#it’ll get a real name if it’s ever published

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Combine, look, and name!

combine(d) -

Once the mixture is thoroughly combined, Simon holds out the greased pan for Jamie to pour the batter into. Simon places the cake into the oven and sets the timer while Jamie scoots back to the couch, careful that Roy is on his bed.

look -

Roy doesn’t stay awake for long, but those three words, even if they’re you look awful are the best words in the English language right now as far as Jamie’s concerned.

name -

“What’s her name by the way?” Jamie asks and Roy gives him a look. “What? Phoebe were the one who invited me and I forgot to ask and then I couldn’t ask you because it would ruin the surprise. But now I feel proper weird not knowing her name.”

[sarahreesbrennan]

I remember reading in one of your blog entries (years ago??) that in the new book you were writing, the main character's *sister* had cancer. Does that mean that Alice was originally the main character of Long Live Evil? Was she going to go into the book to save Rae, instead of Rae going in to save herself?

How extremely kind of you to remember!

No, that was actually a YA murder mystery that I wrote while ill, revised while recovering, and sent out into the world where it died on submission. (Which means we sent it out to about 12 editors and the editor either said no, or said yes and took it to acquisitions - a group of people at the publisher including sales and marketing - and acquisitions said no.)

One editor told me she really wanted and really tried to buy it. Another person who worked in publishing (and has since changed jobs, or I wouldn’t share this) said the response at her acquisitions was - if you like this writer, find the next her (implications about health and youth were made).

I was terrified my agent was going to ditch me too, but she said ‘We’ll sell that one day, for now let’s write the next thing.’

I remember another writer telling me she missed my work that wasn’t a tie-in, and I felt ashamed to tell her it wasn’t that I wasn’t writing other things - it was that I couldn’t publish them.

The tie-ins meanwhile were paying the bills (they still are tbh!) and I was and remain so grateful for them. But I also really loved writing them - especially my Sabrina tie-ins, you don’t forget the first, and it reminded me I want to write horror and poly one day - and how they got me to love and sympathise with so many fandoms.

I see the burnout of caregivers all around me, and I wanted to write the story of one. But maybe I also wanted to take a step back from cancer. I didn’t think I did, at the time. I had a whole lot of things I tried writing before Long Live Evil, and I think some of them were really good. One of my critique partners gave me a lipstick with the same name as someone in the murder mystery. There was a romance novel another critique partner said was her favourite thing I’d ever written. But none had someone with cancer at the heart of the story.

And even though Rae isn’t much like me, maybe I had to start there. You can’t make real magic using someone else’s liver. Maybe I had to wait to be brave enough to use my own liver.

I do get requests for advice on how to cope with rejection of your writing, and I always worried I didn’t have anything else to say, but I suppose my example says - if you can, (and I know it’s hard, you feel so terrible at writing and so useless) (and you love the work you’ve done so much and you don’t see a way forward to loving the next thing) (but still, if you possibly can) write the next thing.

Even if the first thing sells, you’ll want the next thing one day. Writing the next thing is more writing practise, so it’ll make you better. Write the next thing.

Ultimately I’m really glad Long Live Evil was my comeback book. I think it needed to be. It took the time it took.

But maybe it was a shade of that past book (where the heroine’s sister with cancer was six, so not much like any of the Time of Iron characters) that made me think of the YA version of this book, which I always had in my mind as something I was intentionally hewing away from - a more straightforward book, a book that might have sold better - in which shy reader Alice was the hero. She’s the one with the suggestive hero name - Alice through the looking glass - the heroine looks, and the more projectable-upon personality. She’d get called annoying less often (though still some, because she’s a girl), partly because she is (with love, Rae knows I’m right) a genuinely less annoying person. Much kinder, much sweeter, and much better at in-depth reading! Her sister being in trouble would’ve been a backstory, a catalyst point, and - you’re totally right - a great motivation for her to get the Flower. Saving a family member is a much more sympathetic and heroic motivation than saving yourself and one I do love (the Hunger Games, Labyrinth, Mahy’s the Changeover, and I write it a lot!). I think Snarky While Tragically Dying Rae would’ve been a pretty popular side character, too. I think it would’ve been a good book! Just not mine.

I love your question because I love thinking about POV, and all the decisions that are the building blocks of a story. To me, the Alice centric Time of Iron is a version that exists. As are several versions of the Lia centric Time of Iron. And versions centring other characters exist to me, too. (Eric, absolutely.)

Speaking of POV musing, I think Rahela the wicked stepsister featured more in the musical than the book. If the Time of Iron series ever became a TV show (and at this point in time I think I’d rather a movie because it wouldn’t… get cancelled…) and I got to write it (don’t know why I would…) I would start with the beginnings for three characters about to go on a journey to somewhere strange to them: Key in the Cauldron, Rae in the hospital, and Vasilisa in the icelands. There are so many possibilities! And I really wanted the sense that there were so many possibilities, too.

But I wanted the chronically ill one to be the centre of the story, and for it to be her villain origin story, and to ask a lot of questions (hence a lot of villains!) about who gets villainised and why. And I thought hers, to my mind, would be the most fun of all the possible stories.

So that’s the one I made. But Long Live Evil has a lot of origins. Thank you for remembering one of them! I don’t think I would’ve dared tell the story, if things hadn’t worked out for me (so far, fingers crossed).

And I also tell it to be clear my publisher was taking a RISK with me and Long Live Evil, and I really appreciate that, and I’m so happy it’s worked out for them (again so far, early days, fingers crossed, etc).

I hope some writers - whether in the process of submission, rejection or making the choices that are the building blocks of story - find this helpful, and some readers find it interesting.

Let this be one of the universes in which your story is told.

[paigebooeckers1]

Maybe, Maybe Not

Paige x fem oc (Amiyah Dalton)

Hey guys! This is the first part to my first fic that I’m actually publishing which is kinda crazy for how long I’ve been reading on here and ao3, or writing and discarding. Idek if anyone will see this, but if you are reading welcome and I hope you enjoy! Depending on how this goes I may or may not write more parts, but yeah this is part one! 🫶🏽

Part 1

“Amiyah! Have you seen that black body suit of mine, like with the open back? I can’t find it anywhere.” My roommate yells at me from our shared bathroom.

“Oh no, definitely not,” I say sheepishly, knowing damn well it’s laying on my bed ready to be worn out tonight.

We’re getting ready to go out, one of us against their will and it certainty isn’t my insufferable best friend, who I just so happen to love enough to agree to go with.

It’s not even that I don’t love the party scene- quite the opposite actually, especially with Jade. But after finding out my ex transferred to UConn this year for football after I pretty much ran away from him, I’ve been trying to avoid the bars or parties like the plague. The thought of seeing him again— drunkenly trying to sneak his hands around my waist and convince me to give him another chance as he has about a dozen times before— it makes me nauseous.

However, I’ve also decided seeing him is inevitable and I’m done hiding from his sorry ass, hence why I’m contently getting ready in my pink Victoria Secret robe, humming along to Playing Games by Summer Walker as I finish up my makeup. I think I enjoy getting ready more than actually leaving the dorm.

Jade suddenly storms into my room, breaking me from my thoughts and making me mess up my brown lip liner in the process. Though I can’t even stifle my laugh as we both stare at the body suit in all its glory, paired with my favorite pair of low rise baggy jeans and my black Jordan 4s as it lays on my bed, waiting to be put on.

“I fuckin knew it, asshole,” not a hint of annoyance in her voice as she says it. “You’re lucky it looks better on you anyways.”

“I love you, too!” I say smiling to myself as she goes back to her spot in the bathroom sink, trying to perfect her lash clusters. I observe myself in my vanity mirror as I put on my last layer of lip gloss, making sure my makeup and curls look better than ever. Although there’s no real occasion, it almost feels like one, like I need to prove myself tonight, and I hate myself for it. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone, especially not Jordan. Even thinking of his name puts me in a bad mood.

I push the thought down, though, knowing it’ll only boost the anxiety I already feel before going pretty much anywhere when I don’t know what to expect. Tonight is about me and my best friend looking good and hopefully getting drunk.

I skip a few songs on my R&B playlist before getting up to get changed, knowing having my outfit on will automatically boost my confidence. Jade is already in the kitchen pouring us pregame shots, so I decide to pick up my pace. She’s clad in a pair of black, baggy cargos and a burgundy cropped tube-top, her belly ring glistening and boho braids reaching just above her ass.

She saunters into my room with the shots in hand, singing along to Practice by Drake that’s blaring from my speaker as she downs the vodka and has her arm raised to give me mine. One thing about Jade is she knows how to get you hyped for a night out. “I don’t know about you, but I’m excited as hell for tonight.” she always says. Jade’s the kind of friend that can mold into any situation you need her for, and I love her for it.

“Me too, honestly,” though I only half mean it. “And we look good. I swear if you bring someone home tonight though, I’ll kill you. That’s the last thing I needa hear.”

“You should know I just go where the wind takes me by now, Amiyah.” she says dismissively. She will most definitely be bringing someone home tonight. “What about you miss ‘I’m too good for everyone?’”

I laugh at this. I don’t have that mentality at all, but I certainly have slowed down when it comes to hook ups and one night stands since my freshman year at UConn. I’m a junior now, but I find it a waste of time. You get wasted, go home with someone, wake up the next morning feeling like shit (physically and mentally), and leave as fast as possible. Having said that, I find it hard to commit to relationships just as much.

“Nope, I just wanna drink tonight, Jade.

You already know.”

“Man you gotta live a little more, and how you gon claim you’re bi but never want to get with anyone, you literally like both!” Jade says jokingly. I can’t help but laugh at the irony of that—it’s very true.

“You should really focus more on yourself, god knows you need to.” I’m of course joking. She flips me off with her acrylic nail before heading to the kitchen to pour us each one more pregame shot.

I throw a few rings on my manicured hands to compliment the tattoos on my fingers, and spray my favorite perfume before leaving my room, making sure to grab my ID and lipgloss filled purse. Jade is already taking her final shot and I join her, the liquor burning my throat while also easing my mind. I take one final look at myself in the large mirror by our door, admiring the way my (Jades) body suit hugs my waist perfectly, the way my jeans hang low and flattering on my hips, my gold jewelry complimenting my brown skin. I feel good.

“You probably shouldn’t look so good if you want to avoid Jordan, Ami.” Jade says with a joking tone, but there’s also meaning behind it. She knows how bad our relationship was, and I think all 5’5 of her would be willing to beat his ass for me.

“Nah, I don’t need to worry about him, he should be scared of seeing me.” And I mean every word, whether I believe it myself or not. I scrunch my curls in the mirror before we head out the door. I feel good. Tonight is going to be good.

Hopefully.

-

Ted’s is packed. I’m not sure exactly what else I was expecting for a Friday night, but it never ceases to amaze me how many college students can fit into such a tiny bar. I instinctively grab Jades elbow as she guides us through the crowded bar so we can order our drinks. Surprisingly, there’s two stools open at the bar, which we rush to. I sit down with a huff and scope out who’s at Ted’s tonight as I order our drinks; a dirty shirley for me and rum and coke for Jade.

“Here you go ladies, they’re on the house,” the bartender says with a wink as he slides us our drinks. I shoot him a toothy grin and thank you. Although flattered, I have to fight back an eye roll. Too many men have egos bigger than themselves, probably thinks he’ll be taking one of us home tonight. I take a sip of the drink, the grenadine hitting my taste buds and it makes me wonder how people could order any other drink. I turn on the barstool to say exactly that to Jade, but she’s already off to the side of the bar talking to a guy she’s been talking to on the football team, Nick or something. Typical.

A wave of self-consciousness hits me sitting at the bar alone, so I go on my phone to distract myself, sipping on my drink and mindlessly scrolling through instagram. That is until I hear that familiar yet dreaded voice calling my name, almost taunting me. I should’ve known. I should’ve told Jade to stay with me.

Fuck.

“Ayy Amiyah. I called your name bout’ 10 times. You too good to talk to me now or sum, baby?” His voice is slurred with alcohol and dripping with cockiness. It makes me sick.

“Don’t fucking call me that, Jordan.” I don’t even look at him as I say with it as much force as possible, though I feel small as he puts a hand on the small of my back, towering over me with a smirk that says ‘I know you still want me.’ It’s gross. I quickly stand up in attempt to leave his presence and find Jade, but he’s faster than I am, like he knew what was going to happen before he even approached me.

His right hand grabs my wrist, the other snaking around my waist. He pulls me into him in attempt to keep me close, so close I can smell the alcohol on his breath as it fans my face. I turn my head away and immediately try to squirm out of his grasp, my free hand trying to push him off of me. Not only to get away from him, but I also can’t let him see any weakness that is forcing itself to break through me.

“Get the fuck off me bro.” I say, finally breaking free from his grasp, feeling the need to disinfect my entire body. I’m floored as Jordan has the audacity to reach for me again. “I don’t know know why you always playing hard to get Ami, just let me take you ho-“

“Yoo, everything good here?” A tall, blonde figure inserts herself between us, one hand holding her drink, the other on his shoulder pushing him back with enough force to cut him off. That’s hot as fuck I think to myself, but my face stays in the same scowl directed toward him. I have to stifle a laugh as he quickly cowers under her, as she probably has a good inch or two on him.

“Oh yeah, man, just tryna talk to my girl here,” he says with a smirk. I swear I see red as the words leave his mouth. We’re done. I left. And he thinks he has the right to call me his girl? Insane.

“Your girl? Well it don’t look like she really wanna talk to you, not gonna lie.” She says it so sternly, I almost feel intimidated and she isn’t even talking to me. As much as I appreciate this girls gesture, I quite literally can’t hold back from telling him off myself.

“‘Your girl’ is actually crazy. I am not your girl, and I am not about to have this conversation with you here. Get the fuck out my face.” I get up in his face, ready to bitch slap the smug look he somehow still has on his face right off.

“Yeah you should probably get the fuck out the bar, actually,” the girl says firmly. I can’t even see her face, but clearly the look on it says more than words because at that, he looks at me, then at the blonde, then to me again. Although it looks like he wants to argue, we all know it won’t get him anywhere, especially in a crowded bar.

He mutters a string of curse words I couldn’t care less about under his breath as he walks toward the exit and I immediately relax, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Not only is he gone, but hopefully he’ll get the hint and leave me alone. For good. I’m not sure if he thought coming to UConn would win me back, but he’s dead wrong. I’m done falling for his lies, the way he tries to sweet talk me back into his life. It might’ve worked in the past, but not anymore.

I’m broken from my thoughts as the blonde clears her throat behind me, and I suddenly feeling bad for forgetting she was even there, as I still have my back to her as I stare at the exit door. I quickly turn around to thank her for cutting him off, and that’s when I realize I’m face to face with Paige Bueckers.

Paige Bueckers; basketball phenom, campus celebrity, not to mention major whore. It’s annoyingly hard to deny how attractive she is, though— she’s wearing a simple back t-shirt that shows off her biceps, grey sweats hung low on her hips, enough to see the Nike boxers peeking under them. A silver chain decorates her neck and her blonde hair is slicked back into a bun. Her jaw is sharp, her nose perfectly sloped, big blue eyes staring right down into my brown ones, her plump bottom lip jutted out and tied up in a small smile— fuck what was I saying? Oh yeah..her roster is disturbingly long and I personally do not want to be another tally on that list. So, I keep my cool.

“Oh, thanks for that. You didn’t need to, I could’ve handled him,” I say with ease, adjusting the straps of my body suit. I smirk up at her, not missing the way her eyes follow my actions, almost hungrily.

There’s a beat of silence as she’s looking down at me, until she licks her lips. “Oh, yeah don’t worry bout’ it.” She pauses again. “Sooo...is he your boyfriend? Annoying ex?” she says with that infamous smirk. There it is. The cockiness, the charm that pulls every girl she glances at in.

“Ex. More than annoying, though. I’d probably go with crazy, obsessive, dickhead.” I laugh, though it holds little humour.

She laughs, too. “Yeah, I got my fair share of those.” Yeah I don’t doubt it, I think to myself. Her eyes rake over my body and she licks her lips again. It’s taking everything in me not to look at them.

“So what’s your name, ma?” The nickname rolls off her tongue like she’s said it hundreds of times before, though it does have more than an effect on me than it should.

“Amiyah.” Despite the feeling in my stomach, my tone remains casual, sultry, even. I can see I’m having some kind of effect on her, which boosts my confidence slightly. “And you are…”

“I’m Paige,” Her cocky expression falters slightly, yet she still holds hold her hand out, smiling. I let out a real laugh, but accept the handshake regardless. As if I don’t already know exactly who she is, and as if she doesn’t know I do. “I know your name, basketball star. You gon’ give me your autograph or what?” She’s still holding my manicured hand, thumb brushing over one of the tattoos on my fingers before dropping it. Fuck.

“Amiyah…” she drags out the last syllable before continuing. “Pretty name, pretty face, and a sense of humor? I feel like I needa buy you a drink.” She flashes me a genuine smile. I think about it for a moment, I really do. But I also remember my goal for tonight, and I’m not about to change my mind for Paige Bueckers. Though it’s very hard to do so as her blue eyes bore into my brown ones, making my 5’4 feel much shorter.

“I’m flattered, but no thank you. I gotta find my friend she’s probably looking for me. Plus, I already got one, see?” I grab my dirty shirley, only remembering it’s sitting beside me on the bar when I reach for my purse to leave and collect Jade.

“Dirty shirley, you got taste, huh?” She says as she stirs her own. Her voice is casual, yet laced with something I can’t put a finger on.

“Yeah, can’t go wrong, right?” I don’t even wait for her response. “Well thanks again for helping me, I appreciate it.” I give her a quick smile.

“Yeah, yeah no problem.” She says casually, rubbing the back of her neck. I can read her expression, though, and it’s telling me that she’s thrown off. That her streak of buying a pretty girl a drink and taking her home to do god knows what else is broken. I almost feel proud.

“See you around, Paige.” I don’t wait for a response before leaving her at the bar, forgetting my drink in the process but I can’t find it in me to care. I need to get out of her presence before I actually fold. I easily find Jade, looking not very happy, and not very sober.

“Let’s leave, I’m sick of tonight.” Her voice is slurred, and I can’t help but laugh. I’ve dealt with one too many emotional, drunken Jade moments that I’m sure it’s about Nick. I don’t even argue her, wanting nothing more than to take my makeup and jeans off and go to bed at this point.

As we’re walking out, I quickly glance back at the bar at see Paige still there. She’s sitting now, sipping on her own dirty shirley with a tight-lipped smile. Her teammates, Jana, Ice, and Kk, are laughing at her, like they’re teasing her. I can’t help but wonder if it’s about the interaction she just had with me. Were they watching her, waiting to see if she’d score a catch? I laugh to myself, glad I was able to give them a different ending to a show they probably see way too often. I’m sure she’ll find someone else in no time.

Luckily the walk back to our apartment is short. Jade is mumbling in annoyance, half to me, half to herself, something about leaving so soon and cutting it off with her boy-toy who she’ll most likely be back to soon enough. I tune her out; for some reason I can’t stop thinking about Paige. How she looked at me, like I was the only girl in that bar. I force the thoughts away though, knowing exactly how the night would’ve ended if it had gone another way. I’d be one more tally on her list of girls to say she’s got with to only forget about two days later.

I hate being vulnerable, so I avoid it at all costs. Maybe that’s why I avoid intimacy, whether it’s for one night or one year. Maybe that’s why I have raging trust issues. Who knows, I don’t want to find out and I don’t need to either. Not now, at least.

“Next time, you’re coming with me again whether you like it or not, and you’re having fun!” Jade says to me, trying to serious, but I only laugh at the slur of her words, as she had much more to drink than me tonight. I decide to hold off on telling her about my events tonight until the morning. “Ion wanna hear nooo excuses missy!”

“Yeah yeah Jade, go to bed babe.” I say as we finally reach our apartment, slipping inside and locking the door. I retreat to the comfort of my bed where I’m left alone with my thoughts. Maybe I want to go next time, maybe I want to see what happens.

Maybe.

-

“Amiyah, you’ve got to be joking…you’re joking right?” Jade’s deadpanning me, her voice sounding genuinely angry. I feel like I’m coming out to my mother again. We’re sitting on my bed, the morning sun peeking through my half shut curtains, iced coffees we picked up from the campus cafe in our hands.

“What? I don’t see what’s wrong here.”

“You telling me Paige Bueckers eye fucked you, shook your hand, offered to bye you a drink…and you said… no?” She’s laughing, almost to herself. “You’re unbelievable. This is what I’m talking about. That woman is every girls dream, and you shut her down like some random guy. You’re even too good for Paige Bueckers. I can’t-” I cut her off before she can continue her rant, much too passionate about this whole situation for a girl who’s supposedly straight.

“Personally I think you’re being very dramatic. She just wanted to hit and dip, that’s what she does and everyone knows it.” I sip my coffee, simply wanting to be done with this conversation.

“Oh okay, so if, like, Drew Starkey was at that bar, asked to buy you a drink and take you home, would you say no?” I let out a loud laugh, partly because of how passionate she is being about this, partly because she compared Paige Bueckers to Drew Starkey. Did I say Paige wasn’t absolutely gorgeous? No. I just don’t need to be another trophy on her case.

“I’m not answering that, Jade. This is about my dignity, not my attraction. I’m done with this conversation and I think you should be too.” I shake my head lightheartedly as I get up and head to the bathroom, taking my curly hair out of its bun and shaking it out. “If anything, let’s talk about your horrible taste in men. Nick? Really? First of all ew, second of all he seems like a dick.”

“Shut up Ami, he’s not that bad. And he’s funny! Don’t worry, he knows where home is.” We both laugh at that, because somehow Jade always does lure them back in somehow. She fails to mention my pretty bad track record of relationships. Jordan, on and off since senior year of high school turned crazy ex.

Olivia, my best friend, sophomore to senior year of high school.(do not recommend best friend to girlfriend pipeline)

And then there’s my very concerning list of hookups, which Paige did not need to be apart of to make for another traumatic story. Nope. Don’t even like the thought of how her hands would feel around waist, how her lips would feel…Not at all.

And that’s final.

-

Paige’s POV

“Girl boo, do not even lie right now, lying is a major sin. Do you want to go hell? I did NOT think so!” Kk is practically screaming at me. It’s been two days since the bar, and she’s felt the need to tell pretty much everyone in her path, including all of our teammates, about my interaction with Amiyah. Hell, I think she even told CD. So what? She said no to me buying her a drink. That happens. It’s not a big deal.

“I swear I had to walk over to you after she left, pick your jaw up off the floor and put it back in your mouth, Paige.” Ice chimes in now. Okay maybe it is a big deal. Maybe my ego is a little bruised. I couldn’t help but falter when she declined my offer, especially after saving her from that douche who was basically assaulting her in the middle of the bar.

“Alright, alright chill. Y’all are reaching now. It’s literally just a drink.”

“Okay. Then if it’s just a drink, why were you sulking for the rest of the night, and this morning? You literally are right now!” Jana says, and I’m suddenly aware of my hunched posture and furrowed eyebrows. I don’t even answer her question. Not only do I really think it’s not worth talking about, but I also don’t have an answer. Sure, I could blame it on the fact that I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected like that, so casually like she had anything better to do. But even then, usually I’d go find another girl to talk to, to take home, to fill some kind of void I constantly felt. But I didn’t even want to.

There’s something about Amiyah. The way her big brown eyes stared up at me like she was trying to figure me out, but saw right through me at the same time. Her plump lips, the dimple she had on her left cheek when she smirked at me. The small freckles that lined her nose paired with a gold septum, the curve and sway of her hips when she walked away. Or maybe it’s the confidence she had, the drawl in her voice, way she didn’t seem fazed by anything— me, her ex, the whole situation. She just wanted to find her friend. It made me want to get to know her more. It drew me in.

So now I’m here, getting it rubbed in by my friends as we sit in the living room of me, Jana and Allies apartment.

“I’m bouta kick all of you out, for real.” I say, not even really joking. It’s late and I have class in the morning, though I can’t even remember what it is. I think I’ve been maybe 3 times this year. (super senior things, chill)

“We heading out anyways, academic weapon things. Oh, and go take a shower, your attitude stinks!” Kk and Ice filter out of the dorm, leaving just Allie, Jana and I, their calmer presence lowering my blood pressure. It’s silent for a moment, as Jana’s already in bed and Allie is making some snack.

“Do you really like her or something? What’s really got you so bothered, P?” Allie quietly asks me from the kitchen as I’m getting up to head to my room. She seems genuinely concerned and it confuses me. Am I really being that weird? I guess I am, I don’t think I’ve stopped replaying the interaction with Amiyah in my head since it happened. I think three separate girls texted me today asking if I wanted to hangout, and I haven’t even bothered to open any of them.

“Nah it’s chill I’m like, over it. Thanks though, Allie.” I’m almost trying to convince myself. She nods in response and I shut my door, plopping onto my bed. My hands run down my face in frustration before opening my phone to mindlessly scroll on instagram, still thinking about the interaction. Was I weird with her? Should I have butted into her and that guys argument? Did I ask stupid questions? That one I can answer; asking for her name.

Amiyah Dalton. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know who she was before I came up to her. I’ve seen her around campus, though she’s very hard to miss. It’s like she’s constantly glowing, her smile lighting up any room she walks into. At the same time, she also has this mysterious energy, like no one actually ever knows what’s going on in her head. Maybe I see through her because I’m the same way, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve heard murmurs about her through mutual friends, girls and guys saying they���ve hooked up with her and hardly ever heard from her again.

Maybe I’m this bothered because I thought I could be different, like I could take her home and prove that I am. But I didn’t even get to do that after she basically brushed me to the side. I feel like I need to prove myself to her. Yeah, that’s all. I just need one night, one taste of her and I’ll be fine.

I’m broken out of my trance when her instagram comes up on my feed as “suggested for you.” Real funny. My fingers seem to have a mind of their own as they click on her profile. I spend more time than I’d like to admit on there, intently looking at each post, wanting nothing more than to like, comment and favorite every one. My thumb even hovers over the follow button for about 5 minutes before I decide against it. She probably already thinks I’m weird, I shouldn’t…but what if I shoot my shot and she notices me? Nah she’d proba- Am I really think this hard about a fucking instagram page? Maybe. Am I going to bag this woman? Yes.

Well, maybe.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

March Creator of the Month: Bayleedraws-sometimesx

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!  The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here. Center photo by the lovely @bayleedraws-sometimesx!

Quick Links:

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How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Baylee

More below...

When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I think it was in 2018, and I first played Bloodbound 1. 

When and why did you join Choices fandom?

It was December 2020. I was really struggling at that point; my whole life had changed, and I still hadn't come to terms with it after a year. It was just an escape. 

How did you pick your blog name? 

It’s just my name and what I do. 

Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It’s just a pfp i did over halloween. It’d me dressed like Sally from Nightmare before Christmas. 

Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I used to want to be a writer. I really love writing stories, I’ve never really written any fanfiction, but technically, I can draw and write. 

How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

It’ll be four years in December since I’ve been creating Choices-related stuff, but ever since I was a little kid, I’d get obsessed with different shows/ characters and write/ draw them. 

What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My favourite book is definitely Bloodbound. I love drawing BB related stuff because I have a slight obsession with Kamiliah 

Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a drawing I did for @ao719. I think I would change a lot if I were to draw it now. I don’t really like it anymore, and my style has definitely changed over the years.  I find it really embarrassing looking back at old drawings. 

What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

A BB animation (I still haven't finished), but it was really fun writing the story and designing/ drawing everything. 

Do you have a creation that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I never expected any animations to do well and was very surprised when they did. I’m really sure that I would like to get more attention. 

If you could only draw one style or type of art for the rest of your life, what would it be and why? 

I don't know. I’m moving into my own flat soon, so I’ve been drawing some scenery pieces I’m going to put up once I’m there. I find them really therapeutic to draw, so maybe that. 

Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs?

Sometimes. 

What element of art do you struggle with most?

Probably finishing the pieces off. By that point I’ve stared at it for so many hours that all I can see are  the problems with it. 

Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Absolutely, I’m going through a lot right now so there’s quite a lot of things that i really do want to finish but i just dont have the motivation. 

If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Maybe. My big brother taught me how to draw, so occasionally, I’ll let him look at some of my drawings. 

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

I can’t think of anyone published that I looked up to or have really inspired my artwork. There’s definitely people that i know in my life that have. 

Which one of your creations would you like to see fiction written about? 

I have absolutely no idea lol 

Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

Yeah, I love creating new characters and really animations doing animations of my original characters.

What other hobbies do you have?

A lot of crafty things. I was taught how to sew, knit, and crochet as a kid, and those are things I still enjoy doing now. 

[raelle-writing]

Build Jakapan Case Update + My Thoughts

It’s the middle of the night for me but I thought you all should know that it was announced that Poi and Build have settled in court. Both have published letters that agree and admit that Poi lied about everything and Build is innocent.

Here is Build’s Letter and translation:

And here is Poi’s letter and translation:

(Both translations done by @.yakibbb on Twitter)

This likely isn’t the end as her admitting her falsehoods will have to be a condition of the settlement and there will likely still be a hearing to nail down the damages she has to pay. But her settling like this confirms what I suspected for a long time: she has no evidence. Everything she’s ever accused him of came from her own mind. I suspected that from the start when she came out so strong and said she was going to sue him, and then just… did not.

I have some concerns. I will admit I haven’t been neutral in quite a while because Poi gave me no reason to trust her and every reason not to with her inconsistencies and Pinterest-picture evidence. I like to believe victims but i also firmly follow “trust, but verify” as a mantra. And I couldn’t verify anything she said. I could, however, see the inconsistencies and the coincidental timings and the conveniently cropped screenshots she shared as “proof” of him being so awful.

I digress.

I am concerned that since a mere couple of days ago she was slandering him live on TikTok that she won’t stop now, even with the settlement. I’m equally concerned that a settlement won’t be enough to clear Build’s name in the eyes of his neutral fans. I had hoped he’d take the case all the way so that the evidence would come out. But then again, this is a deeply private matter so I don’t blame him for wanting to keep his evidence private.

I have absolutely no hope that this will change the minds of people who are determined to hate him. But I do have hope that people who went neutral will see this and appropriately change their minds about him and this matter.

I am a bit concerned about what a case like this means for “believe the victim!” Since Poi obviously exploited that exact mentality as she defamed him, knowing it would ruin him to even be accused of something like this regardless of if he did it. I don’t think it’s a bad thing for more people to take the “trust but verify” approach… however I’m concerned that cases like this will be pointed to when discrediting real victims and dismissing their cases as simple misunderstandings. Because at the core of it, it seems like this was a messy break up that went really, really wrong.

I have no real closing thoughts here other than:

1. This isn’t quite over though I don’t know if we’ll get exact settlement details in the future.

2. I’ll be watching carefully to see if she actually stops with her erratic, defaming behavior or not. I’m not entirely sure she’s capable of stopping, so I’m concerned he may end up having to sue again if she breaks the settlement.

3. I think people need to be a bit more critical about believing people blindly BUT should still default to believing the victim in most cases to avoid using bad examples like this to discredit real victims.

4. This will do nothing to change people who are determined to hate Build’s mentality and I don’t expect it to. It was never about abuse for them, only blind hatred.

5. It’ll be interesting to see how Build’s life and career progress after all of this, especially juxtaposed against all the other Thai BL actors who are having problematic behavior come to light lately…

[knifesxedge]

WRITER ASK GAME 3, 23, 32, 42 & 55

YAY thank you sm for the ask marz!!

3: Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

hoo boy okay. so these are WILDLY different processes for me because i usually don’t do chaptered fics. that is because my usual process is getting inspiration, and before i lose that, writing a draft. what makes certain fics take way longer is when i CANT get through a whole draft without losing inspiration and then i have to just keep coming back to it. at that point i read through it and change details, add details, and refine, and once i’ve refreshed my memory on what the flow of the story is, i’ll try to add on. sometimes i can add a lot, sometimes i can only add little bits at a time, so fics will drag out from initial conception to actually being published. for my only chaptered fic, i am still struggling with that second part, where i need to keep going back and working on it. so hi, if you’re wondering if and i ache is EVER going to be updated, the answer is hopefully. the difference is that for that fic specifically, I HAVE AN OUTLINE WRITTEN. granted it’s a very simple outline but i rarely write down an actual outline, i just make a roadmap for myself in my head. i may actually try to start integrating that for longer fics like the still-in-purgatory exterminators au, as those tend to be more complicated and it would PROBABLY be helpful to not have it in my head. in any case, my process is usually to just keep going back to it over and over again and picking at little bits of it, changing something here, adding something there, until i feel it’s in as good a shape as it can be. if i’m stuck feeling like it’s not great but i don’t know how to fix it OR i just feel like having an outside perspective i will sometimes loop my friends into it and ask them for some feedback :)

23: Best writing advice for other writers?

oh, god. okay. i don’t feel like i’m very qualified to be handing out advice, really, i’m just some guy who writes stories i like about characters i like. okay. hm. i think what makes stories better though is definitely get some fresh eyes on it! get some feedback from people who DO know what they’re doing. ask your writer friends to look at it and tell you what they think is lacking or needs changing. that honest to god has improved my writing a lot. other than that, though, i think reading different kinds of writing, good writing, good fanfiction that rivals novels but also REAL novels, different authors, different genres, whatever. that will improve your writing because you’ll have a much more varied pool of inspiration to pull from AND you’ll expand your vocabulary, vary your sentence structure, learn new ways of expressing yourself. of course i’m not good at following my own advice because finding time to sit down and read is HARD for me BUT i KNOW FOR A FACT that it makes you better. god knows my own work has been easier to complete/i’ve had more inspiration, i’ve found the words flow easier, things sound better and more mature and less regurgitated, etc, when i’ve been reading other people’s work. but again like it has to be GOOD writing otherwise it’ll work in the opposite direction. read literature, kids.

32: Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

WHEE okay! here you go:

@sleevesareforlosers /costumejail (danny doesn’t write for dd anymore but xe literally has over 150 fics to peruse. shilling for my bestie go read danny’s stuff ok ESPECIALLY since i know a lot of y’all like kobracola and funkobra)

allhaunting + semperfemina (as far as i’m concerned they’re a package deal and iirc they’re actually a married couple. anyways the dynamic they write changes slightly from fic to fic but it’s always realistically toxic and super interesting. plus they’re just really good writers. one of their fics’ endings makes me cry on a regular basis. anyways. it’s good give ‘em a look)

hard to decide on a concrete third…probably a tie between @agentcherricola /truefinches, present company/tiredstressed, and @discocritic . like YES i know only one of those three people i listed is actively writing dd fic rn and it’s you, marz, but i’ve been around for a long time by dd fandom standards. disco’s stuff is really good and solid and i feel bad for y’all that will never get to read the stuff of theirs that no longer exists on the internet /gen & matt’s got good stuff too plus we’re friends so i have to try and prod y’all to check his work out. OH and i almost forgot but @paralytic-states is another good friend of mine who i’d consider part of the remnants of the funpoison old guard still here on dd tumblr <3

give all these folks some love they’re very talented!! 💕

42: What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

last fic i read was Habit Forming by ros3bud009 and yes i would recommend it. if people were allowed to be gay on tv in the 60s this could have all happened in the show which should tell you something about how insane star trek already is <3 spirk nation

55: Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

ghoul is my favorite character BUT. party is my favorite to write. that’s never really changed, theyre just fun because their perspective especially of themself oftentimes does NOT line up with reality and it’s fun to play with that. on the other hand i’ve started to really enjoy writing kobra and jet as well for fresh perspectives on things and also because it’s fun to get to write about different characters’ perspectives and motivations! like i mentioned in the last ask i got for this game character-driven stuff is my favorite to write :]

thank you again so so much for the ask!

send me fic writer asks from HERE!

[cerebralabyss]

USELESS INFO I FEEL LIKE PUBLISHING!! and also just archiving on my blog 4 my own sake :D

here is the stories/reasons 4 all my alters’ names cuz they’re all weirdly significant in some way or another OR went thru a very long process 2 become the name it is today

putting it under cut cuz it’ll probably be longish

reffy & ramen - they both went thru different processes, but come from the same origin. VERY LONG STORY I AM NOT SHORTENING IT!!

we were finding a new collective name cuz our old one did NOT suit us at all!! and at the time, our understanding of our system was very different. we had a lot of trouble separating reffy/ramen cuz not having one host scared us, so ramen was a sort of “sub-alter” to reffy for a good while until we were comfy with the distinction.

we settled on the name remiel/ramiel, but couldn’t decide the spelling. we ended up using remiel collectively, but that name was also specific to reffy because again at the time afraid of deviating from host. so ramen ended up with the scrapped spelling!!

reffy - when we realized we in fact were not just one host, having reffy’s name as our collective name was rly confusing!! we ended up shortening it to “remy” for a rly long time. then, we ended up fusing the names “remy” and “maffy/maffal” (maffy is a sub-alter to reffy that we had treated as distinct for a while b4 realizing it wasn’t healthy for not fun reasons!!) so it became reffy!! and yes, reffy is short for reffal!! no one calls him that tho cuz it’s weird (other than dire cuz he’s strange but he only does that in private) (and sometimes jax scolds him using his full name cuz it’s funny)

fun fact: reffy decided 2 use the name reffy instead of remy in the vegetable section of a grocery store. very useful information ik (sarcasm)

ramen - this name didn’t end up getting changed till like a little over a year ago now!! they stuck with “ramiel” for a good while, purely because we have a dog tag with the name ramiel engraved on it and they didn’t want to change their name cuz then the dog tag would be WRONG!! but eventually they were like NO im CHANGING IT. the nickname “ram” rly stuck (since no one called them ramiel anyway cuz it was confusing with it being so close to the collective name) so took the ram and turned it into ramen like the instant noodles cuz enby behaviour (lh)

they actually considered the name “azriel” for a bit n couldn’t decide between that n ramen. ramen is much more fitting i could not IMAGINE IT BEING ANYTHING ELSE

(i’m writing this and im writing in third person to avoid confusion and it FEELS WEIRD!!!)

jax - ok i’m leaving out the context of my 2020 system yrs cuz it’s not rly relevant and complicated BUT!! this name came from back then. it came out of NOWHERE LIKE LITERALLY IT JUST POPPED INTO OUR HEAD LIKE “yea this guy… he’s jax” and i don’t know WHERE IT CAME FROM cuz we probably only ever heard that name less than 10 times our whole life. it’s RLY WEIRD but it kind of makes it feel oddly special cuz it just happened without us consciously thinking. like that’s just how the name was Meant 2 BE

his name has not changed a SMIDGE since then. he did end up deciding it’s short form 4 something else somewhere along the line, but only one non insys person& knows what it is cuz he’s weird abt it. it’s been years n he’s still keeping it a secret .. and no it’s not jackson !!! that’s ur one hint :3c

nuni - this one is kinda silly!! when we were like 8-12 our online alias name was our cat’s name and since nuni was the primary host at that time the name rly stuck with her. when she came out of dormancy a few yrs ago, we wanted to change it since it could get confusing differentiating our CAT from our HEADMATE so we went with a random nickname we called our cat!! idk where it came from exactly tbh,, but our parents still call our cat that sometimes like once in a blue moon and each time they do it feels SO WEIRD!!

dire - ima be real i know there was a reason behind this name but i can’t remember it 4 the life of me. none of us can it’s rly weird. just pretend this is an awesome cool backstory ok thx

BUT!!! there’s a neat story behind one of his many old names!!! he first developed/split as an oc introject, we called him “corgo” cuz he more closely resembled the comfort au version of said oc (which in hindsight was not a comfort au it was just the personification of the introject) and combined the word “comfort” with “margo” (the oc’s name)

driell - him n his sibling (who isn’t in our sys) both have names that r their parents’ names combined together n letters smushed around a lil bit!! his sisters name (alexis) is a combination of the specific alter names, and driell’s is a combination of collective names!!!

THIS WAS ACTUWLLY A LOT LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED i expected it 2 be long but i underestimate how much i love infodumping about my system WAYGYH. if u read this all the way thru it means the world 2 me u have no idea

i wanr to infodump abt system stuff more cuz it makes me happy :33 just worry abt clogging up my blog a bit :P

that’s it that’s all!!! good day 2 u

- 🖤

(🥀🎀🧸 co-con)

[classicmarvelera]

When Avengers and X-Men turned Thirty

If you tell an Avengers fan today that the 90s belonged to the X-Men, it’ll be hard for them to even imagine such a reality ever existed. The mutant super-team which was created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in 1963, carried on by Roy Thomas and Neal Adams until its end, revived by Len Wein and Dave Cockrum in 1975, catapulted by Chris Claremont along with John Byrne who gets succeeded by Jim Lee which led to the publishing of the record-breaking comic book: X-Men Vol. 2 no. 1 in 1991   

The Avengers on the other hand started out strong in 1963 with Stan Lee and Jack Kirby at the helm. They would continue their strong run till the 80s thanks to Roy Thomas, John Buscema, Steve Englehart, George Pérez, and Roger Stern, but something happens in the 90s that makes them the 2nd most popular franchise within the House of Ideas when Bob Harras and Steve Epting took over 

If one looks at the Marvel Checklist from the 80s and 90s, we find X-Men from having five ongoing series (The Uncanny X-Men, X-Factor, New Mutants, Wolverine, and Excalibur) to having seven (The Uncanny X-Men, X-Men, X-Factor, X-Force, Wolverine, Cable, and Excalibur) leaving behind Avengers with six ongoing titles (Avengers, Captain America, Thor, Iron Man, West Coast Avengers, She-Hulk and Captain Marvel). A stark difference between the two franchises was that X-Men titles were spin-offs of The Uncanny X-Men ongoing series whereas the Avengers came into existence thanks to characters established prior to the team formation (Iron Man, Ant-Man, and the Wasp, Thor, Hulk, and Captain America) thereby having fewer ongoing spin-offs than X-Men 

It was the year 1993

Under the leadership of Tom DeFalco and Bob Harras, a year-long celebration of both teams was announced with 30th-anniversary special limited series, cross-over events in ongoing titles, poster books, posters, trading cards, and even a Survival Guide to the X-Mansion 

This was the year when (what is now condescendingly referred to as) gimmick covers peaked. This was the year when Magneto’s real name was revealed only to be retracted/changed in X-Men Vol. 2 no. 72. This was the year when Captain America wasn’t leading the Avengers, instead it was Black Knight (Dane Whitman), Hercules was without a beard, the short-lived brown leather jackets were introduced for both teams and lastly, this was the year when both teams would be facing off against Magneto and his Acolytes

Trading Places and the Drama that came with it

Magneto’s son Quicksilver (married to the In-Human Crystal) had joined X-Factor, the Eternal Sersi is an Avenger; and so is Crystal. Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, She-Hulk, Warbird, Captain Marvel (Monica Rambeau), Ant-Man and the Wasp, Scarlet Witch, and Hawkeye (to name a few) take a back seat with some not even seen throughout the anniversary year which was quite disappointing for Avengers fans 

However, for X-Men fans, seeing Magneto return with an enraged Messiah Complex thanks to being betrayed by one of his own disciples; to exact revenge on his long-time friend and rival Charles Xavier for what he and his students had done to him and his fortress of solitude in X-Men Vol. 2 no. 1-3; by breaking one of his students away from him 

Friends becoming mortal Foes, crossing the lines which they had themselves established between them. Disillusionment amongst their followers, raging fanaticism fueled by a cruel past of a leader and his followers. Infidelity, and being forced to help a mortal enemy are some of the themes that were explored by the creators 

Why 1993 remains important? 

Increased digitization and the existence of the Marvel Cinematic Universe have adversely affected Marvel Comics. Making a buck out of selling comics is now harder which in turn has made Marvel introverted, and risk-averse; and as we are now in the 60th year of both teams; there are hardly any plans of celebrating both's history in an impactful as well as meaningful way like it was done three decades ago by Marvel Editorial 

While the 30th Anniversary came without contributions from the very people that had made these teams Super-Fan Favorites; it sure occupies an important place within the hearts and minds of X-Men and Avengers fans to this day 

The Gallery

Crossovers 

Holographic Cards (Fatal Attractions Covers) 

A30 (Pre-Bloodties) 

Spin-Offs and Limited Series

Posters and Poster Books

Other Merchandise

[tiredelirium]

D.17

Trying to think of the first character I fell in love with. Not meaning, like, ‘oh my god they’re the best ever’ but like actual ‘if they were a real person and I got to date them I’d be the happiest thing on planet earth’ typa love. It’s a hard remembering because my long term memory is actually abysmal.

If I had to settle on first fictional crush, I think it’d be Jessie and James from Pokemon, but I don’t think they’d make me the happiest, though I’d have a lot of fun with them and their hijinks. Even now if I see art of either of them, I can catch myself quickly fantasising without realising it at first.

Trying to think of all the media I’ve ever consumed and it’s hard to find that one character. I mean, what is an ideal fictional love really? It doesn’t exist and can never exist, because no matter what character you fell in love with or empathised with they’ll always just be a character.

You can personify them, style yourself after them, or find someone similar to them in some way, but it’ll never be truly real.

The human brain sucks sometimes honestly.

Though I suppose if you can’t even fall in love with something fictional, how can you ever fall in love with something real?

Imagination can be blinding, haunting and foreboding all at once. It can make your heart sing, your mind race, and your body dance to rhythms you didn’t even know possible.

Point is, I don’t know if I’ll ever remember the first character who made me feel that way. I’m certain there’ll be plenty more in my life though, because there has been plenty already. Rarely from movies, but a lot from games and animations for sure.

I’ve never been the type to care about celebrities in any way. I don’t know the names of the band-members in my favourite bands even. There’s a handful of popular names I’m aware of because of course you’re gonna know who Keanu Reeves or Emma Stone is with general knowledge. But I’ve never made it a habit or interest to be invested in their careers or lives at all. It’s their lives after all, they just chose to act, or voice act in some cases. Fame might’ve never even been a consideration.

I’d hate to have attention in that way. It might just be the introversion talking, but I think I’d die if too many people actively knew of me or what I was doing on a monthly basis. Which is ironic considering one of the first things I said in these journals is I wonder if others think about me.

I think I’d always stick to being as anonymous as possible. There are some great creators out there who take that as far as they can to keep their face or even real name out of media control. Yoko Taro and his masks for instance. Or even just pen names for authors who write smut and never wanted their real names tied up in the publishing process.

At one point in time I had several pen names in mind for if I ever published anything. Some are rearrangements of part of my name, or the full thing, to make ludicrous names. Thankfully I have a lot of letters to work with my full name, so coming up with strange ones and actual ones isn’t too bad.

I hope I use one of them one day. Even though I wouldn’t like fame, I would like people to read something I wrote in earnest. To hear their thoughts and opinions, likes and dislikes, criticisms both constructive and derivative.

Maybe one day I’ll get through this rut of stop gaps and hesitations, and distractions, and actually do something for others to read.

I hope this journal motivates me to that end.

A web serial would be fun, but a commitment I’m definitely not prepared for yet, mentally or emotionally.

On day though.

[rebrandedstoryline]

Rebranded - 16.2 - Preparations

Time to set up something cute! And learn a little tidbit about Ms. Ayala.

Only a lil over 1200 words.

“Author’s Copies?” Sun inquired, rightly curious. Was she holding on to these books on behalf of ‘Bella LaBete’?

“Yeah. Author’s get a special copy of their literature whenever they publish. It's sort of like an extra piece of proof to verify ownership of what’s been written.” Ayala explained, momentarily turning back to her laptop. She seemed to be responding to some sort of online discussion while maintaining the verbal conversation.

“Are you holding onto these for Bella?” Sun questioned, sort of idly pointing to the name plastered on the front cover. ‘Bella LaBete’. Shem was the one being credited as the Author of the book. The woman offered an abrupt but short lived laugh.

“No, Sun~ Those are my copies. I am Bella LaBete. That’s just a pen name I publish under.” Ayala explained, finishing up with whatever she was doing on her laptop. She then turned to flash a sort of coy smile at the now very confused animatronic. 

Sun rightly had no idea what a pen name was or why such a thing would exist.

“Look. Some people like to publish under a fake name. There’s lots of reasons to do it. I decided I’d go with Bella LaBete.” Ayala explained, once again swaying from side to side in her chair.  “It’s sort of an inside joke. It roughly translates to ‘Beauty and the Beast’. My real name is printed inside the book on the back of the cover. So if anyone ever comes looking for Bella LaBete, it’ll be easier to make it clear that she and I are the same person.” She elaborated, more or less summarizing to Sun what a pen name was. 

She never really gave an example as to why she’d need to use a pen name. But Sun had an idea as to why. She was probably trying to keep her background hidden. Anyone looking her up by name would find all sorts of unpleasant things. But anyone looking up Bella LaBete online would just find the books.

“Just try not to damage the books. It's tedious to try and get replacements.” She added, turning back around to resume her work. The animatronic offered a sort of confused hum, before smiling.

“Can do~!” Sun chimed, taking the book and putting it back in the box, before picking up the box. 

The next course of action was to see if Moon would be interested in storytime. As such, he carried the box of books over to the closet. 

Balancing the box in one arm, he gently knocked on the door to get his brother’s attention.

“What?” Moon called from inside the closet, his voice a sort of low growl. He sounded grumpy. Probably because he didn’t like being disturbed. Especially when he was in the closet. 

The solar animatronic offered a soft laugh, somewhat amused by how grumpy his brother was.

“Hey~ Logan brought over some books. Do you want to have a Storytime~?” Sun eagerly asked. He was excited at the idea of being able to read again. 

There followed a sort of metallic shuffling as the nighttime attendant moved about inside the closet. The door was eventually pushed open. 

Moon half stuck his head out.

“How do you intend on having a Storytime without kids?” Moon grumbled, slowly crawling out of the closet so that he could get to his feet. 

The question brought a sort of soft frown onto Sun’s face. He hadn’t stopped to consider that. He would usually read to the children. 

Ayala was busy, so he wouldn’t be able to coax her into letting him read to her; if she would even go along with the request to begin with. She had written these books. Chances were she had little interest in having someone read them to her. 

His solar rays began to sort of click in and out for a few seconds as he thought over his options, before a smile spread across his features.

“Well, we’ll just have to play pretend~” Sun replied, putting the box down for a moment as he began to look around. 

The house was still very much full of stuffed animals. Ergo, the solar animatronic picked up the nearest stuffy and held it up for his brother to see. He made the little toy wave by wiggling its arm with his fingers. 

That was admittedly all it took to get a soft sort of smile to spread across Moon’s features. Yeah. Okay. They could certainly play pretend.

What then ensued was a period of time where the animatronics roamed the house in search of any unattended stuffed animals. The acquired plushies were then carried to the upstairs bedroom. The empty one that was across from Elain’s empty room.

As the animatronics brought stuffies to the room, they began to sort of arrange them in neat little clusters. Larger stuffed animals were made to cuddle with groups of smaller ones. Little pretend families were arranged all around the floor near the unoccupied bed.

The bed was going to be where Sun sat when it came time to read.

Ayala, unsurprisingly, took notice of what the bots were doing. How could she not, when they kept going from room to room stealing her stuffed animals?

Thankfully she was more curious and amused than anything else.

“What are you two up too~?” Ayala questioned, lazily turning her chair about to catch the two as they began to pull the stuffed animals off of her couch. The two froze like deer in the headlights for a moment, seemingly afraid of getting in trouble.

“We need an audience for Storytime.” Moon responded, his voice somehow blunt and hesitant all at the same time. Maybe because he had been startled by her unexpected inquiry. 

A sort of soft laugh passed the woman’s lips.

“Well. Be sure to start with the right book. There’s a proper order to them~” Ayala hummed, turning back around to resume with her work. “Celestial Beginnings. That’s the name of the first book in the series.” She stated, more or less letting Sun know which book he should try to read first. 

An excited sort of noise escaped the daytime attendant, who was rather eager to read.

“Can do~!” Sun replied, before snatching up the stuffed animals he had come to steal. Moon did likewise. 

Following this, the two returned to the upstairs bedroom to finish arranging all of the stuffies. 

Once everything had been gathered, Sun began to look through the various books in the box. ‘Celestial Beginnings’ was indeed one of the books in the box. So that would be the book that he would read. 

Having found the book he needed to read, Sun made his way over to the bed and took a seat.

“Wait!” Moon abruptly blurted out, before darting out of the room. 

The solar animatronic was left sitting there, rather befuddled, for a few minutes. When Moon returned, he had Henry with him. The vacuum was carefully placed upon the floor in front of all of the stuffed animals. 

Moon then laid down among the stuffies, mindful not to crush any of them under his body. He wrapped his arms around Henry and brought his head to rest on top of the smaller machine, a small smile on his face.

“Alright~ Go ahead, Sunny.” He uttered, having finally decided that all essential listeners were now present. 

Sun laughed a bit to himself, admittedly finding it cute that his twin had gone out of his way to bring Henry up to participate in Storytime.

[readitreviewit]

Hold onto your hats, folks, because John Sandford is back with another action-packed thriller featuring our favorite crime-fighting duo: Lucas Davenport and Virgil Flowers. In this newest installment, the two detectives are faced with their toughest challenge yet, and it'll take all of their wits and guile to come out on top. The book, with its ASIN B0BRMJKZ97, is published by G.P. Putnam’s Sons on October 3, 2023. Coming in at a weighty tome of over 500 pages, the book has all the makings of a classic Sandford adventure: high stakes, pulse-pounding action, and unforgettable characters. As always, Sandford's writing is crisp and engaging, drawing the reader in from the very first line. His indefatigable wit and sly humor are on full display here, keeping the tone light even as the tension ratchets up to almost unbearable levels. But it's the characters that really make this book shine. Lucas Davenport, the tough-as-nails detective with a heart of gold, is as compelling as ever. His wry observations and quick thinking make him a force to be reckoned with, and it's always a pleasure seeing him in action. And then there's Virgil Flowers, Davenport's laid-back and unconventional partner. Flowers is a breath of fresh air in the world of hard-boiled detective fiction, a man who prefers fishing and rock 'n' roll to chasing down bad guys. But make no mistake, when it comes to solving crimes, Flowers is every bit as skilled as Davenport. Together, these two make an unbeatable team. Their dynamic is electric, with Davenport's gruff seriousness playing off Flowers' irreverent humor in the most delightful way. It's clear that Sandford has a real affection for these characters, and it shows in every scene they share together. But don't let the laughter fool you – this is a dark and twisty tale, full of murder and mayhem. Sandford's villains are some of the most menacing and cruel you'll ever have the misfortune to encounter, and the suspense is unbearable at times. It's the kind of book that will keep you up all night, feverishly turning the pages to see what happens next. One thing that sets this book apart from some of Sandford's previous work is its timely and topical subject matter. Without giving too much away, let's just say that the case Davenport and Flowers are working on is ripped from the headlines in the best possible way. It's clear that Sandford has done his research, and the way he weaves real-world issues into the fabric of his story is nothing short of masterful. Of course, no Sandford book would be complete without a healthy dose of Midwestern charm. The book is set in Sandford's beloved Minnesota, and the author's affection for his home state is evident on every page. From the descriptions of the landscape to the dialect of the locals, the book oozes with Minnesota flavor. It's a nice touch that makes the story feel all the more authentic. All in all, this is another winner from John Sandford. His ability to craft thrilling, character-driven stories is unparalleled, and fans of the genre will find plenty to love here. If you're new to the world of Lucas Davenport and Virgil Flowers, this book is a great place to start. And if you're already a fan, well, you're in for a treat. So grab a cup of coffee, settle in, and get ready for a wild ride. You won't be disappointed. "Ready to experience a captivating journey that'll take you on an epic adventure? Don't wait, grab your copy of [Book Title] today! Or, if you prefer to listen on-the-go, sign up for Audible's 30-day free trial and immerse yourself in the captivating world of [Author Name]. Get started now!" Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details)

[cherokeegal1975]

Still running my experiment to see what happens if I don't let this post get buried under everyone else's posts. Yes, this is an mpreg, but it's also a whole story. No, I'm not some weirdo. I just got inspired by an online dumpster dive around the time I was learning to find inspiration everywhere. Thought it would be a personal writing challenge to see if I could make a good story in this genera. I'm really more into regular sci-fi and fantasy. Sometimes mystery and suspense too. I can recommend quite a book list for people who have similar interests in literature. Ask me and I'll tell you and then you can check out those books if you choose to.

I chose a large golden talking rat as my main character's companion because it's nice to give an animal that normally doesn't get positive roles in stories...well, to be given a positive role in a story.

Anyway, here's the synopsis and it is published on Amazon:

Johnathan was a family man and cargo runner and had no interest in getting entangled in royal affairs. So, when a deposed and fleeing princess arranges a meeting to give him a package to keep safe, he was reluctant to take it. But she convinced him to hide the royal seal until she needed it back despite himself. Unknown to him, she had also ticked him into carrying another precious cargo. When Johnathan learns of the trick, he’s furious. When he confronts the princess about it, he learns it’ll be impossible to return it before it’s appointed time. Then she tells him of an unbreakable bond between them and ends a long search for someone he had lost as a boy. So, instead of revenge, he does what he can to help her. He must also avoid capture; the King would execute Johnathan if he ever found out about his secret cargo.

And...here's the link:

Unexpected Cargo: Smith, Meriah: 9781537355238: Amazon.com: Books

I'm using a lot of the hashtags I see online. Doesn't mean that this book is fetish fuel. It's not intended to be that. There's no man hating either. It's just a good story. That's all I intended. Simple as that. Mainly looking for honest feedback.

Someday I hope to go back to my illustration project purely for the fun of it. I liked the added challenge of doing my work in black and white. I might do both color and black and white later on for this book.

There is some graphic content in the book, but not much. Only put it in when it was organic to the story. I'm an intuitive writer. I barely needed to do any research for this book because I already had so much information in my head. I did do a little bit for the medical bits, a predatory bird that lives in the middle east and names for men's articles of clothing in the middle east because my main character is half Arabic. No reason for it, just popped in my head. It's a made-up desert place with mostly made-up customs. I guess I was thinking something like, desert; desert people; Arabic...sort of. His other half is Anglo because they invaded centuries ago in my story...which in a way happened in real life. I picked up bits of history from the History Channel and used it. LOL! Lots and lots of bits of data in my head! Plenty of material to use to make a good story. If my brain hadn't gone into several ruts I can't seem to get out of, I'd still be writing more stories. At least I have plenty of inspiration to draw with.

[readingforsanity]

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue | V.E. Schwab | Published 2020 | *SPOILERS*

France, 1714: in a moment of desperation, a young woman makes a Faustian bargain to live forever and is cursed to be forgotten by everyone she meets. 

Thus begins the extraordinary life of Addie LaRue, and a dazzling adventure that will play out across centuries and continents, across history and art, as a young woman learns how far she will go to leave her mark on the world. 

But everything changes when, after nearly 300 years, Addie stumbles across a young man in a hidden bookstore and he remembers her name. 

Adeline LaRue makes it to 23 years old living in Villon-sur-Sarthe in France. For years, she has gotten away with not marrying, while her friends all do, raising families. It isn’t until a man loses his wife, and begins looking for another than Adeline realizes that she is going to lose her life and become just another married woman, bound to her husband and the children he fathered by another. 

For years, Adeline, known affectionately as Addie by Estele, a woman in her village, has spent time praying to the gods. Not the new gods, but the old gods. She has sacrified loving items to these gods for her prayers to go unanswered. But, on the day of her wedding, under the impression that she forgot something at home, she takes off for the woods and begins to beg, beg any of them to listen to her and set her free. One answers: he is the darkness. And with this, Addie becomes a shell of her her former self. 

When the darkness goes away, Addie is sure that her prayer went unanswered again. But when she attempts to go home to her parents, they do not recognize her, and claim that they never had a child. The same goes for Estele, who claims to never have met her and Isabelle, her oldest friend, who treats her as a stranger running her out of her home. It is then, though it’ll take years to come to terms with it, that Addie realizes what has happened: she has sold her soul to the darkness, the devil, and while she won’t ever age a day until she surrenders, she is  bound to be forgotten by every single person she comes into contact with whenever she or they leave, or Addie is out of their line of sight. 

For 299 years, Addie has wandered the world, spending time in Paris, Florence, Munich, the United States...she has seen World Wars, inventions, black and white movies going into color. There isn’t anything that Addie hasn’t seen or done. Since she is so easily forgotten, she is able to get by in life as a thief, as most people won’t remember her moments after meeting anyway so long as she gets out of their line of sight. 

When she enters a hidden bookstore she had never seen before, she meets the one and only employee, Henry. She steals a book from him, and out of the kindness of his heart, decides to let her have it. Henry is exactly what the darkness looks like if he were a real human form. You see, the darkness has molded himself to be an imaginary man that Addie had drawn for years before her new life took over. And nearly every year on the anniversary of their deal, he has come to her. And over the years, she continues not to surrender to him basically out of spite. 

When Addie returns to the bookstore the next day to get another book, the young male employee remembers her. Addie is shocked to hear the words come out of his mouth. Nobody in 299 years has ever uttered those words with the exception of Luc. She doesn’t want to believe it, and thinks that he is making it up, but he does remember her. 

The two of them strike up a friendship, and eventual relationship. Addie sees how people are with Henry: they pull to him like there is some gravitational pull, men and women flirt with him at every turn. But Addie thinks nothing of it. She isn’t the jealous type after spending so many years of being forgotten. But, still, she thinks this is some sort of cruel joke. 

It isn’t until Henry takes her to meet his friends at a dinner party, despite them having met her before and she finally has to come out and tell the truth. For years, whenever she has attempted this, the thoughts and words have failed her, including saying her own name. Henry listens intently to what she is telling him, and she believes that Henry is going to realize she is a weirdo and leave. Instead, he laughs. He tells her that he too had made a deal. 

A few months prior, Henry was struggling with alcoholism and drug abuse. He asked his girlfriend of two years to marry him, and she said no, insinuating that he was never going to be good enough for her. Two years down the drain. He abandoned his friends and left his callls unanswered. It wasn’t until he sat down on his doorstep that he is introduced to Luc, or the darkness, who offers him a deal. Henry makes it. This deal is that he will always be wanted more than he intended to by everyone. 

Somehow, their two deals have cancelled out the other, making Henry the only one in the world besides Luc that remembers her. They spend several months together, exploring the city and doing things together. He never makes meetings with his friends awkward, always introducing Addie as if it were the first time they’ve met her. 

In July, on the 300th anniversary of her deal, Luc returns. He tells Addie that this was a ploy all along, and that he basically put them both of the path to each other because Henry’s deal isn’t the same as hers. Her is a lifetime, or until she surrenders and she will go peacefully. His was only made for a year, and then the real truth comes out: Henry wasn’t sitting on his doorstep when Luc approached him. He was attempting to commit suicide by stepping off the roof of his building, and Luc stopped him. The deal was made, and he had 12 months to do. Henry agreed because 12 months sounded like a long time, but now, they only have 36 days left with each other. 

Addie attempts to get Henry out of his deal. She goes back to Luc, and it is revealed in flashbacks (as is a lot of the story leading up to the point where you get to see many of hers and Luc’s interactions) that she and Luc were lovers for more than 20 years. But, he tells her that it was just a game to him, and that it was never really love. That was more than 30 years prior to the start of our story, and Addie hasn’t seen him since. But now, she is willing to do whatever it takes to keep Henry from a fate that he didn’t realize he was making. 

On the day his deal is supposed to be paid, they spend it together. When the time comes, Addie explains that she made another deal with Luc, that he will spare Henry his life if she goes along with him. But that he must remember her. When he awakes the next day, Addie is gone, and over a few months time, he writes a manuscript for a novel based on her life as told from the stories Addie made him write down in notebooks. It becomes a huge hit. 

When Addie comes in contact with the novel Henry wrote, she is thrilled, seeing her story on paper for the first time and the fact that others will learn of her as well. Luc is with her, and they seem to be happy together but Addie admits this was all a ruse to get herself out of her own deal. She is going to make him surrender. 

Discussion Questions: 

1. What are the best and worst things about Addie’s invisible life? What is the emotional toll of being unable to imprint herself on the heart and mind of another person? When does it give her an advantage? I think the best is that she can always have something new, even if it is for a short time. She can walk into any store, try on clothes and by the time she comes out, she is forgotten and can just walk out with what she has on, the salesperson or employee nonethewiser. While generally this isn’t a good thing, I think it’s amazing that she can be able to just come and go as she pleases without having to answer to anyone. But, the worst is that Addie lives an extremely lonely life. She is able to have lovers, and feel loved, but only for a short time until sleep or a small amount of distance is placed between them. 

2. Discuss the intense power struggle between Addie and Luc. What makes him such a master of seduction? How does Addie reclaim her power and agency over the course of the centuries? Over the centuries, Addie becomes stronger. The longer she is alive, the longer she has to know Luc and how he ticks. Which is why the ending of the book makes her such a genius. But, Luc wants to prove that he can wear her down, and she wants to prove that she won’t allow him too. It’s the perfect cat and mouse game, but they’re both cats. 

3. Addie slips into the homes (and even the clothes) of people from all walks of life. Which abode did you like the best? If Addie borrowed your house, what wuld she enjoy the most about the contents of your cupboards and your closets? Henry’s home was the best - because it was basically the first time she was able to come and go as she pleased and be remembered when she returned. That had to have been the best feeling even if it was for a short time. 

4. As we meet Addie’s many lovers, Remy stands out as the first man who lived up to her girlhood fantasies. On the magical night they met, Addie was dressed in a pair of trousers, a buttoned coat, and a tricorne hat. How did her disguise stroke their passion? It gave Remy a reason to approach her. I think this question is leading into whether or not Remy was attracted to men, and that very well could be. For centuries, sex wasn’t something out of love for many people, but just something people did. They could be married and be sexually active with their servants (think Spartacus TV show...). But to him, she was just a woman who wanted to disguise herself as a man in order to walk freely at night. Remy wasn’t as old fashioned as the time he was in, and this made him especially different than the others. 

5. Living without a bank account, phone or an address, Addie is reduced to pilfering and theft to quell her physical suffering. Is it a blessing or a curse that she only has to worry about momentary suffering, nor survival? What new appreciation do you have for the ordinary things you count on to make it through difficult times? She does have to worry about survival, though. Many nights she spent sleeping outdoors in all sorts of elements. While it definitely wouldn’t have killed her, she still could have gotten hurt in other ways. 

6. In Part 3, Chapter II, the author writes, “The time between Thursday night and Saturday afternoon is merciless, every second doled out with the care of an old woman counting pennies to pay for bread. Not once does it seem to quicken, not once does she lose track of it. She can’t seem to spend it, or waste it, or even misplace it.” How does the possibility of an infinite lifespan change the way Addie sees life itself? To Addie, a blink of an eye could take her years into the future. Not actually, but you get the gist. Time is nothing to someone who has lived as long as Addie has, and who has infinite amount of time at her disposal. But, when something as exciting as meeting someone who remembers her for the first time happens, time seems to slow down for her even though it doesn’t, it’s impossible. She just spends so much time being anxious to see Henry again, to see if it was actually real, that time seems to ahve basically stopped. 

7. Addie’s situation is transformed whens he steps into The Last Word for the first time. Discuss the role of the written word in her life. What does her taste in books say about her? What does it mean for her to be deprived of a lasting version of her own life story? Addie’s taste is similar to mine - she’ll basically read anything so long as she can understand it. She was able to essentially teach herself to read, as she had so much time in order to do so, and that is pretty significant for a woman from her time period originally. Education wasn’t something that was at the forefront of many women’s minds back then, only to keep a house and mother children. 

8. Belief plays such a central role in the narrative, specifically in the shaping of foundational identities, from the LaRue family’s rigid Christianity to Estele and her faith in the old gods, to Addie, whose belief in a fantasty shapes the physical representation of Luc, and Henry, whose loss of belief leaves him feeling lost. How does Estele’s immersion in the spirit world compare to Henry’s studious theology? Do you believe in the existence of gods that answer after dark? Do I believe in the existence of gods, like Luc? Sure. Am I going to answer this question deeply? No. I’m not a religious person by any means, but I know better than to go making deals with strange god creatures that only appear in the darkness, no matter how desperate I am. 

9. How do Addie’s and Henry’s deals with Luc complete each other (the freedom of eternal youth paited with perpetual impermanence; contast acceptance paired with the obliteration of the true self)? If you could receive one of their curses for just 24 hours, which would you choose? Have you ever been pushed so far to the brink that you might have made a deal with Luc? I would likely want Addie’s for the youth part, but obviously 24 hours doesn’t give me much time like it did for Addie. I’m not one for attention, like I used to be, so I think all the unwanted attention that Henry receives, despite wanting it so badly when he made the deal, would be a huge turnoff for me, and I’d end up more annoyed than grateful. 

10. As the chapters unfold from the seventeenth century to modern times, and as the novel oscillates between rural life and spectacular cities, what timeless universal aspects of human nature emerge? From warfare to popular culture, revolution to liberation, how much progress does Addie witness? To what degree does she also watch history repeat itself? Addie sees everything. Each time she returns home, due to the amount of time that has passed since the last, she has seen her home village turn into something completely different. From a near barren countryside to a bustling town. She has also seen the induction of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and she has seen the skyscrapers that now make up the skylines of our major cities. It is a wonderous thing, and I wish that there was actually someone who has seen all of this that lived to tell the tale. 

11. As the intention behind Bea’s project was revealed, what did you discover about power of art to preserve hidden truths? In what way is Addie’s identity written in the stars? Addie preserved herself in art created by others, and this gave Bea the thesis she was working on. After 9 tries, she was able to take the life that Addie LaRue lived, and turn it into something real despite her not knowing it was actually real. 

12. How did you react to the novel’s ending? What had you been predicting for Addie? I was a little peeved to be honest. I understand why Addie did what she did; she did what she had to do. But Henry was eventually going to not remember her, as humans do. Our memories fade with time. This is why he wrote the story of her life, so others would remember her. But, I predict that she and Luc will continue for any number of years until they get bored with each other, more specifically he will get bored with her and let her move on either in life, or take her soul and let her fade away completely. 

Questions provided by macmillian.com 

[brokskar]

Thanks for the tag!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

8. And counting.

2. What’s your total AO3 count?

If we’re talking words, 196,882.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

So far, I’ve only published Hetalia fics. I am currently working on some Ninjago stuff as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Calm After the Storm, Mise en Scène; when it rains, it pours; folly of men; when you go quiet

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I haven’t published it yet 🫢🤫

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Probably Nobody Will Love You (Like I Do). It’s a one-shot so there’s less room for me to ruin things emotionally, haha.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I have not written any crossovers. No shade to anyone who does, but I just can't get behind it.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope. Not my cup of tea.

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! When I first started publishing works, I didn't plan to, mostly because I wanted to be perceived as this mysterious, brilliant writer who just pops in to post some genius work and then disappear, never knowing when they’d return... But I learned quickly that that’s boring, and I much prefer to interact with anyone who takes the time to read and comment on my stuff. It builds community.

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don't think so? Nothing legit, anyway. Every so often I’ll see something and think “Now what was the point of saying that?” But I’m very grateful to those who comment encouraging and introspective things on my works. :)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't believe so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

There was an attempt that ultimately fell through, but I’m relatively positive that it’ll happen some day.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

If you’ve read any of my works, you know it’s DenNor. Literally the only thing I've ever written.

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but you don’t think you ever will?

Ugh. I want to write canonverse so bad. I’ve started to. Something deep and angsty about how horrible it is to be a nation, the immortality and all that... It’s been done before, and brilliantly too, I just don’t know if my perceptions will gain the traction that I want for it. And I’m never fully satisfied with how I write it either.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told I capture a lot of emotion in my writing. I always want to disagree, and to say that I could do so much better if I really tried, but I’ll take it, lmao. I personally like the way I write dialogue. I try to make things as real and natural as possible.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Transitions, in my opinion. Also acquiring the length I want. The chapters I post are never as long as I want them to be, but I can’t find a way to say everything I want to say all the time. So I just leave it.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I’m all for it if it’s done right! I’m very particular about how writers incorporate more than one language. I tend to copy the Markus Zusak route--in The Book Thief, he’d write German dialogue first, and then follow it up with an English iteration. For example: “Hva heter du?” he asked. “What’s your name?” Some may disagree, but I think it flows really well, and when it comes to fic, you don’t have to scroll to the bottom or have the flow interrupted with parentheses trying too explain things. It translates it right there in the story without taking you out of the story.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Technically Ninjago, when I was eleven. I didn’t post it anywhere. Then came Hetalia, when I was thirteen. Still didn't post anywhere. Hetalia was the first (and only) fandom I’ve published works for, starting in 2020.

20. What's your favorite fic you’ve written?

Good question! I really love when you go quiet. Very fun for me to write and I’m happy with the praise it received. I also like Nobody Loves You (Like I Do) a lot, and I’ll be turning that into a short series soon, so keep an eye out! 😋 I think I like my shorter works more, because I’m scared if I reread my chaptered works I’ll notice plotholes and other issues. 

Tagging: anyone who wants to play along! I’m horrible at tagging people!

Fic Writer Questions

Thank you for the tag :D @spinyfruit

1.) How many works do you have on AO3

34! they're mostly Oneshots and drabbles.

2.) What’s your total AO3 count?

208,218

3.) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Just Hetalia

4.) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. I call it a draw (Rochu/ Amechu)

2. Nerium Oleander (rusamechu)

3. We need to talk (Rochu)

4. Secret (Rochu and one sided Rusame/ Amechu)

5. Western pleasure (Rusame)

5.) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It's either Together (rusamechu) or I'll come back to you (RomeChu)

6.) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Sublime since Itapan is my comfort ship I usually write fluff about them

7.) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't done this o:

8.) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yeah, I have a couple of Oneshots and Nerium Oleander has smut too. I guess they can be described as explicit m/m, tough I think it's mostly Rusame or Rusamechu smut

9.) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to, sometimes I forget or just don't know what to say. I think it's nice to reply, as a reader I get happy when an author replies so...

10.) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Three of them. Nerium Oleander, I call it a draw and I'll come back to you were/are translated into Chinese (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)

13.) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet

14.) What’s your all time favorite ship?

The black triangle trio (rusamechu) and whatever pair comes out of it

15.) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but you don’t think you ever will?

We need to talk, idk I've reached the point of not knowing what's next in the story. It's probably the only fic I didn't really planned before hand, and it wasn't supposed to have multiple chapters haha

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I like to think that descriptions when it comes to settings and like the overall mood of the chapter/story is what stands out. Also I think I'm getting better at foreshadowing :D

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably pacing, I struggle to move forward certain parts sometimes, I don't usually plan or pay attention to the time within the story so it's pretty much vague.

18.) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I think it's pretty common in Hetalia fanfics, I did it a couple of times too. I think it's fun and it's a nice touch for a character who's native language is not English but as a writer I find it it's difficult to add it without butchering a language or getting overwhelmed by adding footnotes with the translation haha. If I were to write characters like Spain more often, I would totally do it.

19.) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Hetalia

20.) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Ahhh this is a hard question

I will say that Nerium Oleander because I am focused on finishing it and it's been very rewarding.

But White Flame is also my favorite because it's just me having a bunch of fun with words and world building.

Tagging:

@darcymariaphoster @crumpled--notes @magictrio1118 @fireandiceland @koolkat9 if you want to~

[jolyneslut]

Lemon shampoo — ft. Suna Rintarou

pairing: Suna Rintarou x fem!reader

au: fake dating

summary: you're two idiots in love 🫶

warnings: kinda gets suggestive for a little, lots of thoughts and little dialogues

notes; this is the first fic im publishing so im a bit nervous 🙁🙁 hopefully it gets some love!! sorry if there are any mistakes i tried to reread many times but english isn't my first language so you never know. enjoy‼️

A hand on her lower back and the other holding her wrist to prevent her from falling. Just a few inches apart, all she smells is lemon shampoo.

"Easy there, be careful." Suna says.

Y/n couldn't even comprehend what was going on. Smell of lemon all around her and his breath lingering on her lips. If she moved just a bit they would kiss, that was the only thing her brain could process. That was Suna's effect on her. And she wasn't supposed to be feeling like that. She wasn't supposed to be feeling like he was her whole world. Like there wasn't anything else but him. She was down bad from the very first kiss on the forehead followed by a "Hey, love." from Suna when they first started "dating". "Dating" yes, because they were just fake dating. It was just acting, so why was she feeling real butterflies in her stomach whenever he would even just graze her or look her way? It was just acting... the hand holding, the pet names, the cuddling, the sharing earphones. At first, Y/n thought it would be easy to be a pretend girlfriend to help a friend. Now tho, now she feels like the best option she has is run away, change school, move city, get a new identity and never see Suna again, because it's too difficult to feel his love and realize it's fake and that it'll be over soon. And Suna wouldn't have the time to question anything because she would simply not exist anymore. So that sounds like a good plan, but she doesn't run away. Because even if it's so difficult she doesn't want it to end yet, so maybe she should at least wait for him to call it off. Maybe she should get all the love she can from him, till it last. So she decides to stay for a bit more, to keep helping her friend and certainly not because she hopes for something more. And certainly not because she couldn't stand not seeing Suna ever again, if she really thinks about it that sounds like the worst idea ever. She would rather not being born at all than never seeing him again.

So a simple "Thanks for catching me." is what Y/n goes for.

He's still holding her close, and it doesn't seem like he intends to let her go anytime soon.

"Can i kiss you?" Suna asks basically whispering as if not to scare her off.

Y/n feels like her heart would burst out of her chest at any moment now. She feels like trying bungee jumping would feel less exciting than whatever is going on right now. She tries to say something, anything, but nothing comes out of her mouth. Her heart is beating so fast she's really scared she's having a serious case of tachycardia.

"You can say no..." he says.

"NO!" she screams, her eyes widen and she shakes her head rapidly "No! I mean, Yes!" she takes a deep breath, "Yes, you can."

Suna laugh before getting closer to her, he moves his hand from her wrist to cup her face and then he puts his lips on hers. He takes a few steps forward until her back hits the wall. Y/n puts her arms around his neck and pulls him closer. His hands start wandering her body, her back, her waist.

She feels out of breath but she can't stop kissing him so she waits for him to stop. And when he does, he's quick to kiss her again because she's the best thing he has ever tasted and her lips are the softest he's ever touched. And because he's waited way too long to only kiss her once.

So he covers her up in his kisses and he touches her all over. He goes back to her lips and pulls her hair a bit by the nape, a moan escapes her mouth and oh wow if that isn't the most beautiful sound he has ever heard in his life then he doesn't know what it is. He nips at her bottom lip and then slips his tongue in. His hand still tangled in her hair keeping her in place. She can't believe this is actually happening. If it's a dream then she hopes to never wake up. She feels weak in her knees. Quite literally. Because she almost drops to the ground as she doesn't feel her legs anymore. Suna is fast to grab her thighs and put her legs around his torso to hold her up, "Falling for me, love?".

Y/n rest her head on his shoulder, "Shut up. You're the one who wanted to kiss me.".

Suna knows he has no right making fun of her. Not when he's the one who asked her to be his fake girlfriend for a while and fell in love right after, when she grabbed his hands and said "Sure." while smiling at him. And not when he's the one with heart eyes whenever she greets him in the morning at school. And not when he's the one that now can't sleep anymore if she's not next to him. And also not when he's so clingy with her, forehead kisses, hugs, or even just brushing his hand with hers when they walk close to each other, he's always touching her one way or another as if he was standing on a cliff and that was the only thing keeping him from falling.

"That's true." Suna says as he lays her down on the bed.

She smiles and tugs at his sleeve, "Lie down with me."

They lie down facing each other, his arm lazily thrown over her waist.

"Goodnight, my love." Suna says.

She rest her head close to his chest and all she hears is his heartbeat and all she smells is his lemon shampoo.

[bangtanfancamp]

Try Again | KNJ

summary:  Got guy trouble? Of course your best friend Namjoon is the perfect person to talk to about it. It just ... doesn’t go at all how you expect it to. Maybe that isn’t the worst thing though.

•masterlist

•one shot

•pairing: Kim Namjoon x Oc

•genre: best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, smut, fluff, comfort, slice of life

•word count: 11.5 k

•rating: MATURE (18+)

•warnings: oh quite a plethora today, friends. Language.  Very much smut. Soft smut. Lots of heart and connection, but definitely very much smut. No way around that. Vaguely stream of consciousness in that there is a plot but IS there a real plot? I’m an INFP. Who knows. Also, idk, trauma processing? Mental Heath is a lot of work, friends. Anxiety. Fear? Dishonored boundaries. Sort of infidelity but not really? It’ll make sense when you read it. Sucky breakups and questionable relationship dynamics. Frank discussions of how freaking weird it can be to navigate sex, physical intimacy and relationships. hopefully heartfelt conclusions. astrology , loose mythology interpretations and Nikita gill poetry references. Super flirty friends who don’t realize they’re oversharing and super flirty until well after they’ve gone and become soulmates.

•authors note: I really don’t know what the flip this is, but I’ve been picking at it nonstop these last few days, and I really just want to post the dang thing to get it out of my Google docs and stop looking at it. It’s very much unedited and being published at 3am. We’re processing how hard being a human is a lot lately, and I really just think it would be easier with Namjoon as a friend

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“Namjoonie?”

With wide eyes, you swing around the doorframe of his studio, your half up ponytail swinging in tandem as you do.

He smiles at his screen, lips widening and dimples seeping into the soft dough of his cheeks as he laughs. He doesn’t look your way, but you know you have his attention.

“Yes, y/n?” he hums.

You feel yourself light up at the laughter in his voice when he says your name. He doesn’t seem like he’s bothered by your interruption in the slightest. In fact, He sounds rather...happy. Even you can easily tell. You’re so glad to see the warmth in his eyes, the easy chuckle in his shoulders and upturned twist in his lips. You feel your own grin swell with relief at the open way he welcomes you. It fills you with confidence enough to plunge ahead.

“Can I ask you something?” Your head tips sideways coyly as you watch him through your fluttered lashes.

“Aren’t you asking me something now?” He chuckles, leaning back in his seat with eyes fixed on his monitor screen.

“You know what I mean, Joonie,” you nudge your pointer finger deep into the well of his cheek. “I’m being serious,” you giggle.

“I can see that,” he flicks a sideways glance your way, mirth spilling from the corners of his full lips. “Well, C’mon then, out with it- what is it? Just ask me.” He acquiesces, looking up at you finally.

His brown eyes swim with camaraderie and warmth as he pulls you into his lap. You tumble down into him with an oof as his long arms wrap their way around you. You can feel his fingers along your waist, playing with the hem of your blousy crop top, occasionally brushing the skin beneath as you beam up at him. You feel both secure in his grip and happily flustered at his attention— it’s a delightful cocktail for a Tuesday afternoon really— both your smiles seem ever growing as his touch continues.

“Joonie, you’re gonna distract me,” you giggle as his button nose drags along your neck. It should be an odd occurrence, but it isn’t. It’s just you and Joonie.

“Like you’re distracting me?” He teases, voice deep as his warm breath tickles your skin.

“Touché. But I’m serious! So you have to give me a serious answer.” You enforce, gripping his shoulder firmly. He flexes his arm and you roll your eyes, even if some far off part of you loves every second of it.

“Ugh, fine.Okay. Okay. I’m here. I’m calm. I’m serious,” he nods firmly, clearing his throat, and pulling back into his seat, subtly pulling you with him until you’re bracing yourself against his solid chest. “See? We’re serious. Serious face.” He twists his face into a frown, dipping his brows and angling his chin until his jaw is clenched, tongue in his cheek in mock displeasure as you reach to happily tap the tip of his nose.

“Excellent. Yes. Focused. Let’s attempt this, shall we?” You wiggle to settle yourself, laughing when his hands immediately grasp your hips to still them. He cocks an eyebrow your way in warning, sharing a look only the two of you know, before smiling so wide his beautiful chocolate eyes fully disappear behind his eye crinkles. You both laugh happily, breezing easily past the moment, until Namjoon reigns his giggles  in. Once again clearing his throat, he tips his head your way in instruction.

“Come on. What is it?” His eyes are still sparkling, but his face is now serene, studious even.

Smiling so wide you feel your cheeks begin to ache, you run delicate fingers through the bits of hair falling into his face. Your fingertips trace over his cheeks and across the full swell of his chest, sighing dreamily as you do so. How come affection always comes so easy with him?

“You’re simply the best, d’you know that?” You whisper, elation in your eyes.

He blushes, his happy face scrunching tight as he licks his lips and avoids your gaze. Burying his face in your collarbone he mumbles,”is that what you’re here to say?”

“No. In fact, not at all actually,” you giggle. “I just felt like telling you. Got a bit off topic once I got here, I guess.”

You dip to kiss the top of his swirled hair, lavender lychee and yuzu greeting you in unison in his freshly shampooed tresses. Scrumptious. He breathes soft through his nose in a happy exhale as you do, snuggling you close into his arms as you settle in his lap.

“How may I be of service, Jagiya?” He presses a soft, welcome kiss to the back of your hand before pulling back to meet your eyes. Such a silly boy.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I have the oddest thing to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot.” He nods, licking his lips and concentrating on whatever it is you’re about to say next. You’re tempted to laugh at his sudden, eager composure, but you know it’ll only get you both further off track, so you swallow your giggles for now instead , hiding them somewhere precious and sweet until it’s time to properly collect them.

“Okay, here goes.”

Wistfully, you throw your arms lazily over his broad shoulders and look towards the light installation overhead, some modern, angular thing he had installed last year when he renovated the studio.

“So!” You begin, “things with the boy have been so much better the last few weeks.”

His eyes light up, “Yeah? Have they?” He smiles warmly when you nod. “Do we like this one?’

“Sort of? I think? I mean, I don’t quite know. It’s only been a handful of dates, but I think it’s going... good,” you assert.

 “Y/n, that’s so good.”

“Right? Isn’t it?”

“I’m so happy for you. I’ve noticed your spirit’s seemed up lately. I was really hoping that was why,” he beams.

“Oh, you’re such a love, joonie.” Endeared that he noticed, you happily pinch his cheeks. Normally, he would shirk anyone else away immediately for doing such a thing, but his soft spot for you is unparalleled these days, so he refrains from disturbing you as you continue. “I was so worried a few weeks ago, Joon. Things felt like such a mess. I felt like such a mess, but did you know, Joon, this guy...he’s been so sweet. So good to me. It almost has me wondering, did you say something to him?” You squint inquisitively, bumping the tip of your nose against his. His grin flashes wider as he taps back against yours before kissing your cheek and pulling back to mime zipping his lips.

“Who me?” He mumbles through a closed mouth.

“Yes, you, silly.” You swat. “Who else knows me as well as you do? I didn’t think this dramatic a turnaround was possible. He’s so thoroughly improved after those first two bungling dates that it’s almost suspicious. You’re sure you haven’t given him a y/n 101 cheat sheet? How is he an honor student all of a sudden when he was on the verge of being expelled a few weeks ago?”

“Oh come now. Please, you were never going to expel him,” he challenges, leveling you with a look as his thumb glides its way along your rib cage. It makes you shiver, smile and pull him closer.

“Okay, okay, send him to summer school at least. Just a little remedial work…or detention, perhaps? I don’t know. Early Retrograde was really aggressive okay? Things were looking pretty grim.” You grimace with a shoulder shrug.

“In Gemini too. Miscommunication and frustration just rampant.” He makes mock explosions with his hands as you tip back abruptly in his lap. It makes you yelp before he’s leaning forward, scooping you securely against him and tutting in derision at you for your lack of faith in him. “Settle down. I always forget what a jumpy little bunny you are. You really think I was going to drop you?”

“I mean, I’ve seen you fall out of an office chair all on your own without my help, so yeah, it is a concern.”

“Touché. I always forget you know me that well. As you were saying,” he blushes, all six foot something of him turning sheepish as he does.

“Yes, I was. Where was I? Oh! The boy! Namjoon, you wouldn’t believe how thoughtful he’s been.”

“Really?”

“Goodness, yes. It’s been a rather miraculous turnabout altogether really. You told me to give it room to breathe, and I did, and all of a sudden we're flourishing now ” You beam.

“Wow, that really is something.” Namjoon’s happy for you. Really he is, but there’s something in his gut that feels the slightest bit… off.  So he eyes you steadily as you talk, studying for the facial ticks that give you away when there’s something you still have to say. 

Sure enough, he sees it there, lurking in the shadows swimming in the depths of your irises. It’s staying pretty far back, as if it believes it’s camouflaged deep enough behind your eyes that it’s successfully hiding from him. But he knows better. He knows you better.

He pauses to see if you’ll bring it up yourself, and when you don’t, he pushes ahead.

“So, how have things been in… you know… that other category,” he shirks, wishing he’d found a more graceful way to word that.

“What other… oh. You mean? Yes. That one,” you settle your grip on Joon’s firm shoulders, right in the dip between his collar and the rounded swell of muscle capping his shoulders off, “Well, you see, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Joonie. I needed to get another perspective.”

“Do tell.”

“Perfect. I need your perspective as a guy.” You nod.

“Do my best.”

“Joonie, do you ever get shy when you’re with a girl… you know, intimately?”

“Intimately? Now? No. When I was younger? Yeah, sure. Why?”

“Do you remember what you were you thinking...back then?” You tip forward, eyes all curiosity. His brows tip up, a bit surprised by how personal this is getting, but the two of you have very few things you keep off the table. He supposes it’s a fair question.

“Well, for me, at the time at least, I was probably thinking that a woman's body is honestly the most finely tuned, delicately crafted piece of technology in the entire world and as much as I wanted to literally dive face first into exploring it, I was kind of terrified of doing it wrong.” He shudders, wide eyed, as the anxiety of it ripples comically through his entire body.

“Huh, really? How wild. I mean, I guess that makes sense. What were you so afraid of though? Isn't it just a simple matter of questions and paying attention?” You cock your head sideways, half pony flopping to the side.

“I mean, sort of?  But honestly, it’s also really complicated. It is just that, but it’s also a lot more than that. There are questions and there is paying attention, but you also have to get the timing and mood just right….You have to be connected with each other- which requires more emotional intelligence than you’d think, might I add….You have to be able to read her body language and predict her non verbal cues…Have to potentially be fluent as a therapist to help coach her through any lingering or buried trauma that might come up along the way.... Have to be her specific version of attractive and be authentically yourself all at once....

You have to seduce her, support her, please her, love her- be the leader, the guide and the recipient all in one. It’s a hell of a lot actually. And that’s all without even introducing any moral or spiritual implications. Don’t even get me started on all that- we’ll be here til nightfall. But yeah, it encompasses a lot on the guys' part, actually, to make it all worth your time and his. You can’t just be a good technician, you know. It’s not like being a good chef. It's not formulaic like a recipe. I mean, you can follow every pre-laid  step and still get it wrong honestly.  It’s intuitive and demanding, but really rewarding.. if you get it right...which is harder than you think.  It’s honestly a lot more like being an empathic super hero. Even if you can read your partner inside and out, You have a job to get done too. The catch is that even if you read them and support them, you still might not accomplish your common goal together.”

“Jesus, joonie, so cerebral.” You tease, flicking his temple.

“It’s a curse, I know.” He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I mean, kind of not though. I love hearing your dissertations. They’re why I stopped by in the first place.”

“Did that help?”

“Sort of? I guess I hadn’t realized how much the guy has to account for.  Maybe I’m being unfair.” You look so glum, so lost in thought as you process all that Namjoon has laid out before you. He made lots of points that you’d never actually considered before , and now you feel a bit dumb, or at the very least more naive than you would have thought before you knocked on his door. “Still. It’s just…I get..annoyed when this guy doesn’t lead. Like, in the moment, you know? It’s like he’s waiting on me and we both don’t know what to do, but I guess no one really teaches a guy how to huh?”

“Ooo God, no, that’s another topic altogether, but yeah, guys are expected to be these inherently prodigious, natural born love gods, even without having any sort of experience at all, but they’ll get judged if they do the research so it’s pretty lose-lose. That whole master class worth of intel I just mentioned is supposed to be considered the base level package, but no one gives any training or instruction so every guy’s just sort of jabbing around in the dark by himself, hoping for the best... it’s a lot of pressure, honestly. But this is all predicated on him being a good guy who’s actually worth your time and really values you trying his best. There are so many others who have zero self awareness who just cause more harm while legitimately having no clue, and beyond that, the shitty ones who are just selfish and awful with an awareness of it.” His face scrunches as he really sits back and lets it wash over him. He mindlessly runs his fingers over your hips as he processes it all.

“So, are women wrong to think the right man for them will inherently be able to read them? Or that, if he can’t get it right, that maybe he’s not the one for them?” When your eyes meet his, there’s so much vulnerability shining in them that Namjoon feels like he’s looking directly at the sun. You look beautiful and unguarded, and some part of him hates that this guy has disappointed you. “Anytime it doesn’t go smoothly, I wonder if I don’t like that particular act or if it’s just my partner and then I feel like I’m putting too much pressure on him or like I’ve drank too much of the mass media expectations kool-aid. Whatever the reason is, I feel lousy all around.” You confess with chagrin.

Namjoon lets out a low whistle as he takes the thought in. “You know, I’ve had a lot of good friends be … relieved of their title, if you will... for things like that. I don’t really know the answer if I’m being honest. I think yes, your ideal partner should be sexually compatible with you, or at the very least have good physical chemistry with you, but no ones a complete mind reader. Even if you're perfectly matched in the stars and on every compatibility platform, that still doesn’t account for individual personal preferences, dialects of love languages, life experience or individual traumas...”

“Phew, that's a lot,” you scrunch your face in distress.

“I know, right? It’s a crazy amount of factors to keep in mind all in all, especially considering that the heart of it should be organic and intrinsic. It’s hard to stay in your body and out of your head with all that, but at least there’s naked tits involved, so there’s sort of that, right?” He shrugs cheekily, tongue out as you smack him.

“I told you to be serious!” you laugh.

“I am! Bare tits are a seriously soothing motivator for a stressed out guy who wants to pleasure you. I mean, think about it- he’s under the pressure of trying to both avoid accidentally blowing his load prematurely and disappointing you by not being man enough and avoiding accidentally getting you pregnant or getting lost in his own experience by being too much. And this is all of he’s a good guy who actually cares about you. There are so many more messed up motivations if he’s only in it for himself,” Namjoon shudders. “Ultimately, sex is supposed to be this penultimate pleasure, yes, but the stakes are, in fact, outrageously high if you really think about it.” His eyes go a bit wide.

“Crikey, that’s rough.” You cringe. He snickers at your phrasing and you smack him away as you tell him to shut up. “Anyway do you think all that is why the boy’s been acting up as of late?”

“How so?”

“Did I ever tell you he’s a Scorpio?”

“Oh yeah? Wait—One who doesn’t ravage you on the daily? Really?”

“Yeah. I know. It’s a weird thing to wrap your head around isn’t it? He’s a Scorpio with a ton of Virgo in his chart actually.”

“Oh you’re joking. So he’s the inverse of me?” He’s not sure if that’s actually how astrology works, but it’s too similar not to be alarming. He wonders why his heartbeat quickens at the idea of you liking someone similar to him in any way. It’s dumb. He already knows how compatible you and he are. It’s why you’re currently sitting in his lap asking him to help solve your guy problems. Still though...

“Yyyyup. Precisely.” You quip, popping the p, and he tries to refocus.

“Ooof okay, so we’re dealing with... a Perfectionist, yes?” He looks to you for guidance, settling into a smile when you nod in assent. “Yes. Probably also absurdly talented, thinks he’s a planner but really, just likes to be the boss. Likes things to be in order and… supposedly a beast in the sack.” He adds with a little swell of confidence. He’s on the cusp of a wink when you interrupt him.

“Ah, see now that’s the bit we need to discuss.” You tap his pec.

“Does he have an unsatisfactory bit?” His brows rise dramatically. He makes air quotes with one hand as his eyes drop to his own hips, currently housing you as a chair, and rolling them up so you bounce where you sit. You giggle and blush and swat at him, telling him to focus.

“Well, that’s the thing, I don’t actually know. Because he never seems to use it.”

“Hmm. A real sticky spot huh? I really wish I could help, but Every man is so different, even with astrological similarities. I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” He offers honestly, his brows tipping softly with chagrin.

“I know, but I’ll take any advice you have for me. I mean, Joonie, I’ve been so pretty lately, and he’s not even trying to get some of me. He barely even comments about me!” You whine.

“Really?” Namjoon seems a bit flabbergasted, his beautiful features painted in shock.

“Really really.”

“But you’ve been such a babe lately! Your whole ‘hot girl summer’ manifesto really has you radiating these days,”’he offers.

“Thank you,” you beam, flipping your hair over your shoulders.

“I mean, you’ve been working really hard to take care of yourself— I can see the difference in your pretty little face.” He runs a thumb beneath the natural curve of your cheek to emphasize his point. “And Your boobs have looked beautiful lately, might I add. So soft, so full.”

“Awww, you’ve noticed?”

“I have. I mean, You’ve been going braless around the apartment on the regular these past few weeks— and  they’ve got such great movement, they’re hard to ignore, really.” He’s really stretching the boundaries of his best friend card right now and he knows that, but it is true. Lucky for him, you’re too busy being glad someone finally noticed to be upset about any lines he might be crossing. He’s so emboldened by it that he decides to press his luck just a little bit further. “May I?”

He extends a hand to hover above your chest and you bristle with delight.

“Oh please do, Joonie. Someone ought to be enjoying these marvelous splendors.” You shake your head annoyed, but preen with happiness when he follows through.

Carefully, Namjoon reaches to grasp one over your shirt, his massive palm gentle as he does. He looks a little in awe at the way the malleable orb morphs and reshapes itself against his hand.

“Splendor’s a great word for them. They’re sort of thing poets could fill whole books about. How is he not enamored by them? I’d bury my face between them and never come up for air.” He states plainly, eyeing them like a soft place to land.

“See that’s what I thought too. Not to be arrogant or anything but—“

“Confidence is not arrogance,” he corrects.”You’ve worked hard to be nice to yourself. Give yourself a compliment every once in a while.” He reluctantly lets go of your breast, and shoves his shoulders up in an easy generous gesture encouraging you to move ahead, so you do.

“Thank you, joonie. I just… I can see my progress. I was mean to myself for such a long time, but even I can tell I’m getting prettier and prettier these days, and he’s even admitted, himself just how soft and warm I feel.”

“So what’s the problem then?” Joon looks bemused as he strokes the newfound definition in your thighs from all your recent cardio workouts. “It can’t possibly be that he doesn’t like your outside because your figure these days is INSANE.” He clutches a massive hand against the apex of your thigh for emphasis, swallowing back a growl when his grip meets the muscle you hide beneath your softness there.

“Joon, you’re such a flirt,” you bat his hands away, hiding your face instead.

“You’re such a delight- I’d be a fool not to be,” he shrugs, hoping he’s doing a good job of hiding how genuine all this affection really is.

“Well, tell him. He keeps psyching himself out.”

“Yeah? How so?” He asks, genuinely inquisitive as he slips down and settles in his chair, careful to hold you steady as he gets settled.

“I know how bad he wants me. I can feel his… you know,... growing against me when we kiss, or twitching when it gets stimulated… but it’s like he keeps taking his foot off the accelerator and we never get anywhere.Like maybe he doesn’t really...” want me are the words you’re too afraid to say.

Namjoon’s brows fold and dip. “What do you mean? What happens?” He tenderly brushes his fingers over the fold of your hip as he listens.

“I mean, he’ll make these offhanded comments that I can tell are actually 100% genuine—I mean they aren't even remotely subtle— about the way he very much wants me in his bed, but the second I reciprocate or even lean in and let him initiate, he almost immediately pulls himself back.” You wave your hands, baffled.

“Like how so? Can you show me?” He wonders what’s gotten into him, why he keeps pushing to see how far you’ll let him go with this. Maybe the heat’s getting to him. Whatever his reasons, you seem too preoccupied with the problem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. He chalks it up to your absurdly high level of physical comfort with him after years of living together, if he had to guess, because you follow through with his request without a second thought.

“Sure. Here. It always winds up going something like this…”

You lean forward, turning your performer on and eying him a wickedly gleeful sparkle in your eyes, tongue running over your teeth ,”God, I just want to impregnate you right now,” you pant, one hand twisting the bunched fabric of his t-shirt as you drag your nose against his. You can feel his breath hitch through his open mouth despite the sarcasm that spills from it.

“I’m not sure that’s how this works actually …. anatomically.” He corrects, even as his palms shift to grip the arms of his chair, his natural preemptive response to brace himself when he can tell you’re about to rile him up.

“Don’t be snarky, Joonie, you know I don’t have the patience for that,” you warn as your open mouth dips to the column of his throat. You drag your lips across it, disconnecting your brain to dive in with gusto, skimming along the warmth of his honeysuckle skin and revelling in it. You never kiss him, just hover, but your hands grow more insistent as your breath glides over his neck, only to reach his mouth again and fully decelerate, abruptly and with no explanation.

Your kiss his cheek disheartenedly, your touch devolving into something slow and sentimental, borderline regretful as you begin to fully pull away. You cap it all off by kissing his nose once and placing an oddly mature, smacking peck to his confused mouth for half an instant, but when he looks up at you, you keep smiling fully, blissfully—even into the edges of your eyes— as you pull away, as though all is right. Everything about your body language signals that the moment is done before it ever began by pulling him deeply into a plush, platonic hug, wrapping your arms smoothly around his shoulders and rubbing his back.

Namjoon’s woozy, baffled face is pressed against your neck in this embrace until only his inquisitive eyes are visible. He glances at you sideways even though all he can see is your hair.

“Seriously? That’s what he’ll do?” His voice comes muffled through the fabric of your blousy top, but his confusion is evident regardless.

“More or less. Honestly maybe a little less,’ you smile grimly. “i jazzed it up a little for the show.’

“Oh Jesus. And then he’ll just… stop like that and stare at you like a marionette doll, and you’re supposed to be okay with it?”

He hasn’t felt this befuddled in ages. You flop back in his lap, abruptly releasing him. He adjusts his jaw with his hand to soothe the way it’d been yanked around in your grip.

“Apparently,” you flail.

“Bizarre. Okay. We’ll circle back. But… let’s unpack this first: don’t you hate neck kisses as foreplay? You mentioned that before: how many guys have slobbered all over your throat like they thought it was hot and you just .. felt like a dog toy, right?

“Yes, yes, yes, to all of the above,” you sigh.

“But…help me understand. You’ve told him that right?

“Several times. Before I ever dated him actually.”

“So shouldn't he know?”

“I know.” You nod.

“Don’t you hate hickeys?”

“I. Do. Yes,” you clap between phrases for emphasis, grateful Namjoon gets it.

“The only time it ever seemed like something you might have been into was that one Fourth of July party. You know, the one where we both had too many strawberry margaritas and I,” he clears his throat.“Well, I mean, you almost beat me with a spatula when you realized I’d left one without checking with you first.”

Your belly pools with something molten at the memory. Namjoon had surprised both of you that night when he’d leaned over beside you where you both sat in the grass and begun kissing your throat. You’d been surprised, but Namjoon had always been sweet and good to you and was apparently, good with that full mouth of his as you’d learned that night, so you hadn’t stopped him.

 The problem was that any pleasure you’d had had been immediately eclipsed by your fearful realization, even in your hazy margarita brain, that you had work the next morning, it was summer and you wouldn’t have sufficient makeup or clothes to cover it up. Not to mention how hideously unprofessional a hickey like that would have been to the manager who already hated you at the time. You were already the low point on the totem pole. You didn’t need any help and besides, a neck hickey at an office job wasn’t going to fly. What were you, sixteen? You’d made Namjoon pay for your concealer the next morning and had teased him for his drunk behavior constantly ever since. You just never bothered to tell him that no one else had ever managed to affect you quite like him… before or since.

Clearing your throat, you bundle the memory up and swiftly put it back up on the top shelf.“That I did. But when you did it, and even in the past the one time he did it, it had at least been pleasurable, you know? I could feel your tongue and the suction…. it was something I could melt into. Turn my brain off. But now, He does this weird thing where his lips get really articulate, and there’s no tongue. Like zero tongue. He’s just jabbing at my throat with these, like, lip fingers, and Somehow, he doesn’t pick up on my aversion. Like I’m literally retreating from him like a turtle into my shell, and it’s just so unpleasant. But I mean, I’ve already verbally told him I don’t like it and I pull away, so I don’t know what there’s left for me to do.” You huff all in one breath.

“Just like those other things you told him you don’t like?” Namjoon offers, a glum smile painting his lips.

“Yeah…. “

“Is he still not getting those boundaries either?” He says sadly, not for his sake but for yours.

You sigh, irritated in every way. “No, he’s not. I’m getting so annoyed with it all, really. I keep telling him what my preferences are, and he just keeps acting like I haven’t said anything but seems stumped when I leave an interaction with him being kind of bitchy.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I get really passive aggressive with him, and the night just... tanks.” You lean into Namjoon’s chest, resting your cheek beside his neck. “But I mean, what else is left when he ignores direct communication? It’s infuriating,” You gesture glumly with swirling hands.

“So, you’re sure you’ve laid it all out for him?”

Your anger flares at his accusation. Whipping your head toward him, you can feel magma rising up your throat, fully on the brink of lashing out at him. 

“What kind of question… of course I Ha-“ 

But the second you see his eyes, you remember who he is. Who you’re talking to. You remember that Namjoon would never accuse you, he’s simply asking you a question- there’s nothing loaded behind it. Raking your hands over your eyes, you apologize.

“I’m sorry…. I don’t know what came over me… this topic just makes me mad…. I forgot…”

“Shhhh,” he cradles your face, thumbs light across your skin. “Hey, look at me.”

When your eyes meet his, Namjoon’s soft brown eyes do nothing but smile back at you. The look in them is gentle and warm and you know he’s about to say something wise.

“His words and touches are confusing you, aren’t they?” He offers with a sad smile. One so comforting that all you can bring yourself to do is nod back to him. “It sounds like- from my outside perspective here- that You feel like you don’t have clarity on what’s happening to your emotions or your body. Which sounds pretty shitty honestly. I know you, Y/n. The signals this guy is giving you are all over the place, but at the end of the day, all of them wind up making you feel disrespected and undesired, and you especially need to be respected and desired.”

You drop your head and sigh. “I don’t know why it’s so strong though. I feel crazy. I feel like I ask him all the time to tell me if he thinks I’m pretty because he won’t do it on his own.”

“That frustrates you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really does. It took me such a long time to get my confidence back after the last guy. I finally realized I’m worth being fawned over. I’m not perfection, but I am well and above deserving having someone at least verbally appreciate me. I can be absolutely stunning when I want to be. And his disinterest, or even worse, his moderate interest infuriates me.” You look down ashamed.

“Why is that, you think, baby girl?” Namjoon hooks a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you’re looking back at him.

“Because I hate being ignored.” You answer honestly, and it surprises you.

“There it is. Why do you think that is?”

“Because I’m stunning! And really smart! And really talented! And beautiful!” Your eyes bounce around the room as you try to focus. “Because…. because… maybe I’m settling… or maybe I picked wrong again by accident and am continuing that same dumb cycle again without knowing it.” Your voice is defeated as your shoulders cave in.

“What do you mean? What cycle?” Namjoon is playing with your hair, running his fingers through the knots and tangles of it in the most gentle way.

“Of… damn, this sounds so Freudian, but I always pick these people I have to prove myself to. I went overboard all my life trying to be the prettiest and the best or the most special, but it never seemed like enough. Now I know I’m enough all on my own, but I still keep ending up with these people who don’t seem to see it. Which is infuriating and it’s… it’s all a mess. Dear god, there’s so much to unpack in all that.”

You look up at Namjoon in distress. Not only is it flashing in your irises but it’s evident in the way your body clenches and tightens itself.

“Hey, hey hey, woah…. breathe for me. We’ll address all of that in a second, but let’s take care of you first okay? Your body is practically screaming right now, you’re so tense. I can feel it.  Let’s get you comfortable, okay? Is your body in any distress?” He asks as he gently helps you to stand before rising himself. 

You want to laugh at him for how clinical he sounds, but honestly, he’s right. You can feel this whole situation in your body, and it’s starting to mess with you. When he scoops you into his side, you let him. You always forget how tall he is. How comforting the shelter of his hugs are. 

“The bridge of my nose is tingling again, like the beginning of an awful migraine.” Your gaze flits up to his. Namjoon brushes soft fingertips over the bridge of your nose.

“Here?”

“Yeah,” you nod softly.

“Anywhere else?”

You take a moment to assess.

“My whole face is frowning. My brows, my jaw, my teeth- they’re all tight. I think I’ve been holding my breath without realizing it again. My whole body is clenched from my neck to my toes. Has been since I woke up,” you realize.

“All right, well, we’ll start with all of those.” He smiles warmly. Bending, he presses a featherlight kiss to the bridge of your nose before tangling his fingers with yours and leading you to the corner of the studio as you follow. There’s a bemused smile swirling on your lips that’s overrun with fondness for him and his caring touches. You dip your head and grin as he tugs you along.

─────────────────────

You’ve always loved his studio office. So tranquil and peaceful. So perfectly curated for comfort. He fishes a remote out of the pocket of his cargo pants (the ones that you always tease him for since he’s the only man in world who could pull them off) and dims the main lights until all that’s left is the ambient glow of a few soft cartoon lamps and the massive Himalayan salt rock he purchased in Brazil.

It’s a beautifully sunny summer day outside, but his windows are lined by so many trees that the lighting is indirect, never harsh. He pulls you to sit beside him on his luscious futon. The cushions have always felt more like clouds than it made any sense for them to. The sofa’s wedged in a corner by the open windows with a leafy view of Namjoon’s favorite park. The curtains flutter in the breeze as you settle beside him, the warm scent of early summer tickling your nose for once instead of the frazzled bursting of little nerves behind your sinuses.

The happy trickle of his tiny indoor fountain laughs beneath the window. It’s surrounded by his collection of amethyst crystals, placed to diffuse tension and bask in moonlight. The sound of the water soothes you as Namjoon moves to pull his shirt overhead.

“Namjoon, what are you do-“

“Just trust me. I want to try something.” His eyes are incredibly warm. It’s the kind of gaze that lets you know absolutely everything will be alright, no matter how unorthodox the road to get there is about to be. “Skin to skin contact is supposed to help soothe anxiety. It always seems to help calm you down when I hold you so I thought…”

“Oh. You want to ...oh.” For the first time all day, you flush, wide eyed as you take him in.

“No, not fully skin to skin… just like, our torsos maybe? If that would be okay?” He searches your eyes, waiting for permission. It’s not a thing you ever anticipated happening when you entered his studio today, but as your gazes stay fixed on one another, you realize the idea sounds really… nice.

“Yeah, that would be okay.” Your breath comes out as a whisper, and his dimples suddenly reappear. Gently, without a word, he reaches beneath your floaty crop top to unclip your bra, pausing in surprise when he meets the bare skin along your ribs instead.

“Oh… I didn’t fully realize…” he swallows. “I thought maybe you just had one of your soft ones on today. Your body doesn’t usually get this tense unless you have one of your really tight sporty ones on. This guy’s really got you stressed out, huh?” His face is a picture of nothing but genuine concern.

Tenderly, Namjoon traces along your skin and lifts your blousy top up over your head, guiding you to lean into him. Skin to skin. It really is… nice. He was right. It really does help calm your anxiety.

Once you’re settled against him, he taps another button on the remote, one that allows the futon to extend. Not quite flat but elongated and dipped back at enough of an angle that you’re both reclined. The pillows are soft, the leather beneath you both worn in and cool. Warmed just enough by the sun to be pleasant. You breathe in a burst of clean air as the plants in his studio refresh the space, healing any tension in the air.

Between the babbling little brook, the fresh breeze, the soft fabrics and the indirect warmth of a lazy sun and a warm solid body surrounding you, you realize Namjoon has pulled out every trick in his book to smooth your nerves. The lavender he’s put on his pulse points swirls in your nose as his fingers swirl in your hair and glide down your spine, and suddenly, it feels safe to breathe again.

He seems to sense it- the moment when your body begins to unwind beside him.

“Would you like to talk about it again?” He asks, brushing his cheek against the top of your hair. You take a moment to sigh before you answer.

“You know, I feel like I probably should, but I’m so scared it’s going to get me all riled up again, and I don’t want that, Joonie. I really don’t. I just want to lay here with you and have things be peaceful.” You sigh, pressing your lips against the skin on his golden chest. You sink into him, inhaling the natural sweetness of his skin.

“Well, how about this, then? Instead of listing out all that’s bothering you, or all you’re scared of, the cycles you fear, maybe…. maybe we focus on what you do want instead. What you’re longing for. Focus on what fills you up… or what you’d like to.”

Sniffling, you nuzzle into his skin.

“Was that supposed to be a euphemism or did it just happen that way?” It only takes a glance up at his … yep… blushing face to know that it wasn’t intentional, and that warms your heart in untold ways. Perhaps it’s better that way.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you slip it out to see an Audio message.. from him.

“Oh cripes. It’s him.”

You deflate, feeling your ribs sink in all the way until they’ve met your spine. You look up at him, a balloon that’s lost all its air.

“You can play it- go ahead. I got you. I’m right here with you.”

Sighing, you turn on the speaker and listen in tandem with Namjoon, shocked altogether when you get the news.

“He wants to cancel our next date,” you whisper. As the message trails on, something about how ‘maybe we just shouldn’t see each other at all after that actually’ and something about ‘not being compatible but it’s not your fault,’ realization dawns on you.

“Is he... breaking up with me? Through an audio message?”  Your eyes flit up to Namjoon’s in distress.

“That piece of… I’m so sorry, y/n.” His brows have scooped upside down into sad tilted u’s and it’s all the confirmation you need to know that the last minute and thirty seconds were not in fact a terrible dream and were indeed a terribly unpleasant reality.

“This is the strangest day. I know I really shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like it really had been going on long enough to even be a proper relationship— it’s barely been a month. Besides, I spent the whole afternoon making a verbal pros and cons list about him with another guy, so its not like it was going great but,...I mean, I know part of me knew I probably just needed to let this all go, but I just didn’t expect...” your incoherencies babble themselves into silence as Namjoon rubs the back of your shoulders. It reminds you where you are, how you're currently configured, and it makes you feel a bit swimmy.

Looking down at the way you're currently laying bare tits to pecs with your best friend, you become very aware that this was probably for the best, but that doesn't make the nastiness of it hurt any less. An audio message? Really?

“I hate this for you,” Namjoon’s voice is a jumble of gravel and disappointment. “I’m sorry he was such a douchebag about this.’

‘Thanks, Joonie. It can’t be helped now. I guess…I just wish I knew what to do. Because I definitely don’t,” you shake your head.

Namjoom does though, scooping the phone out of your hand and clicking it shut, he pulls you closer as a fresh breeze ruffles the leaves of his peace lily near the window.

“Step one, lean into the friends you have who do show up until you find the guy who does,” he strokes the peachy fuzz along your upper arm and kisses your temple sweetly.

“But how do you know which ones those are? They all seem that way from the start,” you sigh, sinking into him. 

Dragging a finger along his ribs, you count the dips you feel, wondering how many ridges it takes to protect the fragile thing in our chests.

“Hmm. True. But if I know anything about you, it’s that you have the most sensitive intuition of anyone I’ve ever met. It’s so pure, so true, and it never lies to you. You know, there are cultures that think it’s the work of divine feminine energy. I don’t know if that’s true, but you’ve always seemed to have a bit of a goddess appeal to you. I think it suits you. You just have to trust it.”

He nudges your charmingly disheveled hair with his nose, and you breathe a happy scoff into his skin.

“I’m not sure what your well placed flattery has to do with this one, but I’ll bite for once, Nikita Gill. Carry on,” you twist in his arms until your back rests against his front, and you’re sitting between his legs. His fingers come to drag across the skin just above the ribbon cinched waist band on your floaty shorts as you reach above you to loop behind his head. You absentmindedly tangle your fingers in his lavender tresses while the warmth of his skin and rhythm of his breathing rock you gently.

“Funny you should mention her. You’re a bit like her modern Aphrodite, you know.”

“How so?” You bump your forehead against his sculpted chin.

“I mean that one passage. About how the goddess of love and desire had mended so many of her wounds. She’d adapted and settled into herself, overcome all the envy and control she used to thrive off of, but she still felt alone. Until she was invited to a dinner party with the other women of Olympus and realized how loving and welcoming it was to be supported by others as friends and not enemies.”

You nodded, lowering your arms to drape them over top of his and trace his forearms.

“I remember that one. It was one of my favorites in that book. I’d been so excited to show you.”

“I think my lovely Aphrodite needs that.”

“I thought I was your Persephone?” You look up.” I’ve always related to her.”

“You are. Besides the obvious similarities with her complications with Demeter, when you’re glowing, you really are the personification of spring. For this analogy though, even though Persephone is regal in her own way, you’ve always had something of Venus about you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, eyes warm and voice mellowed to soothe. “If you really think about it, you’re a lot like Aphrodite in that poem. She had so many wounded relationships, and you’ve sustained such deep wounds that you’re constantly seeking ways to heal them. And You’ve healed yourself so much already- which im so proud of you for, by the way-“ he kisses your forehead as your lashes flutter shut. “But I think you need a nest like that. A place to rest filled with people who will nourish and nurture you. A place to land while you heal the rest.”

“That sounds lovely,” you sigh,”but I haven’t the slightest idea where to find it.”

Namjoon smooths his palms over the tops of your thighs, his thumbs dragging over the splashes of freckles he finds there.

“I don’t think it’s a place you have to search for. I think it’s a thing you open yourself up to. An energy you receive when you emit it.”

“Like, putting out what I want to receive?”

“Mmm, hmm,” he nods as his ring finger sketches out Orion’s Belt between your freckles. “That guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, but that’s not your fault. There’s someone for you, if that’s what you want. Someone who’ll notice how more than enough you are. Promise. Just don’t force it. Don’t hunt it down or seek it out. Just let good come to you. It will find you when you’re ready for it if you prepare to welcome it.”

You feel tension in the joints of your shoulders lessen in relief at his suggestion. You hadn’t known you were gripping your muscle there, or that you even could. Tipping your head back into his bare shoulder, you begin to relax.

“When are they gonna give you a talk show, Joonie?” You smile.

“I mean, I’d settle for a podcast, but my advice account is actually viral on TikTok. Did you not know? How do you think I afford my share of the apartment?”

“You know, I never thought about it, but that makes perfect sense,” you laugh softly. You realize then that there’s remnants of salt on your cheeks. You hadn’t realized that guy had made you cry. Sighing, you nestle deeper in Namjoon.

“So, back to the sage advice, do you really mean I don’t have to work super hard and seek out a good relationship?”

“No, I don’t think so at all. See that’s the tricky part about that passage. I think it could be interpreted that she needed that all along, and it was Aphrodite’s fault for not seeking it out eons ago. It would be easy for the reader to focus on it as something Aphrodite’s done wrong, but I don’t think that’s the point.” He furrows his brows in a pleasant sort of focus. The kind that makes you just want to watch his beautiful brain formulate the way it does.

“You don’t?”

“No. I think that misses the point altogether. The legends of her in the ancient world were set in a backdrop where things were fueled by pettiness. So many male gods in the pantheon were self interested and vicious. She learned to play hardball, and did what she had to do. She didn’t have a confidant to keep her soft. But this poem takes place with an older Aphrodite. One seasoned by time, who no longer needs to prove anything. She’s tired and open, and non-competitive. She knows who she is and has no envy. She’s healed a lot of her relationship wounds and now she just needs to let the people in who are going to love and accept who she’s become. You know, People who won’t try to judge her, or use or forget her or belittle her. People who wont judge her for who she used to be but will accept for who she is….Because it’s finally the right time for that kind of genuine connection.”

You love how analytical his mind is.

“So does that mean you think I’ll find it? Or that it’ll find me rather?” You sneak a glance up at him.

“Yeah, I do.” Something in his heart swells. It makes his eyes feel hazy as he stuffs his crush for you into the background like cheese into the crust of a pizza. You’d never know unless you pulled it apart.

You take his hand in yours, tracing a finger along the crackled fissures lining the inside of his palm, and sit in the silence with him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“What do I do… If, say, I was already in good hands all along and totally missed it?”

“Hmm?” He feels his pulse spike along his throat.

Twisting sideways between his legs, you wrap your arms around him. “Joonie, I mean you. We take good care of each other, don’t we?”

His massive hands are fitted to your skin. Slowly, he sinks his palms into your ribs, pressing in firmly as your breath catches. “Yeah,” he whispers, caramel deep. “I think we do.”

“Namjoon, would… it be weird if I tried something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” his brow scrunches. He’s not fully tracking where this is going, but he’s along for the ride.

Slipping a hand around the curve of his cheek, you turn him to face you. Your smile is warm and lovely with melancholy. “I think I’d like to sink into where I am right now. With you.” Your eyes look between his, and Namjoon feels himself collapse in happy relief when you pull him down into your lips. One of his hands finds its way to your face as the other traces secrets into your skin, and he realizes all at once that kissing you feels like coming home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This is how the version of you and Namjoon that had always been best friends slips into the beginnings of the version of you and Namjoon that will fall deeply in love.

His hands slide to curve and cup the bottom of your breasts as they fill his palms like water in a cup, and his fingers splay to catch them. The veins rise beneath his skin, but his touch is still velvet against your skin. He lowers himself to whisper caramel thick in your ear.

You shudder as his plush lips graze your skin, and something in you feels like you’re breathing for perhaps the first time. Your face presses into his neck as your hands search for purchase across the tops of his absurdly sculptured legs.

He’s loving and warm and everywhere and your nerves are all lit up. Not in alarm or even in alert. More like in the way a coral reef glows with luminescence when things are balanced and in order. The way nature warms like a halo when it’s in harmony with itself.

Namjoon guides you against his body, precious and safe. His right palm continues to mold into the softness of you as his left unravels from your touch to drag its way up to the waistband of your flouncy shorts. His bottom lip catches in his teeth when his ever observant eyes notice the satin bow looped and tied at your waist. You watch transfixed as he delicately unties the bow, letting the ribbon flutter loose between your thighs.

He stays there, molding to the swells of you, his eyes filled with wonder as he smiles at you. His own breathing is shaky and wrecked and out of sync with you as his chest crashes against your back and his fingers sink deep into your skin. You feel your head loll back, rolling against the curve of his shoulder, pressed against the swelling of his newly sculpted biceps. The beauty etched into his sinew enchants you. You lose yourself, preoccupied as your eyes trace the musculature running in rivers down his arms. When he catches you, stupefied and gaping at him, he flexes and chuckles under his breath at the way he feels your thighs tremble under his hands when you see the muscle shift.

Namjoon runs his tongue over his teeth, genuinely overcome with affection for you, at the joy of tumbling into this with someone who knows him so well. Someone he’s so eager to love. Because he is. He knows it’s too soon to tell you, but he’s loved you for a long time. He’s not sure when it started or how he thought it was ever going to work out, but somehow he’s ended up here, pressed skin to skin and heart to heart with you. So as long as you're here right now, in his lap and in his arms, he’s going to love you.

He could stay in this moment with you forever. 

He catches a glimpse of the way your shut lashes flutter when he pulls you against him, how your beautiful brows pinch together. It strikes him then how much he can’t wait to slip his tongue into your full, open mouth so he does. The kisses between you are luxurious in a way he’s never known before as you sink into him in the soundproofed walls of his studio. 

Whatever you are to each other is for you and Namjoon to know, and no one else. Not yet. He’ll share you with the whole world once he can. For now, whatever this is, it’s just yours and his. His heart warms as he looks at you, admiring the soft heart that guides you through this life. It’s such a complex thing, so often at odds with itself. He’d like nothing more than to be it’s resting place.

As your eyes begin to flutter open, Namjoon realizes he’d really love for this to be a regular thing.

“You’re amazing.” He whispers, nose to nose with you. He smiles then, eyes happily crinkled around the edges. He can practically feel the way you preen at his praise, body unfolding into something pliant and soft at his encouragement, the complete opposite of its earlier tension. “Have I told you that yet?”

You nod “no” breathlessly, biting your lip and keening into his touch as both his hands slip to hold you against the plump flesh of your outer thighs. You palm his rounded arms and lean against him, lightheaded, happy, limp, and smiling.

Namjoon can’t help but smile into the next kiss as he marvels at you and your beautiful contradictions. Your startling confidence and your deeply soft heart. Your playful banter and your sincere words. Your bravado and your genuine, sensitive kindness. You’re innocence and temptation held in perfect, chaotic balance in one soft, feminine body, like a cosmic vinaigrette that made no sense but tasted delicious nonetheless. It makes him want to dip you in honey and dissolve into the sky.

His fingers are light as they skim across your skin and you hold your breath, releasing it in a shuddery exhale together as your bodies roll together.

“Baby girl.” The words float just outside your consciousness as your skin warms with his breath.

Your body has switched to autopilot, and you’re grateful not to have to control your responses to him. Your hips feel loose, bones replaced instead with something fluid. You feel yourself move with him in gradual tandem rather than consciously orchestrating it. His hands are so big, so rough, so sturdy. It makes you feel a little drunk to know someone so beautiful is caressing you. Someone who truly cares for all of you.

Namjoon tips your face with his, dipping into your mouth to fill the chasm with his welcome, fluid tongue. You fizzle with warmth as you melt with him. With your hands clamped to his legs, his between yours and his tongue in your mouth, you wish you had enough extra air to laugh but you don’t. Instead, you feel the extra joy with no place to go making your body feel as if it’s lifting into the air, like you’re astral projecting . Your brain flickers on for just a second as it tries to process all this euphoria, but you find yourself unable to handle it before the bulb flickers out again, overwhelmed by it all.

Another time perhaps.

In this time and reality, Namjoon’s long fingers swirl lazy and soft across your skin, steady but firm. Your hips glide with him and the moment is perfectly paced- slow but satiating. When your hips kant in tandem he shifts his palm to paw softly at the doughy flesh of your chest, in awe of how beautiful they are spilling out of his hands. Namjoon breaks the kiss to watch you, his forehead against yours as he exhales, dizzy and happy.

You love that. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are glittering and wild. His smile is so tender, so full of something so like love, and you wonder why you never realized you could have had this sort of beautiful experience with him.

“Hey you,” he whispers, tipping his nose into yours, and brushing against the sparkling piercing in your button nose.

You think you might love it when he says that to you. Love the way he puts you at ease. That’s the thing with Namjoon, there’s never pressure or a need for performance or fear. You realize you haven’t been anxious once in this whole exchange. It almost makes you want to sing. You’re so elated you could cry when his warm voice has your senses swimming.

“I know you said before that you don’t always like this, so I’m asking: this once, can I taste your skin? Can I mark you please?” His nose is pressed beneath your ear, panting as his hand splays across your collarbone. “It’s okay if you don’t. You can say no if you—”

“Yes. Oh my… god, yes.”

With a relieved exhale, he dips to kiss your throat like he had that day of the Fourth of July picnic, and you sink into him. Your nails bury into his thighs as he suckles warm and wet at your neck. Namjoon’s mouth is open, breath warm and pressure firm as he drags a steady tongue over your pulse. 

It feels … amazing. You realize then that it isn’t that you don’t like neck kisses in general, it’s that you just didn’t see the point in neck kisses that didn’t feel like this. Because in all honesty, Namjoon’s lips on your neck make you feel like maybe you’ve ascended to some astral plane normal mortals aren’t meant to find out about, but he’s taken you there anyway, and a part of you realizes no other man ever had a chance. Maybe that Fourth of July with him all those years ago really did skew your standards. Because right now, his tongue is hypnotic against your skin and for the life you, you couldn’t care less if there are consequences after this moment. You’re in Namjoon’s capable hands feeling nothing but blissed out and safe.

Your breath grows unsteady until you realize his solid hand is overtop yours that rests on his thigh. His fingers interlace with yours as you clutch at his skin, and he drags them overtop your own legs, sinking into your cloud like flesh there.

You beam, knowing how gloriously lightheaded and dizzy you are right now. Namjoon’s lips are ecstasy. You know how easily you bruise- your neck will likely be black and purple and mottled when he’s through with you. You’ll have to hide out with him in his studio for days until it all passes. They may never go away at that rate, because somehow you know that once you see the marks of his splashed across your skin, you won’t have the willpower not to crawl back into his lap and ask for new ones. Because of who they came from. Because of the idea that, in some way, they make you his, and you can’t explain why you like that so much.

The thought alone of the way he may touch you in the future riles you up more than him touching in the now already does. The intensity of both all at once has your air coming in shaky, short and euphoric. Your vision swims with spots and you suddenly want more of him. At some point along the way, Namjoon has shed the rest of his clothes, fully tangled with you, and you pull him until his hips are between yours, and your fingers are lost in his lavender hair.

So you tap his shoulder and instantly, the pressure on your airway is lessening and his face is coming up from where it was adoring the now aubergine skin on your neck. Licking his lips, he twists to meet your eyes, slowing the swirl of his fingers across your skin.

“Yes?” He asks through the sexiest, heavy lidded eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Joonie, can we…” suddenly shy with your words, you bump his hips with yours, and that dimpled smile of his is suddenly beaming down at you. You’d been in the middle of dragging your face against his when he immediately displaces you and reorients you in front of him.

“Off. Take these beautiful things off,” he’s snatching at those goddamn flouncy shorts as you stand and suckling a blossoming purple spot into your hip bone. You crawl back into his lap, and pause, marveling at the man you've always known as roommate and best friend, suddenly giddy at the idea of waking up tomorrow morning to make French toast and water your mutual plants with him as something else instead. It’s different like this, connecting this way with someone who already feels like home. It’s different with him.

He seems to be having a moment of his own as he slips his hands around the dip of your spine and pulls you close, kissing your temples and running his lips across your hairline. He lowers his face until your noses press together and lets out a shuddery, not nervous but sort of, breath as his eyes lower to his hips and you.

You catch sight of his member there between you. It’s a beautiful color really, the painter in you notices. Some cocktail shade of mauve and cocoa that matches his nipples and supple mouth. It’s a little overwhelming to notice it all honestly, so before you let him slip inside you, you lean into him and kiss him. It’s grounding and glorious all at once. In fact, it’s so hypnotic that before you even realize it, he's already slipping into you as your mouths press, until suddenly, he’s breaking the kiss and groaning involuntarily as his hips stutter...

“What is it, Joon? What’s the-“ when you pull back to see if something is wrong, his hand is suddenly in your hair pulling you to him and you gasp.  “Fuck, joonie,” you breathe.

He says nothing in reply, too lost in the rush of blood singing in his ears, but his gaze never leaves yours. Those venusian eyes of yours are so tempting - you know it and so does he and he’s happy to comply. His hips roll up, and you're tempted to praise him for knocking your consciousness back into the base of your spine, but you don’t think you could form that many words in succession right now. He catches the way your eyes flutter, the way you melt into him, relying on him to catch you, and he gives in to the way his heart expands in his chest.

“Anything for my Aphrodite,” he whispers, his lips pressed to the glimmer of sweat beginning to cool on your forehead.

He’s so aroused right now that, even with all that liquid surrounding him right now and your velour walls sucking him in, he gets stuck on his slide in. You both still to catch your breath, exchanging an airy laugh with each other as you take in the others fully naked body and swoon respectively.

“I think you’re gonna have to help us out, Joonie,” you chuckle, tipping your head down at where you’re… oh my god, joined together. You can’t believe this is really a thing the two of you do now. More importantly than that though, is it normal for a man to have such a pretty pelvis? Because Kim Namjoon’s cock is so big it’s nearly stuck inside you, and all you can think about is how pretty he looks half fitted into you like this like some janky wooden puzzle piece.

“Breathe for me okay? This will feel better if you’re relaxed. Trust me. I promise.” He kisses your temple, but he laughs too, more a raspy exhale than anything else, and with his eyes glued to the way he disappears inside you, he fluidly rolls the rest of the way up into you.

“Holy fu—“

“Hey, Language,” he teases, making you flush.

“Oh you’re worse than me,” you defend.

“Just barely.” He nips his teeth at your collarbone, not knowing it will trigger the beautiful sensation of you arching your back and subconsciously tightening around him. He stutters a breathy woah as he smiles at you, eying your lips before grazing his thumb across them.

You revel in knowing that he doesn’t need you to be perfect for him. You get the feeling that this experience with him will be special however it ends, which is more than you can say for your last few guys. Namjoon is such a gem. Which you knew, but didn’t know. You wish you’d figured this all out sooner.

When the slightest hint of a frown crosses your face, Namjoon cradles your face lovingly and reminds you “hey, stay with me. We’re right here: you and me. Everything okay?” You nod, and he waits until you elaborate before his hips continue.

“Yeah, I’m just...annoyed with myself for not realizing what a catch you were sooner,” you say honestly.

He smiles until his dimples peek out. “Hey, it worked out when it was supposed to, remember? No rushing. Let the good come to you.”

You smile warmly at him, grateful in innumerable ways for his existence, however it is to be explained, and place your cradled hands over his entirely too beautiful pecs. He flashes a smile so wide his teeth beam back at you as he flexes, slips his fingers around your waist again, and rolls his hips up into you.

His thumbs brush like music against your skin as he carries the effort of setting the pace for you. After spending the pandemic turning into a gym rat, his body is so strong that his thrusts are nuanced, fluid and strong, climbing up into the back of your torso in ways that don’t make sense. You feel like a little boat tossed at sea marveling at the waves.

His lips are on your mouth, his tongue warm and velvet as it drives you. Namjoon does all the work for you, and all that’s asked is that you receive. So you do. You let him do whatever he wants to do to you because, if you've learned anything today, it’s the gift of letting good things comes to you.

You don’t know how long this has all been going on because you’ve entirely lost yourself in Namjoon. In the way he suckles your breasts, kisses your mouth, and manipulates your body until you bounce like a rabbit in his powerful lap. You lean into him, your spine feeling entirely too flimsy to hold yourself up, and he holds you to him, scooping you up as you melt against him.

You don’t know whether you’re coming or going but you definitely know when you’re cumming. It’s like he’s taken you out of your body and set you on a cloud. You feel blissfully, happily, lovingly, irreverently fucked as your sweaty skin sticks to his. You marvel at his stamina even as you feel fully ready to collapse into him and resign from this world.

You sneak a glance at him through your hazy fluttered lids. His face looks almost angry as he watches where your bodies join, but you know that face- he’s just focused- so you focus on how gorgeous his pseudo pissed off jawline is as he works. After a few moments, he feels your gaze on him and looks up. Your eyes are quick to lock onto his and his lashes flutter, his heart rejoining the unspoken conversation as he smiles at you, brown eyes sparkling in their darkness, and warming his face with a flush.

One look, one solid uninterrupted look in your eyes is all it takes then, and suddenly, he’s melting into you. 

He collapses back on the couch then, and you’re elated at the way he holds you up. His skin is salty and hot, and You’re grateful for the privacy of his studio despite the open windows because god, do you need the fresh air blowing through on the breeze right now.

He hugs you to him and you hold him back, thighs squeezing his hips as his welcome stickiness trickles it’s way out of you and mingles where you both stay joined. You fall asleep in his arms like that, not rousing until several hours later.

─────────────────────

You press up once you wake and Namjoon does too, shaking out the stiffness from the lack of circulation in his legs. You exchange quiet looks, bashful smiles and silent reminders that everything is just a little bit new. 

In the silent haze of the darkness you've both woken up to, he pulls his softest, largest hoodie out of his desk drawer and over your head, blushing with an almost proud, secret smile when he catches a glimpse of your beautifully splotched throat beside the collar. You notice his poorly hidden grin and connect the dots as you flush in the dark. It’s funny, but you dont feel self conscious the way you thought you would— instead your chest soars when he presses a gentle kiss beneath your jaw, turning away before you can see how affected he is.

It’s quiet after that. He orders in food for the both of you and sets about finding a task while you wait for it to arrive. He fishes a drink out of his mini fridge for you and tosses you a bag of chips to snack on as changes out the futon cover in the meanwhile. He turns on the projector in the studio now that it’s the middle of the night and tabs around until he finds something to watch, keeping the studio lights dim as he scoops you into him.

In a lot of ways, it feels like a normal night, except, in reality, it’s not— everything has changed. What it’s become, you’re not sure. All you know is that every time Namjoon looks at you, you feel more and more like a wonder. Your heart feels more full than it possibly ever has and you can barely hold eye contact with him without smiling. It all feels sort of… right.

When the food arrives, you laugh at him when you realize He’s ordered you sushi and French fries which is ridiculous but delicious, and your chest warms from the inside. He ordered himself street tacos and wriggles his nose every time you offer him a dragon roll. 

It just might be the happiest night of your life.

Namjoon holds you close to his chest when the food is done. Together you watch an animated movie that’s new to you and old to him. You smile every time he tenses— just before every exciting thing happens. He’s trying so hard not to spoil anything or tell you what’s going to happen, but his body betrays him every step of the way.

He smiles bashfully in the dark until the movie ends. When it does, he shuts the projector down before he pulls you both beneath a fluffy blanket and holds you through the night.

See?” He whispers once all the lights have been turned off, and it’s just you and him in the velvet silence that comes well after midnight. “I told you. Focus on the good things, and more will come.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I think you were right all along, joonie.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you interrupted me today.”

“I am too.”

You smile into his chest, and the world fades away.