#small creative writing notebook
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gaytobymeres · 2 months ago
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My essentials for a solo day out
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thewriteadviceforwriters · 24 days ago
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How to Start Writing Again When the Spark Fades
Sometimes the well of creativity runs dry, leaving you staring at a blank page with nothing but frustration. But trust that the art of writing is as much about the journey as it is about the destination. Here are some ideas to help you reconnect with your writing practice when you feel like your passion has dimmed.
Redefine Your Environment Consider taking a deliberate step outside your usual writing space. The environment in which you work can drastically affect your mindset and creative flow. Even if it’s setting up in a different corner of your home, finding refuge in a local café, or enjoying the subtle distractions of a park bench, a change in scenery often signals a mental reset. This isn’t about permanent relocation, just a simple shift can break the monotony and stir new ideas that have been hiding in plain sight.
Embrace Imperfection The pressure to produce perfect prose can be paralyzing. Give yourself permission to create something imperfect yet honest. Think of every sentence you write as a rough sketch, a necessary experiment in understanding your own voice. When you allow yourself the space to write without the weight of perfection, you invite experimentation and genuine self-expression. That freedom lies at the heart of rediscovering why you fell in love with writing in the first place.
Set Incremental Goals for Continuous Momentum When the idea of diving into a full chapter feels overwhelming, scale back to manageable, bite-sized projects that feel achievable. Instead of demanding a polished page, challenge yourself to write a paragraph or even a single sentence each day. These micro-goals build a foundation of small successes, gradually restoring confidence and momentum. Over time, these consistent efforts enrich your creative reservoir, proving that every little step is indeed a victory.
Engage Deeply in the Process of Freewriting Allow yourself to spill thoughts onto the page without judgment or expectation. Freewriting is an exercise in vulnerability and self-exploration, offering you a space to unburden tangled ideas and unexpected insights. In these unfiltered moments, you might stumble upon a germ of an idea or a rediscovered passion that rekindles your creative fire. Embracing this unstructured approach can transform an intimidating blank page into an open canvas of potential you haven't tapped back into.
Rekindle Old Inspirations There is power in revisiting the work and moments that first ignited your creative spirit. Even if it’s rereading an old journal entry, rediscovering a favorite piece of literature, or reflecting on the stories that once moved you, reconnecting with your past inspirations can shed new light on your present creative journey. This reflective practice not only reminds you of your original passion but may also reveal new directions for your current writing endeavors.
Create a Consistent, Loving Writing Routine Creating a structured yet gentle routine can help reestablish your relationship with writing. Treat your writing time as a vital appointment, a moment carved out just for you. Even if inspiration seems scarce, the simple act of sitting down, opening your notebook, and letting words flow without self-censorship can be incredibly healing. Over time, this practice transforms writing from an obligation into a ritual of self-discovery and mindfulness.
Connect with a Community That Understands Engaging with fellow writers can remind you that you’re not alone in this struggle. The shared experience of creative highs and lows can be profoundly comforting. Join writing groups, participate in online forums, or simply reach out to someone whose work inspires you. These interactions foster a sense of belonging and accountability, encouraging you to keep writing even when the path isn’t clear. In the gentle exchange of ideas and feedback, there is often a spark that reignites your dedication.
Every writer’s journey is unique, filled with ebbs and flows. If you’re feeling disconnected, know that these moments are integral to growth. Embrace each phase as an opportunity to rediscover writing on its own terms, and allow your passion to guide you back into the words you love. If you need any advice from me, never be afraid to send me an ask.
Until next time, Rin T.
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wifelivvyx · 3 months ago
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magazines - fred weasley.(fred x fem!reader)
✮ — In the burrow alone in with Fred in his room which was shared with his twin brother, you find a dirty magazine.
(handjob, teasing, smut, minors dni!)
also should i continue this story?? i dont think its that good but
You and Fred were sitting in the cluttered, mismatched room that George and Fred shared at The Burrow. The scent of old wood and faint traces of their mother's cooking filled the air. The room was cozy in a way that only a space filled with years of memories could be: posters of famous Quidditch players were pinned up haphazardly, a few stray socks lay on the floor, and a pile of half-finished experiments sat on the desk. The room felt like a reflection of Fred himself—chaotic, creative, and always just a little bit mischievous.
Fred was propped up against the headboard of his bed, tossing a small ball of parchment between his hands. You sat cross-legged at the edge, your attention fixed on the open notebook between you, filled with doodles and ideas for your wizard joke shop. The soft glow from a nearby lamp cast a warm, golden hue over the room as you both scribbled, your minds brimming with the next big prank or invention that could take the wizarding world by storm.
Though George and the rest of the Weasley family were somewhere else in the house, probably causing some sort of commotion in the kitchen or lounge room, you and Fred were content to stay in your little corner of the Burrow, brainstorming in the quiet. It was the perfect moment for brainstorming���no interruptions, just the two of you and your wild ideas.
Your hand paused mid-scribble as you glanced up at Fred, catching his eye for a split second. There was a familiar comfort in the space you shared—one that had developed over years of friendship. The dynamic had always been easy between you, starting from childhood, when you would race around the Burrow together, exploring every nook and cranny of the place. But now, there was something else, something unspoken that lingered in the air between you.
You were aware of it, and Fred—well, he seemed to be aware too. You had both noticed that your bond had changed over time, growing deeper, quieter, but still somehow more powerful. It was a silent intimacy that neither of you really spoke about, but you both felt it—especially now, sitting together like this, with the hum of the Burrow in the background, the world outside just slightly out of reach.
You sighed, obviously bored - not to mention your hand was starting to cramp from all this writing. Your eyes wandered around the room before your eyes locked onto his bedside draw. Her fingers wrapped around the draw puller. "Lets see what you have in here," She said with a grin.
"Eh, not much," Fred replied, a slight grin on his face. He knew you had always been curious about his room. "Just some potions textbooks, a few quidditch supplies, and a hidden stash of sweets. Oh, and a couple of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes prototypes that we never got around to selling."
He nudged you with his elbow playfully. "Mind you, you might have to dig a bit to find the sweets. I'm not going to make it easy for you, now, am I?"
You opened your mouth to reply, but paused when you saw something that looked.. out of place. It was some sort of magazine, hiding under loose parchment and potion textbooks. Your fingers wrap around it and pull the magazine out. "Hey, what's this?-"
Fred's eyes visibly widened and he hastily snatched it out of your hand. "Its nothing, just a boring catalog." He said, his tone rushed and slightly shaky. He quickly hid it back in its original place, letting out a loud breath that almost sounded like relief.
You eyed him suspiciously. "If its just a boring catalog, why are you hiding it?" He was now refusing to meet your eye. "It- well, you know-" He tried to stutter out, failing miserably. She tried not to snicker. "It- well- can I see it or not?" She retorted, crossing her legs as she turned to face him fully. He gave her a serious look, one you rarely see on either one of the Weasley twins. "Listen,-" As soon as he even tried to explain himself, she had swiftly snatched the book and ran to the other side of the room. You were hoping it was something that would embarrass him. She expected it to be a diary, a journal - you opened the book swiftly, only to see naked women posing in different types of positions - this was a pornography magazine.
Your cheeks flushed - you had never thought about your child best friend masturbating, you didn't even think he would be able to sneak around doing such a lewd thing without getting caught by at least one family member.
Fred had turned into a stumbling mess, unable to form words. "No, you- its not what it looks like!" Fred could feel the heat radiating from his body, and he knew you would never let him live this down. He tried to laugh nervously, hoping that maybe you'd find the whole situation amusing.
You were at a loss for words, you were incredibly flustered..
but that only lasted a few moments.
She flicked through the pages with her thumb, seeing a particular girl on her knees staring up at the camera. The page had spots of what looked like cum, which glistened the page. "Looks like you really liked this position," She turned the magazine so he could see for himself. She stared at him for a moment, seeing a tent begin to form in his pants - he looked slightly ashamed, and his cheeks were almost the same color as his hair. This was the perfect opportunity to mess with him. she slowly walked over to him, standing in front of his legs. she grabbed his knees, spreading them open so she could stand in between them.
Fred was beyond confused now, but he said nothing, his tent in his pants more obvious than earlier. She put the magazine on the bed, then sat down on her knees, looking up at him. "Does this do something to you?" She said, looking up at him. Fred's eyes widened as he took you in, his eyes travelling your position. You could now clearly see the outline of his entire dick, the head almost completely visible. "Aww," She fake pouted. "Poor baby's got a terrible erection." She made a 'tutting' sound with her mouth, then used two fingers to slide into his waist band and tug his pants down to his ankles. Fred's breath hitched as his erection bounced off his stomach. She used her thumb to wipe his tip, his pre-cum already leaking through his underwear. He let out a groan. "Shh, there's people downstairs." She teased. Most of the Weasley family was indeed just downstairs, chatting away. she drags her thumb along the tip of his cock, and she can’t help but smirk against his skin as he shudders. You slipped a hand down his trousers and into his boxers, running it along his length. His eyes were screwed shut in the sheer amount of pleasure that was washing over him as you pumped your hand up and down. He bit his lip to the point that it looked like it was going to start bleeding any second. Fred bucked his hips into her hand, letting out muffled groans. his knuckles began to turn white from how hard he’s gripping his bedsheets. She can feel his dick twitch in her hands.
She then pulls her hand out from his boxers.
He let out a gasp at the sudden loss of touch, his hips thrusting the air for a moment. Fred let out an annoyed groan. "Please-"
She couldn’t help but laugh, a mischievous glint in her eyes. The situation felt far too entertaining for her to keep a straight face. "Seriously, be quiet," she teased, her tone playful but with an edge of caution. "We don’t want anyone hearing us, do we?" A smirk curled on her lips as she let the words sink in. She relished the brief moment of tension in the air, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Then, she stood, taking her time as she made her way toward the door. Her hand brushed the cool wood of the doorframe, lingering for a second as if she was debating something, before she turned back toward him. The playful gleam in her gaze softened, replaced by a more subtle, knowing expression. "I wouldn’t stay in here too long, your family'll get suspicious." She let the words hang in the air for a beat before pushing the door open and stepping out, a confident smirk playing on her lips as she pulled it shut quietly behind her.
Descending the stairs with purpose, she felt a sense of pride swell in her chest. She could hear the sounds of conversation from below, and as she turned the corner, she saw the family in the living room. Molly and Arthur were perched on the couch, the usual warmth of their presence filling the room. George and Ginny sat on the floor in front of them, the faint sound of their laughter mixing with the creaking of the wooden floor beneath their feet.
Molly’s eyes brightened when she spotted her, and she beamed, gesturing for her to join them. "Dear! Come sit, come sit! Where's Freddie?" The question was filled with curiosity, but also the kind of innocent concern that only a mother could express.
Without missing a beat, she slid onto the couch next to George, her body language confident as she casually leaned back. "He’s still upstairs," she replied nonchalantly. "He should be coming down now." She could hear the soft creaking of the stairs from above, the sound of Freddie making his way toward them.
Fred came over, his legs looking as if they were cramped together, and his hands trying to causally look like they were comfortably placed over his crotch - he was hiding his obvious boner. He looked like such a mess - face flushed, breathing unsteadily. George looked at Fred then you suspiciously, and it seemed only him and Authur suspected anything.
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bloatedandalone04 · 15 days ago
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Your Place or Mine
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Summary: Levi is one of the two new operatives assigned to the watchtowers that overlooked The Gorge, and although he was strictly forbidden to contact the other watcher, you prove to be too tempting to pass up. Luckily for him, you just so happen to feel the same way.
Word Count: 6.3k
Warnings: not really spoilers for the gorge but can be ig, loosely follows the plot, fluff, swearing, smut, unprotected sex, pining, touch starved levi, this is lowkey a roller coaster.
It only took Levi a few days to fall into an efficient routine at his new ‘home away from home’, which was the biggest load of shit he’d heard in a while. This place wasn’t his home, he didn’t even know where in the world he was, for fucks sake. 
But he’d make do, because he had literally nothing else better to do, and that was why he was picked for this. Well, that and the fact that he was one hell of a shot. 
He fell into a pattern of walking the Western rim daily, restocking ammo, and checking the containment fence, cloakers and suspended mines and making sure they were all in order. It was pretty easy, and he’d already done his radio check he was required to do every thirty days. 
His mission was to keep the contents of the Gorge inside the tall walls, but Levi still didn’t know what it was, exactly, he was keeping from coming out, because he had yet to witness it, and he’d been here a whole month already. 
With that being said, the change of scenery was nice, and though he missed the beach, he didn’t mind the trees one bit. It was so quiet here, yet Levi wasn’t bored or antsy whatsoever. However, he was…curious about a few things; one being what the fuck he was tasked to watch over, two being who his Eastern counterpart is. 
He hadn’t seen any movement at all across the Gorge, and he tried not to be a total stalker and use the binoculars to look over there and see what was going on on the East side. He assumed it was relatively similar, if not the exact same thing that was going on over here on the West side, which was a whole lot of nothing, but still, he was curious. There was nothing wrong with that, right?
One night in October, Levi was sitting outside on the observation deck of his tower, simply watching the world go by as he jotted down words in his notebook. Being away from his small room at home had really given him some inspiration, creatively, and he was sure he would have over a full book of poems by the time he was finished with this year long mission. 
As he wrote, he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and when he lifted his head, he saw that there was a light shining in his direction from the East Tower, but it wasn’t one of the watch lights. It was from the other person. 
Levi set his book down and got up from the chair, his curiosity peaked as he moved towards the binoculars. What he saw was a woman who looked like she was in her late twenties, standing on the East Towers observation deck, holding up a big notepad that read, ‘HI, NEIGHBOR. WHAT’S YOUR NAME?’
As he read the words, Levi’s lips curved upwards into a smile, and it only grew when he saw the way your own lips had formed a small grin, and even from this far away, he could tell that you’d been as curious about him as he’d been about you. 
And wow, you were fucking stunning. 
While Levi preferred to live his life alone, he had been with his fair share of women and has had girlfriends before, but you were something else. You were so beautiful, and he could tell by your greeting that you were funny, and somehow that only made him feel even more drawn to you. 
He wasn’t curious anymore. No, now he was full on intrigued to know more about his ‘neighbor’. 
Levi looked around the deck for a few seconds before he turned and went inside, hoping he didn’t accidentally give you the wrong impression in his search for something to write on. He grabbed the whiteboard he’d been using as a chart, and carelessly erased the data he’d already re-written elsewhere. 
He quickly went back outside and saw that you were still standing on the opposing deck, though your smile was a little smaller, and he hastily wrote back to you with his big, bold handwriting. 
‘WE ARE NOT ALLOWED CONTACT’. 
Levi held it up and hoped you didn’t take his message too seriously, because he was thinking that this might be a perfect way to pass the time. 
You read the board and pouted a bit before you turned your back to him and flipped to a new page in your book. He watched you write something on it, before you turned back to him and held it up, ‘HAVEN’T YOU EVER BROKEN A RULE FOR FUN?’
Levi laughed to himself as he shook his head, wiping his previous message from the board with his sleeve before he wrote, ‘MAYBE ONCE OR TWICE,’ and went to go hold it up, but then he paused and had an inner debate with himself for a few moments. Fuck it. He added, ‘FOR THE RIGHT PERSON.’ and then held it up for you to read. 
He watched your smile return as your eyes trailed over every word, and he was suddenly very glad he added that last part, because you were full on grinning now, and he was sure it was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen. 
But you didn’t turn away or make a move to write a response, so Levi once again erased his message and scribbled something else down, ‘HAVEN’T YOU?’
When you read his second message, you bit down on your lip, something Levi was able to see almost concerningly well from just how upgraded the equipment was, but he refused to let his mind wander any further than it already has. 
He watched you flip back in your book and scribble something out, and a few seconds later, you were holding up your first question, but had crossed out the first part, leaving only, ‘WHAT’S YOUR NAME?’.
Alright, alright, he’ll play along. 
He grabbed the whiteboard and sprawled his name on it before turning it to you, ‘LEVI KANE,’
Levi watched as you stepped away from the railing again, and he saw the way your lips moved as you tried his name out on your tongue, and now he felt a little desperate to be close enough to hear your voice. And to hear how his name sounded coming from your mouth. 
You nodded slowly, pressing your lips together as you crossed your arms and leaned over the railing a bit, and he tried to not notice the way your chest was pressed together and exposed a bit of cleavage. 
‘WHAT’S YOURS?’ he wrote once he realized he still didn’t know your name, but you seemed to be content with that as you peaked through the binoculars one last time before shrugging with a teasing smile on your lips. 
Then you turned around and walked inside the tower, leaving Levi standing alone outside his own. 
You were mysterious and challenging, and he liked that. A lot. 
And now he couldn’t wait for the next time you and he found yourselves on your respective observation decks at the same time. 
-
A few days went by, and much to Levi’s dismay, he hadn’t been able to communicate with you. But that wasn’t without multiple attempts. 
He casually flickered a flashlight in your direction, left the lights on for a lot longer than needed when he really should’ve been sleeping, and even shot off his gun, which he pretended was an accident, but you weren’t even there to see him do it. 
It was quiet tonight, like most nights, but Levi liked it. It allowed him to write without any interruptions, and as of lately, a certain person had been the main source of his inspiration. 
Funnily enough, it was the same person who just fired off three rounds with her pistol, and Levi shot up out of the chair he was sitting in, similar to the way he usually shoots up out of bed when he has his nightmares. 
His book was tossed aside as he leaned over the railing, his eyes flickering along the East wall of the Gorge to see what you were firing at, but when he saw nothing, he looked up at you and saw the sheet of paper held in your hands. When he looked into the binoculars, he was able to read what you had written down, ‘HEY, STRANGER,’
A slow smile formed on Levi’s lips as his heartbeat slowed down to its normal pace, and he shook his head as he turned around and reached for the whiteboard he kept on the table next to the chair. 
‘HEY BACK,’ he wrote, then held it up for you to see.
You smiled back and then held up another note that said one word. ‘BORED.’
Levi let out a quiet laugh and he let his gaze linger on your features for a few extra seconds before he stepped away from the binoculars again. God, you were so beautiful. Definitely the prettiest thing in this place, and that was a hard thing to compete with since he was surrounded by beautiful scenery. Yet you were still at the top of the list. 
He scribbled down a question on the whiteboard, and he hoped you actually answered it this time, because he was dying to find out if your name was as pretty as the rest of you. ‘ARE YOU GONNA TELL ME YOUR NAME NOW?’
Levi watched your teeth sink into your lip again like it did the first time you and he did this, and this time, he did let his mind wander a bit. He wondered what sound you’d make if he took your lip between his own teeth. He wondered if you’d let him find out somehow.
You looked like you were having an inner debate with yourself before you finally flipped to a new page of the book and wrote something down. That something wasn’t your name, though. ‘WHAT DO I GET IF I TELL YOU?’
The look you gave him as you held it up had Levi pressing his lips together to hold back a groan. You were teasing him like you did before, and fuck if he didn’t like it. ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT?’ he wrote back, and he watched as a genuine smile formed on your lips. 
Then you wrote something else and lifted it for him to see. ‘Y/N,’
It was just your first name, but Levi was more than okay with that, because it lived up to his expectations. Your name was definitely as pretty as the rest of you. 
-
It was December now, and although the weather made Levi’s routine a bit harder, he still found time to talk to you almost every night. 
He still didn’t know your last name, but at this point he didn’t care, because he was very much into you, and you were very much into him. 
From the first night you reached out to him, Levi was hooked, and that feeling only intensified the longer he got to know you. And the close call you and he had a few weeks back definitely solidified his feelings for you, because he hadn’t felt that panicked in a long time as he watched you fire off countless rounds towards his side of the gorge while he defended your side. 
On a side note, at least he finally knew what he was keeping from coming out now. 
Since it was now winter, it was significantly colder out, and there was only so much Levi could do to keep warm. Sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the tower was uncomfortable as fuck before, but now that it was snowing nearly every day, it just became damn near impossible to get any sleep. 
And though he only slept for maybe three hours last night, Levi was wide awake tonight, and from the looks of it, so were you. 
You were sitting on the chair on the observation deck, a blanket draped around your body as you watched the flames of a few candles you had placed on the railing flicker from the wind. It wasn’t snowing right now, so it wasn’t super cold, but even if it was, Levi didn’t think he could pass up the opportunity to talk to you. Of course, in the form of a whiteboard and marker. 
‘HEY, BEAUTIFUL. CAN’T SLEEP?’ he wrote down, then caught your attention by flashing his light at you. 
You got up from the chair and kept the blanket around you as you peered through the binoculars, and a pretty smile formed on your lips, which only served to prove his words. You wrote down something in your book before holding it up, ‘I CAN…BUT I DON’T WANT TO. I WAS WAITING FOR YOU,’
Levi smirked and jotted down his response, this part of his nightly routine definitely being his favorite by far. ‘SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING. YOU COLD?’
Your smile grew before you gave him a pointed look, and he laughed as you wrote down your answer. ‘A LITTLE…WISH I HAD SOMEONE HERE WITH ME,’ you held up the page for a few seconds before quickly flipping onto a new one and writing something else, ‘YOU KNOW, SO WE CAN SHARE BODY HEAT.’
Levi groaned at your words and felt a familiar stirring in his groin, but he made no move to relieve it as he simply wrote down another message to you. ‘YOU BETTER BE TALKING ABOUT ME,’
During the first month of knowing you, Levi would’ve never written something so bold, but after a few months, he knew where you and he stood with each other. He’d made his interest known, and you’d done the same. It was fair game now.
He watched as your shoulders shook a bit as you laughed, and fuck he wanted to hear that sound so badly. He wanted to hear your voice, see your gorgeous smile up close, and he wanted to see if you fit as perfectly in his arms as he thinks you do. 
Most of all, he wanted to taste those lips of yours and tug on your bottom one in the way you do every time he looks over at you. 
You leaned over the railing a bit as you held up your sheet of paper, and Levi felt another surge of desire run through his body. ‘OF COURSE I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU,’
He bit down on his own lip as he shook his head and wiped down the whiteboard before writing something else. ‘SO MUCH FOR STAYING PROFESSIONAL,’
Nothing about this was professional. None of it. Levi had broken the strict rule of absolutely no contact with the East side watcher, but how could he have possibly followed it after he saw you for the first time? You were far too tempting. Far too alluring and captivating and enticing. And Levi was all in. 
‘WERE WE EVER?’ you held up the note, and Levi knew he needed to head inside the tower, because he was concerningly close to showing you just how much your words affected him. 
-
Towards the end of January, the snow had already begun melting, and it wasn’t nearly as cold out anymore. 
Levi was sitting on the edge of the tower, his legs dangling off the edge as the wind blew through his hair. His chin was propped on one of the bars as he looked down at the Gorge, but he couldn’t see much because of the fog. 
Really, he’d rather not see the things that are down there again, because they were nothing short of nightmare fuel, and he didn’t need any more of those. 
Nearly half a year here, surrounded by nothing at all but trees, and yet he didn’t feel lonely at all. Isolated, sure, but not lonely. 
When a flicker of light caught his eye, he looked up and saw you shining the beam of sunlight that was bouncing off your knife in his direction, and Levi felt a grin form on his face as he slowly stood up and looked through the binoculars. ‘WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT?’
A warm feeling took over his body, because you must have been watching him for a while, and that filled him with a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. 
He grabbed the whiteboard that was next to his book full of poems, most about you, and wrote down a simple answer. But he knew it’d make that pretty blush form on your face again. That was something else he was dying to see up close. 
‘NOW? YOU,’
Levi was right in his assumption, as he saw your face break out into a smile and a soft blush, and you shook your head as you leaned against the railing. 
Before you could think of anything to say back, he erased his words and returned your question, and you purse your lips as you peeked through the binoculars again. 
You wandered over to your notepad and took your time writing something back, but Levi wasn’t impatient. Out here, with you just across the way from him, it felt like he had all the time in the world.
And you were worth the wait. 
A few minutes passed before you lifted the page and revealed your words, and what pretty words they were. ‘YOU’RE A BREATH OF AIR, LEVI. AND I CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF YOU,’
Levi felt a shudder run through him, because that was exactly how he felt about you. He hadn’t heard you say a word to him, hadn’t seen you up close at all, and yet he couldn’t get enough of you. 
And you’d just given him your heart. He’d make damn sure he took care of it, just as long as you took care of his. 
With a steady hand, he wrote his response to you on the whiteboard before holding it up, ‘I’M FALLING HARD FOR YOU,’
And now he’d just given you his heart, though something tells him he’d already given it to you a few months ago. 
Your eyes closed once you’d read his message, and you pressed your lips together as you flipped to a new page in your book, and Levi watched as you scribbled something down onto it. ‘I KNOW WHAT I WANT. BECAUSE I TOLD YOU MY NAME,’
Levi was instantly taken back to the second night you and he exchanged notes, and how you expected something from him if you told him what your name was. He was more than willing to deliver on whatever it was you wanted. 
You took your time again as you wrote something else down, then flipped onto a new page before you even showed him the first one, and a few seconds later, Levi watched you go back to the previous page and hold it up, ‘IF WE EVER GET TO SEE EACH OTHER FOR REAL,’ then you flipped to the last page, ‘THE VERY FIRST THING I WANT YOU TO DO IS KISS ME.’
Levi felt a smug grin form on his face before he pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. He could definitely do that. He’d definitely do that. One hundred percent. Because he wasn’t falling for you anymore. He had already fallen, and there was no going back. 
He barely missed a beat as he picked up the marker again and wrote down a question, but it wasn’t really a question. It was more like…a promise. 
Once he purposely ended his sentence with a period rather than a question mark, he held the whiteboard up near his chest, which was home to his heart that was secretly beating very fast. 
‘YOUR PLACE OR MINE.’
-
A few days after that last interaction, Levi had been working on the easiest and most efficient way to get across the gaping ravine to you. 
He was going to fire off a literal rocket launcher with a zipline attached to it and then would trust you to tie it tight enough to whatever you could find so he didn’t fall into the Gorge. 
Once that was done, he made himself look as presentable as he could, which required him to shave a bit and smooth out his hair. Then he picked a small bouquet of wildflowers for you, and then he was off. 
The journey across wasn’t so bad, well the first half anyway. The last half required him to pull himself the rest of the way across, but it wasn’t too hard, thanks to all his previous training in the Marines. 
With that being said, he was a little breathless when he finally made it over to the East side and unclipped himself from the zipline. His heart was beating fast, and part of it was because of the extra work he didn’t account for just then, but also because he was finally, finally, seeing you face to face. 
As he started walking towards your tower, he heard the metal door swing open, and a few seconds later, you turned the corner and met his gaze almost instantly. He moved closer, and you looked as nervous as he felt, which was a cute change to your usual playful and teasing personality. 
When he stood only a few inches from you, Levi let his eyes flicker all over your face as he took in all the stunning little details he failed to see through the binoculars, and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close as he explored your mouth with his tongue, making sure he satisfied the one thing you told him you wanted him to do when you got to finally meet up. 
The second his lips touched yours, it felt like everything had fallen into place. You kissed him back just as intensely, your hands reaching up to cradle his face, and he felt like he could easily become addicted to this. 
Levi pulled you impossibly closer, his hands resting rather possessively on your lower back for this being the first time he’s ever touched you, but he couldn’t help himself. You fit against him perfectly, and you simply just felt perfect. 
When he finally broke the kiss, he was breathing a little heavier, and he gazed into your eyes as a grin spread across his face. “That,” he whispered, “was definitely worth waiting for.”
You laughed quietly, and he tightened his hold on you even more as he heard your voice for the first time after months of passing notes back and forth. “Absolutely,” you agreed, your thumb brushing along his cheek and smoothing over the ridges that were there from his scars. Your eyes left his and you glanced down at the bouquet he’d tucked into his belt, and he nearly moaned when you bit down on your lip. “Are those for me?”
Levi’s smile felt permanent as he reached down to pull the flowers out and offer them to you. “Of course they’re for you,” he answered, watching as you took them from him like they were the most precious things you’d ever held. His hand went back to your waist as he leaned in closer again. “So…what do we do now?”
He’d technically done what he came here to do, which was to give you the best first kiss of your fucking life, but that wasn’t the only reason, and he hoped that was as obvious to you as it was to him. 
You smiled up at him before leaning in as well and draping your arms around his shoulders, your chest pressing right up against his as you hugged him for a few seconds. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled back to kiss him again, this one a little shorter, but still just as amazing as the first one. 
“How about I give you a tour? Show you what it’s like over here on the East side?” you offered when you pulled away and pressed your forehead against his, and he knew by the teasing tone in your voice that a tour was probably the last thing that was on your mind. 
Still, he hummed and nodded slowly, letting you take his hand in your small one and lead him towards the door and up the stairs. He shamelessly let his eyes wander all over your backside as he trailed behind you, and he couldn’t believe he was finally with you after months of pining. 
When you and he got to the top, he looked around the open space for a few seconds. It was about the same size as his tower, but he didn’t have a piano in his, which was a little unfair. “Quite the setup you’ve got here,” he observed, eyeing the mattress you had pulled all the way up here, just like he did with his. 
You laughed as you walked over to the small kitchenette that was on the far side of the room, and he quickly decided that it was one of his favorite sounds. “I imagine it looks quite similar to yours,” you murmured as you filled a glass with water before placing the flowers in it and setting it down on the top of the piano. 
Levi did another sweep of the relatively simple and clean room. “Can’t say it does,” he replied, shaking his head afterwards. “Yours is definitely better.”
You smile over at him before moving closer and reaching for his hand. “I’m so happy you’re here,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. 
Levi’s breath got caught in his throat, and he swallowed quickly as his free hand reached up to cup your cheek. “I’m happy I’m here too,” he said back just as quietly as he stepped closer to you. “So fucking happy.”
The air had been thick with tension since the second he stepped foot on this side, and he tried not to give it too much attention, he really did, but it had only grown thicker, and now all Levi wanted to do was kiss you again, touch you all over, and completely give in. 
You were so much shorter than him and moved with a lot more grace than he did as you led him over towards the makeshift bed, and he was content with letting you take the lead, because he was ready when you were, and though he couldn’t wait, he could wait for you. 
He pulled you against his chest again, his hands settling on your hips as he looked down at you, and your eyes were so fucking gorgeous up close. Every part of you was. And he wanted to memorize every inch of you before he had to go back to his tower. 
Your hands rested on his shoulders, and you gently dug your fingers into his skin as you guided him down until he was on his knees beside the mattress. You followed him down so you were kneeling in front of him, and you still had to look up at him as you caressed his face. “Tell me to stop and I will,” you whispered, your lips curving upwards into a teasing smile. “But I hope you know that I really don’t want to.”
“Then don’t stop,” he said back, his hands reaching for your hips again as he pulled you so you were straddling his lap. You were small in his arms, yet you felt absolutely perfect against him like this. His voice was a little rougher as he repeated the words he would be saying again soon enough, “Don’t stop.”
You let out a shaky sigh, your lips curling up into a relieved smile before you were leaning in and kissing him deeply, like the two before this one. Your hands gently pulled at his hair as you kissed him, and everything felt right. Like he already belonged here. Like he already belonged with you. 
When you pulled away from his mouth, your teeth tugged at his bottom lip as you slowly rolled your hips against his, and Levi let out a soft groan. “Do you want to?” you quietly asked, your thumb stroking along his beard and chin.  
Did he want to? Were you seriously asking him that right now? He couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t stop his hands from touching every part of you he’s thought about over and over again while laying on his own bed across the Gorge from you. 
“Do I want to?” he echoed, his voice a bit strained as he pulled you against him a little harder. “Fuck yes, I want to.”
You nod quickly and go to bite down on your lip again before Levi leaned in and connected your mouths once more. His big hands slid up your back under your shirt, and he could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin from his touch.
He helped you pull off his jacket and shirt, leaving his chest bare to your eyes when you pulled back to look at him. His thumb traced your bottom lip as your gaze flickered over every inch of his upper half, and you let out a soft sigh. “Fuck…you’re so hot,” you whispered and leaned in to press opened mouthed kisses along his shoulder
Levi groaned under his breath, his head tipping back a bit to give you more access as his hands pulled at your shirt until it was off your body, leaving your top half nearly bare. Your hands were running along his abs and chest when you pulled back and looked at him, your eyes hooded and unguarded. 
“Touch me,” you encouraged quietly, and Levi finally let himself indulge in you. 
His gaze dropped down to the tops of your breasts that your bra didn’t cover, and he was reminded of the teaser he got that first night when you leaned over the railing. Fuck the view from this angle was even better. 
He slid his hands up your back as he leaned his head down and pressed soft kisses to your skin before he buried his face between your flesh. Your moan was music to his ears as he let his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra, and he slowly guided the straps down your arms.
“God,” he groaned when the fabric hit the floor, and his hands immediately explored the newly exposed skin of your breasts. “You’re so gorgeous.” he breathed, his thumbs brushing over your nipples until they pebbled at his touch. 
You were so beautiful, you took his breath away. Your skin was warm and inviting, begging to be touched and worshipped. By him, of course. 
He leaned up and kissed you again when you reached down and unzipped his pants before pushing them down his legs. His tongue brushed against yours as he explored your mouth, and then you pulled away to tug off your jeans and panties, and his lips brushed against your hard nipples before you settled back down on his lap. 
Levi was so hard for you, he knew you could feel him through his boxers as you rolled your body against his again as you kissed him and ran your fingers through his hair. You pulled away and tugged his boxers down his legs so you both were completely naked, and the setting sun casted golden hues onto your skin in a way that made you look like something straight out of Heaven. 
He knew then that he loved you. He could finally admit it to himself. He loves you. 
Levi sucked in a harsh breath when you lowered yourself onto him, your heat enveloping his cock like a glove. “Oh fuck,” he groaned at your tightness, one of his hands caressing your lower back while his other wrapped around the back of your neck. 
He guided your face down to his so your foreheads were pressed together, and he was met with the beautiful sound of your moan when you started to slowly ride him. “Oh, my God,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as your hips rolled against his. 
Levi groaned, feeling your tight pussy squeezing him in a way that had him seeing stars behind his closed eyelids. Your chest brushed against his with every slow bounce, and he loved it. He loved all of it, the feeling, the sounds you were making, how good you felt in his arms. 
“You feel amazing,” he rasped out, his hands moving down to your ass. “God…don’t stop.” he begged, repeating his earlier words as he met you halfway with shallow thrusts. 
Your hands pulled at his hair as you let out loud moans and moved a bit faster on him. “Levi,” you whimpered, and he felt himself twitch deep inside you, because that was the first time he’d heard what his name sounded like coming from you. And he was already obsessed with it. 
“Fuck,” he muttered, gripping you a bit tighter as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Say that again. Please, baby.”
You shuddered in his arms, and he had a feeling that you had a thing for pet names, which was definitely something he would keep in mind from here on out. 
“Levi,” you moaned again, this time directly into his ear, and he growled lowly, deciding to give you a break as he rolled you onto your side and onto the mattress. He supported himself on his elbow as he began to thrust in and out of you in the new position, his other arm wrapping around you and holding you flush against his chest. 
“So tight,” he murmured under his breath, his eyes dark with desire and utter adoration. “So good.”
You moaned a little louder and let him lean down to capture your lips in a messy kiss as he continued to fuck up into you. “Oh, God, you feel so good,” you echoed against his lips as you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders. 
Levi could feel you tightening around him, and his hand slid back down to your ass as he pulled you harder against him. “Fuck, I’m close,” he muttered, and you nodded quickly as you ran your hands down his back, your nails leaving faint red lines along his skin. 
“Me too,” you whispered, and then he felt you tense up in his arms when he thrust a little harder. Your eyes were nearly shut as you moaned for him, and when he felt you tighten around him even more, Levi leaned in and kissed you quickly before he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, satisfying his own craving as you came around him. 
The sound you made went straight to his cock, and his eyes rolled back a bit as he rolled his hips a few more times before pulling out and coming all over your stomach and thigh. 
You were shaking and whimpering as you came down from your high, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and him. You looked absolutely breathtaking. 
He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him as he let out heavy breaths. “I’ve never felt anything like that before,” he confessed, his lips brushing against the top of your head as you snuggled against him. 
“Me either,” you said back, and he never wanted to leave your side. 
An unknown amount of time passed before you and he finally got up and showered together, and his hands never left your body for more than a few seconds. He accidentally let it slip up that he had written a handful of poems about you, and you begged him to read them to you, but he told you he would the next time he got to hold you against him after today.
That was his promise to you. That this was just the first time you and he got to properly see each other. It wasn’t the last. 
When the time to go to sleep came, Levi held your body in his arms like you were always meant to be there, and for the first time in a very long time, his nightmares didn’t wake him up. 
-
The next morning, when he was forced to return back to the West side, Levi kissed you until you were breathless, then he was making the trek across the Gorge and back to his own watchtower. 
  Later that day, just as the sun was starting to set, Levi was well past the point of missing you. He was cold without you, the quiet now louder than ever after the day and night he spent with you. 
When he glanced over at your tower, he saw you already looking at him, your notepad held up in your hands, and he sighed. 
He could live like this for a little while longer. But after this? After this, he was going to figure out a way to be with you properly. Because he was tired of being alone. He wanted you. 
‘I’M COLD AGAIN…MISS YOUR WARMTH ALREADY. AND YOUR LIPS,’
Levi smiled at that and shook his head as he grabbed his whiteboard. He missed all of you already. 
Once he’d finished writing down his own message to you, he held it up for you to read, and the smile you gave him was all the reassurance he needed to know that this was real. This was the real thing. And it was just the beginning. 
After this, he’d never be alone again. 
‘KEEP WARM, BABY. TIL WE MEET AGAIN…ALWAYS THINKING OF YOU.’
-
Thanks for reading x | @thetorturedpoetcalleddez @broosterradley @spookystitchery @afangirlfandom @different-tale-student @impossibleblizzardstudentposts @shanimallina87
507 notes · View notes
winwintea · 2 months ago
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mutual affection
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PAIRING ↬ physics student!park jisung x fem!reader
TAGS ↬ FLUFF!!! the cheese is so cheesing here, way too many physics puns, you might cringe but here it is, i love park jisung, love love love him
SUMMARY ↬ sometimes, love isn’t theoretical—it’s proven, one note at a time.
WORD COUNT ↬ 2.6k words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ wow i’m a nerd. MEERRY CHRISTMAS @polarisjisung THIS ONE IS FOR YOU MY LOVE <33
PLAYLIST ↬ rhinestone eyes - gorillaz; swan - miyeon; song 2 - blur; missing you - ftisland;
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JISUNG TAPPED HIS PEN AGAINST HIS NOTEBOOK RHYTHMICALLY,
pretending to take notes as the professor droned on about Schrödinger's Equation. It wasn’t that he disliked quantum mechanics—he loved it—but today, the equations felt heavier than usual. His eyes wandered to the person sitting next to him—you.
You were furiously scribbling in your notebook, not writing notes but...drawing? Jisung squinted. Was that a...cat? No, two cats. One inside a box labeled "alive" and the other "dead." He felt a grin tugging at his lips before he could stop himself.
A faint chuckle escaped, and he ducked his head, mortified, as you glanced his way. He was sure he’d blown his cover—who laughs during a physics lecture? But instead of being annoyed, your lips began to form a small smirk.
“Like what you see?” you whispered, sliding your notebook slightly closer to him.
Jisung blinked. Was this a test? A joke? Chenle said he always had trouble talking to women. Something about playing too much League and not touching grass. But it wasn’t his fault! And Chenle was wrong. He did touch grass. He hesitated but gave you an awkward nod, his brain scrambling for something to say. “It’s, uh... creative. Schrödinger would be impressed.”
You snorted softly, flipping the notebook his way completely. Beneath the doodle, you wrote:
"Your turn."
Jisung froze. Your turn? What was he supposed to draw? He glanced back at you, but you were already watching the professor again, feigning disinterest, though the corner of your mouth continued to twitch with amusement.
Heart pounding, Jisung picked up his pen. Drawing wasn’t exactly his forte, but he couldn’t just pass up the challenge. He quickly sketched a stick figure version of himself, complete with messy hair and oversized glasses, holding a comically oversized Geiger counter pointed at the box.
Next to the drawing, he added:
“Should I open it or...?”
He slid the notebook back your way, staring straight ahead, willing himself not to blush. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you lean over to inspect his work. There was a brief pause, and then—you laughed. Not just a quiet chuckle but an actual laugh, soft and melodic.
“That’s not bad,” you whispered, your tone teasing. “Stick figures are an underrated art form.”
Jisung risked a glance your way, only to find you grinning at him, eyes bright with amusement. For the first time, he smiled back without overthinking it.
As the lecture continued, neither of you paid much attention to the professor. Instead, your notebook became the canvas for the beginning of a tradition—tiny doodles, puns, and inside jokes that somehow made quantum mechanics infinitely more interesting.
Jisung couldn’t explain it, but as he scribbled out a little equation to accompany his next doodle, he felt a strange, unfamiliar excitement bubbling in his chest. For the first time, class didn’t feel so dull anymore.
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It started with Schrödinger’s cat, but it didn’t stop there. For the next lecture, Jisung was prepared. He had a small stack of sticky notes tucked into his notebook, ready for whatever you might throw at him.
You were already scribbling something when he slid into his seat. The professor began discussing wave-particle duality, but Jisung’s focus was on the tiny folded note you flicked onto his desk.
He cautiously unfolded it. Written in neat handwriting was:
“Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.”
Jisung nearly choked on air, covering his mouth to stifle a laugh. He could feel the tips of his ears heating up as he turned to look at you. You were staring straight ahead, pen twirling between your fingers, but your smirk gave you away.
He scribbled back quickly:
“Are you a black hole? Because you’ve got some serious pull.”
You took the note, bit your lip to keep from laughing, and scribbled something before passing it back.
“Careful, Park. You might reach escape velocity at this rate.”
For the rest of the lecture, neither of you could keep straight faces. Jisung felt lighter than he had in weeks.
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Two lectures later, during a painfully long discussion on thermodynamic entropy, Jisung felt like his brain was melting. Next to him, you seemed to be having the same struggle.
He noticed you sketching again, your tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. A few minutes later, you nudged his elbow and slid a folded scrap paper toward him.
He opened it to find an absolutely ridiculous cartoon: a dramatic black hole with wild hair and glasses that looked suspiciously like the professor’s. Around it, little stick figures were being sucked into the gravitational pull, textbooks flying everywhere.
At the bottom, you’d scrawled:
“Entropy? More like ENTRAP-Y.”
Jisung clamped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking as he tried (and failed) to contain his laughter. The professor paused, eyes squinting at the two of you, and Jisung froze in shock.
When the professor turned back to the whiteboard, Jisung quickly scribbled a response:
“I think I just lost three brain cells to this singularity.”
You snorted quietly, and for the rest of the class, both of you avoided eye contact to prevent another laughing fit.
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It wasn’t always jokes. At some point, the notes started to change.
One afternoon, after a particularly rough group presentation where Jisung stumbled over his words more than once, he slumped into his usual seat next to you, clutching his notebook like a shield.
You didn’t say anything at first, just slid a folded piece of paper onto his desk.
“You did great today. Public speaking is the worst, but you made your point, and honestly, half the class was lost after the second slide anyway.”
Jisung stared at the note for a long moment before writing back.
“Thanks. I always feel like I’m messing up. Group projects make it ten times worse because I’m scared I’ll let everyone down.”
You read it, your expression softening before you wrote back:
“I get that. But hey, if we ever have to do a project together, I’ll handle the talking, and you can handle the math. Deal?”
Jisung’s chest felt warm in a way he couldn’t quite describe.
“Deal.”
It was late in the semester, the kind of day where the sunlight streamed through the classroom windows just right, making everything feel a little softer. The professor was lecturing about particle accelerators, and Jisung was genuinely trying to focus—until he noticed you scribbling on a slip of paper.
You passed it to him without looking up.
“If you could work anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
Jisung hesitated. No one had ever asked him that before—not seriously, anyway.
“NASA, probably. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had this strange obsession with space. It feels like there’s so much to discover, you know?”
You grinned when you read his response.
“That’s so cool. I’d want to be there too. Maybe one day we’ll run into each other in the cafeteria, arguing about quarks over sandwiches.”
Jisung smiled, his heart doing this weird fluttery thing that he couldn’t quite explain.
“I’d argue that up quarks are superior, but I’d let you win. Probably.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, scribbled something back, and slid the note over.
“You’d let me win? Park Jisung, are you challenging me to a quark debate?”
For the rest of class, Jisung couldn’t stop smiling.
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Each note became a little window into your world and a bridge into his. It wasn’t just the jokes or the sketches—it was the little truths tucked between the lines. And every time he unfolded a piece of paper from you, Jisung felt a little less like an awkward physics student and a little more like…someone special.
Jisung’s head was spinning as he shoved his notebook into his backpack. The lecture had just ended, and while most of the class was still debating the finer points of entropy, his focus was on the small scrap of paper tucked between the pages of his notes.
It wasn’t supposed to leave his bag. It was just…a silly thought he’d scribbled down late at night when he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
But as he hurried to pack up, the folded note slipped loose and landed on your desk.
He didn’t notice until he was halfway out the door.
You were still sitting, absently flipping through your notes, when your gaze fell on the scrap of paper. You picked it up and unfolded it, eyebrows raising at the messy handwriting:
“I think the Doppler effect explains why my heart races whenever you’re near.”
You froze. The edges of the paper trembled in your fingers as the words sank in, and your cheeks warmed instantly.
“Jisung?” you called out instinctively, but he was already gone, lost in the crowd of students exiting the lecture hall.
Heart pounding, you hesitated for a moment before grabbing your pen. On the back of the note, you wrote carefully:
“Newton’s Third Law says every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I feel the same way.”
The next lecture couldn’t come fast enough.
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Jisung didn’t sleep much the night before class. The realization that he’d left that note behind had haunted him. Maybe you’d thrown it away. Maybe you’d laughed at it.
But when he walked into the lecture hall the next day, you were already there. Sitting in your usual seat, you looked up as he approached, and your smile was soft—almost shy.
“Hey,” you said, sliding a small folded note across the desk.
Jisung swallowed nervously, hands trembling slightly as he opened it.
Newton’s Third Law. Equal and opposite reaction.
His eyes scanned the words once, twice, before he finally dared to meet your gaze. You were biting your lip, your eyes bright with anticipation.
Jisung’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “You—You feel the same?”
You nodded. “It’s simple physics, Park. Cause and effect.”
He let out a breathless laugh, hand coming up to cover his face as his shoulders shook slightly. “I can’t believe you’re using physics laws to confess to me right now.”
“Technically, you started it,” you said with a grin.
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It was the end of a particularly brutal thermodynamics lecture. Jisung’s brain was fried, and judging by your furrowed brow, you weren’t faring much better.
The professor dismissed the class, and everyone packed up sluggishly. Jisung hesitated as he glanced at you, still scribbling something in your notes.
“See you later?” you said casually, but Jisung didn’t respond.
Instead, he slid a small, carefully folded piece of paper onto your desk before rushing out the door.
You blinked after him, confused, before carefully unfolding the note.
It was a Feynman diagram.
But instead of particle interactions, Jisung had mapped out…you and him.
At one vertex was a little stick figure of him, labeled “Jisung”, and at another, a tiny doodle of you labeled “(Y/N)”. Between the two were arrows labeled “Shared Jokes”, “Physics Puns”, and “Mutual Nerdiness”, and tiny hearts scattered along the connections.
At the bottom, in small, slightly wobbly handwriting, he’d written:
“I like you.”
Your face felt like it was on fire, but you couldn’t stop the wide smile spreading across your lips.
When you walked out of the lecture hall, Jisung was leaning against the wall, clutching the strap of his backpack like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
“Jisung,” you said softly, holding up the note.
He shifted nervously, avoiding your gaze. “I, um…I thought it might be easier to…you know…diagram it out.”
You laughed—a soft, delighted sound—and pulled out your pen.
Carefully, right at the bottom of his diagram, you added a new arrow connecting your doodle to his.
“Mutual Affection.”
You held it up so he could see, and Jisung’s eyes widened. His lips parted slightly in surprise before breaking into the brightest smile you’d ever seen.
“So…you like me too?” he asked quietly, voice trembling just a little.
“I think it’s safe to say we’ve reached a stable equilibrium,” you said with a grin.
He laughed—a sound full of relief and joy—and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, smiling at each other in the middle of the crowded hallway.
Physics could explain a lot of things, but this? The way Jisung’s heart felt like it was about to escape his chest, the way your eyes would crinkle when you smiled at him—this felt like a force of nature all its own.
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By the time midterms had passed and the days grew shorter, the notes between you and Jisung had shifted. There were still plenty of physics jokes and ridiculous doodles—like the time he drew you both as photons bouncing off a reflective surface—but now there were softer words, too.
Between derivatives and integrals, you’d find little sentences scribbled in his neat handwriting:
“I hope you’re eating enough today.”
“You looked really pretty in the lab yesterday.”
“The universe is expanding, but I think my feelings for you are growing faster.”
In return, you wrote him notes on sticky tabs and slipped them into his textbook:
“Don’t stay up too late studying tonight. Even electrons need rest.”
One afternoon, after a particularly chaotic study session in the library, Jisung passed you a folded note with a tiny sketch of two orbiting electrons, labeled “You” and “Me”, with a little heart in the nucleus.
Underneath, he’d written:
“Stable bond achieved.”
You laughed softly, clutching the note like it was precious cargo.
“Park Jisung, you’re ridiculous,” you whispered.
He grinned, cheeks turning pink. “But you like it, right?”
You leaned over, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “I like you.”
Jisung turned bright red and nearly dropped his pen.
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The lecture hall was unnervingly silent during your final exam. The only sounds were the scratch of pencils on paper and the faint ticking of the clock.
You were halfway through a particularly frustrating question on thermodynamic efficiency when your calculator, which you’d been using furiously, clicked slightly as you pressed down on the buttons.
You frowned, turning it over—and noticed a tiny piece of folded paper tucked neatly into the battery compartment.
Your eyes darted up to scan the room. Jisung was a few rows ahead, hunched over his paper, completely engrossed in his work.
Heart racing, you carefully unfolded the note beneath the desk.
It was a small sketch, drawn with the same endearing messiness Jisung always brought to his doodles.
At the top, a hand-drawn banner read: “You’re the best experiment I’ve ever run.”
Below it, a sketch of the two of you: you with your hair tied back, him with his glasses askew and a shy smile. Little stars and hearts floated around the cartoon versions of yourselves, and at the bottom, he’d written:
“Hypothesis: Spending time with you improves my mood exponentially. Conclusion: Hypothesis confirmed.”
You pressed your hand over your mouth to hide your smile, your face heating up as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
Carefully, you scribbled on the back with your pencil:
“Conclusion peer-reviewed and verified. Park Jisung, you’re my favorite discovery.”
When the exam ended, and everyone started filing out, you caught up to him in the hallway.
“Hey, Newton,” you said softly.
Jisung turned, his nervous smile flickering into something brighter when he saw you holding up the note.
“Did you…did you find it?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I did.” You stepped closer, holding the paper gently between your fingers. “You know, I think you might be my best result yet.”
Jisung let out a soft laugh, cheeks flushed pink. “Does that mean we’ve achieved optimal conditions?”
You grinned, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. “Definitely. Stable equilibrium achieved.”
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TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams
501 notes · View notes
i2sunric · 3 months ago
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𝗙𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (l.hs)
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right person, wrong time.
MASTERLIST
PAIRING: idol!heeseung x reader (f)
SUMMARY: when you were a child, you had always believed your life was a fairytale, but as you grew up you realised it was just a childish thought. because your story didn’t end with happily ever after.
WARNINGS: heartbreak, break up, heeseung barely has time for reader, he’s a little in denial, reader tries to be strong for the both of them, angst, established relationship, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 20th November 2024
WC: 3.1k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @senascoooop @mitmit01 (project) @whateverhoon
NOW PLAYING: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you entered the quaint café tucked into the corner of the bustling city street.
It was your sanctuary on most days—a place where time slowed down, where you could read in peace.
When your college life got a little too stressful, you liked to give yourself an afternoon of rest, where you could read and just look at all the people around you, while also enjoying a cup of coffee.
The soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of porcelain cups created a soothing symphony that you had come to associate with comfort.
But today, your usual spot by the window was taken.
Your eyes landed on the stranger sitting there, his face buried in a notebook.
His sharp features were softened by the sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating his messy, dark hair. He looked completely engrossed in whatever he was working on, his pen flying across the page with an intensity that piqued your curiosity. Like he was creating a masterpiece.
But whatever he was doing didn’t matter, since he was sitting in your usual spot. Even the owner knew you always sat there and sometimes left you encouraging notes.
Reluctantly, you found another seat, tucked in the corner, and tried to focus on your book. Nonetheless your gaze kept drifting back to him.
There was something magnetic about the way he existed in his own little world, his brow furrowing as he worked, his lips occasionally quirking up in a small smile as if he were amusing himself with his thoughts.
He was truly enchanting in his whole being.
When he finally looked up, your eyes met. You froze, caught in the act of staring, but instead of looking annoyed, he smiled—wide and genuine, as if he’d just caught an old friend sneaking glances at him.
You unconsciously frowned and averted your gaze, feeling awkward.
Though, you glanced at him again with the former of your eye, “You can sit here if you want,” he called out, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.
Caught off guard, you hesitated a little before grabbing your coffee and book, making your way over. “Thanks,” you murmured, settling into the seat.
You melted into the seat right away, loving the feeling of familiarity. You didn’t particularly enjoy your routine being messed up.
“No problem,” he said, closing his notebook but leaving his pen resting on top. “I always feel bad taking up spots when it’s this busy.”
You glanced down at the notebook, curious but polite enough not to ask. “You looked pretty focused,” you said. “Are you a writer?”
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Kind of, I write music.”
Your eyebrows raised. “Really? That’s impressive.”
He laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Most of the time, I’m just scribbling nonsense and hoping something good comes out of it.”
“Still,” you said, “It takes a lot of creativity to do that. I can barely write an email without second-guessing myself.”
He grinned. “It’s not about perfection, it’s about letting yourself be…” he pointed at himself “messy.”
The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. You learned his name— Lee Heeseung —and that he was a dreamer through and through. He talked about his music with a passion that lit up his eyes, about the things he wanted to create and the places he wanted to see.
You found out that he was preparing a song to audition at a famous local music label, hoping to become a trainee and debut later on.
It was impressive, how he was young yet so engrossed in his dream. It made you a little jealous, too.
“I think life is about chasing what makes you feel alive,” he said at one point, his gaze distant as if he were imagining it all. Picturing his future together.
You couldn’t help but smile, though your own perspective was far more grounded. “I think life is about appreciating the small things,” you countered. “Like this coffee, or a really good book.”
You tapped your nails on the mug, “Chasing big dreams is great, but if you’re always looking ahead, you miss what’s right in front of you.”
Heeseung tilted his head, considering your words. “I guess I never thought about it that way,” he admitted. “But doesn’t staying still scare you? Like you’re missing out on something bigger?”
“And doesn’t constantly moving forward scare you?” you shot back. “Like you’re missing what’s already here?”
He laughed, the sound warm and light. “Touché. I think we might be complete opposites.”
“Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But opposites can complement each other, right?”
He smiled back, and in that moment, something shifted between you. It was as if the universe had nudged you toward each other, two different pieces of the same puzzle finally fitting together.
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It didn’t take much for the two of you to levitate closer, to the point of going from casual reading-writing hangouts to dates.
Fitting both of your schedules was difficult, but those little hours you spent together were worth it all.
It was one of the rare days where Heeseung was free from any training sessions, and instead of getting his much needed rest, he decided to spend his afternoon with you
Despite nagging at him for his lack of self-care, you were secretly glad he was making time for you, even if it was just for a couple of hours.
The sun was high in the sky, its golden rays filtering through the trees as you and Heeseung lay on the grass in the park.
A blanket was spread out beneath you, scattered with remnants of your picnic, empty containers, a couple of soda cans, and a half-eaten bagel. All the strawberries had been eaten, though.
Heeseung was strumming his guitar lazily, the soft melody weaving through the air. You were lying on your back, staring up at the clouds, feeling the kind of peace that only came from moments like this—unhurried, unplanned, perfect in their simplicity.
“Look,” you said, pointing to a fluffy cloud drifting overhead. “Doesn’t that one look like a cat?”
Heeseung stopped playing and tilted his head, squinting at the sky. “A cat? No way. That’s totally a dragon.”
You laughed, nudging him with your foot. “You’re just saying that because you like dragons.”
“And you’re just saying cat because you’re obsessed with them,” he teased, leaning back on his elbows to look at you. “Admit it, I’m right.”
“Never,” you said with a grin, sticking out your tongue.
Heeseung set his guitar aside and rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he looked at you. “You’re so stubborn,” he said, but there was no annoyance in his voice—only affection.
“Someone has to keep you on your toes,” you quipped, your smile softening under his gaze.
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You know,” he said quietly, “I think this might be my favourite day ever.”
You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but you couldn’t help but smile. “It’s just a picnic,” you said, trying to downplay the fluttering in your chest.
“It’s not just a picnic,” he said, his voice serious now. “It’s this. Being here with you, doing nothing, and feeling like it’s everything.”
It was true that song writers had their way with words.
Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Heeseung, the grass beneath you, the sky above, and the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.
You climbed onto his lap, sneaking in between his chest and his guitar.
“Teach me how to play it,” You said, which sounded so silly. You didn’t even know how to read notes, so you were a lost cause.
But you wanted to spend time with him, doing something he liked— so, you placed your fingers on the cords.
Heeseung smiled and placed his slender ones over yours, guiding your hand to create a melody.
“Middle finger here.” He whispered, his hand moving your fingers “Index here, and with the other hand you…” He stroked your fingers on the cords.
You giggled happily “It sounded good.” You tried to do it again and again, until he showed you all the notes and melodies. Until the sun lowered, leaving a magenta and pinkish sky behind.
“I’ll be busy for a while.” He announced as he put his guitar back in its folder “I- uh, I have just one more month until I know if I’m in the debut group.”
You widened your eyes at the information, a warm feeling in your belly “Hee… that’s amazing.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
Like the habit of a lifetime, his arms held your waist, his face burying in the crook of your neck.
“We might have less time together,” He murmured, his nose brushing your jaw, the sensation causing goosebumps to prickle your skin.
“We’ll figure it out, yeah?” You said, holding his face in your hands “I’m so proud of you, baby.”
Your words caused a childlike smile to spread on his lips, and just a couple of seconds later, they crashed on yours.
You drowned in the feeling of him, so sweet and intoxicating.
“I love you.” Heeseung repeated those three words like a mantra “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” You replied, being so close to him even if it didn’t feel close enough “I always will.”
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The café had always been your place. The corner table by the window where sunlight streamed in during the mornings and rain traced delicate patterns on the glass during stormy afternoons. It was where you and Heeseung had spent countless hours together—talking, laughing, and dreaming of a future that now felt so far away.
It hadn’t changed. The same rustic charm, the same scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries, the same corner table by the window. You almost smiled as you stepped inside, but the weight in your chest reminded you why you were here.
The café hadn’t changed, but today, the warmth of those memories was overshadowed by the tension that hung between you like a storm cloud, ready to burst. Just like the one outside.
Heeseung was already waiting, his tall frame hunched slightly over his coffee. His fingers fidgeted with the rim of the cup, a nervous habit you recognized instantly. He didn’t look up when the bell over the door chimed. You wondered if he was gathering his thoughts just as you were.
For a moment, you stood frozen, debating whether to walk back out and pretend you hadn’t come. Pretend nothing was wrong and it was all just a bad dream.
That you’d wake up in his arms again, with his messy hair and soothing voice, reminding you how fortunate he was to have someone like you.
But then his head lifted, and his eyes found yours. A small, uncertain smile tugged at his lips, and despite everything, it made your heart ache.
“Hey,” he greeted as you approached, his voice soft but strained.
“Hi,” you replied, sliding into the seat across from him.
Up close, you noticed how tired he looked. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually bright demeanor seemed dimmed, weighed down by the invisible tension between you. You wondered if you looked the same.
Heeseung shifted in his seat, his fingers still fidgeting. “Thanks for coming,” he said after a moment.
You nodded, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen this coming. The late-night texts that dwindled into silence. The calls that went unanswered. The months of trying to hold on, even as the cracks in your relationship grew deeper.
“How’s… everything?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted the answer.
Heeseung hesitated, his gaze dropping. “Busy,” he admitted. “Rehearsals, schedules… you know how it is.”
Yes, because Heeseung had managed to debut, and his group had a large audience, growing famous even overseas. It was a surprise he came in a public place, without something to cover himself with.
You nodded again, the lump in your throat growing. Of course, you knew. His career had always been demanding, and you’d tried so hard to understand, to support him even when it meant putting your own needs aside.
But you were tired. Tired of being a second choice, tired of all the dates where he stood you up, all the excuses.
You needed stability in your life, and Heeseung couldn’t give you that. Not anymore.
“I missed you.” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.
Your breath hitched. “I missed you too.”
You tried to focus on the rain outside, but the sound of his quiet sigh brought your attention back to him. His usually bright eyes were clouded, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on both of you.
“This isn’t how I thought it would go,” his voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if speaking the words aloud might make them more real.
You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around your cup. “Neither did I,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
The truth was, you had both tried—tried to hold on, to make it work despite the endless obstacles. His chaotic schedule, your demanding responsibilities, the miles that always seemed to stretch too far between you. But no matter how much love there was between you, reality had a way of tearing at the seams.
“I feel like I’m failing you,” Heeseung said, his voice trembling slightly. He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of guilt and heartbreak. “Like I can’t give you what you need, no matter how much I want to.”
Your chest tightened at his words. “You’re not failing me,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Heeseung, you’ve always given me everything you could. But maybe… maybe it’s just not enough anymore.”
The admission hung heavy in the air, and you hated yourself for saying it. But it was the truth. Love wasn’t supposed to feel this hard, was it?
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looked tired—tired in a way that went beyond the late nights and endless rehearsals. “I thought love was supposed to be enough,” he murmured, echoing your thoughts.
You wanted to reach out, to take his hand and tell him that it was enough. That he was enough. But deep down, you both knew that wasn’t true.
“It’s not about love,” you said quietly. “It’s about timing. And right now… it feels like the world is against us.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes dropping to the table. “So what are you saying?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
You hesitated, your heart breaking as you forced yourself to say the words. “I’m saying that maybe we need to let each other go.”
His head shot up, his eyes wide and filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “We can figure this out. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? We can keep trying.”
But the desperation in his voice only made it harder. You had been trying for so long, and the effort had left you both exhausted. “Heeseung,” you said softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “What if trying is what’s hurting us?”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Heeseung’s hands tightened into fists, his knuckles turning white. “This isn’t fair,” he said, his voice cracking. “I love you. I love you more than anything, and it’s not fair that we have to end like this.”
You reached out then, your hand covering his. His skin was warm, but the touch felt fleeting, like trying to hold onto sand slipping through your fingers. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But sometimes, love isn’t enough to fix everything. It’s better if we let go.”
Heeseung’s head shook, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “You don’t mean that,” he said, shaking his head.
“I don’t want to mean it,” you said, your voice breaking. “But we’re tearing ourselves apart trying to hold on, Heeseung. And I don’t want us to end up resenting each other because of it.”
His hand tightened around yours, his grip almost desperate. “I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice trembling. “You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded. I don’t know how to do this without you.”
The rain outside grew heavier, the sound filling the empty space between you.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Heeseung said suddenly, his voice thick with emotion. “And the thought of not having you in my life… I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away. “You’ll be okay and so will I,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as him. “And maybe someday… when the timing is right, we’ll find our way back to each other.”
Heeseung let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening around yours. “Someday,” he repeated, though the word felt more like a wish than a promise.
You stayed like that for a moment, holding onto each other as if the world might stop if you let go. But eventually, you pulled away, your heart breaking as you stood.
“I’ll always love you,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the rain.
Heeseung looked up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll always love you too.”
And with that, you turned and walked out into the storm, the sound of the rain mixing with the quiet sobs you could no longer hold back.
You didn’t look back, afraid that if you did, you might never be able to leave. But even as you walked away, you carried him with you—his voice, his laughter, his love.
It wasn’t the ending you wanted. But not all the stories ended happily ever after.
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suunani · 3 months ago
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hello stranger ( jeon wonwoo )
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▍ wonwoo, a shy poet, finds inspiration in the quiet comfort of a bookstore owner.
content : 1500 words, male reader, bookstore!owner!reader, fluff fluff fluff, wonie is a cutie patootie, requested here.
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the soft hum of the bookstore was a kind of rhythm that underscored your life.
the shuffle of shoes on the old wooden floorboards, the distant murmur of the city outside, the faint rustle of pages being turned — it all blended together, wrapping around you like a favorite worn-in blanket.
it was a sound you’d grown to depend on, a steady companion to the otherwise quiet existence you’d cultivated.
you weren’t lonely ; you loved this life.
owning a bookstore was everything you’d ever wanted. people came and went, browsing your shelves, lost in their thoughts, and then disappeared back into their worlds.
and that was fine. you didn’t need much.
but then there was him.
jeon wonwoo had walked into your shop six months ago, though you could still picture the day as clearly as if it had been yesterday.
it was late afternoon, the sky outside a palette of grays and golds after a rainstorm. the bells over the door had jingled softly, and there he was — his dark hair slightly damp, his glasses fogged, and a scarf hanging loosely around his neck.
he’d paused in the doorway, blinking like he’d stumbled into a secret he wasn’t sure he was meant to find.
“take your time,” you’d said from behind the counter, offering him a polite smile.
wonwoo had nodded, ducking his head as if the weight of your words alone might be too much.
you didn’t think much of it at the time.
customers like him came and went — a little shy, a little unsure but most never lingered.
but he did. it became a habit.
every few days, the bells over the door would jingle, and there he’d be, that same tentative look in his eyes.
at first, he browsed without much of a pattern, drifting between shelves like he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. but eventually, he gravitated toward the poetry section, where he’d settle into one of the small tables tucked into the corner.
it didn’t take long for you to notice the notebook he always carried. he’d sit there for hours, pen in hand, scribbling furiously onto the pages.
sometimes he’d pause, his lips moving silently as if trying out words in his head, before crossing something out and starting again.
you didn’t ask what he was writing.
it wasn’t your business, and besides, you figured it was probably something personal — perhaps class notes or sketches of ideas for some creative project.
but what you didn’t know was that it wasn’t class notes or some generic scribbles in that notebook.
he was writing about you.
wonwoo hadn’t meant for it to happen.
when he first started coming to the shop, he’d been drawn in by its quiet charm and your gentle, unobtrusive presence.
you were a fixture of the place, sitting behind the counter with a book in hand or meticulously organizing the shelves. but somewhere along the way, he found himself looking at you more than the books.
it wasn’t just your calm demeanor or the way the sunlight hit your features in the late afternoons — it was something way deeper.
something about the way you seemed so comfortable in the silence, so at ease in a world that always felt too chaotic to him.
the first time he wrote about you, it was unintentional.
he’d been jotting down thoughts for a poem and realized halfway through that every line seemed to trace back to you.
he’d been mortified, at first, but the words kept coming.
so he kept writing.
every visit to the bookstore became a way to be near you, to soak in the steady calm you seemed to carry with you.
and though he wanted to say something, anything, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“wonwoo,” you’d said one day, surprising him as he passed the counter on his way to his usual table.
he’d blinked, startled that you knew his name.
“you left your receipt in a book last week,” you explained, holding up the slip of paper with his name neatly printed at the top.
“oh,” he said softly, adjusting his glasses. “thanks.”
he’d ducked his head, muttering a quiet apology as he took the paper from you and shuffled to the back of the shop.
after that, though, you made a habit of greeting him by name.
“hey, wonwoo,” you’d say as he walked in, and he’d always respond with a polite nod and a soft smile.
you’d exchange a few words here and there — nothing major, just small pleasantries — but he always seemed a little nervous, a little unsure of himself.
still, you’d noticed the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t looking.
it wasn’t until today that things shifted.
wonwoo had been sitting in his usual spot for over an hour, his head bent over his notebook.
from your perch behind the counter, you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his pen moved furiously across the page.
he seemed different — nervous, almost agitated.
you tried not to stare, but something about his energy pulled at your curiosity. he kept glancing up at you, quickly looking away whenever your eyes met.
finally, you couldn’t resist.
you wandered over to the poetry section, pretending to straighten a few books.
when you were close enough, you spoke, keeping your voice light. “working on something?”
wonwoo startled so hard his pen skidded across the page. he looked up at you with wide eyes, his face immediately flushing red. “oh, uh… yeah. kind of.”
“kind of?” you teased gently, leaning against the shelf. “you’ve been scribbling away in that notebook for months. it must be something important.”
he hesitated, his fingers twitching nervously against the edges of the notebook.
“it’s nothing special,” he mumbled, closing it quickly and holding it protectively against his chest.
“you sure?” you asked, taking a step closer. “it seems like it means a lot to you.”
wonwoo swallowed hard, his cheeks darkening.
he stood abruptly, clutching the notebook like it was a lifeline.
“i should go.”
there was something in his voice — nervous, maybe even a little embarrassed that stopped you.
“wait,” you said softly, the word slipping out before you could think.
he froze mid-step, his back to you.
“you don’t have to tell me,” you said gently, looking at his back. “but… you don’t have to leave, either. you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
for a long moment, he didn’t move.
then, slowly, he turned to face you. his expression was guarded, but there was a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes.
“i was writing poetry,” he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.
“poetry?”
he nodded, his fingers tightening around the notebook.
“it’s not… it’s not very good. i’m still figuring it out.”
“everyone starts somewhere,” you said gently. “what’s it about?”
he hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip.
“it’s…about you,” he whispered, barely audible.
your breath hitched. about me ?
wonwoo’s hand shook slightly as he held out the notebook, his fingers reluctant to let it go. carefully, you took the notebook from him, as if it were something fragile, your fingers brushing his.
opening it, you found a page filled with messy handwriting, words scratched out and rewritten in the margins. the poem wasn’t perfect, but it was raw and honest in a way that caught you off guard.
the poems were beautiful. they captured the smallest details — the way sunlight fell across your face when you stood behind the counter, golden and soft. your hands, the way they moved over books with care, like they were something sacred. the sound of your voice as you greeted customers. the quiet grace with which you moved through the store.
as you read, you realized the poems weren’t just about you, they were about seeing you. noticing the little things no one else did.
your chest tightened.
slowly, you looked up, finding wonwoo watching you nervously, his lips pressed tightly together.
“this is… about me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
he nodded, his face flushing a deep shade of red. he stuffed his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunching as if he were bracing for rejection.
“i know it’s weird. i just… you’re just… i don’t know. you’re here, and you’re… yeah, i don’t really know how to explain it.”
he was rambling now, his words tumbling over each other in his rush to fill the silence.
“wonwoo.”
he stopped, his eyes meeting yours.
“it’s beautiful. really.” you said, meaning every word.
his lips parted in surprise. “you… you think so?”
“i do,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “you have a way with words.”
for a long moment, neither of you spoke.
the bookstore seemed to hold its breath, the quiet wrapping around you both like a protective cocoon.
“can i read more of it sometime?” you asked finally, your voice gentle.
wonwoo hesitated, then nodded.
“yeah,” he said, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “i’d like that.”
you handed the notebook back to him, your fingers lingering against his for just a moment.
and just like that, the silence between you didn’t feel so heavy anymore.
it felt like the beginning of something.
something good.
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darlinluxx · 8 days ago
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— 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ౨ৎ
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↳ pairing : natalie scatorccio x feminine!fem!reader
fluff
warnings : alcohol, smoking, reader is a cheerleader, mentions of bad home life
a/n : i’m such a sucker for the opposites attract trope 😭
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- Nat has a tough exterior, but a big heart.
-Nat appears as cynical and hardened, but you know there’s a well of loyalty and vulnerability underneath. it takes a lot of patience (and maybe a few beers) to crack the surface
- she bristles at being told what to do or how to feel. gift her a beautifully planned, romantic day? she’s suspicious. take her to a shitty bar late at night? she’s putty in your hands
- Nat notices everything, even when she seems completely checked out. she remembers small details you’ve mentioned in passing and brings them up weeks later
- she’s fiercely loyal to those she cares about. if anyone even looks at you wrong, Nat’s ready to fight someone
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- everyone, especially your friends, was surprised when you started dating Nat. you’re so different, it shouldn’t work but it does
- dinner reservations? your domain. impromptu road trip to a questionable music festival? that’s Nat’s idea. compromise is key
- you help ground Nat and bring some stability to her chaotic world. she pushes you outside of your comfort zone and shows you a different side of life
- let’s just say Nat isn’t the best at expressing her feelings. you’ve learned to read between the lines, but sometimes it’s exhausting
- she is a softie when it comes to you, she would never admit it, but she would do anything for you
- you met Nat at a party you were throwing. she looked completely out of place, like a stray cat at a dog show
- you were drawn to her immediately. everyone else was bubbly and full of energy, and she was the exact opposite. that’s what drew you in. plus, that little smirk she wore was incredibly intriguing
- you offered her a drink, a beer you stole from your older sibling’s stash. she raised an eyebrow, took it, and downed half of it in one go. you were hooked
- you’re all about pastel colors, perfect nails, perfect makeup and hair, and cheerleading practice. Nat wears ripped jeans, leather jackets, and spent her afternoons skipping class to hang out behind the school smoking cigarettes
- your friends did not understand. “why her?” they’d ask, with a mix of genuine curiosity and thinly veiled judgment. you just shrugged. you couldn’t explain it
- you were one of the few people who saw past Nat’s tough exterior. you knew she’s incredibly intelligent, fiercely loyal, and surprisingly sensitive
- you learn that her sarcasm was often a defense mechanism, a way to keep people at arm’s length. you worked to earn her trust, brick by brick
- it wasn’t always easy. there were walls, secrets, and unpredictable mood swings. but the glimpse of vulnerability you caught made it all worthwhile
- small gestures were huge with Nat. she wasn’t big on grand romantic declarations, but she leaves you mixtapes with your favorite songs on it, or silently hold your hand when you’re feeling down
- she probably writes you poetry, but it’s all hidden in a dusty old notebook
- like i said, she’s soo protective. guys who try to flirt with you suddenly found themselves on the receiving end of Nat’s icy glare and a string of creatively crafted insults
- she gets you your favorite flowers
- public displays of affection are rare, but when they happened, they were electric. a stolen kiss in a crowded hallway of your school, her hand grazing your back as you walked by
- you know about Nat’s turbulent home life—the absent parents, the general instability. you know she had to be so independent because she has no one else
- you’re a safe place for her. a place where she doesn’t have to be tough, where she can let her guard down, even just for a little bit. your parents occasionally take her in for the night, offering her a hot meal and a warm bed
- you know you can’t fix her problems. but you can be there for her, to listen, to support her, and to remind her that she isn’t alone
- Nat secretly loves watching you practice for cheer. she tells you to pick a sport that was less girly. you think it was funny that she was acting annoyed
- you know she’s good at soccer, amazing even. she’s quiet about it, but she has that look of determination and a competitive drive she tries to hide
- you go to every one of her games, cheering her on from the sidelines. omg wearing her jersey……….
- she pretended to be annoyed when she first saw you wearing her jersey, but you caught her smiling
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glowettee · 23 days ago
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the secret to taking notes that make you want to study ✧˖°
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hey lovelies! mindy heree <3
for this post i'm superrr excited to share a guide on taking notes that make you want to study ✧˖° trust me, i know how overwhelming it can get when it feels like you're stuck in the middle of endless textbooks and dry lecture slides (honestly, we all have those days). so, let's transform your note taking into something delightful, empowering, and totally reflective of your unique self.
✧ finding your vibe first things first, bestie: the key here is to make your notes feel personal and inspiring. rather than sticking to a rigid system, i suggest mixing a little structure with a whole lot of creativity. here are some steps to help you set up your perfect note taking vibe:
choose your medium: even if it’s a cute pastel notebook, sticky notes, or a digital app with fun themes, pick something that sparks joy and invites you to open it up. i personally love notion + remnote + coda
establish sections: break your notes into clear sections. introduction, main points, and summary. this not only boosts organization but also gives you a gratifying sense of progress every time you finish a page.
add your signature touch: doodles, small illustrations, or even a decorative border can make a note feel less like a chore and more like a mini art project. i love using aesthetic symbols for my digital notes <3
✧ creating a study ritual i believe that great notes come from a relaxed and focused mind. try integrating these rituals into your study sessions to set a positive tone, this is really important if you want to make note-taking fun:
begin with a short breathing exercise or a moment of gratitude (think of it as your pre-study pep talk).
play some light instrumental music or your favorite lo-fi beats, or playlist. something to keep your mind in a creative zone without distractions. (i have a great playlist i made that i use for tackling assignments here: 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀, 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀! <3)
grab your favorite beverage (i’m a fan of herbal tea or a cute iced coffee) and make sure you're comfortable. a little self-care goes a long way!
✧ structuring your notes for clarity a well-organized layout makes reviewing notes less daunting and more interactive. and obviously so much more fun, consider using this format for a balanced + demureee approach:
start with a title and date: it grounds your notes and gives you a quick reference.
write a brief summary of the topic: in your own words, capture the essence of what you’re about to learn. just summarize it as best as possible
list key points: use bullet points, numbered lists, or even headers for different subtopics. tip: use cute symbols for bullet points
highlight examples: it can be a quote, a definition, or an application concept, mark these with a star or a cute icon.
close with a reflection: jot down any questions, what you found most interesting, or even a mini action item related to the topic. this is your space for self-talk and reflection.
✧ turning notes into interactive canvases (cause we need it) notes aren’t meant to be static pages floating in an endless binder. make them interactive to truly boost your study sessions:
include thought-provoking questions: ask yourself things like “what would elle woods do?” (lol, we love her <3) or “how does this connect with real life?” to spark critical thinking.
add mini quizzes: at the end of each section, write one or two questions that challenge you to recall key points.
leave room for updates: as you learn more, come back and add extra notes, doodles, or even inspirational stickers (yes, just like in a scrapbook!).
✧ personal tips from mindy because i want you to shine in every note you take, here are my totally secret, fun tips to elevate your note routine:
secret tip #1: color with purpose choose a color palette that not only looks cute but also maps out different themes in your subject. use one color for definitions, another for examples, and maybe a sparkly tone for key takeaways. over time, these colors will trigger your memory (i promise, it really works!).
secret tip #2: integrate affirmations studying can be stressful sometimes, so why not lace your notes with a few tender affirmations? write a quick pep talk (like “i got this, bestie” or “every detail counts”) in a corner. it might seem small, but these little lines can boost your confidence when you need it most. and it's just so freaking cute <3 affirmations from you to you, is like a love letter to yourself, so just try it
secret tip #3: try mind mapping if you’re more of a visual learner, create mind maps instead of linear notes. start with the main topic in the center and branch out with related ideas and details. this not only makes your notes dynamic but also helps you see connections between concepts (ever notice how some subjects just click with a visual flow?).
secret tip #4: use digital tools creatively if you’re leaning towards digital note taking, like me, experiment with apps that support drawing, voice notes, and even embedded links. add images that resonate with the topic or short videos for a quick concept refresher. making your digital notebook interactive can really keep boredom at bay.
secret tip #5: schedule weekly note reviews set aside a bit of time every week to revisit your notes. treat it as a mini self-study session where you update, add reflections, or even reorganize sections for clarity. this habit not only reinforces your learning but also lets you see your own progress over time, like looking back on how far you’ve come.
✧ action items for the week (it's homework timeee) to wrap things up, here are a few steps to try:
pick one class or topic this week and redo your notes using one or two of these tips (maybe add a mind map or a quick quiz).
experiment with color coding: choose colors that resonate with you and assign them to key points or sections.
schedule a 10-minute review session at the end of the week to refresh and reflect on your notes.
share your progress with a friend or even a study group to celebrate little victories. accountability can boost your motivation!
note: note taking is a creative process that should feel as refreshing and inspiring as a new day. keep experimenting until you find what truly works for you. i hope these tips help you get excited about every page you write on.
xoxo, mindy
I made this amazzinggg playlist (as mentioned earlier in the post) and its specifically made to help you complete homework + assignments. i curated it to make sure its soft music to help you focus <3 love from mindyyy 🩷
don't forget, if you need personal advice, submit it here and i'll answer it as a detailed tumblr blog post <3: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline
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225 notes · View notes
scoupsakakitty · 3 months ago
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Why do you Love | idol!Hongjoong x reader | fluff
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Inspired by Hongjoong’s Song
The studio was quiet. Hongjoong sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, his fingers resting on the edge of a notebook filled with scrawled lyrics and crossed-out ideas. The room smelled like coffee and faint traces of his cologne, the scent you’d come to associate with late nights spent here, wrapped in his world of music and endless creativity.
You were sitting on the worn couch behind him, knees pulled to your chest, your book abandoned beside you. Your eyes were fixed on him, his concentrated expression, the furrow of his brows as he silently mouthed words to himself. He didn’t notice your gaze—not yet.
Hongjoong had been like this all week: distant, introspective, buried deep in something he hadn’t fully shared with you. You understood; it was part of loving him, part of knowing him. Still, tonight something felt… different.
“Y/N,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet. He turned in his chair to face you, his pen spinning absently between his fingers.
“Yeah?” you replied softly, setting your feet on the ground.
He hesitated, searching for the words. “Why do you love me?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. You blinked, caught off guard, but the look in his eyes was sincere. Vulnerable.
“Where is this coming from?” you asked, tilting your head.
Hongjoong gave a small, half-hearted shrug. “I’ve been thinking about it. Writing about it. I just… I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve it.”
You stared at him, the weight of his confession settling over you. “Joong…”
He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked away. “I’m serious. I’m not the easiest person to be with, you know that. I spend more time here than with you. I get so lost in my head that I forget… everything else. And yet, you’re still here.”
You stood and crossed the room, kneeling in front of him so that you were at eye level. “I’m still here because I want to be,” you said firmly.
His eyes softened, but the doubt lingered there, flickering like a shadow.
“You’re hard on yourself, Hongjoong. But you don’t see what I see,” you continued. “I see someone who pours his entire soul into everything he does. Someone who cares so much it hurts. You’ve got this fire in you, Joong, and it’s impossible not to love you for it.”
He watched you, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“And yeah, you get lost in your head,” you added with a small laugh. “But I don’t mind. I like being the one who brings you back.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The song playing in the background shifted, soft piano chords filling the space.
Hongjoong reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before holding your hand in his. “You make it sound so easy,” he murmured.
“Because it is,” you said simply.
His lips quirked into a small, genuine smile—the kind that reached his eyes and made your chest ache. “You’re one of a kind, Y/N.”
You grinned, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. “Takes one to know one.”
He laughed softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For loving me,” he said. “Even when I don’t understand why.”
You tilted your head, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “I’ll remind you as many times as you need.”
Hongjoong closed his eyes, letting the moment settle between you. And for the first time in days, he felt lighter, the weight of his doubts lifting with every word you’d spoken.
In his mind, a new lyric began to form, soft and bittersweet, but for now, he let it rest. Tonight, the music could wait.
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361 notes · View notes
plumbieyt · 2 months ago
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Planting Plums Legacy Challenge by Plumbie and The Plum Family
Do you enjoy wholesome family gameplay, storytelling and the cosy side of The Sims 4? If so, the Planting Plums Legacy Challenge is for you.
My Inspiration For the Challenge:
My favourite aspect of The Sims is the family gameplay and all the stories that can arise from it. I love using the game as a vessel for telling stories, with that in mind, I thought I would create a legacy challenge built around all my favourite things in the game.
Each generation will have a focus on cosy and wholesome gameplay, primarily focusing on big families, but this doesn’t mean it will shy away from drama. It wouldn’t be realistic if I weren’t to include some sort of tension, so in each generation there will be conflicts but they will be mild and used in order to add depth to the family.
What Makes it Different:
One thing that separates this legacy challenge from the usual one is that I’ll be writing it one generation at a time. I’m doing this because I want to build this legacy with my community (the Plum family) on YouTube so that the Sims and stories will be a joint effort, making it a unique legacy due to the many inputs. It also means the story will grow organically, as it won’t necessarily be planned. This doesn’t mean you can’t take part in this legacy until we’ve reached the final generation because I’ve created the first generation, and we can play alongside as we grow the legacy.
The goal for this legacy challenge is to create a beautiful family that you’ll fall in love with and cherish all the members, even the troublesome ones. If this sounds like something you’d want to be part of, you can always comment, email or DM me your ideas for the legacy, as this is a community effort. So, let’s begin growing the family that will be known as the Plumtrees. 🌱🌸
General Rules & Packs Needed:
There won’t be any rules for this legacy challenge, as I want storytelling to be the focus point of it, but I’d recommend only using cheats if you absolutely need to use them, as sometimes, there is more fun and imagination in the limitations.
As of right now, you’ll need Cottage Living, Seasons and Get to Work. But if you don’t have these packs, feel free to adapt the challenge in your own way so that you can participate. Keep in mind the list of packs needed will grow bigger once the third generation is born.
Generation I: The Plum Seed
Some of your earliest memories were of running around your grandmother’s bakery, helping her bake all sorts of treats. You always said you’d take over her business when you were older, but sadly, when you were a child, she passed away, and your family couldn’t afford to keep the bakery.
As you became older, your passion shifted from baked goods to flowers. You found great comfort in creating all sorts of bouquets and writing down the different varieties of flowers, as they gave you the purpose you lost after your grandmother passed.
Growing up in a city meant nature was scarce; you spent time after school wandering around botanical gardens and finding wildflowers in the concrete, but this wasn’t enough, so the moment you became a young adult, you made the daring decision to move to an old cottage in Henford on Bagley.
Towering buildings and busy streets have been all you’ve ever known, so living in the sticks is going to take some getting used to, but as you stand on the doorstep of a new life, with baskets full of flowers, notebooks, baking ingredients and a dream to open a florist in the heart of the village, you feel that a slip in the mud won’t bother you a single bit.
Aspiration:
Best-selling Author: You want to write nonfiction books about your interest in flowers and bouquets to share your passion with the world.
Traits:
Love the Outdoors
Creative
Ambitious
Hobbies & Skills:
Baking
Gardening
Writing
Career:
Florist & Author: You own a florist business and sell your books.
To-Do's:
Move into a small cottage (it can be in any world, but preferably Henford or a countryside world)
Build from scratch a florist shop
Reach level 10 of the flower-arranging skill
Grow every type of flower in the game (or every flower in your game. For example, if you are missing a pack with a certain flower in it, you don't need to buy the pack just to grow that flower)
Reach level 5 of the writing skill
Write and publish 5 non-fiction books
Complete errands
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shysuccubusstuff · 2 months ago
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Bodyguard! Mr. Scarlatella:
Content: Yandere! Mr. Scarlatella but he is actually human + assassin + farmer! scarlatella; non proof-reading; female anatomy + dubcon/noncon + kidnapping + usage of substances (once for the kidnapping) + mindbreak + lovesick! Mr. Scarlatella; cunnilingus + breeding kink + baby trapping + possessive! dom + overstimulation + orgasm denial + creampie + impregnation + trophy wife! reader (kind of?)
Summary: You never imagined that the guy that was about to end your father's and your life would end up falling head over feels for you, but hey, at least you're alive, right?...
Word count: 4240 words.
Note: I just hate how my brain decides to get dry af as soon as I end with my exams/essays... btw, Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this!! I'm thinking about making a kind of pt. 2 but with Mr. Crawling, let me know if you would want to read it!! It's weird to go back to the more dark stuff when I had started to write less heavy stuff... I feel I may have gotten a bit too creative for his personality, so let me know!!
Note 2: Let me know if any content tag is missing-- I wrote this over a whole week so I may have forgotten some...
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You were the daughter of one of the wealthiest so it was only natural for you to live under the feeling of being targeted by someone, even since you were a child. So when your father presented a new bodyguard for you, it was nothing out of the ordinary, just some new guy who would probably quit by the month (at most). So he arrived, long black hair falling in a cascade and deep purplish pupils that pierced you through his polarised glasses.
"Dear, this is the new bodyguard, I hope you know how to behave yourself, I don't want to keep on complaining to that damn company, they keep saying it's your fault, but it's impossible for it to be solely your fault, I mean, it's been over 10 bodyguards in less than two months... Anyways, I have to leave, Daddy has some work to do." With that, your father left, his expensive cologne lingering in the air as he slammed the door, the new bodyguard still on the entrance of your room, a slightly unsettling smile creeping on his lips as he stood there.
"So you won't even introduce yourself? Seriously, the quality of that damn company is so freaking low... Can't believe they didn't even teach you how to introduce yourself." The man bowed a bit, taking a small notebook and giving it to you. "What the...? So you're saying that you're still learning the language and don't want to mess up? Ugh, ok, whatever. What's your name?" The man with crimson hair refused to speak, stating that he had not received a proper code name yet. "Seriously? Can't even call your name cause they didn't gave it to you, well that's just perfect. Don't bother me, just stand outside or whatever, as if I care." With those last words, the man left, finally leaving you alone in your room. "What the heck is wrong with that dude? I'm gonna complain to that fucking company of security, how am I supposed to trust him when I don't even know his name..."
As time went on, you were slowly able to get to know him, getting to know that he was actually coming from Japan because of some "old acquaintance" he knew since many years ago, that he loved magic tricks and that he was actually quite... cute. It hurt to even think it, but it was true, he was a cute man, always behind you when you allowed him, always running around you with your delicious drink ready and your purse hanging off his shoulder. God, he even learnt how to do your nails, makeup and hair in case you wanted to get it done on the days you were just too lazy to get out of the house... He was even there that night.
You had waken up by around three in the morning, making your way to your door so you could get something to eat in the kitchen, soon noticing that Scarlatella (as you liked to call him in a kind of playful way because of his hair colour) was nowhere to be seen, but hey, he was human as well, maybe he just went to the bathroom or something like that. As you were about to arrive to the kitchen, you noticed that the mansion was a bit too quiet, one would even say that it would have been possible to listen to a pin dropping to the marble ground. Unsettled, you quickly made your way to your father's bedroom, but you soon found out that the bed was completely cold. Now alarmed, you run to his studio, the sound of your feet resonating all over the empty corridor as you forced the door open, soon finding a terrible scene.
It was your father, well, what used to be your father, as his body was already turning cold, his skin turning slightly blue with clear signs of choking. Just as you were about to scream, your vocal cords were unable to produce a sound, your lungs being completely filled with a strange air that made you gasp for hair before you started to feel lightheaded. As you felt your conscience drift, you silently cursed that stupid company and that useless yet slightly charming man.
By the time you woke up, you soon noticed that your whole body was intact, expect for slight marks of rope on your wrists. As soon as you recovered a bit, you took a deep breath, deciding to try and scream to the top of your lungs in case someone could hear you.
"Hey! Someone there? Some crazy jackass has kidnapped me and---!" Suddenly, the heave iron door was opened, a familiar face entering the room.
"Good morning, dearest. I'm so glad you were finally able to open your eyes, you see, it was a bit difficult to get the amount of dose correctly, as I have never tried to keep someone as tiny and beautiful as yourself." Your old bodyguard entered, the heavy door closing behind him as he brought a tray on one of his hands. "Here, I brought you a few things I know you like." You looked at the delicious-looking food, your mouth watering as you saw all your favourite desserts, together with a bunch of your most beloved fruits. Despite the confusion, you tried to keep it together, looking to the other side and refusing to do what he asked. "Dearest, you've been asleep for over t--" Before he could end his sentence, you had already hit the tray with one of your legs, sending the appetizing food.
"Why the fuck are you here? You failed protecting me-- Fuck, you left my father to die, you're lucky I'm tied here cause I would crush your fucking skull with my---" The crimson-haired man got closer, dangerously close, in fact, his warm breath hitting against your face.
"Oh dear, I always knew you had quite the filthy mouth, but you must have been quite shocked to see that pig like that... I understand, I would never stop loving you for something trivial like that... Nor for anything, to be fair." His cold hands touched your face, the callouses in his hands making you frown even more than before.
"Listen fucker---." The man covered your mouth with his much larger hand, the shivers resulted from the cold shifting into goosebumps from the fear.
"Shh, dear. I understand, no need to explain it to me. I will make sure to re-educate you so you can go back to your natural self, that pig tricked your poor mind, but I will be able to fix it for you, see? I’m being such a good man for you, after all, I was supposed to kill you, but I even decided to turn my back to my client and let you live, I even avoided someone to think that you were alive. It was a bit of a hassle, but hey, I would do everything for you, dear.” The man finally got away from your face, taking the tray that had fallen to the ground because of you, together with the food that had been smashed to the ground. “It’s ok, dear. I understand this will take some time, luckily, I have all the time in the world, you just need some… hard love. I’m sure you will start to appreciate my company and care soon enough.” With that, the man smiled one last time to you, leaving the room with the sound of the heavy iron door closing, leaving you in the middle of the dark.
Since that moment, your slow torture started. The man left you in the dark for who knows how long, covering your eyes with a soft cloth, only taking out when he was around so he could start to… kind of associate him with the light, you supposed. He kept bringing you scrumptious plates, from your favourite foods to exotic ones. Of course, that was until the… maybe over tenth time you had throw his tray to the ground. That time, he simply took the tray, taking once again all the food on the floor and leaving in complete silence. The next time you was him was after… maybe one whole day? Your stomach kept rumbling, and what began as anger quickly became desperation, then crying and finally crying while screaming.
By around two months, your mind and body had become completely accustomed to his timetable and behaviour, letting him pet you as you ate what he brought, letting his hands clean your whole body and hair, not even complaining when you felt his hands drift towards your more private parts. Scarlatella looked extremely content with his work, rewarding you with constant praises and even a “pretty” collar for you. Despite it was a clear symbol of your turn into a kind of pet, the collar was beautiful, the gold glistening under the cold light as the beautiful charm with the form of a heart made a small noise of a bell each time you moved.
“Do you like it? I wanted something to congratulate you, after all, you have finally graduated. You are now back to your natural self.” You nodded, letting your head fall on his lap as he kept petting you. “I was thinking about giving you whatever you want, you can just ask.” He waited patiently until you were able to think about something other than the warmth that was coming from his body.
“…Freedom. I want to leave this room, please.” His eyes widened a bit, perhaps surprised that you were still able to think about your freedom.
“Dear, I know this can get suffocating, but you must stay here, it’s for your sa—”
“Please! I can feel my mind… slipping. This is getting worse each day, I… I don’t want do it, but the constant darkness is making me… think about… Just give me a bigger place, I don’t need something as fancy as my house, just something bigger than this room.” Scarlatella looked at you with a puzzled expression, his hand still massaging your scalp as he thought. Finally, he answered, not before letting a deep sigh.
“I suppose that’s fine. I can think of a story to explain your sudden appearance. Give me a few days so I can get everything ready, yeah? Promise I will do it.” As soon as he said that, he got up from the sofa that was in the room, quickly leaving the place before you were able to beg him to keep his promise.
Contrary to what you believed, Scarlatella kept his promise, coming back with a small suitcase and some clothes for you to change yourself, taking your hand as he made you walk with your eyes covered by that well-known cloth. When you were finally told to take it off, you were in the middle of a beautiful flower field. All the flowers were spider lilies, making it seem as if it was some kind of blood-filled battlefield.
“Do you like it, dear? I had to pay some money so they could build this house, together with planting these flowers.” He kept his grip around your wrist tight, not hurting you, but not letting go either. As he opened the door, you finally saw the house. It was a beautiful villa, completely decorated with cottage-like furniture.
“Yes, I like it.” Scarlatella smiled, a strange sheen in his gaze.
Soon, you realised why was he looking at you like that. You had fallen completely into his plan for turning you into his wife. He had created some complex story about you being his wife for over eight years, having to separate because you had been taking care of your sick father while he worked to the bone to get you as much as he could for the moment you came back to him. Everyone in the small hometown believed him, after all, he had been working there as farmer for quite some time, using it as a mere disguise so he could plan every little detail, creating a perfect façade so everyone would simply nod and smile to whatever he said. After that, your role became the one of a housewife, making you bake, cook, and clean, keeping the house warm and tidy by the time he arrived back home.
Soon, the days started to melt together, and your deep engraved hatred for him turned into a less bitter resentment. After all, he was the one that was providing for you, keeping you all warm and cozy while buying every single thing you asked him for, never doing anything that could hurt you. Slowly but surely, your mind started to reshape once again, now seeing him as a still intimidating, yet protecting figure. With that, it was finally the perfect ground for Scarlatella to create his perfect little wife.
Since that moment, Scarlatella started to become more physical with you, helping you around with all the cooking, “accidentally” rubbing his groin against your ass while he pretended to search for something on the top shelf. Not only that, but he made sure you could see him as a capable man, carrying the animals over his shoulder with ease, other times he was simply fixing stuff around the place. But the last moment he needed for your brain to start to see him as a possible partner was when you found him around town playing with the small children from the orphanage. He was surrounded by all of them, lifting them around and making them fly across the hair, his relaxed smile plastered on his face as he tried to make them control themselves as they waited their turn. Your eyes widened a bit, surprised to see him in such a… casual scene. So when he got back home, his working shirt slightly drenched because of the sudden rain that had started quite recently. The shirt was getting clung on his body, making his lean and muscular body stand out even further.
“Hey dear, how was your day? I hope it went great. Sorry I’m late, can’t believe I got caught in the middle of the rain while I was finishing some errands…” As he said that, he made his way around the kitchen, taking off his shirt and leaving it hanging on one of the chairs, surrounding your smaller frame with his arms. “I missed you so much, dear.” You tried your hardest to pretend not to notice, but of course you did, fuck, his groin was rubbing against your ass, and even then, it was clear that he was quite… gifted, down there. Still, you simply tightened the grip on the knife, biting your lips as you kept trying to focus on the food you were cooking.
Ever since that moment, you were no longer able to control yourself, always orbiting around him with your hand tightly wrapped around his arm every single time any other persons started to look way too affectionately at him. Scarlatella quickly noticed this, looking completely pleased with how he had been able to fix your precious little brain into a loving wife. In fact, he even started to pamper you even further, kissing your forehead every morning, asking you to let him shower together… Of course, you said yes.
So then, the two of you entered the bathroom, slowly undressing each other as the water started to warm up. “Love, you look so nice like this… All naked for me… I could just eat you up.” His hand drifted around your body, making your body shiver under his hands, and even if you were about to kiss him, he got away, extending his hand so he could help you get inside the bathtub. “Let me help you, dear.”
As the two of you finally entered the bathtub, he calmly traced your body with the sponge, making sure to scrub your skin without causing any type of harm. Then, he moved to your hair, taking the bottle of shampoo and scrubbing it while he hummed a little tune. Then, he focused on himself, redoing everything he had done to you. As he did that, your naked bodies kept pressing against each other, making you squirm at the slightest touch and forcing you to let small whimpers out every time you felt his lower half rub against your back. Finally, Scarlatella lost his composure as you kept pressing against him on purpose. “Dear… I have a feeling that you’ve been quite, eager to make our relationship more physical, am I right?” His eyes were now fixated on your face, making you feel even more flustered as you avoided his gaze. “Oh sweetheart, if you wanted that, I could have given it to you any time, after all, I do believe it is time we get to expand our little family.” And despite you would have normally shivered in disgust, this idea now started to charm you. So you nodded, accepting whatever he wanted you to do at that point. “Then we should get to business, let me get you ready love.” With that said, Scarlatella finally kissing your lips, his tongue entering your oral cavity as if he had been starving for a long time. “You taste so good… I could stay like this forever.” Scarlatella kept kissing you, his hands starting to glide towards your chest, starting to play with your nipples as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. “Dear… I think we should move to our bedroom; I don’t want your first time to hurt.”
“Oh, that’s fine, not like it’s my first time, you know, I did it a few times before you became my-.” Before you were able to finish your sentence, Scarlatella was already getting the two of you out of the bath, lifting you up and carrying you over to the bedroom he had been preparing for quite some time. Despite his gaze looked a bit crazed out, he let you down softly on the bed.
“It seems I was a bit too gentle with you, that was my fault. I suppose you must prefer someone meaner, treat you as if you were a little fuck toy, I suppose your brain is still not that adapted to having a husband, that’s ok, I will fix it.” With nothing left to say to you, he got on top of you, towering over your smaller body as he started to kiss your neck. “I just wish I could have arrived earlier… Get to be your first, let you make me yours…It’s a shame we had to meet under those circumstances.”  And even regardless his almost apologising words, his actions were crude, clearly showing his uncontrollable desire to make you completely his. “… I should definitely get you pregnant, make sure everyone knows who your husband is, let’s see if any other fucker tries to get with my sweet wife.” As he kept mumbling to himself, his lips started to make a trail towards your chest, moving even further down as your moans got louder. Suddenly, he got away from you for a second, taking something from the small nightstand. Still quiet, he opened the small bottle, letting the sticky liquid help him prepare your pussy for him. “Not like you will need it, apparently you were more prepared than me.”
“Come on, it’s not like we are… fuck, I don’t know, it’s just, it’s not like you are a virgin, right? There’s no need for---”
“I am.” His hands stopped for a second, his fingers a few inches away from entering you. “I’ve been investigating so I could make it as comfortable for you as possible, but that’s ok, I will make sure our next time is perfect… Let’s just use this time for letting you know how this works.” Without further due, Scarlatella started to tease your entrance, rubbing his fingertips against your entrance, while his other hand started to move towards your weak spot, starting to tease your clit as he kept kissing your neck. As the minutes went on, you started to notice a weird warmth inside your cunt, making your tears swell up in your eyes as Scarlatella kept teasing you.
“Stop— Can’t—It feels weird, like really weird, it’s not normal!” Scarlatella smiled wickedly, his eyes darkening as he saw how your pussy kept releasing your sticky fluids, with no shame, he got his face closer, starting to leave kitty licks over your clit before he began to fuck your entrance with his tongue, making you cry due to the overstimulation as he kept stopping just before you could release. This torture kept going for a couple minutes, making you clench the sheets, biting your lips as you kept mumbling barely understandable words: “Please, please… Just—Please! Fuck, please, let me cum, please, please…” Your words kept slurring, making him smile at the beautiful portrait he had been able to turn your gorgeous face into, he caressed your face with one of his hands, his lips still curved into an amused look as your face had become a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva. Suddenly, you felt Scarlatella’s arms wrap around you, lifting you from the bed and letting you lay on his lap, his unclothed erection rubbing against your clit, rocking your body back and forth as he kept taunting you.
“I just can’t believe you preferred some random person over me, love. I’ve waiting for you my whole life, I even learnt all this… tricks to get you to feel as good as possible.” All of sudden, his tip went in, barely letting you get ready as he kept pushing it inside and out, making your eyes water as he kept tormenting you for a few minutes more, his gaze becoming more and more obscure as his erection just kept growing. “Fuck, whatever… I’ll just have to prove you that nobody will ever fuck you like I can, get you pregnant so you can only see me… love me…” His eyes lightened for a second just from the thought, and before you even noticed, your back was once again pressed against the mattress, with Scarlatella towering over you as he was finally able to gradually introduce his whole length, the stretch making you whine and cling to his back. “You feel so good around me, love… Just wait, I’ll fill you up, fill your pretty pussy with my cum so nobody ever tries to get too close to you—You’ll look so pretty with your tummy all round—” As Scarlatella’s hips started to punish your sore cunt, you were finally able to cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs locked around him, as a poor attempt on getting him to stop for a second.
“Wait—Too soon, I can’t get pregnant yet!” You pushed a bit against his lower abdomen, your hands barely stopping him as they kept shaking because of the constant orgasms that just kept pilling up, forcing your brain to become more and more fuzzy each time. It was then that Scarlatella wrapped his own hands around your waists, using them as mere handles for him to push the tip of his cock just a bit further, just enough for you to cum once more with a pathetic whine. Despite you had already cum all over him, Scarlatella’s thrusts didn’t slow down, if not growing stronger as his mind was already too far gone.
“Gotta get you pregnant—That’s all I need—Fill your pretty pussy with my cock and get you to- Fuck- cream all over my cock, that’s it baby… Cum all over your husband, make a mess on my cock, you’re doing so good love…” His words kept resonating in your mind, almost as if it was some kind of chant, and despite you tried your best to endure it, your brain gave up, after all, Scarlatella had been taking care of you so nicely… It wouldn’t hurt to let him keep doing it for the rest of his life… right? As Scarlatella kept muttering to himself, his cock was already twitching, signifying just how close he was to releasing his essence inside of you. With your mind now completely broken, you smiled, your arms and legs tightening around his waist as his cock kept hammering against your cervix, one of his hands carefully pressing against the lower half of your abdomen, causing the pleasure to just build up even further as he finally released his load inside of you, his constant groans now turning into soft praises and kisses. “You did so good, love… Let me take care of everything from now on, I will make you the happiest wife ever, no need to think about anything, just promise to tell me everything you need or want, yeah? I’ll be the best husband int the world.” His hands kept petting your hair as his cock started to deflate inside you, still remaining inside as he refused to pull out in case some of his essence spilled out. “Let’s wait a bit, love. I will prepare the bath in few minutes; I just want to make sure everything goes correctly.” He peppered a few kisses all over your face, his hand rubbing your tummy as he kept imagining that near future he had been longing for.
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bloomzone · 1 month ago
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2025 : #16 journal journal journal : all u need guide
By : a journaling addict girlie
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Journaling is a tool for self-discovery mindfulness and creativity too But while many of us start with enthusiasm turning journaling into a consistent habit can feel like a battle or smthng cuz life gets busy u lose motivation and before you know it your journal is gathering dust
so !
This guide will help you build a sustainable journaling practice. Whether you’re a beginner or someone looking to rekindle the habit these practical tips will make journaling an effortless part of your daily routine.
how I found out abt journaling(storytime box)
[I used to feel like my world was tiny, trapped in a cycle of bullying and loneliness and a loot of stuff My social zone was practically nonexistent I had 2 friends but I didn't trusted them enough and the people around me just made things harder so I had a trust issue and I was constantly overthinking eveeeeerything. My mind was a mess, and I had no way to let it out (I can't tell my parents back then abt my problems) . One day, I came across a video about journaling. I saw someone pouring out their thoughts into a notebook (it was bestmess ig on YouTube ) and something clicked for me. Maybe this could be my way to escape all the noise in my head ??? So, I grabbed an old notebook and started writing.At first, it felt awkward—just random, messy thoughts. But as I kept going, I realized it helped. Writing became my safe space. I could say whatever I wanted, no judgment. It wasn’t just about venting; it helped me understand myself, organize my thoughts, and let go of some of the pain from the isolation.Over time, journaling turned into something much deeper. It became a way to reflect, dream, and grow. It taught me how to be kind to myself when no one else was, and helped me find clarity in the chaos. Journaling saved me it turned my mess into peace one page at a time then when the years roll I created a routine for it !]
Why Journaling Matters
☆ Journaling offers countless benefits:
-Reducing stress
-Boosting creativity
-Deepening self-awareness
☆ Yet, staying consistent can be a challenge. The key lies in making journaling enjoyable and rewarding. Here's how you can do just that.
The Science of Habit Formation
To build any habit, including journaling, you need three elements:
1. Cue: A trigger that reminds you to journal.
2. Routine: The act of journaling itself.
3. Reward: The positive feeling or benefit you experience afterward.
The secret is to keep the process simple and satisfying too
Steps to Turn Journaling into a Daily Habit
1. Start Small
Begin with just a sentence or two for example:
“Today, I felt grateful for…”
“The best part of my day was…”
—Starting small makes it less overwhelming and easier to stick with.
2. Anchor It to an Existing Habit
—Pair journaling with something you already do, like drinking coffee or winding down before bed. This "habit stacking" technique helps u remember to journal.
3. Set a Timer
Worried about time? Commit to just 5 minutes. Knowing there’s a limit makes starting feel less daunting.
4. Use Prompts
Struggling with what to write? Use prompts like:
“What made me smile today?”
“What’s a challenge I faced, and how did I handle it?”
—Prompts give your thoughts direction and beat blank-page syndrome. There's million of prompts idea on Pinterest u need just to take action
5. Celebrate Your Progress
Track your streaks or mark your journaling days on a calendar. Seeing your consistency builds motivation.
6. Create a Cozy Space ( not important )
Set up a comfortable spot for journaling—a comfy chair, your favorite pen, or soothing music. A cozy environment turns journaling into a ritual you look forward to.
7. Experiment with Formats
If traditional journaling feels stale, try something new:
☆ Bullet points
☆ Sketches
☆ Gratitude lists
☆ Digital journaling apps
Creative Ways to Journal
☆ Gratitude Journaling: Write down 3 things you’re grateful for each day.
☆ Habit Tracking: Combine journaling with habit tracking to monitor small goals.
☆ Morning Pages: Inspired by Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, write 3 pages of free-flowing thoughts first thing in the morning.
☆ Reflection Logs: Reflect weekly or monthly on what went well, what you learned, and what you’d like to improve.
Overcoming Common Obstacles
1. “I Don’t Have Time.”
Journaling doesn’t need to take hours. Even a single sentence is progress.
2. “I Don’t Know What to Write.”
Start with prompts or simply answer: “What’s on my mind right now?”
3. “I Keep Forgetting.”
Set phone reminders or pair journaling with a daily habit.
4. “It Doesn’t Feel Useful.”
Journaling isn’t about perfection it’s a tool for you Over time you’ll notice its positive effects.
Journaling as a Tool for Self-Growth
— Journaling isn’t just about recording events or thoughts—it’s also a way to grow mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. Here’s how you can take your journaling practice to the next level:
1. Use Journaling for Goal Setting
Journaling can help you identify and track your goals. Write down your short- and long-term objectives, and use your journal to reflect on progress, challenges, and adjustments.
Example:
☆ Weekly Goals: Write down 3 specific goals every Monday and reflect on them at the end of the week.
☆ Vision Journaling: Imagine your ideal future and describe it in vivid detail.
2. Practice Emotional Awareness
☆ Journaling is a powerful way to process emotions. Try these techniques:
☆ Emotion Check-Ins: At the end of the day, write about how you felt and why.
☆ Reframing Challenges: If something negative happened, write about it from a different perspective.
3. Develop Gratitude and Mindfulness
☆ Use your journal to cultivate mindfulness by focusing on the present moment:
☆ Mindful Observations: Write about your surroundings, the weather, or how your body feels.
☆ Gratitude Expansion: Instead of listing things you’re grateful for, write a short paragraph about why each one matters.
4. Uncover Patterns and Insights
Over time, your journal becomes a mirror of your habits, thoughts, and emotions. Regularly revisit old entries to:
- Identify recurring themes.
- Discover how you’ve grown or changed.
- Spot areas where you might need more balance or self-care.
FAQs
Q: How long does it take to build a journaling habit?
A: Experts say it takes 21–66 days. Consistency is key, even if it’s just a few minutes daily.
Q: Should I write by hand or use a digital tool?
A: Both work! Handwriting feels personal, while digital tools offer organization. ( In my opinion handwriting one are better !)
Q: What if my journaling feels repetitive?
A: Life has routines, and so will your journal. Use prompts or try new styles to keep it fresh.
Q: Can I journal if I’m not a good writer?
A: Absolutely! Journaling is about self-expression, not perfect prose. Bullet points or doodles work too.
Journaling is a gift you give yourself—a way to check in, reflect, and grow. Whether you’re jotting down a single sentence or filling pages, the act of journaling is what matters most.
@bloomzone 📇
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iamyoursonly · 8 months ago
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Childhood Best Friend (16/07/2024)
turns out my bakugo obsession wasn’t over so i’m writing him to feed my delusions because I saw this one line on tumblr and I had to write a whole story about it; i wrote this at 2 AM so it’s not the most creative hehe but bear with me
1.5k words — unedited
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The thought of having a childhood best friend that you can keep in contact with really drives me insane, not in a bad way though, because it’s the kind of friendship that I crave. I have no idea how much time both parties dedicate to each other to maintain a relationship for this long, and I might be jealous of some of my friends because they have this and mine isn’t as ideal as I hope it was.
“Katsu?” My five-year-old self say, “Would you marry me when we grow up?”
The crimson eyed boy looked at me, holding out that ring pop he’s been eating for a while now and basically finished, “If you’ll have me that is.”
According to his mom, I went around kindergarten holding his hand and calling him “my husband katsu” for a while, and he was always around to protect me when kids doubted what I said. He’d beat them up or threaten them with his explosions saying, “You’re all just jealous that you’re not her, but too bad she’s my wife now so piss off.”
I was always around him and he was always around me, we were literally stuck to the bone.
“Katsu, someone told me I was ugly is that true?” I cried in his arms for the first time when I was six, and he rubbed my head and let me cry it out.
“Whoever told you that must have no taste, you’re breathtaking.” He says.
“What does ‘breaktaking’ mean?” I say.
“Breathtaking. It means you’re so pretty you take someone’s breath away.” He smiles, “I’m also beating them up for putting this nonsense in your head. No one messes with my wife.”
“Don’t beat them up though, please?” I look at him, and his rubs my head and nod.
This all disappeared when I had to leave to move away because my parents found a better job. I held onto his hand and begged my parents to let me stay with him and his family, he also begged, claiming he doesn’t want to be apart from “his wife”.
“Don’t forget me, Katsu.” I start sobbing, “I really don’t want to leave.”
“Can’t you stay?” He asks, red staining his eyes because of the crying he has been doing.
“I can’t, they’re not letting me.” I hold his hand harder, “Promise we’ll meet again?”
“Let’s become heroes together. I’ll become number one and you’ll be alongside me.” He squeezes my hand back. “Let’s meet at UA.”
“Promise?” I ask.
“Promise.”
We pinky promised before my parents shoved me into the car and drove away.
“Hit harder, you’re not doing it right!” My coach screams at me. “Okay, take a break you’re not thinking.”
I sit on the ground, stripping off my boxing gear then throwing them to the ground, “Fuck.” How am I going to be good enough to catch up to him? He’s gifted, hardworking and talented. It’s not possible to be on the same level as him without training harder, and I’m not even hitting right…
“I’m done, let me do it again!” I say to my coach, who’s wiping the pads I’ve been hitting. She smiles and signals me to start. I throw I few punches at her, then a few kicks, and some more punches. “That’s the spirit, young lady!” She says as I throw more kicks at her.
“Good work today,” She pats my shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”
I smile at her before packing my bags and leaving, stretching a bit before I take a taxi home to revise for tomorrow morning’s tests. I take out the small notebook I keep in my bag and start memorizing some main points from the book, “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” I whisper.
I manage to get a taxi, I get in and sit down and continue studying. After a while, I look out of the window, slowly rolling down the glass after getting the driver’s permission. Feeling the night air against my face, I start to feel home sick. It’s been ten years since I left Japan, and I’ve been doing everything he would just so I can get in UA. And I miss him so much.
“Congratulations! You’re accepted into UA high school, we’re looking forward to seeing you on our first day!“
I scream at this news before telling my parents and they were overjoyed also. They willingly bought me plane tickets back to Japan and even called Katsuki’s family to have them take care of me for the mean time, in which they agreed to. And all I could think about that night was how happy he would be when he sees me again.
He was not happy, at least I don’t think he is. He has this scowl over his face and he’s gotten so tall and buff since ten years ago.
“You’re that loser girl I hung out with? I literally have no fuckin’ memory of you since you’re so fuckin’ insignificant to me.”
Wow. He’s definitely changed so much.
“Katsu, I kept my promise, I got into UA and now I’m back.” I say.
“So? What do you want me to say? Congrats? Yeah no shit, everyone craves validation when it comes to me.” He says, “Congrats loser, for making the bare minimum to get in like it’s fuckin’ challenging.”
Okay he’s just rude now, where was that sweet old Katsuki I missed. So I just rolled my eyes at him and went to their guest room to settle down. In which Mitsuki welcomed me with a whole party that Katsuki was not happy about.
New school year, new me. I wear my UA uniform, ready for a new school year with more fun and joy every year. Until some weird guy stopped me and Katsuki on our way to school.
“Hey girlie, you look so fine you should be called mine. Wanna go out with me?” He winks, and I cringed at him. Katsuki full on glared at him, looking pissed.
“She doesn’t wanna fuckin’ go out with you, why would she downgrade herself for a fucker like you?” Katsuki grabbed my hand and started leaving.
He told him off for me. He cares.
“Why are you even helping that whore?” That weirdo asked Katsuki, and he glared daggers into him.
“No one can say that to her when I’m around, say that again and you’ll lose your dick.” Katsuki threatens him again and wraps his arms around my waist.
He turns to me, his face so close to mine before he says, “Let’s go.”
Since when was his face so masculine and defined. He definitely had a big glow up because how could one be so breathtaking?
“Katsu.” I say, “What was that for? Thought you hated me.”
“Still do, but only I can degrade you.” He answers.
“Possessive much?” I joke, but I could feel his grip on my waist tighten. So I just shut up and walk with him.
When we got home that day, Mitsuki made us fried chicken and some extra spicy mapo tofu (katsu’s favourite).
“Remember when the two of you got married when you were five? Katsuki gave you his ring pop after you asked him if he’d marry you and he said something like ‘if you’ll have me’? Oh goodness I remember it like it was yesterday.” She chuckled with her husband as Katsuki and I stared at each other awkwardly.
“Shut up you old hag.” Katsuki says, his ears red, “I’m going back to my room.”
Before he leaves the table, he drags me with him and we enter his room before he locks the door.
“So,” He starts, “What now?”
I look at him, “You dragged me in, you tell me.”
“It’s nothing I just needed a break from them.” He shrugged, “It’s not like I’m fuckin’ embarrassed of us or anything.”
There was a moment of loud silence.
“Katsu,” I break the awkwardness, “Can we like start again?”
“Like what, pretend that you never left me?” He says, his tone sounded like he’s hurt.
“I didn’t want to, and you know it.” I look him in the eye, and he keeps the eye contact.
“Missed you so fuckin’ much and now you’re here,” He puts his head on my shoulder, basically whispering into my ear, “I hate how you’re my weak spot and how I can’t properly get over you even though we were basically children.”
“Katsuki, listen.” I hold his face and he’s so close to me I could feel his breath on my face.
“Yeah?” He looks at me, features softening.
“Be my boyfriend, Katsuki.” I murmured softly, “For real this time. I swear the only person I’ve loved is you.”
He laughed out loud, “Thought we were married all along, wifey.”
I hug him tight and he speaks, “Don’t leave me again okay?”
“Promise.” I chuckled, “Also you need to get me another ring, I might have left the ring pop with my family.”
“You silly bitch. You’re lucky I love you.” He gently smacks me.
“And I love you too.” I smile.
…“And now, I pronounce the two of you husband and wife.”
Maybe this childhood best friend thing that I had wasn’t that bad either, seeing how we have two children together right now makes me smile at our memories together as a child. My breathtaking childhood best friend and the pro hero Dynamight that I could call my husband until the end of time.
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tmbgareok · 4 months ago
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Evening Mr. Flansburgh!
I am an aspiring musician! I really want to create my own songs, but since I'm an absolute beginner starting from the ground up, I am soul-crushingly daunted by which skill I should focus on learning first, especially with the amount of resources available to me online (Singing? Lyric writing? Learning a particular instrument? Mixing? Music Theory? etc).
Do you remember what skill(s) you focused on doing first when you were just getting into music, or have any recommendations about the order to do then in?
Much appreciated!
JF: reflecting on it, my experience was extremely organic, slow-evolving and combined so many of my interests and obsessions I am not sure it is necessarily that universal. (For instance I was kinda obsessed with recorded sound before I started writing and recording songs on a tape recorder, which I did for a couple of YEARS before I ever played in front of another human being). So I came to writing songs with some extra skills that actually facilitated my earliest efforts.
An art history professor of mine said "Art is foisting your obsessions on the world" and I think he was right. Another art professor of mine said if you embark on a dozen creative projects, the odds of creating an inspired one greatly increases over simply working on one. I think this is very good advice, and is echoed by a lot of folks writing about the nature of creativity.
If you can't play chords, or move your hands around a keyboard or a fretboard fast enough to play a chord progression, saddle up to a screen with a movie and practice scales so your fingers get stronger. Do it everyday for some time. Then practice toggling back and forth between two chords as quickly as possible. Get a metronome. You know why!
Yes, a song is exactly the confected thing your mentioned in your request--it's a lyric, a melody, a progression, a beat, an evolving musical notion. But those parts are often created at separate times and simply smushed together. It doesn't have to be done in one go, and if the whole enterprise seems odd, or your skill set is underdeveloped in one way or another, assembling a song from the various moving elements might be an easier way to approach it.
(also a couple of days ago someone was asking about singing and I pointed at a few ideas there--essentially taking advantage of these free online vocal warm up videos)
I think you should gather a small clutch of tools--a tape recorder or a DAW that is simple enough to master quickly--there are multitrack recording apps that you can install on your phone that are intuitive. A couple of instruments-a guitar or keyboard, maybe an auto harp.
Find a place to work where you can make noise and not be heard.
I think you should start writing in a physical notebook where you can write down your ideas and revisit them. I wouldn't do it on a computer. It's slow writing, and the screen just creates distractions.
Write a bunch of lyrics without trying to write music: Make one about you but write it like it's about someone else, one about someone else's experience but sing it first person, write one about a group of people. Be positive. Be negative. Be regretful. Be optimistic. Express anger. Be as extreme as you can stand. Experiment in writing in every mode you can think of. Here somebody would write "express your own ideas", but ALL of your ideas will be your own! You are making choices based on musical notions that inspired you, but what comes out of you will almost certainly be different enough, and if it's too close to something else, shimmy it around so it isn't distracting! Write a few chord progressions. (A two chord progression that just sounds interesting going back and forth. A four chord progression. Make a beat, or find a beat online, and write a bass line or just a sequence of single notes on a keyboard or guitar to make a pleasant, evolving line. And see if you can write a "song" or two with a two or four chord verse, and a chorus that is a different chord progression.) Write it down and revisit it! Record it slow. You might want to speed it up later when it's "under your fingers."
Pretty soon you will have all the component of what you need to put lyrics to music. You can also try just singing lyrics over a beat, and then figure out the chords underneath AFTER you have a notion of a melody.
That's enough free advice. Go write some songs!
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thechekhov · 7 months ago
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Hello! I'm a big fan of your work. I wanted to ask for advice / thoughts about an art problem I've been struggling with that you seem to have at least some sort of solution for?
So basically I'm an animator and digital artist (hobbyist), and I'm constantly coming up with new ideas for things to make. Only problem is that most of these ideas would take up to or longer than 2 months to make because, yknow, animation isn't quick, especially if you want to take your time to make it good. But with so many ideas that all take so long to complete, I often find myself tied and frozen as I can't decide what's most worthwhile to start first. I passionately want to complete all these projects, but my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control, and I've just been stuck for several months. You juggle a lot of projects- not all of them art, but it still seems applicable here. This is excluding other life responsibilities like work and stuff, I don't have problems with getting that stuff done. This is purely within my creative hobby.
If u can't say anything thats fine I'm just curious- You have a massive output with great quality. Thank you!
This is a very kind message, and one that humbles me a lot, because although I'd love to bestow upon you some sort of advice that might help, or give words of wisdom..............I feel like that would be fake of me because
I also suffer from this very same thing
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That is to say, this part of your message:
my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control
It rings true for me too! I think it might ring true for many others as well.
There are stories in my head all the time. There are stories, and concepts, and IDEAS and they are all so shiny and new in the beginning, and then they slowly peter out and, since I frequently don't have time to do anything about them, they fade into the background.
I have enough trouble with this in terms of COMICS (also a lengthy medium, though less so than animation, which, OOF, you have my condolences, you are stronger than I) that I have started to just come to terms with the fact that some things are not meant to be.
Which is, I think, one of the small bits of advice I can give.
1. Some things may just be ideas, and that's okay.
I think one of the best ways that I've learned to deal with Idea-Death is making it count towards something in the future. That is to say, using them as compost.
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In order for this to work, you have to actively put your ideas into the compost pin instead of the trash. That means maybe investing in either a notebook, or a sketchbook, OR just a discord server for yourself where you organize ideas and dump them all into a channel to scroll back through later.
It may seem useless at first, but honestly, it can be satisfying to PUT them somewhere instead of letting them fade away.
Plus, you may one day scroll through them and rediscover an idea at just the right time. OR you may be inspired to take parts of an old idea and repurpose it for a new idea that you DO have motivation for.
However, there's also this part, right?
I've just been stuck for several months
I.......feel this. Sometimes I, too, feel stuck for several months. There are times when even if I WANT to work on something, I just don't have the time. It takes too long to finish!
.........which is why I recommend the following:
2. Don't finish. Just start.
Now, this is the toughie. I can't exactly say that it would work for everyone. But I have learned that I am WAY more likely to return to a project and work on it again sometime in the future if I actually DO something for it the first time I get inspired.
I have SO MANY things that I have not published in my folders. I have sketches of gifs that are 10 frames long. I have concept art sketches boldly labeled with project names that will likely never get off the ground. I have Googledoc files with summary and plot outlines for stories I'll probably never write. I have discord channels with random ass concepts and a few sketches for characters.
And what I have found is that if I just WORK on these ideas when I feel like it, they are more likely to survive, even if they don't thrive right away.
I'm also a huge proponent of Procrastination Rotation.
That is to say, I have so many projects I COULD be working on, that if I ever feel frustrated or stuck on one thing, I just shift myself slightly to the left and do another thing instead. I almost never force myself to work through a block (save for a few money-motivated deadlines) just to complete a thing.
Stuck on a comic? I'll go write a few lines of fic. Unsatisfied with where the fic is going?
I'll go sketch out an illustration. Incapable of finishing an illustration?
I'll go google some references for another comic project and slap them all into an image file for later, so that I have SOMETHING in place for when I want to do studies.
And so on and so forth.
I have comic ideas, and comic sketches, and 30+ pages of original comics sketched. I don't know if they'll make it. It would take a lot of work.
But it also takes very little work - just a few extra pages sketched while I'm bored for an hour. Or a bit of lineart while I listen to a podcast. Or just a doodle somewhere which I snap a pic of and add to my discord channel for that project.
Will it work for everyone? Probably not. But I think that our creative culture is sometimes too attached to a linear production style. The truth is that art, or illustrations, or animation, or comics - none of it has to be on an assembly line. It can be tinkered with and put aside. And then, maybe, picked apart for scraps.........or maybe made into something new!
I don't know if that helps you at all, but I hope it at least helps someone.
And good luck with your animating!
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