#like i want to talk to every single one of them

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[rebelssvy]

hot and cold

*ೃ༄

bakugo x reader ༊*·˚

summary: this is headcannons on how he fucks you. he wakes you up to fuck bakugo lovin on you sex and him pounding you sex, DUALITY. smut just pure smut.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

hot

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

his love could be so passionate. him coming home from a mission and finiding himself wrapped around you. his arms embracing you with care, trying not to squeeze you to hard.

after hugging you he would mumble to you about how much he missed you. before kissing you softly on your lips. you would giggle when he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared room.

throwing you onto your bed you laughed when he fell on top of you. he kissed at your skin. nipping at the sensitive parts.

his body grew hot at the sound of your moans. quiet enough just for him to hear. bakugo took pride in pleasing you. sometimes he would forget all about his want, and focus on you entirely.

kissing your lips before he crawled above you. taking of your clothes while kissing different parts of your body. the room was filled with your laughs, shouting at him to hurry up. it wasn’t long before you forced him onto his back, practically tackling him.

stripping him of his clothing while giggling. he looked at you with such admiration. you were his girl.

your sex was soft on days like this. taking his cock from his hand and giving it a couple pumps. before you pushed him into you. you gasped at his girth.

still on top of him you grinded into him. fucking yourself with his cock. his hands graved at your body, never staying in one place too long.

eventually his back moved to now rest against your head board, a perfect place for him to take your nipples into his mouth. sucking at your tits.

you moaned out his name, coming close to your finish.

he knew you too well.

instantly his hand found your clit. rubbing circles into the nerves. he noticed how your body lunged forward, smirking at you.

you shook with your orgasm. riding it out on top of him. fucking his cock into you with a dragged out pace.

as soon as you finished cumming around him, he hopped off your bed and started a bath. after he picked you up and took a bath with you.

skin to skin.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

cold

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

waking you up from your sleep, you found your boyfriend deranged. the smell of charcoal and smoke filling your senses.

you two had talked about this before, how you would rather be shaken awake to please eachother then them get off without you.

so here you were, getting pounded from behind after getting woke up to his fingers inside you. you could tell something upset him from the way he hasn’t said a word to you yet. his groans and growls were enough for you to understand.

his cock plunging its way in and out of you. wet noises filled the room, sounds of his balls smacking your clit.

he forced your back into a breath-taking arch. the position fucking his cock deeper into you. you felt him in your stomach.

every time you moaned his name his hips faltered, hesitant with his weight. not ever does he stop fucking you.

glancing over to your ripped clothes. heat pooled inside you. you knew he would buy you a new set later so you really didn’t mind. it was just so hot that he was so desperate to be inside you.

your pussy clenched around him at the thought. you listened to his air get sucked out of him. gasping behind you. his hand grabbed at the fat of you ass, before smacking your butt. leaving red marks on your skin.

the attention you needed to cum around him. he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, slapping your ass. he said his first words to you, “you fucking like that, baby? you like when i fuck you like my slut..?” he spat out.

your brain went fuzzy. pulling his cock into you further. you couldn’t think up a single thought. moaning at his words you spasmed more.

it wasn’t long till he came inside you, fucking his cum into you. leaving him utterly exhausted.

you two fell asleep cock warming with his cum oozing out of you.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i was just thinking about cannon and fanon baku and came up with this ᵔᴗᵔ

[ahqkas]

♯ I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO MY DAD . . . for teaching me everything he knows ( dick grayson & jason todd as dads ! )

— fem!reader as mom, fluff, not edited, based on this req.!!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

dick was always great with kids; his natural warmth, patience, and humor made him a magnet for them, even before he became a father. he often thought back to his days as robin, remembering how bruce wayne took him in and gave him stability, and he wanted to offer that same feeling ( and definitely more ) to his children.

when you two first talked about having kids, he was equal parts excited and nervous about it. dick worried about balancing family life with his vigilante responsibilities, but he couldn’t wait to start a family with you. he knew that no matter what, you’d face it together

your first child, a boy, inherits your husband’s bright energy and natural charisma. from the moment your son was born, dick was a hands-on dad. midnight feedings? no problem. diaper changes? a breeze ( well, almost ). he approached fatherhood the same way he approached everything else—with passion and a healthy dose of humor

he’s not just the dad who builds the coolest blanket forts or makes pancakes shaped like bats; he’s the dad who listens, encourages, and shows up, no matter how tired he might be after a long night of patrol. even when exhaustion clings to him like a second skin, his kids come first. if his son wants to show him the new drawing he made, dick will sit down and marvel at it as if it belongs in a gallery. if his daughter has a nightmare, he’s at her bedside in seconds, stroking her hair and whispering how she’s okay and nothing’s gonna hurt her while he’s here until she drifts back to sleep

he’s the dad who remembers every detail about his kids’ lives—their favorite bedtime stories, their least favorite vegetables, the songs that make them smile—and makes sure they feel seen and heard every single day. when he’s with them, he’s fully present, setting aside his worries about blüdhaven or the weight of his world. to them, he’s not nightwing; he’s just dad, their safe place, the person they know will always be there no matter what

he teaches your son how to ride a bike, holding the seat steady as those wobbly first attempts make an appearance. “you’ve got this!” dick encourages his son, jogging beside him. when the first scrape happens—knees meeting pavement in a blur of surprise and pain—he’s there in an instant, crouching down with the kind of gentle urgency only a dad can master

his strong arms wrap around his son in a hug that says, i’ve got you, even as tears well up in the young eyes. he’s quick with jokes to soothe the sting, brushing dirt and pebbles off tiny palms. “hey, you know what? you’re officially a biker now. all the pros have scars to prove it.”

it doesn’t matter if he’s running on just a few hours of sleep or if his legs are sore from the night before. he’ll stay on that sidewalk all afternoon if it means helping his son find the courage to get back on the bike

when your daughter is born, it’s as if a new light ignites in dick’s heart, one that’s softer and warmer than anything he’s ever felt before. from the moment he holds her—tiny, delicate, and swaddled in pastel pink—he’s utterly smitten by the baby. his breath catches in his throat as her little fingers curl instinctively around one of his. it’s the smallest thing, but to him, it’s everything. he gazes at her with an awe that rivals the first time he stood under a gotham sunrise after a long patrol as robin

every little thing she does—every yawn, every sleepy coo, even the way she scrunches her nose—melts him completely. he’s the first to volunteer for late-night feedings, cradling her against his chest while whispering soft lullabies. “it’s okay, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, as if the sound of it alone could shield her from the world

she’s the spitting image of you, but she’s got dick’s sense of curiosity and mischief. as she grows, it’s clear she’s a daddy’s girl through and through. dick spoils her with affection, often carrying her on his shoulders or letting her “style” his hair, even if it means showing up to patrol with hair ties

she’s the one who always convinces him to stay for “just one more bedtime story,” and dick can never say no to those puppy eyes. he does all the voices, acting out scenes with a dramatic flair that leaves her giggling uncontrollably

family movie nights are a regular occurrence. dick lets the kids pick the movie, even if it means sitting through the same animated film for the fifth time. he doesn’t mind—he’s just happy to have everyone snuggled up together

. . . JASON TODD !

jason never thought he’d be a dad. gotham wasn’t kind to kids, and in his darker moments, he felt like it had swallowed the boy he used to be whole. he worried his own traumas—nights spent cold and hungry on the streets, the ache of betrayal, the sting of abandonment—might cast shadows over the kind of father he’d want to be. how could he teach love and trust when his world had been built on survival and second chances?

the thought of holding a child, so small and fragile, scared him more than any villain ever could. what if he didn’t have it in him to be the kind of dad they deserved? what if his sharp edges cut too deep, or worse, he failed to protect them from the city that had failed him? jason had spent so long fighting his way through life that the idea of creating a safe, warm space for someone else felt like trying to plant flowers in a wasteland. and yet, the thought of building something good—something untouchable by gotham’s darkness—stirred a longing in him he couldn’t ignore.

when you told him you were pregnant with your first child, he was stunned silent for a solid minute. then came the slight tremble in his hands as he cradled your face and whispered, “we’re really doing this?” you swore you saw tears in his eyes, though he’d deny it later

he threw himself into preparing for fatherhood. between patrols, you’d catch him reading baby books, jotting down notes in that same serious way he planned missions. ( “what the hell is a diaper genie, baby? is it a genie for diapers, or does it genie them away?” )

when your first daughter was born, jason held her for the first time with an awe. he whispered promises to her, things like, “you’ll never go through what i did,” and “i’m gonna give you the world, princess.”

jason’s daughters own him. his rough, serious ide of personality melts into a puddle of mush when they so much as giggle at him. one pouty face, and he’s done for

when they’re little, he becomes a human jungle gym. they’ll climb all over him, pull on his hair, and stick stickers all over his face while he sits patiently, letting them “decorate” him. ( “you’re turning me into a unicorn, huh? cool. just don’t let your mom take pictures—too late? figures.” )

as they grow, he keeps a close eye on everything, from their friends to the neighborhoods they walk through. he’s not overbearing but has serious dad-radar. if they so much as mention a creepy guy or a mean teacher, he’s all, “do i need to handle this? no? you sure? okay, but say the word.”

by age eight, they’ve both mastered basic self-defense, thanks to “daddy’s fun time karate sessions.” he makes it a game—lots of laughter and encouragement—but underneath it, he’s deadly serious

when they’re older, he teaches them how to change a tire, handle their own money, and, much to your exasperation, how to throw a punch. ( “jason, they don’t need to know how to disarm a grown man at ten years old!” “baby, it’s gotham. yes, they do.” )

he’s the kind of dad who makes pancake breakfasts on weekends, complete with smiley faces and way too much syrup

on father’s day, his daughters surprise him with handmade cards every year. jason’s tough demeanor cracks every time he reads their scrawled messages: “daddy, you’re my hero.”

and jason as a father to teenage girls? lord, help us all.

when his eldest goes on her first date, he plays it cool—for all of two seconds. he grills the poor kid with subtle threats hidden behind a charming smile. ( “so, you like my daughter? good. treat her right, or you’ll have a real bad night. understand?” )

you have to remind him not to tail them when they go out. “jason, they’ll know you’re following them.” “i’ll stay a block behind. they’ll never see me.”

but despite his overprotectiveness, he’s their anchor during tough times. when they experience their first heartbreaks, he is there with hugs, ice cream, and the kind of pep talks that make them laugh through their tears. “anyone who doesn’t see how amazing you are isn’t worth crying over. you’re the todd girl. we don’t settle for less.”

deep down, jason worries about failing them. he knows what it’s like to lose everything, and the thought of his girls experiencing even a fraction of that makes his stomach churn

[multipleoccupancy]

"Every night," Theo smiled back at her, knowing he had shown he was unconvinced but he was glad of the change of topic, there were more pressing worried than Violet for now. "You can look after yourself, I just don't like the idea of bait." It was all they had though and he and Sloane could make sure nothing happened to her, Violet too from her vantage point. He could see she was worried and in some way it helped, it meant she would be careful out there.

Oh yeah, the bears. Theo looked at her worriedly for a moment, is seemed like she was constantly in danger if she was here and then when she went home she had to deal with bears! Of course in his mind the situation was much worse than it actually was and he imagined her having to deal with bears on a daily occurrence. "You should use it if you have to you know. You're right it's better off with you." He agreed, at least in New York there were just the stray pets, rats and occasional parrot. "You can, you know, have it if you want?" He'd relinquish it if it meant she could be spared from the bears at home too!

"I am not sure I have a favourite," Sloane mused as they walked though he was clearly thinking hard about it. "I have used so many but I suppose the best one might have been the pilot." He concluded, inadvertently revealing that he and thus other Sloanes could get into the cockpits of planes if they deemed it necessary.

Ah! It sounded like the HR role was no walk in the park, he supposed not every cell was like theirs and well, Samantha could really put her foot down if she decided to. "It probably is," he at least admitted for it being a harder role but he was even more pleased that Killian and Samantha were in touch too and he assumed that he was much the same as them.

"Astrid," he acknowledged with a smile and a nod before gently but encouragingly patting her on the shoulder. "You'll do great, let's go." He instructed and then opened the door to the office. Beyond it there was an empty reception area and then a small plastic screen where a young man was sat typing away on a computer, pausing to look at them both as the door opened. "Good evening," Sloane greeted as he fumbled around a little as if trying to find his wallet, sounding a little more exasperated than he had just done and as if he was a frazzled single dad in a 'pickle', "Come on in to talk to the nice man, Astrid." He smiled at her encouragingly, so very much as if he was indeed her father.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Samantha could tell that her words had not really appeased Killian's worries. She knew him far too well not to notice. But she wasn't sure that anything she could say would comfort him when it came to Violet's presence here, and all it could entail for them. So, she just offered him a warm smile and dropped the subject. "Just tonight?" she teased, trying to hide her own worries behind a joke.

"That's true, I can't," she admitted patiently, "but I can hide the crossbow in the trunk of my car. My dad never uses it anyway. And if he does somehow find it, I'll tell him I bought it to fend off bears. People in my town have all sorts of guns to protect themselves against bears, a crossbow won't be too unusual." A little bit unusual, sure. But she wouldn't be grounded for it. She glanced at Killian, hoping the mention of bears would convince him.

"What's your favorite disguise?" asked Violet. She did chuckle when he mentioned how well he decorated his house for Halloween, though there was a sadness in her eyes. Her heart broke just a little bit at the thought that all of this, his house, his family, the little traditions they had... would one day go up in flames. Literally and figuratively.

Unaware that she had relieved Sloane of a great worry, she nodded at his question. "My dad says it's probably more scary than being on the field," she joked, though she didn't know just how unhinged Delta Green agents could be.

She stopped next to Sloane. "Oh- Astrid, my name is Astrid," she whispered, in case anyone could hear them on the other side of the door. The prospect of calling him "Dad" was daunting. Her mouth was suddenly very dry, she felt like she had swallowed a handful of sawdust. "Yes, I remember."

[mossangelll]

The people crave yandere jinx 🗣️🗣️🗣️

ask and you shall receive! i really wanna write more abt jinx and her self made family :’) thanks so much for requesting ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Home Sweet Home

Yandere!Jinx x Reader

tw: toxic relationship, kidnapping, emotional manipulation

yandere!jinx who’s playing hide and seek out in the lanes with isha but can’t find her

yandere!jinx who starts to panic until she sees you, chatting up a storm with a playful isha and instantly calms down

yandere!jinx who wants to be mad at the smaller girl for talking to strangers but just can’t find the anger - you’re so sweet and bubbly and not at all what she would expect from a fellow citizen of the underground

“Oh! Is she your sister? I was just looking after her until you showed up - you can’t be too careful down here.”

yandere!jinx who gets along with you like a house on fire and eventually invites you over to hang out with her and isha at the workshop more and more often

yandere!jinx whose heart clenches when she sees how happy isha is hanging out with you

yandere!jinx who yearns for a full, happy family and takes desperate measures to achieve this

yandere!jinx who lures you to the workshop for another “play date”, happy that you didn’t suspect a single thing was wrong

yandere!jinx who watches you like a hawk, passed out and tied to a chair, counting down the minutes until you finally wake up

yandere!jinx who placates a worried isha who looks at your unconscious body in fear. what she’s doing is good and necessary - they’ll be a big happy family, doesn’t she want that too?

yandere!jinx who grins the moment you wake up looking so cute and disoriented, asking jinx what happened and if the two other girls are ok

yandere!jinx who has to stifle a large smile at your display of concern - you’re the injured one but all you care about is if isha and her are ok? you’re so perfect she could scream!

yandere!jinx who pouts as she strokes your tear stained face once you realise what exactly jinx has in store for you

yandere!jinx who, despite her own heartbreak at your cries, refuses to accept your forlorn pleas to just let me go, i won’t tell anyone i swear!

yandere!jinx who brings over a distraught isha in order to blackmail you to stay - it’s not fair to create such a meaningful friendship with the her just to leave them both

yandere!jinx who undoes your restraints once she sees you give into her “persuasion” and promises that you’ll all be happy together as a family

yandere!jinx who conditions you over months to be the perfect homemaker who (almost) never complains - every morning she wakes up to the smell of your breakfast, the sound of your hushed conversation with isha floating over to where she is and she feels giddy all over again

yandere!jinx who brings you and isha cute handmade trinkets as a show of her love and appreciation

yandere!jinx who forces you to move all your belongings into her room and sleep in the same bed as her

yandere!jinx who goes to bed crying tears of joy - she never thought her dreams of a true family would be fulfilled like this despite how unloveable she feels she is

yandere!jinx who wakes up a bit earlier than you to catch you still snoring deep in sleep and considers this her favourite part of the day

yandere!jinx who wakes you up by cradling your face and calling you a sleepyhead in low whispers

yandere!jinx who bristles at any mention of your “real family” that you want to visit just one more time to reassure them that you’re ok

yandere!jinx who holds down your arms, trapping you in her grip as she coldly reminds you that your real family is here with her and isha

yandere!jinx who punishes you whenever you try to escape

yandere!jinx who peeks her head round corners to quietly watch you tutor isha, butterflies fluttering in her stomach at how nurturing and devoted you are to the young girl

yandere!jinx who would do anything and everything to protect her small family even if it meant killing any potential threats

yandere!jinx who can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without you and isha - you two finally make life worth living and she wouldn’t give you two up no matter what

[beingatoaster]

Re: how you skip a section and keep on writing: you determine enough about the skipped section's progression to know what the next point will be, and then start at that next point, without sorting out the exact details of that progression. E.g., for the aforementioned WIP, I have a written section where two characters wrap up a date they went on together and agree on the date for the next one, a scene break, a couple notes in the style of the OP about what scenes I want in the week in between, another scene break, and then I start back to writing in full narrative form about the second date.

...I was starting to describe it vaguely but hey, you will recognize the fandom, so:

As if setting that plan was a cue, Diluc starts to clean up the remains of the picnic, and Jean leans in to help him. He takes the two boxes the skewers had come in and carefully divides all the food out between them, handing one to Jean before tucking the other into his basket, and rises to offer Jean his hand. She lets him help her up. Together, comfortably discussing their tortoises, they head back to Mondstadt. *** [her evening with Barbara! maybe could lead to the 'keep Barbara from coming along' later on] [Kaeya is doing things to try and make the situation up to her, which Jean can tell he's doing and wants him to stop -- second Kaeya scene, with him taking work, moves here] *** On her next day off, Jean rises with a refreshing sense of anticipation. She picks through her civilian wardrobe for something practical for the trek down Drunkard's Gorge and wrangling tortoises. Even if it has to be practical clothing, though, it's nice to plan for this trip without automatically donning her uniform.

Now, those notes in the middle aren't clear here because I already know what tensions I'm pushing with these scenes (the main plot is Jean dating Diluc out of hanahaki-based obligation; Barbara is oblivious and happy for her, while Kaeya talked Jean into doing this but is now very guilty about it) and thus I don't need to describe them in more detail to myself. But I know what they are, I know what they're doing, and I don't need to know the exact wording of the dialogue or the exact actions taken in them right now to move on with the main-focus relationship, which is Jean and Diluc and the slow-motion train crash that is occurring between them.

And because said slow-motion train crash is the main driver of the plot, I can skip the side-character scenes for now because as long as I know what they're doing in the larger scheme of things (adding friction to the wheels such that individual cars on this train are beginning to tilt under the pressure), I can go back and fill in the exact details later. The Barbara scene needs to have her induce guilt in Jean about the lie. The Kaeya scene needs to emphasize that their relationship is under strain, leading later to Jean not being willing to trust him with a future plot development. I can write the guilt and the reluctance into later scenes knowing that in the second draft, they'll have a basis.

(I would bet every single example in OP's work is not a "I have no idea what goes here," it's a "I know that X needs to be here for Y reasons," but the note, like my notes, is just a placeholder in the text for that line/scene's actual story-function as they have it in their head.)

Also, a smaller within-scene example that works the same way:

"Thank you," Jean says again, less formally, a tightness in her throat. She hesitates there, not sure what else to say, what else she *can* say without further thinning the line she has to walk. Diluc solves the problem for her. "You'll have to handle the clean-up personally to be sure it's done right," he says, and that sounds irritable, this time, but at least his irritation isn't at her. "I'll do a final sweep for any stragglers. I expect managing other Knights' incompetence will take you the rest of the night." [some transition that DOESN'T include negging the Knights, that makes her think of the flower and/or how they're focused on the same goals] "Wait," Jean says, as he turns away.

I can figure out the exact dialogue I want to put there later--what matters is knowing what it does to move the story forward. Since I know what effect it will have, I was able to carry on with that scene and into the next one it effects without getting bogged down in the exact verbiage, which wasn't coming to mind at the moment.

So I guess the point is, you can leave blanks to fill in later as long as you know what those blanks do. Scenes/moments in a story are links in a chain, and you can always temporarily loop some baling twine in to connect lengths of a chain together until you have time to go to the store and buy a replacement, but that doesn't mean you aren't continuing the chain. I still think of myself as writing this story in order! It's just got a lot of baling twine in it right now because if I stop to go to the store while counting links, I will lose all forward momentum and won't continue on down the chain.

...Which is, to be clearer, why I'm suggesting trying this for motivation problems. The moment I hit friction when I'm writing a first draft, my motivation starts to die. On the other hand, once I have a finished first draft (by which I mean, still with these notes and unwritten bits scattered through, but with all the main scenes written and a solid ending), going back and writing those bits is not "friction" but "enrichment." Which may also prove true for you.

Or it may not! Your approach to writing is fine if it's working for you! Or if the reason it's not working for you is because something completely different is tripping you up and you need to troubleshoot from that direction. I'm just talking on and on about my approach because it's the only thing I know that works for me, and also I love navel-gazing. XD;; Hopefully you can find something that works for you!

me: yeah I'm pretty close to finishing this fic

the fic:

[genderqueerdykes]

hey anon saying "my abuser was a trans man so trans men hate trans women" I just want you to know I'm a transmasc person who was literally abused horrifically on the basis of sharing a similar pronoun and gender identity to my then-girlfriend's ex. she used the abuse of an entirely unrelated person as an excuse to insinuate I never respected her and would regularly scream at me and even invalidated my trauma over a relative dying using her own trauma.

she also, unsurprisingly, was a rampant transandrophobe, calling me horrible and transmisogynistic because I challenged her as a trans woman over saying blatantly transphobic things about trans men and transmascs (myself included).

because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering (this went beyond us fighting over my gender).

think why you feel that way, that you need sole dictation over the conversation and can't let anyone else breathe their words about experiences that may challenge how you feel, anon

if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience

but I guess trans men aren't owed that same equivalence. they are forced to live a double standard there. because you don't respect us enough for it. why is that.

"because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering,"

"if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience"

i had to highlight these bits in particulare because good god you worded this so perfectly. i am so sorry you have had this experience but you knocked the ball so far out of the park that i am genuinely in awe of how well you conveyed this, and how absolutely fucked peoples' double standards are when it comes to abuse and how people think that trans men and mascs have it "so much easier in life". you're dead on the money. NONE of this has to do with talking about oppression and looking out for one another.

this behavior is about control.

it's about controlling the narrative. some people literally get so insecure when the conversation turns away from them for even a moment, they think it means that everyone is their enemy. yes, trans women have an absolutely awful time in cisheternormative society. so do trans men.

i have been emotionally and sexually abused and harassed by 3 separate trans women. one of which struck me with an object, another who stole something out of my purse while i was asleep and continuously kept trying to get in my pants after she found out i had a vagina despite me repeatedly turning her down, and another who mocked me for my psychotic episodes and repeatedly swore up and down that i didn't have DID and just in general gaslit and emotionally abused the fuck out of me. the woman who hit me also constantly kept insinuating that penises are what make a man a man, and would not stop making me feel bad for not having a biopenis.

once everyone found out i had a vag, suddenly, i was a cishet woman in their house and i was public enemy #1. i had to deal with my cis gay male roommate shrieking about how he's gay, boobs and vaginas are disgusting, he's a MAN attracted to MEN. meanwhile, my ex girlfriend (the one who hit me) made me feel like shit for being a man without a penis almost every single day. she would guilt trip me about how she missed being with partners with biopenises and would spend all day telling me that she loved me, but then would turn around and scream and yell at me and tell me that i'm an evil asshole.

the transandrophobia i have had to deal with at the hands of other trans women has been absolutely fucking staggering. we need to stop fostering a culture where this is okay because it's genuinely getting people hurt. like you said, if a transmasc were to say "i hate trans women, they're all mean and shitty and abusive," they would literally be torn limb from fucking limb. and rightfully so, because it's a dogshit thing to say. but we HAVE to start telling people who do this to trans men to fuck OFF and stop it.

i am very sorry you went through that. i hope things improve for you, and that you're able to spend time in company that treats you with respect. nobody should have to deal with literal profiling just because of their gender.

is that what we're doing now? profiling people based off of their gender? how is that progressive? how is that liberating? how is that trans rights? it ain't.

[munsonsmixtapes]

hey is it possible for you to write rockstar eddie on a tour for two days and the reader has been touch starved and when he gets back readers really happy and they have um yk but it’s totally ok if you don’t feel comfortable doing this love you work btwww your so talented 💖💖💖

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it)

It's been months since you've seen Eddie. Since he's been on tour and you've been working, you've haven't had any time to go to one of his shows that was close by or even talk on the phone.

And not seeing him for such a long period of time has led to you being touch starved. You haven't been able to stop thinking about having his hands on you the second you reunite. He's due to be home any minute and you can't wait to see him, to feel his hands on you, to hold him in your arms.

Eddie's been counting down the minutes from the second he woke up. He's constantly been checking his watch since he knows the exact time he's supposed to be home. He just wants to be with his girl and every second that passes that he can't hold you in his arms is another minute he'll spend checking the time.

You hear the front door open and Eddie steps through it, pushing his suitcase aside as he opens his arms wide for you. You jump into them and wrap your legs around his waist as you bury your face into his neck. Eddie holds you tight, one of his hands moving up and down your back as the other holds onto you.

You pull away and stare at him, those pretty, brown eyes that you always love to look into, that hair you love to run your fingers through, to grab onto when he-

"I missed you, baby," he whispers as he leans close, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

"I missed you too," you mumble against his lips. "So much." You don't even have to tell him that but he loves to hear the words, the loving way you say them.

He kisses you again, this time slotting his lips between yours. It's slow and sweet at first but before you know it, Eddie's tongue is in your mouth and he's setting you on the counter, slotting himself between your legs.

"Need your touch. Need your cock," you tell him. "Wanna feel you."

His hands travel down your sweatpants, pushing them down your legs then tossing them somewhere behind him, followed by your panties. Once they're discarded, he removes his own, precum already leaking from his cock that he slides into you as he spreads your legs wide.

"So tight, baby," he groans as he pushes inside you, his hands digging into your hips as he does so. "Didn't take care of yourself while I was gone?" The question is genuine, not mocking like it may seem.

"I couldn't," you tell him between labored breaths as you buck your hips against his. "It just made me think of you and then I got sad."

"You missed me," he says knowingly. "But I bet you missed my cock even more." Eddie slides all of himself inside you and you moan loudly, bucking your hips again, clenching around him as you do so.

"Fuck," you whine as your back arches. "Touch me," you beg. "Please."

He pumps even harder, your moans getting even louder. His hand reaches up your shirt and cups your breast, giving it a squeeze as his lips find yours in a hot kiss, his tongue taking no time to slide into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth as his thumb moves to your nipple, massaging it. His other hand continues to dig into your hip, pulling you even closer and your legs wrap around his waist, your ankles locking at his back.

His pumps continue and you already feel spent having not done this in months. But it's the best you've felt in so long so you don't dare tell him to stop even though you're close to throwing in the towel.

"See?" He asks as he looks down at where the two of you are connected, his his other hand moving to massage your other nipple. "We've still got it. I'm gonna fuck you on every single surface of this apartment until you can't walk. And then I'm going to carry you to bed where we're going to sleep until the afternoon and them I'm gonna do it all again to show you just how much I missed you."

"Yes, please," you moan as he picks you up, his hands grabbing your ass as he carries you to the couch, setting you down on it before lying on top of you, pumping his cock in and out, in and out as you beg for more, scratching up and down his back in response to how good he's making you feel.

"Just like that," you whine, bucking your hips against his again and again, your nails digging into his back, leaving crescent shapes anywhere you can. You're close, you can feel it.

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you have the best orgasm of your life, Eddie encouraging you as you do, and once you've come down, you push him so he's the one with his back against the couch, fully intent of riding him until he has an orgasm of his own.

And Eddie fulfills his promise of fucking you on every piece of furniture in the apartment, making you come over and over and he does carry you to bed afterwards where he puts you in one of his t-shirts before pulling you to his chest where you fall asleep soundly, knowing that you have your man back in your arms.

[rainydayathogwarts]

The Chosen one - Ron Weasley

summary: harry may be the chosen one, but he wasn't the one you chose. (lowkey creep!harry) wc: 1.3k

When Ron had first noticed Harry’s lingering gaze following you whenever you appeared he only rolled his yes; you were yet another girl he would have to hear Harry constantly ranting about. He was sick of the boy's tendency to play around with girls' feelings, yet never stop talking about them. The first couple of weeks, neither you or Harry had spoken a word to each other. Harry stared, couldn’t speak to you when you were around, a blush overtaking his features. Ron, leaning his chin on his hand, tried not to make snarky remarks at his friend about his painfully obvious crush on you. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know the boy existed. However as time went on, it became glaringly evident that you weren't just another crush because Harry was silent about you and hadn't tried speaking to you as the month went by.

If Harry wanted you, he should’ve just made his move because it seemed that the chosen one got everything he ever wanted. Ron lived in Harry’s shadow, and it was getting harder to be the supportive best friend day by day, his jealousy stirring inside him like a beast ready to be unleashed. So about a month after Harry’s feelings for you began developing, when you approached the pair with your friend, offering to work as a group in Potions class, the last thing Ron expected was for you to turn your attention to him rather than his best friend.

“I think Ron should crush the griffin claws.” you started, eyes glinting with something more than friendly kindness when you turned to face him. “You’ve definitely got the muscles for it.” Ron felt his pale skin heat up with a pink flush, and he ducked his head in embarrassment, feeling Harry’s stare on the side of his neck. Ron took the compliment with a chuckle, exchanging conversation with you throughout the lesson, your friend making comments every now and then while Harry hadn’t uttered a single word, his gaze trained on you laughing with his best friend. The ginger walked out of lesson with a newfound confidence in his stride, chest puffed out with a sense of security, feelings for you immediately blossoming. “She’s absolutely amazing, isn’t she?” He’d told Harry, and only then did he notice his best friend jealously fuming next to him. Harry hummed, clutching his book bag so hard his knuckles turned white.

Ron gulped, a dilemma forming in his mind. It was obvious his best friend had feelings for you, however he had never said a word about you to him, and Ron fully understood where Harry was coming from, a crush of his own moulding. Ron could make his move on you, playing the clueless friend and pretending not to know about his best friend’s painful crush on you. He'd return the flirting, see where things went with you. Maybe it was time for Harry to know what it was like wanting things the person closest to him had.

When you'd finally asked Ron out, a hopeful smile on your face while you looked up at him, Harry had immediately left the common room to go sulk in his dorm, within the comfort of his four poster bed. Successful date after the other, Ron was proudly able to call you his girlfriend, and soon enough, you hit the three month mark. Sat on Ron's lap in the cozy window nook of his dorm, you told him about your day, and the unfortunate detention Snape give you, one hand playing with your boyfriend's fiery hair. Ron hummed along where appropriate, adding comments whenever you paused shortly, hand on your thigh, settled just under your skirt, the other resting on your hip. He listened to every word you said, but more importantly, he focused on Harry's gaze stuck on your figure from where he hid in the confines of his bed, Charms textbook uselessly open on his lap.

Where Ron had a girl, Harry had his textbook. The thought made Ron smile.

Finally finishing your story, you pressed your soft lips against Ron's, feeling his smile through the kiss. "I love you." You whispered, finally pulling away from him. Ron's eyes shot open in shock, a wide grin gracing his features "What was that?" He teased, wanting to hear the words escape your lips once more, lightly tickling your sides. You squealed, jerking away from him only to repeat, much louder this time "I love you, you dork!" Ron laughed in joy, arms wrapping around your waist whilst you threw yours over his shoulder, squeezing him closer to you to peck his lips. You readjusted yourself on his lap to straddle him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck and shutting your eyes in satisfaction when you hear him murmur to you "I love you too."

Harry’s face flushed as blood rushed to his face in a mix of anger and envy. He knew he should have told you how he felt when he realised he liked you. And now, he had to look at you melt your body against his best friend’s, yelling about your love from the roof tops. Harry watched with resentment as Ron’s hands trailed down your body, and how you continued pressing teasing kisses against his lips. He had enough. “Get a room!” He exclaimed, pulling the curtains of his four-poster bed shut.

“Sorry Harry.” He heard you mutter with embarrassment. Your and Ron’s footsteps were loud on the wooden floor as you crossed the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you made your escape. You were probably headed to your dorm. Your dorm, which would probably be empty, and leave you and Ron the freedom to do anything you wanted to. Harry shut his eyes tightly. He hadn’t meant to shoo you both out of the room, especially not you. He just didn’t want to see you and Ron together.

Harry shut his charms textbook, tossing it to the side and getting out of bed. He glanced around the room, gaze finally landing on Ron’s bed. Shit. He approached his best friend’s bed, falling to his knees once he was in front of his side table. He pulled the top drawer open, attention immediately caught by the polaroid at the top of the drawer. It seemed like a trap. Like if Harry took held the photo, the door would swing open and Ron would walk in, an accusing finger pointed at Harry whilst he yelled that he knew that Harry had a crush on you. Harry pushed the polaroid of you and Ron aside. You looked too happy together at the latest party Gryffindor Tower hosted, smiling widely as Ron pressed a kiss to your cheek. No, Harry wasn’t interested in that. What he was interested in was the fourth photo he came across.

The photo was rather… suggestive, if Harry could phrase it that way. The photo cut off just above your shoulders, focused towards your chest, barely covered in a tank top. You were clearly taking the image, because Ron’s hands were too occupied acting as a bra for you, squeezing your tits just enough to push them up slightly. Harry pocketed the image, instantly rushing to the bathroom before pulling his trousers down. He felt bad, but not guilty enough to stop himself from jerking off to the image of his best friend’s girlfriend, and especially not while you were both fucking in your dorm, barely a hundred meters away.

Hours later, when Ron and Harry returned to their dorm after dinner, Ron’s attention was immediately caught by his open drawer. The drawer that he certainly hadn’t opened today. He turned to take a glance at Harry, watching as his best friend crawled into bed without another look back. It didn’t take Ron looking through his drawer to know what had gone missing from it, nor who had taken it.

[starfieldcanvas]

'yet another dodge'? have we ever interacted before? i can't find any indication we have. why would you walk up to a complete stranger and say that unless you wanted to start a fight?

if you're so unwilling to read pro-abolition posts in good faith that you resort to misreading standard english grammar just to pretend the only possible interpretation of what i wrote is something counterfactual, there is no point in me talking to you.

like. we already agree on the one single claim i made! you could've opened with something like "while i agree that the vast majority of rapists go uncaught and unpunished under the current system, wouldn't it be better to work on increasing the number who end up behind bars rather than committing to a system in which none of them do?" and then we could've had a conversation about the plausibility of a carceral system gaining the ability to keep rapists off the streets in a useful way. or perhaps we could've talked about the damage of the carceral approach to victims relative to the assumed value of taking a very small percentage of rapists off the streets. or a whole bunch of things. abolitionists aren't a monolith! "what are you going to do with the rapists and murderers" is a fairly specific policy question, so asking that is akin to asking a USian proponent of universal healthcare "how will you handle religious hospitals/elective plastic surgery/drug shortages/experimental treatments/assisted suicide/etc?" and expecting a pat, satisfying answer every medicare-for-all supporter agrees on off the top of their head.

anyway. certainly there's lots to talk about. but if you just want to fight, don't pretend you want to talk.

[ssamlovr]

KATSEYE. — how the first kiss went (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)...

pairing. fem!r x non idol au ──wc; 1.8k (This was supposed to be posted yesterday but as soon as I finished I fell asleep sorry 🙏🏻)

୨९. NOW PLAYING; sunny days - wave to earth

SOPHIA LAFORTEZA...

Somehow, Sophia always had a way of making you nervous with just a single glance. Even when she did, you’d act annoyed, though deep down, you loved it.

That day was no exception. She always looked at you with sweet, love-filled eyes, never bothering to hide it. As your hands swung gently together during a calm night walk near your apartment, you were passionately talking about your favorite movie and its plot twist. It wasn’t that she didn’t care—she really did—but deep down, all she could focus on was your full, captivating lips moving.

You didn’t notice her silence until it became impossible to ignore.

“And the end—” Your words faltered as soon as your gaze met hers, and your heart raced. Even after all the teasing looks she’d given you before, none felt like this one. It sent a shiver down your spine.

“W-what...?” was all you managed to stammer, and for you, that was totally embarrassing. You silently thanked the universe for the darkness of the night because if Sophia realized how hot your cheeks had turned, her teasing would have been endless.

Still, at your question, Sophia paused, debating whether to lie and say she was listening or admit what was really on her mind.

She stopped walking, standing directly in front of you, and with a soft sigh, she murmured, “I’m dying to kiss you, that’s all.”

In that moment, her eyes sparkled with affection, and a wave of excitement washed over you. Because even though you’d never said it aloud, you had been impatiently waiting for this moment too.

Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you swallowed your nerves and, to your own surprise, replied, “Why don’t you, then?”

That was all Sophia needed. She tugged on your sweater, stood on her tiptoes, and closed the distance between you.

The kiss was slow, tender, and overflowing with emotion. It left Sophia blushing, and for once, the tables turned—you spent the rest of the night teasing her in revenge for all the times she had flustered you so easily.

LARA RAJ...

Lara always saw herself as a confident person—she always was. But when it came to you, she became someone completely different.

Yeah of course she made the first move, walked up to you, asked for your number with that flirty smile of hers. And, let’s be honest, from the moment you saw her, you fell head over heels. But now that she’s your girlfriend, you’ve seen a side of her you never expected.

For your first month together, you decided to spend the day at the beach. You went early, played in the ocean, laughed and teased each other like two lovestruck teenagers. The day flew by—though Lara always felt time moved too fast when she was with you.

Sitting on a blanket, your arms propped against the sand and Lara resting against your chest, watching the beautiful sunset, you felt like the happiest person in the world. Nothing could top this moment.

But even then, when Lara lifted her head and looked at you, her eyes shining with pure adoration, you were mesmerized.

From an outsider’s perspective, it could’ve been a scene straight out of a romance movie.

Lara’s eyes locked with yours for a while. She felt her heart racing, and it only got worse when, without realizing it, her gaze drifted to your lips. Throughout that first month, she’d often glanced at them when you were distracted, wondering how they’d feel against hers.

And as they say, actions speak louder than words. Your eyes mirrored the same admiration for her lips, and that was all the confirmation she needed. Her hand gently moved to your neck, and she leaned in slowly. She brushed her nose against yours before closing the distance.

In that kiss, Lara knew she didn’t need anyone else—she didn’t want anyone else but you. And you felt the same. Even though it wasn’t the first relationship for either of you, this was something entirely different—feelings neither of you had experienced before.

Without thinking, you said the words that solidified your devotion to her. Words you meant with every fiber of your being.

“I love you, Lara…”

Her throat tightened instantly as emotions overwhelmed her. It felt so good to be loved, to feel so incredibly happy.

“I love you too, Yn.”

DANIELA AVANZINI...

Dani always let things flow, even in the relationship. That’s why she thought the first kiss would happen naturally, just lean whenever she feels like it.

But it didn’t go as she imagined. From the moment she saw you, hugged you, and sat on the grass with the basket full of food, she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Unfortunately, she was far too shy to make the first move.

Still, she looked absolutely adorable, playing with her fingers, more restless than usual. With every passing second, she inched closer to you—whether it was a casual touch of hands or resting her head on your shoulder while leaning against the tree.

Luckily for her, you’ve always been the perfect example of her dream girl, and that girl knows how to read minds.

Even though you might have been enjoying the sight of your nervous, silly girlfriend figuring out how to give you the kiss she so desperately wanted, you were just as restless. You couldn’t stop thinking about kissing those lips that had captivated you from the very beginning.

As you sat in front of her, your hand resting on her cheek, your forehead gently touching hers, you quietly whispered,

“Dani, can I kiss you?”

You felt your heart pounding in your throat, while your girlfriend felt hers in the palm of her hand, ready to give it to you.

Without saying a word, she kissed you. At first, it was just a quick peck, which made you chuckle softly. But Dani swore to God that from that moment, she became addicted to your lips. That’s why she threw herself into your arms, this time giving you a long, love-filled kiss, making the rest of the world fade away.

MANON BANNERMAN...

With Manon, words were always unnecessary. She knew you as well as you knew her, and anyone could have sworn you spent most of your lives together.

That’s why the first kiss was as perfect as everything you shared.

While cooking dinner, with you doing most of the work, you just had to set the plates on the table while the oven did its job. You turned around and hugged Manon. Even though cooking was fun, especially with your girlfriend, it always left you exhausted in the end.

After a long embrace, you pulled your head from her neck and looked at her—her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, and finally, her lips. You stared at them for a few seconds before looking into her eyes. She smiled and leaned toward, kissing you.

It felt like time stood still, both of you lost in the kiss until the sound of the oven timer broke the moment, signaling that the food was ready. You pulled away with a laugh, looking at Manon, who was pouting slightly for being interrupted. You gave her a small peck on the lips, making a shy smile appear on her face as she set the plates on the table.

MEGAN SKIENDIEL...

Megan always felt shy around you. She had never felt the way you made her feel, and even the slightest touch between your hand and hers turned Megan into a mess—blushing, nervous, and even more shy than usual.

Megan is crazy about you, that much was certain. But what she was also sure of was that she had no idea how to kiss you.

The poor girl spent every day imagining different scenarios of how it might happen, but every time she saw you, she couldn’t help but turn into a bundle of nerves.

That’s why, when she sat on the couch, staring at your lips with her cheeks flushed a deep red, she knew it was the moment.

Slowly, she leaned in, searching your eyes for any sign of disapproval. All she found were eyes filled with love, sparkling and excited.

The kiss felt endless, and when she pulled away, she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wrapping her arms around you and hiding her face in your neck.

JEONG YOONCHAE...

Yoonchae and you were two completely lovestruck teenagers. From the very beginning, things were calm and peaceful, each step taken slowly, savoring every moment.

For both of you, this relationship thing was new, especially the kisses.

Now, Yoonchae can admit that during those moments, she overthought everything. Because as much as it was her first kiss, it was perfect, and with the person she loved.

Both of you lying in Yoonchae’s bed, cuddling and watching a romantic movie.

Neither of you needed to say anything when the main characters shared a sweet kiss under the stars. As the scene played out, you both locked eyes and shared your own soft kiss.

And when you looked at her, you felt even more in love with her (if that was even possible). Her eyes sparkling like never before and a smile stretching from ear to ear. You smiled back and kissed her cheek, while Yoonchae held you tighter. That night, you slept hugging each other, you resting on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

we melt this love and recreate it

as we imagine it

that's how we make sunny days.

[klarolinexluv]

Something has really stuck with me that some Anti Regulus Black person said and I want to share my thoughts on it.

Basically, they said that we, or people that like Regulus have been giving Regulus Lilys characteristics and traits and relationships instead of giving them to Lily and are using this to replace Lily.

From my pov, I can understand how that comes across. Moonwater, in canonical type universes, usually come together over their love for literature, something, that as far as I understand was how Lily and Remus used to become friends in fics.

When I think of this situation, I don’t see it as Lily being replaced, I see it as Remus having more friends then just the Marauders and Lily. I see it as Remus making friends.

In all the fics I’ve read, majority of them, Lily and Remus are always already friends! 9 times out of 10, if Remus has a POV and he is interacted with Lily or thinking about Lily, he refers to her has his best friend.

Idk who needs to hear this but Remus can have more friends than just Lily and the Marauders! In fact, EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. Can have more friends then just the friend groups that they have been assigned to from the fandom.

I personally love the idea that Regulus and Remus get close because of their shared interest in books and knowledge. In fact, I love it so much when this happens. I also love when Remus is the one to introduce (formally) Lily and Regulus. Because they have shared interests! They all have shared interests and that’s what they bond over.

If we just forget about ships for a moment - Jily/Jegulus - Regulus and Lily would and could actually be really close friends. At their cores they are very similar and have similar morals and codes.

Like my girl Lily defeated Voldemort the first time. You cannot tell me that she did not have some deep interest and understanding of Dark Magic that is really not talked about enough. I mean, she was friends with Snape for a LONG time! Even against all her Gryffindor friends and dorm mates advice and opinions. She was friends with Snape for a long time and they definitely studied dark magic together. The only reason they stopped being friends was because Snape called her a slur and began siding with people that would have gladly seen Lily and people like Lily 6 feet under.

And then Regulus! He may not have made the best choices but when it mattered the most, he chose to do the right thing and go against Voldemort. He is the first to have done so! My guy was smart. He definitely knew so much magic that he has likely forgotten more than anyone would ever even know.

Regulus and Lily are both so smart and they would have bonded over their shared intelligence, their love for knowledge and books. Remus was probably terrified the day he realised he was the reason these two evil geniuses even started talking.

Maybe instead of saying that Regulus is being given Lily’s characteristics and traits, maybe think about how this would affect the two characters when put in the same room.

I personally think that they would argue for a long time and then Lily would probably say something that gives Regulus pause and then Lily would gently press on that and then Regulus would go have a long hard think and then come back and hesitantly ask Lily questions that Lily would happily answer and then they would be tentative friends!

Regulily have so much in common but they also have a lot of differences and I don’t think enough people see that because they are too focused on ships rather than the characters themselves and their motives and actions.

I’m not shy in admitting that I fuck with romantic regulily. They are my guilty pleasure ship and I am not shy about saying that.

Regulily, platonically, romantically, it doesn’t matter. They have the biggest grounds for friendship and growth.

Regulus and Lily can teach each other so much and I honestly think it’s the biggest missed opportunity when they are pinned against each other rather than working together.

I fear I’ve gone WAY off topic.

In the context of relationships, the jily vs jegulus idea. I feel like I need to hold people hands when I say this because the two ships are very different.

WARNING! OPINIONS!

To me, Jily is a rivals to lovers relationship. I don’t think they are grumpy/sunshine purely because I don’t see Lily as the grumpy trope. I very much think that Jily are academic rivals. Where James just naturally understands everything and gets good marks whether he studied or not and Lily has to study heavily before she understands a topic enough to pass, like Lily to me has to study throughly before everything sticks and she understands the topic so much more than is really required for her coarse work.

I also don’t think Jily was James falls in love at first sight and Lily hates him for years until she gives in and goes on a date with him. Sure it’s a bit cute but i definitely prefer James developing a crush and not telling anyone other than his friends. I very much fuck with James being uncharacteristically shy about his crushes on people. I fuck with James losing his ability to talk or function around the person he fancies and it comes off as arrogance and a bit of a joke when he is actually being genuine.

I love the idea that Lily falls for him slowly, like initially, she thinks she hates him, she loathes the fact that he doesn’t need to study and he can just goof off and do whatever and still get perfect grades, I think Lily gets jealous of James and thinks she despises him because she thinks he is trying to make fun of her when all he is trying to do is talk to her and get her attention.

I love the idea that Remus is constantly trying to talk James up to Lily, “he’s really not that bad once you get to know him.” And “He’s harmless, Lils.” And things like that but Lily has NONE of it!

I think Lily starts to fall for James when they are paired together for a project that is a big mark on their finals. I think Lily goes into this thinking that she is going to hate it when actuality, James is kind and thoughtful and helps her when she struggles. He doesn’t make fun of her, he sits down quietly and gives her tips and tricks that he discovered when he studies privately, (this would be when she finds out that maybe it doesn’t all come as naturally to James as she thought) and then they end up getting the best grade in their year on the assignment but they don’t stop hanging out, they don’t stop studying together. Lily slowly falls for James because of his mind and they form a friendship and then James would ask her out one day and Lily would find herself stunned because if he had asked her a few months ago, she would have harshly declined but in the moment, she finds herself blushing and agreeing without a hint of hesitation.

And that’s how I imagine Jily.

Now, Jegulus.

Jegulus is enemies to lovers, they are grumpy/sunshine. I very much think that they did hate eachother. They did not like eachother for many reasons and they would argue and fight in the halls.

I’m very much into jegulus but I don’t think I’ve seen a fic that has written them as actually enemies to lovers in a canonical setting.

Jegulus to me is very push and pull. One step forward, two steps backwards.

I honestly think that sure, when they met at 11 and 12 when Sirius had his little brother trailing after him and introduced them to each other, they both had the moment of instant connection that they both immediately denied and dismissed and buried under hatred.

James and Regulus see each other as competition. Regulus sees James as the one that stole his brother. James sees Regulus as the brother that doesn’t deserve Sirius.

Because Sirius told James all about his little brother all through first year and James was exited to meet him for a long time until they met and instantly realised that Regulus is a two faced snake and doesn’t deserve Sirius.

Because Sirius told Regulus all about his best friend in every letter, in every stolen moment during the holidays. Regulus was exited to meet James for a long time until they met and instantly realised that James isn’t the golden ray of sunshine that Sirius claims him to be but a brother stealing asshole.

I honestly think that Jegulus is THE enemies to lovers.

I don’t think Jegulus even had a civil conversation until after Sirius ran away. And even this conversation started as an argument. I think that they only reason the argument stopped and they started genuinely talking to eachother is because Regulus’ mask broke and James saw the hidden emotions underneath that Regulus was trying to hide.

I think that James held onto prejudice for a long time. He saw all Slytherins as evil and then didn’t think about that for years until he sees Regulus crack and then James has to rethink everything he has ever thought.

That’s how I think Jegulus starts and I don’t think they ever really talk about what they are or what they are doing for a very long time, to the point (if we are talking in a canonical sense) that they break and fall apart. To the point where they end up on different sides of a war.

ANYWAY! (this is really long and if you've read this far, just know that you are my favourite person in the entire world and I adore you to the ends of the universe).

Regulus and Lily, though they share many characteristics and traits and fundamentally different people. Even in the context of the people they are shipped with, even in the context of their friendships.

I love them both so much and I think saying that Lily is being replaced by Regulus is incredibly wrong and also perhaps a little misogynistic.

They are both incredible characters, who should not be defined by their relationships.

Like I said before. In the context of war, both Lily and Regulus were the first. Regulus may have failed to complete his mission and Lily may have succeeded in killing Voldemort… but at the end of the day both of them did not do anything in the long run. Voldemort was still able to return, the horcruxes still need to be destroyed and Harry still had to finish what the people before him started, Harry still had to fight a war he had no part in starting.

[nonbinarymlm]

I’ve struggled with replying to this, because in theory I agree with you on many things in this reply, but it also sets my teeth on edge. I’ve been thinking about it and it’s not that you’re wrong exactly, it’s that the way you’re engaging with this conversation sucks.

You took a post from a man criticizing Radfems and said it “sets off alarm bells in my head of people reframing every sexism related issue and treating it as something that primarily/solely harms women to appease people who are vehemently opposed to anyone caring about men being treated like shit.” The fact that you saw a single post that was focused (not positively) on women and a term you seem to be unfamiliar with and decided it was about appeasing people who want to be cruel to men is a you problem.

I didn’t come up with the term “benevolent sexism”, it’s been a term for research on sexism since the 90s. It’s part of a much more complex theory around sexism about gender roles and sexist stereotypes that may ON THE SURFACE be positive called “Ambivalent Sexism”. The reality of these beliefs is that they have resulted in financial, physical, medical, and political oppression of when for centuries. It’s okay to have conversations focused on women about that.

Not to mention that you saw all of one conversation and then decided it was wrong for that conversation to be with women. I agree that the negative attitudes of sexism toward men deserves more discussion, but a single tumblr post focused on women does not harm men in any way. You are not, in fact, required to dismiss or derail conversations about women in order to have conversations around men. It’s detrimental, in fact, because this kind of bad faith engagement makes complex discussions around gender more difficult.

If you cannot handle a single post focusing on women (by being critical of them! this is clearly not a radfem post) without implying that it’s wrong for the post to focus on women, then you are not helping these discussions.

ESPECIALLY because I literally run an mlm blog that talks frequently about men. It’s literally in my URL. You could have taken two seconds to search “men” on my blog to see I frequently reblog and make posts about the issues men face. Imagine saying stuff about complex sexist stereotypes on a post about women? Like? Are you seriously implying it’s bad that I made a single post about women?

If this were the only type of post I made about sexism, then sure. But like I said

I Post

About

Men

(And related issues)

All

The

Time

(And I have made more posts about this and these are only posts I made myself, but reblogged ones!)

I made one (1) post focused on women and I get accused of trying to erase the struggles of men, center conversations about sexism only on women, and acting like I am trying to frame my discussions as appealing to radfems. Do you see why this might rub me the wrong way?

So if you can’t see one single post from me about women without assuming I only center conversations about sexism on women then that is a problem with how you are engaging with conversations about sexism.

We should have more conversations about the ways men are affected by sexism, but these conversations need to had in good faith. Your addition was not in good faith, and what’s most frustrating is that you KNOW your addition was not in good faith. You said “more charitably” because you know the earlier part of your post was not, in fact, a charitable interpretation of this post at all. You also just posted that interpretation without bothering to double check it at all. :/

I understand having a knee jerk reaction to and assumptions about a post. But if you want to have actual, meaningful conversations about men and sexism? Then you are going to have to learn to put your knee jerk “alarm bells” away to actually take others in good faith.

TL;DR seeing a single post about women and reacting that the person who made it always focuses their conversations on women despite having “mlm” in their URL is just so bad faith that it’s the kind of take that makes discussions sound sexism harder to have in general. We do need more discussion of men, and I contribute to that, so engaging with my efforts on that would have been more productive and helpful then criticizing a post about women for being about women.

We need to bring back the term “benevolent sexism” into widespread use for real. It’s a major mechanism in how bioessentialist Girlboss Radfems can be turned into bioessentialist conservative Tradwives.

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴏꜱɪᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀ���ᴀᴅᴇʀ

I Appreciate You.

Short summary: After some persuasion, Tom joins you for Christmas dinner. Only then he finds out your parents haven’t exactly treated you well and seizes the opportunity to show you what it means to be truly appreciated.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff (for now…)

A/N: I have entered a bad case of writing block halfway through this, so I cut it short. I AM SORRY. I’ll take a day or two off and write a pt 2☹️

wordcount: 1,6k

Tom and you have been friends for a while – or rather study accomplices, as he would call it. Though lately, you have grown closer. Oddly close, at least if you knew Riddle, who wasn’t one to interact with others unless it served a purpose. You have known that from the beginning, so it never really appeared to you why he would be different towards you exactly – but you weren’t going to complain about someone tutoring you after all – someone who was equally as smart as pretty.

“You forgot pearl dust.” he sighs in disappointment, not looking up as he fidgets with his quill. “Tom it’s been two hours, my head is a mess. Let’s take a break?”

His gaze flicks from his quill to your eyes and stares at you briefly before speaking up. “I don’t take breaks. If you want me to keep being generous enough to help you, you do it my way.”

That’s how it goes every single time. You don’t argue against it – you just do what he says. The desperation to become better at Potions is greater than your ego after all and you have also come to notice it is better not to talk back to him. The last time you did, he wouldn’t even speak to you for two weeks after.

Tom clears his throat and you return your focus to the present. “It’s been an unnecessarily long time since you have started staring at me. Focus on your textbook.”

“Right, right! Sorry.” Your cheeks heat up and you repeat the brewing process from the beginning.

After what feels like an eternity, he is satisfied – as much as he could be. Tom obviously is never fully satisfied, always has something to criticize that you didn’t do right, something he says you would need to work on the next time you two meet to study.

There was always going to be a next time.

As you two pack up, you see house elves working on the Christmas decorations just outside the library, putting up a pine tree and some red and golden ornaments. It’s the Thursday before winter break, and you would soon go home to spend the time with your family. They have told you to bring a friend, though all of them have declined so far. You would just go alone. Until – well, you think about Tom.

“Uh, I actually have one more question.” You start, turning to face him. He raises his eyebrows expectantly signalling you to continue. “Soooo, I have been wanting to ask you whether you wanted to join me for Christmas dinner at home. My parents have asked me to bring someone along.”

“We aren’t friends. Besides that, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

That’s exactly the answer you assumed he’d give, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. Your family has been talking about him often lately, about the Gaunt family, purebloods just like you. All the things they say you don’t understand anyway. It’s been like that since you were born, they always favoured your older brother over you. You have stopped arguing against it.

“Come on, Tom! It’s just a dinner, one evening. I know you don’t usually leave Hogwarts for Christmas break, I just wanted to give you the opportunity to meet my parents. They have been talking about you.”

He contemplates for a moment then. He is aware that his family, at least his mother’s side, has caught people’s attention. Apparently also the Rosiers’. Rosier family, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It would only be to his benefit to get to know them personally. And he hated admitting it, but lately - he has found himself strangely intrigued by you. A smart girl, who wouldn’t normally need his tutoring, not if he didn’t tell you to come back every week for another lesson.

“I suppose I will think about it. If I decide for it, I will join you at the train station.”

Your lips curl into a bright smile. “Thank you, Tommy! You are the best.”

He sighs. “How often have I told you to stop calling me that?”

“Sorry, sorry! I am just super excited to introduce you. They have been pestering me with questions about your mother’s family.”

You swear you see a slight spark in his eyes at the mention of his mother, though his usual stern expression returns just a second later. “Have a good evening.” he replies and leaves you behind at the library without saying another word.

-

There has not been a single sign of Tom when you board the train. Secretly you have hoped he would come and join you, though as soon as you leave the station you find yourself at peace with the fact you’d be going home alone for the break. The scenery shifts as you look out of the window, a thick layer of snow covering the otherwise green Scottish Highlands. You see deer scavenging for any grass they can find, scraping at the frozen ground with their hooves, the nearby hares’ white winter fur blending in perfectly with the scenery.

There aren’t too many students in your wagon, meaning you get to have a compartment all for yourself. Just like normally, your eyes grow tired, voices around you turning into a blur, and you fall asleep.

It wasn’t long until someone clearing their throat, taking a seat next to you woke you again. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asks, and you turn to face him.

Your face lights up at the sight of the person in front of you. “Tom! I am so happy you decided to come along!”

“I suppose it’s a welcome opportunity to connect with another renowned family.” he replies, and you nod, though slightly disappointed. “Of course.”

The rest of the journey, both of you don’t speak much. It’s a weird energy between you, something you don’t quite recognize. You are glad – as glad as you could be, knowing your family awaits you just outside – when the train arrives at your station. Both of you get off, and your mother’s and father’s faces light up at the sight of, not you, but Tom. They greet him first, ask him how the journey has been.

It’s only when you arrive at home that they ask you to help prepare dinner while Tom’s being shown around the manor. Even at dinner they won’t let him be and you wonder whether it was a good decision to bring him home with you.

In a moment of silence, your mother first looks at you, then at him. A smile forms on her face, something you only rarely get to see and you wonder what may be behind it.

“We are so glad you have decided to join us. Our daughter really couldn’t have chosen a better boyfriend.”

Oh.

You feel your heart drop in your chest at her words. They must have misunderstood the situation. Your cheeks heat up and you see Tom’s face changing into one of confusion.

Trying to save the evening, you quickly try to explain. “No it’s- we are not-“

“I am pleased to hear I am meeting your expectations.”

Tom’s words cut you off, and for a moment you aren’t sure whether you have heard him correctly. You blink a few times and shoot him a confused look, and he smiles at you.

Smiles.

You nod quickly, lowering your gaze onto the plate in front of you as you feel your cheeks heat up. For the rest of the evening, you don’t say much, even when you all gather around the Christmas tree. They ask questions about your relationship, which only Tom answers. He sits next to you and as the night progresses, his hand wanders up your lower back, snaking around your waist. You visibly shiver at his touch but decide to play along.

As soon as everyone has excused themselves to bed, you move away a little, escaping his grip. “Tom, I am sorry, they must have completely misunderstood.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“No really I-“

“Sshhh.” he whispers, his face inching closer to yours then, capturing you in a tender kiss. His hand rests on the back of your head, softly pressing you against him. You inhale deeply as you break apart, your eyes trailing up from his lips to his eyes. It’s only the candles on the Christmas tree that shine a dim light on both of your forms, yet you are able to make out the changed look on his face.

“We shouldn’t.” you murmur, shaking your head.

“I see the way you look at me in the library. And you perfectly know why I want to keep meeting you. Yet both of us are too stubborn to admit it.”

Though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“I just didn’t think you would like someone like me.”

Tom huffs. “You never acknowledge your worth, and I suspect that is what your parents have taught you. They don’t see your potential. They diminish your achievements. Why do you let them?” he asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I have stopped caring a long while ago. You know how it is.”

Tom doesn’t reply after that, though his hand continues running up and down your back soothingly. You stay like this for a while, until he slowly turns his head, facing you.

“I will show them what it means to appreciate you.”

His voice is low and controlled as his face is a mere inch away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“I will show you what it means to be appreciated.”

[the-guppy-fish]

HC - Simon "Ghost" Riley

Types of relationships - Friends

...I have some thoughts...about our boy Simon...there are not many...but more will come...

(definitely have to make a part two🤭)

No warnings, yet. (Slightly proofread)

Simons eyes are always on you. No matter where in the room you are, his eyes always find their way to you. Both consciously and unconsciously. He just likes knowing where you are.

He has made it a habit to rest his hand on your shoulder whenever he stands behind you. (He just likes touching you..and not in a weird way)

Purposefully steals you hairties and hides them in his pockets. Whenever you leave something (jackets, shoes, ...your phone) within his reach, he loves to just hide it from you. Nothing vile. He just loves to see the confusion on your face when you mutter:"Where the f..Simon! Give back my xx"

Somehow, he knows when you get hungry. If you're ever out together, whether that be on an OP or just out with friends, it doesn't matter. Right before your mood turns snappy and you can't concentrate, he hands you some sort of snack.

He has the lamest, most dry fucking jokes ever. But you find them hilarious. Each and every single one of them. Because he has become a master at delivering those jokes.

- while walking in a desert somewhere on an op.

- Simon picks something up off the ground.

"Here, take this."

- he hands you something small. Dropping it into your gloved hand.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

- while walking away he answers lowly.

"It's for rock music."

- you look down at a thumbnail-sized, triangular and flat rock.

🙄

"Eat." Was all he would tell you.

Tries to shepherd you if you're in crowded places. But you got a will of your own and a gene for getting distracted, so it's quite the struggle for him sometimes. He'd place a gentle hand between your shoulderblades, guiding you to wherever you need to go.

"Stay close, love."

He texts you out of the blue. And it's usually something weird. Something he's spent a good amount of time pondering over....or no time at all. Sometimes, it's something silly, and others he's thought about something deep and very emotional.

'Do you think I should get a pet for when i retire?'

'How about a dog?'

'No'

'Maybe a turtle'

'I want a turtle'

'Would you help me pick one?'

'Do you ever think about what would happen if I didn't come home from an op?'

'Shit. Sorry'

'I did it again :'( '

'Sorry love'

'You busy?'

'Oi'

'Answer me'

'Please'

'I just need your opinion on something'

Si👻 sent a picture

'Don't laugh. Just tell me if you like the sweater or not'

Simon is definitely someone who texts sporadically.

And speaking of texting. He loves to send you random pictures of animals he finds. No explanation. He just wants you to see the cute cat/dog/squirrel he encountered on a walk around town.

Simon is the kind of friend who you just click with. You don't have to talk much. You just get one another. But still. You yap his ears off every time you spend time together. And he just listens. Oh, Simon loves to hear you yap. He knows it brings some quietness to your, sometimes, racing brain. And he knows. The day he needs to talk, you'll be all ears.

Whenever he leaves for an op (without you), you use your chat, more or less, like a diary. You know he has no access to any kind of network what so ever, while he's away. So, all the messages you send... will only be read once he comes back to base. And even though it's not much, and usually only silly and funny things you send him, he loves every bit of it.

(Even when you use your chat to keep grocery lists in)

When things get rough. Because they will. Life sucks sometimes. You're there for one another. You have an ongoing list of times where you helped each other out because no one else could. (And you wanted no one else to help you)

The time you had the nastiest cold. Like snot everywhere. Coughing your lungs up. Fever. Headaches. Everything. He took some days off from work to help you feel better. He stocked your fridge with vegetable soup and made you like a hundred cuppas until you finally felt like yourself again. All while laughing at you whenever you sneezed without a tissue because you just couldn't keep the snot in.

The time Simons apartment flooded because his upstairs neighbour had busted a pipe, and water began running down Simons walls. In no time, you had helped him collect the few possessions he had at home and brought them to your place. For a few weeks, he occupied your couch while his apartment got fixed.

One time, your bank card had been stolen, and all your accounts were frozen until the card had been deactivated. With no real money to your name at that moment, Simon had lent you at least a month's worth of rent, utilities, and groceries until your bank had settled everything.

Simon once went out to drink with the task force. He had somehow convinced them that he was sober enough to walk home by himself. (He was not.) On the way home, he had managed to trip over his large feet and stumble down the pavement and almost face plant on the empty road. In his drunken state, he had managed to call you and ask for help. Even though it was late, you had gone out for him. Helped him home and into his bathroom. You had helped him clean the scrapes and cuts on his hands, knees, and chin. Brushed his teeth and made him drink some water before you sent him to bed. The next morning, you woke on his couch, the sound of Simons hangover reaching you from the bathroom. He sounded like he was dying. But at least he was up.

When you were working together, your friendship looked a little different. Your work relationship made it hard for him to express his care for you in the way we'd like. So he found other ways. Both of you had to dial down the banter and long yap sessions. So Ghost found discrete ways to be there for you. He made sure your canteen was always filled with water. When he was assigning guard shifts, he would usually put you two on the same shift to ensure you had at least some hours in each others company. Sometimes, he even saved the tiny piece of chocolate from the field rations you ate so he could give it to you whenever you had a shitty day.

When you're on leave, he loves to ask you to go hiking with him. Simon loves to spend time in nature, and he loves to spend time with you. So why not combine it? You spent hours together, both talking about almost everything between heaven and earth, but also in silence, just enjoying the comfort of being around one another.

Also, Simon loves to tease you. Not to be cruel or try to embarrass you. No. He just loves to see you squirm a little. (But he also loves it when you set your foot down. That fire behind your eyes when you tell him to "fucking quit it." He feels proud to see you stand up for yourself. Even if he was the cause of your irritation.)

[loonysama]

I have to agree with everything above. I'm not saying the fic that made me want to stop writing was just because only 1.75% of hits got kudos, but I'd be lying if I didn't say how much that hurt, especially for imo one of the best fics I've ever written that I was already barely able to write due to such small kudos to hits ratios lately. I get that it might not have been something everyone was into, but damn. It made me feel like shit. I'm so grateful for everyone who has supported me over the last few years - especially those who have created art for my fics and read and left kudos on everything - but I think the sting of having my writing be unliked by so many people has been really hard to get over. It shot my confidence and I've had trouble writing ever since. And over the years, I have known several writers who have stopped writing altogether because of this, and even left the fandom because of it. I do not plan to do either, but to be honest, it has been a struggle not to be able to do something I really love doing because it just made me feel so bad to do it.

I wish so much that readers didn't use kudos as a measure of how much they like something. I wish so much that it meant, "Hey, it's so cool that you worked so hard on this so I could devour more content about my favorite ship without paying for it," rather than, "This was amazing, one of the most amazing things I've ever read, so I'm going to reward you with the coveted heart of approval I only use to let the most special of writers know they're the best because they deserve it more than everyone else." This can create competition amongst writers when there really shouldn't be. And more than anything, I wish I could just turn kudos off altogether, but I can't because every single kudo I get lifts my spirits just a little, and that's a really hard feeling to walk away from, even though I suspect most of them come from "guest" bots.

It is a dark truth, and writers aren't really allowed to talk about this because we are supposed to be so grateful for every single heart, and talking about this makes us come across as entitled. We provide a free service for our readers, and I consider a kudo to be a way to acknowledge that, and it costs readers absolutely nothing! In the US, we leave money in tip jars for practically everything. Kudos are tips you don't have to pay for. And it's not like anyone's keeping track and judging readers for leaving hearts for fics that might not be the pinnacle of greatness in their opinion. That's what bookmarks are for, and they can be made private. However, people do judge fics for not having that many kudos and some will skip over fics if the kudos-to-hits ratio is too low. So instead of rewarding only the very best fics with kudos, not leaving kudos actually hurts writers. Not to mention the very personal cost of putting ourselves out there and making ourselves completely vulnerable for everyone to judge us against our fellow writers. Many writers write about very personal things, and tbh, not getting kudos can feel like it's not just our writing being rejected, but ourselves.

So if anyone wants to accuse writers of feeling entitled for being upset about not getting enough kudos, please consider how entitled readers who don't leave kudos are for reading our free labor and not clicking a freaking button (that costs them absolutely nothing) in acknowledgment of the service we happily provide, and how ungrateful they are for not appreciating what we do. We don't have to post our writing. We could just "write for ourselves," but we don't; we share what we write with our readers because that give and take relationship should be rewarding for both writers and readers. But not getting kudos does more to discourage writers from writing altogether than to encourage them to provide more content. You wouldn't pay for a fancy coffee or overpriced cocktail drink without leaving a dollar in the tip jar, would you?

So at the very least, I wish people would stop making writers feel guilty for feeling this way, and I wish writers wouldn't buy into this way of thinking rather than valuing all of our hard work and countless hours that go into writing fanfic. Our feelings are valid; we're allowed to feel like shit when our hard work and vulnerability go unacknowledged for the mere reason that it was judged against someone else's work and found wanting. Wouldn't most readers feel that way if it was the other way around?

Is leaving kudos on fanfics not common courtesy anymore?

Something I've noticed on AO3 in the last two years is the lack of kudos and comments left on fanfics.

Fanfics have an increasing number of hits, but their kudos and comments remain minimal.

I understand that leaving comments is daunting, but kudos is the easiest thing you can do to show support and appreciation for an author.

Part of me wants to blame BookTok and the commercialized consumption of books.

Readers are more demanding and impatient for content, but they're quick to move on once a book is published. It's a constant demand for 'More, more, more' without appreciating and/or supporting authors. And these readers are now getting into fanfic.

I don't want to complain because it's not productive. But if you're new and getting into fanfic: Support writers.

Support means leaving kudos on AO3, and if you're able, leaving a comment. It's simple courtesy.