#just like. A Sentence Or Two- sometimes even a SINGLE WORD- responses to asks with maybe a picture of a sprite from the game.

[irradiatedsnakes]

race to block as many dialtown askblogs as physically possible

[ghostlywhiskey]

pen pal simon - original post

every day after work, you found yourself sat at your desk attempting to write back a response to the soldier who referred to himself as ‘ghost’. crumpled up stationary surrounded your desk space, along with different types of pens as you obsessed over your handwriting. if one letter of your penmanship looked wrong, the paper would become another ball added to the collection of half written letters that contained slightly different, if not the same, wording in response to the thank you letter from ghost.

the simple questions he asked to get to know you suddenly felt like the hardest questions to answer, as if you were being graded on the facts about yourself. was he going to find your hobbies boring? maybe your hobbies were boring the more you read your response. the easiest question to answer was regarding how long you had been doing the care packages - a few years since one of your friends had a significant other that joined the military. stories often mixed with people who received packages and cards from family members frequently, but the ones where some received little to none are the ones that made you upset. so, you had decided to explain that to ghost and it was probably the easiest response of them all to write out. not single moment did the pen leave the paper for you to collect your thoughts or how to word your answer.

but then, you continued to answer the questions he asked you, and in return you asked him similar or different ones. again, you weren’t positive he would reply this time around, but you figured you’d still return the gesture of asking him questions as well. and when you finished writing it all, reading through it god only knows how many times for errors, you finally slipped it into an envelope. this time, no ‘treats’ were included, instead you had opted to ask him if he had any favorites, that way if he did end up writing you back then you could buy him what he preferred.

and after you mailed out the letter, you pushed the thought of it to the side to try and forget about it. but, you couldn’t deny every time you arrived home and checked the mail you were secretly hoping there was a response. but then a few weeks went by and there really was no response waiting mixed in with your other mail.

then after almost two months, after a shit day at work, you didn’t even think twice as you grabbed the mail and walked into your home. going through the motions of your routine - showering, cooking dinner and anything else you had to take care of, you finally sat at the counter towards the end of the night to sort through the mail. a small card was tucked between a bunch of other trash mail, your eyes immediately recognizing the handwriting. quickly, you opened up the envelope and sure enough, that same notebook paper was tucked into it, this time three pieces of paper unfolded in your hands. 

..it’s been quite hectic over where i’m currently at, so sorry for the lack of my responding…

...i’m a bit upset of the lack of treats, it definitely beats what we have to eat sometimes.

the reason you do the packages is quite sweet. is your friends’ partner still alive? you use the past tense when you speak of them. sorry if that is rude to ask.

you read every word of the letter, not once, but twice. and he didn’t just read your response to his, he took notice of the small details. you didn’t even realize you had used the past tense, but he wasn’t wrong in his assumption either when he thought they might have passed. it was like reading a full blown conversation he had to himself in his head; the way before or after some sentences, he would write out interjections. some sentences were followed by parentheses where he made his own little comment as well about what he had just written.

again, i hope you forgive my delayed response. hope it doesn’t stop you from writing back. don’t always have the time, but promise i’ll get back to you. maybe in your next letter you can send me a picture of yourself, i think it would be nice to put a face to the name that signs off on these. i can’t do the same, but i’ll find a way to make up for that. ‘til the next letter, ghost.

and while you didn’t get started writing your response that night, you did make your way to your room with a smile on your face. excitement was already brewing about what you would say in your response and the next anticipated response he would give back, even if he did take a bit to respond.

[teliphone]

Blackmail

Summary: You have been receiving text messages from an unknown caller. They know secrets that you didn't know yet. They use that as an advantage to string you closer to them. You need someone to treat you right.

Warning(s): Smut, Obsessive Behavior, Blackmail, Threats, Manipulations, Cheating, Praise Kink

Word Count: 6.2k

-

A buzz from your phone vibrates the table, cutting you off mid-sentence. Your eyes stare at your phone which is facing down towards the cafeteria table. It vibrates several more times, suggesting you received more than just one text. You decide to ignore it because you had a feeling it may be from the unknown caller. The sender has been messaging you since last week. At first, the texts were weird but easier to handle. You believed it was a prank, but soon the texts started sounding more personal. Filled with uncomfortable threats and blackmail. As if the person knows you or about you. Someone in this school. 

You uncomfortable shift your weight to the opposite side, away from the phone. Noticing you have been staring at your phone for too long, you look back up at your best friend, Amber. You give her a sweet fake smile. She follows your eyes and nibbles the bottom of her lips. 

“Aren’t you going to check?” She questions. She leans forward to grab your phone. 

It’s normal for her to check considering you two have been best friends since middle school. She’d sometimes toss her phone aside and scroll through yours instead. Which is acceptable to you because you had nothing to hide from her. Especially since you believe she’s just scrolling through your media apps. She claims that your feed is far more entertaining than hers. You trust her with almost everything. On the other hand, she trusts you with everything she has. You weren’t the type to snoop much but with Amber's absolute trust in you… you could look through every single app on her phone. It was a joke at first when she gave you permission. To tease her and make her panic. There’s no way she’s that nonchalant. You’d bite your lips and narrow your eyes at her, finger lingering over the search history or deleted photo albums like a trigger. She gives no response. Just a shrug and a classic Amber response of:

“I have nothing to hide from you.” 

You roll your eyes and a groan escaped your lips. Letting the mobile device slip off your fingers and onto her bed.  

“No fun,” You sigh. 

This time you do have a secret to hide. Those texts were something you did not want Amber to read or see. They consist of things even Amber does not know. The last thing you want is for her to be worried for you. As she reaches for your phone, you quickly snatch it away. Shoving it into your pockets. Her face is in shock. You have never been so defensive towards her. 

“It’s nothing really. It’s just Ethan,” You lie. You couldn’t look at her expression and focus on the forgotten meal in front of you. She returns her hands back to her side slowly. Her eyes never leave yours. She decides to not interrogate you in front of all the other classmates. She’s going to find out sooner or later. 

“Oh okay... What does he want?” She asks with a hint of annoyance. She hates your so-called “boyfriend”. She does not believe you two are meant to be together. 

“He wanted to hang out tonight. His parents are gone on a trip,” You half lie. 

“You didn’t read the text,” She informs, narrowing her eyes at you. You shoot her a look of annoyance. What is this all of a sudden? An investigation?

“He’s been asking me since this morning okay?” You protest, “I know it’s him because he’s been desperate and a bit horny…. I-“ You pause. Secretly glancing around you in case someone hears. Every other student seems to be invested in their own conversations to pay attention to yours. Amber leans forward because she’s intrigued.

“I haven’t been doing it with him,” You breathe out. At least this time you weren’t lying to Amber. She groans in response. Pushing her food away from herself as an expression she lost her appetite. 

“I’m going to start heading to class. Have fun with him tonight,” She cringes. She stands up and walks to your side. She leans down to give you a kiss on the head before walking away. Once she was out of sight, you pull out your phone.

Your boyfriend is cheating on you. 

You’re just a sweet slut for him to use. 

I see how you look at her.

He doesn’t love you. 

Break up with him. You don’t deserve him anyway. 

You feel a heaviness in your heart. There’s no way he’s cheating on you… right? You brush your head in frustration. You shouldn’t trust a random text message. You are not going to let this ruin your life. 

-

“I guess I’m not hanging out with him tonight,” You inform Amber as you place your phone down on your bed. She rolls herself over til she is laying on her stomach on the left side of the bed. She’s still wearing her clothes from earlier at school. You sit on the right side wearing a graphic t-shirt and sleeping shorts. Her face lightens up and smiles. 

“What happened?” Her question is a little too exciting. You bring your thighs up to your chest and rest your chin on top of your knee. 

“He suddenly-“

“You know what? I don’t care,” She quickly cuts you off. You give her a soft smile. 

“You don’t even love him. It’s a waste of time,” She bickers, shuffling around uncomfortably. Her shoulders bumped against your feet a couple of times.  

“I don’t love him… yet,” You correct her. She stops moving and you watch her chest move up and down fast. She quickly sits up which makes you widen your eyes. She scoots closer and places her hands on your knees. You lean back till your head hits the board of the bed.

“Do you like having sex with him?” She challenges. Her eyes glisten from the lamp beside the bed. The only light source in the room. Your eyes glance down to her plump lips and flicker shut. Turning your head to the side.

“Sometimes,” You admit, staring at the wall. You suddenly feel the heat rise to your cheeks. Amber tilts her head as she slowly analyzes the side of your features. 

“That’s not enough,” She breathes, staring at your lips. Her short fingernails graze against the skin of your knees. You shallow the knot in your throat. You look back up to meet her dilated dark eyes. She looks a little insane. She smiles, tilting her head slightly. Your heart quickens embarrassingly. Your legs drop from your chin into a cross position in an attempt to cool off. She bites her lips playfully. 

“What do you like?”

“What do you mean?” You whisper. 

“During bed,” She deadpan. You furrow your eyebrows and brush her fingers off your knees. The small circles she had been drawing were driving you crazy. 

“Why would I tell you?” You giggle. She leans forward and rests her head on your shoulders. You swear she could hear your heart hammering against your chest. 

“Come on. We’re best friends. We share everything,” Her breath fans against your neck. She snuggles closer and you squeeze your eyes shut. Her scent clouds your thoughts and it took every muscle in your body to gently push her away.

“Amber stop,” You hesitate. In another second you would fall into temptation. She groans in defeat and falls back onto your bed. Her hair spread across your pillow. She’s visibly upset, but you didn’t really understand why. You had a boyfriend and you hate cheating. She should know that. But you also didn’t blame her for feeling frustrated. You can’t hide your attraction toward her. It’s so obvious. It’s like a game between you two. Truthfully, it’s toxic… and you hate that you enjoy it. A game where you will end up breaking your morals and submitting to your thoughts. She lets out a loud sigh and pushes herself off the bed.

“Where are you going?” You puzzle. You want her to stay next to you. She fluffs her hair and adjusts her clothes.

“I have to go home. My parents told me to be back for a dinner party with some neighbors,” She explains.

“I see,” You try to not sound disappointed. Usually, she would stay til late. To the point where you will have to beg her to leave so that her parents wouldn’t get angry at her. She hides her smile and walks towards the bedroom door. Stopping at the door frame she turns around. 

“Don't miss me too much. I’ll come to pick you up for school tomorrow,” She promises before leaving you alone in your room. You pout and fall onto your bed, inhaling the lingering scent of Ambers perfume. You close your eyes and feel your body start to relax.

Buzz. Your phone vibrates and you ignore it. 

Buzz. 

Buzz. You shuffle.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

You groan in frustration. With eyes still closed you brush your hands around the bedsheets to locate the phone. You bring the phone to your face and start reading the text. 

Y/n I have news for you.

Do you really think Ethan is studying for his econ exam right now? 

Are you that naive?

He’s too easy to please. 

Btw you look good today baby. 

Especially now in those shorts. 

You feel panic zap throughout your body. The room suddenly feels cold and too dark. You run to your windows and shut the curtains as fast as you can. Clutching the phone close to your chest. You take a seat back on the bed. With shaky hands, you text back. 

Who are you?

A second later you get a reply. 

Yay I finally got your attention! 

Do you want a surprise? 

How do you know what I’m wearing?

You’re asking so many questions. I can tell you’re nervous lol.

Answer me. Two minutes pass.

Not yet, baby. The nickname makes you sick in the stomach. 

I’m sorry I made you feel anxious. I don’t mean to. Here’s the surprise as an apology. 

File attached 

You nervously hover over the link. Clicking it causes a photo to appear on the screen. At first, you couldn’t figure out what it was showing. You narrow your eyes and look closer. The photo is blurry and a bit dark. The only light source coming in is from the gaps between wherever the photo is taken. You zoom in on the bright area. A portion of Ethan’s body is evident. He’s in the motion of putting on a shirt. Your eyes widen in realization. The unknown caller is hidden in your boyfriend's closet. You jump out of bed and open your phone to call the cops. A text notification appears above the phone dial before you could finish pressing the last number. 

Don’t call the cops or I’ll kill him. 

You gasp and drop your phone. 

“Oh my god!” You cry out. You rush to your closet and pull down your shorts to put on jeans. Fumbling and breathing heavily. You feel yourself sweating from anxiety and fear. You have to get to his house and save him. 

-

You knock vigorously against his front door. The thick wood is starting to hurt your hand from how hard you’re pounding on the door. 

“Ethan! Ethan, are you okay?! Open the door!” You pant. You continue knocking for who knows how long. A dark figure appears behind the blurry glass and you’re breathing hicks. The door opens revealing Ethan wearing his boxers and a blue t-shirt. His hair is disheveled as if he had just woken up from a nap. You stare at him in shock and confusion. You start touching him to check for any bruises or cuts. Turning him around and checking up and down his body. 

“Woah babe! What’s wrong?” He gasps at your action. 

“Is there anyone in your room?” You worry. He widens his eyes slightly for a split second before averting his gaze to the left of you and back. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. 

“What? Why would I? I have no one over,” He answers. His answer didn’t satisfy you. 

“Let me check your room,” You demand. You try to walk past him, but he holds you back. You look up and let out a frustrated sigh. He is desperately trying to reach the same level of concern as you, but he didn’t understand a single thing happening. 

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?” He inquires. You attempt to push his hand away, but his grip is firm. Your eyes start to water from intense anxiety. His hold softens and he reaches up to hold your face. 

“I- I received a picture of you. Someone is hidden in your room. I was so worried I came here as fast as possible. I was afraid someone was going to hurt you,” You fret. He finally understands your actions. 

“Hey, I am okay. I’m here with you right now. It’s alright,” He comforts. You sniff and reach up to hold his triceps. He pulls you into a deep hug. You stay in that position until your breathing starts to calm down. His warmth comforts you. His fingers tip gently grazing on top of your scalp. 

He never let you check his room that night. But that was okay because you trust him. As long as he is okay like he claimed to be, there shouldn’t be any need for you to check. 

-

The next morning you sat extremely quiet in Amber’s car which is now parked in front of school. Who is the person texting you? Will they actually harm the people you love? How did they get a picture of Ethan? Did they set up a camera? Is there a camera hidden in your room? So many thoughts flood your mind that you didn’t realize Amber was talking to you. She waves a hand in front of your face. You blink and look up at her. Her eyebrows furrow with a concerned look. She places her hand on your cheek.

“There you are. Did something happen last night?” She worries. You tilt your head away from her palm and look down. Her eyes flash with hurt as she returns her hand back to her side. You don’t know if you should tell her about the text messages you have been receiving. You didn’t want her to worry. You also didn’t want the unknown messenger to start threatening Amber if she were to find out. On the other hand, you knew you needed someone to be there with you. You can’t handle this alone. The only person who you fully love and trust is her. Amber. 

“Amber,” You finally whimper. A tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her. Waves of emotion come crashing down. All you need is for her to…to… no. All you need is her. Everything about her will help. She quickly engulfs you in a hug. She doesn’t ask you any questions but waits til you start to catch your breath. You slowly pull away from the hug first. She waits patiently. You lick your lips and pull out your phone. Quietly pressing onto the unknown contact to reveal the messages that have been haunting you. You hand it over to her. You watch as she scrolls and reads the texts. Her face starts to turn into pure anger. She grips your phone. Her eyes enlarge and glisten. 

“How long has this person been texting you,” She demands.

“Almost two weeks,” You confess. She angrily rubs her hair away from her face. 

“Why haven’t you called the cops?!” 

“B-because I am scared! They threatened me! If I called the cops, what would they do to Ethan?! What would they do to you?! I cannot let anything happen to you two, especially you!” You explode. Thinking about any harm being inflicted on her makes your blood boil. Your hands start to shake without noticing. She looks down at your shaking body and pauses. 

“Do.. do you think this person is trying to help you?” She wonders out loud. 

“What?” You look at her in disbelief. 

“Think about it. This person has been warning you about Ethan. How you shouldn’t trust him. Maybe he’s been lying to you and-” She rambles. 

“Are you serious right now?” You glare. She quickly shuts her mouth. She knew she messed up. You are starting to feel like you regret telling her. You unlock the passenger door and walk out. Slamming the car door behind you. 

“Y/n!” Amber cries out. You ignore her and continue walking at a fast pace. A few students hanging out at the front glance at you two. She stumbles over her own footsteps to catch up to you. 

“Baby I am sorry! Y/n, please! I am just trying to make sense of this situation!” She calls out again. You stop walking and took a deep breath in. She finally catches up, leaning over to collect herself. You swallow your pride. 

“I am sorry too. I didn’t mean to get mad… it’s just. I just wish you are wrong. I couldn’t imagine if you were right. I trust him. You of all people should know that,” You admit. Before she could reply, the school bell rings. Signaling that it is time for all students to get to class. You two glance at each other and quietly walk to class. 

-

Two classes have already passed and you are currently sitting at your third. A few students whisper among each other talking about whatever topic is floating around. You drum your fingertips against the wood of your desk. Your eyes stare around at your classmates. Could one of them be the unknown caller? Tara sits next to you on the right. She is currently wearing a blue sweater. Her hair was slightly curled and a few front strands tied to the back. She is bored as she scrolls on her phone, waiting for class to start. She stops scrolling and side-eyes you. She catches you staring at her. 

“What?” She asks. 

“Nothing,” You answer. She returns her attention back to her phone. It can’t be her. Amber and she are closer than you are with Tara. There’s no reason for her to distress her friends’ best friend.  You look ahead and see Wes. He is wearing a gray t-shirt. He is currently organizing his desk. A perfectly sharp pencil to the left of him and a clean page in the front. You’ve talked to him a few times. He’s an absolute sweetheart, yet Amber always liked to pick on him. You couldn’t tell if she was just joking or if she actually hated him. 

Buzz. Your heart quickens again. You pull out the phone from your pocket. 

Hi baby!

What do you want?

Wow, what a fast response! I am starting to feel like we are becoming good friends! 

Stop texting me. Please.

Awh you’re begging. Sorry I can’t, but no worries. I have another surprise! 

Break up with Ethan today during lunch hours. You blink. 

Publicly announce it. If you don’t before lunch ends… I’ll give everyone a taste of what your boyfriends’ been up to. Don’t test me, baby. 

Your ears muffle the surrounding noises. What just happened? What did they mean by “a taste of what your boyfriends been up to”? There’s no way they would-

“Y/n,” Tara’s voice brings you back to life. 

“W-what?” You stutter. She points to the front of the room and your eyes follow her direction. The teacher stood with her arms crossed as she stares. 

“Put away the phone. Class started,” She barks. 

The teacher goes on and on with her lesson, but of course, you did not listen to a single full sentence. You mostly stared at your desk in deep thought. Afraid of what is going to happen. Class ended rather fast… or slowly. You couldn’t tell anymore. You rush out down the halls and see a familiar figure. It's Amber. She is currently talking to a few classmates. One hand holding a textbook while the other she uses to brush her hair. A classmate giggles and playfully slaps Amber's shoulder. You roll your eyes and walk up beside Amber. Her full attention immediately falls on you and you smile. She waves her hands as a signal for the nameless classmates to walk away. They glare at you as they walk by. Funny how fast their face changes once she’s not looking. 

“They hate me,” You mumble, leaning against Amber's locker. She giggles and touches her heart chain necklace. You watch as she rubs against the heart. 

“No one could hate you. You’re perfect,” She corrects as she softly pushes you off her locker. You obey and rest on the locker next to hers. She opens it and places her textbook inside. You watch her closely, tilting your head against the metal doors. Looking at her calms you. She catches you staring and smiles, tilting her head to match yours. You two stare at each other until a name calls for you. Amber rolls her eyes and slams her locker shut. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. 

“Hey there babe,” Ethan greets. He grabs your waist and pulls you close to his. Peppering kisses around your face. You giggle awkwardly before pushing him off. Amber's face remains expressionless. 

“Ready for lunch? There’s no econ group project to work on today, so what better use of time than to eat with my girl,” He beams. Amber makes a gagging sound. You pinch her arm. Ethan looks at Amber and awkwardly rubs his neck. 

“Y-you can join us too, you know,” He offers. Amber gives him a knowing look. Something you didn’t understand, but he did. When did he talk to her enough to understand this? From what you remember: Amber hates him and Ethan is scared of Amber. What are you missing? There’s an awkward pause in the air. As if the two of them were speaking through their eyes. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Sure,” Amber finally speaks up. Ethan smiles and nods his head in satisfaction. As if he wanted you to congratulate him for his effort in trying to get closer to your best friend. You take a step forward towards the cafeteria. He reaches his arm over your shoulders while Amber links her arm around yours. You stop in shock as the two stare at each other. Amber is the one that removes her arm from you. She swears under her breath. The three of you reach a table. Ethan goes off to grab some food while Amber sits in front of you, snacking on some chips. She is disinterested in the chips. Her attention is more on you and… Ethan? She has not spoken a word. Your leg bops up and down in nervousness. You think back to the texts. You have to break up with Ethan soon or… You look up at Amber. Her eyes dilate and glisen. She tilts her head to the side and smiles widely. Plopping a chip in her mouth. You shift uncomfortably against her gaze. Ethan returns with two trays.

“Here babe. I got your favorite,” He chirps. You feel sick in the stomach from the anxiety. Food never looked so unappetizing til now. He starts chewing on his food and secretly glances up at Amber. She could not care less about him right now. She continues looking at you. As if she’s waiting for you to do something… say something…? 

Time ticks by. How long has it been? How long have you been pondering and begging for time to stop? Your heart pounds harder. Sweat starts to appear slightly on top of your forehead. Ethan seems awkward in the silence, not knowing what to do or say. Amber starts to look bored. 

“Ethan…” You hesitate. This gets both of their attention. 

“I- I have something to say” 

Ding Ding Ding. 

“Shit,” You cuss.

It’s the sound of the school bell.

Lunch is over.

The students start getting up from their seats and cleaning their area. Amber crumbles her bag of chips and tosses it on Ethan's tray. You want the earth to swallow you so you could disappear. 

Suddenly many buzzes start echoing throughout the cafeteria. The students halt their movement to retrieve their phones. Gasps can be heard from all around you. You look around and everyone is staring at you. Some looked disgusted, some in shock, some cheering and some were whistling at you. It is such a mixed reaction, you didn’t understand. Ethan opens his phone and freezes. His face immediately turns red with fear and shame. Amber opens her phone as well and widens her eyes. She hands her phone screen to you. 

“Oh my goodness… Y/n… You have to look-”

“No! Don’t look!” Ethan begs. He grips her wrist with a frantic look. He’s begging her to stop. She glares at him and tries to jerk her hand away. You decide to listen to her and grab the phone. The picture on the screen was Ethan. Nude. Doggy styling some girl, but the girl was cropped. Unidentified. But you could not care less who the girl was. It wasn’t you. 

“You’ve been cheating on me?!” You scream. The whole cafeteria quiets down. Ethan licks his dry lips and brings his hands up in an attempt to hold you. You take a step back away from him. He disgusts you now. Tears start to build up and fall over your cheeks. You bring the back of your hand to wipe the tears. You can’t let him or any of these students see you cry, 

“I- I-”

“How fucken dare you!” You cut him off, “ I trusted you! All you do in return is sleep with some bitch?! You’re fucken pathetic,” 

“Y/n… That girl… She’s-”

“Shut up!” Amber orders, “You’ve messed up enough. Don’t talk to Y/n again. She hates you.”  She gets up from her seat and walks towards you. She wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you away from the crowd. Away from all this betrayal and embarrassment. Ethan pushes against the crowd. 

“Let me explain!” He begs. You quickly turn around and shoot him the deadliest glare. 

“We are over,” You swore. His shoulders drop in defeat. The crowd shallows him with many comments and questions:

“Bro what the fuck man. Why would you do that to her?”

“I didn’t think you’d be that bad.”

“Of course. I knew he was too good to actually be good.”

“I feel so bad for Y/n.”

“Yo, that was insane!”

Amber successfully dragged you to the front of the school. A place where there are no students currently. You sob uncontrollably. You feel so frustrated, betrayed, and embarrassed. You attempt to push away from Amber. To hide your face and run away from everyone. 

“Hey, hey stop it,” Amber begins. She holds you to catch a glimpse of your face. You fight against her. Nearly knocking her over.

“Y/n,” She begs. You surrender and let her do whatever she wants. You are too emotionally unstable to do anything. She brushes her thumb across your cheek. You whimper in an attempt to stop crying. Your lips quiver and her eyes soften. You sniff as tears continue to roll down. 

“I am so sorry this happened to you,” All you could do is nod. 

“Take me home,” Your voice coarse. 

The whole car ride was quiet. Amber would glance over worriedly once in a while. You stare out the window. She nibbles the bottom of her lip. Her grip on the steering wheel was hard. After a while, she finally makes a turn into your house. You sit in silence in her car. She shifts in her seat to face you. You can hear her breathing.

“D-do you want me to stay with you tonight? You can come over to mine tonight if you want. My parents went on a business trip,” She whispers. 

“No. Thank you, Amber. I will see you tomorrow,” You answer, unbuckling your seatbelt. As you reach for the door, she holds your arm. 

“Text me tonight okay?” She requests. You didn’t answer, but she knew you would do it. 

-

You walk into your room and collapse onto your bed. You could no longer cry. You were so tired you had to close your eyes and sleep. About a few hours later you hear many knocks on your door. You stir awake feeling sick and uncomfortable. The pounding continues, forcing yourself to get up and towards the door. You open the door and see Ethan. His hair is messy and he sweats through his shirt. Seems like he has been running. You swing to slam the door shut, but he blocks it.

“Please let me explain,” He begs. You’re so sick and tired of hearing him. Sick of hearing his voice. You release your grip on the door. He walks into the room and takes a deep breath. He wastes no time seeing that this is the only chance you would let him speak.

“It’s Amber,” He confesses. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“W-what?” You breathe. 

“The girl in the picture. It’s Amber,” He could no longer look you in the eye. Your eyes begin to water again. A painful ache rises in your heart.

“Why? Why would she-”

“I don’t know. She wanted to have sex all of a sudden. We did it once. I swear,” 

“She wouldn’t do that to me,” You deny. He ruffles his hair and shakes his head. 

“She did. But she… This is so fucked… She kept moaning your name,” He rasps. His cheeks turn red. 

“What the fuck are you saying?” You cuss. This makes no sense to you. In fact, it is starting to creep you out. How many secrets did your close friends keep? How many more lies are there to break your heart? 

“Talk to Amber. She’s insane in the head. She’s obsessed with you, Y/n!” 

“Get out,”

“I will. I am so sorry for everything. Part of it is my fault. I am weak and I fell for her seduction. Please confront Amber. She has to tell you the whole truth,” He emphasizes. He leaves the room in a hurry, leaving you in disbelief. You collect your thoughts and take deep breaths. You are no longer sad. You are furious. Your body shakes in anger. 

-

You pound against her front door. Not caring how much it hurts your fist. The door swings open revealing a smiling Amber. God, you are so angry. 

“Jeez Y/n, you’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood! I said text me, not show up in front of my house like this. Not that I am complaining,” She jokes. You push her into the house, slamming the door behind you. She widens her eyes and furrows her eyebrows. 

“Tell me the truth,” You demand. She crosses her arms and shakes her head. She smiles revealing her teeth. 

“What truth?” 

“I am so sick of the lies. Ethan told me,” You fum. Her smile drops and she looks emotionless. She swallows a lump in her throat. 

“It was you, wasn’t it? The unknown caller. It has always been you,” You accuse. She blinks her eyes which threaten to glisten. Her lack of answers speaks volumes. 

“Do you hate me that much?” You whimper. Her facade breaks and she looks absolutely hurt. 

“Hate you? I love you!” She cries out. She paces back in forth in front of you, clenching her fist. You stare at her in shock.

“No, no this was not supposed to happen! Did it seem that way to you?! That I hate you? I tried so hard to reveal how much I care and love you,”

“You fucked my boyfriend-”

“Do you know why?” She giggles, getting close to your face. Her pupils were blown wide and dark. You stumble backward, but she continues to follow until you hit your back against the door. 

“I wanted to feel you. That lip of his has kissed you all over. He told me how you like to get kissed on the neck and down to your collar. That hand of his would grip your hips and pull you close to his body. His bulge would stick uncomfortably in his jeans. Your hands would unzip his pants and play with his staff. His dick burying deep inside you,” She lets out a soft moan. You clench your teeth. 

“Feeling your wet cunt rub against his dick… I can’t help but crave it. I don’t care about Ethan. Never. I cared about how I got to feel what's been in you. It turns me on so much. If I could not have you, I will take the nearest thing that got the privilege to touch you. You drive me insane. I want you,”

Her head dips towards your neck and she licks a long line up your throat. You grunt, squeezing your legs together. She leans back and hovers her lips over yours. There is no longer any personal space. Her body presses against yours. 

“The only way I can get rid of him is to expose his lack of self-control to you. I didn’t do anything wrong. He failed to deny me. I knew he was not perfect for you. I am. I was the only person you trust to read the ‘unknown’ caller texts. I was the only person you ran to for help and comfort. You picked me, Y/n. I did this for you. For us,” She purrs. She lingers a little longer over your lips before leaning to your ear. 

“Kiss me please,” She blushes, “Please Y/n. Kiss me and I will do anything for you.” You tilt your head up to clear your head from her scent. She’s drowning your sense of morality. She took that opportunity to kiss your neck. You moan. You can feel your walls starting to break down. 

“That’s it, baby. Kiss me back,” She moans. Her mouth leaves your neck and returns back to hovering over your lips. She smiles brightly after making eye contact with you. Your eyes look just like hers. Dilated and glistening. You’re turned on and she knows it. Your heart hammers against your rib cage. You push yourself off the door and crash your lips against hers. She chuckles in bliss and grinds your body on top of hers. Her hands glide up the back of you, making you arch into her. 

“Fuck Amber,” You gasp. She pulls away from your swollen lips. 

“Keep saying my name. I want to be the only name you moan from now on. Stay with me and I will make you the most loved person on earth,” She promises. You nod your head rapidly. Lust clouding your mind. 

“Yes,” You blush. 

She pulls you by the hand towards the stairs and up to her room. She locks the door as you glance around her room. You’ve been here many times. The picture frame of you and her smiling sits on her desk. You hide your smile behind your hair. You suddenly feel her arms snake around your waist. She nuzzles her nose into your neck. She inhales your scent and sighs.

“Are you ready?” She whispers. You turn around and wrap your arms around her neck. You refuse to admit that her stalking and obsessive behavior are attractive out loud. It will be the new secret you will keep inside. 

“Amber… I want you to show me how much you wanted me,” You express. 

“I will,” She smiles. She plays with the rim of your shirt. You eye her lovingly, waiting for her. She pulls up your shirt, leaving you in just a bra. The coldness of her room makes you shiver. Your skin raises goosebumps. She analyzes your body down from the waist and up.

“You’re so beautiful,” She confesses. You reach under to pull her shirt off. The chain heart necklace hits her collarbone. She quickly unclasps your bra and your nipple hardens. She brings her hands to cup your chest. She giggles in excitement. You walk backward til your heel hits the bed frame. You flick your fingers for her to follow. She comes close and kisses your collarbone as you start to lie on her bed. She kisses down from your collarbone to your chest. She sticks out her tongue and draws light circles around your right nipple. You suck in a sharp breath. She continues kissing down to your hip. Her fingers hook around your pants to pull them down. You help her by lifting your ass up. 

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” She breathes. She slightly nips the skin on the inner of your thighs. Leaving her mark. Her nose brushes against the material of your underwear. 

“Fuck me, Amber,” You gasp. She pushes the material to reveal your lovely folds. She slightly slides her fingers along them. A silky clear substance coats her middle finger. The scent of your arousal makes her drunk. 

“You’re already so wet,” She giggles. 

“So embarrassing,” You spill, covering your face with the back of your hand. She reaches up with her other hand and grabs the hand covering your face. Your fingers interlock.

“Don’t hide your face baby. I want to see you,” She smiles.

[manias-wordcount]

Just Hair (Jinx x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘃!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

She’s usually not this…quiet.

  Well. Maybe that’s a weird thing to have. Sure, she gives the impression of a chatterbox. Someone who loves the sound of her own voice. Someone who can’t stand to be ignored or cast aside. You’d be lying if you said those weren’t your immediate thoughts about her when you first met her.

  But when you think about it, it’s really not like she’s talking all the time. It’s not like she says everything in a shout or a yell or a scream. She’s not loud and explosive and in your face every waking moment of the day. In fact, sometimes you think it’s others that do the talking for her. People who rile her up. People who she riles up. Her footsteps when she wants to be seen and make a scene. The footsteps that come running towards her whenever she’s seen and there’s about to be a scene. The explosives and explosions that she creates. The explosives and explosions that she’s drawn to. It’s all so loud. You associate her loud. She is loud. 

  Even when she’s not the one opening her mouth. So you suppose that’s why you’re so curious as to why she’s being so calm and so still for you right now. She usually isn’t like this. You don’t associate her with behaviors like this. And you just can’t help but wonder: why.

  After all, all you’re doing is laying her head in your lap and brushing through her hair. Not anything important. Not anything crazy. So why?

  Why?

  You think about it as you continue your actions. Your eyes sweep around Jinx’s hideout, hoping it’ll give you some type of clue. The dolls she made a while back are still there. A not-so-successful project is strewn about a makeshift coffee table. One you distinctly remember helping her paint (and then later spray paint) not too long ago. But no dice. So you turn your attention back onto her.

  The girl who’s always on your mind.

  It’s an odd sight, in your opinion. But a beautiful one at the exact time. You’re both on an old mattress. A nicer one in your opinion. You’re sitting up, legged crossed and back straight towards one edge of the mattress while Jinx lays across your lap, head cradled by your thighs. Her signature braids are undone and long blue hair is just about everywhere in your vision as you take your time while running the brush across every single strand you have access to. And it all connects down back to her. And every time you look at her face, you can see the same expression there. Eyes closed. Face relaxed. No frowns. No worries. None of those things. Just pure bliss. Pure, pure bliss.

  It truly is a foreign sight to you. Seeing her so at peace. You would have assumed she was sleeping if you didn’t know her so well. That’s why you’re so hesitant to break the silence. So hesitant to break the stillness that sits between the two of you. But you have to know. You just have to know…

  Why?

  And so, your mouth parts finally, deciding that it’s best to come right out about it. And that’s the thing. There’s a question in there, hanging on your tongue. Dancing on your lips. It’s there. But it doesn’t come out. Not quite yet anyways. You’ve learned to be very careful with your words around her. Very careful with your questions. In the years you’ve been with friends with her, you’ve learned how fragile a hair-trigger can be. You learned how random her trigger can be as well. With things you never known. With things you’ve never expected. So you stay there, and you ponder. Thinking long, thinking hard about what you want to ask. What you want to say. And by the time the perfect sentence forms in your mind…

  “This is nice…”

  …she beats you to the punch.

  “What is?” You ask Jinx in response to her off-hand comment. She takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly. And then another. And another. And another. And another. Rinse. Repeat. But in all honesty? You’re fine with this. Never once had you stopped looking down at your friend’s expression with a curious gaze. Never once had your fingers stopped running the bristles of the hairbrush through her long hair- carefully making its way through tiny little knots here and there. 

  Your question can wait if she’s willing to share. Anything in your life could wait for her honestly. Perhaps she knows that about you. Perhaps that’s why she’s taking her time with her answer right now. You have a feeling you’ll never know. She’s always been an enigma after all.

  But she’s your enigma. And she’ll always be.

  “Nobody has brushed my hair in a long, long time.” She finally says after a long period of silence. Her voice is as quiet and as calm as her demeanor is. But there’s nothing scary about this. No silent storm here- not even in the far distance. You’re happy about that. You want it to stay that way. She deserves that. She deserves this. “So this is nice.”

  “No one?” You question, almost absently, after a little while. It’s something to fill the void, really. Something to make her feel acknowledged and seen and heard- even when you don’t quite have a response for her at the moment. “Really?”

  “I don’t play well with others,” She reminds you, a playful lilt to her voice. And although her eyes are still closed. There’s an almost proud smile starting to tug at the corner of her lips- unable to stay hidden for long. “Except for you.”

  Well…I’m glad.” At the mention of you being the exception in you are her life, you can’t help but smile your own smile. Even if her eyes aren’t open to see it. You can’t help it. The words hit straight to your heart, even if she didn’t mean anything much by them. “That makes me special.”

  “You’ve always been special to me.”

  Her eyes are open now. Her gaze is on you. And even though her dark eyes are intense, you don’t feel like you’re in danger. You don’t feel like you’re about to be hunted or stalked. You don’t feel like you’re prey. So you hold her gaze. And you try not to think about just how soft it is now that her eyes are on you. Looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world to her right now. And you want to be. Is it selfish to want that? Is it selfish to want that from her when you were once afraid of her too? Is it selfish to want that when you don’t even know her every secret yet? Is it selfish? Is it?

  “Yeah…” 

  It might be. It might be selfish. But by now, the brush in your hand has run over this section more times than you can count already. But you like just how smoothly it travels through her long, pretty hair. You like how it makes her smile a little more. You like how it makes her feel relaxed. Happy. Loved. Cherished. So you’ll do it a couple more times. Just to be sure. Just to be sure. It’s the very least you could do. She deserves that. She deserves this.

  “You’ve always been special to me too.”

  And you’re more than happy to give it to her.

[sky-is-the-limit]

+18/ AFAB!reader x Captain John Price.

Disclaimer: I'm not a writer, if you are, feel free to write this!

If there's one manspreader amongst the CoD characters, that is Captain John Price and I take no other answers. This man walks like it's heavy, the confidence that he oozes? The years of experience? I don't care what big masked man you have in mind, the second Price walks into a room, everyone shuts the fuck up and waits for him to talk first.

///

Even the sight of him makes your thighs press together in a failed attempt to calm yourself down, feeling your folds soak up, the new pair of undies that you picked this morning already ruined to solely the sound of his voice.

You can't help but wonder if he knows or if he at least suspects the undeniable attraction you feel for him, everyone else sees it. The curious looks you get every time they all leave the room but you always have to stay behind, confirm it. Sometimes you feel like it's mutual, the way he always asks for you to stay a little longer so you can go over the paperwork together, wanting to know how your weekend was.

He always wants to know the details, could it be the sound of your voice or curiosity eating him alive that you could have someone waiting for you when you're not wearing this uniform. It has come to the point where it's unbearable to even be so close to him. Whenever he hands you over the documents, his fingers lingering a bit longer as they touch yours, eyes observing you closely, trailing from your eyes to your neckline and back.

He has to know, right? Is it your desperate delusions or the fact that he asks for you to read out loud the last reports so you stay a little longer with him. It could be loneliness, you know how a man like him gets to spend most of his nights, alone in the cold room here at the base or getting drunk at the nearest pub, watching people come and go yet never building up the courage to leave with someone. Why is it always you he asks for? If it's just a dumb coincidence that your mind turns into suspicion, why is it always your name coming out of his lips like a desperate need?

Maybe it's the way he purposely asks of you to repeat the same sentence, sometimes twice cause he knows that you'll obey no questions asked. No matter how many reports you have learned by heart at this point cause you know you have his undivided attention, eyes stuck on your lips as meaningless words come out of it, only unspoken desires between the two of you.

The way he sits on that wooden chair, his muscular thighs open wide as he leans back, arms crossed over he chest like he has zero responsibilities in the world, nothing else that matters other than you in that moment. Is it your imagination or does he always pull the chair far away from the desk so you can have the full picture? He's not the most expressive man when it comes to his personal feelings, especially when dealing with someone under his command but the way his stoic manner shifts when he catches your eyes linger a little longer on his thighs.. That's when it changes.

That's when he knows he's fully in control. That a single word from his lips could make you do all the inappropriate thoughts clouding up his mind every time you stand in front of him. He has to know.

"Come closer private, you're barely just mumbling and I can't hear a damn thing." Excuses. Your voice is loud and clear. It's like the cat playing with the mouse, a predator messing with it's prey before it grabs it between it's teeth and swallows it whole. John Price is a patient man. With every mission, every colleague, every obstacle in his way. He knows how to form the best strategy, how to win the enemy, how to complete a mission but right now his well-known patience is running thin.

You can tell from the way his lip part when you nod to his overused command, never asking why, never complaining or even daring to raise your gaze to meet his. Pure submission to his every instruction that makes his imagination run wild. The way his fingers tightly grip onto his biceps when you step closer to his desk, barely blinking like he doesn't want to miss a second from the way your hips sway, your teeth sinking down onto your bottom lip as you hesitantly approach him. Yeah he's a patient man but not a saint.

"Again, private." A slight smirk forms onto his lips when he asks you once again to repeat the last sentence you were reading out. God, it must be a pathetic sight, the way you would never accept this type of sadistic behavior from anyone else but would spend hours and hours repeating the same words if it meant that you'd feel his presence so close.

The smell of his cologne mixed with the scent of smoke intoxicating your brain as you take a moment to take it all in. How would he react if he knew that this familiar scent is your only companion at night when you lay naked in your bed, fingers caressing your clit softly while thinking intensely of your Captain. How his repetitive commands obtain a different meaning when you bring your other hand up to your mouth, sucking on your own fingers before trailing them down to your nipples, feeling the sensation taking over your body while his voice is playing over and over again in your head. "Again, private." Wishing it was his fingers slowly making their way down to your entrance, covered in the outcome of his bare existence. "Again, again, again."

"Eyes up here, sweetheart." Fuck. The recall of your lonely memories cut short as you come back to reality, blinking a few times before you realise that your eyes were stuck on his thighs the entire time. You slowly gulp the saliva that gathered into your mouth from your filthy thoughts, hesitantly trailing your eyes back to meet his. You feel your skin on fire, the blood rushing up to your cheeks as your heart is pounding rapidly in your chest. If it was anyone else, you'd feel ashamed, embarrassed that you were caught staring so desperately at your superior but not him. Not to the sight in front of you.

His head is titled to the side, his form unchanged as if he was waiting for this to happen, waiting for when your eyes would finally drift from that unimportant paper to him. The gaze of a touched starved man who has finally run out of patience making you freeze into place. The prey was finally caught and.. Oh, he definitely knows.

[the-whispers-of-death]

can you do Keegan x male reader who is just a tad bit dumb. Like he is terrible at math, dense, silly, easily distracted. OH and gets lost a lot bcs he likes to wander?

I'll admit that I've never watched a play through of Call of Duty: Ghosts (I say watch because I'm not a gamer but have watched the reboot versions of Modern Warfare 1 & 2), but I have read through the Wiki pages of Keegan P. Russ, just for this. That being said, he's probably OOC (but I mean, I write all of them as softies so let's just chalk this up to that).

Another thing of note is that this civilian male reader. Also, I think I made him to be a little on the autism spectrum with the way he doesn't understand certain idioms and phrases.

I hope you enjoy!

**

Keegan loved you, in his own quiet way. He wasn't much of a talker, preferred to let you lead the conversation as you talked on and on about anything and everything. He mostly spoke to ask you something about what you were speaking on, a subtle indication that he was listening.

He loved you in the way he so patiently waited for you to solve a simple math problem, like how much difference a 10% off sale would make if the original price was fifteen dollars. He knew math wasn't your strong suit, but he didn't care. You'd arrive to the answer eventually, he knew that.

He loved you in the way he had to explain certain idioms and phrases to you, uncaring how you didn't even know that being offered to go to someone's place for a cup of coffee in the middle of night was an offer of sex. You didn't understand things sometimes and he understood that. They were intentionally vague, he'd tell you when you got flustered at being corrected about your misassumptions.

He loved you in the way you kept wandering off when walking around anywhere with him, whether it was you two walking in the park or out in a shopping center. Your attention was easily caught and it made you wander over to a plant or animal or piece of merchandise. He'd simply trail after you, smiling as you pointed out to him whatever you were looking at.

"Look, Keegan! A butterfly," you murmured, pointing at a nearby butterfly which was perched onto a flower. Its wings were so breathtaking, you just had to have stopped to look at the beautiful creature.

Keegan looked over your shoulder to the butterfly you were pointing at, chuckling in gentle amusement. "It's beautiful," he said before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind you. "But it's not as beautiful as my boyfriend."

Oh, how he relished the way you laughed and lit up in response. You loved when he called you his boyfriend, which you were. You had thought a military man—a Marine—like him would shy away from being out and proud about having a boyfriend, but he quickly proved you wrong.

His squad, the Ghosts, knew all about you. Keegan very happily told them about you, how your little quirks were so endearing. How you were the home he was fighting to go back to when he was on deployments. Oh they knew so well how much he loved you, how you were the sun and the moon and the stars of his universe.

You were everything to him and while he didn't say it often, he showed his love to you in so many ways.

How his hand reached for yours whenever you two were in a crowd so he didn't lose you if you wandered off. How he gave you the answers to a difficult math problem when you were clearly struggling to answer it. How he tried his best to word his sentences in a way that wasn't so vague so you didn't feel embarrassed about misinterpreting his words. How he drank in every word you said, relishing in the way your voice washed over him like a soothing balm to his soul.

Keegan loved you, though you were eccentric and loud where he was quiet and withdrawn. He never regretted being your boyfriend, not one single bit.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[whatitsdecending]

Chokehold: Pt. IV

Vessel x Reader x Noah Sebastian

Things have already become a little messy as you spend more time in the UK. Lies being made and overwhelming thoughts are occupying your mind, despite the need for that to not even exist.

A/N: I did not realize how quickly two weeks just flew by since I last updated… so here’s a longer part with some drama for all of you<3

Word Count: 6.3k

Content warning: instances of extreme anxiety and overthinking, distressing situations, sexual tendencies, harassment, violence

—————————

“Hey pretty girl, I’ve been waiting for you to call.” Hearing his voice on the other end nearly blindsided you. Although you were the one to initiate the call, him actually picking up is what had you nervous.

“Hey Noah.” You responded, running your hand under the water coming from the faucet to check the temperature. You heard the sound of him shuffling around, presumably in his bed due to what time it’d currently be in LA.

“Are you taking a bath right now?” He asked, you could hear the tone of his voice perk up. You roll your eyes, typical Noah. “What are you getting ready for?”

You sink into the warm water and sighed when it hit your sore cunt, knowing you’re going to be feeling all of that for the rest of the day and into tomorrow. “Nothing, I just needed to take a bath. So what’s up with the sudden urge to talk to me?” His chuckle echoed through your phone speakers and bounced around the bathroom walls, not even giving you a chance before you find yourself smiling at it.

“I miss you that’s why.” He eventually says. “How did that technology detox go? Feeling less whacked out on it?” You snorted as you remembered the excuse you told Noah yesterday after the plane landed, technology detox… how convincing.

“Yeah… feeling like I should read more now and empower my brain with that rather than a screen.” You cupped water in your hands and splashed it onto your shoulders, not wanting to fully sink into the tub because you know you’d never get out.

“Don’t you read enough already?” Noah’s serious tone wrapped around you like a glove. One of the many things that irked you a bit about him was how much he enjoyed poking fun at your hobby for reading. He’d never been the one to just sit down with one of the books you recommended and actually see why you liked it so much. “I think you need to get out of your apartment more. Maybe come spend some time out in LA with me?”

There it was.

You squeezed your eyes shut. He was so quick to say it too, he couldn’t at least ask how you’ve been first? You didn’t know how to respond and once again found yourself fumbling to put a sentence together. Your best choice would be to tell him the truth, every single piece of it too. But yet something nagged at you from the back of your mind, does he really deserve the truth?

“You’re a little late for that Noah.” You responded, taking the folded cloth on the edge of the tub and adding body wash to it and began to gently clean yourself.

“Of course I am, let me guess you’re away at your parents house?” Well, if you insist. The smile that tugged at your lips was devilish, knowing that this will become much easier without him having a clue.

“I am. I spent my technology detox catching up with them.” You hoped you were sounding convincing enough for Noah. He’s gotten pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to him, so you grit your teeth as you await his response.

A chuckle from the line filled the silence. “That’s good to hear, Y/N. I know you were missing them. Chicago is still looking nice this time of year?”

You laughed at his attempts to make such casual conversation with you, any kind of conversing the two of you did ended with him fucking you senseless. “It’s nice, a little cold. It’s snowing here too.” You looked out the window that was tucked away a bit in the bathroom, giving some form of privacy despite the fact that Vessel had no neighbors. The snow had stopped falling sometime ago but the white dust that covered every piece of nature outside was relaxing to stare at, especially now that Noah had brought up being home.

Home. You mentally punched yourself in the gut over the fact that you just hopped on a plane to go all the way to London to stay with a man you’d only seen in person once, but constantly forgot to make trips back home to see your parents. You didn't even tell them you were coming here… That’s going to have to be another phone call you make today.

“I’m sure the snow is nice right now.” Noah snickered a little over the line until you heard another voice that sounded like Jolly calling for him. “Ahh duty calls, I must help Jolly move some shit around.”

“Tell him I said hi please!” You say enthusiastically.

“I will, but I better go before he comes in here and drags me out of my bed. Talk later?” The hope in his voice at the end is what made you want to sink into the water and never return.

“Of course Noah. Now go help Jolly out before he kills you.” You laughed a bit at the end as you could hear the door opening to Noah’s room, Jolly’s voice ringing out as he grew impatient. There was a little bit of a scuffle and some mumbled arguing then the call ended. You stared at your phone that rested on the ledge next to the tub now that it's gone silent, leaving the distant sounds of Vessel cooking in the kitchen to bring you back to reality.

You rested your head back against the tub and took a deep breath. For some reason you could not shake the anxiety that racked your body after the call with Noah, it came out of nowhere and made your chest feel tight. You took long and deep breaths, knowing this method usually helped when it came to your anxiety. But this time it made you feel worse.

The thoughts you tried to hold back hit you all at once. What the hell are you doing here? Why did you say yes? You have feelings for Vessel, but were they really enough for you to come all the way here? And if Noah had asked you before he did, would this be a completely different situation? Most certainly it’d be very different, but you didn’t even want to think about that.

You stared blankly at the water that has gone from warm to a cooler temperature and left your fingers pruned. Your foot moved through the water and you watched how swiftly it moved through the liquid, it was easy. If only your life could be like that, an ease to move through. But at this point it feels like you're moving through setting concrete.

And what if Vessel only wanted you here because he was bored and wanted something to do until he went back on tour? What if all those small things he did for you was just a facade? The second he leaves for tour is the second he stops caring about you, the second that all this gets thrown away and you’re left struggling once again to find the type of affection he gave you. He could so easily walk out of your life like so many have done before, what could possibly make him any different?

Hands gripped your arms tightly, pulling you out from the trance you’d put yourself in. Your eyes burned underneath the water when you opened them and your lungs screamed at you for air. Your body was pulled up from the position it had sunk into, allowing for you to take a deep breath and wipe the water from your eyes. Vessel was yelling but it sounded muffled to you, his eyes were wide with fear as you watched his mouth to try to figure out what he was saying.

“…Y/N please just focus on me.” You perked up once your ears had unclogged themselves and his voice was finally audible. “Jesus Christ you gave me a fucking heart attack.” His hand gripped tightly on your forearm, seemingly holding you up from slipping back under.

“What happened?” You asked. The confusion you felt from how you even ended up like that in the first place was all that came to mind as you tried piecing everything together.

Vessel sighed and pushed your hair behind your ear. “I don’t know. I came up here to tell you dinner was ready, when you didn’t answer I got a bad feeling and walked in on you just under the water and not moving.” He sounded terrified and looked like it too, he had tears threatening to break from his eyes as he spoke. “Why? Why would you try to do this to yourself?”

“I-’’ You didn’t know how to answer that. “I didn't intend for that to happen.” The look on his face broke your heart. He looked like he was so afraid to lose you, and in that moment you hated yourself for all that had run through your mind just moments before. His eyes searched yours for more than what you were giving him, he eventually gave up and sighed, pulling you to him and kissing your forehead.

“We can talk about that whenever you're ready.” He says quietly, holding you as tightly as he could. “Let’s get you out before you start turning blue again.” He lightheartedly said, standing up with his hands still wrapped around your arms which brings you to stand with him. He guided you to step out of the tub and onto the mat on the floor, taking the towel that was set aside for you and wrapping it around your body. He had you sit down on the toilet so he could towel dry your hair, his torso was pushed against your back as he carefully ran the towel through the strands.

“I can do this myself, Ves.” You say as he searched for a comb.

“You’re a delicacy at the moment. Anyways, I don’t mind it one bit.” He rummaged through the drawers and cabinets, looking for where you put your comb.

“Middle drawer on the left, it’s purple.” He happily pulled the drawer open and grabbed the comb, admiring the shade of purple that it was. He came back to you and gently ran it through your hair, being careful not to tug too hard when it came to any knots that formed. He focused until each strand was pristine and knot free, placing a kiss on the back of your head as a way to appreciate his work.

“What drawer do you keep your pajamas in?” He asked as he went towards the bedroom.

“Oh Ves please, you do not need to do any more for me.” You stood to protest him, following him out of the bathroom and into the room. “I promise you I will not break in half if you don’t help me with everything. You’ve done a lot already.” Your hand wrapped around his arm, squeezing it gently to reassure him. His eyes focused on your fingers that rested on his skin. He took a deep shaky breath, then stepped away from the drawers to let you find your pajamas.

You found your favorite t-shirt to sleep in; a very large gray shirt with a dinosaur couple on it sharing a spaghetti noodle like in Lady and The Tramp. You threw the towel that was wrapped around you onto the floor, pulling the shirt over your head and searching for a pair of boxers you loved to wear.

Picking up the towel to put it back to hang up in the bathroom, you could feel him watching your every movement. As you walked back into the room his eyes were stuck on you and not leaving anytime soon. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed against his chest as he watched.

“So what did you make for dinner?” You asked, ignoring the fact that he would not take his eyes off of you.

He stood up straight and cleared his throat, eyes finally moving elsewhere. “I made potato soup. I thought the weather today made it a perfect soup for dinner kind of day.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Little do you know… I love potato soup.” His eyes lit up so bright when you said that, almost like a kid who just walked into a candy store. “But will yours be as good as my mom’s?”

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” Vessel motioned you to leave the room first, quickly following behind you. The aromas coming from the kitchen were enough to make your stomach grumble loudly. Perhaps not eating all day wasn’t the smartest idea, but that just meant you could savor this dinner as much as you wanted to.

You stepped into the kitchen and let out a gasp at the sight in front of you; Vessel had gone out of his way to make the little table in the corner look like you were about to dine in a fancy restaurant. He covered the wooden table with a white cloth, pulled out some china that looked like it’d never been used before. There was a bottle of wine on the table waiting to be poured into the glasses nearby. You glanced down at what you were wearing and felt a tad embarrassed, maybe that’s why he wanted to choose your pajamas…

“You like it?” He asks.

“I love it,” you respond, walking to one of the chairs to take a seat. Before you could even reach for the back of it, Vessel had pulled it out for you and waited for you to sit before pushing it back to the table. “Did you really do all of this for me?”

He smiled as he walked away to grab the pot of soup. “Maybe.” He filled a bowl for you and then for himself, settling down across from you with an expectant expression on his face. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

“I was waiting for you before I started, I never eat until whoever is in my company is ready to.” You say taking the spoon and picking up the thick liquid, taking a quick whiff of it before putting it in your mouth. His eyes were on you again as you let your tastebuds decide whether it was better than mom’s or not. “Hmm.”

Vessel raised a brow as you teased. “Did I beat your mum’s recipe or not?”

“Woah, slow down there pretty boy. Give me some time to decide.” You chuckled while taking another scoop of the soup to your mouth and tasting it again. It felt like you were a food critic and Vessel was the chef whose reputation depended on your word, you honestly found it adorable. “I’ll give it a 9.5/10.” His face lit up as he smiled wide, finally digging into the food himself.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you ate. The slight tension that was between the two of you after the bathtub incident had gone away, at least you felt like it wouldn’t exactly be the main topic of conversation at the dinner table. But, you remained silent anyways, not wanting the word bath to come out of his mouth.

—————————

Two days have passed since then, no word about it has been spoken between you guys. Vessel seemed to not want to start that conversation and just leave it to you to bring it up whenever you're ready, if you’d ever be ready.

You spent a lot of time cooped up in his house, sitting in silence with a book in hand and enjoying each other's company. It was really nice. A refreshing feeling in your life compared to every other failed attempt at something you would even consider a “relationship”.

He’d cook for you and you’d watch, putting random songs on that made him laugh each time he’d turn around and notice you dancing around. You’d stand behind him and place your hands on his hips, moving them around to try and get him to dance along as he laughed even harder at your attempt.

That was one of the things you were really starting to like about him; his laugh. The way his nose scrunched up and how tight his eyes would close as he let out the most genuine, hearty laugh you’ve ever heard. The times where he’d just make absolutely no noise and stand there bent over with his hands on his knees after you did something stupid were your favorite.

It was something you knew you couldn’t deny for longer, how you felt for Vessel. It was becoming so obvious to yourself now and more than likely he picked up on it too, certainly he had feelings for you as well and he was not afraid to show you that he did. But there was that part of you that was slightly afraid to admit it and show him the same.

Your eyes flickered from the words on the pages in front of you when Vessel’s phone lit up on the table beside him, a sigh coming from him as it disrupted the focus he had on the book he read. You went back to yours, realizing that you’ve completely lost where you even remembered reading last.

You rested your head back against the couch and put the book in your lap, looking over at Vessel as he smirked at his phone while typing away. You watched curiously as he paused, seemingly waiting for a response, then quickly typing again. He glanced at you while you watched and a smile now sat on his face. “How do you feel about clubbing?”

You perked up in interest. “Did it a bit when I was younger, why?”

“Just got a text from III asking if we’d want to join him and the others at a club tonight.” He sat back on his side of the couch, mimicking how you were currently sitting. “He kinda wants to meet you. As does II and IV…”

“They know about me?” You ask in surprise.

He rolled his eyes. “Well duh, Y/N. They’re my closest friends, of course they know about the beautiful American girl staying in my house.” He ended his sentence with a wink that made you blush.

“As long as I get to meet your friends and spend time with you, I think clubbing sounds like fun.” You smiled and then laughed as the thought hit you. “And maybe I’ll be able to get your ass to dance with me.”

“I’m always in the middle of making food when you try, would you rather I let it burn so I could dance with you?” Vessel is quick to sass you as he stands up and stretches. “I’ll call an Uber at 9, does that give you enough time to get ready?”

You glanced at your phone to check the time, it was only 7 o’clock. “That gives me plenty.” You hopped up from your spot on the couch, walking past Vessel and giving him a kiss on the cheek that flushed immediately after your touch.

As you headed back to the room to get ready, you couldn’t remember if you packed any clothes you’d consider clubbing attire. When you used to go all the time as a teen with all your friends, you’d pick the sluttiest thing in your closet, which would always help you get into the club despite the bouncer’s suspicion on your fake ID.

You rummaged through the closet, looking for your dresses you knew you’d packed. And nothing. Absolutely nothing. Instead of giving up hope on your past self for packing everything, you go to the dresser drawer where you had put away the skirts you took with you.

The gasp that escaped you when you realized you had packed the one skirt you’d been dying to wear came into view; it was a black leather mini skirt that zipped up on the side. You threw it onto the bed as you ran back to the closet, searching for the perfect top to go with it. You settled for a black lace bodysuit that was long sleeved and decided putting on your platform calf boots would complete the outfit well.

You never got the chance to dress up and look nice anymore, so you decided it was best to go all out. Even if you were going to be in a dark club where the only people who would be able to see your makeup would have to be standing nose to nose with you. At least you knew Vessel might like it.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror and started your makeup, taking a little bit of time to try and make sure you didn’t fuck up the eyeliner and your eyebrows too much. It was refreshing getting ready like this and feeling like your younger self again. It didn’t take long for your makeup to come out the way you wanted it to, a good sign that tonight was going to be a great one.

Finding your phone, you check the time; 8:45, not bad for being rusty in your makeup abilities. You grabbed a small purse you like to use occasionally and put your wallet and phone inside.

“Ves?” You called out as you spritzed your perfume on.

“Yeah?” His voice echoed back from his room.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” You left your room and entered his room, eyes growing wide once you saw what he was wearing; black skinny jeans paired with a black t-shirt and leather jacket, his black boots completing the attire. “Are we that emo or what?” Despite the chuckle that came from you, it was hard to take your eyes off of him and how fucking attractive he looked. He turned around and did a double take at you, his eyes wandering over every part of your outfit and face.

“Funny thing is, we’re all just going to be a group of emos.” He smirked as his eyes glanced at the amount of your thighs that were exposed by the skirt for the millionth time. “I’ll order an Uber now since I’m all good to go, and also let III know that we’re heading out.” Vessel stepped closer to you as he tapped away on his phone, after a minute he put it back in his pocket and noticed how close he’d accidentally got to you. His eyes lingered on yours again as he pushed your hair behind your ears, his fingers trailing along your jawline and lifting your chin a bit to examine your makeup. “You look good, really good.”

Your cheeks heated up as he kept his fingers on your chin, his thumb ran over your bottom lip with a little force. “Are you trying to smudge my lipstick?” You asked, lightly swatting his hand away.

A smirk curled at his lips. “I’m just testing it to see if it’ll stay after a makeout or two.” He grinned cheekily as you shoved at his chest making him stumble back a tad. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the notification coming from the Uber informing you that they had arrived.

You followed Vessel downstairs, letting him lead the way to the car waiting outside for the two of you. The Uber rolled down the window and double checked that she was picking up the right people, after Vessel confirmed it was right he opened the back door for you to get inside, letting you settle before shutting it behind you.

The Uber turned in her seat and looked at your outfit. “My dear you are beautiful, I love the top.” You smiled wide at her compliment and thanked her, returning the compliment on her brighter hair color.

Vessel joined you in the backseat and the driver pulled off, putting on some music for you to listen to. Vessel’s hand rested on your thigh as he stared out the window, you watched him as the passing lamp posts illuminated his face ever so often and he would tap his fingers along with the beat of the song playing on the radio. You placed your hand on top of his, pushing your fingers between his and encasing his hand with yours. The size difference was a little silly, especially since yours was on top, but it didn’t matter to you.

The drive took only thirty minutes from his house to the club that was in the middle of London. It was pretty packed already, a line was extended out the door as a bouncer slowly let people in.

“You can drop us off here,” Vessel says. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Thank you honey!” You say as you got out of the car and waved to the sweet driver. Vessel’s hand rested on your hip as he guided you to the sidewalks, his eyes scanning around for the familiar sight of his friends. The brisk air hitting your bare thighs sent shivers up your spine as you found yourself trying to look for them too, but realizing you had no idea what they looked like.

You noticed the group of three guys standing together, one waving over at the two of you and the others in a conversation with one another. Vessel’s pace quickened a bit as you grew closer to the group, watching as the tallest of them was giving Vessel a thumbs up the entire time.

“Gentlemen.” Vessel says sarcastically, earning a glare from the one who stood more eye level with you. “This is Y/N.” He motioned to you. “Y/N, this is III, II and IV, my bandmates.” The tallest out of the four of them and the one giving Ves a thumbs up was III, a bright smile on his face as he reached to shake your hand. The shortest (and probably the one who looked the most innocent) was II, he took your hand in his and kissed it after saying a hello. IV is who you stood eye level with but only because of the shoes you were wearing. Instead of taking your hand in his, he opted for pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m a hugger, sorry.” He says as he felt you tense up a bit, not expecting a hug.

You just smiled and hugged him back. “That’s alright, hugs are never a bad thing.” IV pulled away with a grin on his face and turned his attention to your outfit, he gave you the “okay” symbol with his hand and a nod of approval.

“Let’s get inside as soon as possible before you freeze.” II pointed out the fact that you were shivering, leaving Vessel to swiftly put his jacket over your shoulders and wrap his arm around you to pull you into him. “I was waiting for you to do that for her.”

“Shut up.” Vessel said as he turned to the line. It had shortened quite a bit since you’d arrived, now only a couple of people stood waiting to be let in. Thank goodness because it was really cold out and you needed a drink.

Luckily the bouncer just glanced at all of your IDs and let you inside, he clearly had enough of dealing with people for the night and at this point did not care who he let in. III had taken over leading the group through the club as he had a clear path splayed out in front of him of where he wanted to go. He stopped at a larger booth towards the middle of the club that was pushed further away from where the dance floor was in comparison to some other booths. He flung himself in and sat in the middle, letting II and IV fill in next to him. Vessel motioned for you to sit and he followed, squishing you a bit against his shoulders and IV’s.

A waiter had come over and III was shouting an order for shots over the loud music, giving him a thumbs up as he walked away. You sat back and listened as the boys caught up with each other, constantly yelling back and forth with Vessel occasionally leaning against you in order to hear II a little better.

Once the first round of shots arrived, you had become part of the conversation as it moved onto concerts, a topic you were very familiar with. You all cheered each other with your shots, then threw it back into your mouth. The liquor burned at your esophagus as you did your best not to make any faces at it. After not drinking as much as you used to, you weren’t exactly that great at hiding the fact that you hated tequila.

“Are you not one that likes tequila?” III shouts to you.

“I’m not one to do tequila shots.” You laugh at yourself, the others join you. Vessel draped his arm over your shoulders, his fingers traced delicate patterns on the fabric of your body suit. His face was close to yours, as you felt his lips grazing against your cheek.

The boys cheered on the waiter as he brought two more rounds of shots for the table. Vessel laughed at them as they downed them with ease, you on the other hand watched in jealousy. You brought two shot glasses to sit in front of you, taking one in your hand and throwing it back. The burning wasn’t as bad as the first time, but it still made you make a face.

“You’re keeping them down at least, that’s a good sign.” II shouted from across the table. “Please do not throw up. I don't want to see that.”

You shook your head. “Oh I don’t throw up anymore. Too many years of partying has turned my stomach to steel when it comes to most alcohols.”

“Most.” IV teased. You gave him a good shove as you raised the next shot to your lips, this third one going down a lot easier. “See you just needed to warm up a bit, miss party girl.”

“That’s exactly right.” You said, leaning back to rest against Vessel’s chest. He held you close with one hand that pressed gently against your stomach, you both sat and listened to the conversation the others had. It was interesting to see how they interacted in a regular setting compared to on stage, their personalities were so different but yet at the same time, you could see their stage presences shine at some points.

The first notes of the song that you always had to dance to when you were in a club began to play: S&M by Rihanna. You were a basic woman, you hear Rihanna come on you have to dance along to it. You sat back up quickly, turning to push at Vessel to get him out the booth.

“Move I need to go dance.” You say, shoving him closer to the edge.

“You like this song?” He asks with a smug look on his face, leaving the booth and putting a hand out for you to take.

“I love it, actually.” You say as you stand up. “And you’re going to dance with me.” Your grip tightened on his hand and you pulled him to the dance floor, where many people crowded around and danced to the beat of the song. Pushing your way through a bit until you found a spot you liked, letting go of Vessel’s hand so you could move around. The alcohol in your system really had you feeling yourself and the confidence boost it had given you was like no other, allowing you to move your hips around like no one was watching.

Your eyes flickered up to meet with Vessel’s, noticing they were fixated on you as you danced around. You smirked as you took one step forward and pressed your body against his, taking his hands to rest on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his face closer to yours, your nose brushing against his.

In one sudden gesture, Vessel had flipped you around and pressed his chest into your back. His one hand now resting on your lower stomach, and the other? He couldn’t help but place it around your neck. Your eyes closed at the light pressure he was applying on it, a new found butterfly fluttering around in your stomach from the sensation.

The song ended and transitioned into another one that wasn’t as fun to dance to. You pulled Vessel off the floor and back to the booth, noticing another round of shots on the table. You laughed at how pleased III looked with himself and choice of liquor.

“Are you ever going to order an actual drink?” You shout at him, noticing that II and IV had separate drinks they were sipping at.

“No! Those aren’t as fun.” He protested.

You shook your head. “Well you have fun with that, I’m going to find the restroom.” They all waved you off, except for Vessel who landed a smack on your ass as you walked away.

The restrooms weren’t too hard to find as the bright neon sign practically blinded you no matter where you stood in the club. You only went in there to check on your makeup, specifically because of Vessel choking you a bit as you danced. Your eyes teared up some and you couldn’t help but wonder if it messed up your eyeliner at all. Standing at the mirrors you checked your eyes closely, noticing nothing smudged. Perfect. Your hair got a little messed up though, but nothing that didn’t add to the intensity of your look already.

Your ears were ringing from being around the loud music and your throat felt a little scratchy, probably from the amount of yelling you’ve been doing trying to have a conversation with the group. Perhaps a club wasn’t the best choice for your first time meeting Vessel’s band… oh well you were having a great time and couldn’t really care about the practicality of it all.

Once you were satisfied with yourself, you left the bathroom and returned to the loud club. Squeezing past multiple people making out along the back wall and eyeing the small group of people doing lines, you accidentally bumped into someone while you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You shout to the man, hoping you didn’t spill anything he was holding. He turned around and the expression on his face went from annoyed to elated.

“Is alrigh’ darlin’.” He slurred, patting your shoulder. You gave him a smile and went to head to the booth, when you realized he would not let you move from in front of him. “Where… do ya think you’re goin’? Come dance with me…” His hand gripped your shoulder tightly as he pulled you towards the dance floor.

“No, I’m not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You pry at his hand that was seemingly glued to you, his grip was that strong. “Man let go of me!” That only spurred him to drag your body to be pressed uncomfortably tight against him, the smell of alcohol poisoning your airways as he breathed heavily on you.

A loud smack and a sharp pain rang from your ass as his hand came down hard against it, giving it a painful squeeze afterwards. You were quick to react; shoving him away as hard as you could muster and then landing a hard blow on his face with your fist. The people around you gasped as he fell to the floor covering his nose that was bleeding profusely. Your arm raised again as you stepped over him, about to give him another for good measure, until a hand wrapped around your fist. You turn around and see that Vessel was standing behind you, his eyes burning into you.

“Good god woman.” II said as he stood by Vessel’s side, analyzing the damage you did.

III and IV came over and pulled us away. “Security is coming, we gotta bounce.” Vessel kept you close as you followed the others out the back door of the club and into the freezing night. You walked a few blocks until it was decided security wouldn’t go that far looking for you.

“What the hell happened?” Vessel was the first to speak, his voice remaining calm as he could tell you were shaken up.

“Um-” You begin, but cut yourself off as you hissed at the pain that started to radiate from your fist. “I was coming back from the restroom when I accidentally bumped into that guy. I said sorry and tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. He had such a tight grip on my shoulder and he wanted me to dance with him. He then held me super tight against his body and smacked my ass hard, I’m probably going to have a bruise.” You glanced at your hand that had a splatter of the man’s blood on it. “So I just punched him.”

Vessel held your hand gently as he examined it, careful to not press too hard against your bruising knuckles. “You okay?” He whispered.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay once I take some pain meds.” You shrug.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern and his eyes burrowed deep into yours. “I didn’t mean like that.” It clicked in your mind, he was asking about how you were mentally. You glanced at the others that stood around, clearly worried about you as well. All you could do was shrug in response, not exactly feeling like breaking down crying in the middle of a London alley right now.

Vessel nodded and glanced at the boys over his shoulder, giving some sort of unspoken message to them. “Let’s get you back home then, yeah?”

You smiled at him. “That would be wonderful.”

[beybaldes]

so can we pretend sweetly before the mystery ends?

summer sleepover masterlist

will kitman x gn!reader

summary : “staying at a hotel but theres only one bed”

an : I am an absolute sucker for one bed trope and forced proximity especially when they both want each other so bad but don’t know it yet 😩

Considering you’d made all of the bookings for the hotel you were meant to be staying in the night of the away game, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d booked one room short.

Poor Will had been waiting for his name to be called as keys were handed out and when it never was, he came shyly over to you, barely able to look you in the eye as he asked why he didn’t have a room. You’d definitely booked the right amount of rooms, but when you approached the help desk they’d told you they were fully booked and had no other rooms available. So, given it was your mistake - and the fact you highly doubted you’d have many people stepping forward and offering to share - you asked Will if he was okay sharing a room with you.

When the flush on his face had calmed and he’d managed to get through a whole sentence without stumbling and stuttering over his words, he bashfully answered ‘yes.’

That was how you’d ended up in bed with the teams kitman, both of you stiff as boards and neither of you willing to say the first word. In the stress of trying to make sure Will had somewhere to go, you’d forgotten your booked yourself a single bed room, and you and Will trying to share while staying in your own space was proving incredibly hard.

Maybe things would’ve been easier if you didn’t have such a huge crush on him, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Will, however, felt like his heart was in his mouth, every time he breathed his arm brushed against yours and it was driving him crazy.

When a whole hour had passed without either of you moving or even trying to get to sleep, you let out a loud sigh. It was only for one night, you could do this.

“Cuddle me.” It wasn’t a question. Will’s face flushed entirely and he couldn’t get any words out. “Or I’ll cuddle you, or we can just like, hug? I don’t mind. It’ll be easier then trying to fit side by side comfortably.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you-“

“I’m sure I promise.”

Will had taken you up on the hug-cuddle offer, your face tucked into his chest and his chin resting a top your head. You had to practically drag his arm over and around you and even then, he spent a solid five minutes hovering it over your waist rather then just laying it on you. When you thought he’d finally relaxed into the situation, his entire body stiffened once more. “You okay there Will?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He answered, though you didn’t really believe him. Will was perpetually anxious, but this was even more so then usual. “I’m, I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

His reply was instant. “You.”

“Me?” You were thankful your face was burrowed into his chest, so that he couldn’t see the way your face flushed at his instant and certain response.

“Yeah. You. This. I’ve thought about this before but i never thought it’d happen.” Will clarified, his hand finally resting against your back once again, he even let his fingers venture up at down, rubbing gently. As quickly as he’d settled into the situation, he’d frozen again. “Oh my god, that totally sounded creepy, didn’t it?”

“No, you’re okay, Will.” Your lips was bit back between your teeth, trying to hide the laugh you knew was only going to make him feel worse. Sometimes, you thought, Will was so unbelievably cute that you didn’t know how he was still single. “I’ve actually though about this before too. About you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Cool.”

The next morning, as everyone loaded themselves back onto the coach, it was very well noted that you and Will were holding hands; talking to each other in hushed and flushed whispers and laughing at practically everything the other said. Even Roy found the scene endearing, his want for the two of you to get together greater then his repulsion to public displays of affection.

“Well, about time, eh coach?”

“About time indeed, coach.” Beard didn’t even have to look at Ted to see the wicked grin he was struggling to bite back.

“What did you do?”

Ted gasped, as though he was appalled beard would even suggest that he had done some meddling to cause the two of you to cross the line from friendship to relationship that you had been towing for some time now. However, Beard knew him too well for that, rolling his eyes as Ted’s offended facade fell. “Nothing an unorganised hotel wouldn’t have done.” Beard struggled to bite back a laugh. “Should we get going, Macaulay Culkin?”

[bardic-tales]

Happy STS

What’s the easiest part of writing for you?

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Happy STS, Andi. Thank you for the ask and I hope you have a wonderful day.

I feel the easiest part for me is making my characters relatable. I love diving into their emotions, motivations, and quirks, as I try to find a way to connect them to human experiences, even if their situations are somewhat fantastical. For me, it's capturing the little moments, whether it's a character's hesitation before making a tough decision, their reaction to heartbreak and grief (which is the focus of Fantasy Worlds Collide), or the way they react to unexpected kindness.

These little details breath life into a character, making them feel like they are real people that the reader can interact with. When I stay connected to the characters' inner worlds, I find that dialogue and actions flow naturally.

As for advice, I have been writing over 30 years. I also self-published two novellas, so I'm going to draw from that experience and what I learned on the way to where I currently am: a woman with reams of information on a passion project fusing together original content with fandom.

Don't worry if you can't always hit the high world count; even writing a single word a day can help build momentum. Setting small, daily quotas -- like a single sentence or a paragraph -- can make the process less daunting and increase daily output without you even knowing.

Also, it is important to remember not all feedback is about you. This is more on the publishing end of things: like selling on Amazon. Sometimes, reviews are for the other readers / consumers than the author. You also do not have to respond to ANY review, as an author. Sometimes, a non-response says more to someone trying to make you feel 'bad' for writing an unpopular ship than it is to lambaste the reviewer. Accept constructive criticism, but do not let it stifle your voice. Do not compare yourselves to others. I like to associate authors as architects. For every Frank Lloyd Wright's 'Fallingwater', there are smaller buildings. These smaller buildings can be just as impressive and even cozier than Fallingwater.

And, finally, read. Read often as this will help an author stay inspired and refine techniques.

[juminies]

before I met you,

jumin finds that writing vows is somewhat more complicated than anticipated

jumin x reader, 1038 words, fluff

♡

He draws a single line through a sentence he’s written (rewritten) 10 times already. Huffs as he puts his pen down. He had been so confident about this a few hours ago!

Elizabeth 3rd jumps up onto his desk upon hearing his displeasure; knocks the pen to the floor as she does with a disconcerting clatter that makes Jumin wince slightly. She nudges her head against his arm. He retracts it and runs his hand through his hair, pushing stray strands out of his face, then returns it to to scratch under her chin. He rests against his other hand, squishing his face into a slight pout.

“Am I overthinking it?” he asks her. She leans into his pets, purring as he continues, “I feel this would be much easier if I had someone to run it by. V would be the obvious suggestion, but he’s almost impossible to get a hold of these days. I could request Assistant Kang’s advice, but I highly doubt she’d like to be involved with my personal business”—a pause—“and I forgot I gave her a vacation. Tsk.”

The feline leisurely stretches herself out over his notes in response.

His tone becomes more of an indirect musing as he adds, “Luciel already shared that link to the strange wedding forum which turned out to be relatively useless, and I can’t see Yoosung nor my father being particularly helpful in this area for vastly different reasons. Zen could have an idea because of acting… but no. I would rather not bicker over my wedding vows.” He bends down to pick up his pen from the floor. “Maybe I’ll keep him in mind as a last resort.”

Jumin knows how he feels about you. He feels it so, so deeply that there’s absolutely no mistaking it — love resonates from his very being when he’s so much as in your presence. What you’ve done for him, what you continue to do for him, there’s no doubt that you’ve changed him for the better. He only hopes he can continue to be the same for you. But how to express it in words barely comes naturally to him after so long keeping all emotion bottled away. It still feels a bit awkward, sometimes, even confessing his love to you aloud.

“You’re good with words,” you’d told him once. “Do you know that?” He does know, he told you. Being good with words had always been one of his strongest capabilities. It’s something he’s proud of. He’s succinct, confident, persuasive. Usually. For some reason when it comes to you he often finds himself practically tongue-tied. Not to mention he’s never been put in a position that makes him feel so vulnerable.

He looks back to Elizabeth 3rd. “I can acknowledge that you won’t be at all insightful either way, but I could at least use a practice audience.”

He gently shifts her off of the paper he’d been writing on and picks up the most recent draft, clearing his throat as his eyes scan over the first couple of lines.

“Before I met you, I—”

Then he’s interrupted by a soft piano melody drifting from his phone.

“Jumin,” you chime when he picks up. Hearing you call his name immediately washes away the discontentment he’d been feeling just moments prior. “I texted you a little while ago but you didn’t respond, so I thought I'd call in case you didn't see. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be there soon. I know you don’t like sudden interruptions much.”

“Considerate as always. Thank you.”

“You better not have been working on your day off.”

He smiles. “Not a morsel of C&R related activity is going on here, don’t worry.”

“Good. I’ll see you in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Thirty?” he asks.

There’s a long pause before you admit, “...An hour.”

“Alright.” A warm chuckle. “I’ll see you then.”

“I love you!”

“I love you too.”

—

“Forty-seven minutes,” Jumin confirms as you let yourself into the penthouse. “I’ll try to be more precise next time,” you tease as you walk into the kitchen and begin to carefully unpack two slices of cheesecake from the bag you’d been carrying them in. You click your tongue upon noticing one of them is slightly messed up from the journey over.

“How was your morning?” Jumin asks. He leans to rest on the kitchen island beside you.

“I met a nice older woman while I was browsing in the bakery nearby. She stopped me to tell me I look like C&R Jumin Han’s wife.”

“Wife?” he echoes. He likes the way the word feels, he’s come to find. “What did you tell her?”

“Well I was a bit surprised. Nobody has ever told me I look like your partner rather than just asking if I am. Typically I try to avoid answering, because I don’t know who’s asking. Of course I’m proud beyond belief to be marrying you”—you bite back a smile as his face lights up—“but you know how I am with not wanting to draw too much attention to myself. I just wanted my cheesecake.”

“Beyond belief?” Jumin asks.

“Of course,” you reiterate, leaning in quickly to press a kiss to his lips before turning around to grab dessert plates from a cupboard. “But that’s besides the point! I wasn’t in a hurry, and she seemed sweet, so I laughed and told her I actually am his fiancée.”

“What did she say?”

“She didn’t believe me!”

“Oh? How dare she accuse my dearest wife-to-be of being a liar.” There’s a grin on his face when you turn back to him that couldn’t possibly disguise the fact that he finds it just the slightest bit amusing. “We ought to track her down and tell her off.”

“We could invite her to the wedding to prove a point,” you suggest as you move the cake to the plates and slide Jumin the less beat-up piece. Something about the gesture makes the idea of finishing his vows seem a lot less intimidating all of a sudden.

He switches his plate with yours before speaking again. “The more people who get to see you make me your husband the better.”

[bluebugjay]

Drugstore Perfume analysis yay!

Characters:

'She' - being sung about

'I' - the narrator

'They' - ?? (the haters)

Key:

Bold / Italics = Lyrics

Non italics = Analysis

She waits at windows

Her dreams don't show in color,

and she sleeps

For now

But she just waits around

Whole first section basically saying she is stuck and seemingly given up on her 'dreams' (they don't show in color meaning they haven't been realised yet) she's waiting at windows, watching other people live their lives whilst she's stuck behind the glass, waiting around

Wishing she could leave, single mothers

In parking lots

And wear another girl's evening out

This place lets you down, easy

She wants to escape her current life, the responsibilities that come with it the monotony and wear another girl's evening out. She seems to believe she's incapable of living her life like the other girls and wishes she could. This links to the name of the song as well 'Drugstore Perfume', its a cheaper option, one possibly looked down upon as not a 'proper' perfume, just another way she doesn't fit in with the other girls

She gets up to buy a drink

I notice why when she walks by

There's something caught in her eye,

First mention of 'I'. Something being caught in her eye reminds me of the saying 'a twinkle in your eye' and the use of 'caught' rather than stuck, or a more negative sounding word makes me think its a good thing there's something in her eye, not in a literal sense but as if the 'twinkle' is hope for her dreams, circling back to the first section implying she hasn't fully given up and deep down there's still a chance

she says, That she can't change for love

And she explains how long she's waited for

She wanted more

She can't change for love implies someone has asked her to change, someone who 'loves' her but she just can't even for that. The use of waiting again but the sentence is left unfinished, she's waited for...? At this point we don't know for sure but assumably it's whatever her 'dreams' are. She wanted more, also suggests this isn't what she expected, seems like she's not done anything wrong but is being punished anyways by being kept waiting at the window

Dead leaves, desperate summers

All-ages club, and metal shutters to keep you out

Dead leaves, desperate summers seems to represent time passing, autumn to summer is one whole year so this is referencing how long she's waited and been stuck where she is, years. All-ages clubs probably signifies she's young still and metal shutters I think are more symbolic, she's not necessarily actually been shut out of the clubs but in a metaphorical sense maybe she's not fitting in, people are not including her, she feels left out. but she can't change for love

While we hang around factories

Till we meet each other

Two discount lives and heavy numbers

To keep you down

Factories seems too specific not to be symbolic. Factories are where products are built and made, I think if we know she's young this is a kind of 'coming of age' metaphor, she's hanging around factories, she is the product and she's finding herself, creating herself. This is further backed up by 'two discount lives', products (sometimes made in factories) get discounted. Her life is discounted as it feels broken or unfit or even only half there, because when something is discounted the price is reduced. Also she and the narrator are interacting now, they are a 'we'. Both of them are in the same position thinking their lives are discount, they're both hanging around factories

If I wait around, maybe she

Might come back to say that I'm

Not sure you know my name, that's fine

But take me with you this time, she says

The 'come back' seems like we've jumped forward in time, the narrator was looking back before and now is in the present. seemingly the narrator and her have gone separate ways and the narrator wishes she would come back and want the same as they do, to not be separate. Not sure you know my name, is interesting as if these were two people who'd met already surely they'd know each others names so it's possible these are just characters representing concepts rather than actually people themselves, the narrator not knowing her name meaning she's not something they're familiar with or fully understands or has come to terms with yet. But even as the narrator knows this, they still want her back

That she can't change for love

And she explains how long she's waited for

She wanted more

Chorus again, after the time jump is seems repeating this with no change suggests she still feels this way, she's still waiting, wanting to leave the window, she still wants more than she's been given now

Gone, today

I might just see you around

It hurts but I understand

If you can't find another reason not to stay

This again is the narrator hoping to meet her again saying it hurts to be without her but they understand why she might not want to leave where she is. With where she is, being trapped waiting behind the window from the first section. It's unclear as this part is from the narrators perspective how she feels, whether she would want to stay or not, if she's waiting for something it seems maybe she won't leave until that thing arrives

And while she's walking away, she says

That she can't change for love

And she explains how long she's waited for

She wanted more

And as these days go by

They can't change how long we've waited for

A love that's more

A love that's more

The chorus again but with a twist at the end. The use of the word 'they' for the first time saying 'they can't change', going back to the line 'she can't change for love' seems like the people being referred to here are the people who don't accept her and with the use of 'we' again, the narrator too, and want them to change. But they can't change. And we finally get the answer to what they've been waiting for and dreaming of, 'a love that's more'. More being unconditional. More being without the need for them to change. They're waiting to be accepted as they are. She is still waiting at the window for a love that's more but it seems the narrator is just waiting for her. Going back to the thought she is more like a concept than a character, she could represent the thing people want to change, she's hidden away, waiting to be accepted and loved but the day just isn't coming. Whereas the narrator could be the person who people want to change, they're trying to accept who they are knowing they can't change, they want her to come back so they can keep the aspect of them she represents with them, and out from behind the window. In that sense the love that's more is the love between them, between a person and themself, a person and all the parts of themself everyone else can't accept, self-acceptance. She and the narrator are one in the same. It's a search for self-love

So to try and summarise, it's a song about a personified aspect of the narrator who is hidden away, waiting to be loved. The narrator seems to start off pretty lonely and secluded and insecure then in the face of not being accepted attempt to accept themself, give themself that 'love that's more' as no one else is. It's technically left open ended whether she leaves the window or not but the use of 'we' at the end and the repeating chorus could imply a happy ending (or at least that's what I like to believe)

also I think with a song so complex it's bound to mean a bunch of different things to a bunch of different people so this is just my take on the song, not saying its the only one or even the right one :)

[drdemonprince]

hi, i was following the discussion around the ask regarding the “top shortage” article, and i’m honestly a prime example of the issue at hand; i don’t think i’ve ever initiated a successful interaction and thus far my sexual history has relied entirely on being approached by others.

there’s some garden variety fear of rejection (the mortifying ordeal of being known and all that) and some autism at play but what i find interesting and have been completely unable to unpack, is that i am in fact a quite effective communicator if i come across someone else who is also able to communicate well. the greatest hurdle in my experience is that trying to state my needs, ask for what i want, and solicit the same from the other person if they are not operating on a very high level of communication and transparency feels like swimming upstream through molasses. i simply don’t know how to navigate what feels like interrogating the other person just trying to small talk because they’re giving me single sentence answers with no elaboration on any discussion topic

you stated as a contrapoint to the idea of a top shortage that in your experience regardless of what community or sub-community you’re in “[when i make] any active attempt [] i’m drowning in options” . i’m understandably envious of this. really what i’m asking is what is the anatomy of an “active attempt”? is there a bullet list or perhaps a flow chart for how to guide the interaction towards the kind of discussion actually leads to getting laid?

So first, I'll say that while communication is always an interplay between at least two people and it must be responsive and dynamic (and if one can't communicate with a variety of types of people, one is not a good communicator) -- you can't squeeze water from a stone. There are many bad communicators online and in the kink and dating scenes, and if you find someone is sending the dryest possible texts imaginable and not giving you anything to work with, it's usually time to cut your losses and move on.

That said. Not everyone can easily put all their fantasies into words at the drop of a hat, but that doesn't mean they can't express their desires. This is where having a kinky tumblr or redgifs account or fetlife can really come in handy. Everyone has hang ups about what they want to some degree, and everybody runs out of ideas sometimes, and so trading pics and fics and porn videos back and forth with one another and taking note of what a partner of yours likes/reblogs and folding that into your own sexual repetoir is always an excellent move that shows you are considerate and communicative -- and it is itself a form of communication.

Some of my best partners over the years have been people who've been able to use the sending of an erotic gif or short story or video to get the conversation going and direct attention and desire. Plus exploring one another's kinks can really expand your own sexual palate of things you're into or down for, which means more future adventures for you either way! Communication is not only words, it's an act of inviting another person into your realm of experience and that can be physical, visual, aural etc.

As for how to go about actively communicating on say, fetlife or a dating app (or even tumblr, i've met people on here!):

I write in moderate detail about what I'm into, and I make it sound hot and fun! It's not a laundry list of expectations that I have in a partner or play scene, it's not a diatribe about hang ups or frustrations I've had on the site or with other people, it's bubbly, and infectious, and outlines some of my favorite things to do.

I've heard many times from strangers that even just reading my profile(s) has opened up their interest to a whole realm of activities and play themes that had never ever appealed to them before. This means I get a lot of curious questions and interest right off the bat, and from there I can review people's own profiles, ask them what they are into (that's usually how I word it, what are you into, or what kinds of play have you gotten into lately, etc), and take it from there. It always evolves pretty naturally because I take a genuine interest in people and want to hear all about their past activities and present interests and it flows easily from there.

And on the flip side, if I see that someone else is cute, or they have mutual interests to mine, I reach out to them, tell them how I feel, ask questions relevant to the kink, and again just direct a lot of interested genuine attention their way while also sharing excitedly about the stuff i've done and the things i'm into. In either case, whether I've been contacted or am contacting someone, if the vibes are good I move pretty quickly to escalate to actually meeting up or doing something, usually within a few days (or that same night if its that kinda app lol).

I dont know, if the interest is mutual and both parties are open and excited it all moves pretty easily! Doesn't mean every encounter is all that much fun, some people you just dont have chemistry with in person -- but you want to identify people who are compatible and who can express themselves openly as quickly as possible, kindle that connection, and then escalate it to real contact quickly as well. And communicating openly is not about being the best writer or orator, it's a question of spirit -- is the person closed off, or are they genuinely excited to share themselves with you and to take you in. And that's worth asking about oneself as well: am i an open, enthusiastic, present listener. but, like i said, this also means ignoring or fading away on plenty of dry, nothing-there messages.

I wonder if in your case getting more in touch with who and what you desire in an active way rather than a responsive way could be helpful, since you mentioned mostly only having success when approached. Maybe you can challenge yourself to find at least five people you find hot and message them this week. And take notice of feelings that you have about that, or people that you tell yourself you don't deserve to message, or any other points of resistance you feel internally and what that resistance sounds/feels like. and then contacting the person anyway.

[monokub-twice-removed]

For the writing requests, Parfait x Raspberry Cookie if it isn’t a bother….I’m starved for content of them TwT

Prompt: Either Parfait teaching Rasp how to play the guitar or Rasp being Parfait’s bodyguard during a concert

You got it, friend!

(PS after a bit I just start calling them Parfait and Raspberry because I didn’t feel like typing Cookie over and over again)

Parfait Cookie sat on the edge of her bed, mindlessly strumming on her guitar in an attempt to come up with a melody for her new song. She’s been stuck on this one for a while, she just couldn’t come up with anything for this new single! She had the worst case of musician’s block to date!

A gentle knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts, she opened the door and was greeted by a pleasant sight. It was her girlfriend, Raspberry Cookie!

“Hey, babe, are you still struggling with that new song you’ve been talking about?” Raspberry said sweetly and invited herself in, “Yeah.” Parfait replied “I just can’t come up with anything, my mind’s a total blank!” She droned. “Well maybe you just need a break?” Raspberry suggested and sat on Parfait’s plush bed. Her scarlet eyes drifted over to the guitar sitting next to her, a thought came across her head. She chuckled lightly, her voice flowing like honey as always, “Y’know, I’ve always wanted to learn guitar! I just never had the time, maybe you can teach me sometime?”

When Parfait heard the last few words of that sentence her face lit up! Teach Raspberry how to play the guitar? That sounded like an amazing idea! “We could do that right now, I have plenty of spares!” She chirped, Raspberry was a little startled by this assertion, that was quick! “Yeah, let’s do it right now whilst I have the time!” Raspberry hummed.

Parfait went to her “guitar cove” as she called it, it was a collection of guitars she’d use if her main one ever broke or wouldn’t tune up properly. Her hand hovered over the stringed instruments, eventually she settled on a blue one that matched her girlfriend’s hair bow. She handed it to Raspberry and sat next to her with her own in hand.

“Do you have any experience with guitar?” She asked Raspberry giggled nervously in response “No, not really. But I can always give it a shot!” She exclaimed. Parfait smiled “Absolutely! Why don’t you give her a couple of test strums? See if she’s in tune?” Raspberry nodded. She began to strum on the instrument, it was certainly in tune but to be nice you could say that her guitar skills weren’t quite on par with her sword skills.

Her sharps sounded like flats and her flats sounded like sharps! How was that even possible?

Parfait gritted her teeth in response to the sound, Raspberry finally stopped, thank the Witches! “How was that?” She asked confidently, Parfait cringed, “It was… good. But it can be better!” She replied “Follow along with me, I’ll teach you everything I know!”.

Parfait started strumming on her own guitar, one hand on the neck holding specific strings down to create beautiful cords and another drifting up and down the strings effortlessly, Raspberry took note of what her love was doing and started following along.

After some rough spots the two soon began to harmonize, the sounds of the guitars blending seamlessly! And eventually they drifted off into a rather nice melody, it was almost hypnotic. It was perfect for Parfait’s new song! Before she could write everything down Raspberry said the last thing she wanted her to say!

“Oh, my! Look at the time, I seriously need to go, I’m gonna be late!” She gave Parfait a quick kiss on the cheek “Bye, hun!” She said in a hurry. Before Parfait could say anything Raspberry was already out the door! But it’s okay, fortunately it just happened so she can remember all the cords!

How did it go? A, C, F? No, that wasn’t it! Was it C, C, B? No! Curses! Parfait’s horrible short-term memory got in the way of things again!

End

Hope you enjoyed that! It was fun writing for a ship I haven’t wrote anything for, I hope this satisfies your hunger!

[m34gs]

20, 41, 50 ❤️

Thank you for the ask! (from this post)

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Oh yeah. There's a lot of patterns. I sometimes reread the things I've written (after all, I write them for me) and I see there's quite a few words I seem to be partial to, I like a lot of the same transitional sentences, and the way I describe emotions tends to be very focused on physiological responses to the feelings.

Sometimes, it's a little embarrassing. (Out here doing my best trying not to think about how many times I wrote the word "uneventful" in the first chapter of Inconvenience Store...😔) But once I've posted a fic, I don't edit it unless I'm really really bothered by something.

41. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

I think I've mentioned something like this a while ago, but I can't remember...lol. I tend not to do a whole lot of rereading fics, unless I'm really in the mood for them. I do reread a lot of my own stuff, but that's because I wrote it to fulfill a specific need or mood, so it's like...specifically catered to what I want.

50. How long is your longest fic?

That would be United; a Hogwarts au for BNHA. It currently holds my record for a single fic at 113 267 words and 33 chapters. I have 6 more chapters to go. But, I'm really struggling with this one, I'll be honest. I have such a hard time getting into it and writing again for two reasons: 1. some rather toxic people in the BNHA online fandom made me (for a short time) hate my OTP in the series because it was their OTP too (and even now I have a hard time after too much exposure, so I have completely slowed down on my BNHA writing), and 2. JKR is a terf and anti-semitic and racist and, even though I'm not writing for Harry Potter, I feel slimy and gross just using the Harry Potter world as a backdrop for the story. It's really really killed my drive for that fic specifically. I've considered deleting it at least a hundred times.

[speed-seo]

10 Creative Ways to Improve Your Content's Tone and Voice:

In any form of communication, tone and voice are crucial for truly connecting with an audience. The manner in which we express ourselves plays a large role in whether our message is understood and can create impact. Research shows that readers are more likely to engage with content that has an authentic, human voice (Science Direct). But developing a natural, likable tone can be challenging for writers. Follow these 10 tips to refine your writing voice and create content your audience will enjoy. When it comes to online content like blogging, tone and voice become even more important for keeping readers engaged. Yet striking the right tone does not always come naturally to all writers. Over the following sections, we will explore ten creative ways to refine your content's tone and voice. From practicing aloud to drawing inspiration from others, each tip offers a path for nourishment. The goal is not just to perfect some writing rules but to foster understanding and bring more light through our words. By contemplating tone and voice with an open and thoughtful mind, we have an opportunity to lift each other to higher ground. #1 - Read Your Writing Aloud Hearing your words spoken makes their tone more apparent. As you read aloud, pay attention to the cadence and flow. Ask yourself: - Does this sound like my natural speaking voice and personality? - Are there awkward phrases that are hard to say smoothly? - Do I stumble over any confusing syntax? - Does the tone fit the intended audience and context? Make revisions to match the way you speak. Strive for a pleasant, conversational style. #2 - Use Metaphors and Comparisons Metaphors make writing more vibrant by comparing an unfamiliar concept to something readers know well (provide example). Used skillfully, figurative language enables you to express concepts in a fresh, meaningful way. When seeking an original metaphor, look for unexpected parallels to everyday concretes images (give examples). Just take care that metaphors directly relate to your message. #3 - Vary Your Sentence Structure Too many sentences of the same length becomes monotonous to read. Short sentences quicken the pace, while longer ones slow it down. Sentence fragments and single dramatic words also highlight key ideas. Try breaking up long, heavy sentences into two simpler constructs. Or expand terse statements for moreexplanation. Play with cadence by sometimes starting sentences with dependent clauses. #4 - Choose Words Carefully The words you use shape the reader's emotional response. Consider: - Are there any unnecessarily complex terms you can replace with simpler synonyms? - Do certain words have associations (positive or negative) for your target audience? - Could you select more energetic verbs rather than passive or generic ones? Evaluate each word choice. Remember, clear and concise writing is most engaging. #5 - Draw From Inspiring Examples Notice how writers you admire effectively develop an appealing voice. You can emulate certain stylistic elements like: - Using natural, conversational language - Opening with a compelling hook - Sharing personal anecdotes or humor - Employing rhetorical questions Of course, imitate sparingly and adapt to suit your purposes. The goal is developing your own voice, not copying another. #6 - Align Tone With Your Goals Consider what emotional experience you want readers to have. Your tone should align with that intention. Ask yourself: - Is my tone consistent with the brand or values I want to convey? - Am I striking the right balance of warmth versus professionalism? - Does my tone encourage the response I desire from readers (i.e. share, trust, comment, purchase)? Keep these goals in mind as you refine word choice and style. #7 - Listen to Your Inner Voice Tune into your instincts and values. Write from an authentic place to resonate with readers. But also be willing to edit out content that does not truly represent you. Finding your best voice takes experimentation. #8 - Invite Diverse Perspectives Get feedback from a range of readers on your tone and writing style. Ask: - Does my voice seem natural and engaging to you? Why or why not? - Are there areas where my tone could be misinterpreted? - What emotions or reactions does my writing elicit? Listen carefully for areas of disconnect and adjustment. #9 - Know Your Readers' Journeys The best tone connects with your particular readers. Consider demographics like age, culture, and prior knowledge. But also remember individuals have varying preferences. Survey your audience to gain insights about how they want to receive information from you. Let their needs inform your voice while retaining your authenticity. #10 - Refine with Feedback Refine awkward phrasing through repeated passes of editing. Read each draft aloud. Let the text rest before revisiting it with fresh eyes. Polish writing takes dedication. But developing your signature voice is worth the effort. Importance of Tone and Voice in Content Writing We've all been there - scrolling endlessly, overwhelmed by an endless sea of information. Amidst the noise, tone and voice give readers a lifeline, a human connection in an unpersonal world. Beyond mechanics, they paint the authentic story between the lines. Benefits of Effective Tone and Voice My client Maria's Tone Establishes Her BrandBy infusing her cooking blog with local charm, Maria attracted loyal patrons keen to feel part of her community. Her warmth strengthened dining room and bottom line. Jeremy's Voice Builds TrustBy openly sharing challenges and triumphs, Jeremy let customers root for - and with - him. This honesty fostered rapport that kept them coming back for more. Jane's Flexibility Boosts EngagementSwitching effortlessly between playful tweets and heartfelt tributes, Jane maintained consistently high fan investment. Her agility kept interest piqued across contexts. Trends in Tone and Voice Authentic Voices Stand OutIn an over-shared world, people hunger for unfiltered humanity. Brands that offer realness through vulnerability and humor forge genuine relationships. Empathy Opens DoorsBy meeting audiences where they stand - emotionally and practically - businesses address real human needs, and in turn open hearts. Ultimately, it's through sharing life's joys and trials that connections elevate from transitory to lasting. By embracing our shared experiences with wisdom, care and yes, humor, we walk alongside one another. Conclusion With practice and dedication, you can craft content that effectively conveys ideas while engaging readers on a personal level. Finding Your Authentic Voice: 🗝️ Takeaways - Read your writing aloud to refine awkward phrasing and improve flow. - Use figurative language like metaphors judiciously to add color and clarity. - Vary sentence structure and length to keep interest. - Choose words carefully to shape the desired emotional response. - Emulate stylistic techniques from writers you admire, but develop your own voice. - Ensure your tone aligns with your brand identity and goals. - Listen to feedback from diverse perspectives to identify possible misinterpretation. - Understand your target audience’s needs, perspectives, and preferences. - Revise extensively to hone your signature voice. Putting these tips into practice takes time and dedication. But a refined, authentic voice resonates with readers and boosts content performance. For more guidance on improving your writing tone and voice, check out these additional resources: - Article Writing Tips For Professionals - Content Writing Solutions Tailored To Your Needs - 20 Tips For A Successful Content Marketing Team We hope these techniques give you a solid foundation for finding your natural voice and connecting with readers. What tips do you find most helpful? Share your thoughts in the comments below! The journey to finding your writer's voice is a process of discovery. What is your best tip for projecting an authentic, likable tone? Read the full article

[twothirdsgenius]

I don’t want to wade into the “adhd diagnosis from afar discourse” BUT please tell me more about how your self-expression changed before and after treatment.

Oh yeah it’s showtime 😎 Also hey! As a fun little experiment, I’m going to set a reminder to myself going to respond to this tomorrow when I’m on my meds, because mine wore off about two hours ago and so I might not make sense ☠️ I will also avoid talking about dan in this area but like I have a lot of things to say about that if anyone wants to slide into my dms 👀

First thing worth mentioning is that there’s actually three official forms of ADHD, and I have combined type (both inattentive and hyperactive). I’ve been on meds for three years, and I’m 23 so I got a diagnosis much earlier than many who are also afab. I also had a lot of traumatic experiences in school at the hands of teachers who frequently humiliated me in front of my classmates whenever I would say something odd, and so I tried to just stop talking altogether but my impulsivity never let me stop and so it was just this never ending story. These experiences definitely had an impact on how I expressed myself before meds. I had a really hard time formulating thoughts and then having those thoughts leave my mouth the way I intended them to. I would often get really snappy and lash out at people and I would get super impatient with people because they were taking too long to finish what they were saying and so I would just finish their sentences for them and I was usually exactly on the money? Because my brain was So Fast but it was too fast for me to finish a thought or finish a sentence and so I would just sound like a rude fucking nutcase. I would just ramble, it was like the verbal form of trying to play darts with your eyes closed. Sometimes I would just trail off mid-sentence (still do when my meds aren’t active) because Brain.exe would just crash for no reason!!

Before meds, trying to express myself was like there was a bunch of cogs in my brain that would otherwise be perfectly functional, but there was one single cog that was jammed and couldn’t move and so all of the other cogs were stuck too. And so during conversations I would try and contribute but there was a stuck cog that fucked everything up and so whatever came out of my mouth was what it was.

I think this is why I got so into writing as a kid. I felt stupid whenever I would talk out loud but when I wrote it was like physical proof that I wasn’t an idiot. People used to call me the r word a lot, although tbf that was just as much about my dyscalculia as it was about my ADHD (both are comorbidities, fun fact)

The first time I took my starter dosage of adderall, I actually broke down into tears because it was the first time I had ever felt calm. The cobwebs got cleared and that one damned cog got unstuck and I started talking again. Really talking, not stumbling through my words. It took me a long time to realize this but the real me is the person I am when my brain is working properly with the aid of my meds. I’m much more patient, I’m much quicker to forgive people and less likely to get angry even if someone were to directly provoke me and I’m much more talkative when I’m on my meds. I’m more likely to strike up conversations with strangers (I live in the midwest and this skill has become very useful because people will just talk to you??) and I have an easier time talking to my friends.

I also have an easier time talking to myself. I’m much more patient with myself. I’m much more forgiving towards myself. And this has a lot to do with both the therapy I’ve done and!! because my meds help so much with my impulse control!!

I’m so sorry I wrote like the fucking Iliad in response but I’m always down to talk about this so thank you very much I appreciate this ask more than you know