#in case ur wondering they took their nail

[czaneavecg]

One Sided Talk

Here - Next

[parkerlyn]

I love ur characters and world building sm! I really want to try out doing a fantasy story but I'm not sure where to start. Do you have any tips?

Hi! Oh, where to begin haha. I think first of all I'll caveat that I'm no expert and that there's no one-strategy-fits-all. But I can at least give what my experience was at the high-level when starting The Nameless!

I would say the first thing for me is thinking about broad strokes - i.e. theme and tone for the story. Are you writing epic high fantasy? Low fantasy? Urban fantasy? Alternate history? Are there huge, overarching themes you want to write about? Is it a serious, more "mature" adventure or something more whimsical and relaxed (though not to say you can't explore serious themes in those sorts of stories too!) What is the scale of conflict you want to write? Do you want to write a happy ending? A tragedy?

Predictably because I refuse to shut up, this turned into a novel so more under the cut:

Asking these questions doesn't mean you have to have a ten-point bulleted plan for each one, but at least helps to steer you in the direction you want to go. Keeping high level, then, I can say for The Nameless I went into worldbuilding in regards to culture first. In my case, there's a major theme I've always wanted to explore that's [spoilers]. So I knew I wanted to incorporate that and it's been a crucial driving point for the plot. Then I took a lot of inspiration from D&D and fey-related tropes and stories, which led to the thought of how a culture might shift if fey/sheevra deals were a lot more prevalent and well-known vs more mysterious and less-encountered. The world formed after that thought, and I'd definitely recommend looking at some world-building questionnaires or guides out there, even for topics that probably aren't going to be relevant within your writing.

It will almost definitely never be mentioned in the game, but someone asking me about how farmland and agriculture worked in a significantly barren world led to me thinking more about the food culture of each of the four cities, or travel between them i.e. the Crossings vs the river entrances, and more about weather and trade. A lot of random questions here on tumblr have also helped nail down other details! I've also been lucky enough to have a close friend and my SO absolutely pick apart my story and ask random questions which made me think, so don't be afraid to talk through things out loud even when you don't have everything completely fleshed out.

Again - not that I'm expecting to go into a biosphere breakdown or trade laws of each city ever in game, but it did really help to make it more real in my head. More...lived in. And that helps with finding your characters and their motivations too. Obviously having the major goals or alignment of a character are vital for determining who they are at their core. But being asked "What's [character's] favorite meal or drink" or "What is their favorite time of day? memory? person?" or "What does their room look like" really helps to make them come alive for me, at least. I love the grand adventure of fantasy stories, but I love the small moments and details equally and in my opinion they're just as - if not even more - important.

Along that line I will say take notes!!! Write shorts that are smack dab in the middle of the story!!! Jot them down in your phone!! Write them on the back of a receipt!! Even if it's incoherent later (RIP 🤝 ajfdksalj), anything can help jog a memory or an idea, and like any craft, writing takes practice. Re: apps available, I use Scrivener more now to combine both writing and note-taking and it's the easiest for me to switch/sync between my main devices (aside from my base game folder in Visual Studio Code that's synced to my Dropbox, but I can't open that on mobile). But there are lots of wonderful free alternatives like Obsidian and Evernote (Evernote is free on a limited amount of devices, then goes into paid plans), and many more!

There's also another piece of advice I've heard which is to know how your story is going to end before you get too far. I waffle a little on recommending this one because I think half the fun is the journey to get there, and sometimes the end takes a bit to form. I do know how The Nameless is ultimately going to end, but there are still pieces missing in the middle and definitely more I want to finesse. So I'd say at least start with an idea of what sort of ending you want like in those initial questions - this will really help with your direction and determining a goal for the characters - and iron out the details as you go.

General advice outside of writing tools is to not expect or hold yourself to perfection and to not compare too much to other peers. This is so hard to do sometimes because I do want things to come out well written the first time around. But there's no way I'd write something without reading through it again, and that's what editing is for! That's what everyone has to go through! Take advice and do writing practices based on what you like from other author's writings who inspire you, but at the end of the day, your voice is your own.

Lastly the most important piece of advice I have is - at the core of everything - to write the story you want to tell. Write for you. This is also something I think can be hard to hold onto, especially if you do put a WIP out into the black hole of the internet and update it like an IF game.

Yes, if you're trying to make a living off writing or wanting to build a community around a story, the unfortunate reality of it is that that particular "success" criteria can sometimes depend on who likes it or who promotes it or how/how often you promote it, etc, if you're going purely based on interaction or follower counts or what have you. But honestly, there's always going to be someone who likes and even loves your story, and someone who can't stand your story or just can't get through it. And that's perfectly fine! But I mention this because if you try to write the story you think others want, then it'll impact your writing - whether it's not your voice anymore, or less lively or less enjoyable.

Don't get me wrong, there are absolutely times when I want to yell and groan and rip my hair out over something that doesn't sound right in The Nameless, and there's always going to be lows and highs in any pursuit. But at the end of the day, it's worth it because I know this is the story I want to write and share, and I hope it comes across how much I genuinely love this world and its characters.

Anyway! That's my long ramble for the day (and sorry this took so long to respond to). Again, this should definitely not be word of law, but just my experiences so far with writing. I hope it helps and good luck with your story! I'm sure it'll be amazing. 💖

[ot7always]

In the Dead of Night

banner courtesy of the wonderfully talented @dee-ehn​ !

Word Count: 14.5k

Pairing: Vampire!Jin x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Warnings: dom!Jin, sub!Reader, non-gory blood and knife injury (it’s there, but mostly humorous and/or with very little specific description), biting (like actual biting), vampire compulsion (nothing concerning consent-wise), marking, hair pulling, grinding, size kink, spanking (hand), fingering, praise, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

Rating: 18+

Summary: Courtesy of my roommate, who summarized my story much better than I ever could:

A/N: It’s finally here! I meant for this to be about half the length and be released more than a week or 2 ago, but as you very well know, things don’t exactly go as planned in 2020. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this fic a lot, so please let me know what you think!

--

Saturdays at 3 am were supposed to be peaceful.

Well – at your apartment, that is. You couldn’t account for whoever elected to roam the streets of downtown at night.

But what was definitely not supposed to be happening was being awoken from your deep slumber by furious pounding on your front door.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

When you glanced groggily over at your alarm clock and saw the time, you could have screamed.

Just as you reached for your phone to call the cops on whatever psychopath was probably waking up your entire floor, your screen lit up with a text.

Suckjin [03:19]: plz open ur door

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Sliding out of bed, you hissed as your bare feet hit the cold hardwood.

This had better be fucking worth it.

Plodding out of your bedroom on tiptoes to avoid as much contact with the floor as possible, you made your way to the front door without even bothering to throw on shorts under your oversized t-shirt.

Whatever. You were sure that brat has seen thighs before.

While the knocks had thankfully quieted for a moment, he started up again just as you reached the door.

Before he could even dare bang his fist against the wood again, you were turning the deadbolt and whipping the door open, readying your fiercest glare for the broad man standing before you.

Right as you opened your mouth to start cussing him out, he sprung towards you, hands pushing you further inside your apartment and shutting the door before you could even blink.

When he turned to face you again, hands on his stomach, you prepared for the verbal onslaught you were about to send his way.

“Just what in the absolute hell do you think you’re-”

When your eyes naturally followed the path of his arms down to his stomach, what you saw there shut you up immediately.

Wide-eyed, you took a step back, eyes never leaving the sight before you. He-

As your breath quickened, a (miraculously clean) hand shot out to cover your mouth gently, though you were sure he was ready to clamp down at a moment’s notice.

“Please don’t scream.”

When you were finally able to break your gaze from his abdomen and look at his face instead, pleading eyes locked with yours, his skin paler than usual.

As frightened as you were, you calmed some when you processed the fact that he seemed to be standing before you just fine, albeit the fact that his eyes appeared somewhat unfocused.

You nodded, reaching a shaky hand up to remove his from your face, shivering at how cold and clammy he felt.

When you could speak again, you spent a few moments collecting your thoughts before you opened your mouth again.

“You - you have a knife in you!” you hissed, stepping closer to move his jacket aside to get a better look.

It wasn’t that gruesome a sight, especially not when he was wearing a black t-shirt, but it was no less jarring to have your friend show up in the middle of the night after seemingly being stabbed.

“I know that!” he hissed back, slightly exasperated, muffling a groan when you tried to inch his shirt up to glance at the skin beneath.

“Why the hell do you have a knife in you?” you whispered furiously, pulling him by the arm to settle down onto your couch.

He plopped down with a sigh of relief, his head lolling back momentarily. You hoped he knew that he was paying your cleaning bills if he bled all over your loveseat.

“Now, now, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to remove the knife if you get stabbed?” he said with a pained chuckle, sucking in a breath at the movement it caused.

“Seokjin, now is not the time to joke around,” you said, panic rising in you because you had absolutely no clue what you were supposed to do with a vampire who had a knife embedded in him. “Why did you come here?”

“Well you were the only person I could think of who would answer their door at 3 am-”

“Seokjin!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You didn’t tend to call him that unless you were genuinely annoyed, and he seemed to drop the humorous demeanor immediately.

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital?”

“I can’t go to a hospital.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Okay, correction – I didn’t want to go to a hospital.”

You let out a groan of frustration, fingers rubbing circles into your temples. This man was going to be the death of you. You had no idea why vampires seemed to have such an aversion to hospitals, but you supposed you could never understand. Despite their existence being generally accepted in society so long as they didn’t leave trails of bodies in their wake, there must have been some other reason nobody had ever shared with you.

“Seokjin, I really don’t know what to do here,” you whispered, an ounce of desperation and unease making its way into your tone. His expression softened at the sound, reaching for your hand. As much as he might have been trying to comfort you, the feeling of his hand unusually icy against yours only scared you more.

“I...” he trailed off, trying to figure out a good way to phrase this before settling on being straightforward. “...need blood.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your brow. “You literally have blood at home.”

“No, I, uhh...” he paused. “I need fresh blood to heal something like this.”

You froze. He needed fresh blood? He showed up here because he wanted... your blood?

“Aren’t there places you can go for blood?” you asked, tensing up at the notion of being bitten. It wasn’t that you were so totally opposed – it was no secret that people said it felt good. But you had never been bitten before, and you didn’t know what to think about Seokjin showing up here for that reason.

“I came here because I trust you the most,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Please. I promise I would never do this unless I had to. But please – you can say no, but tell me right now, because this hurts so much.”

Seeing his pained expression and feeling the way his fingers gripped yours like a lifeline, there was absolutely no way you were letting him back outside to roam the streets. You had no idea how this really happened to him, but despite their general acceptance, vampire hunters still existed. Like hell you were going to let easy bait walk right into their hands.

Especially not Seokjin.

“I – okay, I just – I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Biting was a pretty private, intimate thing. Most vampires drank bagged blood, with live donors only in carefully-controlled emergency clinics or heavily guarded clubs.

There was, of course, the cases of vampire-human relationships or hookups, but most people didn’t tend to share the ultra-specific details of their sex life.

Not that you had never attempted research on your own, but anecdotes you found on the internet varied so wildly that you had to wonder whether they were even telling the truth.

“I promise I can control myself. I would never put you in danger.”

“No, I know, it’s not that,” you mumbled. “Just... will it hurt?”

“Oh. No, it shouldn’t.”

“It shouldn’t? I don’t know how reassuring that is,” you chuckled nervously. You weren’t about to back out now, but you had at least hoped that he would have a straight answer for you.

He took a shaky breath, and a pang of guilt went through you for asking so many questions.

“The more attracted a vampire and donor are to each other, emotionally and physically, the better it’ll feel for you.”

“And you?”

He smirked, and curse him for making it look good despite his unfortunate... situation. “Me? I’m a vampire, it always feels good.”

Right. You might have facepalmed at the stupid question that left your own lips, but his voice momentarily distracted you from doing so.

“Anyway, I know my face isn’t a problem, so unless you secretly hate me or something, you’ll be okay,” he grinned.

“I’m so glad you can joke around right now,” you snorted derisively. “If I secretly hated you, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

“Fair.”

“Anyway, I’ll do it, just,” you winced. “Don’t call me a donor. It feels weird.”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling you closer to him. “Thank you for this. Really, I owe you.”

You sighed. “I can’t just let you bleed out somewhere in the world, can I?” You allowed him to pull you close enough that you were hovering over him with your legs touching his, and you stood awkwardly in silence. “Uhh, what should I do?”

He patted his lap in invitation and your face warmed at the notion, but you straddled his legs before your brain had time to dwell on it.

He raised a hand to nudge the collar of your shirt away from your neck, his icy fingers and the sensation of his nails on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. When his thumb rubbed gently against the warmth of your neck, you had to suppress a gasp at the surprisingly intimate touch.

When you focused your gaze on his face, his eyes were not fixed on your own, but rather on the movements of his own hand, his pupils obscenely dilated. You’d never seen him look so lustful, so hungry.

Heat undeniably flared in your core (much without your consent), and it was wishful thinking to hope that Seokjin didn’t pick up on your quickening breath or rapid heartbeat.

“I...” he whispered, trailing off before he’d even begun.

“Hm?” you answered, already feeling dazed before his fangs had even touched you.

“I need you to pull the knife out.”

Well, that certainly broke you free of your trance.

“What!? Me? You – I – me?” you stuttered in a very flattering display of eloquence.

“I’m... not sure I have the strength right now,” he admitted ruefully, and you could tell that if it were really up to him, he would be doing it himself.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

“Fine,” you murmured, raising both hands to grip firmly at the handle of the blade. “Just – don’t bite me until I put this knife down, okay? We don’t need any more... accidents.”

He failed to hold back a laugh at that, and you managed to crack a grin in response. “Okay, okay.”

To think he had you so utterly flustered and at his whim only moments ago.

“On the count of three,” you breathed, bracing yourself for something you certainly never expected anyone to ask of you. “One... two... three.”

When you reached three, you flinched your eyes shut, pulling as hard as you could in one quick burst, desperate to have this all over before it started.

The sensation was something odd and unspeakable, and you turned to toss the knife on the table behind you before you could register the uncomfortable warmth on your hands.

But the exact moment the sound of metal clattering on glass reached your ears, your head was being wrenched back by large hands, plump lips and hot breath coming into contact with your neck before you realized he’d moved.

You could barely suck in a gasp before a hand moved to grip tightly at your waist, and fangs sunk into your skin.

White-hot pain lanced through your body like electricity, and for a moment you were thinking you were done for. Seokjin was wrong, maybe he lied, and you definitely lacked the strength to push off a dying vampire determined to drink.

But just as you opened your mouth, whether to scream or cry or whatever else, you were immediately silenced, a breathy groan soon pulled from your throat.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure flowing through your limbs had you weak, your body falling limp into sensation immediately.

Clearly prepared for this outcome, Seokjin only pulled you closer to him, the hand on your waist supporting your body, a hand fisted near your scalp keeping your head back. The casual display of strength pulled a whimper from you, your body feeling hot all over.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you had to wonder when you had opened them at all, because you couldn’t recall processing a single thing visually since his fangs touched you.

You thought that would be as good as it gets, but the pleasure only kept building and building. It rendered you almost completely immobile, your world reduced to Seokjin at your neck, the broad planes of his body below yours, and the myriad of bliss flooding your veins. Heat was throbbing in your cunt, your nipples hard and almost pained as they rubbed against the roughness of your t-shirt.

You raised your hands that were sitting idle at your sides to fist into Seokjin’s shirt, giving no thought to the fact that he was gravely injured in that spot only minutes ago, fingers feeling almost numb and not registering the wetness that was there either.

“Ah - Jin,” you cried loudly as the bliss only built, tossing your head back to bare more of your neck.

He growled ferally into your skin, the sound going straight to your core. He pulled you closer still, enough that your breasts pressed harshly into his chest, your hips slotted together.

Sighing happily at the pressure right where you needed it most, you ground desperately against whatever you could feel against you. When you felt the undeniable hardness of Seokjin’s cock against your cunt and its delicious friction against your soaked-through panties, you moaned obscenely.

You felt rather than heard his gasp in response, his grip around you tightening even further, enough that you felt out of breath.

You whimpered at the restriction, his strength keeping you from grinding against him no matter how hard you tried.

You cursed him internally, but there was no way you were going to formulate words at this point, your mind completely lost to euphoric delirium.

It felt as though you were floating, head thrown back as sparks flew up your spine relentlessly.

Despite the lack of proper friction against your cunt, you could feel pressure building in your abdomen. You were close, so close, so undeniably close-

Fangs retracted from your neck, and the sudden loss was like ice water being thrown over your head. You shivered.

The tight grip on you loosened, Seokjin leaning into the back of the couch and groaning.

When you opened your eyes you almost fell over at the way the world spun, dizziness and blurry vision almost distracting you from the orgasm that seemed only moments away.

Almost.

Blinking furiously until you managed to fix your gaze onto Seokjin’s face, you sucked in a harsh breath at the sight before you.

Irises swimming with crimson, pupils blown out, chest heaving, dark hair mussed, lips painted red, fangs still visible past his parted lips – he looked the very picture of sin.

Fuck.

Though if you had a mirror, you would see that you looked just as ruined – eyes wanton and desperate, teeth gnawing into your bottom lip, dark bruises colouring your neck. If temptation were a person, it would be you, sitting in Seokjin’s lap with your soaked panties still pressed against the bulge in his pants.

As you stared at each other, it was as though time froze. Neither of you moved an inch, seemingly content to remain in some kind of intense, sensual staredown for the rest of time.

But you’d never claimed to be a patient person, and when you finally felt confident that your body was yours again, you acted.

If he wanted to push you away, he could have. His reflexes always seemed to almost predict the future, and you were positive that if he didn’t want this, he would have stopped you. He was never one to avoid voicing his discontent, even if it was masked as a self-deprecating joke. Some part of you deep down expected him to end this before it had even begun.

He didn’t.

Your lips met his in a depraved frenzy, too far gone to make any attempt at starting slow. It was rough, and it was messy, and it was desperate, and you loved it. His fangs scraped at your bottom lip and you gasped, fisting your hands into his hair as your body remembered how it felt the last time those fangs breached your skin. But as you ground your clit into the sizeable bulge in his pants again, he froze.

Just as you were about to pull away to see what caught his attention, he pushed you away first, hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasped, and it very much looked like it took all of his willpower to break away.

“What’s wrong?” you asked weakly, your head still spinning, body absolutely overcome by lust. In fact, he was looking a bit blurry again with how fast he moved you, and it took several moments of rapid blinking before you met his very concerned gaze. Nothing ever escaped him, and you were sure that your semi-weak state was very obvious to him right now.

Not that it affected how much you wanted his touch, his cock.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your brow furrowed. “I do know what I’m doing,” you said firmly – or at least, you tried, but it took far too much effort to wrap your tongue around the syllables, almost as if you were drunk.

“Y/N-”

“Why don’t you believe me?” you whined, this time sounding a bit more coherent. You tried to push toward him, but his hold was too strong. “You want it too, look at your face.”

He sighed, looking to the ceiling as though it held some answer on how to make this easier. “It’s not about whether I want it or not. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Jinnie,” you whimpered needily, reaching your hands toward the waistband of his pants. If he didn’t touch you soon, you swore that you would scream. “Please. I want it. I want you. I promise-”

He moved to snatch your hands before you could touch him, and your mouth clamped shut at the grip. His expression was almost pained for a moment before his eyes glazed over with a look that would have had you on your knees immediately.

His hand shot up to grip your chin firmly, ensuring that you couldn’t look away. Though, you didn’t think you could look away if you tried, drawn to the unspeakable darkness you found there, crimson still invading the rich brown.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and sleep for me?”

“Wh-what?” you choked out, but it was as though you’d lost control of your body, feeling as though you’d been awake for days without sleep. Your eyelids fluttered shut, but you forced them back open, groaning weakly when your vision fell upon Seokjin, his expression still dark and hungry.

You were about to open your mouth again, but something about his eyes was so captivating. Something about the red pulled you in, left you unable to think. Were his eyes always this beautiful? You wracked your brain, but came up blank. You wanted to open your mouth and ask him, but you couldn’t move a muscle. Even still, your face drew closer to his as though pulled in by a magnet.

His eyes roved over your face before meeting your gaze once more, and you missed the flash of sympathy that was present for only a moment. You were relieved when he looked at you again, fingers twitching with the urge to cup his face. You were content to look at him for the rest of time – if there was anything Seokjin had, it was time, right?

Attention focused on each other, he parted his lips, and you could have sworn your ears buzzed, desperate to hold on to every word.

“Sleep.”

Your vision went black.

--

You awoke to a hand scratching gently at your scalp, a great contrast to the relentless hammering of your head. You groaned, shoving your face further into your pillow, blocking out the light that was already worsening the ache of your skull, even with your eyes closed.

You were so comfy, so relaxed at the touch that you almost drifted right back to sleep.

Wait.

You lived alone.

Sitting up all in a rush, you gasped as the world spun. It only got worse when you forced your eyes open, a pained whine leaving your lips as even the limited light in the room only introduced more pain behind your eyes.

“Woah! It’s just me, it’s just me.” Seokjin’s voice came out in a rush, sturdy arms lowering you back to your pillow as he pulled the sheets up to shadow your face.

Right. Seokjin.

Your heartbeat calmed, recalling his arrival late last night. Though, what came next was all a blur you couldn’t bother trying to remember right now.

You heard him step away quickly, the sound of your curtains drawing completely closed having you let out a sigh of relief. His footsteps neared you again, his cool touch returning to stroke gently at your face, before moving to massage at the base of your skull.

His touch was so delicate it almost baffled you. You didn’t think he’d touch anyone like this, his displays of affection more inclined to loud compliments and playful roughhousing.

But you couldn’t deny that it felt incredible, your neck arching almost imperceptively as you leaned into his touch. The chill of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

“Are you cold?”

Blood rushed to your face at the observation, though you only gave a noncommittal noise in return. He didn’t need to know what was going on in your mind.

“My head hurts,” you mumbled quietly, a pout overtaking your lips. Seokjin had to force himself not to laugh at how cute you looked then.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replied softly, lulling you back into a half-asleep state with the gentle motions of his hand on you.

You couldn’t tell how long it was before you opened your eyes again – it could have been 2 minutes or it could have been two hours. You couldn’t even tell whether you’d drifted off or not.

It was fortunately much darker than the first time you opened your eyes, much to the relief of your headache that had faded some, but was still thudding away.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to be greeted by the golden skin of Seokjin’s chest, the shadows of the room only making it look more unreal.

You blearily blinked several times before determining that yes, that was Seokjin half-naked and perched on a kitchen chair. You tried to get words out and failed, clearing your throat before trying again.

“Where are your clothes?”

He grinned. “A bit ruined, if you recall.”

Right.

At least his pants were still on. That was best for your sanity.

“Why does my head hurt so much?” you asked, luckily able to keep your eyes open now to look at him without the pain multiplying tenfold.

He winced, his chest aching at the pained expression on your face. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

“What do you mean? Because you bit me?”

“No, not that.” He raised his free hand to scratch awkwardly at his ear.

“Huh? Why then?” All of this was so confusing. Maybe you should have done more research on vampires in your life, though you never expected to be in this sort of situation.

“I, uhh... compelled you.” He gnawed nervously at his lip, but rather than the lashing out he might have expected, you only looked at him in confusion.

“You what? Why?”

“What do you remember from last night?” he posed to you instead.

As much as you tried to recall, you couldn’t focus on anything with the state your head was in. You remembered him arriving at your house, a bit of stupid banter, getting on the couch, sitting in his lap. Then, he bit you.

Then what?

You honestly didn’t know, and you couldn’t help the fear that crept its way through you at that realization.

“You bit me...” you trailed off, looking away from his face and instead staring into the sheets near where your hands laid.

He hummed in affirmation, clearly urging you to continue.

“And then, I don’t really know,” you whispered, an edge of panic in your voice.

He sighed. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, it’ll come back.”

“Did something bad happen?” You tried to wrack your brain for possible scenarios where he would have had to compel you to do something, and you came up blank every time. What could you have done? Attacked him? Or did he go crazy at the taste of your blood and attack you? No, that didn’t make any sense – you were lying in bed feeling perfectly normal besides the headache.

What the hell happened?

“Nothing bad happened. I just... made you sleep before we did something stupid.”

It felt like the more he told you, the less you knew. Before you did something stupid? As in, did something stupid together?

There was something about the way he was choosing his words that led you to only one conclusion – in fact, he sounded an awful lot like Taehyung bemoaning his drunken hookups.

There was no way you almost fucked... right?

You’d have to know, right? There was no way you would have gone along with that... right?

It wasn’t as though you’d never had a spur of the moment one-night stand, but with Seokjin? There was absolutely no way you would’ve let that happen. A person had to protect their heart, after all.

“Stop overthinking right now, you’ll just make the pain worse.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though you didn’t know why you even tried lying. It was a bit hard to trick someone who was both a vampire and your friend.

“I can literally hear you freaking out. Please just try to rest, you’ll remember when the headache goes away.”

You sighed, trying to ease the tension in your body you didn’t even realize you had. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said confidently, his hand trailing away to rub firm circles into your shoulder instead.

“Mm.” You might have said something, but proper words evaded you at his touch. You tried focusing on him rather than the thrum of your skull, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

The expression on Seokjin’s face was one you hadn’t seen before. His eyes looked into yours with a softness that felt unfamiliar, a soft smile overtaking his lips when he saw how exhausted you looked.

“Sleep if you’re tired, princess,” he murmured, pulling the sheets up higher to cover you more. “Do you want another blanket?”

You could feel your heart speed up in your chest at the pet name and his tenderness, and you cursed the fact that there was no way to hide anything from him. At least he was polite enough not to tease you like he did your other friends.

You were so momentarily flustered that you almost forgot to respond, only nodding in response as you curled further into yourself. If you were any braver, maybe you would have asked him to join you instead.

It was only moments before he was tossing the throw from your living room over you, and it almost startled you. Sometimes you forgot how eerily fast he could move, considering he usually slowed himself to your pace whenever you were together.

You let out a contented sigh as you snuggled into the additional warmth, already feeling only half-conscious. You had just enough energy to let out a mumbled ‘thanks’ before you were drifting off again.

--

When you awoke this time, it felt as though you were an entirely new person. For starters, your head felt blissfully quiet. You were sure you would have cried if you woke up to just as much pain. There was only so much you could take in one 24-hour period. Seokjin had really done a number on your weekend, hadn’t he?

Speaking of Seokjin, he was nowhere to be seen in your bedroom. Though you were sure he was still somewhere. It wasn’t quite his style to disappear without saying goodbye, and you were even more doubtful that he would just leave after biting you.

Biting you.

At the thought, images flooded your mind faster than you could process them.

His fangs at your neck.

The relentless pleasure that invaded every fibre of your being.

Your lips on his.

Your brazen grinding against him.

And, your refusal to stop despite his words.

Holy fuck.

Was it possible to go back to when you didn’t remember and you could ignorantly lay in bed with Seokjin stroking your head?

You sat up only to bury your head in your hands, letting out a loud, embarrassed, frustrated groan while you were at it. If Seokjin didn’t know you were awake before, he surely did now. But merciful as ever, he allowed you to wallow in your mortification alone.

Was there anything worse than trying to mindlessly and basically drunkenly make your way into your friend’s pants and get denied? Your friend who you maybe found a little bit (extremely) attractive in every way, shape, and form?

Well, of course there were worse things, but to you in this moment, it certainly felt like a new low.

It took you a moment to find your footing once you’d hopped out of bed, but luckily you felt good as new otherwise. If you stayed in here alone too much longer you would certainly lose the minimal nerve you had and never leave.

In your rush to make use of your bravery, you remembered at the last moment that you were still in just your panties and shirt with no bra.

When you made it to your dresser, you paused at your reflection.

It was almost... startling how normal you looked. Though, what should you have looked like?

Baring your neck and squinting at the image in front of you, you had to scratch at your neck yourself to verify whether you were imagining it.

Aside from bruises that already seemed to be fading, there were no marks on your neck. Did it really heal that fast?

Maybe you should have been a bit embarrassed that you were so clueless on the whole subject. But in your defense, information on the internet didn’t seem to be very reliable, and vampires, for some reason, seemed to love their air of mystery. Based on the few you knew well, you were pretty sure they got a fair amount of amusement out of the misconceptions flying around.

Finally fully dressed for the first time since Seokjin showed up unannounced, you flung your door open with all the confidence you could muster.

Which is to say, you cracked your door open just enough for you to stick your head out. Much to your dismay, your eyes met Seokjin’s on the couch almost immediately, your face ducked toward the floor as you slinked your way over to the living room.

You stopped on the opposite side of the table, the sight of the stained knife there definitely not helping in your hope to distract yourself from what a fool you’d made of yourself the night before.

Out of curiosity, your gaze shot up to examine his abdomen.

You didn’t know why the perfectly smooth and unblemished muscle you found there was of any surprise to you after the night you’ve had, but it was. There wasn’t a single trace of any injury or blood on him – in fact, he looked much cleaner than when he got here. Did he use your shower?

A throat clearing had your eyes instinctively locking with his, an amused smile playing over his features that shot embarrassment through your veins. Of course the one time your ogling was purely scientific, he had to catch you and make fun of you.

You couldn’t stop your sight from drifting back down, the concept of there being absolutely no trace of anything happening to him boggling your mind.

“You really...” you trailed off, eyes darting back and forth across his bare skin one last time just to be sure. “You really healed, just like that?”

He only nodded, tapping the unbroken skin for emphasis. “You can heal me, I can heal you. Convenient, isn’t it?”

You nodded back in response, silence taking over the room quickly. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do to fill it. You’ve never experienced an awkward silence with Seokjin before, his charming nature always keeping everyone around him comfortable. This sort of energy in the room with him... it was unsettling.

“Y/N,” Seokjin called out once the silence went on a moment too long for his liking. “Can you come sit with me?”

He scooted over to make plenty of room for you, but you felt almost frozen in place. Did he really want your company after you’d pretty much jumped him? Was he sitting you down so he could let you down easy, tell you that this has been real, but he refused to associate with someone with so little self-control?

You must have stood there staring for longer than you thought, because an unreadable expression crossed his face before he spoke up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

Huh?

“No!” you blurted out, your volume clearly surprising him. “Well, a little?”

“Oh.” If you weren’t paying such close attention to him, you would have missed the hurt that flashed in his eyes. But you didn’t.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” you said hurriedly. You wanted to smack yourself for being such a blatant mess. “I’m just... scared,” you finished weakly.

His gaze softened immediately, and he had to restrain himself from hopping over the table between you to pull you into his arms. You looked like you were trying to shrink into yourself, your shoulders pulled towards your chest, hands wringing nervously in front of you.

“Did you think I would be upset?” he asked softly. He leaned forward, earnest expression on his face.

That was an understatement. You could live with “drunkenly” coming onto someone, but you didn’t know what you would do if it ended up costing you your friendship. Maybe you were being overly dramatic, but you never claimed to be the most rational person.

You nodded slowly, your vision dropping to stare at the floor, hands wrapped around your middle, squeezing as you struggled to maintain composure. You didn’t know why your heart was beating a mile a minute, your palms uncomfortably sweaty. You usually didn’t feel this level of fear when confronting a mistake that, to a normal person, shouldn’t be such an obscenely big deal as you were making it. But Seokjin was certainly not a normal person to you, and any situation that lowered his opinion of you was one you would do anything to avoid.

“Hey.” The sudden gentle hand on your chin made you squeak, and you would have stumbled in your rush to step backward if not for the steadying hand on your shoulder.

You always seemed to forget that he could move so quickly and silently. Your heart might stop at this rate if he wasn’t careful.

His thumb stroked at your jaw as if he hadn’t just seen you nearly fall flat on your ass, softly tapping under your chin until you met his gaze.

“I promise I’m the furthest thing from mad right now. Nothing is even your fault, okay?”

“But-”

“No buts. Let’s talk, but I’m not upset. Okay?” he urged, eyes not leaving yours until you nodded. The smile he gave in return made you feel warm, the tenderness in his gaze doing things to your heart, the hint of a smile ghosting your lips.

The hand on your shoulder nudged you toward him, the other opening wide to welcome you into a hug.

You went easily, your arms wrapping around his bare waist as you tucked your face into his chest. The relief you felt at his reassurance was immense, and you melted into his touch. It was almost strange how well you fit together.

“Let’s sit,” he said, kind yet firm. He led you over to the couch, settling himself down into the spot where he seemed to have spent much of the past day in.

You didn’t know what possessed you to straddle his lap in the way you did last night. Maybe it was the way he looked at you warmly without judgment, or the way your body craved his nearness after getting a taste of his touch. But whatever it was, he didn’t push you away – rather, he reached for your hands, interlacing his fingers with your own.

This position wasn’t the most “innocent” to begin with, but with the memories of last night rushing through your head, of his teeth at your neck and the pleasure you felt, your breath sped up.

With the expression on Seokjin’s face, you were sure he must have been thinking the same thing, hungry eyes flickering from your lips back up to your waiting gaze. Unlike you, however, he didn’t seem at all embarrassed.

“Are you confused?” he asked suddenly.

Caught off guard by the sudden question, your brows furrowed. Though you didn’t know just exactly what he was referring to, what will all that happened, but your answer was still the same regardless.

You nodded hesitantly, but he didn’t speak, your puzzled expression telling him that you were still working things out in your head. The silence stretched on until you finally spoke up again.

“You didn’t tell me it would be like... that.” Euphoric. Dreamlike. Intense. No matter what word you used, it still didn’t feel enough to encompass what you experienced the night before. You’d never experienced white-hot physical and even emotional pleasure like that, not in all your years of life.

You dropped your gaze down to your joined hands, watching the way he fiddled with your fingers as he pondered his next words. It felt unusual to have a conversation with him in this way – you both tended to be people who said what they thought without thinking on it too much, with friends at least. But it was reassuring to see him so serious, to see that he really did care.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was a possibility,” he finally said. He sounded confident in his words, but you found it odd that he was fidgeting so much. He hadn’t stopped moving his hands since taking hold of yours, and even his legs were starting to shift beneath yours. Why did he seem so nervous?

“What does that mean?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he responded instead, leaving you staring at him, baffled.

“Huh?” you replied, immediately defensive.

You didn’t have the smallest idea of what that question meant, but he fixed his gaze on you inquisitively. Did he think you had some big secret or something? Sure, he didn’t know everything about your life, but there was nothing so exceptional about you that not mentioning it would be some sort of betrayal.

“Uhh, never mind.”

“What do you mean, never mind? You can’t just ask me something like then and then say that,” you huffed, lips forming a thin line.

“Sorry I just thought – do you remember what I told you when you asked if it would hurt?”

You swore he was going to give you whiplash with his questions, but at least this one was easy to answer.

“Sure, you said the closer two people are the better it feels. Something like that, right?”

“Right, so, uhh, it wouldn’t normally feel that intense, you know?”

The fact that he definitely seemed to know exactly what was going on and kept beating around the bush was more than a little bit frustrating. Considering he was normally as straightforward as a person could get, though, you opted to simple stare expectantly at him. But if he didn’t cut to the point in approximately 20 seconds, your annoyance would just about outweigh your concern.

“It shouldn’t feel that way unless you liked me back,” he finally said, all in one breath.

You could only blink blankly as you processed his words, but when it clicked, you went from mildly annoyed to incredibly flustered all in the same second.

“HUH?! Wait, back?” You could almost feel your headache coming back with how many directions this conversation has taken in less than 15 minutes. Your hands were starting to feel disgustingly clammy in his, but neither of you moved to separate them.

“I know this is so sudden, and I didn’t expect to be outed like this either and it doesn’t have to mean anything, like I know I like you a lot, like a lot a lot, but I don’t really know how much you feel about me or if it’s even that significant or just a passing attraction because either is possible and I’m really sorry if this made everything awkward-”

His ridiculously fast words were cut off by your newly-free hand clamping down over his mouth, plump lips tickling your skin as he stared at you, wide-eyed. You were sure if you tried this any other time he would (playfully) smack you, but he only stared.

“Really?” you whispered. To be completely honest, you never realistically considered a relationship, or even just a hook-up with Seokjin. You found him wholly and insanely attractive, but didn’t everyone? And it wasn’t that he was a vampire and you were a human – it was laughable to believe that you’d think that long-term anyway.

No, you just never saw him being that into you. He was almost ethereally beautiful, got along well with everyone, and had one of the most charming personalities you’d ever seen. His physique wasn’t even something that needed to be mentioned. With all that considered, all you ever cared to do was admire him from afar, content to have him as a close friend. It wasn’t as though he’d ever sent you hints that he wanted otherwise, either.

So to hear that your stupid little harmless crush could actually amount to anything?

You thought things couldn’t get any more unexpected.

When he nodded his confirmation, you couldn’t keep the grin from overtaking your face.

The giddiness clear on your face and the adorable sparkle in your eye sent unquantifiable relief through him, and the second you removed your hand, he opened his mouth to speak.

But somehow you were quicker than him, your lips meeting his before a single syllable could be uttered.

Unlike last night, you didn’t kiss him like you wanted to devour him, or like your body would light on fire if you couldn’t get as close as possible. This was calmer, slower, but it didn’t take long for that to change.

His fangs weren’t out this time, but that didn’t change the fact that you gasped as soon as his teeth dug into your bottom lip. Sparks shot up your spine at the sensation, your mind unable to stop thinking about what you felt the last time you were in this same position. How good it felt to be helpless to the pleasure battering down on you, held in place by strong hands and strong arms.

He’d probably ruined teeth for you for the rest of your life.

You let him do whatever he wanted, and he groaned into your mouth when you tangled your hands in his hair. Hands gripped your ass tightly and squeezed, pulling you in closer to him.

His hands didn’t even wander much further than that, but heat flared in your core regardless. When he raised his hips to brush the bulge in his pants against your aching centre, you could only moan and grind down onto him.

The pressure against your clit through the thin material of your shorts cut off every possible train of thought, and you were pretty sure that after all this, these panties would never recover.

You felt goosebumps raise on your flesh when a hand rose, nails scraping against your scalp. You arched your neck back ever-so-slightly, and Seokjin didn’t miss a beat in detaching from your lips to mouth at the skin above your collarbone instead.

He wasn’t gentle in the way he sucked bruises into your skin, a firm hand holding your head in place while the other held your thigh, his confined length rubbing languidly into your core. You whined and tightened your grip in his hair at the brush of teeth against skin, but much to your displeasure, he pulled away from you before clothes even started coming off.

“Wait.”

“Whyyyy?” you whined petulantly. Was he really going to do this to you again? You knew he was definitely in the right to stop things last night, but there was only so much you could take.

He bit back a smirk at your neediness, thumbing gently at your protruding bottom lip as he resisted the urge to tease you for your cuteness. This soft and pouty side of you was new to him, and he swore something fluttered in his chest.

“You should eat something, princess.”

“Huh?” you blinked, confused. You were about to protest when he spoke up again.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh... dinner last night? Maybe 7? 8?”

He leaned in toward you, but rather than kiss you again, he reached for the table behind you. You craned your neck to see what he was doing, and frowned when he grabbed for his phone. Your bewilderment at what he was doing didn’t last long, however, his phone screen displaying the time for you in large, white font.

5:32 pm.

“Holy shit, I slept for that long?” You stared at him wide-eyed. No wonder he took a shower and everything. You were surprised he was sat there waiting for you for all those hours without complaint.

He looked a bit sheepish, tossing his phone to the side and leaning back into the couch, tugging you with him comfortably. At this point the fire you felt had been dimmed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still a bit irritated at being denied twice in a row.

“Ah, that would be my fault... the compulsion really gave you hell,�� he winced, stroking gently at your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“It’s fine, I feel okay. Wasn’t that my fault anyway?” Your face felt hot thinking back to your behaviour and the lack of restraint you showed, hand rubbing nervously at the back of your neck.

“Of course not,” he assured quickly. “It’s not exactly something easy to resist. But if you regret it, I’m really sor-”

“I don’t regret it!” you cut him off, immediately wanting to pinch yourself for being so loud. And hasty. And embarrassing. And horny. “I’m... I’m happy right now.” Your volume seemed to die as confidence left you, but Seokjin only beamed.

“I’m happy too,” he said simply, tone laced with sincerity. “But you need to eat, I can practically hear your intestines screaming from here.”

“What?!” Strange tension successfully killed, your hands covered your abdomen instinctively as though you could shield yourself from his vampire ears. “Can you actually?”

He let you stare at him in alarm for only a few seconds before he couldn’t hold his giggles back anymore.

“Not really, but you should have seen your face. Why are you so worried about it?”

You huffed, shoulders deflating at his teasing. “I don’t know! That has to be a breach of privacy or something. Who gave you the right to listen to my intestines?”

“I can already hear your heart just fine, would it really matter so much?”

The smile dropped from his lips within a second, and the sudden intensity in his gaze had you frozen. The energy in the room shifted in an instant, and you were at a complete loss for words.

You thought he was going in for a kiss when he leaned closer, but instead his nose went to nuzzle at your neck, trailing up into your hairline. The warm air he exhaled into your ear made you shiver, pressing yourself ever so closer to his bare chest. You didn’t know how he managed to work you up within seconds, but you felt so hot despite his cool touch, baring your neck for him.

“I can hear the way your heart speeds up when I get close...” he whispered, mouthing lazily at your soft skin before sucking harshly. Unsure of what to do with yourself, your nails dug into his biceps, breath unsteady.

“I can hear the way the blood rushes through your veins, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” A hand rose to palm at your breast, bare beneath the worn cotton of your shirt. You arched your back as he harshly rolled a hard nipple between his fingers.

“I can hear the way you lose your breath, your tiny little gasps...” You couldn’t hide the way you twitched when sharp fangs scraped against your skin, a whimper nearly making its way from your throat. “Just like that.”

“And just so you know...” His voice was like honey, warm and smooth and sweet, and you hung onto his every word. “I can hear the way your stomach is growling right now too.”

The noise you let out that moment was inhumane, somewhere between a squeak and a scream of disbelief.

He broke away from you with a blaring laugh, shoulders bouncing beneath your grip.

You moved to slap at his chest, but your hand was caught easily, and his laughter only continued. God, you were going to kill this man. Again.

Your face felt obscenely hot, and you could feel a pout overtaking your lips at the sight of him still giggling away in front of you.

“Jinnie,” you whined, choosing to display your discontent by breaking free of his grip and hopping up out of his lap.

Which was definitely not the correct choice, because you swore you could feel the rush of blood through your ears before a strong sense of vertigo washed over you, groan escaping your lips. You were sure you would have fallen face first into the floor if not for Seokjin’s steadying.

“Woah, do you feel okay? This is why I told you to eat,” he sighed, maneuvering you to lay down comfortably on the couch, sticking pillows under your head. “Just stay here and I’ll make food, okay?”

“No, wait, I can make it-”

As you attempted to push back up off the couch, he only gently pushed down with a quiet ‘tsk’ and shake of his head. As you opened your mouth to further protest, he leaned in close, the softness of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Be a good girl and let me take care of you, hm?”

Your breath hitched at his sudden words, only able to stare wide-eyed when he pulled away from you enough to take in your face. The look in his eyes could only be described as devious – amused yet hardened, and you didn’t know if you were imagining the crimson bleeding into the brown of his irises.

“There goes that heartbeat again,” he murmured as though sharing a secret, the tender motion of his hand on your cheek in stark contrast to the want etched into his expression. “You’re going to be so much fun to ruin.”

--

For someone who didn’t really need to eat food to survive (though you’d been told time and time again that eating was fun), Seokjin made one hell of a good cook. Granted, egg fried rice wasn’t the most difficult nor time-consuming dish to make, but that didn’t make it any less tasty. In fact, you were grateful for such a simple and light dish, because you learned quite quickly that after an entire day without food, rushing to eat only brought nausea and discomfort.

Leaning against the armrest of the couch, the inside of your bowl was all you could see with how close you were holding it to your face. In your defence, though, you were greatly disinterested in the possibility of needing to clean a stain from your cushions.

As you took your time eating, Seokjin opted to tidy up a bit, dishes clanging in the kitchen before you heard him rearranging his shoes at the front door.

Thankfully, his efforts included removing the knife from your table and putting it god-knows-where, but you were just glad it was out of your line of sight. Maybe he thought that it was better for your appetite to remove the thing you’d literally pulled out of him.

You tried not to let your mind linger on just how... strange that felt.

He somehow managed to clean up before you’d even finished eating, the couch dipping beside you as he settled into his spot. Vampire speed truly was startling.

If you didn’t have your entire field of vision blocked, you might have noticed Seokjin’s fond look as you ate your meal at what could only be described as a forced snail’s pace. He had to suppress a chuckle at how antsy you seemed to be, clearly wanting to just shovel food into your mouth, but knowing you would only suffer for it. How did one person manage to be so cute and yet so seductive?

When you were done, you set the bowl down on the table with a satisfied sigh, jumping in surprise when a glass of water was placed into your newly-emptied hands almost immediately.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly, face feeling hot at his attentiveness. You didn’t know how to react at having a man like Kim Seokjin doting on you. It was almost – no, it was – unbelievable, and your poor heart didn’t know how to act. It was one thing to have him kiss you like he was going to devour you, and another to be this sweet and this caring and this soft.

Setting the empty glass next to your empty bowl, you leaned back, unsure of what to do with yourself now that you were entirely unoccupied. Seokjin’s presence beside you made you increasingly aware of the awkward shifting of your hands and your uneasy breathing. He wasn’t that close to you and yet you could smell him – you didn’t know how he managed to make your floral scented shampoo smell sexy.

“Why are you so nervous?” he said lowly, nudging you into his side and tossing an arm around your shoulders. It was a simple move, and yet all you could think was how big he was, how easily he completely enveloped you in his hold.

“I-I’m not nervous,” you stuttered, and you could feel the blood rush to your face. You wondered if he could hear that, too.

A hand lifted your face in his direction, and you were met with an expression that very clearly read ‘are you really going to try lying to a vampire?’

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you amended, biting into your lower lip. His gaze followed the motion, eyes clouding over.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his thumb raising to release your lip from your teeth, the movement intimate enough to set your stomach aflutter.

“Are we asking that now?” you responded smartly, grinning when Seokjin only huffed a laugh.

“Let me be clearer then,” he said lowly, the abrupt commanding tone having you sit up straighter. “Can I kiss you, strip you, take you to bed, taste that sweet pussy on my tongue, and then fuck you?”

Heat flared in you at the words, your fingernails scratching against his chest before remembering he wasn’t wearing a shirt for you to yank him closer. You settled for making a beeline for his mouth, but a quick movement to grip your hair at the scalp kept you from getting close enough.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, holding you still as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, humming in content when he brushed right against the spot he bit you yesterday. “Tell me yes or no, princess.”

You nodded with what freedom you had left – not much, with how tight his hold on you was, tiny pricks of pain sending sparks up and down your spine. His other hand pulled you closer to him, your hips halfway straddling him as he mouthed at your neck, acting as though he hadn’t noticed your response. It was clear that he was waiting for you to say something.

“Yes,” you said quietly, nearly forgetting what the question was from the way he was sucking softly at your neck. At the scrape of fangs against your skin, you only pushed back against the hand in your hair, exposing more of your neck with a soft sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” he taunted, pulling you fully on top of him, his hard cock right against your core, and you wished that clothing wasn’t separating you.

He pressed those fangs against the soft skin below your ear, hard enough that the pain had you wincing, but not enough to break skin.

He was teasing you, and you were putty in his hands.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” he breathed, tonguing lazily over the stinging marks he left behind. You could only whimper and squirm in his hold, hands tangling in his silken hair. You didn’t know whether you wanted to pull him away or push him closer.

“To have you moaning in rapture right in my lap, so desperate for my cock, the taste of you on my lips...” His voice was so low you could barely hear it, barely process it, but the absolutely lust in his voice only spurred new waves of arousal in you. “Hearing you beg like that, fuck-”

He cut himself off with a sinful moan as he shifted his hips to rub himself right against your cunt, and you shuddered in response.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone so bad,” he sighed, breathing unsteady as he used his grip on you to rock you in time to his movements. “I’ve never had such a test of self-control. Maybe I should punish you.”

This voice was teasing, but your reaction was real, and there was no way to hide the way a moan escaped or the way your nails dug crescents into Seokjin’s smooth skin.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” he chuckled darkly as he leaned his head back into the couch, the grip in your hair tightening even more. A helpless whine left your lips, and you became uncomfortably aware of the way your panties were sticking to your folds.

“Tell me, do you think I should punish you?” he asked, his honeyed voice lulling you into a state you couldn’t even begin to explain with words.

You tried nodding again, hissing at the flash of pain when you tried move your head from his grip.

“Princess, haven’t you learned to use your words? I think I’ll bend you over my knee right here. What do you think about that?”

“Please,” you gasped without hesitation, freezing when you fluttered your eyelids open to meet his gaze.

If you weren’t sure whether his eyes were laced with red before, it was evident now. It only made him all the more enticing, and your vision fell down to his mouth instinctively when he ran his tongue over his teeth. A pang of heat went through you when his fangs bit into his lip, and before you were thinking about it, a hand rose to brush against his mouth.

Your thumb grazed a fang almost reverently, and Seokjin only watched on fondly at the wonderment on your face. You supposed it might have been strange to touch your friend’s – boyfriend’s? – teeth like this, but you had always been curious. Hell, you hadn’t even seen fangs in person before last night. As far as you knew, they only extended when feeding or when feeling strong emotions, and neither tended to be something you could casually see on the street.

You bit at your lip when sharpness pushed into the pad of your finger, but his next words broke you free of your reverie.

“Bend over then.”

He released you from his grip dizzyingly fast, leaning back to watch you.

You were surprised at yourself with how quickly you situated your ass over his lap, the self-consciousness you would’ve expected to be feeling wholly absent. Seokjin was just that captivating.

You wiggled your way into a comfortable position, sticking a cushion under your head. Now that your ass was sticking out right into his view, you felt more vulnerable than ever, knowing that his eyes and ears were trained on your every movement and reaction.

Hands pushed your long shirt up over your hips, fingers trailing lightly over the globes of your ass, separated only by the thin fabric of your shorts. But not for long.

Fingers reached under your waistband and tugged down before you could react, yanking your shorts and panties down in one go.

With air suddenly hitting your sodden pussy, you could feel heat rise to your face at how exposed you found yourself. But any thought of shifting and hiding was erased when you heard Seokjin’s loud groan.

“Shit, you’re soaked, smell so fucking good,” he hissed, fingers reaching to push messily through your folds.

You couldn’t see him putting his fingers in his mouth, but the depraved moan he let out afterward had you squirming in his lap.

After your shorts and panties were pushed onto the floor, a large hand ran tenderly over the skin of your ass, fingers digging in slightly.

“Is ten on each side too much for you?” he asked. There was no hint of teasing in his tone, his voice firm. He continued his soft stroking as he waiting for an answer.

“Uhh... I don’t really know?” you responded meekly. Sure, you had been spanked before, but it was never this... structured? To be honest, you didn’t really know what “a lot” would be in terms of numbers.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’ll work our way up and see how it feels. Is that okay?”

You nodded at first, but quickly let out an ‘okay�� when you remembered how firm he was on a proper response.

“This means I’m trusting you to be honest and tell me to stop if it’s too much. I want you to feel good.”

“Okay.”

You released tension you didn’t realize you’d had at his reassurances, allowing your limbs to loosen as you adjusted to lay more comfortably. The sensation of his hands on you made you feel safe and secure, and you knew for a fact that for all his hard words and cold stares, he was still always searching for your approval.

You twitched in surprise as a few light swats came down on each cheek, almost as though he was testing the motion. But after being briefly taken off guard, you relaxed under his hands, body already warming up at each light blow. You barely felt anything aside from a faint sting, but you could already feel your cunt throbbing, anticipation having you dig your nails into the cushion beneath you.

But even despite his preparation, the first real blow had you gasping. Not because it was overly painful – in fact, those pinpricks of pain were laced with pleasure, radiating outward from where his palm had firmly struck you. No, it was more that with the control and precision he showed, another realization struck you at that moment.

He really knew what he was doing.

This wasn’t just a college boyfriend who wanted to experiment with things he saw in porn, or a random bar hookup who thought he was more than he was.

No, Seokjin was the epitome of calculated control, had you eating out of the palm of his hand with one simple word. One look and you were his.

And fuck, if that didn’t make you melt.

You sighed happily as a hit came down on your other asscheek, another wave of arousal soaking your cunt.

“Do you want it harder?” he asked, voice low. The tone felt almost like a personal attack, honeyed words piercing your eardrums.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Yes or no. Don’t just agree to do things because I suggest it,” he scolded, punishing you with a swat to your upper thigh that stung sharper than his previous blows.

“Yes, I want it.”

“Hm,” he hummed, nails scratching over your skin, just barely missing the heat of your core. “I think I would be more convinced if you begged.”

As much as most of your embarrassment had already faded, what with being bent over Seokjin’s lap, it took so much more to put your desires verbally out into the world. But the throbbing in your cunt was fierce, and the warmth from his previous strikes was already fading. And you wanted more.

“Please,” you whined weakly before taking a deep breath to amp yourself up. “Please, Jinnie, I want it harder.”

You barely had time to process the tiny chuckle he let out before his palm came down on you again, the additional force behind it making you shiver despite the warmth that spread through you.

You didn’t know exactly how many more times his hand struck your ass, but your quiet moans were interrupted by his voice once again.

“Harder?”

As much as you felt good, it still wasn’t enough. The sting wasn’t enough, the heat wasn’t enough. You wanted more, needed more.

“Yes, please.”

“Mm, there you go. Maybe I should do this more often if you’re going to be such a good girl for me after.”

He punctuated his statement with a harsh blow to your ass, the strength of it forcing a moan from your lungs. A hand stroked tenderly over where it had struck, before doing the same to the other cheek. You whimpered as you felt another gush of wetness spill from your cunt, squirming as another strike rained down.

Yes, this is what you wanted.

The feeling was heady, your mouth open and allowing all the sounds to spill from your lips. Every cell in your body felt hot, from your fingertips down to your toes. You were certain you must have been making a mess of his lap with how wet you were.

You didn’t realize how heavily you were breathing until the smacks stopped, fingers gently kneading at the raw skin instead. Your skin felt almost burned, but more than anything, you needed those hands to slip between your legs. Now that there was nothing else to distract you, your neglected pussy was desperate for something, anything.

“How are you?” he asked several moments later.

His continued soothing touch dampened the fire of your skin before long, but that only furthered your arousal, shifting in his lap in search of some relief. You itched for some pressure on your clit, but it wasn’t possible in the position he had you in.

“Good,” you breathed, pressing back into his touch.

“Good.” He let his fingers creep ever-so-closer to where you needed him most, rubbing against where your wetness had spread, just beside your outer folds. “I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?”

“Please,” you whined immediately, but luckily, he didn’t seem interested in making you wait any longer. Maybe it was the fact that he had been waiting just as long, or that he was just tired of your constant fidgeting in his lap.

A finger slid in without resistant – unsurprisingly, what with the way you could feel the air hitting your slick skin. Your walls clamped down on the intrusion immediately, and another finger slid down to rub tiny circles onto your clit.

You whined in relief, but Seokjin unfortunately held you down to keep you from thrusting back onto his hand.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured, slipping another finger in when he felt how easily you took the first.

As much as one didn’t feel like enough, two of his fingers was so much bigger than your own. The stretch had you gasping, the friction against your walls and clit making you moan out.

As he scissored his fingers inside of you, the slight burn had you hissing, though the constant ministrations on your clit made sure the pain never became your focus.

“Mm, are you sure you can take my cock?” he mused, smirking at the way you were already whimpering, increasing the pace of his thrusts as your moans got more frequent.

“I can!” you blurted out, sounding almost offended. He had to stifle a laugh. You had always been fun to rile up, and sex was no exception.

“Hm, okay,” he hummed, amusement colouring his tone. You almost called him out on it before his fingers pulled out of you abruptly.

“Jin-”

Before you could question him, beg him to come back, hold him against you – three fingers started easing their way inside of you.

You tensed up almost immediately at the harsher burn at your entrance, the stiffness of your body not doing you much of a favour. He paused all movement at your struggle.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

His words had you feeling more at ease, a reminder that he was here, he wanted you to feel good, and he only kept on making that fact clear.

You made a noise of agreement, forcing your muscles to relax despite how much they wanted to clamp down. You wanted his cock, after all. You could take his fingers.

He took his time with you, slowly easing his fingers in and scissoring them apart, all the while his other hand resting beneath your abdomen, rubbing into your clit. You keened under his continuous murmured praise, moaning as he began to thrust his fingers.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his own breaths beginning to get heavy as he watched you twitch and whine at his hand.

Once the discomfort passed, your pleasure crested ridiculously fast with how long you’ve been waiting to be touched, filled. He stretched you open so wide, and you clenched around his digits at the thought of those fingers being his cock instead.

You were easily giving yourself away with how your walls were clamping down more and more, heavier gasps leaving you. The stroking at your clit wasn’t getting any slower, and soon enough you felt like you were going to snap.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, princess?” he asked roughly, his voice showing an uncharacteristic lack of control as he spread his fingers wide again.

“Please,” you said feebly, all other words having left your available vocabulary long ago. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you, baby.” The crook of his fingers took you by surprise, and with one, two, strokes against that spongy spot within you, you were gone.

Your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs, your legs going weak as waves of bliss hit you everywhere at once. His hands on you didn’t stop their motions, only sending new waves up your spine, shivers wracking your body as you grasped the closest object tightly – your nails digging into the cushion beneath you.

He only stopped when you started to squirm away as pain took over the pleasure, a whimper escaping as his fingers were removed.

If you thought you were getting a moment to breathe, you were wrong.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled.

Before you could blink, you were on your back, his lips attacking yours in a frenzy.

The grip he had on your thigh was sure to bruise, his still-clothed cock rocking into your sensitive pussy as he consumed your every thought, every desire.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the realization only building the fire that had already been relit within you.

You allowed him to pull the shirt from your body, your skin left completely bare beneath his.

His gaze was somewhere between reverent and demonic, and he looked almost ready to pounce back on you before he paused.

“Bed?” His voice sounded strained, and you thought briefly back to what he said about how much self-control the past day has required from him. You glanced down at the bulge in his pants, and you had to keep yourself from grabbing at it, eager to give him his pleasure the same way he’d done for you.

“Okay.”

You didn’t think your lips formed the second syllable before you were being scooped up, your arms looping around his neck to steady yourself from the abrupt movement.

The walk to the bedroom was somewhat of a blur, your stomach lurching at the speed with which he moved. You’d known the man was quick, but experiencing it firsthand was partly unsettling, and partly... strangely sexy.

Your back hit the sheets with unexpected force, your body bouncing back up from the impact. You’d never considered strength to be such a significant turn-on, but combined with everything else about him, it seemed to make Seokjin the most dangerously attractive man you’ve ever encountered.

You thought you were about to get fucked into the mattress – the hunger in Seokjin’s stare only cementing the thought – but it seemed that he had other ideas.

“Jin-”

You were about to beg him to touch you, fuck you, do literally anything – when his hands wrapped around your ankles, spreading your legs apart enough that you could begin to feel the strain in your thighs.

The way he was gazing at your fully exposed core almost made you self-conscious before you took in the way his breathing was heavier than you’d ever seen it, the crimson completely having taken over the brown of his irises.

“I have – I have to taste you,” he groaned.

He sprung on you in an instant, plush lips wrapping around your clit and sucking before his tongue moved down to lap at your arousal.

While you were still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm, the discomfort was nothing in comparison to the bliss lighting up your nerves. You were a slave to pleasure under his tongue, hands holding you down as you attempted to buck up into him instinctively.

His tongue attacked you like a man starved, his unabashed moans into your heat leaving you gasping.

But as much as he was successfully making you lose your mind, you didn’t want to cum like this.

“Jin, fuck-” you whimpered, body aching to grind up into his face despite your next words.

He only hummed into your pussy at your noises, motions not pausing whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, a hand winding into his hair in an attempt to pull him off you.

You almost thought he was pretending not to hear you when he didn’t react straightaway, but not long after, he pulled off of you.

He didn’t even say a word in response, only shucking off his pants and boxers with a heaving chest.

You swore your pussy throbbed when you saw his cock, only moreso when he fisted it with a hiss, lips that were glistening with your arousal widening to reveal sharp white fangs.

“I have to be inside you right fucking now,” he snarled, dragging your body down by the thighs to meet him where he knelt.

You felt almost feverish, your hands reaching to yank Seokjin by the shoulders, the need to be closer taking over your every thought.

He kissed you frantically as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit, your back arching up into him, his closeness still not close enough for you.

You were so close to pleading with him not to draw this out, but he settled himself against your entrance, his other arm supporting himself by your head. When he started to push in, you could only whimper.

You knew he was big when he grasped himself in his hand only moments before, but for all his preparation, it felt like you were being split open.

You clung onto his biceps as he rocked himself forward at a snail’s pace, nails digging into his skin as you clamped down on him reflexively. It burned, but you wanted it so bad. As much as the discomfort was intense, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, unable to stop panting into Seokjin’s mouth.

You whined as he nibbled at your bottom lip, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles into your thigh, the other in your hair. But when you felt fangs puncture your lip ever-so-slightly before he sucked it into his mouth, all breath was stolen from you.

It was only the smallest fraction of the pleasure you felt the night before, but that was enough to have your head thrown back, hips raising to meet Seokjin’s.

It almost seemed that he wasn’t expecting you to thrust upward onto him, a strangled groan leaving his throat as you shoved more of him inside you.

The stretch remained overwhelming, but the pain felt like a distant memory, new arousal making the glide smoother.

“Good?” he gasped against your collarbone, hot breaths hitting your skin as his hair brushed against your face. The arm holding him up was trembling at your side, the fingers on your thigh tightening their hold as if to physically hold himself together.

Part of you just wanted him to lose control.

“So good,” you moaned, shoving your hips up again, volume increasing exponentially when he allowed you to push him in to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he growled, arm moving to form a bruising grip on your other thigh, his chest moving away from yours. “Are you that desperate for it?”

The question was accompanied by a sharp snap of his hips that sent you reeling, too breathless for any sound to escape.

He spread your thighs apart even further, a hand beneath your left knee lifting your leg towards his chest.

The next quick thrust hit you even harder at that angle, a choked-out whine escaping you. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he ground himself into you, your pussy feeling split so overwhelmingly wide.

You were wound up so tight, you thought you were going to go crazy. It was impossible to think straight when he only did quick snaps of his hips at random intervals. You didn’t think you’d ever been hornier than this moment, and you swore you could feel the arousal leaking from your cunt.

You could see sparks of light behind your eyelids with how tightly you had them shut. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, the flesh still tender from Seokjin’s bite.

His thrusts became slow and deep, tiny gasps leaving your open mouth.

“Look at me,” he snarled suddenly, the sheer command in his voice sending shivers up your spine, gaze snapping onto him immediately. It took a moment for your vision to focus properly, still drowning in the sensation of his cock still moving within you.

If you thought he looked fierce, hungry, dangerous – you were his polar opposite.

To put it simply, you were a mess.

You were too lost in it all to notice the stutter in his hips when he locked eyes with you, but he almost stopped breathing entirely.

Your eyes were glazed over in pleasure, the tears just beginning to gather there only making their colour all the more enticing. Your expression was slack, and it looked like you couldn’t decide between clamping down on your bottom lip or leaving your mouth wide-open. You looked so vulnerable, so willing to put all of your trust in him to take care of you, make you feel good.

And fuck, if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

His movements after that caught you off guard, his abrupt rough thrusting engulfing your body in flames of bliss, loud moan leaving you. As much as holding his gaze made everything feel so much more intense, you just couldn’t. Your head fell back onto the pillow, back arching as much as he would allow you to move in his tight hold.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice sounding almost helpless and he continued his movements, his arms the only thing keeping you from shifting up the mattress. As his gasps transitioned to groans and then loud moaning, you could feel yourself nearing your peak again.

He slowed his movements, the heavy panting reaching your eardrums and having you clench around him instinctively. The choked-out groan in response told you he was close, too.

“Jin,” you called out, the word so breathy that you almost didn’t recognize it despite it coming from your own lips.

You raised an arm to weakly grab at his body, hoping he got the message himself. You wanted him close, but highly doubted that you could manage to form the words right now.

Luckily, he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, dropping your leg and moving to hover over you, your breasts brushing his chest. He started thrusting slowly again, his head dropping to your collarbone as a hand wound into the hair at your scalp.

With him right on top of you, his pubic bone was brushing against your clit, the added stimulation having you whine loudly and dig your nails harshly into the skin of his back.

He didn’t seem to mind, a loud groan leaving him as he started mouthing at your neck, sucking bruises into the flesh.

But when you felt fangs briefly scrape over your skin, only one thought came to mind and refused to leave.

You wanted it, wanted his fangs to sink into you, wanted to feel that again. Now.

“Bite me,” you whimpered, pushing your head into the pillow and arching your back, eager to give him free reign as your orgasm inched closer and closer.

You expected him to protest, expected him to deny you, expected him to pull away.

But he did none of those things.

Instead, fangs sunk deeply into your neck with a feral growl, almost as soon as he heard the words leave your lips.

That same immense burst of pain rendered you motionless for a split second before that all-consuming euphoria descended on you.

You vaguely registered Seokjin moaning loudly above you as his hips stuttered, his lips locked on your neck. But you felt almost disconnected from the world, as though every nerve in your body was firing, your cunt pulsating around him as you reached the strongest high you’d ever felt.

It felt almost instinctual to grip at his back tightly, pulling him close, as if he’d ever want to leave. You didn’t even realize how loud you were being, your peak only going higher and higher, to the point of being overwhelming.

Tears streamed from where your eyes were clamped shut, moans turning into sobs as Seokjin ground against your overstimulated clit, your pussy clenched around him tightly.

You were so far gone you didn’t even notice the warmth spilling into you as he groaned loudly into your skin, his movements slowing before he pulled his mouth from you.

The crash was almost immediate, exhaustion and soreness taking over your limbs as you gasped for breath, the hands on Seokjin’s back falling limp. It felt like all the strength was sapped from your body, your consciousness half-absent.

You thought you heard Seokjin fussing over you, his hands wiping tears from your face, but to be honest, it was all a blur. He disconnected with you easily despite your mumbled protests, dropping a kiss on your forehead with a soft command not to move. You didn’t think you were capable of such a thing anyway.

You hardly registered his absence before he was back with a wet cloth. You didn’t know if that was because of his speed or because you were too tired to pay attention.

The next thing you knew, he had rolled you to lay on top of him, your face tucked into his neck as he stroked at your back. Normally, you might have complained about how much colder he was than you, but your skin was still so heated that the coolness was a relief.

You could tell that he was saying something quietly, unsure whether he was asking you something or not. His voice only brought you warm comfort, your arm moving to wrap around his waist.

You honestly weren’t too sure how long you laid there until your senses started coming back to you, but the hand on your back never stopped its soothing motions. The realization made you strangely embarrassed, wondering how long you’ve been out of it.

“Did I fall asleep?” you mumbled, nuzzling into the softness of Seokjin’s neck.

“Not really, it hasn’t been too long,” he responded, though the way he paused made it seem that he had more to say. It took a few moments before he got the words out. “Did I go too hard? Was it too much?”

Despite the low volume of his voice, he sounded almost frantic, and your brows furrowed. Why was he so worried?

“Of course not. I asked you for it, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

He sighed heavily, his hands on you pausing. “I know, I just – I got worried when you were barely responding to me. I guess I was just afraid that you would be scared of me after.”

You felt a tinge of guilt at his concern, but logically it was nobody’s fault. As much as you wanted to take his face in your hands and tell him that you don’t regret anything and there wasn’t a world where you could ever be scared of him, you doubted your ability to do so right now. Instead, you hoped that simple reassurance could be enough.

“I loved it,” you said plainly, sleepiness clear in your voice. You were fighting past the fog in your brain to talk to him, wanting to make sure he knew where you stood.

“I loved it too,” he whispered before bringing up the blanket to cover both of you. “You sound tired. Why don’t we sleep?”

“Wait.”

“Hm?” he hummed in response, his confused expression hid from your view.

“Are you my boyfriend?” Your words sounded almost slurred with how close you were to unconsciousness, but his chest bouncing as he chuckled told you that he heard you just fine.

You were dangerously close to dreamland, but you caught his answer right before you fell asleep in his arms.

“Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.”

[greensaplinggrace]

honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

[endlessymphony]

hi hi !! i was wonder if i could get a remus x reader where the reader is the mom friend of the group and super caring to the other boys (like constantly telling them to take care of themselves and helping with homework and such) and the boys tease the by calling them “mom and dad” all the time ? its literally my fave trope wkixiskjg also i love all ur writings !!! thank u !! xx

parental dynamic.

remus lupin x fem reader

summary - you were always the ‘mom friend’ in every group, what happens when you and the ‘dad friend’ partner up?

warnings - cussing

a/n - y’all making me simp for everyone

no matter what friend-group you were in, you always ended up earning the title of group ‘mom’; maybe that was because you carried around ibuprofen in case someone had a headache, or how you helped everyone with their homework- going so far as to tutor them, or perhaps it was the fact that you always had snacks on you because merlin-forbid someone gets hungry.

it was no surprise that when you started hanging around with the marauders, they started calling you ‘mom’; in fact, you took that nickname with pride. they clung to you like a group of lost ducklings, being a constant reminder of why you carry around meds, snacks and offer homework help. however, it was a shock when they started calling remus ‘dad’- he was always a little standoffish and aloof, not really fitting the ‘dad’ type. ...did they just start doing this because of your little crush on him?

you sighed heavily, walking into the gryffindor common room to see sirius, james and peter already lounging about. “hey mom.” came a chorus of voices, none of them lifting their heads from whatever they were doing. “hey, boys.” you hummed in response, dropping your bag, which landed on the ground with a thump. sirius looked up, giving you a quizzical look as to ask ‘are you okay?’ without any words. “today was a long day- just tired, is all.”

you claimed your space on the floor near the fireplace, body feeling heavy. you were exhausted, classes draining you of any life you had left to give. they all offered you sympathetic looks, “does anyone need help with anything?” you ask, looking over at them. “well… we’ve all been pretty stuck on this thing for potions.” peter admits, face flushing slightly. you can’t help but chuckle, “alright let’s get started, shall we?”

an hour has passed, and you’ve pretty much done everybody’s homework for them. “does that make sense now?” you ask, the boys nodding at you. “thank you, mum.” sirius chimes, shooting a wink in your direction. you yawn, rubbing your eyes as you starfish yourself across the floor. “hey guys. sorry, i’m late, i know.” remus smiles sheepishly as he sits down on the floor with the rest of you, arms full of books. “i was in the library, and then i lost track of time.”

“it’s okay, dad.” james replies, peeking at you from the corner of his eye. you felt your whole face heating up- the nickname meant nothing, right? it was just for fun, a joke. you rolled over to lay on your stomach, propping your head up on your palms. “hey rem.” you said softly, a small smile gracing your lips.

“maybe we should give mom and dad some alone time.” sirius said, grabbing his bag and standing up, heading upstairs to the dorms. james and peter followed shortly after, not before james could wink at the two of you, though. “shithead.” you grumbled under your breath, remus chuckled lightly. “so, mom” he starts, “how was your day?”

you sit up, crossing your legs as you sigh again, heavily. “tiring, i’m absolutely drained. how about you, dad?” the two of you can’t help but giggle about the nicknames. “how did you end up as dad, anyways?” using air quotations around the word dad. you tilt your head, raising a brow slightly. he stumbles over his words, running a hand through his hair- a nervous habit. “not sure, really. they just started calling me it one-day.”

“yeah, sure.” you drawl, winking at him. all five of you had a habit of winking, but no one knows who started it- if you had to guess, it was probably sirius. “okay, honestly. they started calling me it because i maybesortoflikeyoualittlebit?” he grew quiet towards the end of the sentence, all his words slurred together, not legible. you furrowed your brows slightly, “you what?” “i like you, y/n.” “oh.”

the heat returned to your face, even worse this time then the last. remus lupin? likes you back? could this day get any better? “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything.” remus looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. “no-no! it’s fine… i, uh.” you struggle to format your feelings into words, so you just give up- grabbing him by the tie and putting your lips on his.

remus’ eyes widen, before closing gently as he kissed you back, hands now resting against your cheeks- cupping your face. it was a sweet and simple first kiss, the two of you pulling back out of breath and flustered.

chuckles fill the room, “so… you guys really needed that alone time, huh?” james asked, smirking at the two of you. “shut up potter, or i won’t help you with potions anymore.” you shoot back, “understood.”

bonus;

“what if we pampered you for a night? like it was mother’s day or somethin’”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, a smile spreading across your face. “you’re kidding.” you went to grab your bag, wanting to start your readings for divination, but sirius pushed it out of your reach. “no, seriously y/n, we never really repay you for what you do for us.”

“fine.”

you ended up with various items ‘braided’ stuck in your hair- sirius did a decent job with the makeup, but you still ended up with too much hot-pink blush on and green eyelids. nailpolish was all over your fingers, not just your nails, but you can admit that peter did a good job with the intricate nail-art he contributed to the ‘pampering’.

“hey guys i’m- woah.” remus stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded by the sight in front of him. you gave him an awkward smile, “hey rem.”

tags 🏷- @miss-starkov @seekinglumos @wizardwheezes @terrific-tozier

join my taglist ˗ˏˋ here ! ˎˊ˗

[fukurodanni]

love for the rich and emotionally stunted: a comprehensive guide

ch. 2/7 -- prev. -- next. pairing: jumin han x f!reader warnings: n/a series summary: in the months following the incident with his father's most recent paramour, glam choi, the corporate heir of C&R finds himself discovering exactly what it is that makes a person in love so blind. ao3 link

note: sticking a read more right at the beginning. u kno how it is. thank you for sticking around i'll try my best to keep updates within a week or so!

(weeks prior.)

Jumin Han has entered the chatroom.

Jumin Han

She talked to me today.

ZEN

??

Who?

707

She??

There’s a she?!

Jumin Han

Oh.

I must have neglected to mention it.

ZEN

????

Last time there was a “she”...

Jumin Han

… No.

There’s a woman at my office.

Jaehee Kang

Does she work for you?

Jumin Han

Yes

707

That took an awfully long time for you to type lolol

Are you sure~~

Jumin Han

Yes. She wears a lanyard.

Jaehee Kang

Do you not know her name??

Jumin Han

I should think it would seem impolite after… all that.

Jaehee Kang

???

ZEN

?????

All that WHAT?

Jumin Han

I only caught a glimpse of her lanyard. I don’t know.

ZEN

Dodged my question… T_T

Jaehee Kang

Is this that woman you see in the mornings?

Jumin Han

How did you ....

ZEN

?!?!

707

Is our Jumin finally getting some?!

I’m so proud. Haha T_T

Jumin Han

Getting some… what?

Jaehee Kang

I can look into her.

For research purposes. Of course^^

Jumin Han

;;;

I only just started seeing her this month.

At the door. Seeing her at the door.

707

Seeing her OTL

Maybe she’s your future lover come to save you^^

Jumin Han

I doubt that.

ZEN

Yeah lolol

I doubt it too

And right after the Choi thing?? No way.

707

T_T

Ur right

There’s no way...

-

“Do you play video games, Mr Han?”

That’s a new one. “Where would I find the time?” He asks, thinking of Yoosung. “It’s a useless hobby.”

“That was a quick answer,” you reply. “Who hurt you?”

Jumin raises a brow, inquisitive. “No one.”

“Okay,” you say, the beginnings of a grin playing on your lips. “Who ruined video games for you?”

He thinks of the dark smudges under Yoosung’s eyes, the awful typos and the messages at 3am. It’s only a little funny. The door closes behind them. “No one in particular.”

“You’re smiling, Mr Han. Just a little.” You smile too at this, tilting your head in that curious way of yours. When you reach the lobby and then your separate ways, Jumin spares a glance at you.

He wants to say something more, something lodged very deep in his throat that comes out dry breath. He’s never been too good at small-talk, not with colleagues, not with business outside of work. He wants to be, just a little.

He’s not quite sure how that came to be.

-

It’s beyond embarrassing the way he comes up to you in the cafeteria. “You work here,” he says, a very belated realization.

You blink a few times, as if processing. “Yes,” you say slowly. “I have a lanyard.” You wave the offending item around and Jumin finally, finally catches a glimpse of your name.

“I see,” Jumin says, because that’s all he really can say. “Work hard.”

He consults his phone right away, willing the heat from his face and opening the messenger app. It goes as well as expected when he mentions it so vaguely-- Hyun rags on him for his lack of conversational skills and Yoosung drops a line or two about his own miserable love life. In any case, Assistant Kang’s information on you had only reached him earlier today and in a way he’s still coping. It had been baffling to say the least, finally having everything in front of him rather than scattered in the bits and pieces of your dialogue.

You work, technically, in the same position Assistant Kang does. Only in the fashion department, of which Jumin had strategically ignored after Echo Girl and the Chois. It really isn’t his fault he hadn’t noticed you-- not since before this month when you began arriving so consistently.

“Something on your mind?” Assistant Kang asks, looking up from where she’s shuffling through a stack of papers. It isn’t unusual for her to break the silence with a quip-- she’s always been good at easing into a mode of conversation that takes the edge off. As a good assistant and employee should, of course. Jumin wonders if he should relay this to her.

“Nothing,” he says instead, because surely she already knows. “Is it polite to bring gifts for someone you’re sure you will be seeing every morning?”

She raises a thin brow. “Who-- that woman at the fashion department?”

Jumin deigns not to answer right away, looking down at the state of his nails and the tick of his wristwatch. “Surely there must be some etiquette about that.”

-

Jaehee Kang

Buy her coffee.

ZEN

Get her a promotion lol

707

A new car!!!

Yoosung★

Maybr a nicce pen

??

-

“Any favorite TV shows?” You ask one morning. “Personally, I’m fond of office romances.”

Jumin lags for a moment, waiting to catch up. It isn’t an unusual occurrence. “Is that an innuendo?”

You smile, a little flushed-looking, and wave a hand. “Nope. Not at all.” When you look at the second coffee in his hand, though, it seems you need a second to catch up yourself. You’d mentioned offhandedly how you take your coffee the day before, and today something had stopped him at the threshold of the coffee shop he stops at every morning. Funny how things work like that.

“This is for you,” he says determinedly, and you smile a little but there’s still an edge.

“You dodged my question.” You state simply. Jumin does not know what to say.

He thinks about it for a moment, really thinks about it. The only thing that really comes to mind are the Sunday morning programs, and he doesn’t really know them off the top of his head. Maybe the morning news. “No TV shows. Next question.”

“Okay then,” you say, “Any pet peeves?”

Jumin smiles a little. It isn’t really conscious, but he’s finally figured out a way to respond and he just hopes it takes well. “Women who stop me at the door in the morning.”

“Oh,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee. You hum appreciatively. He feels strangely, indirectly accomplished. “Shame. Mine’s men who give me three word responses when I ask them things.”

He scoffs, although it isn’t as hard as it usually comes out. “I answered that in a sentence.” He says, very assuredly. When he looks back at you there’s a softer smile at your lips, rounded at the corners and not quite so mischievous as he’s seen it look before. It looks fond.

“I know,” you reply. He feels a little warmer now, turning the corner where you two part ways. You offer him a two-fingered salute, a “See you in the morning!” and a final turn.

And then you’re gone.

-

The next time the conversation lingers long past the lobby it’s because you’ve coaxed him into talking about Elizabeth III. There’s a point where you’ve reached the elevator and he’s talking to you about her care routine and the minutiae of what it takes to keep her fur so soft and pristine (much of it is her own work and her natural beauty-- of course) and he’s only barely aware of how long he’s been going on, but he pauses to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, between Jaehee’s hesitancy and Luciel’s rabid praise and Hyun’s outright disgust--

But there’s something about the way you’re looking at him when he’s finished, curiouser and half-curved into a smile. And he’s been on the receiving end of that before-- his father’s lovers, interviewers and subordinates-- but none of them have ever seemed so affectionate.

He’s seen the same look before when it’s Jaehee with a new photocard, the way Yoosung danced around Rika. It’s the glint in Luciel’s glasses when he gets to working and it’s something, something.

You look like you’ve seen something beautiful.

Which is understandable to him, really, having just shown you pictures of his Elizabeth III. What he understands less is the way you’re looking at him and not the open phone, caught up in a silence that seems way too heavy for a conversation about his cat. Even when the elevator dings it’s with some trepidation that you leave first, a memory, a discovery pulled taut between you two.

“I hope I get to meet her sometime,” you say.

Jumin nods, wordless. The delight on your face at such a simple gesture fixates itself in the forefront of his mind until he returns home to Elizabeth, flickering like hell and unbidden and unexpected but not exactly unwelcome. It’s just as confusing to him as it sounds on paper.

-

Somehow Jaehee gets to you first.

For all the time he’s spent working with Jaehee, working around her and in her general proximity, he doesn’t actually know what time she gets into the building. She seems like an inevitability, something constant and fixed and always there.

So when he holds the door open for two women, Jumin is feeling like he had seen something he wasn’t supposed to. Especially since the two of you seem to be chatting so jovially, shaking her hand with both of yours when you go to part.

There’s another something clogging his throat, a cloying want and a halfhearted desire to draw that same laugh from you, that same open brightness. He hasn’t let himself feel so much about one person-- one particular and fixed point in his life. Jumin feels like he’s chasing-- some feeling, some unnamed ball of fire-- a meteor, blazing and brilliant and too much to be real.

It’s too much to be compared to anything else, not when Sarah Choi was an unlit match next to what a beaming bonfire you are. Suddenly Jumin feels more tightly wound than he usually does.

And really, truly, it feels like a lot to handle, so he turns on his heel after silently handing you the coffee and begins to march. It feels like karmic debt for not having experienced these things as a schoolboy, and then only once as an adult. He doesn’t even know if the one time counted.

“Mr Han--” you say, and it happens at the same time he holds his breath to turn again. Just to look, to see if you appeared as off kilter as he felt. Maybe the world had rotated wrong today.

You stop there in your tracks and he really does believe for a moment that the world has gone astray-- because then it would explain the way air isn’t getting to his lungs right. He inhales just to make sure and before any other dialogue comes from your lips he asks, “Walk with me?”

You both take the elevator then.

-

Jaehee Kang

She’s a very nice woman.

Yoosung★

Huh?

707

U met her?!?!!

Tell me everything

-

It makes your mornings longer, the introduction of the elevator route. He isn’t sure how it became mutual agreement and routine, the same way the cup of coffee steams in your hands and the way you ask after Elizabeth III. The way the door gets held open.

Jumin isn’t sure how many mornings go by, how many of them are spent dreading the chime of the elevator, but one of them brings a much quieter you. And you’re usually such a whirlwind of life, pulling him toward and towards you-- he’d be lying to himself more than usual if he said he wasn’t worried.

You look like you’re steeling yourself too, and you’ve never done that-- there isn’t a thing you’ve said to him that was measured or prepared. You’re kind of like an overexcited puppy, and he’s never been too fond of dogs.

He feels something slide out of place, something like a realization that’s far grander than he knows, hovering at the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know what it is yet, not really. He’s barely out of his head, ready to ask if you’re alright--

And you cut him off. Like you did that first morning, knocking the breath from his lungs and everything else out of place. Jumin likes things neat and tidy, likes things where they should be, where he’s used to seeing them. You aren’t too good for him, he thinks.

Then you ask, “Would you want to go out sometime?” And he has no reference materials and no forewarning and no prepared response. The odds are against him.

So against all odds and every simmering nerve in his body he says, “Yes.”

tags: @vandysgf @mrs-han

[charcubed]

Ok so i just finished watching sherlock in complete after watching it like wayyyy back when in 2014 tumblr era with the reichenbach fall and everything. So after finishing it i had some thoughts about the general fandom discourse and i thought who better to ask than char! Ofc ur not obligated to answer this!!

So as i finished it i thought john and sherlock’s story ended in THE most canon way possible? Watching i was honest to god going holy shit they didnt— they did that holy shitt?? Like they killed john’s wife, gave them a kid and basically ended it by saying yea john and sherlock lived together happily with a child forever and like also solve cases together this is their life now. And i was genuinely pleased with the outcome i felt it was the best way to handle that while giving the fandom everything it wanted! Then… i came online and found out that sentiment was NOT shared at all and i was baffled to say the least! So i was just wondering why that is? I feel like im not in the sherlock loop enough to deduce this on my own.

Anyway thanks for reading this if youve made it this far lmaoo hope u have a great day!

Hi anon! Sorry for the late response. I'm slowly going through asks on here after not having been on Tumblr super actively for a hot minute.

This is a bit of a complicated question (as most things are with Sherlock). But I will do my level best to answer is as comprehensively as I can.

I think there are a lot of elements at play in terms of how people perceived series 4 in general.

1. S4 breaks a lot of the rules that all the previous series set in place for the worldbuilding of Sherlock, and the way it's grounded in reality. It also has moments that feel out of character, too. (All of this is for a reason, but I will get to that.) Even things down to the cinematography have changed in a subtle ways, and feel off because they're meant to. But that means that in small and large ways, it upset many viewers. Sherlock's deductive reasoning skills are almost exaggerated in a superhuman fashion which makes things more unrealistic; John treats Sherlock overly poorly at times in ways that can feel out of character; Mary dies in a way that is physically impossible, and that physically impossible death is even mentioned in a previous episode as being unrealistic; everything about The Final Problem is absurdism to the extreme, with Eurus practically being from the X-Men; etc. etc. There's tons to point out. It doesn't feel like BBC Sherlock in quite a few fundamental ways, which a lot of people picked up on either consciously or subconsciously, and thus were upset by.

2. With the caveat that I did not feel this way personally: a lot of queer fans felt disrespected because they expected/wanted Johnlock to become canon, and then it wasn't, and then in the end Mary's voiceover added insult to injury by saying "Well, you listen to me: who you really are, it doesn’t matter. It’s all about the legend, the stories, the adventures." Many queer fans took that very personally, as if the narrative was telling them that it doesn't matter who you are and it doesn't matter who these characters are, or something. I will fully admit to you I don't fully understand why people took that to heart so strongly, and I don't think that was the intent at all, but that was a big part of the backlash as well. Combine that with how the end felt like ~the end of the show,~ and yet so much about S4 felt dissatisfactory, and it was just a clusterfuck of emotions for many people.

All that being said...

You saying it ended in "the most canon way possible" is very interesting to me, because you've hit the nail on the head, perhaps without fully realizing it.

The whole show–and series 4 in particular–exists as commentary on Arthur Conan Doyle's original stories, the Johnlock hidden between its lines, and Watson's unreliable narration. I talked a bit about that in this thread here. To make my point in this post, I'll post an excerpt below:

People read ACD Watson's stories and go "Why are all these details wrong? Did he just not care?" People watch s4 and say the same. But what comes next will expose the answer: false narratives were necessary for their safety because they're in love. For canon era, what threatens their safety is homophobia/heteronormativity in society at large. For the show, Moriarty and Mary are the personification of those things and force Johnlock apart; defeating them will lead to accepting and being open about the truth of their relationship. This is why the writers say they thought everyone else was "getting it wrong" & it's about the relationship between 2 men. BBC Sherlock a standalone story, but in wider context... it's commentary on Holmes and Watson in general, and illuminating hidden depths in ACD's canon.

To explain a bit further... basically, for a century, people have been pointing to ACD's stories and trying to make sense of the inconsistencies in Watson's writings to little avail. Details contradict each other, or salient points seem to be left out; this is also the case of series 4 and is part of the point. The prime theory about series 4 that I agree with / that aligns with my reading of it is that series 4 is unreliably narrated by or told by John Watson. It's often referred to as "blog theory" as shorthand, because the idea is that the show has become the blog. (I have reblogged some relevant posts tagged "blog theory" here)

Series 4 acts as commentary on John and Sherlock as characters, and as crucial commentary on Watson's unreliable narration in the original ACD stories. Why would Watson (or in our case, John) have had to hide or meddle with details? Well, maybe for the sake of their safety, as queer men in a time that would not look upon that kindly. This is what the show (seemingly, if we're correct) intends to convey and highlight by bringing these elements to the forefront, and by making Johnlock explicitly canon.

So when you say that series 4 ended in a way akin to the canon of the original stories, with John's wife dead and them solving cases forever (together with a kid)... you're correct. But part of the point is that there is more to their story, and for many, that feels insufficient whether they realize it or not. Sherlock series 4 show us a world where it's about the "adventures," where John and Mary are in love but Sherlock and John are at odds and in the end leave much unspoken, where the Holmes intellect is unrealistic, etc. to have people instinctively sense all of this is wrong and ultimately crave correction via re-centering Johnlock as the core of the story.

As Moffat said in 2014,

"I think we've always favored the characters, because that's the vivid thing in Sherlock Holmes stories. At the beginning of every Sherlock Holmes story, there are two or three pages of just Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson having a chat by the fireside. That's what people fell in love with. So we've always favored that. As we keep proclaiming to anyone who's not completely bored of it by now, it's not a detective show; it's a show about a detective. That's why it's a hit. That's why it's exciting." (x)

In the end of series 4, Mary says "It's about the legend, the stories, the adventures." But that's not what the creators think Sherlock Holmes canon has truly ever been about at its heart! So, why do this? They have given the general audience something that is, in many ways, unexpected but contains the elements that they would naturally assume they'd want... Mary dead, the Holmes siblings being soooo brilliant, it's only about the cases, etc... and they have done that to make viewers realize maybe that is not what they want, and thus make them understand the thing they DO want instead: Sherlock Holmes to be "the most human, human being," and for Sherlock and John to reach emotional catharsis together in a queer outcome.

Of course, you're valid Anon for liking the ending and not understanding everyone's dissatisfaction! I am genuinely happy you enjoyed it on its own merits in a surface level way!! And as I said, you're correct in saying that it aligns with canon in many aspects.

But a lot of people (consciously or unconsciously) expected/wanted this show to go beyond the (heteronormative) veneer original canon maintained for Holmes and Watson... partially because the show has been setting that up for years. And if they didn't want it before, after the weirdness of series 4, they especially will want it now. So–if we're correct–that is the very deliberate intention, and it's been set up to be subverted in series 5. Series 4 will be explained / have reasons for its existence, and in series 5 the true story will be told.

(The final words of Arthur Conan Doyle's original canon, in the order in which they were first presented, were "Someday the true story may be told.")

I hope that clears things up a bit, even though this explanation is fairly long and probably went in directions you didn't expect lol. And if you want to read some series 4 meta, "Poetry or Truth" by @garkgatiss is some of the best there is. At some point, I'm going to try to put together a solid masterlist of series 4 meta too for anyone who may be interested in diving in fresh!

Thank you for the question, and I'm really glad you got back into Sherlock, as it is (obviously) one of my favorite things! <333

[kaepop-trash]

IM SHOOK? SHAKEN? CHANGED??:&:9 PUSH AND PULL IS SO GOOD??:&:@; AAAA. I LOVE YOUR WORK.. LITERALLY OBSESSED ... i was wondering if it had a part 2 BUT THE CLIFF HANGER .. GOD INSANITY.. UR SUCH A GOOD WRITER AAAAA

There was a time when I had considered writing another part for it, but truly there was just one scene I really wanted to write. When I saw this, I felt compelled to write it. Consider it an apology for the cliff hanger I left the fic on. Not that this is any better.

I was intrigued by this dynamic when I wrote this fic and I continue to be even now. So consider this more self-gratification than anything else. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it.

Tw: unhealthy relationship dynamic, hints of obsession and violence if you squint.

_

This was strange. She was allowed to think that. The restaurant was a good one, she was dressed as well as she always was.

Kim Doyoung was in a white shirt and dark jeans. His eyes were focused on the menu in his hand, brows stitch together in concentration. The other hand ran through his hair, an honest effort to push it out of his face. But it was long and fell over his eyes just as soon as he let it go, the only difference being a few strands that stuck up.

She looked down at her fingers, nails now cleaned of the blood from his scalp. He had very soft hair too, she could remember the feel of it against her palm. She could remember the other parts too.

"Have you decided what you want?" His voice made her look up. He was watching her with careful calculation, the gaze of a panther assessing his prey. He was a fool to think she wasn't herself a predator.

"Sure." She slapped the menu close, the sound sudden and loud.

He just nodded, "Okay." His eyes coloured with amusement. She clenched her fist tight, impatient and irritated. "Are you usually this quiet?" He sat back in his seat.

"I speak when I want to, Mr. Kim." Her voice was curt.

He gave her a heinous smirk, "I had my tongue in your cunt, (Y/N). You can call me Doyoung." He reached for his glass of water.

His words made her shift in her chair. Her body reacting against her will was what made the last thread of courtesy snap.

"Other people have done more than that. Physical intimacy isn't grounds for familiarity, not with me." She settled back into her chair. When his jaw flexed, she smiled. At least now they were both annoyed.

"What is grounds for familiarity with you?" His voice was sharper, gaze narrower.

"Why do you care, Mr. Kim?" She snapped. "I'm not interested in being familiar with you."

"Why not?" He furrowed his brows.

"I'm not interested in being familiar with anyone." It was the first honest thing she'd spoken in a while.

"Scared?" He looked intrigued.

"Indifferent." Her frown twisted further.

He hummed, considering her words. "I could make a compelling case."

"It would be a wasted effort. I'm sure you'll find someone more suited to your demands elsewhere." She reached for her glass of water, confused and displeased by the way this was going.

Yet a part of her clawed with intrigue, wanting to know why he was seemingly undeterred. It stopped her from walking out the door, "Can we order?" She questioned. He gave her an unbothered smile, nodding in answer. She wanted to pry open his skull if it told her what he was thinking.

"I don't understand why you're being so persistent. I'm not trying to be coy, I'm not interested in anything beyond sex." She told him once the waiter left with their orders.

"We can have sex." He said it like it was a consolation prize, one he only considered in hindsight.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "What do you want, Doyoung?"

He licked his lips, eyes grazing the skin over the low neckline of her dress. "I started a painting the night I first met you. I haven't painted anything in three years." His eyes glazed over at that, clearly not present at the table anymore. "The second time I met you, the image became clearer, I could picture the colours of it." His eyes focused again, honing in on her. Her stomach flipped. "Last night I thought of a different painting I will paint after this." He gave her a look of conviction, "I must get to know you better." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not keen on being used." She brushed it off.

"Being somebody's muse is a privilege, (Y/N)." His tone flares with offense, "It's being immortalised in memory. I want to capture you in between my brushes and commit you to canvas. I want to make you art." He frowned at her, confused by the rejection.

"Privilege?" She laughed, the sound light and melodious. "It sounds to me like I'm the one doing you a favour. It's your privilege, Mr. Kim." She laughed a little more.

"I don't care what you think." His words didn't match the look on his face, "I haven't had inspiration in years. I'm losing my touch. If I don't create, I cease to be." Anger seeped into his eyes, burning bright red.

She sat back in her chair, "What do I get in return?" She couldn't believe that she was actually considering it.

"What do you want, (Y/N)? Other than an artist's devotion."

She scoffed at his words, "Let me display your art. Anywhere, anytime. If you want to use me, I want to be the only person who gets to use your paintings." She saw the gears grinding in his head at her words.

While it would be a good deal to have, a part of her was sure he'd never agree to it. She knew his reputation. Kim Doyoung did not like sharing what was his.

"Fine." It was his lack of hesitation that caught her off-guard. “But I have a single condition instead. It’s not up for argument.”

She nodded, the possibility of having the exclusive right to display the art of one of the most coveted artists alive worth anything he could demand. He smiled like he was aware of that.

“I want you to myself. No other people.” His eyes bore into her, his gaze the most intense thing about his presence. She clenched her fist so tight that her nails dug into the skin, her palm stinging.

She wanted to slap him.

The demand was a clear sign of control over her. She knew artists, knew the extent of their obsessions. She also knew they tended to fade fast.

“Alright, Doyoung.” She bit her lip. “Have your way with me.” Despite herself, she felt her chest stir at her own words.

-

He flicked the light on, the large empty space illuminated with harsh white light. She looked around, the studio mostly empty save for a single canvas that rested against the wall. The smell of paint thinner in the air told her that he had been at it recently. Doyoung stood by the door as she walked towards the piece, the click of her heels echoing in the space.

The canvas was a messy blend of colours: red, orange and white. In the centre of ot sat the outline of a couch. “This is what you made?” She questioned, the perceptive eye of someone acquainted with art observing every detail.

“Don’t like it?” He spoke from across the room.

She focused on the blend of colours; despite the bold mix of red and orange, it was the white strokes that felt aggressive. “It’s confusing.” She shifted her weight between her feet.

She heard his footsteps approach her, “Have you ever felt rage, (Y/N)? Blinding rage that you cannot control? Only channel?” His words bounced off the walls.

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve your rage.” Her voice was softer.

“You seduced me, (Y/N).” His footsteps stopped short of her heel. “You were using every dirty trick one could do it. And you were so blatant about it.” He groaned.

Her lips tugged, “I’m known to go after what I like in the moment.” She swallowed.

“You’re shameless.” He spat the word like an insult. She clenched her jaw, “And it makes me furious that I can’t stop thinking about you.” There was a crack in his calm voice, it made her breath falter for a second.

“You aren’t the first." She scoffed, "You don’t have to be hard on yourself, I know what I’m doing. Your reaction is to be expected.” She tried to keep her voice level, not giving him the priviledge of seeing her own rage. Rage was an admittance of effect and she would not let him see his effect on her.

She gasped when his finger brushed up her thigh. “You don’t know anything about me." He mumbled, still maintaining the last few inches of distance. "I don’t play games, I don’t collect conquests.”

She laughed, her head falling back. He took a step closer, pushing her head to the side to brush his lips over her neck. “I know people, Doyoung. I especially know men. You want to believe you’re complex,” He bit down on the smooth skin, she moaned. “But lust is never complicated. It’s deceptively simple. You’re currently playing a game with me, one you want to win. You just don’t know it, which is your loss because you don’t have a prize in mind.” He licked the skin he just ruined, purring into her throat. He bit down the same place again, harder. She whimpered.

“I know my prize.” His nose brushed up her jaw, his breath heating her skin.

“I’m not a trophy to be acquired.” She took a step back, pressing into his chest.

Doyoung sighed, hand reaching around and tugging on her waist, “Who said I was talking about you?”

She clenched her jaw. “What is it you hope to win then?” His hand brushed up and grabbed her jaw, tilting her head back further.

“Let me show you.” His lips brushed against her cheeks. He gathered her dress in his hands, hitching it higher. “Lift your arms.” He whispered. When she did, he pulled the material off.

His fingers made quick work of the rest of her garments. Once she was completely bare, he turned her around. His smile was deceptively gentle, “Do you enjoy being a whore, (Y/N)?” He took a step back, looking her over with detached scrutiny.

“Very much so.” She stepped out of her underwear. When he looked up with a sharp gaze, it was her turn to give him a sweet smile.

“Will you enjoy being my whore?” He brushed his index finger on his lips. Soft, pretty lips that she made a note to destroy.

“That is to be seen.” She breathed out.

He smiled wide, pointing behind him. “Sit on that sheet.”

She gave him a skeptical look. When he added no further explanation, she did what she was told. She walked up to the large white cloth that lay flat on the floor, ready for whatever he had planned. She bent over, deliberately slow, and took her heels off. Walking over to the centre of the sheet and sitting down, bringing her knees up to her chest. She sat patiently.

“Such a pretty picture you make.” He hummed, walking over to a table littered with paint and brushes. He picked up a few bottles, coming up to stand in front of her. Her heart beat so fast with anticipation that she was certain it was echoing against the walls.

He kneeled in front of her, “Give me your palms.” His eyes stayed on her face, his voice still dispassionate. She lifted her hands and laid them out for him. When he looked down at them, she glanced at his features. Without his dark gaze, his face looked almost delicate. She felt thick liquid on her palm, looking down to see him squeeze blue and green paint on each palm.

He looked up when he finished, “Lust isn’t simple. It’s like being on fire one second and being drowned the next. Put your hands behind you and lean back.” She took in an unsteady breath, sitting back.

The paint squished between her palm when she pressed them on the sheet, coming out from between her fingers. He sat back, unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes didn’t leave hers the entire time.

“Which one of us will drown?” She breathed out, words mixed with soft pants.

He unbuckled his belt, smirking when she squeezed her legs. “That is to be seen.” He repeated her own words back, grabbing her knees to open her legs again. He stood up, pushing his jeans off. Once he did, he squeezed the green paint onto his knees. Her breathing was ragged now, bouncing off the walls and filling the space with the admittance of her eagerness.

He walked around to her back, leaning down. “Sit up.” His voice was lower, and to her victorious realisation, afflicted. When she did, his knees pressed into the small of her back, paint rubbing against her skin. She couldn’t explain why, but the rudimentary action made her moan. He brushed her hair up, tying it up on her head with a tie she didn’t know he had. Everything felt meticulously planned.

He squeezed more paint onto her spine, rubbing it around with precise fingers. He remained unnervingly silent, getting up and coming back around to face her again. “You’re so beautiful.” He gasped.

The words made her smirk, chest heaving with quick breaths. “I know.”

He smirked back, “I’m going to make you divine.” He put his knees on the sheet, the blue and green rubbing together. She stared at the traces, for a moment mesmerised by the mark it left.

She yelped when he grabbed her ankle and tugged her, her wet palms slipping. Her back landed on the sheet, her head stinging a little from the sudden contact. He parted her legs with his knee, she looked up to see him squeeze white paint into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, before using them to hover over her. “You’re going to display the very manifestation of your lust in museums all over the world, (Y/N). We’re going to commodify your sin. That’s my prize.” His hands slid across the sheet and grabbed her waist.

She reached up and grabbed his throat, the smooth white skin tainted blue and green. “It’s going to be our sin, Doyoung.” She dragged her eyes from his eyes to his lips.

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want familiarity.” His hands rubbed white paint up her sides, brushing under her breasts. Both their breathing matched in impatience.

She pulled him closer, resting her lips on his. “If you’re going to immortalise me, I will own you.” She promised. He smiled against her lips, kissing her.

_

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Push and Pull

[corruptedconfessions]

hey there! could i request a yandere dragon bakugou (hcs or scenario, ur choice!) where he comes back to his den to find his darling missing? he leaves to go look for her and finds her on her way back to the den with a bag in tow, full of shiny objects for his hoard. she went back to her home, perhaps it was a cabin of sorts where she was keeping the items should she need to sell them for money, (1/2)

abbut now that she’s with him she doesn’t exactly need them anymore and decides he would appreciate having it more? for the plot (and angst) maybe she got a little scratched up during the trek and is sporting a few cuts or bruises when he finds her. i absolutely love your writing, and if this is too much i totally understand, you can ignore it! hope you’re doing alright!!! (2/2) 

Thank you so much! And thank you for your patience im sorry this took me forever ToT

I did a little bit of both! I hope you dont mind. 

-When Bakugou comes back to the den from a hunt and finds you gone he is going to be p i s s e d

-He thought the two of you had finally gotten past this little game where you would run away and make him have to come chase you down, but clearly he hadn’t nailed it into that stupid brain of yours enough

-Don’t you know how dangerous it is out in those woods without him to protect you? A fragile little thing like you would get squashed in seconds without him there to protect you from everything...including youself in some cases

-Originally he is stewing as he abandons his kill to stalk out into the forest to find you, already thinking of punishments to unleash on you once he drags your ass back to the den, stewing about ways to make sure they stick this time

-All that melts away after about 10 minutes

-In the past he has always immediately been able to find you, your clumsy human foot steps or scent always immediately alerting him to where you went and where you are. Even when he plays with you and lets you run longer to get that energy out and show you how hopeless it really is to run for him he’s never had you out of his sight for more than 5 minutes during any escape attempt

-But this time you’re /gone/  you must have left near immediately after he had left you, curled up and sleeping peacefully in his nest, he couldn’t hear or smell you anywhere near by

-Throws this boy into a complete panic when he realizes that you could be anywhere you could be hurt or bleeding or dead for all he knew! 

-Normally he likes to hunt you down in his fully human or only partially shifted forms, to really show off and rub it in your face how he doesnt even need to be at his best to hunt your wimpy ass down

-This time though he is fully shifted in seconds, taking to the sky, scanning desperately for any sign of you

-It may take a little bit with how small you are in comparison to the forest but he will find you no matter what it takes. 

-When he finally spots you, stumbling through the forest with a dumb little bag that was clearly too heavy for your fragile little arms to be carrying by the way you kept stumbling around was any indication. 

-He immediately nosedives down towards you, a terrifying sight to see, even when you do know exactly who the dragon is and that he probably isnt trying to eat you

-He shifts in the arm, damn near toppling you over as he lands right next to you just to immediately scoop you up in his arms, clutching you like a life line as he immediately starts rubbing up against you

-He is not crying, damn it

-It only takes him a moment or two rubbing against you, covering you with his scent again before he realizes that you are scratched up and dirty, causing him to bristle in even more anger than he already had been in

-Immediately chews you out, lecturing you as he takes the bag from you, carrying both you and the bag back to his den, ranting and lecturing you the whole way, pretending like you both don’t notice how he is still shaking

-”What the fuck were you thinking, dumbass?! You could’ve gotten hurt! I don’t have time to look after your pathetic little human ass!” 

-He’ll turn bright red when you tell him whats in the bag and why you risked getting in trouble with him to go fetch it. Immediately your lecturing angry dragon boyfriend will be a blushing pouting mess as he takes you into his den

-”You should’ve told me...Idiot. I could’ve taken you.”

-He stares longingly at the bag as he sets it down, his instincts clearly calling for him to root through the bag and add the collection to his horde, to make sure to put his mates gifts in plain sight so everyone will see how much his mate cares for him, how perfect and beautiful his mate is

-His mate was so perfect she brought him more stuff for his horde, perfect stuff, and he was going to show that off

-He needed to return the favor for his mate, get them shiney things to cover their body in to show that he owns them, to show off that they had taken the first step in courting him and he had returned the favor they wanted him just as much as he wanted them 

-But he knows that his mate was injured in their travels and first and foremost he needed to take care of that

-He’s surprisingly tender as he scoops you up, tsking in annoyance at how filthy you were

-for someone who lives in the forest the man sure doesn’t like dirt, especially on you

-he’ll wrap you up tight in his arms and carry you to the nearby hotspring, demanding to clean you and take care of you instead of hovering annoyingly close like he usually does

-You better get use to it he is going to be clingy as hell for awhile, if not indefinitely now that you had taken the final step in courting him

-You had gone out of your way to court him in the dragon way (it doesn’t even cross his mind it was an accident and you didn’t know you were just being thoughtful) half of him wonders if he should wonder down to a human village and learn how to court you in the human way too, just to be fair

-Or he could just ask you. That would be less fun though. You surprised him it was only fair he showed he was just as good (if not better) of a mate as you were. 

“K-katsuki!” You flushed squirming on his lap as the dragon growled down at you, easily holding you still with one hand as the other slid down your calf, cleaning off the dirt and scowling at the scratches and bruises that littered that area. It had been a slow process, the dragon insisting on inspecting you from top to bottom, starting with your head and working his way down, scowling and grumbling as he spent extra time at each and every little scrape or bruise he discovered as if they had personally insulted him. “This is why you should never leave anywhere without me, stupid. You’re too fragile to wonder off on your own.” he growled and grumbled as he moved to the other leg, being remarkably gentle and careful with his grip and touch on your wounds as he washed that leg too. “I know...I just wanted to surprise you.” You pouted back down at him, biting down any argument over tiny cuts and being able to take care of yourself since you knew the dragon was still on very volatile ground. He may have chosen to forgive you thanks to your surprise gift but that could change at any moment if you made the wrong move. “Yeah well...” he huffed pouting slightly in response, grumbling to himself as he finally set down your leg his hand moving to rest back on your hips, lifting you up with ease, ignoring your flustered squealing as your bare form was lifted out of the water. “Quiet down.” he huffed rolling his eyes as he turned you around, grabbing your legs and forcing them around his torso as he pulled you close, hands sliding down to hold your ass as he held you up, pushing you against his chest as he relaxed in the hot water. “Honestly I’ll never understand you humans and your insistence at being covered. I know what you look like anyway.” He huffed softly leaning his head back against the rocks that lined the spring, tension relaxing from his body. He finally had you here tucked into his arms, safe and sound, and he could relax as hot water lapped away any knots and tension that still clung to his body.  

[worstloki]

[Helheim]

Hela: Hello brother, what brings you back

Loki, crying: He didn't tell me I'm adopted! or jotun!!

Hela: on the bright side, ur not related to the #&!%er

Loki, wiping away tears: i tried so hard to be wortHY

Hela: as a warmonger his standards are not the best

Loki sobbing: ODIN IS SUCH A ^&%#ing &*^#%&*#^!

Hela: Well, you're not wrong

---

Hela, filing her nails: back so soon?

Loki: I decided to kill off the main character in the book I'm writing because I thought it'd spice up my autobiography a little

Hela: you're writing something?

Loki: I call it 'the tragedy of loki' and its a comedic parody about what a ^&%*ing hypocrite Odin is

Hela: I like the sound of that. Save me a copy?

Loki: Of course, I may have been stabbed through the chest but I've retained my manners and it would be only fitting for you to be gifted the original transcript.

Hela: its a play?

Loki: Yes, and in case you were wondering, its going to be commissioned by Odin himself :)

Hela: ooOOoooh metatheatrical elements. I like.

---

Loki: YOU TOOK HIS EYE!!

Hela: I thought it would add some irony

Loki, laughing: AND you were right! You went a bit off-script but it was dramatic and in the end Asgard burnt down and that's all I really wanted so thank you for playing along! Thor actually ASKED me to burn everything!!

Hela: eh. its not like the place deserved to stick around. Odin was a &*%^ing ^&%*er who ^&%@ing deserved his imperialist society to crumble.

Loki, nodding sagely: we did a good thing AND got the prophecy fulfilled. All in all a win-win situation.

Hela: Except for whatever happened after for you to end up here dead again apparently

Loki: ah, about that... Thanos killed me

Hela: Oh. Right. Him. Give me a second to pack and I'll head back to the world of the living with you

Loki: You'll help?!

Hela: well I guess I cant let him waltz around increasing traffic flow in my domain...

Loki: yes that would truly be horrible

---

Thanos: I. am. inevitable.

Thanos: *is impaled on a GIANT sword that came out of the ground*

Hela: Right so now that that's done I guess I should apologise for taking Thor's eye

Loki: It would be funnier if you pretended you were still evil, especially since the midgardians already think of me as a villain...

Hela, laughing: sounds fun.

Loki: we'll get something to eat - maybe shawarma? - and you can stare menacingly at them as they pretend they're not scared of fighting us

Hela: Shawarma sounds good. *pulling the gauntlet off thanos* do you want to do it?

Loki, putting the gauntlet on and snapping: I bet they'll still think i'm pure evil and planning to betray them even after bringing back half the universe

[summonerscenarios]

Hope ur doing okay Juno! Could I get your choice of summoners & shinjuku teachers reaction hcs to Mc just up and disappearing without a trace and they just stumble onto Mc a week or two later beaten and bleeding trying to patch their very real, non app inflicted wounds (like requires stitches type wounds) and when Mc notices them they just light up with a big smile and go "Oh hey! :D I got kidnapped!". I doubt much would happen legally with Mc being a transient and all ^^

Heyya hun I’m doing better! ^^ Man with everything that’s happened to the MC we may as well add kidnapping to the list! If they’ve got a dangerous situations bucket list they’ve got one more thing to cross off asdfghjkl.

Had to limit this one to three or else I probably would’ve gotten carried away but I hope it’s okay! ^^

----

Toji

When news had first started to circle that you hadn’t been showing up to your lessons Toji’s immediate first thought was to wonder what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into now. It’s no secret that you have a penchant for running headfirst into danger, disappearing for a time without any warning , but you always find your way back one way or another, ever optimistic and often with a gaggle of new allies in tow. And it’s because of this that Toji doesn’t worry as much as he should, and makes a point to assure the other Summoners that you’ll be coming back soon, a statement that he finds himself regretting the next day. When he comes to your room and finds the place completely untouched is when he starts to doubt his surety; it’s clear you never made it back here the last time you two talked, and when night turns to day and you still haven’t returned is when the Summoner’s realize that you aren’t just lost - they need to find you.

While Shiro goes to inform the teachers Toji takes to the streets to look for answers, hoping for even a  sliver of information he can find about your whereabouts that will convince him that you’re fine. He finds himself delving back into the nooks and crannies of Tokyo, getting in touch with the few contacts he still has in the hopes to bear some fruit in the investigation and growing increasingly more tense as each of those leads turns up absolutely nothing. It’s almost like you’ve just disappeared, but Toji knows better, and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach only blooms further at the realization that it’s something more sinister.

At the end of each unsuccessful day Toji finds himself returning to your dorm room. That place has been essentially torn apart and rebuilt looking for clues but even so he comes back if only to remind himself why he’s trying so hard to look. There’s pieces of you here, signs of the life that you’ve lived at the school and the memories you’ve made - pictures, books, spare uniforms, games - they’re a reflection of who you are, and seeing them renews his determination to find you and bring you back so this place can continue to swell with memories. 

But one night is different. As Toji comes down the hall to check on your room a chill runs up his back when he sees the door cracked open, light filtering out into the dark of the hallway like a beacon. Immediately he’s on the offensive; no one else should be in there at this time of night (though Ryota did try to insist on a roster in case someone came back) and the possibility that the ones responsible for your disappearance has come back makes him cautious. He approaches silently one hand prepared to unsheathe his sword as the other comes to rest against the door, listening to the sounds of movement inside. One,two…

At the third count he shoves open the door and prepares himself for a fight, the demand for answers barely passing his lips at the sight before him. Back resting against the bed, covered in bruises and looking like an absolute mess is you, midway through using a piece of your shirt to cover the nasty gash dug into your thigh when you jolt at his sudden entrance. He expects you to scream, to cry or even get angry at him for scaring you, but instead your entire expression brightens up, a smile that would have been dazzling if it wasn’t for the bruises marring your cheek spreading across your face as you try to stand and greet him. Toji has to dart across the dorm room to catch you as you buckle, easing you back onto the floor as he comes to kneel by your side. He scolds you to stay still but really he’s just baffled; you’ve been gone for days without a trace only to appear back in your room looking like you took on all of Tokyo (which honestly he wouldn’t put it past you) and yet you’re still smiling as though nothing’s wrong. But even he can see you’re exhausted, exhausted but relieved that he’s here. 

He should go and notify the others, and goes to do so, but when you cling to his arm and beg him to stay with you at least until you finish patching up Toji relents, ordering you to try not to move too much as he takes over trying to fix you up. He’s been in situations like this before - he’s had to deal with his own wounds outside of the app in the past so he has an idea of what he’s doing, but with nothing but the torn remains of a shirt and water from the sink to clean and dress the wound Toji knows that this is only a temporary fix. 

You fill him in on what happened, about the kidnapping and the fights that led up to your escape and running until you were right back here. The way you tell the story is so nonchalant, even laughing about how you would have gotten here faster if it wasn’t for your leg as though it’s a funny story. He’s seen people cope in different ways but just hearing you attempting to make light of the situation makes his heart clench . Now that you were back the investigation would likely be called off - even with the kidnapping and injury the fact you were alive would be enough for the legal system to back off, convinced the situation has sorted itself out. But Toji knows that the others won’t back down so easily - Kengo will go on the warpath just to find the people responsible, Shiro will be filling every ally guild to get them on board with tracking them down, and Ryota will be getting in touch with just about every friend you’ve ever made since entering Tokyo to join the search and get you justice. And of course Toji will be right alongside them, but for now his focus is on you, biting his tongue as you continue to downplay your experience if only to keep you comfortable, and making plans for notifying the other Summoners as soon as you’re stable enough for him to bring them together.

Ryota

Ryota had started to worry when he realized that you hadn’t been with the other Summoner’s when school started. He’s been the last one to see you last night, the two of you walking back to his dorm room after the latest Summoner meeting and him seeing you off at the door. Sometimes you were late and that could very well have been what was happening this time, but Ryota still finds himself growing concerned when the day goes on and you still don’t show up. The nail in the coffin is when the night time curfew rolls around and Shiro comes back from your dorm room with a serious look on his face, letting the other Summoner’s know that you haven’t touched your room and it’s clear that you’d never made it back the night before.  

Immediately the worst case scenarios fill his head - where could you be? Surely you were okay! Maybe you just went to sleep over at a friend’s house and lost track of time - that happens all the time so of course that had to be it!...Right? Toji makes a remark that maybe you had ended up wrapped up in someone else’s problems again, something you were probably famous for at this point, but Shiro is firm that if you aren’t back by morning they’re going to have to assume you’ve gone missing. Sure enough once the next day rolls around and you’re not back everyone’s jumping into action - Shiro goes off to alert the faculty and the necessary adults, whilst Kengo and Toji take to Tokyo’s streets looking for any sign of you that they can find. Ryota starts with the people you guys know at school and starts branching out reaching out to others; Moritaka and Choji, the mountaineering club, Maria and the Missionaries - he gets into contact with as many as he can in the hopes that they can help find you and bring you back safe.

He’s relieved that so many people are pulling together to help but Ryota still can’t help but worry. You were so strong, but what happened if you’d been taken? You could be out there waiting for them to come and save you and they don’t even have an inkling to where you are. You must be so scared...no. Every time those thoughts creep in he shakes them away - you’d come back, you always did! They just have to keep looking until you do! And sure enough a week later you turn up! 

Right at his door.

When a knock came at his door he’d assumed that it was Shiro or Moritaka - the two of them had made a point of doing the rounds once every night to update them on the situation - but when he opens the door he finds someone else. You’re leaning against the door, trying to make it look casual even though you’re shaking and giving him a wave as you greet him like nothing’s wrong. Ryota’s shouts so loud it’s a miracle that no-one woke up at the sound and he doesn’t hesitate to hug you, holding you close just to make sure that you’re actually there; that you’re okay. When you let out a pained wheeze however a new wave of panic seeps in and suddenly he’s panicking all over again because that’s when he really gets a look at you. 

You’re hurt, really hurt. If this had been in a battle zone Ryota could use his sacred artifact to heal you up but this is real life, your wounds are real, and he can’t do anything about it. And yet you still seem so happy to see him, smiling and apologizing for making him worried. He begs you to at least sit down before you tell him anything about what happened, calling out into the hallways hoping that someone else hears him and comes to help and nearly paling when he notices the bloody hand print you left on the door frame when you went to sit down. The more that Ryota hears about what happened to you the more visibly horrified he becomes; the whole time everyone was trying to find you this is what you were going through? It’s almost as though you’re trying to reassure him by acting so nonchalant but he knows that this situation is serious. He’s glad you’re back now but this isn’t the end of it, and he’s not the only one who knows it when the other Summoner’s come barging through the door to find out what’s going on.

Mononobe

Mononobe would be at the forefront of the investigation since the alarm was first raised that you’d disappeared. When you fail to show up to your classes there’s initially talk about you skipping classes, leaving the school grounds to avoid getting caught by the teachers, but Mononobe knows that if you had gone anywhere you would have told at least one of your friends where you were going. This is only confirmed when Shiro approaches him at the end of the school day to confide in him that you still haven’t come back. Not only that but after checking your room it’s clear that you never made it back to your dorm room - everything is exactly as you left it before, and that is when the seriousness of the situation sinks in.

Word fortunately gets around fast; with how many friends you’ve made across Tokyo there’s more people reaching out to the school every day with an offer of help towards the investigation.  Mononobe, while hesitant at the influx of people getting involved (i mean fighters, missionaries and literal millionaires make for an odd combo of friends) he’s relieved that there’s so many people who want to get you back home safe and sound. If it had been any other transient student the investigation would likely have been left purely in the schools hands, and with each day that passes the situation weighs ever more heavier on him. Even locked away from the world Tokyo’s a big place - you could be anywhere and could maybe even disappear altogether if you really wanted to, but there’s a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this time wasn’t such a case.

It’s the week after you went missing that you show up. It was after school hours and after reminding the students to stick together when going home Mononobe was heading back to the staff room when he hears it. The sound of something toppling over and a curse makes him freeze in his tracks and he turns towards one of the classrooms. It’s empty, should be empty, but someone’s rummaging around inside and they’re not being quiet about it. At first it’s easy to assume that it’s a stray student - during the first day of the search for you, students were sneaking into the school grounds hoping to find some kind of clue to where you had gone. But this time was different.

When Mononobe opened the door and flicked on the light you were right there, sat on the teacher’s desk with a first aid kit open and scattered across your lap. You were in terrible shape, body beaten and bloody in a way that most people probably wouldn’t be standing, but your expression looked determined, fingers working sloppily to dress a wound that even across the room he can see needs more than a bandage. You were so focused you must not have heard him come in, but after a week of seeing hide nor hair of you your name comes from his lips in a quiet gasp before he can stop himself.

You immediately perk up, head snapping to meet his eyes as your entire body tenses up. However as soon as you recognize him you relax, shoulders dropping as your expression brightens up and you all but forget what you were doing. Mononobe doesn’t expect you to move but you hop off the desk sending supplies rolling across the roon and run right into his arms, gushing about how happy you are to see him again as though you weren’t even hurt, but up close the wounds are even more apparent. Most are surface level injuries but there’s a few that are in desperate need of medical attention, and it’s clear you’re in pain - if the pained hiss you try to hide when he returns the hug is anything to go by. He holds you for a little while, rubbing your back and reassuring you that it’s okay, you’re safe now, but you can tell that he wants answers.

Unsurprisingly you’re reluctant to let go so Mononobe gradually convinces you to back step until you’re back over to the desks, coaxing you to take a seat and making sure to let you know he’s not going anywhere as he starts picking up the first aid kit supplies that you’d dropped. It’s got the necessities to treat the immediate problems, namely the cuts and scrapes, but you’d be lucky if a hospital visit wasn’t in your future just to be on the safe side. Mononobe tries to keep you distracted from the discomfort by asking about what happened, and you don’t hesitate to fill him in on what’s happened while you’ve been gone. The moment the word kidnapped leaves your mouth you can see his expression turn serious, even though he shoots you a reassuring smile and tells you that it’s okay to keep going. With everything that had happened inside of the app you forget just how serious these kinds of situations were - you risked your life on a daily basis, so seeing the graveness in his expression when you talk about your escape makes you realize the gravity of the situation in real life. You can tell he’s trying to comfort you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze when he’s not applying gauze and even ruffles your hair when you ask him if everything’s okay - you have to admit after everything it’s comforting. This peace isn’t going to last for long - Mononobe’s going to have to let the appropriate authorities know and you’re sure that you’re going to be swarmed by your friends for the foreseeable future, not to mention your other enemies are going to take this slip up as their cue to jump in, and that’s what you’re dreading the most. So for now, for this moment, you’re gonna enjoy this while it lasts.

[givemequeen]

welcome back ; paul mcbeardy x reader

request: a wild concept for you to write 👀 reunion sex with mcbeardy like you two barely even say hi to each other because as soon as you walk trough the door his lips are on yours, and later you feel the beard tickling ur neck as he whispers sweet things in your ear and maybe you start whimpering and trembling cause its been a while since you have done it and its a bit overwhelming and he just whispers 'easy love, i got you, its been a while hasnt it?' while caressing your body and WOW MAN IM HORNY a/n: im lowkey happy with this? pairing: paul mcbeardy summary: reunion sex with McBeardy warnings: sex! LLL year: 1969? word count: 1009

The jingle of the keys could be heard throughout the house. You sat up in your bed and looked outside the bedroom’s door. It was him, he was back. You rushed downstairs taking two steps at a time and nearly falling down them. The door wasn’t even open yet but there you stood patiently waiting for it to open. Paul finally opened the door, he was looking down, probably tired from his trip.

When he saw your bare feet his head shot up to look at you. A smile quickly took over the frown that spoiled his soft-featured face. You smiled back and threw your arms around him. He caught you, stopping both of you from falling back. You buried your head in his neck, his bread tickling you. Paul took a step inside, his suit case by his side, and closed the door with his foot.

You pulled your head away and kissed him, your hands moving to cup his furry cheeks. Your fingers were deep in his beard as he kissed you back. You deepened the kiss rolling your body onto his, grinding softly onto his crotch. He chuckled and pushed you against the wall. You only pulled away for air, you both took the time to study each other’s faces, see what had changed during the time you spent apart.

“Yer so cute.” Paul murmured as he pushed your hair out of your face and kissed you roughly. His hand snaked up your (his) t-shirt and you heard him chuckle when he didn’t come across your bra. You melted in his arms as his hand cupped your breast. He massaged it and moved his mouth to that area. 

Paul ducked under your (his) t-shirt and sucked on your hard nipple. You laced your hands through his long hair and pulled on it. The vibration that came from his mouth made your knees weak but Paul had a firm grip on your hip that held you up. You whimpered at his touch and sweet words he whispered against your skin.

“Easy love, I got you.” he said kissing you softly. “It’s been a while, hasn't it?” he chuckled softly. You nodded and pulled him in for a kiss, your hand sneakily sliding down to his crotch. He bent forward at the feeling of your fingers around his hardening cock and his expression changed.

“Bedroom. Now.” he muttered pulling on your hand.

“Wait. Guest room.” you pulled him into the guest room and jumped onto the neatly-made bed. Paul smiled as he pulled the t-shirt he wore over his head. You watched as he shook his hair at of his face and wondered how you got to be with someone so stunningly beautiful.

He bit his lower lip and walked to you. You giggled, plopping your weight up onto your elbows to see him properly. Paul got onto the bed and pulled you closer to him by your hips. He slowly pulled your bottoms down and slipped off your underwear, planting a kiss on each centimetre he saw of your exposed skin. He started off with a kiss on the inside of your thigh and worked his way up. His beard making you tingle and wiggle under him.

Paul looked up to you, you had pulled a pillow under your head so you got a good view of him. He bit his plump, lower lip before pressing a kiss onto your core. You rolled your hips to get more pleasure. Paul gave in to your silent ‘please; and slipped his tongue inside of you. You continued moving your hips. He moved his mouth in sync to your movements.

Your breathing started getting quicker but you weren’t ready to cum yet. You wrapped your legs around his neck and pulled him closer. Your fingers went to his hair and you, with everything you had inside of yourself, pulled him away. Paul cocked an eyebrow and started at you, a puzzled look on his face.

“Inside of me.” you panted as you pulled your t-shirt over head. Paul grinned and nodded, his hands going to his belt buckle to undo it. You let your head fall back and listened to the rough fabric of his jeans drop onto the floor. He pulled his boxers off and hovered above you. Paul reached between you and rubbed his tip against your entrance.

His forearms were on either side of you holding his weight up. You looked up at him and admired the way his hair fell on either side of his face. His eyes were bright and happy, you hadn’t seen him this way in a long time. Paul leaned to kiss you and you giggled at the feeling of his facial hair. He chuckled as your giggles turned into moans.

A sigh came out from both of you when he bottomed out. He stretched you out something you missed, your hands went to his back as you clutched onto his shoulders. Paul started moving, nearly fully pulling out before slamming back in. You cried out his name, your nails digging onto his back leaving scratches across it.

His pace quickened and your moans got louder. Paul wasn’t shy either, he called out your name and told you how much he missed you. His mouth was soon attached to your neck. You wrapped your legs around his hips making him go deeper. “Fuck!” you yelled in unison at the new angle making you both laugh. He hung his head as he concentrated in making you both cum.

You came first, your walls clenching around him and whole body tensing up. Paul came a little while later filling you up to the brim and when he slipped out her closed your legs to make sure nothing would come out.

“Fucking hell yn, I missed ya.” he said reaching to kiss you. Paul rested his head on top of your chest and you took his opportunity to ran your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you too Paulie.” you replied, smiling as he purred.

tag list;

@thebeatleswritings  @beatlevmania  @i-love-queen-3000  @brians-metaphor26 @honimello  @julessworldd @storiesfrommirkwood  @beatles-babee  @geostarr  @thiccjelly17 @crab-king-69  @in-the-frap-of-the-gods

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (9) (Branjie/Scyvie) - Ortega

a/n: it’s BA-ACK! hope u guys enjoy this chapter, and as always pls send me love to my blog/to this blog because i love attention xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: supermarket chaos, and Brooke found out about the Branjie sweepstake. she didn’t take it well.

this chapter: Brooke and Vanessa talk things out, and there’s apologies to be said.

***

It had started to rain. Brooke was beginning to regret her choice of jacket- a leather one without a hood- but she had been going to wash her hair that evening anyway, and she supposed that was the least of her worries at the moment. As the rain began to batter down, Brooke realised that half the reason why her face was wet was because she was crying. It didn’t make any sense for that to be the case- Brooke was angry, fucking fuming to be specific, but she wasn’t necessarily sad. Perhaps embarrassed was the correct word, she thought, as she swiped at her face with her sleeve. The thought of her entire friendship group having a good laugh at her and Vanessa’s expense made her cheeks burn and the blood in her veins do the same.

Brooke didn’t really know where she was walking to, but she knew where she was walking from, and she was damned if she was going back to the flat anytime soon. Sniffing harshly, she removed her phone from her pocket and called Vanessa, the other girl picking up in about one and a half rings.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby,” Vanessa’s voice was defeated. Brooke decided it was the worst thing she’d ever heard in her entire life.

“Sorry for phoning. I just had to talk to you after all that shit on the group chat, I mean…how could they fucking do that, Ness, our own fucking friends? I just-”

“I’m fuckin’ raging at them, Brooke, honestly. I went out for shopping then I got those messages through and I’ve not been able to concentrate since. I’ve just been pacin’ and pacin’ around Sainsbury’s like a fuckin’ bear in a zoo. Look, where are you just now?”

“Um,” Brooke began, scanning her surroundings. She’d been walking so fast that she’d barely been taking them in. “In the middle of the park. I’m about five minutes from Sainsbury’s, actually.”

“I’ll meet you halfway, okay? See you soon.“

With that, Vanessa abruptly hung up. Brooke took it more as a comment on her friends and not herself. As she began walking with some purpose at last, Brooke found herself wondering what she was actually going to say to Vanessa when they saw each other. Rant, probably. But there was something that instantly calmed Brooke down knowing she would be seeing Vanessa soon and get to hold her, having her reassure her and placate her.

It ended up being about three-quarters due to Vanessa’s shorter legs rendering her slower and Brooke’s long ones ensuring she took big strides. Brooke saw her coming towards her from a distance just at the park’s edge and as they both reached out for a hug, they crashed into each other with a force that accurately conveyed both their anger and just how much they seemed to have missed each other in the 24 hour period they’d been apart.

“Fuck them,” Vanessa muttered into Brooke’s jacket. She was wearing her massive parka, the one with the fluffy pink hood. To Brooke, it made her all the more cuddly. She gave her a squeeze around her middle and tilted her chin up to press a quick kiss to her lips, coming back again for a second, then a third.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Brooke decided, slipping her arm through Vanessa’s and instantly feeling about 80% calmer. “There’s that new bar that opened up round the corner. Could try there?”

They walked towards it wordlessly, a journey that only took about three minutes but in that time hundreds of unsavoury thoughts had begun to swirl around in Brooke’s head like floating bits of food waste down a plughole. She waited until they had found a booth through the back in relative quiet and until Vanessa had shrugged her damp jacket off before she let rip.

“I just can’t fucking believe it, Ness. Like, I know we kept stuff from everyone but a fucking sweepstake. Jesus Christ. The thought of everyone sitting and putting bets and watching our every move…like how long has it been going on for?! How long have we just been like performing monkeys to them?! I mean Christ, we only just found out we liked each other less than a month ago!” Brooke hissed, Vanessa sitting and nodding rapidly in affirmation as she spoke.

“I’m just hurt,” she sighed heavily, breaking Brooke’s heart in the process. “I mean I don’t know why I didn’t tell Silk and Kiki, but I just…didn’t. Everything was so new and weird between us. Hell, I guess it still is."

Brooke smiled back at Vanessa across the table, who was shooting a shy one her way. "I guess that was why I never told Yvie and Nina either. I didn’t want them making fun of us. Guess that turned out well."

Vanessa gave a quick laugh that lit up Brooke’s insides. She fumbled around in her jacket pocket for her purse. "What do you want to drink? I’ll get them in."

Too exhausted to argue over who was paying, Brooke conceded. "Gin and lemonade.”

Vanessa gave a wordless nod as she strutted up to the bar. Self-conscious of being left on her own, Brooke took out her phone and flipped it over in her hands. There weren’t any new messages to the chat- it was likely that the girls were using whatever one they had for the sweepstake to talk about what had happened in private- but Brooke had a string of missed calls from Yvie and Nina, and a few from Scarlet. There was a sole voicemail from Nina, which Brooke listened to.

“Brooke, hey, it’s me. Call me when you get this, or Yvie, or any of us really. We’re all really sorry and we’re worried about you.”

At that moment, Brooke could hear Yvie’s voice in the background, panicked and harsh, yelling at Nina about how nobody left voicemails in this day and fucking age and how Brooke was unlikely to even listen to it.

“Uh, yeah, so to sum up- we’re sorry, we love you, call us. Bye.”

Brooke couldn’t help but quirk a smile at that. She loved Nina so much, the girl was so kind-hearted and loving and caring. Which was why it made her betrayal all the more hurtful and so damn fucking confusing. Why would Nina do something like that to Brooke? Unless of course, Nina didn’t see it that way at all. Unless she really genuinely thought Brooke and Vanessa would have found it funny.

Brooke was deep in thought as Vanessa returned with one gin and lemonade, one pink gin and lemonade, and a packet of salt and vinegar kettle chips.

“Fifteen forty-five for all of that. You better buy me some diamonds or some shit and then we’re even,” she quipped, raising her eyebrows as she sat down opposite Brooke. She smiled indulgently at her.

“Can I ask you something?” Brooke began hesitantly, her mind still working overtime. “If I had wanted to set up a sweepstake about like…Scarlet and Yvie. Or Nina and Monet. Would you have gone along with it?”

Vanessa shrugged and sipped her drink. “Yeah, because that shit’s funny. And cute, because it’s them. It’s different with us. We ain’t…you know. We ain’t like them.”

Brooke frowned a little and tried not to dwell on Vanessa’s justification, focusing more on her current train of thought. “But maybe that’s what the others thought when they made that sweepstake for us. Maybe they genuinely thought it was funny."

Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "Nina thinks that Michael MacIntyre is a funny comedian, it don’t make her correct.”

Brooke pulled a face and sipped her own drink. She’d been so angry and quick to judge, but now that she was with Vanessa and she’d had time to calm down, maybe the others were right. Maybe they’d both gone about this whole thing in the wrong way. Brooke hadn’t realised she’d been staring into space until she heard Vanessa drum on the table with her nails.

“So, uh,” she bit her lip and smiled up at Brooke. “You like me, huh?”

Brooke’s blood suddenly turned to ice. “What?”

Vanessa had gone a little bit red. It was out of character for her, and it made Brooke blush as well. “Earlier. You basically said you liked me.”

Brooke felt her speech catch in her throat. “Well I meant…we had that conversation in Liezen-”

“About how we liked kissing each other, yeah. And then we had a conversation about how we liked fuckin’ each other. But we’ve never had a conversation about actually liking each other. You were the one that said that,” Vanessa finished Brooke’s sentence mischievously. Brooke suddenly found herself wishing she was directly above a trapdoor that would plummet her into the Earth’s core and burn her to a crisp. She simply stared at Vanessa with her mouth open slightly, wondering what the correct thing to say was. Vanessa only laughed in response, growing more red as she spoke again. “So you like me?"

Brooke forced herself to look at the table top. If she looked at Vanessa she’d die. This was the moment she’d been waiting basically her entire university career for, the speech she’d been rehearsing for about three years, so why couldn’t she physically speak? She took a sip of her drink and grew a set of balls and locked eyes with Vanessa. "Yeah, I do.”

Vanessa’s face broke out into an uncontrollable smile as she tipped her head back to the ceiling, and Brooke found her heart going into cardiac arrest. “Do you, uh. Do you…feel…the same about me?"

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke wondering how what felt like her life hanging in the balance could be so funny to her. "Take a fuckin’ guess.”

Brooke spluttered an awkward, nervous laugh. It seemed like a yes? She felt like Vanessa wouldn’t have taken things as far as they’d gone if it wasn’t. “Yes?”

Vanessa tucked her hair behind her ears, tried to suppress her smile, and failed. In a quiet voice, she confirmed. “Fuck, Brooke…I’m crazy about you”

Brooke felt her heart explode and her eyes transform into love hearts and all of her insides get churned around like a cement mixer. She laughed and reached for Vanessa’s hand across the table. “Jesus. Well. Good. Okay. I really want to kiss you.”

Vanessa rapidly bounced into the seat beside Brooke like an excitable bunny and met her lips with her own. They kissed hard and passionately, and Vanessa had her hands tangled in Brooke’s damp hair and fuck, Brooke would need to pull away before things escalated and they were barred from the pub for doing something indecent. So Brooke pulled back, Vanessa tilting her head up needily, pouting and letting out a small whine.

“Whining,” Brooke simply said, a warning tone to her voice which made Vanessa’s pout get bigger and her eyes flash a little with lust. It shot Brooke back to when Vanessa was writhing underneath her with her face buried in the pillow and her hips squirming and bucking, as Brooke made her beg for what she wanted and the other girl kept up a litany of moans and whines and sighs. Fuck, no wonder Yvie and Nina had called bullshit when Brooke had denied everything. “Bratty behaviour.”

“Yeah well, I like getting my way,” Vanessa shrugged, smiling deliciously and flicking her eyes down to Brooke’s lips. Lowering her voice, she whispered. “And I’m touching myself under the table.”

Brooke almost choked. Rapidly, she craned her neck to find Vanessa’s hands sat against the leather covers of the seat, absolutely nowhere near her crotch. As Brooke sighed in relief and only about 60% disappointment, Vanessa howled a laugh. “Oh my God! Bitch! You are so fucking easy to wind up! It’s too fucking easy!”

“You’re too fucking easy, you big slut,” Brooke deadpanned, pushing Vanessa’s shoulder and letting out a laugh in spite of herself. Sighing, she picked at the crisps. “Speaking of big sluts. Our friends.”

“Yes.”

Brooke exhaled. “You know, now that I actually know you like me, the sweepstake does seem kind of funny.”

Vanessa smiled guiltily. “Yeah. Kinda does.”

Brooke frowned. “I mean they’re still absolute dicks for doing it in the first place, but our friends are dicks. What’s new.”

“True. I’m still mad at them though.”

“Ness. We didn’t tell them a single thing about what’s happening between us. The least they’re going to do is speculate. We did kind of make our beds a little bit here,” Brooke sighed, taking another handful of crisps. Vanessa exhaled and rolled her eyes.

“Can we at least make them feel real shit about it?”

“Yes. Although I don’t know if you’ll succeed with Silky.”

“That bitch could bomb half the Southern hemisphere and she’d still maintain it was the funniest joke she’d ever played,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, Brooke snorting a laugh beside her. As they both grew quiet, Brooke found herself laying a protective arm over Vanessa’s shoulders.

“Hey. You okay?”

Vanessa looked up at her, her dark eyes and blown pupils making them seem so huge and deep, and Brooke knew they weren’t girlfriends yet but she felt so lucky to even be with her, beside her, knowing that she liked her and Vanessa liked her back. That was enough for now.

“I’m good. I just don’t want to go back to the flat. It’s gonna be awkward,” Vanessa pouted, Brooke pulling a face as she agreed.

“It will. But you’ll be fine. You’ll all talk it out and we’ll all go back to normal. That’s all I want to do at the moment.“

"You want to…oh,” Vanessa’s face looked downcast, and Brooke instantly registered that she’d got the wrong end of the stick.

“No, no, no, not with us! I’m happy for us to still be doing…all this,” Brooke gave Vanessa’s shoulder a squeeze and the other girl relaxed. “This is good. I like it. It’s like an upgraded version of friendship.”

“Right,” Vanessa smiled cheekily, Brooke now able to fully relax.

They finished up their drinks and the rest of the crisps and made their way outside, where it had stopped raining and was now just replaced with cold dampness, puddles on the pavement shining despite the clouds. Brooke’s arm had moved to rest around Vanessa’s waist at her hip, and she didn’t really want to let go. Knowing they were about to leave each other, Vanessa turned and kissed Brooke gently, something almost fragile to it as if she was afraid she’d fracture or break.

Unable to believe it, Brooke asked Vanessa to confirm. “So, uh. You actually like me?”

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke feeling as if she was blushing all the way up to her scalp. “Of course I do, you fuckin’ idiot.”

Brooke couldn’t help the dumb smile that spread across her face. The novelty of knowing that would never wear off.

They squeezed each other a goodbye, and Brooke started back to her flat. She suddenly felt the trepidation overtake her, wondering what would happen when she arrived back. Would Yvie be furious at her? She seemed pretty apologetic when Brooke had been shouting at her. Fuck, why did she shout at her? Yvie was her best friend, for fuck’s sake, and things had already been so fragile between them. She’d wanted to make amends, Brooke had known that, and then she’d overreacted and ruined it all. Brooke felt the tears sting at her eyes as she quickened her pace. What if Nina hated her now too? Kind, sweet Nina who had never done anything malicious to anyone in her life. Scarlet had been at the flat too. She probably thought Brooke was a complete and utter dick for the way she’d acted. Jesus Christ, everyone probably hated her. What was the point of going home? Everyone was talking about her on that separate group chat, probably wondering how they could avoid her for the rest of the year. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

By the time Brooke got home and climbed the numerous stairs up to her flat she was hyperventilating so badly that her chest felt tight and constricted, as if a snake had wrapped itself around her ribcage. She immediately stumbled through to the kitchen, filled up the nearest glass (she didn’t care if it was clean or dirty), reached up to her shelf on the cupboard and ripped into the little packet of beta blockers she kept there. She took one every morning but sometimes life called for two per day, even though the packet urged her not to and her anxiety often spiked after the second one anyway as she panicked and worried about heart failure.

Brooke took deep breaths and steadied herself against the kitchen counter. The small living room was empty and Brooke knew exactly where Yvie and Nina would be. She wondered if Scarlet was still here, embarrassment overtaking her and threatening to ruin the tiny, fragile, tissue-paper level of calm she’d managed to return herself to. She took two more deep breaths, pressing her feet deeply into the soles of her shoes and trying to ground herself as much as she could. She had to face the girls at some stage. They were her flatmates, for fuck’s sake.

So Brooke tentatively slipped off her trainers, still absolutely soaked from the rain and the various puddles she’d stepped in on the way home. She knocked on Yvie’s door and waited for the shouts of “come in”- two, not three, she noted. Opening the door, she saw Yvie and Nina tucked up in Yvie’s bed together, both on their phones. They put them down as Brooke came in and smiled- Nina’s was warm and Yvie’s more nervous.

“Hey,” Yvie was the first to speak, Nina opening her arms and Brooke feeling herself flopping down on top of the duvet in the small space between her two flatmates.

“ ’M sorry,” she muttered, the proud side of her hoping that the duvet would conceal most of her apology. Brooke heard Nina tut and felt a body lean over to hug her.

“No, baby, we’re sorry. We’ve been shit friends and shouldn’t have put that pressure on you and Vanessa to do anything. We thought it was just a joke, but it’s your damn potential relationship. We should have thought,” Nina sighed, Brooke immediately consumed with guilt at having ever been angry with her friends.

“I mean, you did still behave like an asshole,” Brooke heard Yvie’s voice, causing her to let out a laugh. Funny cuz it’s true. “But so did we. And we’re sorry.”

Brooke sat up on her elbows and finally faced her friends, her best fucking friends in the world. She realised she was crying again and got annoyed at herself. “Stupid fucking tears.”

“Tears are valid! Crying is valid! Don’t you dare bottle shit up!” Nina chastised her, coming across as more of a mum than ever. Brooke let out a half-sob, half-laugh.

“I should’ve let you guys in, I should’ve talked to you about it. About everything. Maybe you would’ve helped me make sense of the fucking mincemeat that Vanessa’s turned my brain into. I’m so sorry,” Brooke sighed, Yvie opening her arms for a cuddle which she accepted gratefully.

“We’re sorry. You’re sorry. We’re all sorry. Let’s be friends again, bitch, I hate falling out with you,” Yvie pleaded, Brooke squeezing her tight and feeling a soft weight against her as Nina joined in the hug.

“I love you guys so much,” Brooke whispered, Nina and Yvie returning the sentiment and Brooke finally feeling as if something in her life was settled. They stayed cuddled up as Brooke frowned.

“Where’s Scarlet?”

“Went home. She thought we’d need some flat time when you got back.”

“Fuck, Yvie-”

“If you apologise again I’m going to smack you. We’re fine. I also have a fuckton of bolognaise that can’t all fit into the freezer so if you’re really sorry you’ll eat it all,” Yvie deadpanned, then noticed the look of acceptance on Brooke’s face. “Brooke it’s a fucking joke, right, it’s a fucking joke, please don’t gorge yourself on bolognaise trying to prove something.”

Brooke felt a small bubble of laughter escape her mouth, and Nina began chuckling beside her until all three of the friends were laughing in a heap on Yvie’s bed.

“I feel like I’ve missed so much. How is Scarlet? How are you two going?” Brooke asked, staring up at Yvie’s ceiling.

“We’re good. She’s…amazing. She’s funny and dorky and cute and a complete dumbass whilst simultaneously being the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. She’s a fucking kinky bitch though, complete definition of a dark horse,” Yvie let out a small laugh, Nina gasping theatrically.

“Oh my Christ! A match made in heaven if ever there was one.”

“Excuse me, Miss, don’t think you get off easy,” Brooke sat up on her elbow and turned to her. “You and Monet? What’s that all about, you actually got your shit together and told her that you like her?”

“Not exactly,” Nina began to explain, her face already strawberry-red as she spoke about her crush (or maybe girlfriend. Fuck, Brooke had missed a lot). “She took the lead on everything. Told me she’d liked me since we started taking the same modules together this year. Told me I was the most beautiful girl she’d ever met. Basically filling my head with lies.”

“Shut up, you insecure son of a bitch, and accept the love,” Yvie thumped her, Nina giving an exaggerated cry.

“We went for a date the other day. It was so nice, Brooke, she’s a total sweetheart. I can’t believe she actually likes me, of all people,” Nina’s voice grew small, and Brooke felt guilt stab at her stomach. Nina hadn’t had any relationships for as long as Brooke had known her, so of course as she was about to enter into a potential one she’d be doubting herself and wondering and worrying too much. Brooke needed to be there for her.

“Of course she likes you. You’re legitimately the best person I know,” Brooke pouted. “Yvie’s right. Don’t you dare overthink this, bitch. Monet likes you, it’s that simple.”

Nina raised her eyebrows and fixed Brooke with a look of disbelief. “Brooke Lynn Hytes is telling me not to overthink things? Jesus, someone call Trevor McDonald. I want to put this on the News at 10.”

As the girls laughed and Brooke rolled her eyes, Yvie’s phone began to ring. Brooke and Nina listened with interest as she answered, the smile that appeared when she saw who was calling dictating it could only be Scarlet.

“Hey, boo…no, she’s back now…about ten minutes ago. Okay,” a laugh and then Yvie’s face grew red. “Okay…okay, I’ll see you. Okay. Lov- Okay. Bye!”

Brooke and Nina exchanged a look. Brooke knew what she’d heard. Or, almost heard. Nina spoke before her.

“Was that an, um…an L-word that almost got dropped there, Yvelynn Oddly?” she said schemingly, Yvie’s face suddenly appearing as pink as if she’d been smacked.

“What? No? You guys,” Yvie muttered, rolling her eyes and throwing her phone down on the bed. Brooke raised an eyebrow at her.

“Excuse me, I just learned my lesson here. Share shit with your friends. Come on, spill the fucking beans or we’ll start a sweepstake about you.”

“It’s honestly nothing.”

“We want to hear anything! However mediocre,” Nina cried, sitting bolt upright excitedly. Yvie rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll spill the mediocrity and beans,” she sighed, shrugging and pausing before she spoke. “You guys know I love you, because I tell you all the time. I tell all my friends all the time. And I used to tell Scarlet all the time too but now, of course…it means a hell of a lot more.”

“Oh, babe,” Brooke sighed sympathetically. It had never occurred to her before, but she used to do the same with Vanessa, and Vanessa used to tell her all the time too. It was one of the things that used to stab at her heart, a small twist of a knife in her stomach. Since Yvie’s birthday, neither of them had said it to the other. Brooke missed it.

“I keep going to say it when I usually would…at the end of phonecalls…when we say goodbye to each other…when she does something nice for me. And I know all of our other areas of the whole relationship are going fast, like we were already girlfriends and I barely even took her on a date. I’m just cautious, but even though I’m trying hard not to say it, it still threatens to come out at times.”

“There’s a difference between being in love with someone and just loving them,” Nina chimed in thoughtfully.

“No, I know,” Yvie reassured her. “But at the same time, I don’t know what the fuck it feels like to be in love with someone either! It’s never happened to me before. So how the fuck am I supposed to know? Shit, I could be in love with Scarlet and I might not even know.”

Brooke bit her lip, completely understanding where Yvie was coming from. She cast a glance to Nina and felt her stomach tighten. Out of the three of them, none were particularly well-versed in relationships. Yvie had seen a couple of girls over the years and was the queen of one night stands, but nothing had ever come of them. Brooke had dated a couple of guys back in her first year back when she still thought she was bi and then had realised she was 100% lesbian when she’d taken her first girl back from the gay club in town, then after that she’d spent most of her time pining over Vanjie. And Nina was Nina. The girl would have to be waterboarded before she actively made a move on someone. She let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Nina asked, already smiling. Brooke’s laugh got louder and she let out a faux-scream.

“Bitch! Look at us. We’ve all finally got the girls we like to like us back and none of us knows what the fuck to do about it!”

Yvie and Nina joined in with her laughter, soon growing hysterical as the girls screeched beside her. They were soon interrupted by all three of their phones going off at the same time.

“Vanjie’s been reinstated. Shit, I need to change her nickname,” Yvie smiled, pouncing on her phone. Smiling, Brooke checked her phone.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline added Vanessa Vanjie Mateo.

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Alright hoes

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Two things

Yvie Oddly set the nickname for Vanessa Vanjie Mateo to Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie.

Okay Then: (shrek voice) OH HELLO THERE

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who’s down for film night at ours tonight

Kim Kardashian-West: ALL OF US!!!

Yvie’s bitch: MEEEEE xxxxxxxxxxxx

Okay Then: Okay then

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Second thing

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who had Yvie’s birthday in the sweepstake

“Bitch!! Knew it!!” Yvie laughed, thumping Brooke on the arm, the other girl laughing good-humouredly. She shot a message off to Vanessa.

Brooke: Things went well with Silk and Akeria then? xxx

Vanessa: Silk actually apologised wtf

Vanessa: but yeah they were cute and it went well xxx

Brooke: Good. I’ll come over with the girls later xxx

Vanessa: Staying over?

Brooke’s heart gave a jump.

Brooke: Yes! If you want me to

Vanessa: Always want you to boo xxx

Brooke turned her phone over and listened to Yvie, now stressed and talking about their upcoming exams. In contrast, Brooke hadn’t felt this calm in a long while.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 45 - 41

45.  Rasmussen - “Higher ground” Denmark 2018

[2018 Review here]

FRIZ DEE YERRO, WINDY YERRRRR

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Remember when Christer rejected “Higher ground” from Melfest and it was the fucking WORST Melfest ever? Remember how Denmark recycled it and let it win DMGP? Well...

OOOOOOOOOOOOOWNED SO HARD!! and not just Sweden to be honest, because “Higher ground” slaps, even a full year after the fact. It’s a paragon of righteous scandi energy, conceived in a mancave over a keg of mead, inspired by a tale of medival pacifism (which actually makes it non-toxicly masculine), imprinted on by Game of Thrones (a wonderful tv series that ended when the White Walkers melted down the ice wall and murdered everybody in Westeros ^__^)

In a nutshell, an absolutely kick ass entry.

Truth be told, it is IMPOSSIBLE to not get up from my chair, pound my chest and march along with the Old Norse (😍) post-chorus chanting. Rasmussen DELIVERS a performance so intense it rips the space/time continuum and creates a portal to the good old Viking days. 100% deserving of being 2018′s KEiiNO and the highest Danish entry on this ranking!

________________________________________________________________

44. Pasha Parfeny - “Lăutar” Moldova 2012

THIS DRAMPET MAKES U MIME GIRL

Pasha Parfeny looks like this now:

😬 

Years of being awesome clearly took their toll on poor Pasha, but I will cherish him for the fountain of fun he has always been.  “Lăutar”  is such an uninhibited display for Moldovan FOLK, bringing out the dulcimers, horns and “drampets” to bring a much-needed ethic palate cleanser after the musical genocide committed on the Baku Stage. It also features some of the best dance choreography found in this decade, in which Pasha and dancers hop around the stage like overexcited gerbils <3

(btw: the pink dancer SLAYS me every single time.)

Such a frivolous, playful, adorable act that radiates mirth from every pore. 😍 But wait, we aren’t done, because “ Lăutar” also features some of the more memorable, hilarious, iconic butcherings of the English language found in this decade (”You haven’t seen before the looks like drampet. 😍 Butter sound go straight to ur soul”😍). It certainly helps that Pasha is like a male Ruslana, struggling to express himself and resulting some hilarious awkward interview gold (Eurovision.tv: “Pasha, what is your secret for happiness” Pasha: “Make good sex ^__^”  Eurovision.tv: “. . .” 😍)

Naturally, a Pasha write-up cannot be finished without noting how central he is to ‘Moldova in Eurovision’, almost as much as Moldova’s staging is. This little man’s (literally. He’s like 1.65m lol) musical legacy includes:

- writing and performing Lăutar in 2012 - being a former vocalist for Sunstroke Project - being the mentor of Aliona Moon and writing her 2013 song - being the original songwriter for DoReDoS before Kirkorov took over   In other words, he is ~CONNECTED~ to every epic, high-tier Moldovan entry. WHAT AN ICON. Stay Safe Pavel!!

_______________________________________________________________

43. Dino Merlin - “Love in rewind” Bosnia - Herzegovina 2011

Finishing 6th place from the death slot when will ur faves...x Man I do love my narrative entries, and it doesn’t get much better than an old man reflecting back on his life’s had, satisfied with its outcome. It’s such a c00t premise and Dino Merlin plays the part of the adorable grandfather with conviction. 😍 Even manages to transform Maja Sar into a fun hume for once:

“Love in rewind” really is all about the group effort. Dino himself is of course fantastic and makes this performance, but his troupe of ragtag troubadours carry a lot of weight as well, providing a wackadoodle wonderland for Dino to project his nostalgia onto.  

And then there’s the question of “Love in rewind” itself. It is easy to lump it in with all the other frivolous folk, but in reality it’s an experimental avant garde song disguised as folk 😈 (exactly like “Putnici”, in fact!). The song is made into an artform by a few unorthodox, sudden key changes. Key changes hated by the millennial wannabe pitchfork crew, but here at BorisBubbles we don’t support weakness so let’s wave them all goodbye in celebration of what is easily Bosnia’s best Eurovision entry:

 _______________________________________________________________

42. JOWST ft. Aleksander Wallman - “Grab the moment”  Norway 2017

[2017 Review here]

As a shameless EDM Hound, I have to admit that I am totally smitten by this piece of electronic undergroundness. A wonderful epileptic seizure of pitch black and lavender, executed to perfection by Aleksander Wallman. “Grab the moment” offers show-stopping visual effects, great vocal execution and an additctive beat. THE TRIPLE THREAT OF LIVE MUSIC!

Fortunately, there’s also a great underlying message. I haven’t really talked about the Mental Health Anthem all that much in this ranking, but that’s mostly because I haven’t ranked most of them yet. Any song that inspires people to believe in themselves, that it is okay to be imperfect and that tackles social issues such as procrastination and neurosis HEAD ON and WITH RESPECT, deserves praise.

Which is exactly what JOWST & Aleksander do, specifically by addressing young heterosexual men. 😍 (ie: the demograph that is the least likely to reach out for a support when they need it). They do this very cleverly, by using teenspeak to discuss the ever-relatable theme crippling anxiety and how to lay it aside and get shit done. 🤜🤛 so let us all 

KILL k177 K!££

~ThEvOiCeInMyHeAd~

________________________________________________________________

41.  Ruth Lorenzo - “Dancing in the Rain Spain 2014

THE RAIIIIIN THE RAIIIIN THE RAIIIIIN

Ruth. Yo quiero ser Ruth. Because Ruth is emblematic of Spain’s biggest (only) strength in Eurovision: the LOUD OVERDRAMATIC SCREECHING POWERBALLAD 😍 There are so many precedents to Ruth, from “Él” to “Vuelve Conmigo” to “Bailar pegados” to “Quedate conmigo” but “Dancing in the rain” may be my favourite of the lot. In part because Ruth is a GODDESS and I was *invested* in her success the second she won the NF:

Which she then followed up by forming a backstage bitch coven with Conchita and Suzy. 😍 Excuse me for a moment, I have to lay myself down and blow myself with a fan because that alliance contains so much awesomeness it gives me palpitations. 

But I mostly love “Dancing in the rain” because of the performance. It’s a great composition in its own right, providing intense screaminess, well-executed language changes and of course, literal stage rain. 😍 However, Ruth is SO intense in her delivery it becomes a moment of contemplation, of exaltation, and of stupefication as Ruth’s SONIC ENERGY washes over us like a tsunami of sound. DEJA CAER, DEJA LA LLUVIA CAER, THE RAIN THE RAIN THE RAIN

________________________________________________________________

and since this is the last update for Spain, Bosnia, Moldova and Denmark, I’ll include my overall thoughts below. 

DENMARK

The only people who like Denmark in this decade are those with negative taste and no self-respect and those desperately wanting to be Swedes but never will be Swedes (ie: Danes)

MOLDOVA

Not a ‘perfect’ track record, but still an excellent showing for a country with so few resources. Moldova is one of my favourite countries in ESC and this chart should show you why. 

BOSNIA - HERZEGOVINA

Bosnia - Herzegovina participated four times in this decade and were epic exactly once. Thank you for that... now I normally would add that I miss them but, nah. Bye. 

SPAIN

I am honestly shocked Spain didn’t do worse on my ranking?? I don’t think they’re like.. a ‘TERRIBLE’ esc country the way Ireland and Montenegro are, but jesus fuck out of the cavalcade of incompetent countries that have no idea what the fuck they’re doing, Spain is the giantslewofincompetentcountriesthathavenoideawhatthefuckthey’redoingest. Which is puzzling given that all of their high results come from kickass female-fronted powerballads, ie: the easiest trope to nail. (case in point: Macedonia scored a top 10 with one. Macedonia.) JUST STICK TO THOSE and ditch the wannabe reggaetons. 

[harrybridgers]

hi lysha, this might be a random question but i was reading i could dream all night (again

hiii honey!! firstly thank u sm!! secondly, good question. i think its hard to say whether i find it ‘easier’ to write as either harry or louis, just based on the context of what their character is like/what surrounds them in the fic!! for example, in most cases i feel connected to harry the most because i think we’re most alike, so when he’s the POV character, i guess i can sometimes find things coming to me a little easier - but having said that, that also doesn’t mean writing as harry comes without challenges!! shelter as we go took me nearly a year to write, and that fic was with harry as the pov character and simply just challenging because of how emotionally/character driven that fic is. in another case, louis in HITA was one of those characters that i always felt just flowed out of me, same with harry in that fic as the companion character. my personal preference is to write as harry when i’m writing larry fics, and to write as zayn when i’m writing zarry, just because most times the plot/context of the fic is something i want to explore or show through a perspective that i think i can harness best through them. 

i think u kinda nailed it on the head tho, its hard to compare them!! i do always try and create conflict in the story through their character differences as well as the plot, which is why i love twisting their personalities so much. at the end of the day i think it really just comes down to the immediate feeling and portrayal of ideas i want in the fic. most times when i’m coming up with a fic idea, the POV character comes to me straight away, no questions asked. HITA was always from louis’ POV. i could dream all night could only work with purely harry’s POV for it to feel the way i wanted it to feel. dissolve felt immediately right with zayns POV. its hard to explain, but i think when writing there’s just this way you kind of know who needs to be the one telling the story. long story short, i personally love to write as harry the most, but i like to drift out of that space here and there when it feels right! 💓

[tozierswheelers]

promise [s.h.]

Requested: yes. Anon: ”Hi! Are you ok with writing about a reader who self-harms? I was wanting to request a one-shot where my baby boy Steve finds out when the reader’s long sleeve sweater hikes up. If you dont want to, thats okay :) Thank you so much, I love ur writing! “

Warnings: mentions of self-harm. please don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable in any way and if any one of you lovely people want to talk about something i’m always here <333

Summary: (Y/N) Henderson hasn’t been the same ever since the first Demogorgon attack. And now that they’re back, things will only get worse. (at this point, Steve and Nancy are no longer together!)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader (romantic), The Party x reader (platonic)

The Upside Down had changed (Y/N) Henderson.

It had changed everyone, yet the young (H/C) girl couldn’t seem to get over it. And that frustrated her to no end.

Her brother had seemingly moved on, finding comfort and happiness within his friend group. Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, and Steve Harrington had all moved on as well. Jonathan and Nancy’s relationship had blossomed into a close friendship that no one saw coming and Nancy and Steve remained the school’s most talked about couple.

They all had each other and you, well you remained alone.

It didn’t bother you at first. You coped well enough, trying to forget about the Demogorgon and slide back into your regular, everyday routine. Then, the nightmares began.

You never knew what happened during your dreams. All you knew was that you always woke up in a cold sweat, your fingernails digging into the flesh of your arm and drawing blood as you resisted the urge to scream. 

The dreams never stopped, only worsening as time passed. Your sleep schedule became messy, and you began spending hours locked away in the public library, studying nonstop in order to keep your grades from slipping.

You often wondered if you mother noticed your sudden change in attitude. Or even if Dustin did. 

You eventually decided that, no, they hadn’t noticed and that no one really cared. 

So you went about your days, digging your nails into your skin to keep from breaking down.

By the time almost a year had passed, your closet was almost completely composed of jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, specifically chosen to keep your scarred arms hidden.  

But you couldn’t stop.

You suppose it was your way to cope; digging your nails into your arms until you felt the blood trickle down your hands. You knew it wasn’t healthy but you couldn’t stop. It just came along with the nightmares. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone could tell.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Steve Harrington walked through the hallways of Hawkins High, trying to avoid the new kid Billy. His eyes lit up momentarily when he saw you standing at your locker and in a split second, he found himself walking towards you.

“Henderson! Hey,” Steve greeted, leaning against the locker next to yours.

Steve didn’t miss the way you flinched at his sudden appearance. Or the way you subconsciously tugged your sleeves over your hands.

“Harrington,” you greeted, voice quiet. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed at your quiet tone before his eyes landed on a bright orange piece of paper. 

“You going?” Steve asked, nodding to the small orange poster.

“‘Come and get sheet faced’,” you read out loud before turning back to Steve. “I think I’m actually just gonna go trick-or-treating with Dustin. Save Jonathan from chaperoning.”

“Aw, you’re no fun Henderson,” Steve said, a pout forming on his lips and causing you to chuckle. His heart skipped a beat. “C’mon. At least drop by real quick. For me?’

You rolled your eyes and reached for your book. You didn’t notice your sleeve rolling up slightly as you reached up. You didn’t see Steve’s eyes wander to your now exposed arm. You didn’t see the hurt and sadness in his big brown eyes as he took in the cuts and scars. 

You didn’t notice anything until you looked up and met his eyes, which were still focused on your arm.

“(Y/N),” Steve whispered, taking a step closer.

You, on the other hand, took several steps back, slamming your locker shut and looking at Steve in a panic. “I’m going to be late for calculus. I’ll catch you later Steve.”

You were gone in an instant, leaving Steve stranded in the sea of students as he tried to figure out why you were doing the things you do.

You smiled softly as you trailed after The Party. You watched as they argued over which candies were better, Dustin occasionally looking back to ask your opinion. 

“Just nougat, Dusty?” you teased. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

The rest of The Party laughed at your words, with Lucas smiling at you proudly. “Thanks (Y/N)! See, at least someone agrees with me.”

You slowed down a bit as a redheaded girl joined the group, noticing the excitement rising. You glanced around, taking note that it had gotten darker outside. Checking you watch, you noticed that it was fifteen minutes until 9 and you were nowhere near Mike’s house.

Looking back up, you frowned as you noticed that the street was pretty empty. In fact, you couldn’t see any members of the Party in their Ghostbusters costumes. You could feel the panic rise up in your chest as you looked around for them yet resisted the urge to scream, knowing that they were probably down the block.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you as you walked down the street, keeping your head up as you scanned the wandering kids that were still trick-or-treating. 

You squeaked slightly as your foot caught on a rock and you tripped, hearing rushing footsteps as you started nearing the ground. 

You heard a loud “oof” come from beneath you and you chuckled as you rolled off of the mysterious person.

“Henderson,” Steve groaned. “What are you doing out here?”

You laughed breathlessly as you laid in the street, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. “I was looking for Dusty but he seems to have gone missing.”

Steve snorted as he looked over at you, waiting for you to do the same.

You laid there for a minute, staring at each other before Steve’s eyes flickered down to your jacket. 

“(Y/N),” Steve began quietly, licking his lips nervously. “About earlier-”

“(Y/N)! There you are!”

You let out a small grunt as you stood p, a smile making its way onto your face as the Party reached you. 

“Guys!” you called out. “I thought I had lost you!”

The Party began babbling about how they ran to the houses with the best candy before immediately shutting up at the sight of Steve. They gave you confused looks and you sighed, sending an apologetic smile towards Steve as you ushered the kids back towards Mike’s house.

“What did he want?” Dustin grumbled as he chewed on a 3 Musketeers.

You smiled and ruffled his hair, ignoring his complaints. “I’m not sure kiddo.”

You panted as you ran inside the bus, your sweater torn from the demodogs that had surrounded you and Steve in the junkyard. You tried to take a deep breaths and control your fear but you could feel yourself panicking. 

It wasn’t until you felt Dustin’s hand slip into yours that you felt yourself calm down slightly, reminding yourself that you had to take care of your younger brother.

Once you had all calmed down enough, you decided to go towards the lab. You were keeping a close eye on the kids, trailing behind them, when you felt a hand slip into yours again. 

it was Steve.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, bringing your arm up. “What is this?”

You cringed as his eyes scanned over the half-moon indents on your arm, some more noticeable than others and some scared and fading. 

“Trust me Steve, it’s not what you think,” you spoke calmly, keeping your voice down in order to keep Dustin from hearing.

“What do you mean its not what it looks like?” Steve exclaimed, flailing his free arm around. 

You tugged him down harshly and hissed in his ear. “Listen Harrington. This isn‘t the time nor the place to discuss this. We have to focus on keeping the kids safe.”

Steve gave you an unreadable look before nodding reluctantly and letting you go. 

You continued to walk in silence. 

You didn’t speak to Steve again until Eleven had managed to close the gate. 

You had swung open the door, expecting your pizza, but instead found Steve.

“Harrington, in case you forgot, you already picked Dustin up,” you spoke, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration before pushing past you and into your home.

“Sure, come in. Make yourself comfortable,” you muttered as you shut the door and trudged after the big-haired boy. 

Steve was pacing around your living room, looking mildly irritated. 

“That’s it!” he exclaimed, making you jump in surprise. “I’m done pretending. You know what (Y/N)? I have been in love with you since freshman year and I will not just stand by and watch you tear yourself apart.”

You stayed silent as he stepped forwards and grabbed your arms, your heart pounding in your chest at his words. 

“Please,” Steve whispered. “Please tell me what’s going on because it is so painful to see this happening and not be able to do anything about it.”

You sighed before speaking. “It really isn’t what you think Steve. It’s just, I keep having nightmares and this is the only way that I can keep my anxiety under control. I didn’t think it was such a big deal and it allowed me to keep Dusty from worrying about me. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

Steve wrapped his arms around you as he sat down on the couch, bringing you down with him. It was a comfortable position, your head in the crook of his neck and his arms hugging you closely. 

“Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me that whenever you have a nightmare you’ll call me. No matter what.”

You nodded dazedly as you dozed off, causing Steve to smile as he lost consciousness as well.

A few hours later, Dustin walked through the door, cursing Steve for forgetting to pick him up.

At least Will’s mom was kind enough to offer him a ride. 

Dustin loosened his tie and made his way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Walking into the living room however, he lost his grip on his glass, causing it to fall and shatter.

The scene in front of him was something unique. On the drive home, he definitely wasn’t expecting his sister to be having a cuddle-fest with Steve Harrington himself.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Fucking finally.”

Tags: @delicrieux, @broken-pieces, @toekeery, @stanleyurisalive, @tapetayloe, @thekidsofneibolt, @enigmaticallyme, @gaiasambuci, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @baby-byers, @heckin-harrington, @theconscientiouswriter, @maggie-duvall, @it-reader, @gay-ships-and-tea-sips