#the plot bunnies are giving me the itch

[spacealligator]

I'm plagued by grandiose ideas beyond my capacity

(I wanna see my fav ship fucking in so many scenarios but I can't write cause I gotta work and pay bills)

[mapofthesea]

forward!jimin x social media manager!fem!reader

hockey!au

genre: smut, fluff, porn with a hint of plot!

word count: 5.8k

summary: star forward Park Jimin is not only good at the game of hockey, but the game of life. He’s rarely faced with adversity and enjoys the perks of being admired by millions of fans between his sporting and modeling endeavors. To you, he’s nothing but a massive thorn in your side: a reminder of your past life as a puck bunny and your biggest challenge in landing your next promotion. He’s damn lucky he’s handsome.

warnings: arguing, tension from past relationship (they were never Together but they did fuck), swearing, jimin is a smug little shit, jimin with a lip piercing (!!!), hockey talk but no actual game time action, they have Feelings for each other, kind of enemies to lovers but lowkey, specific smut warnings include: penetrative unprotected sex (don’t do this irl!), dom!jimin x sub!reader, slightly bratty reader, degradation (he calls her a slut, she likes it though) and praise, making out/sloppy kissing, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), handjob, hair pulling, hickeys/marking, multiple orgasms, coming inside, slight overstimulation, aftercare ofc

a/n: as always my work is not proof read or edited so there may be some mistakes! Also this is clearly smut so please do not go below the cut if you’re under 18 or uncomfortable with the content noted above. Happy reading!

The warmth of the hotel sheets engulfs you, the expensive feeling silk rubbing gently against your freshly washed skin. You barely know what time it is, but the sleep weighing down your eyelids negates any logic.

An involuntary sigh passes your lips as you feel your spine decompress from the cramped position you had to assume on the plane ride here. Your phone vibrates on the beside table but you skillfully ignore it, snuggling further into the comforter. A sweet lull of sleep starts to envelope you- and then your phone vibrates again. Once, twice, three times, and then the barrage of texts turns into a full blown call, rattling your phone violently.

"Fuck, what?" You yell, throwing the covers off and snatch the phone off of the bedside table. The brightness makes you squint, answering the call without seeing who it is.

"Hello?"

"Oh Thank God, Y/N. I need you to-" the sound of your boss's voice sends anger through your veins. It was his idea for you to travel to this tournament, and now he has the audacity to call you after working hours?

"No, please, Ken. It's late and I'm tired. Whatever the issue is it can wait until the morning."

"It really can't, Y/N. I need you to go talk to Park. Now." You still, heart hammering at the name. You can't imagine what the fuck he would need at this hour, but you're not a babysitter and you certainly aren't giving up your rest for him.

"No, I'm just here to do media for the games. It's not my problem if he needs a handler tonight." Ken sighs and the tension is palpable through the phone line. The silence buzzes through you like a live wire.

"If you don't go talk to him now, your job is gonna be a lot harder than it needs to be in the morning. Please, Y/N. I need someone with boots on the ground to help me. If you get it solved I'll fast track your application for the promotion." Ken's offer hangs over your head. Fuck this capitalist system and the fact that whoever takes the promotion is based more on connection than talent. As much as you despise having to continue to climb the ladder after years of hard work in college and the office, the perks of better health insurance glimmer in your mind.

"Okay, fine. I'm going." Anxiety spikes in your chest as Ken thanks you and hangs up. You vividly remember the last time you were one on one with Park Jimin, and the thought makes your cheeks flame. Suddenly your breezy pajamas feel too warm, and the slightly damp strands of your hair at the nape of your neck itch.

When you started your career in sports media, you never saw yourself working for the same hockey team he plays for. You always saw it as a near impossibility when you moved away from your hometown for the degree- but the universe works in weird and cruel ways that happen to force you into close quarters with a whole gaggle of professional hockey players. You really tried your very hardest to avoid interacting with any of the players on the team outside of working hours, not just Jimin. Although several of them had also flew in today and settled in the same hotel, you made sure to book with a separate airline and get a hotel room on a separate floor. You had no interest in mixing your business with your personal life; it’s nothing but an irresponsible risk.

But here you are now, embarrassing yourself by applying a fresh layer of deodorant before you leave your hotel room. The lavish hallways are luckily empty, and the cool elevator shaft eases the heat crawling up your neck. It’s incredibly nerve-wracking to imagine why you needed to have this intervention, and the idea of how he may answer the door makes you dizzy.

Maybe he’d injured himself? But surely you wouldn’t be the one called to his room in that case. There was always the possibility that he did something to cause a media storm- got into a fight, was spotted robbing a store, maybe it was reported that he did cocaine in a bathroom- but it had only been a few hours since their plane landed, so would he have had time for any of that? And wouldn't covering up a personal blunder be up to his personal manager, not you? Your palms slick with sweat at the possibilities of the mess you’re going to find behind his door.

You hover outside it, staring at the gold plated numbers illuminated by the nearby sconces. It's oddly intimidating to know he's just on the other side of the door; living and breathing and simply existing- perhaps making some kind of erroneous mistake that could ruin his career or basking in the aftermath of that. The wood of the door feels thick and expensive under your fingers as you knock, and it’s so feeble that you can almost guarantee he didn’t hear it. You swear and try again, knocking harder despite your shaking knuckles.

“Coming!” His voice sounds light and airy but it makes lead drop through your stomach. The urge to run away overtakes you and just as you make the decision that no, this isn’t worth the possibility of a promotion, the door swings open.

Park Jimin has no right looking this handsome at whatever ungodly hour you had knocked on his door. His black hair is mussed at the back of his head as if he had just been laying in bed. The softness of his hair is almost enough to weaken you, but the familiar narrowed cut of his eyes runs ice through you. Heat blooms in your cheeks as you blush and internally chastise yourself for the stupid reaction; you were here for a professional reason, so why the fuck was your heart hammering in your chest at a million miles an hour?

"What can I do for you, Y/N?" Jimin's silky voice filters through your hazy mind and you startle, shaking your head to clear the suffocation surrounding you. Alarm bells ring at the familiar cadence of his voice, the way he perfectly crafts the syllables that make up your name.

"Um, I-" your eyes flit around his face; the tempting golden sheen of his skin under the gold casted hallway lighting, the fullness of his cheeks and his pretty lashes and the silver gleam of his lip-ring...

"What the fuck is that?" You practically yell, pulled out of your reverence at his handsomeness as the lip ring registers. It's a bold silver curve, resting temptingly in the middle of his plush bottom lip. It shines as if tempting you to look closer, to touch it, to feel it. Your stomach stirs at the fleeting thought of how the cold metal would pull an addicting contrast between the heated press of his lips.

"This?" He licks at the metal with his tongue and you suddenly feel the need to take a seat. "Got it a while ago, honestly. Off season stuff." He waves his hand nonchalantly as if you'd asked him if he wanted chocolate or vanilla cake. "You like it?" He arches a perfectly shaped brow and leans casually on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. He's small and lithe for a hockey player, but you know that he has intimidating strength corded through his arms and the stamina to match.

Dumbly, you nod at his question. You like it a lot. Jimin lets out a heady laugh and you can only imagine how fucking stupid you look right now; slightly damp hair and a flushed bare face, mismatched sleep socks and these stupid lamb pajamas your mom got you for Christmas. Your face blanches at the sudden realization that the shorts were certainly too small for standing in a hotel hallway under Park Jimin's gaze.

"Wait, no, I'm here because Ken told me to come down and talk to you!" You backtrack quickly, pulling at the bottom hem of your t-shirt.

"Awe, come on Y/N, you mean you didn't want to come visit me for old times sake?" His electric eyes travel your bare legs. You grit your teeth and try to find the fire of anger in your stomach-the shield that's allowed you to ward off your feelings for him for so many years- but it's been replaced by the quivering attraction that never quite left.

"N-no, Jimin." You plant your hands on your hips; hoping to instill some of the social media manager persona back into your conversation. "That thing is a liability for you, and for me, it sounds like, because Ken sent me down here to take care of it. You'll have to get rid of it. It's out of regulations for the games." Jimin blinks owlishly, as if he had never considered that the piercing would be out of regulations.

"Really?" He licks the damn piercing again and your greedy eyes soak up every part; the perfect pinkness of his tongue and the way he maneuvers it around the metal in a tantalizing circle that's much too familiar. Your stomach simmers with arousal.

"Fuck, Jimin, yes. It really is out of regulations, and I would assume Ken saw some picture of you with it, and he's pissed and made it my problem because he isn't here yet. So please, for me, take it out for the games." When is this guy ever going to give you a break? You spent your entire teenage years pining for him and half of your college visits home tangled in his bedsheets, and now as a full fledged adult you're begging him to get his shit together so you can get considered for a promotion. "Please, Jimin, can you just do this one thing for me?" The exasperation of the night makes your voice whiny even to your own ears, and you can practically see Jimin's ears perk at the sound. A cheeky grin overtakes his features.

"If I remember correctly, I've done lots of things for you." You don't miss the shift in his voice; the darkened tone that haunted your dreams for months after you vowed to never speak to him again. Suddenly your throat feels dry and you choke on your rebuttal as he takes a confident stride into the hallway. You can smell the clean linen of his cologne and you instinctively close your eyes and take an inhale. Your nose flares and you swallow your impure thoughts.

"Listen." You poke a finger into his chest and immediately regret it; the firmness of his well toned muscles rejecting your jab. "Come on, Jimin. I'm begging you."

His chest shudders under your finger, and he's so close you can feel the exhale of his breath against your hair. You're frozen as he moves, clasping one of your shoulders with strong fingers. His grip makes your skin tingle as he lowers himself to match your stare.

"I seem to remember you being much better at begging, Y/N. Hmm? Want to try that again?"

Arousal lights your veins and your brain whirs into overdrive, screaming at you to follow the animal instinct clawing inside your gut. Unbidden flashes of your past with Jimin run through your mind: the grip of his hands on your plush hips as he drives himself into you, the paths of bruised kisses he left on your tits after hours of teasing them, the reddened claw marks you left on the bronzed skin of his back.

The current of dominance in his words sparks something dormant inside of you; the slumbering brattiness that you had converted into tenacity reborn. You surge up against him, closing the gap with a bruising kiss. He stumbles slightly in surprise but easily recovers, capturing you around the waist as you devour his mouth. The cool metal of the lip ring is just as addicting as you imagined it to be, wedged between the unending warmth of his plush lips. It's fucking addicting to be kissing him again as he pulls you against the hard planes of his body. There's no hesitation in his actions as he shoves his tongue into your mouth and you nipples pebble in response to the liquid heat he elicits in you.

Oxygen becomes useless to you the longer you kiss him. All that matters is the connection of your bodies, the slip of your tongues against one another. Your heart stutters with yearning as Jimin helps himself to a handful of your ass cheeks and you nip at his piercing playfully. A moan reverberates through him and he uses his grip on you to pull you impossibly closer, walking your bodies backward into his hotel room.

The change of scenery shocks you enough that you finally break from the kiss, panting from the exertion. The heavy door slams shut behind you as Jimin pushes it, perhaps a bit too hard. To your wild satisfaction Jimin looks just as winded as you feel. “Fuck,” he croaks the word and you smile, unable to hold back anymore. Something in your mind loosens, and you surge forward to fumble with the tie of his sweatpants. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and for a second you’re sure that the control he never gave you had become yours: that in the years you’d been apart he had shifted into a man who let you take. After so long of playing the sexy and mysterious playboy, Jimin had finally unraveled for you.

But his sudden strength re-emerges just as you begin to wiggle the fabric down his hips, and he captures your wrists under his palm. Forcing your wandering hands away, a familiar gleam of delight at your pliancy shadows his eyes.

“Oh, little girl, you know better than that, don’t you? Or did you forget how this goes for us?” He tuts dismissively but the passion on his face makes your knees weak. “You-“ he shuffles you closer to the king sized bed, “do what I want you to, isn’t that right, Y/N?” Arrogance colors his tone, and you have half a mind to tell him to shove it, but he guides your hands back to his cock and your brain shorts.

He’s hard, twitching under your touch as he holds your hands there, controlling the pressure of your touch. From your seated position on the bed you get a glorious view of the vein in his neck throbbing, and you regret not plastering any bruises onto his neck earlier. “You always were so good with your hands, Y/N. Fuck. Used to drive me crazy thinking about your hands on my dick.” The husk of his voice makes wetness pool between your thighs. It had been so long since you heard him like this but it was just as delicious as before. The pressure he holds on your hands relinquishes but it’s clear what he expects of you so you snake your hands under the layers of fabric dutifully.

You can’t help but tease him a bit, tracing the curve of his balls through the fabric of his expensive boxers. His hips jump forward and he bites out a warning that has you eager to feel the firm hotness of his bare cock in your hand. You shift forward to pull him free, and you keen at the sight of his cock.

A thatch of welcoming dark hair at the base, the length that puts your last boyfriend to shame, the pretty red-tinged head pulsing with a pearlescent shine of precum. Suddenly, you feel extremely empty.

The seam of your pajama shorts presses right where you need it, so you settle for rubbing your thighs together subtly for now. Your hand encases his length, starting with small gentle strokes that you know are doing nothing but driving him crazy. His stomach clenches and trembles as you start pumping him faster, relishing in the little jumps of his cock as your grip gets firmer.

“Feels so good,” the praise falls from him without thought and strikes a hot iron in your stomach, thighs rubbing together without much thought. “Pretty little hand on me like that, fuckin missed that.” The haze of arousal occupies you enough that you don’t allow yourself to overthink anything: instead taking the liberty to rub your thumb firmly over the tip of his cock. The precum aids your glide but you feel a devious idea sneak up on you and you promptly lean forward to spit directly onto his cock. The sound he makes is inhumane and you adore it, gobbling up the strained whimper of your name as he grasps your hair, hard.

Pleasure shoots down your spine at his grip and he grins slyly, calculating eyes shooting down to the quivering of your thighs. You don’t cease your hands, only adding the second to cup at his balls again while he appraises you. “My pretty little slut, spitting on my cock without me even asking.” He holds your hair harder, cocking your head just enough that you can’t look away from his smoldering eyes. “Are you my pretty little slut?”

You were expecting the question: a relic of your college aged trysts, but it still bowls you over like a semi truck.

“Y-yes, Jimin. ‘M your pretty little slut.” He grins so hard that his eyes scrunch and an approving sound rolls out of him. Your pussy throbs at that, hips canting forward as you mindlessly work your hands over his cock. “Do you need some help?” The grip on your hair disappears and you immediately miss it, the sting of your scalp serving as a beautiful reminder. It takes you a minute to decipher what he means, but the way his penetrating stare flickers between your eyes and your center clues you in. The seam of your shorts had been consistently stimulating you but not nearly enough for any kind of relief: you had soaked through them and your panties while Jimin spoke to you.

You pout at him and nod even though he really didn't need more persuasion. Jimin's quick to cup your pussy in his hand, rubbing his palm over the soaked fabric. Your grip on his cock tightens at his touch and he hisses approvingly, pressing harder against your pussy. You grind your hips upward in a bid to get him closer to your clit. The dull pressure of him cupping you entirely only heightens the neediness in your veins.

"Please, Jimin," you whine and petulantly drop your hands from him when he doesn't get the hint fast enough. Jimin arches a brow at you.

"Is this the game you wanna play, Y/N?" Only now do you realize that his hand has stilled as well, the heat of his palm radiating against your wetness. You shake your head, unable to bear the idea of being denied his touch any longer. "That's what I thought," he tuts. "Now be a good girl and keep touching me, and maybe I'll return the favor."

You immediately grasp for him again, making quick work of thumbing the vein running on the underside of his cock. Jimin returns the favor by honing in on your clit through the fabric of your shorts. You work each other in a lustful tandem, sharing moans until Jimin slips his fingers underneath the soaked layers of fabric on you. The feeling of his fingers on your bare pussy sends you reeling, hands doubling their work on him as he circles your clit with a nimble index finger.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gonna make me fucking cum," his hips stutter wildly under your grip and you smile, dopey on the satisfaction and the energy building in your core.

"Wanna make you cum," you supply, squeezing the head of his cock lightly. Jimin grunts heartily, head tipping back against his shoulders and you know you have him right there. Triumph squeezes your heart as you make quick deliberate strokes across his cock.

You hear him cum before you feel it, the beautiful tone of his voice husked with arousal. His hips stutter and buck against your hand as his cum paints your top and your palm, the sticky wetness oddly satisfying to your lust addled brain. A laugh of disbelief leaves him as your hand finally loosens. His own hand comes back to life and you gasp; surprised by his renewed energy so soon after coming.

His chest heaves as he bares down over you, leaning your body back onto the plush mattress. His eyes skate down to the mess he made of your shirt and a devious smirk decorates his face.

"Hmm, maybe we should get you out of this messy shirt?" His voice is invariably playful again and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you.

"Oh, I guess if you insist..." you bat your eyes playfully as he dislodges his hand from your pussy. It leaves you feeling oddly cold, but the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt distracts you.

"Can I?" The sheepish look on his face stuns you. After everything that had happened tonight, and all of the times he had taken the liberty of stripping you naked before, you're surprised to see the hesitation on his face.

"Yes, Jimin, if you're sure." You cup his face gently, thumbing the delicate metal of his lip ring. He nips at your fingertip and laves at the spot with his sinful tongue. The flush that stains your face is blocked by the fabric of your shirt as he shucks it off; and Jimin's gaze finds your tits immediately.

"So pretty," he pinches a nipple in reverence. "I missed these tits, Y/N. Missed you." You can't be sure if he meant to admit the last part, but hope strikes your heart regardless. He squishes your tits together and jiggles them, and for a second he's transformed back to the boyish college freshman he was when you first started to hook up; high on his new career as an athlete and the fame that came with it.

His tongue laves across the curves of your breasts, biting a bruise into the supple flesh right above your nipple. The pain transforms into arousal in a second, and your hips buck against him in silent question.

"Oh, can't have just half the outfit on, can we?" He dances his calloused fingers along the waistband of your tiny shorts before yanking them clean off, underwear easily going along with them. The rush of cool air that meets your pussy raises goosebumps along your skin.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll get you nice and warmed up again." Jimin cracks a feline smile and settles comfortably on his knees before parting your thighs. Wetness slicks between them and he hums in satisfaction.

His long hair tickles your legs and you already feel so overwhelmed that by the time he puts his mouth on you, your back is arching toward the ceiling. He presses a kiss to your pussy and the cold sting of his lip ring brings tears to your eyes. Jimin parts your lips with his fingers and allows himself to feast, licking you so thoroughly that you think this must be a holy experience.

Surely this is what divine intervention feels like: Park Jimin feasting on your pussy like a man starved, circling your clit with his tongue and teasing your throbbing entrance with his deft fingers. Your body is honed into every move he makes, and each twitch of his tongue and push of his fingers brings you closer to the sweet, blinding edge. Your hips squirm at the overwhelming sensations and Jimin nips at your clit in retaliation, throwing a strong arm over your lower stomach. Effectively holding you in place, he redoubles his efforts and slides two fingers home, stretching your walls at the same time he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

The hot wetness of your arousal, his mouth, the slip of his tongue against you, and the shockingly chilled press of that god damn lip ring send you into happy oblivion. An inhumane string of noises rips from your throat as you come, writhing against the sheets as white heat flashes behind your eyelids. You vaguely register Jimin's fingers pushing you through the high as he laps the last bits of arousal out of you.

"There's my pretty little slut," he purrs as you settle. Your thighs twitch as he pulls his hand away to smooth down the hairs sticking to your face. It takes you a few blinks to register the pretty grin on his face, but you return it with ease.

"Never get rid of that thing." You gesture vaguely to his mouth and a puff of laughter runs across your face. He tongues at it thoughtfully, and even though you had just come, your pussy throbs again.

"Funny, about an hour ago you were begging me to take it out."

You slap his chest noncommittally, still weakened from your explosive orgasm. Jimin pecks your forehead and you keen. A softness appears around his edges as he looks down on you; and even in your bare faced, sweaty state you feel adored.

"I missed you too," the words burst forward before you can rethink it. It'd been swimming around in your mind since you accepted your job offer and caught sight of him for the first time in years. Although neither of you were ever bold enough to make it official, there was no denying the magnetic attraction you shared.

"Fuck, I'm so glad you said that. I have so much I wanna talk to you about-" he presses another delicate kiss to the corner of your lips and you grin. "But I am so hard right now, can we please talk later?" He rolls his hips against you and the evidence is clear. Your brain blanks, replacing the fuzzy adoration with sharp, demanding need.

"Uh huh, talk later. Need you now." Jimin makes short work of his shirt at your approval. His instagram modeling presence has made you no stranger to the sight of his bared chest; but the toned muscles of his pecs and abs scramble your mind. His skin nearly twinkles under the light, and whether its a trick of your mind or the evidence of a very fancy moisturizer, you're just happy to be in his presence.

"Flip," he orders, voice devoid of the sweetness it held just moments before. A shiver wracks your spine as you follow his instructions, flipping onto your hands and knees and obediently curving your back. Jimin hums in praise and you feel renewed energy course through your veins.

He traces the curve of your ass, ghosting his touch around the sensitive skin. You can't see him but you can picture the self satisfied grin on his face as he relishes in the smooth skin. The touch of his lips against your full cheek shocks you and you rock forward into the bed. Jimin bites into the flesh firmly and you moan at the feeling of his sharp canines. You can imagine the blooming bruise that will be there by the morning, and the mere idea of the sore reminder of this night makes your core throb.

"Do you-" Jimin's words die in this throat. "Do you have any condoms?" The punch of reality has you sagging into the sheets. Of course you didn't. The last thing you expected was for this night to unfold like it did. Heavy disappointment weighs your heart.

"I didn't bring any, I haven't..." he trails off again and you wait a few breathless seconds for his words before you twist your upper body so you can see his face. His cheeks are flushed a rosy red that's so endearing your heart squeezes. If it weren't for his evident arousal you would think he had just woken up from a long, restful sleep.

"I haven't been with anyone in a while." He gives you a sheepish smile and you nod in understanding.

"Me either." The admission passes between the two of you like calm water, cooling the tension until a storm whips up in Jimin's eyes. His cocky grin returns as he palms himself.

"I'm clean, are you?" You nod, body reacting to his insinuation before your mind can fully catch up.

"I'm on the pill," you breathe the words as if you can't believe them, and Jimin looks absolutely ravenous. He runs two thick fingers up your pussy, gathering the heady arousal that already has you slippery and stretched for him.

"Gonna let me get in you raw, huh?" He shuffles forward until you can feel the tip of his cock pressed against your folds. He holds his cock against you with his thumb as he glides, careful not to enter you prematurely.

"If I woulda known all it took was a few years apart..." you huff a rueful laugh that transforms into a moan as he slips the head of his cock into you.

"Oh fuck-" Jimin wastes no time in sliding in until he is seated fully inside of you. Your walls pulse around him and you can feel drool pooling in your mouth. He takes a handful of each of your asscheeks and pulls your body against his own, a little experiment to see just how greedy your pussy is for him.

An obscene squelch sounds between your bodies and it only spurs Jimin into further action.

"Fucking perfect little ass and pussy swallowing me up." Jimin moves impossibly fast, taking care to sheath his entire cock inside of you hard before pulling out. Your finger nails rake through the comforter as the waves of pleasure ripple through you. Jimin's body encases your own, trapping you under the strength of his muscles and heat of his sweaty skin. With his chest pressed to your back, his cock drives into you at a brand new angle that makes your toes curl with delight. Jimin's sinful lips find a home at the juncture of your neck and he seems more than happy to decorate you with hickeys to match the one on your ass. The addicting drag of his cock pairs with the tickling cold of his lip ring each time his mouth lands on you, and the sensory overload has your stomach clenching.

You have completely lost control of your mouth and allowed the animalistic sector of your brain to take over as Jimin fucks you stupid. His own incoherent grunts vibrate against your neck in fragments. "Pretty...good little slut...fuck..."

Your eyes roll as he slows his thrusts, aiming for the perfect spot that makes your legs jelly. It only takes him a few moments to find it, and the world quickly becomes washed with tears.

You hiccup his name as he steadies a hand around your abdomen, sneakily playing with your clit.

"You gonna come for me, Y/N? Get my cock all nice and wet just like you're supposed to?" He braces his unoccupied hand overtop of you, clutching the headboard with flexing muscles. His presence is suffocating in the best possible way and you feel like you're drowning in Jimin.

"Such a perfect little pussy. So hot and wet for me all the time." His voice wavers and his thumb catches your clit just right. A dark chuckle graces your senses just as you tip into oblivion.

Your entire body contracts and shivers under him as you cum, Jimin's hips driving you forward until you collapse into the comforter in a fit of cries. It feels like you come forever, leaking waves of arousal around Jimin as his hips slap against your own.

"Good job, baby. I-I'm gonna come, you feel so good." You whine and plead for him, ready for the electric feeling of him filling you with his cum. You're still feeling shaky when he comes, driving his hips as far forward as possible as he fills you. Beautiful airy moans leave him as he grinds against you, relishing in the sloppy warmth of your mixed cum.

His hips slow their movement but his mouth never ceases, spilling praise and planting kisses along your back until he's spent. When he pulls out you instantly feel empty, whining as his cum slides out with him. Both of you are too spent to do anything about it, but Jimin watches with hooded eyes from beside you as it leaks onto the comforter. It's scary how suddenly the sleepiness hits you, and you reach near blindly for the man next to you.

You must look exhausted because he coos and pecks a kiss over your nose. "You can sleep here." You giggle and crack your eyes open and find him so close that you can see the irregularities of his teeth as he grins.

"Good, cause I'm not walkin' back to my room now. Even if I could walk, my clothes are ruined." His face flushes at the reminder of your debauchery. He licks his lips and your eyes catch on that damned lip ring again.

"You really will have to take that out for the games," you run your thumb across it again, obsessed with the feeling.

"I know," he whispers, and then his lips are ghosting over your own for permission. This kiss is nothing like the one you shared at the top of the night. It's gentle and slow and punctuated with a deep connection that runs years deep. Despite how much you had done tonight, this kiss feels the most intimate of all.

No more words need to be exchanged as he helps you sit up and walks you to the bathroom with some pajamas from his bag. He patiently waits outside as you pee-both of you agreeing that you weren't quite ready to be that available with one another- and he lends you a bit of his face wash in earnest.

The comforter is stripped from the bed by the time you're back, and he's pulled the extra pillows from the linen closet to accommodate for you. You shuffle under the sheets and are happy to find them just as silky as your own were. Jimin slips in next to you, fully clothed again, and promptly kills the bedside lamp.

Sleepiness overtakes you almost instantly then, and it's so dark that you rely on the pattern of his breath to gauge if Jimin is still awake.

"I'm sorry if I made things weird for all that time, I- I was just scared that I would say the wrong thing." You speak to the surrounding darkness, and for a minute you think that maybe you missed the short window of opportunity. But then Jimin gives a thoughtful hum, shuffling so that he can tuck your body against his chest. His response is muffled by your hair.

"It's okay. We were young and stupid last time. I hope you'll let us try again." Your heart swells and you hum in affirmation and snuggle back against him. "Tomorrow?" You offer, the hazy edge of sleep just seconds away.

"Tomorrow." Jimin agrees before your consciousness drops easily into dreamland.

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Villainess AU Headcanons

I’ve been on a real fantasy kick lately, and that’s not stopping with post. This is a plot bunny that’s been hopping around in my mind for a while, and it snatched up my Dragon Jack AU headcanons from the previous posts, along with the tragic short story of Alice remembering how she died in her past life as Mary to become a bigger bunny. This is the long overdue and previously teased Villainess AU!

Content warnings before we begin: this post touches on topics of infidelity, betrayal, yandere obsession, attempted mind control, death, chronic illness, trauma, and a bit of spice to lighten it up. This shouldn’t get too dark or smutty, but who knows where indulging in my OTP will take me?

On that note, I might wind up using some art from the game/teasers/merch/etc. in this post, so I’m going to go ahead and give a shout out to SnaccPop Studios’ patreon. Consider joining to see some exclusive stuff! Credit to them for this game that has given me plot bunnies that are constantly multiplying.

Anyway, the villainess genre, for those unaware, is a subgenre of the transmigrator genre, which in turn is a subgenre of isekai stories. Typically it takes an otome - a dating sim game aimed at women with a female protagonist - and has the world within that story be real. The main character, a fan of the dating sim, is reborn in the world of this dating sim, not as the protagonist, but as the evil villainess rival who gets in the protagonist’s way and inevitably meets a terrible end regardless of the route taken, often going through much humiliation in the process. The main character then has to avoid her horrible fate and overturns the original story, oftentimes becoming the one the love interests are drawn to instead of the original female protagonist.

Naturally, there are stories that tweak the formula around and subvert expectations, but that’s the basic gist of the genre.

Now Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack is a dating sim, but there’s a distinct lack of a villainess character involved in the plot, which makes sense since Jack fills the antagonist role in every route pretty well. This means that a villainess AU would have the world of the in-universe game be different from the game that we can actually play in our world over on steam and itch. If you’d like to see my ideas on an isekai that takes place in the game as we know it, check it out in this previous post over here.

So let’s start with the AU’s in-universe game itself, and what classic otome roles our favorite male leads might take. While I could cast Ian in the prince role once again like I did with the dragon AU and the fantasy incubus Jack AU, I think we all know who the real ruler of SDJ is.

Thus Jack gets the role of the crown prince. Now, we could have this be a standard fantasy kingdom, but I feel inclined to give it a SunnyTime Town AU twist. Much like in the Aphrodisia crossover Mafia AU, our favorite clown family is a powerful ruling family, only with magic and clown gimmicks instead of guns. Shaun, Nick, and Ian aren’t their typical selves in this universe, but they too get a nice colorful makeover and some spiffy titles, as shown in these limited edition trading cards. Thanks to Crispy for sharing pictures of the cards, and credit to Sauce for creating the amazing artwork in the first place.

Since we’re talking about the cards, how about we shake things up and leave the star of the show for last so we can show off the clown counterparts of the other three male leads.

Ian Duff has the title of Sir Sweet Dreams, and is a knight in this AU, part of the illustrious order of the Night-Knights. His hair is a shade of violet-blue, with face paint that gives him some blue splotches and stars. The Duffs are a noble family, and Ian struggles with the weight of obligation as the firstborn son. He’s not suited for combat, being a pacifist at heart. The otome’s main character (who I will call OMC for simplicity) would help Ian choose his heart over his duty when going down his route, and fight for the future that he wants instead of what his family expects.

Shaun Durand-Cofer is a member of the mage tower, with white and gray face paint and glowing golden eyes, given the nickname of Glad-Pire due to his cheerful personality and his specialization in studying the secrets of dark magic. He’s still our favorite goth butterball, even as a magical clown, and he has MoonPie as his familiar. In the original otome game, OMC would help him deal with the doubts that he’s been having about studying dark magic. He’s been a great benefit to the kingdom, but many are suspicious of his motives, not trusting dark magic in any form, and his relatives are ashamed of him despite the good he’s done.

Nick Herrera’s clown identity with his white and blue face paint is an interesting one, with the title of Sous Chef Sweetly, his job in the trading cards is very different from his employment in the game. Now, typically fantasy otome games don’t have our OMC romancing a chef, but they do have love interests who are wonderful at cooking. Regardless if he is a sous chef or a dom in this universe, Nick is a member of the nobility, and is quite popular with people. He has countless suitors wanting his hand, and he’s known as a ladies’ (and more) man. However, despite his reputation and charming personality, in reality he’s just a shy dork who struggles to make a genuine human connection. In the otome game, OMC sees past his status and reputation that others have placed on him, and sees him for the awkward guy he is deep down inside.

Finally, let’s talk about Jack, or rather him and the rest of the Blouin family. King Marceau and Queen Lucy rule together over this colorful country, and are known to be just and fair. Jack, their second born child, is crown prince and heir to the throne. Their eldest child, Jane, would have been next in line if she didn’t make it very clear from an early age that she did not want the role. She would rather travel the world as a free spirit, not weighed down by the weight of the crown, so she left it to her little brother to take care of in her place.

Fortunately, Jack has accepted his role with dignity and grace. He’s known to always be smiling, a prince everyone admires and desires. Deep down though, he has insecurities about everyone only seeing him for the title of king that he will one day inherit. They see the prince first and Jack second. He always had the option to pass on the role to his younger sibling, but young Jo is a sensitive soul, and Jack couldn’t force them to carry such a heavy burden. He accepted the role of heir from Jane gladly, and he was always sure he could handle it, but doubts creep in that OMC helps him work through as they see Jack for who he is and not for the crown he must one day wear.

Now, the role of the villainess in these games is to act as a romantic rival, the person who stands in the way of OMC getting together with one of the love interests. There can be one that gets in OMC’s way no matter who they pursue, or each love interest could have a “villainess” who gets together with them should the OMC fail their route. Typically, if there’s at least one villainess, she’s engaged to one of the love interests in an arranged marriage set up by their parents. She’s also obsessed with power, and typically the crown prince. This is why she’s usually the prince’s fiancee, who is clearly unfit to be queen.

But why not make things a bit spicier? The villainess in this otome game is an arranged marriage to Ian, but she wants to marry Prince Jack instead to become queen. In Ian’s route, she abuses him similarly to his mother, making him feel like he’s not good enough for her. However, when OMC gets closer to Ian in his route, they get on the villainess’ nerves and she gives them a hard time despite not actually caring for Ian. It’d be like seeing someone steal your toy away when you weren’t ready to discard it. The general vibe is, “I don’t want him, but no one else is allowed to have what’s mine!”

For Shaun’s route, the villainess would be tricking him, using his knowledge of black magic for selfish ends without him realizing it. In the bad end, he would be arrested and executed for treason, as the villainess used him to help her make a love potion that she used on Prince Jack. She, of course, also is executed, because the villainess doesn’t win regardless of the route. The OMC would have to find out about the villainess’ schemes to clear Shaun’s name and prevent the potion from being used.

In Nick’s route, the villainess is jealous of his popularity. He’s also probably a stepping stone in her plots to bewitch and seduce the prince. She’s less of a central antagonist in this route for the OMC, but still an annoyance that gets a bad end regardless of how Nick’s route ends, because the villainess having countless bad ends is kind of the punchline.

Then of course there’s Jack’s route. Naturally, being the one the villainess is lusting after and wants to bewitch, the conflict with the OMC is more pronounced in this route for obvious reasons. OMC must stop the villainess’ countless bullying tactics and schemes in order to have a happy ending.

Basically, it’s the classic otome game setup, with a touch of colorful clown face paint for flare.

Now, the actual MC, the character we’d be playing as in this AU, would be a fan of the otome game. Perhaps playing it is their guilty pleasure. They’re familiar with all the routes. Then, one day, they wake up in the body of the villainess in classic transmigrator isekai fashion.

Although the role of villainess is typically for cis females, MC is whatever gender we decide they should be. There’s a lot of possibilities to explore how an AMAB MC might react to suddenly having an AFAB body, or perhaps whatever force of the universe that made them take the role changed it so that the “villainess” is whatever gender MC was in their previous life, or whatever gender that is true to them.

MC would then be left with the choice of how to handle living in this world and the role they were expected to play. The obvious solution would be to avoid anything having to do with the OMC or seducing Jack, but typically it’s not that easy for the MC to avoid the other characters in a villainess story, especially if they’re engaged to Ian. This is especially true if they start feeling attracted to Jack despite knowing the many bad ends that might await them down that path.

There’s a lot of variables with a general MC and how that would affect the villainess character, as well as what they made of that character. That’s why this ramble took a while to make. I got too caught up on the broader picture, and kept waffling back and forth on things.

So let’s narrow our focus, shall we?

Alice takes the role of villainess in this story. In the original game, the character Alice is spoiled, greedy, vain, gluttonous, and just an overall unpleasant rival that is meant to be the clear-cut bad guy that the player should take great pleasure in seeing get a most unpleasant and humiliating end. You know, the typical chubby antagonist whose weight is the reason why they are deemed repulsive and the butt of the universe’s jokes.

In a way, Alice is forced to take up an unpleasant role like her acting teacher warned her she would be pigeonholed into in the main universe. Only, in this case, she’s expected to live the part.

Of course, unlike a lot of stories in this genre where the villainess starts off chubby and goes through a story arc where they quickly lose weight, Alice is going to stay chubby in this AU, because as long as one is healthy, their size and shape doesn’t matter. It won’t stop people from making fun of her for her size, but it also won’t stop her from being beautiful and worthy of love.

Since this is a reincarnation story, naturally Alice’s previous incarnation was Mary. Since otome games weren’t really a thing in the USA in the early 80’s, the world would instead be based off of a storybook, or a series of stories. It could even be a tween romance series where the main character romances a different guy in the same setting, something super self-indulgent where the protagonist may as well be a build-it-yourself OC with how little detail they have. In this AU, it was a series that was a guilty pleasure when Mary was young that she probably cringed at when looking at it again later in life.

It would also provide a huge tonal whiplash to suddenly find herself in the role of such a series’ villainess after dying such a sad and lonely death in the hospital. Instead of waking up in the comforting arms of her lover in the next life, she wakes up in a lavish mansion with memories of the character she was reborn to play blending in with her sad former life.

It would be interesting if, as a kid, Mary envied the OMC for all the adventures and love she got, only to go back to the series as an adult and see all the awful messages. Many protagonists in the genre wind up empathizing with the villainess, seeing where the story painted them in an unfair light, and things about Alice in the story wound up striking too close to home now that she saw them as an adult, and the OMC is a lot more childish and self-centered than she remembered.

It’d still be strange for anyone to wake up in the role of an antagonist they sympathized with, especially when their last memory was filled with so much grief, pain, and trauma.

While I am tempted that Alice just wakes up one day with Mary’s memories, I think it would be more fitting that they were triggered. In the original story, the first time Alice saw the crown prince at a party, she fell obsessively in love with him. However, in this case, his familiar face reminded her instantly of Joseph, and struck her with a painful nostalgia that rocked her to her core, awakening her memories of her previous life and how she died.

Alice collapses from the shock on the spot. All the memories of pain and love colliding and blending in with this new reality hit her all at once, overwhelming her completely. To onlookers, she’s a noble lady who merely fainted, possibly swooning at the sight of the crown prince, or because of some sudden illness.

It, understandably, takes Alice a while to reconcile the two sets of memories… especially when she realizes that she’s been reborn in the world of a story with many possible endings… as the hated villainess who is going to meet one of many awful ends.

Alice grieves for Joseph and everything she lost as Mary all over again. Prince Jack is so painfully similar to Joseph… especially if the SunnyTime Crew Show existed in her previous life. It’d be so shockingly coincidental, too coincidental, and it’d be hard for her to know what to make of it. Even if the show and the character of Sunny Day Jack didn’t exist, she would still wonder if maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one reborn.

At the same time, Alice knows the original story. The Alice in the story was obsessed over Jack. What if she goes down the same path, leading to the doom of not only herself, but possibly even her family who enabled the villainess’ rampage in the series?

Since Alice would regain her memories the first time she saw Jack, it would most likely be a point in time before the stories were supposed to begin, perhaps even when she is still a child before she gains that villainess reputation in the first place. It might be fitting too, since the first time she and Joseph met was as children. In a way, it’s like they had their first meeting all over again, only she’s the one who needed to be taken away for medical assistance.

This leaves Alice in a difficult place. Should she find out if Jack really is Joseph? What if he doesn’t remember their past lives? What if she’s wrong and the universe is playing yet another cruel joke on the villainess Alice?

What if this is why the character Alice was so dangerously obsessed over Jack? The story was primarily focused on the OMC, not really touching on the reasons why Alice was so desperate to be with Jack beyond an apparent desire for power. The stories never really talked about her family, which Mary is surprised is so loving, even to the point of spoiling Alice. She wished for a family who loved her this much, and now she has it. She’s not alone anymore.

 The original story has so many paths that lead to her doom. Mary Phoenix is dead, and she is now Alice of house Rose. There was nothing left for her in the life she left, and in this new life she doesn’t hurt like she used to. She has so much more in this life, everything she dreamed of during those long and lonely nights she spent sick in her room.

The only thing missing is her starlight, but… if he would be happier without her… she’ll leave Jack be. The prince in the stories was always disgusted by the villainess and adored the OMC no matter what route the OMC took. Mary helped Joseph get the job of Sunny Day Jack that led to his death. If Prince Jack really is Joseph reborn like she suspects, he’s loved by all. She knows from the stories and what she has heard that he has a loving family, and the love of an entire kingdom.

Perhaps the best thing for Alice to do is to be content with the life she has now. She has a loving family, wealth enough to do practically anything she wants, status, and, well, Ian was a sweet character. They’re not engaged yet at this time, but maybe an arranged marriage with him wouldn’t be so bad? She had met him before regaining her memories as Mary, and he seemed quite nice. Also, as a reader she did think that the villainess Alice would’ve been happier if she just was satisfied with her fiance Ian.

It doesn’t change the fact that Alice still misses Joseph. She still loves him more than anything. The pain of his death is fresh in her mind. Would it really be so selfish just to see if perhaps Jack really is her starlight reborn? Would she still be a villainess wanting to have some sort of relationship with him? She’s not the character Alice. She won’t be so cruel, and certainly wouldn’t use mind altering potions on anybody.

Alice is left torn on what the right thing to do is. The story ends miserably for her in so many ways, but this isn’t a story, this is her reality now. Love taken too far can become obsession. What if she projects her memories of Joseph onto Jack? That wouldn’t be fair to him. He might never remember… or he might be someone else entirely. He might just look like her starlight, with the name of the character he played when he died, the same character she came up with as the show’s writer. The same role that led to his death. It would be so cruel if he wasn’t Joseph, but then again, this world is very cruel to its villainess.

It’s this sort of internal war that keeps Alice secluded from the world and society for a while. She needs time to sort through these memories and thoughts. She needs to grieve and remember the story to figure out what the right path forward is. This seclusion and sudden drastic change in her mood worries her family. They don’t know what’s wrong with her, and she won’t open up to them, as there’s no way to explain without sounding like a lunatic.

Eventually, Alice would come to the conclusion that she should keep a respectable distance between her and Jack. If he is Joseph and remembers her… it’s all she could ask for. But she won’t go down the path of forcing it. She won’t force him to have a relationship, to love her, and she certainly won’t force him to be what she wants. She will accept that Joseph is dead and that she must move on and somehow find a happy ending despite the role she has been given. Whatever relationship she might have with Jack in the future, she won’t forcefully bind him to her just because of a past that was now dead.

Jack, however, has different plans.

Come on, you can’t expect me to let things end like that for my OTP. I’m a sucker for happy endings after all. Besides, we’ve still got to add some yandere spice to the mix even if Alice is refusing to play the part like the villainess character did.

Despite Alice’s fears, Jack is indeed Joseph reborn. He has a passing familiarity with the story, since he knew that it was Mary’s favorite series as a child. He took interest in the things she liked, even if they didn’t resonate with him the way it did with her. However, the original story doesn’t matter to him. The instant he saw his sunshine’s face for the first time, he knew, he just knew that he couldn’t let her go.

Just like Alice has trauma from her death, Jack does as well. Whatever supernatural curse bound Joseph to the tape led to the pair being reborn in this world. Perhaps he figured out a way to escape his hell, or change its form, leading to the creation of this world while also bringing Mary’s soul into this new world he created. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Mary was the one who came up with the concept of the SunnyTime Crew show in the first place and was one of the writers. Perhaps the wish she made at the end of her life changed both their fates, and she was the one responsible for this world’s existence. Perhaps it was a mixture of all these things, or something else entirely that led to this situation. For all we know, a trickster god decided to meddle with things to give them a new life where they might have a second chance.

Perhaps a trickster dragon god who wants to see her OTP live a new life in a different world where they can be happy together and is a fan of the villainess transmigration genre. ;3

Whatever the case, Jack won’t let anyone take his sunshine away. He isn’t Joseph anymore. They can have a fresh start, a new life without the sins of Joseph Cullman to weigh him down. He can create the life for the two of them that he always wished to make. He can be whatever he wants to be, including a prince charming that will give his sunshine whatever her heart desires.

The time Jack spent in hell left him with nightmares of cold nights, lost and alone even before consciously remembering his past life. He clung to his family more because of it, being somewhat of a spoiled baby, but their love helped him not feel so alone. Even still, something was missing, a hole in his heart that ached to be filled.

Being a prince, Jack sees countless faces. He has to remember so many people in order to be a good king one day. He often goes to parties to greet countless nobles, but none of them caught his attention like Alice.

Initially, Jack didn’t see Alice in the crowd, staring at him with wide eyes. It was the commotion that caught his attention. He heard one of the young ladies had fainted. The knights were on alert, worried about foul play. They ushered the prince to safety, but Jack dragged his feet, he kept looking back.

Then Jack caught a glimpse of her, the girl being carried off by a servant or a worried parent. Her sickly pale face was so familiar… he couldn’t place it. He struggled a little harder, wanting a better look at her, but the knights were stronger and urged him away. Something inside him screamed to go back. He had to see her properly, look in her eyes, which were twisted tightly closed.

For some reason he was certain that her eyes were a distinct shade of blue.

Jack couldn’t get Alice out of his mind. He found out her name after things calmed down. She had gotten sick. What was wrong? Oh, the family couldn’t say for sure. That wasn’t good enough of an answer for Jack. He needed to know what happened, if she was okay. He had to see her.

The glimpse of Alice was like a crack in the wall that separated Jack from his memories of Joseph. He had painful flashes, nightmares of a life filled with regrets that only had a few shining moments of happiness.

The brightest light in that darkened life was the one with eyes the color of the sky at dawn.

Jack kept petitioning to visit Alice, under the excuse that he wanted to wish her well, see if she was alright in person, but the Rose family politely declined each time. His concern was appreciated, but she was too unwell for visitors.

It drove Jack crazy, and it brought back memories of a hospital, of a woman whose life hung by a thread. More than once Joseph had to take Mary to the hospital even before her final days there. Being unable to see her also made him feel lonely in a way that he hadn’t felt in so, so long. He felt so very, very cold.

At some point Jack remembered names. He remembered Mary, Joseph, and the tragic way his life and career ended with exposed sins and gunfire. He also remembered what came after, the cold emptiness and pain that tore away at him, his desperation for someone, anyone to save him, to remember that he was still there.

Jack struggled with reconciling these memories. He wanted to escape from them, but at the same time he couldn’t let go of Mary, the girl who looked so much like Alice. The memories of the story that made up the world he lived in were vague, something he remembered far later, but for now he just had to meet Alice, if only to settle the dissonance that had overtaken his mind.

The change in Jack was noticed, of course, and his family were concerned about him. He quickly remembered how to hide how he felt behind a smile. The more he remembered of the actor known as [Redacted], the better he could play the part of the cheerful, smiling prince. Being a prince really wasn’t that much different than being a kids TV show host and teacher after all. He just needed to put on a good show for everyone.

When Alice had recovered enough to leave her bedroom and try to live her new life, she was shocked to learn that the prince wanted to see her, and was surprisingly insistent about it. Although her family said that she didn’t have to see him if she was still unwell, she couldn’t turn him down. She had to see him, talk to him at least once. Then maybe, just maybe, she could figure out what she should do.

The moment they met, Alice tried to act like a proper lady, to not let on how seeing Jack face to face made her heart ache so much. She curtsied and greeted him as she was polite instead of giving in to the part of her that just wanted to throw herself into his arms and cry.

Those eyes of hers were just as bright and blue as Jack knew they would be. He knew that he was right. Alice was Mary, his sunshine. She acted as if she didn’t recognize him, but maybe it was better that way. They could start over as Jack and Alice. They could forget all the mistakes, all the pain.

This time, Jack would do everything right.

Jack was charming during their meeting. He expressed concern about Alice fainting at the party, offering her a gift that left her confused and a bit flustered by the attention. His behavior was so kind and princely… but he didn’t recognize her. She couldn’t be sure this was Joseph or just someone with his face. Spending time with him was both wonderful and made her heart ache with longing. If she was to keep herself from becoming obsessed with him, she knew by the end of the night that she would have to keep her distance.

Of course, Jack would never allow that. He started sending Alice letters, visited her often, and invited her to the palace. Despite the painful nostalgia of their past, the time they spent together was a joy to both of them. Alice laughed at his dumb jokes for the first time in what felt like forever. It was so hard not to simply fall in love with him all over again in spite of herself.

Though they were getting closer, Jack couldn’t risk anything getting between them. By this point, he remembered some elements of the story, just the broadest strokes, but they were enough for him to remember the roles they were supposed to play… and how the “villainess” would inevitably meet a tragic fate.

In many storybook isekai stories, the protagonist writes down everything they can about the original story so they don’t forget it. I, like many readers, wonder what would happen if someone else was to come across these notes, but that plot point never comes up again.

So what if Jack, when visiting Alice one day, snoops through her things, and finds her notes about the original story? It could be what makes him remember the original series in the first place. It was so long ago since he read it, and he wasn’t a fan of it after all. His memories would be far more faint than Alice’s would be.

So many routes lead to awful deaths for Alice in this series. It’s sadistic to its villainess - banishment, imprisonment, beheading, assassination, poisoning, turning into a monster, and many other countless awful ends. There are some notes she added of potential counter-measures to escape these awful fates… including a note that she can’t let herself fall in love with Prince Jack.

Well now… Jack isn’t about to allow their story to meet a tragic end in any respect. Never again.

Jack is going to change the story, and the first change is to make sure that Alice gets engaged to him instead of Ian. Oh, his parents are surprised when he brings it up. They were going to let him choose who he wanted to marry when he was older, rather than force a choice, but Jack was adamant that he wanted to marry Alice. Arranging a marriage isn’t uncommon for nobility, and in fact talks had been going on between the Rose family and the Duff family for a while now, but those are swiftly ended.

Needless to say, Alice is shocked by the change in the narrative. She was already surprised that Jack liked her and went out of his way to spend time with her instead of avoiding her like in the books, but an engagement? Should she be happy or worried? He reminds her of Joseph, but he is different now. Is he really her starlight?

When meeting Jack next, Alice tries sounding him out. She tries to subtly bring up things about their past that only Mary and Joseph would know. Jack doesn’t acknowledge these things, redirecting conversations and distracting Alice so she doesn’t try again. If she tries being more forceful, it causes Jack to be shaken up, not wanting to be Joseph anymore, and she immediately backs off at seeing his distress. Even if she wants answers, she can’t stand the idea of hurting Jack.

The question never gets neatly resolved for Alice about whether Jack is really Joseph, but it’s hard for her not to be swept up by him. He always had a way of charming her, and they have so much fun together. Even if they are new people now, they fit so neatly together, like two puzzle pieces. Despite her resolve not to fall in love, he keeps finding ways of making her heart flutter in spite of herself.

There’s also the looming fear of the OMC and Jack falling in love with her like he did in the story, but Alice is all too aware that the story has changed. Hell, her awareness changes it in and of itself. Plus the original story was a series of stories with different routes, with no true timeline. She has no idea how the OMC is going to change things whenever she finally appears.

Alice and Jack grow up together like they did in their previous lives, only this time nothing is forcing them apart. In their own ways, they make alterations to the original story without letting the other know in order to make sure Alice won’t face a tragic end. Jack at times takes a bit more direct action against those who would hurt his sunshine.

Suffice to say, Alice falls in love with Jack in spite of herself, and eventually the truth that Jack remembers will be revealed. It’ll hurt Alice that he hid it all this time, especially since it would have reassured her so much that he remembered too. There’s going to be some drama, but in the end they love each other and want to be together. Even if the reveal might hurt after lying for so long, Alice will forgive Jack. In the end, she’ll always forgive her starlight.

In the end, Alice and Jack have their happily ever after. The memories might have left scars on their hearts, the past might have had such pain and darkness, but they can move forward. They can heal, find love and so many new connections in this life. Most of all, they’ll always find their way back to each other. Their love will bind them together forever.

As for the OMC… perhaps they get together with Ian in the end. I mean, Ian does cheat on MC in the original SDJ game, and he plays the role of the love interest who cheats with the protagonist despite being engaged in the in-universe otome game. It’d be narratively fitting.

Plus it would be kind of funny if, regardless of Jack remembering or any other connection like with Alice/Mary, MC tried to avoid their bad end by staying faithful to their fiance Ian and accept the arranged marriage… only to be cheated on when the OMC comes along, similar to the Ian route in the original story.

Man, wouldn’t it hurt even worse if MC sincerely fell in love with Ian, vowing not to cheat like the villainess did, only to wind up being the one cheated on in the end. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the teeth?

That’s pretty much all the ideas I have for the villainess AU I have for now, but it feels weird to leave it on a sour note, so here’s one last bit of fluffy OTP self-indulgence.

Jack isn’t going to wait for the wedding night to seduce Alice, though he is going to be eager to have their wedding as soon as possible. Also, in a bit of narrative irony, he’s going to be the one to get the mage’s tower to make a potion for him, but not a love potion. He would never force his sunshine to do anything she doesn’t want to do. It’s more of a potion made for loving if you catch my drift.

After all, what’s a fantasy AU with a horny male lead without some magical aphrodisiacs? Nothing to influence the will or remove consent, but it does make the skin and other places very sensitive. It’s just a little added spice after they become intimate to make Alice respond so strongly to his every touch and burn for Jack all the more.

Jack could take some as well, though he doesn't need an aphrodisiac for Alice to drive him crazy. Every time she touches him, he burns so badly for her, so desperate and needy. It took everything he could to hold himself back until she finally gave in to her feelings and loved him despite fears of the original story and their pasts. Suggesting they have a little fun with aphrodisiacs just makes things a little more fair by giving Jack a chance to drive Alice with crazy with desire for a change~

I hope it wasn’t too meandering of a ramble, hahaha. Maybe I’ll come back to this plot bunny again sometime. I hope you enjoyed it!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[mollywog]

WIP wednesday: what's one sentence you've written that you're itching to share or one plot bunny you'd like to tell us about? <3

Ooo! Thanks for the ask @thelettersfromnoone.

So I have a couple modern AUs and one of my favorite things (aside from weatherman Finnick) is the Peeta and Johanna friendship. Here’s the general gist:

Johanna had dated Peeta’s brother breifly in college. Rye had brought Jo on a family vacation, presumably to piss off their mother: mission accomplished. And while their relationship hadn’t lasted the trip, it had been the beginning of Johanna and Peeta’s friendship.

They also usually own a coffee shop/bakery together (there’s an M&M or Jo’s Joe pun in there somewhere) because Johanna somewhere along the way got very into coffee roasting - she’s super pretentious about it… like staging impromptu coffee cuppings during parties.

I have the seed of an idea where Katniss becomes Johanna’s roommate randomly through a craigslist listing and Johanna offers her free coffee from her shop as part of the arrangement (I will never do the dishes, but you’ll never have to pay for coffee - or something.) Katniss doesn’t really care for the stuff, but stops in one day to ask Johanna about the rent and runs into a certain blonde baker… at which point she develops a caffeine habit.

Anywayssss

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble!!!

[oneatlatime]

The Fortuneteller

(A title which I am itching to divide into three words instead of two because boy does 'Fortuneteller' look stupid - seriously, stare at it for a bit and see how fast it starts looking like Fortun Eteller)

The last couple of episodes have had a contemplative character, so I'm rooting for this one to be a silly one. Also more Sokka please. Poor guy gets demoted to one liners in the B-plot whenever Aang is the main focus.

Episode Time!

We start this episode off with a potential love interest for Sokka.

I had completely forgotten that Katara used to have a necklace. I'd also completely forgotten that she'd lost it. When did she lose it?

Aang-o-vision has a pretty heavy rose-tinted filter - literally.

Told you it was a love interest.

The NOISE Sokka makes when the fish slaps him! I love it. Hang on I'm going to rewind and listen to it again.

Yep. Still as good the second time.

Oh wow! Aang just got Momo-zoned. Gotta say I'm not a fan of a romantic relationship between Aang and Katara at this point, so I'm all for some Momo-zonage.

Platypus bear! Finally some hybrid animals. I was beginning to wonder if that would ever come back.

Is this guy a martial arts master or an idiot?

I'm leaning towards idiot.

Friendly reminder of Appa's size. That's a lot of molars. No canines or incisors? Guess he's an obligate herbivore.

Is sniffing eggs something that people do? I get sniffing melons or other produce, but eggs?

Yep. Floppy hat guy is an idiot.

Aang buddy you might want to get that checked out.

And with a mighty squelch, the egg fulfills this episode's Beat Up Sokka quota.

Appa shakes!

Those are weird ducks.

I don't know a thing about anime, but that's the most anime-looking guy I've seen in this show. Is this show an anime?

Meng-o-vision is red-tinted. Probably doesn't bode well.

Also, Meng could give Zuko some lessons on how to style Pipi longstocking hair. Someone with more photoshop skills than me needs to make a Zuko with Meng hair.

"Don't be modest, they're huge!" Presented without comment. I'm not going to say a thing. But we all thought it.

Katara is totally the kind of girl who would fall for fortune telling. We've seen (multiple times) that she is gullible. Actually, now that I think about it, we've had multiple episodes where Katara gets swept up in something a healthy dose of skepticism would have guarded her from - Jet and The Great Divide come to mind. The writers are really hammering the 'Katara is susceptible to romantic nonsense and Sokka is a science-minded skeptic' message home. Is this going to play some bigger part in the show going forward? Why else would we be on version number (arguably) 3 of this same plot?

Aang and Sokka took off their shoes, but Katara didn't. Huh.

Pinky out. Classy.

I am not digging the Aang x Katara stuff in this episode. I'm with Sokka on this one - let's pretend it was a stellar bathroom break.

Aunt Wu is being unnecessarily antagonistic to Sokka. First he gets an egg on his head, then Momo steals his bean puffs, now Aunt Wu tells him his life's going to suck. I should have been more specific when I hoped for a Sokka episode. I didn't mean a beat up Sokka episode.

Aang. Priorities honey. Honestly, Aang casually dismissing his destiny after all that build up did get a laugh out of me.

A god-like figure coming to have his fortune read and only wanting to know about his love life would give me a headache too.

Add malicious signage to the Beating Up Sokka list.

"The fluffy bunny cloud forecasts doom and destruction." I bet that's the first time that sentence has appeared in the English language.

These people are stupid. Blazing Saddles style 'common clay of the New West' stupid. It would take, what, a day? to run a visual check on the volcano. But nope. Too much work. Listen to me I'm morphing into Sokka.

Katara giving off some serious fangirl vibes.

Katara is officially addicted to fortune telling.

Live footage of me watching these village idiots.

Add duck to the list of Things Which Assault Sokka. Gotta love those duck noises though.

Sokka is getting dangerously close to advising negging here. Also Meng deserves better. Her poor pigtails droop in disappointment. Girl has sentient hair - she deserves better.

Papaya? When you don't like papaya? Just because some old lady said so? Too far. That's not even teenage nonsense; that's tweenage nonsense. I kind of feel like sending Katara to her room. Actually it's just like that one line Log Man said in the Jet episode. Something like 'He tells us what to do and how to think and things all turn out right.' Outsourcing your decision-making. Which, by the way, is both nonsense and cult-like. Then again, the lost boys freedom fighters pretty much worshipped Jet the way this village worships Aunt Wu, so... parallels?

So if this guy got the panda lily himself, doesn't that mean that he recently went up the mountain? Couldn't he have had a peak inside while he was up there? Would have taken an extra 20 seconds.

"Flowers are fine once you're married" Somebody get this boy to Victorian times. If he ever sees an ankle he'll self-combust.

You have a flying bison. Why don't you fly up instead of climb?

This is totally live action fire copy-pasted in to the animation. There has got to be a more technical term for that than copy-pasted.

Raise your hand if you saw the twist with the volcano coming. (I did I swear. Blue spirit was an outlier).

Forget Appa, why didn't Aang just fly up?

"They just won't listen to reason." "But they will listen to Aunt Wu." So the mountain comes to Mohammed. I guess talking to people in a way they understand / will listen to is a good lesson for an avatar to learn. I thought he'd learned that one in The Great Divide though. Either way this episode is getting increasingly frustrating.

Can Meng get a hug? She seems astonishingly self-aware and emotionally mature for a kid. Also way too smart for this podunk town. I may rescind the hug in light of the stalking.

Well, it's not exactly subtle, but at least volcanic doom isn't a fluffy bunny.

Look at those yummy purples. Finally an episode where it's light enough to have a beautiful sky. My collection of wallpapers was suffering.

Digging a lava trench might work, if the volcano is going to put out a gallon or two of lava. This must be a baby volcano.

Nevermind.

The ashes effect feels oddly 3-D.

I guess to an avatar this kind of challenge is small potatoes.

Totally ignoring the Aang x Katara stuff for a minute, I'm with Sokka on this one too, because I also had forgotten that Aang is a superbender. He didn't even need to go glowy.

If I lived in this village that redesign would absolutely give me nightmares. Are those mega claws of doom structurally sound?

I am going to punch this man.

Aunt Wu's final speech to Aang makes me think that at least she's not indulging in her own product as it were. I suppose a con artist (whose services are free, so, just jerking around a village for shits and giggles?) is better than an actual believer?

MENG!!!

Final Thoughts

This episode has me thinking about stories. Part of the reason Katara wants to believe in nonsense like fortune telling is because she is someone inclined to listen to / believe in stories. I think the opening monologue of the first episode mentioned something about her grandmother's stories. Katara was raised on stories and very much took them to heart as more than just entertainment. And you can't blame her for believing the conceits of stories could be possible in their world, not after the events of episode one dumped the star of those stories in her lap. Just so long as she doesn't confuse a belief in stories with a belief in happy endings. There is a war going on in their world, and judging by the stuff that the show did not shy away from discussing or implying in episodes like The Southern Air Temple and The Storm, I am willing to bet good money that there will be a couple of unhappy endings ahead. Not permanently unhappy; this is a kids' cartoon. But there will probably be setbacks and disappointments.

Would Katara have astrology nonsense in her dating profile?

"The fluffy bunny cloud forecasts doom and destruction" is going to be incorporated into my daily vocabulary.

Platypus + bear are interesting choices for a hybrid animal, since a platypus is about 15 normal animals smashed together anyway. A platypus bear is the swiss army knife of animals. Or the Mr. Potato Head.

At first I thought that Aunt Wu was a benevolent meddler (see putting together the couple with the panda lily), but she also advised that one guy to never bathe, which doesn't benefit anyone in any way that I can see. So I've concluded that she's a Bumi level ("it's pretty fun messing with people") shit-stirrer instead. Her services may be free, but she manages to pay for a very big house, an assistant in Meng, and anime guy the bodyguard(?) so I guess grateful villagers give her donations? However she's doing it, she's got it made.

There was some sort of running theme with those large blue-billed ducks that lived in the village. If that was meant to have more meaning than just a running visual gag, I didn't pick up on it.

Meng had a surprising amount of depth and insight for what (I assume) is a one-episode character. Stalking aside, I liked her.

This episode's humourous look at the stupidity of the village (in fact the science denial of the village) is not as funny as it would have been in a pre-covid denial, pre-antivax, pre-"global warming is a hoax" world. A shallow viewing of this episode is still funny because the villagers are just SO dumb (except Meng), but the more you think about the villagers' actions and the conclusions they reach at the end of the episode (to not change AT ALL - at least the tribes made up in The Great Divide, a similarly idiot-filled episode), the more you morph into Sokka. These people have denied reality so hard that it's frustrating rather than funny to watch. Their head in the sand approach is not cute anymore.

I really wanted to like this episode. Like I said before, I wanted a goofy fun episode after the one-two punch of the last two episodes, but this one rapidly went from goofy to frustrating. I can't tell if it's because I'm not the target audience (i.e. too adult) or if it's because much of the world is currently drowning in various forms of misinformation and science denial. I know this episode isn't supposed to be deep - it's supposed to be setup for Aang & Katara as a (hopefully very distant) couple. That's all. And the message at the end about shaping your own destiny (i.e. taking an active part in your life) is a good message, and thematically relevant to the avatar, who presumably is at least somewhat responsible for shaping the whole world's destiny. But damn if this episode doesn't make my teeth itch.

Pros: Sokka had some great lines. Appa got to shake. There were pretty backgrounds. The noise Sokka made when he got slapped by the fish was a thing of beauty.

Cons: Aang and Katara are not allowed to date until they're 35. I will smack each villager individually upside the head with a science textbook. Meng deserved better.

Maybe I'm just not in the mood for this episode. I'll stick it on the rewatch list just for the Sokka fish noise.

[crowfootwrites]

Warm Welcome

Day 2 from @creativepromptsforwriting's December Prompt List! I have this fanfic plot bunny of Neelix and a baker falling in love. I'm not in a place to write that whole thing right now, but this felt cute and on-topic, so.

December 2: Baking (Neelix x GN!Reader)

Also, I've written this so that the reader-insert character is Banean, a feathered humanoid species that looks like this:

Warnings: none; not beta'd we die like men. | Words: ~975

As you settled yourself in your new quarters, you found you couldn’t keep your mind off the awful business with Tolen and Lidell Ren. It had opened your eyes to just how cruel the Banean penal system had become as fear and suspicion towards the Numiri grew on your homeworld. Even your lifelong friend Kray had fallen victim to his own distrust, using his power as Minister of Science to deliver a cruel punishment to an innocent man. Kray hadn’t known that Lieutenant Paris was innocent at the time, but that hardly made you feel better. The constant tension and cynicism swallowing Banea whole felt foreign to you, antithetical to everything you were raised to believe in – compassion, exploration, goodwill, trust. You found that you barely recognized your homeworld anymore. 

And so it was time to go. You’d approached Lieutenant Paris and Commander Tuvok before their departure, requesting an audience with the captain. You’d asked her about the prospect of joining Voyager and, as you’d assured her of your ability and desire to learn and become a useful member of their crew, she’d agreed. 

The chime sounded at your door. 

“Come in!” You rose from where you were unpacking the few personal effects you’d brought with you.

The door slid open, revealing a smiling Ensign Kim. 

“Welcome aboard,” he offered. “The captain has asked me to give you a tour and introduce you to some of the crew. Is now a good time?”

You nodded eagerly, ready to try making some friends. 

The ensign towed you around the ship, presenting various departments, decks, and friendly faces in uniform. You made small talk in the corridors and, if you weren’t mistaken, Ensign Kim appeared to be trying to flirt with you. Biting back a grin, you did your best to steer the conversations back to more neutral topics.

As you approached what your companion had identified as the mess hall, a delectable scent wafted through the corridor, stopping you in your tracks.

Following your nose, the ensign allowed you to lead as you entered the mess, revealing a stocky Talaxian male frantically stirring pots and flipping something in flaming pans. 

His eyes and smile widened as he noticed you. He scurried around the corner out of the kitchen to grasp your hand eagerly in his. “You must be our new Banean crew member! Welcome aboard!” He shook your hand firmly, glancing between you and Ensign Kim. “I’m Neelix, I’m the cook here on Voyager – lots of mouths to feed here!”

A burst of flame erupted around one of the pans in the kitchen and with a yelp, Neelix hurried back to it. Grinning amusedly, you followed after him. The heat of multiple cooking sources going at once pressed down on you and you fluttered the feathers around your face to combat it. 

“It smells incredible in here,” you exclaimed, a swell of warm spice and baking bread rolling over you. 

“Thank you!” Neelix replied, whirling around the kitchen confidently, somehow managing multiple pots and pans over the fire, packed chopping boards, and a crammed oven. 

“We have replicators on Voyager,” he continued, stirring a pot that was perilously close to boiling over. “But they’re something of an energy drain, so usage has been rationed, and I run the kitchen to make sure the crew is fed without depleting energy reserves!”

“Seems like a big job,” you commented, your fingers itching to help as Neelix flitted between chopping and flipping and stirring. 

“Oh, completely!” His response sounded cheerful. “But I enjoy it, and it’s my way of contributing to th-” 

“Your bread’s about to burn,” you interjected, wincing as you did. “I apologize,” you added as you made your way toward the oven, grabbing an oven mitt before yanking several loaves out and placing the pans on an overhead rack to cool. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but it was just a few seconds from being too overdone, and I-.” You shook your head, suddenly self-conscious, and backed away.

“I’m sorry, I overstepped. This is your domain, I-I only meant to help.” You lingered near the entrance to the kitchen, your hands wide and open in surrender. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed Ensign Kim was nowhere to be found.

Neelix watched you with wide, kind eyes, not appearing angry in the slightest.

“No, no! I appreciate your help!” He sounded earnest, which soothed some of your embarrassment. “If I may ask… how did you know it was about to burn? You only just arrived.”

You shrugged awkwardly. “By the smell… I used to do a lot of baking on Banea.”

You watched as Neelix’s whole face lit up, his jovial smile erasing the remainder of your uncertainty. He picked up his ladle and resumed stirring the bubbling pot. “You know, I could certainly use a hand in here, if that was something you’d like to do,” he suggested gently. “And aside from birthday cakes, I’m not much of a baker, myself.”

He fixed you with a knowing stare. “I happen to know the crew would appreciate someone to… temper some of my own creations.” He set the ladle back down and wiped his hands on his gaudy apron. “And they would certainly never turn down consistent desserts.”

He held his hand out toward you again, waiting with an eager smile. 

Your confidence bolstered somewhat, you slid your hand into his. “I’d love to help.”

“Wonderful!” After a vigorous handshake, he launched into a monologue about the evening’s dinner and you found yourself good-naturedly cutting in. 

“Back on Banea, I made this pipfruit and roasted leola root cake with parra creme sauce-”

“Leola root? Oh, I’ve always said that leola root is one of the most versatile vegetables in this quadrant. There's no better source of vitamins or minerals!” Neelix raved as he coaxed you back into the kitchen.

[crows-home]

Hello hellooooo I have thoughts about Tiger and Bunny :) below the cut because it's so long lmao. I tried to keep spoilers out of it, for the most part, but this is mainly me talking about things i liked

I really liked the character designs. It's what immediately drew my eye and hooked me when I was just channel surfing and came across it. I was like holy shit!!! Black people drawn super well in an anime!!!! It's something that I wasn't used to, Made my heart sing yk.

I adored the character designs for the most part!! Yeah some of them (barnaby) looked silly, but it really fit their character. It's a superhero anime- I was expecting it!

Oh man, speaking of, I'm such a goner for superhero/ mecha stuff. Some of my favorite franchises growing up were Transformers, Power Rangers, and Tenkai Knights. So when I flipped through channels, saw the heroes in action and the fighting/ animation, my brain went "!!!!!!! Yes!!!" I gushed over Tiger and Barnaby's hero suits, heck, everyone's hero suits. It just scratches an itch in my brain.

I watched the dub, and I thought it was great!! Lots of funny lines and great deliveries :) ("and what's that over there?" "Oh that's. A building." "And that?" "...also.. A building." And "I don't talk like that!" "I dOnt TaLk liKe ThAT!" And God any line where Bunny was crying was just so good. Really pulled on my heart strings even when I wasn't expecting it to) Sure, some of the scenes were corny, but I was expecting it!

The plot was solid, though I can see where some holes might be poked. But there was so much character in every episode, I love the teamwork and the way everyone interacted with each other. And the attention that was placed on their relationships with their families. Even if I wish for more, it's fun to play around with in my head. Like, I'm sure Fire Emblem was a big step forward, in universe, for gay rights and their flirty, flamboyant attitude is the biggest "fuck you" to homophobes. I'm sure Dragon Kid's debut, at 13, caused a commotion about children doing hero work, especially when she's getting hurt so much. I'm sure there's a lot of background politics at play regarding heroes and their sponsors that we don't see. I know a lot of this was left out, because they wanted a story with one plot, because they weren't sure how far this series would go, because it just wasn't as interesting. But oh man, these things have been in my head ever since I watched it. Tiger and Bunny is a fun playground.

(I'm going to be honest, I went in without high expectations for the plot. I was just here for cool fight scenes)

I appreciated the direction they took Karina's crush on Kotetsu. I was really wary at first. She's 15? 16? and he's like 36. If they were going to be pairing up the underage girl with the grown man she had a crush on, I was prepared to drop the whole show and hate it. But no!! The progression was sweet, the way Kotetsu obviously sees her as a daughter, and how Karina evolved into her feelings was just :')

Also. Holy fucking shit. Barnabys entire life just. Put out there, for the whole world to see. I can't imagine the sense of perversion that creates. The world knows his name, his backstory, everything. He no longer has his own life, his own choices. It's ridiculous, and I'm glad he had people there to support him.

UNLIKE KOTETSU JEEZ. Man was getting the short end of the stick at every turn ToT I felt so bad for him every time he tried to hard to be recognized, but also just embarrassed. Give him a break!!!

And. Even before going into this, I knew that people would ship Tiger and Bunny. I've been around the block, I know how this shit goes, especially in these types of shows. Two guys being super close, going on about their friendship and all that, is bound to attract shipping. I wasn't against it!- I was just ready for it, but was mostly planning on ignoring it.

But. Holy shit. It's really all there huh. They're like. in Love Love.

("you're only partners for each other." "You two fight like an old married couple." "we dont need to talk to know what the other is thinking." "you're always making me think about you."

Kotetsu "I wonder how Bunny's doing again" Kaburagi and Barnaby "Have I told you about Kotetsu today yet" Brooks Jr. Neither of you are subtle.)

I'll make another post with some more detailed criticisms and takes, but for now, this is all my brain wants to gush about

[zeroducks-2]

Zero, pls give me the strength to write a filth ass sladick fic. I’ve got the brain worms for one specific abo fic, and I stg, it’s all I can think about rn 😭 do u have any advice for me?? Writing? Motivation? Characterization? 🥺🙏

Of course!

Now I'm of the opinion that writing advice, ALL the writing advice you find online with no exception whatsoever, is totally useless. "Think of the characters this way!", "structure the plot that way!", "motivate yourself going by percentages!" etc - it's not that it's bad pieces of advice, in fact, they're all great suggestions. The issue with them is that creating a story has some technical aspects, but writing is unique to every person.

One of the billion writing advice floating around might be great for you, or maybe all of them work, but maybe not at single one is even vaguely useful, because how you approach writing is strictly personal so if they work on you or not is completely hit and miss.

Therefore what I can tell you is how I work, and maybe you'll find some compatible aspects and it can help you :)

Long post ahead!

Writing & Motivation:

MOST IMPORTANT. Talk about this with someone. DM your beloved mutual, hit your bestie up on discord, annoy me on anon, do whatever you need to talk about this fic. Talk about the plot, how the characters are supposed to be like, what should happen, what world building is in place, how the sex should pan out. "But people will be annoyed!" NO WE WON'T, I PROMISE. I love hearing people's ideas on their next fic, AU, revolutionary plot bunny. I love all of them and I'm not the only one. Talk to us about your fic!

Don't pick a specific time or moment of the day to start writing. You have 20 minutes and then your cousin will be there? It's alright, throw down 30 words in those minutes. You have two hours and you're afraid you'll get in too deep before the dentist appointment? I KNOW IT HURTS but when you're back from the dentist you might be tired, in pain, not motivated anymore. Write when you feel the itch, even on a leaflet with a permanent marker (I normally use my phone's notes if I have no choice). Don't wait for the right moment, the right moment can be any time you want it to be!

Don't plan a shitton of chapters. Plan just one, write that one. "But it's 1k and there isn't even smut!" It's still better than no chapter at all with 0k words isn't it? Write that scene, no matter how short it is. Once it's done admire it, look how beautiful it is. You want to write more now? Great, go ahead! You don't feel like going on with this? It might be time to share your little thing with someone on AO3, on tumblr or IRL! And if writing just that one little chapter satisfied you, that also is okay! Oh wait, you only know what to write for your sex scene, no context? Write that sex scene, the context is right there in your head. If you'll also want to write the context that's fantastic, but start by writing that scene you want to write, don't stress because you need to "get to it". Don't punish yourself with "I can write what I want to write only after 20k words of introduction", that's the perfect recipe to make you drop the fic.

Characterization

Don't be afraid that the characters might be OOC. I promise you no one cares, and the people who care won't click on an ABO fic which maybe is also a Feudal Japan AU with aliens. What matters is the impression of the characters. I'm writing one of the sections of my Omegaverse Royal AU at the moment, and I decided to make it Eobarry! But I have no idea how to write Eobard, he is a real challenge to me - I have an Eobard expert friend who gives me some advice, but still. He's a complex character with a rich history and there isn't much I can do to keep him IC, but the thing is... if I don't write this, there's simply going to be less Eobarry fics to go around. Better if there's one more, even if it's not up to whatever imaginary standard I set with myself, than one less.

Don't be afraid to make the characters act a certain way because it's convenient. This is the exact opposite advice I give when people are writing non-transformative work: When you're writing a story, once you decide that a character is afraid of spiders you need to stick with it and make them afraid of spiders forever, they can't be afraid of spiders only for 1 scene. This does not count for fanfictions. Fanfictions exist for us to have fun, be horny, feel a whole lot of emotions and fulfill the desire to chew on our blorbos like they were squeaky toys. So you want Dick to be afraid of spiders in this fic? It never happened in canon...? Who gives a shit, he is now afraid of spiders. You want to make Slade very good at playing marbles? Cool, he is now a champion marble player for your fic and your fic only. And it doesn't matter if the characters are not consistent and "fall in love too quickly", or if "the sex is not realistic", or if "they should get pregnant like this", or if "there's no way they'd be alright with this situation". None of this crap, nobody gives a damn. You're writing to have fun, not to win a literary prize.

You might write A LOT and then realize you are absolutely unsatisfied with how the story went, because a character did something which set them on a course that you ended up not liking. It's fine! Go back to where the choice was taken and split the fic! Coincidentally, it's something I am doing with my Omegaverse Royal AU (the Sladick part) because I decided I wanted it darker :)

And remember, it's okay to be inspired by other fics. If you take something precisely off another fic you might want to ask permission because it's the polite thing to do, but if for example you find that you write Alpha Slade with a scar on his mating gland because you read that in my fic, that's totally okay! We continuously get inspired by each other, and my beloved writer friends know that I take inspiration from their things! (indeed my Omegaverse Royal AU, because apparently it's the perfect example for everything today, was inspired by the amazing works of anawrites and TheSubtextIs, with their Conflict Resolution and Conquered by Love).

Reach out if you need help, or if you want more specific advice that might be 100% useless! Cheers :D

[lord-squiggletits]

4, 13, 23, 26, 47, 65 :)

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

The first story idea I ever came up with for Transformers/IDW MegOP is a novel idea named "The Blade Called Trust", I literally thought it was going to be my first Transformers fic until the initial concept of Pay Unto Evil came to mind and supplanted it (as I had more/better plot ideas to make an outline).

The main reason I haven't worked on it is because TBCT is intended to be (even when I first conceived it) a magnum opus of IDW MegOP as well as possibly even IDW1 as a whole. It's not just gonna be megop-centric, but it's also going to be me picking and choosing my favorite parts of IDW1 and remixing them into my own fic that's basically an "alternate continuity" of sorts. Though not a fix-it fic so much as as it is a love letter to IDW1, making my own version of it but also paying homage to all of the coolest parts of it IMO.

As such, it's a super mega intense project that I need to do another read of IDW1 so that I can refresh myself on the lore, favorite characters, plotlines/themes I would've liked to see more of, etc. And THEN I can make a proper outline for it, and once that happens I'm home free to actually start writing.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

idk how to answer this one so I'm just gonna say N/A lkdsfklds

23. how do you deal with writers block?

Cry into my friends' DMs lamenting the limitations of my mortal form and why it is I can't be 100% creative and energized all of the time (not joking, my hubris is real bad). Suffer and wait for it to be over. Get really depressed about it. Usually focus on my other hobbies (gardening, sewing) while I wait for the writing juice to come back.

26. do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?

I don't have a preference. If an idea is meant to be a one-shot, I'm happy to write it as a one-shot. If it's meant to be a series/multichapter, likewise. I think being able to write a one-off piece that scratches some brain itch idea I had in my mind is just as good as an idea that takes multiple chapters/pieces to fully realize.

47. what story are you most proud of?

NOOOOO DON'T ASK ME TO BE PROUD OF MYSELF NOOOOO

Somewhat surprisingly I think it's actually An Endless Form Most Beautiful. I reread that fic somewhat recently trying to motivate myself to finish chapter 10, and holy absolute fuck. Past me was a genius writing it. The pacing is perfect. The slow tension and reveal of OP's backstory is also perfect. The romance between OP and Megatron feels natural and develops in a very deep way throughout the fic, centered on them developing trust and sharing their deepest thoughts/fears/goals/affirmations to each other. Impactor is an amazing secondary protagonist whose platonic love for Megatron hits just as hard as the main romantic plot between Orion and Megatron. The recurring themes of community, friendship, love, and collective support are CONSTANT and reinforced by basically everything that happens in the plot. Past me was a genius. I don't understand why I was so worried about the romance feeling unnatural/rushed or the themes being poorly represented.

I don't really like to compare my longfics to each other since I think each is different, but I think the entirety of AEFMB has thematic strength comparable to the epilogue chapters of Pay Unto Evil. Everything is so tightly knit together, but instead of PUE where the themes of mercy/restorative justice were basically an emotional payoff for a long story of suffering and hard choices, AEFMB's themes are a long, slow burn that keep the reader warm throughout the length of the fic, giving it a much more optimistic feeling.

That being said I'm also really proud of Pay Unto Evil for being the first novel-length story I've ever completed. And also for the fact that people keep leaving me comments saying how deeply the story impacted them or made them cry or gave them hope in happy endings.

65. what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written? 

Pay Unto Evil is probably my favorite, given how succinctly it summarizes the theme of the entire fic. When you first pick it up, I imagine some readers might take "pay unto evil" to be phrased as a sort of declarative statement, an implication that this fic is going to be about karma and people getting what they deserve based on their past actions. But then you read on through the fic all the way to the end (or you already recognize/know the Bible verse the title is stolen from) and realize the actual plot/theme is quite the opposite.

It's a short, catchy, clever, deceptive (if you don't know the original quote it came from), insightful (if you do know the original quote) and meaningful title all in one. Technically a fic title only needs to make some kind of sense to be "good," but it's always nice as a writer when you find that title that's a real ZINGER, as clever and profound as something that would be published as an actual great work of literature.

But also, shout out to one of my Tarnma one-shots little death because even though it's quite a generic/cheesy title (everyone knows that "little death" is based on a French euphemism for orgasming sdlfdjlsk), it feels really fitting for how cheesy and romantic Pharma and Tarn are for each other in that fic, as well as the fact that Pharma having sparkplay done on him via Tarn's voice literally is flirting with death in a way. Thus, little death.

Other shout-outs: Love's Harvest, Of Tides Inevitable, and the joke titles of the one-shot Not According to Plan leading to a sequel fic called Exactly According to Plan. Besides that I literally get most of my fic titles from stealing song lyrics and/or lines of poetry so lmao 😂😂😂

[chaoticquill]

Now accepting…

Fluffy requests for Chuuatsu. (I will consider spicy ones from 18+ folks). We all know I tend to write AUs, but canonverse is also fine. Hoping to keep the fics short. Y’all know how my plot bunnies are.

I am just itching to write them but lacking ideas. Happy to give credit for the asks by gifting the fic or mentioning you in the intro over on AO3. Just let me know.

Asks, comments, or messages all work if anyone has requests (though I’d prefer the 18+ ones in my messages just for safety purposes since I have followers who are minors).

Thanks muchly, Chuuatsu crew!

[howisjoostfanfictionforfree]

Twice as Many Shadows

Joost Klein x Vampire!reader

Real person fiction!

CW: 18+, MDNI, RPF, getting roofied, attempted sexual assault, body horror, reference to violence against animals, cannibalism, no smut yet sorry (that’s in part 2 heehee), obligatory club scenes, countless other cliches, please let me know if I’ve forgotten anything

Reader: vampire!reader, female!reader, not descriptive with reader’s appearance but I did give them a bit of personality and a backstory that I hope does not detract from the ability to self insert,,,, yeah I may have gone too hard on backstory

Other notes: Story takes place October 2022,,,,Also big thanks to my irl bestie for his help identifying stray plot bunnies and big thanks to @joosthead for always encouraging me and giving me so much advice over time when it comes to writing! You’re amazing!!!

Word count: ~5,900

Real person fiction! Beware! 👻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been so many places over the past few years but Amsterdam is a first.

The Netherlands club scene tickles you and Amsterdam is the center of it all. Bouncing from city to city and country to country has kept you sane but this place has you pausing for the first time in what feels like forever.

The energy of summer saturated the nightlife when you arrived and parties raged until the dawn. Festival season was loud and unignorable but even the mainstay clubs and bars were full to bursting for months on end. Anywhere a body could fit there was a party to accommodate.

Even now as long warm nights turn crisper and darker as summer turns to autumn, the Dutch party on and you find yourself carried away by the momentum they never seem to lose.

It’s easy to stay. Maybe it's just been long enough since you started all this that you feel like you can breathe normally. Maybe you're just far enough away.

Maybe it really is just something about Amsterdam.

You’re growing attached to this place. You dread the day you will have to leave.

He catches your eye at the club. You notice him first, of course. Can hear him from clear across the room despite the bone-rattling music and hundreds of other people.

It’s a Friday night and you itch to be among the crowd. Close enough to feel like one of them and share in their moment. You wish it were yours. You will make it yours too, just like always. 

Something about the exact way he looks and the exact way he speaks to his group of friends is so striking you couldn't ignore him if you tried. He jokes with an open affection that just shouldn't be possible in words chosen so crass and shouted so loud. Never have you heard ‘cancer dick’ sound like an endearment. 

He is so yellow and pink and blue. Your three new favorite colors. Golden hair almost luminescent under the black lights. Cheeks as pink as his flashy jacket. Eyes bluer than the toxic looking drink in his hand.

You couldn't say whether or not he is conventionally handsome. The sight of him immediately fills a space in your brain you didn't know existed like a lock and key and bowls over your pre-existing notions of the word.

Every part of his face fits in perfect proportion to the rest in a way you have never seen and it has you floored.

There's nothing unusual about it, nothing you can put your finger on, just something absolutely entrancing. 

He isn't just beautiful either. That perfect face is radiating an attitude like no one else in the room. No one else looks as happy, as carefree, as genuinely joyous. You can hear it in his words, see it in how he dances like he doesn't care who is watching. You can tell he doesn't. 

How long has it been since you felt such strong attraction? It makes you stupidly nostalgic for how simple things like this might have been when you were human.

You could have flirted with him, danced with him, maybe even taken him home, gotten his number in the morning.

Now, he is everything you want, everything you want to be, and most definitely everything you can't have. 

Not like that at least. He wouldn't have you. 

He catches your gaze from across the floor. Yeah, you probably are staring aren’t you. But you don’t look away. One perk of your creature status is a much increased ability to not give a fuck. Even when you really really should. His eyes rove over you and his face breaks into what you would call a smirk. 

You want to see it fall as you bite a chunk out of him. 

Okay, time to leave. Better get out of here before you do something weird. Turning away, you weave through the crowd. You feel his eyes on you the whole way out.

Literally. Vampires can do that. 

The itch of his gaze evaporates as you step out the door and reach for a cigarette. Disgusting but necessary. Perfect for blotting out all the people-smells that you’re suddenly having a harder time than usual ignoring.

The first drag is fucking toxic but it’s immediately easier not to focus on the cocktail of male sex hormones the club atmosphere provided. You wonder which are his of the dozens dancing on your tongue. 

The overlap between sexual attraction and the urge to hold someone between your jaws still surprises you sometimes. Of course it isn’t always about sex. You could want to eat someone you hated just as bad. Most often it’s a complete stranger.

It’s like squares and rectangles. You might not think about fucking someone every time you need blood, but every time you do want to fuck, you also want to sink your teeth in. 

If you’re being honest though, this observation is based on fairly brief encounters with fairly drunk men. In reality, you haven’t gotten any in a while. Years in fact. Literal monster behavior seems to be a bit of a turn off for most men and sexy encounters always end the moment you get a good few gulps in and their struggling makes you start to feel guilty. 

You sigh. This is far from the first time you’ve wondered at this particular predicament. Why can’t a girl get some?

You flick the butt to the ground and grind it out with your heel. It’s about time to head home. You came out to have fun and you don’t actually need to feed right now. Even if you did, it would probably go poorly given the mood you’re in. 

You don’t have the archetypical problem of killing people when you feed, not that you’ve never killed anyone, but the trauma level for whichever poor person you choose on a given night can vary greatly depending on your state of mind and right now you’re feeling a little worked up. It might be more bloody than usual. 

Ideally, it’s always drunk people you feed on, as fucked up as that sounds, in the end they usually remember less. That or sleeping people.

God. So much noncon. 

But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Blood banks actually ask a lot of questions and you’ve never felt like trying to intimidate a doctor into faking a condition for you, too afraid of catching their interest and becoming a science experiment.

There aren’t any vampires you've met yet that could point you in a helpful direction either. You never even got to know the vampire that turned you. 

The exact circumstances of your metamorphosis were actually a bit of a mystery. You had no memory of being bitten.

One night you came-to in the middle of the street, blocks away from where you should have been, shoulder bloody, and within the hour you were crawling out of your skin as you transformed. 

Outwardly, you looked no different, but that night your senses shifted and heightened and your bones and muscle tore apart and regrew stronger in far too short a time. 

It was a good thing you had been alone. You had been with your friends before. It was a girls night out catching the newest Spiderman in theaters.

Sitting there on the pavement, blood seeping into your shirt, you knew there was something off and you stumbled home without finding them. 

When you arrived you realized you were more than just in shock. It hurt. Everything hurt. You should have gone to the hospital. But how could you have known?

It came on fast.

By the time you knew there was something really wrong, you were too weak to make it anywhere in your agony. Too weak to even make it to your phone in your coat pocket hanging on the door. 

In the end, you are glad no one got to witness what happened. What you are sure would have been beyond explanation. The sight of your own flesh writhing under your skin is unforgettable. The tiles of the kitchen floor where you collapsed took days to clean. 

The only thing that kept you from totally freaking out in the moments afterward was the insane thought that maybe you had become Spiderman. As stupid as that sounds.

Not that you were a hero or anything.

That much was clear from the beginning when you stumbled outside to rip into the dog in the yard across the street after realizing you could hear your neighbors through the wall and it was making your mouth water. 

Dogs are disgusting. At least it didn’t die. 

You still watch Spiderman now and then on the days you're feeling a tad existential. Honestly, you wish you could be Spiderman. You don’t really know what you are.

Your heart still beats and you definitely don't sparkle, but your canines are extendable and people really do look delicious sometimes. You feel the need to feed on people but no one you've ever fed on has turned. You checked.

It would be nice if whoever bit you had stuck around to talk it out. In the end, vampire just seemed like the best word for it. 

Never mind the flesh eating part. 

What were you saying? Oh yeah, if you try and find someone drunk enough to not notice a little bite right now, you might accidentally decapitate them. A slight exaggeration, but still. 

The worn cobblestones glitter under the amber lamplight as you make your way down the street towards the tram stop, still thinking about that perfect face.

The breeze carries a real hint of chill now, letting go of the last traces of your favorite summer since you started all this.

The shadows on the water are deeper than you remember ever seeing them. They creep up over the edges of the canals to fill the street and swallow the alley you turn down. 

You make it only a few feet before a group of guys round the opposite corner and take up the entire width of the passage.

Even with the knowledge that they would ultimately move to the side, you don’t want to deal with the urges they might inspire in such a tight space. Not right now.

Somehow you’re only feeling more and more keyed up.

Making a quick decision, you turn around to head back the way you came. The thumping of the bass becomes detectable as you near the club again, rattling you physically to match your internal agitation. 

You round the corner to try going up the other street this time and collide harshly with the exact person you had been looking to get away from. 

What was even the point of being a vampire if you couldn’t avoid clumsy moments like these?

 You take a step back as you raise your hands up slightly in a placating gesture. 

“Het spijt me,” you say trying to dodge around him quickly as his scent absolutely floods your senses. 

Fuck, he smells good. 

The general mixed smells of horny male in the club had been enough when looking at him before, but here and now, you realize you are in real trouble. The way he smells itches something deep in you. You want to fuck him. You also want to bite him. Hard.

Go now. Leave.

He spins as if to follow you as you skirt around him. 

“No problem! Hey I saw you earlier, are you leaving already?” He says in perfect English. He must think you’re a tourist. Technically, you kind of are. 

“Is my accent that bad?” you say, pausing in step to look at him. 

What the fuck are you thinking. You need to go right now. 

He grins. ”Haha, yes a little.” 

You can’t help yourself. You can tell he’s teasing. He was charming before from all the way across the room and he’s just as charming right now. All blond fluff and cheekbones and effortless charisma. You turn to face him fully.

“Well, yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you say carefully. 

He leans in a little, opens his mouth to say something else, but stops dead when he sees what must be your eyes turning pitch black. 

You feel the subtle tug as it happens. The proximity to something so fucking potent as he leans forward pushes you over an edge you didnt even know was there. You’re literally engaging night vision like you’re going to hunt him or something. Ridiculous. You haven't had this problem in years. 

“Fuck!” he stumbles back. “Your eyes! A-Are you…….What!?” 

You’re still just standing there and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. For as much as pop culture loves the supernatural, no one is ever actually prepared to encounter it.

You can tell he isn’t drunk enough to forget what he’s seeing right now but once again you don’t care like you probably should.

You allow your gaze to flit from his shocked stare down to his lips and then, after a moment, to his throat. When you look up again, it’s obvious he’s blushing. His eyes have become so dark they could rival your own if it weren't for the sclera.

Less than a second later, the smell of his arousal hits you.

What the fuck?

It stirs you more intensely than you thought possible and you know it's now or never. Leave or absolutely traumatize this beautiful stranger. 

You summon all your willpower and turn tail and run.

You don’t even try to conceal your speed. It's dark enough and the risk has to be taken if you stand any chance of getting far enough away to save the situation by the time that willpower runs out. 

Besides, he’s already seen you. 

By the time you reach your street you’re panting. God, that was like four kilometers. Whatever fresh Twilight bullshit that says vampires never run out of stamina is just wrong. You may have done it in a nice neat ten minutes but still, that was rough.

The burning in your chest has you feeling decidedly less sexy and you walk the rest of the way home. 

Home was a small apartment you had found on the edge of the city where you could afford to not have a roommate and the landlady let you pay month by month instead of signing on for a whole year. It was always hard finding places like that.

In the few months you had been there not one of your neighbors was especially loud or smelly or nosey and you counted it a lucky find. It was a perfect spot really, and you were glad it was within your budget.

You had been working remote for the duration of your worldly travels. Even if things got tight sometimes, it was a good enough paying job and you wouldn't trade it for anything since it allowed you to move around when you wanted.

After your great murderous fuck-up back home, you had found it was very soothing to be out of country, even if you were sure no one was onto you. 

It would be pretty hard to pin anything on you with no body.

As far as you know, the poor guy is still considered missing. Well, you say ‘poor guy,’ but the guy was kind of an asshole. You had never been drugged before, but you could tell for him it was a practiced routine.

The horror of the night started at the bar at the local theater. Not a place you had thought to be on your guard. Mere months after your transformation, you were there with a few friends in full costume to catch this month's performance of Rocky Horror.

It was intermission and you were all milling about refilling drinks and stretching your legs and fighting to fit as many people at once into the lone photo booth in the corner. The bar was small and you did not expect to stop there for longer than it took to get a new beer. 

He came up next to you, too close from the get-go considering there was no one else standing there, and made conversation while he had you captive waiting for your drink.

He wasn’t from around there, was visiting he said, and wanted to know what people do for fun. You could tell he really meant he wanted to know what fun he could have with you.

As forward as he was, it wasn't unusually pushy and you were ultimately unbothered when you broke away to find your friends. You never even saw how he managed to dose you. 

You never found your friends.

You don’t even remember how you made it to his car. 

One minute you were walking back to your seat and the next, you were outside. It was cold. Someone was carrying you bridal style.

You were pretty out of it for a good minute. Not sure how long exactly, but long enough that when you started processing things again, you were pulling up by the side of the road near a cow pasture.

He clearly thought you were still out of it because he removed his hand from your thigh, cut the engine, and got out to go around to open your door without a word. 

God knows what he had in mind for you that night, but you never found out because as it happens, he was right, you were still kind of out of it. Not like he had intended, your metabolism already working through a dose surely meant to incapacitate, but you were still loopy enough that logic was miles away and a cold and creeping dread began to fill you as you realized your situation.

The inability to think clearly, though it was getting better with each second, was only more agitating. 

It didn't even occur to you at the time that he stood no chance, that this was all ridiculous. You had been different for too short a time back then.

He was a threat, and one way or another you were about to respond. 

He opened your door. 

You had never felt the kind of fear-panic-rage before that you did in that moment. 

You were up in a flash as soon as he opened it wide enough and dragged him with you into the field.

Your strength was unexpected and his last words were no more than a surprised shout before you ripped his throat out and drank.

Each time he thrashed, the panic fought to overwhelm you and you drank faster to quiet him. He couldn't hurt you if you made him stop moving. 

When he ran dry, the panic-rage still burned and it seemed only natural to take a bite. A real bite. You had to make sure he stopped. 

So you did. 

And then another bite. 

And another and another and before you knew it, he had no head. 

Then, he had no arm and then soon, he only had a leg. 

The only thing you didn’t eat was his clothes. 

When light started to creep over the horizon, you finally came out of your state. You felt both calm and horrified. The threat was gone, but you also didn’t know you could do that. Where did it all go? Forget the size of your stomach, your entire body couldn’t have fit his inside of it. 

It was a little startling at the time. 

You burned his clothes and drove his car to the bottom of a lake. It might have been enough, probably was, but after that you didn’t stick around long to find out.

All this was to say that you enjoyed where you were now. It had been a good couple of years and you were now only vaguely disturbed about your latent abilities. You had even gotten back to the point where you were going back to bars and clubs again!

There was a time when you stayed away after that. You had been slow to return to enjoying nightlife after all you had been through, but Berlin had done wonders in that department and Amsterdam only solidified it. There was something about the Dutch brand of party that made you feel alive.

Tonight put a slight damper on that feeling of progress though. You’re not sure what you would have done to that guy if you hadn't left that very second.

Even if the situation was entirely different, it was the first time since that disastrous night that you have felt so out of control.

You can’t say you felt particularly murderous but you did want to hurt him in ways that make you blush a little now as you trudge up the steps to your door and wrestle with your keys. 

Ugh. You can never repeat that night. 

You will have self control. 

You do have self control. 

Mostly. 

You should just calm down already. As you bolt the door and slip off your shoes, you resolve to make tea and forget about it. Besides, you didn’t really do anything and no one will ever believe him. 

The next day finds you completely normal and you spend your time working. You had a good night's sleep all things considered.

It’s such a good thing that vampires can sleep. Sure, maybe you would get more done if you didn’t, but honestly you think you would go crazy. You love your comfy little nest and you love turning your brain off. It needed to be turned off after that encounter. 

By next week, the entire thing is forgotten (filthy lie) and you feel like it is high time for another visit to the club. Boredom is killer and you can't resist anyways. Last time was surely a one-off.

You do yourself up and make your way downtown. 

The street lamps reflect off the water and the countless neon signs of bars and restaurants give the streets an ethereal glow despite the shadows, deep as ever.

They scatter in every direction, multiplying in protest of the city lights and gathering themselves to obscure every corner.

The pounding bass spills out the door of every club you pass and the carefree Friday night energy of every person wandering the streets is tangible. 

Amsterdam is so awesome. 

You purposefully choose a new spot you found on Instagram, hoping to avoid running into him again.

You’ve never been big on social media, but ever since your life took you on the road it became critical to your navigation of the world. It took some getting used to, especially with no one in your life to ask more than superficial questions, but you figured it out. 

It still startles you occasionally just how non tech-savvy you can be. It’s not usually an issue but when you forget how to convert file types or struggle to navigate online forums you can't deny you’re a little behind the curve. Honestly, you might as well be a vampire from the 17th century not the 21st. One hidden away in a decaying manor far from modern technology. 

An exaggeration, but it really feels that way sometimes. 

You often pat yourself on the back for learning how to use the software necessary to do your job. Your career hadn’t required it of you before and it was only due to the fuckass pandemic that it had become an option. Now that you had the tech down it was very convenient to be able to do your job virtually.

That had been one of your biggest concerns in the beginning. How were you gonna fund your life on the run if you had to constantly search for new employment? 

When you get to the club it is delightfully similar to the photos and you spend your evening rotating between dancing your ass off and people-watching from the side when the smells and jostling get a little too exciting.

Yes, the club is exciting. The right amount this time around. You feel like a real young adult. You give yourself another pat on the back for your foray into normalcy.

It’s a smaller club on Lange Leidsedwarsstraat. By no means tucked away, but far enough from Leidseplein main square that there are far fewer tourists.

The ice is starting to melt in your drink. You can’t be bothered with it when there is so much to look at.

There can't be more than a hundred people crammed in this tiny renovated warehouse but they manage to sport a variety of fashion and dance styles. Inevitably, you spot hakken amongst them. The tangle of decks and mixers on the small raised stage is huge and the lone DJ operating it all glows in alternating colors as lights strobe from behind to scatter over the crowd.

You work your way out of the corner and back onto the dance floor again. The upbeat song playing now hits just the right vibe for how you’re feeling. 

Doe de Fryslân bop

Wist je niet dat ik van Fryslân kom?

Dude, doe de Fryslân bop

Blaas het op als een fietsbandpomp

You bop along for a minute as the song demands and notice a group of several people shouting along much louder than everyone else. They seem to know every word.

One of them facing away from you turns in place as he dances and suddenly you’re locking eyes with the exact same guy. 

Jesus Christ, what are the odds. 

Well, maybe not terrible odds if you consider he’s probably a local. 

But still. Goddammit. 

His face instantly lights up and it would be kind of cute if you weren’t panicking. Those baby blues pack a punch. What happened to not giving a fuck?

Before you can move a single muscle to make your retreat, he is surging towards you through the crowd and  o h   s h i t   you did not expect that.

You thought he’d be running too. Even if he had been surprisingly horny in the face of inhuman eyes, you figured the freakish speed there at the end would have been enough to spook him.

Shocked, you fail to stop him from grabbing your wrist like he can tell you’re gonna make a break for it again. Vampire reflexes who? You open your mouth to protest but before you can say anything he leans in and bites your shoulder.  

What.

WHAT?

You realize you’re shouting it as he pulls away laughing. 

“Fancy seeing you here!” He is way too happy.

“You bit me!”

“Are you gonna bite me back?” 

“What!?”

“C’mon, I know you want to.” The way he waggles his eyebrows should not be attractive. It is.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’ve watched enough tv to know a bloodsucker when I see one.” He looks stupidly smug.

“Yeah, tv. You should probably stop watching so much.”

“Your eyes were beautiful y’know.” You feel your own heart stutter.

“I think you had too much to drink.”

“Please, that was not drunk at all, you should have seen how we ended the night!”

“Yeah, you definitely were. But you’re joking, right? You should know most girls aren’t into roleplay right off the bat.” Maybe you can embarrass him into leaving you be. 

He scoffs and brings his other hand to the back of your head so he can pull you in as he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Why did you run?”

You can tell he’s deliberately holding your face close to his throat and god damn him, you know what he is trying to achieve and it works. This close to the source, the other smells of the club can’t run interference.

His presence is just as overwhelming as the first time and the smell of his skin and the thump of his heart is so close now you can’t help your reaction once again.

You feel the familiar tug behind your eyes and the shadows of the room start to melt away. The little silver chain sitting against his clavicles snaps into perfect definition.

He pulls away to gauge your reaction, the sly motherfucker, but his grin melts into stupefied wonder when he sees exactly what he had hoped for. 

“There it is.” He whispers. His heart is beating harder than ever and his scent rushes forward to envelop you even though you are no longer pressed to his neck. He smells like adrenaline. He smells like arousal.

You pout as he drinks you in. He pulled a fast one on you. 

Realizing he’s still holding your wrist, you flex in warning. He grips tighter like he’s afraid to let you go.

“C’mon, I’m not gonna go around gathering a mob with torches and pitchforks, what’s the big deal?”

You hold his gaze. You remember very well what the big deal is. What you are capable of when emotions are this high. He has you feeling something, alright.

But, you have to admit, even though everything about his presence is sending you into the stratosphere, it is nothing like that night. This feeling, albeit intense, is a good one. 

When was the last time someone talked to you like this? After seeing what you were? Never. Maybe you overreacted before. Maybe you can control yourself. As much as you want to rip into his shoulder you're not doing it. You‘re enjoying looking at him too much.

He really is beautiful.

Right now it doesn't feel like you're in danger of a big deal 2.0. Just maybe something equally stupid.

“You know I’ll have to kill you if you out me right?” You look over at the rest of his group where they are still dancing. 

His eyes widen at your indirect confirmation- you are a vampire. His grip becomes stiff and you finally get a whiff of fear. Good. Even if you’re lying, he should know who he’s dealing with. 

He stutters a bit, “I-I told some of my friends I saw something crazy, but they don’t believe me I swear! They just think I was drunk! Like you said!” 

God, he’s outing himself already. He’s so lucky you’re not actually evil. You just laugh and begin swaying to the beat again. You break his hold on your wrist effortlessly now, just a hint of real strength, so you can grab his hand instead. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. Dance with me?”

Even in the low lighting of the club, you can tell with your shifted vision how hard he’s blushing. In spite of his fear, he smells like he’s ready to fuck you pregnant. 

God, he’s a freak. 

You love it.

He acquiesces after a stunned moment and begins to bounce along with you. After a minute, you see him start mouthing the lyrics and it strikes you again how well he seems to know them. 

“A favorite of yours?” you say. 

”I wrote it!” he exclaims, leaning in. “You like?” 

“Did you really?” You are genuinely skeptical.

He scoffs. “I did! I am huge Netherlands artiest, don’t you know Joost Klein? Also, I know the DJ so he plays my stuff.” You hear humor in his voice but you don’t know what part is a joke.

Joost Klein. Huh. You have never heard that name in your life.

“Wow, I feel so lucky to meet a celebrity.” You bat your eyes at him.

He clocks your bullshit immediately.

“Really! I can show you my stuff! Come to my studio and I’ll show you what I’m working on!” 

You smirk. You are really dancing quite closely now. 

“Wow I dunno, I never usually let boys show me their stuff on the first date.”

He chokes out a laugh “So this is a date huh?” his hands are on your waist now.

“I don’t know yet” You say. “Dance with me some more.” 

Because you are insane, you turn around and lean up against him. The music is a little slower and heavier now than the alt-pop rap playing before. Joost gets the message immediately and soon you’re grinding to the beat. Already, you can feel his bulge against your ass.

You let yourself get lost in the rhythm of the music and the feeling of him against you. It's easy to lose time when his scent and his touch surround you like this. You could almost forget the itch in your canines. 

His head bows and his lips skim your shoulder where he bit you. What a strange sensation. A role reversal. You still can't believe he did that. For a minute, you feel strikingly human.

You arch up into him and let your head fall back against his chest. His lips move up to your ear and he asks, “Can I have your number?” You twist yourself back around to face him. 

It’s getting harder not to just kiss him. 

You maintain eye contact for a minute, his gaze searching yours.

Without breaking the stare-down, you reach into his pocket oh-so-slowly and pull out his phone, offering it to him.

He is starting to look a little crazed but he breaks the eye contact to look down and open it for you. You punch in your number when he turns it to you and slide it back into his pocket, just as slowly. 

Hooking a finger into his belt loop, you look up at him under your lashes. Joost looks like he doesn’t know whether to fuck you now or fuck you later. If he can wait to get you home.

You don’t let him deliberate. 

Leaning up, you ghost your lips over his. “See you soon.” 

And with all the stupid supernatural guile you can muster, you sink backwards into the crowd and disappear. The last glimpse you catch of his face is one of outrage. 

You laugh all the way down the street. 

A side street without lamps lends the shadows you need for cover as you give it just a bit of a speed boost in case he gets the idea to go looking for you again. Lord knows you’ve bumped into him enough times now that he might think to try it. 

You aren’t even to the end of the street before you get a text.

        +31 06 5337496:  y r u so mean to me ( ｰ̀εｰ́ )

          +31 06 5337496:  when will you come to my studio?

          +31 06 5337496: ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

You're still not sure what he really means by studio. Maybe it was a joke for his apartment. A studio apartment? Or maybe he really does make music. That would be fun. Not that you know much about Dutch music. Or Dutch. You sigh. It’s a process. 

Saving his number you write back.

        cap

          I am not mean

          had to get out of there before you turned full blood-                 

          sucker on me biting my shoulder like that

          Tuesday? 

The dot-dot-dot pops up and goes away no less than seven times before he finally replies.

          Joost:  (/>w<)/ yayyyy can’t wait!!

           Joost:  meet me at 16 Schimmelstraat at 14:00 :333

You can't help but snort at the way he texts. Definitely a funny guy. You have such good taste. 

It took him quite a while to respond compared to the speed at which he first texted you. You might be technologically illiterate, but even you know that means Joost had to think about something a little harder.

He does seem to get flustered by everything vampiric. Oh this was going to be so much fun.

On the other hand, Joost might just be a slow texter. 

You know where you would place your bet. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!! Sorry for the atrocious amount of backstory. I didn't realize what I’d done until it was too late (and I didn’t want to rewrite). I promise the next one will be more Joost-centric interaction and less boring exposition. Btw this series will include smut! Yay!!

[purplesurveys]

1647

so how are you today? Man you caught me at just the right time. Everyone is being fucking annoying. My mom has refused to talk to me and my siblings since Wednesday for reasons only she would know – the only difference now is that we’re all grown and have stopped seeking her validation, so we don’t actually care for this tantrum from a 50-year-old and are just more annoyed than anything lmao. Angela and Reena also for some reason are also being testy so I’ve had no choice but to bite back. Anyway, the only person I can tolerate right now is my sister and I’ve turned off my phone and kept it out of reach for the entire day, cos all I want to do and have to do is to cool down and get away from everyone eugh.

do you like to eat eggs? I like eggs but I get easily tired of the taste if the serving is too much in one meal. Something about it I can never get enough of, though, is when the yolk is runny.

when was the last time you had a cup of tea? It was in like December 2021 when the company gave a tea set as a gift for everyone and I decided to give tea a chance. (Didn’t work.)

do you have a tapestry in your bedroom? Nope.

have you ever been to London? I haven’t.

do you enjoy going to the library? I love libraries and wish we had more public ones...98% of the libraries we have are under schools, sooooo not super accessible. Another thing about libraries – I wish people went to actually read! Or otherwise, look for new things to read! Or discover genres they might not even know they’d love! Everrrrryone just goes to libraries for a quiet place to work and while that’s not wrong, it does kinda bum me out a bit...I wish people would have a deeper reason to go to libraries, and dare I say a deeper appreciation for them.

if you went to NYC (or if you’ve been) what are your favorite things to do there? I haven’t been, but I have two main things on my agenda when I land there – one is to go to ALL the museums New York could possibly offer me; the other is pizza.

who’s the most recent person on your Facebook feed? (if you have it) I am annoyed by people today and don’t feel like checking Facebook now lmao.

when (if ever) was the last time you saw that person? –

do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? Nah, we used to have one though.

can you play the violin? Nopes.

what’s the last movie you watched? Decision to Leave, but I didn’t finish it.

did you enjoy this movie? The cinematography and editing weren’t anything I’ve ever seen before and were both amazing; but plot-wise it was a challenge to keep me interested because I don’t like mystery and murder plots to begin with.

what store or website would you most like a gift card for? Nike.

how do you feel about wolves? Wouldn’t know how to manage one in real life.

what’s something you’re looking forward to? Spending the rest of this day alone and unbothered.

name your top 3 favorite musical instruments? To listen to? Piano, violin, saxophone.

what was the last book(s) you bought at a bookstore? Not an exact answer, but I very nearly picked up a copy of Saul Hofileña Jr’s Under the Stacks a month ago and stayed AGES at the bookstore thinking if I could afford to drop ₱900 on a book. Ultimately I decided against it but I’ve been itching to go back for it ever since. Books that compile essays about anything and everything social history are super hard to come by, and that beauty of a book does exactly that; I just have to gather budget for it first, lol.

does the song you’re listening to/last heard evoke any emotion for you? Not really. I like how vicious of a punch it gives in the lyrics, but it’d probably be too much of a reach to say it changed my life.

do you use pinterest? Mainly for work since I do a lot of event pitching and planning, and always need Pinterest for pegs and mockups.

are you wearing earrings? Nopes.

if so, describe them: I’m not wearing anything but thanks for reminding me that I really need to start investing in some good clip-ons.

do you know any sign language? Just basic phrases and most letters of the alphabet. 

have you ever seen the musical Ragtime? Never even heard of it.

do you have a favorite poem? Not really, I’m not a big fan of poems.

do you like Indian food? Crazy for it. It’s my favorite cuisine and it’s been so long since I’ve had it that it almost feels illegal.

describe your favorite scarf, if you have one: None; I never need them unless I’m flying out to a really cold country.

do you have a dog? Yeah, I have two of them.

have you ever read the Little House on the Prairie series? Sounds familiar but no, I don’t think I ever have.

do you have any homework? I’ve got work I should be doing, but I cannot be assed to do that anymore on weekends. The days of Fired-Up-Corporate-Slave-Robyn-Who-Can-Work-Weekends have long been laid to rest.

have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? I already live in an underprivileged country lol, but yes – when I was in private school we did use to do visits and interactions and such with underprivileged groups and help with everyday tasks in their community.

do you need to do laundry? No.

do you enjoy going out for breakfast? Not really, mainly because I hate heading out at a really early hour. What I like to do instead is to go to restaurants that serve all-day breakfast so I can have it regardless of the time of day.

have you ever performed in front of more than 100 people? Sure.

do you like muffins? Just the chocolate chip type.

when (if ever) was the last time you went to church? This morning.

have you ever heard the singer Audra McDonald? Yeah I used to have a friend who was obsesseddddddddd with Private Practice and as far as I know she was on that show.

[whimsicallyreading]

Write Me- Outtake

A little plot bunny for the Write Me Au

CW- Mentions of PTSD, Trauma, War

Write Me (part one)

Rowan~

Therapy was a necessary evil, Rowan soon found out.

He spent an hour, twice a week, cooped up with a stranger who tried to coax his feelings from him. He'd never been an emotive person. Aelin was the rare exception, the one person he'd always gravitated to when something itched at him. She was always available with an attentive ear when he needed to release a burden from his shoulders, but upon arriving home, it became apparent he couldn't do that anymore.

Not that Aelin wouldn't listen now if he asked. She absolutely would. But the things that weighed on Rowan now were like boulders. Dark, heavy, and capable of crushing anyone who'd seen what he'd seen during his time imprisoned. Every night when the dreams woke him up, he'd turn to his left and see her peaceful face and praise all that was good that she was a heavy sleeper. He couldn't put this on her. She was so happy to have him home, and he was so glad to be with her again. Yet those choking pains still laid on his soul, so with her encouragement, therapy was the best option.

Thankfully, Yrene was a patient woman. A well-established favorite among the other veterans. She didn't coddle them or push them to be weepy and whiney. They'd all had that drilled from them long ago.

Instead, she was calm and collected. Never did she drill Rowan for information or push meaningless busywork that felt pointless to accomplish. Yrene chatted like she was an old friend, sometimes prying tiny bits of information from him he hadn't even realized he was giving.

Occasionally days came where he didn't want to speak at all, and she respected those as well. With time, he slowly felt the days going by easier. He jerked less at loud noises, could sleep with a nightlight instead of having every lamp in the house turned on, and his dreams became less foul.

Rowan wasn't better. Not by a long shot. He doubted he would ever fully return to normal, but he felt more capable of carrying those lead weights.

One of the few things that still plagued him, and he couldn't understand why was his inability to open up to Aelin.

She was his best friend-his guiding light through months of hell. Yet their relationship now that he was home felt strained. Aelin walked on eggshells around him, and her little quirks he used to love grated on his nerves. Rowan would snip at her and gripe, but she always handled his moods with a saints patience. While he'd been working on fixing other pieces of his soul, he hadn't paid attention to how she was handling having him back, not until the previous weekend.

A plane had flown overhead, and Rowan dropped the cup of coffee he'd been holding. His body locked up and froze. Memories seized his brain, but with controlled breathing, he'd been able to bring himself back relatively fast. He should have felt proud. Yet, when he opened his eyes, he saw Aelin at his feet, picking up the shards of glass with her bare fingers and snapped.

He'd grabbed her wrist and shook the glass from her hands. They'd exchanged heated words which now wasn't uncommon between them. The words that spilled from his mouth were unnecessarily hurtful, and Rowan let her go, exasperated. He walked out of the room, wanting to get dressed for a run to clear his head, and when the door closed behind him, a muffled sob sounded from behind him.

Aelin didn't know he'd heard. She'd purposefully waited for him to leave before letting his words affect her, and it broke his heart. How many times had he'd wounded her by lashing out?

They'd had passionate fights before, and she'd never been afraid of putting him in his place. Why would she yield and allow him to walk over her? How could he let himself treat her so poorly? Rowan fretted. He felt disgusted by his actions but didn't know how to go about repairing their relationship.

So when therapy rolled around Monday morning, he surprised Yrene by immediately talking.

"I don't understand," Rowan began restlessly pacing. "She's never let me get away with being an asshole. Even when we were teenagers, that woman would have my ass if I ever crossed her boundaries."

Yrene sat quietly in her chair as he marched a talked. She occasionally fiddled with the end of her sleeve, but her attention never wavered as he spoke.

"Something is bothering me. Aelin is bothering me. It makes no sense," Rowan ran a hand through his hair. "I love her. Words cannot describe how much I missed being with her while I was overseas. She is my heart. But for some reason, I can't stand to be around her."

Rowan stops his movement and turns to Yrene almost pleadingly. "What's wrong with me?"

Yrene looks up with sympathy and points to the chair opposite of her. Rowan slumps into the chair, wringing his hands nervously, waiting for whatever sage advice she has. Maybe even an additional diagnosis on top of his intense PTSD and depression.

That last thought sent his gut sinking. He couldn't handle bringing home another bombshell to drop on his wife. Another conversation where he would rage and grieve while she comforted him with a cracked smile- promising him that she would be by his side.

He couldn't keep doing this to her.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Rowan." Yrene starts gently. "Anger is a phase of grief, and you've been given an unfair amount of things to mourn- friends, your career, your regular life. This is a normal step in the process of recovering."

"It's not fair," Rowan rests his fists on his knees and leans forward. "None of this is fair to her. Life wasn't pleasant for her while I was gone. I'm fully aware that she wasn't off dancing and sniffing daisies. She suffered. I suffered. We were both in pain, and now that I'm home, I've been getting better, but she's still hurting. I can't keep hurting her like this."

"Then it's good you brought this up. This is the kind of thing I am here to help you work on." Yrene lifts a glass of water to her lips and takes a drink. "You said Aelin hasn't been communicating it to you if you've been hurting her feelings?"

"No," Rowan states definitively. "She's not."

"Well, I haven't spoken to Aelin, so I can't say anything definitively, but it's very common for loved one's to repress their own emotions when assisting their family member on their way to recovery. It's possible she feels like laying her emotions on you while you cope with yours will hinder your progress."

"That's not right, though." Rowan taps his foot. "I've never wanted her to feel that way, and I never wanted to become the asshole she doesn't feel comfortable talking to."

"It's not that simple. Have you tried talking to her about what you went through as a POW?" Yrene drops bluntly. It's the first time she's been so candid with the language surrounding his imprisonment, and it makes him cringe, but she doesn't stop there. "You have every right to go at your pace and discuss things on your terms, but Aelin is taking her cues from you. If you are uncomfortable speaking to her, it's likely equally as awkward for her to bring up her problems to you. Unless she is communicating and is pushing you for information, that could also cause tension. You mentioned something about her time while you were gone. Has she been talking about it often?"

"Not exactly," Rowan forces his fists to relax and his leg to still. "When I got home, she was staying with her cousin out of town. I found stacks of letters she'd addressed to me in our bedroom, and I read them before she got back."

Yrene raises a hand to halt him, "I won't ask what was in those letters, but I am assuming they probably read like a diary of sorts?"

"Yes."

"Writing is a very therapeutic process for a lot of people. It's an easy way to put down your feelings without the awkwardness of someone being physically present. A lot of people find that they are more vulnerable in writing than they are in person. Have you ever considered writing back to her?"

"What?" Rowan asked, baffled.

"Maybe it will make talking to her easier," Yrene shrugs. "It doesn't have to be profound letters, maybe just a few notes. Perhaps it will break some of the ice and make her feel more comfortable approaching you again and vice versa."

"I'm not ready to tell Aelin what happened. I don't want to upset her." Rowan lowers his tone, aching to stand up and pace again. It was something he'd been doing a lot lately. He was constantly antsy.

"As I said, it doesn't need to be profound. Thank her for doing your laundry. Say I love you. Compliment her. Leave it somewhere she can find it, and let her know you still love her. Aelin is not what you're mad at. You are angry with the situation you've been forced into. Express that to her."

"That works?"

"There is only one way to find out, and it doesn't hurt to try." Yrene reaches into the drawer of the coffee table and pulls out a stack of sticky notes. "Here, to get you started."

Rowan takes the stack, and they end their session together. He walks out of her office in a daze, and the walk home offers even less clarity. Writing was never his thing. He'd written Aelin letters before, the customary ones military spouses exchange while apart, but he was no poet.

Rowan is hesitant about this new assignment, but when he comes home and finds Aelin asleep on their bed in the middle of the day, he realizes he has to try.

At first, it feels awkward and clumsy. Rowan gets the first note out of the way immediately, taking advantage of her nap. He writes 'Sorry'  with a shaking hand and leaves it stuck to the screen of her phone. His heart writhes when he see's that she'd nestled one of his shirts under her head while she slept.

When Aelin wakes up, she doesn't mention the note, but the slight smile she gives lets him know he's forgiven.

He truly doesn't deserve it.

The following notes feel equally strange. Rowan sticks an 'I Love You' to Aelin's alarm clock and a 'You're beautiful' to her bathroom mirror. Of course, he means those things, but they feel paltry and empty, scribbled on a tiny square of colored paper. Still, Aelin never comments on the notes, but Rowan notes that she looks a little less tense. That's encouragement enough for him to keep trying.

The little notes feel too shallow for him, so Rowan tries to make them more specific. 'I love waking up to you in my bed,' 'I'm sorry I yelled,' and 'I would marry you all over again.'"

After the last one, Aelin acknowledges his notes with a kiss to his cheek for the first time. "I would marry you again, too. I'll see you after work."

Watching her walk out the door, Rowan found himself wishing she would stay. He should have held her longer that morning. Convinced her to call in sick.

Regret lingered in the back of his mind, but Rowan was content knowing she would enjoy herself at work. He'd met the owner of the small bookstore she now worked for, and he was a nice man. Aelin's eyes lit up as she gave him a tour between the shelves, and it was a better fit her personality overall. Rowan loved that she was happy at work. No longer was she being manipulated by that piece of shit at the bar. If Aedion hadn't run him from Orythn with a sheet of legal offenses, then Rowan would have had words with Erawan himself.

It would have been bloody.

Instead of feeling guilty, Rowan channeled his wistfulness into a longer note.

'I miss you when you are gone. Being around you has always been the best parts of my day. Some things never change.'

Aelin finds that note attached to her toothbrush, and when she stumbles into bed, he sees a sheen of silver on her cheeks. Rowan gathers her into his arms, pulling her into a deep kiss. They break apart, but Aelin remains tucked to his side for the rest of the night.

Yrene is ecstatic to hear their progress and encourages him to keep going. One day, he takes the time to count the envelopes Aelin had stacked on her desk. Neither of them had the heart to touch them. The day they reunited was still a fond memory between the two, but the memories sealed in those letters were painful.

It's a staggering number. Looking back, Rowan is astonished he'd managed to finish them all before she came home. She'd bled her heart onto those pages, and with all of the success his little notes had, had at healing their bond, he felt compelled to do the same.

Rowan writes his first letter. It's darker than he'd intended. He talks about his PTSD and how frustrated he gets with himself when he locks up. It's a few short rambling paragraphs that end with an apology for taking his stress out on her. That envelope, which he addresses with a red pen and stamps, he sticks in her purse, hoping she finds it later.

It's nauseating.

Rowan feels exposed. He's uncertain of how she will react to him admitting that he doesn't like it when she sees him in such a state. It's embarrassing.

At dinner the next day, he knows she's read it, somehow he knows, but Aelin doesn't bring it up. It brings doubts to his mind. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything? They were just starting to get back to normal. Dragging his shit into the middle wasn't helping.

That evening, they are both reading in the living room. The TV hums quietly on some old sitcom, and both of them are relaxed. Rowan wasn't ready for the show to switch from cheap jokes and laugh tracks to a commercial for an action movie. The sound of a gunshot sends Rowan into a memory.

His book is sent flying to the floor, and he curls over his knees, shielding his head with his hands. It takes several minutes for him to get his breathing under control, but when awareness to reality creeps back- Aelin is still quietly reading. His book is on the floor, but the TV is turned off.

It's quiet for several moments, but when Aelin glances up from her book and smiles, Rowan smiles back.

The letters come easy.

Rowan writes about his time in prison. His fears, lost friends, how the new scars came to be. Not only does he write about the hard things- some of his letters are essentially fan mail to his wife. They handle his attacks better, and with that, he finds his frustration with her waning. All of the reasons he loves Aelin come back to him in a rush. Sometimes it overwhelms him.

He loves her jasmine shampoo. The fact she's worn the same three scents since high school, and they are as reliable as the fire she has going every evening it dips below freezing. Rowan adores the way one half of her smile goes higher than the other. He spends a whole paragraph lamenting his hopes that their future children smile the same way. Kissing her is his favorite pass time. Her fingers combing through his hair while they watch another period movie is a close second.

With his mental state gradually improving, he notices a change in his physical body. Fat creeps back onto his ribs, slowly churning into muscle as physical therapy restores him back to his former shape. Over the course of months, his scars go from red to silver. The wan appearance of his skin disappears and days in the sun color him.

Aelin looks better too. She smiles bigger, laughs louder, and the shadows under her eyes go away. Her weight also increases, though Rowan would never say a damn thing. It's not in a bad way, either. She'd been looking so small. Her fire dimmed. He took it as a physical representation of her own recovery because she genuinely had suffered while he was away.

The letters become a part of their daily routine when Aelin starts writing them back. By the end of the year, it's no longer their sole way of meaningful communication. They talk. The letters recede into something like a love language.

Notes stuck in her shoes, envelopes tucked into his service dog, Fleetfoot's, collar. They include lousy poetry, stupid jokes, and small declarations of affection. Rowan loves it.

One day, he comes home from work and finds an envelope not hidden away. Aelin sits at the table, lip trapped under her front teeth and a green envelope between them.

Rowan glances between her and the letter, "Aelin?"

"Shh," she silences him as he unhooks Fleetfoots collar. "Don't talk. Just read."

He approaches the table with caution and breaks the seal of the envelope. Aelin's body is practically jittering with nervous energy, and the tears building in the corner of her eyes urge him to move faster.

Rowan slips the paper loose and looks at the contents. There is only two words.

It's Positive.

"What?" Rowan looks up and freezes when he looks at what Aelin has set on the table between him. A standard pregnancy test stick with two blue lines.

They'd started trying for a baby again. It was a big step for them both, but he'd been home for nearly two years now.

Aelin had experienced troubles before he'd been deployed that exposed how hard it would be for them to start a family. Their plans had been majorly derailed for obvious reasons, but they'd been prepared to accept that having a biological child may not be in the cards for them.

Positive.

Fleetfoot yips as Rowan practically lifts out of her seat, note still in hand, to kiss her. "This is the best letter I have ever gotten."

"That's really saying something," Aelin laughs against his lips.

He chuckles with her and strokes a thumb over the arch of her cheek. "You've set the bar high. It's going to be very difficult to outdo this one. I thought my anniversary ballad would keep me on top for a while, but this?" Rowan kisses her again. "This is priceless."

She hums and leans into his chest, "You can make it up to me in other ways."

Their noses brush as they lean against the table, Rowan's hands wandering beneath the hem of her shirt. Aelin gasps as his hands smooth over her plains of skin, and she tugs at the collar of his shirt.

"Aelin," he rasps as she pulls away from his neck, the ghosts of her kisses still tingling. "I love you."

"I know," she lays her head against his beating heart, and they sink into each other's embrace. "You write about it so damn much."

"And I'll keep doing it, for a long time."

"A long time?" Aelin looks up at him from under her eyelashes with a peaceful look. "I like the sound of that."

Fleetfoot whines as they shut her out of the bedroom to celebrate. The pieces of their old lives come together in their second act. Neither of them thought this sort of happiness would ever show up in their cards. They celebrate late into the night, and when Aelin falls asleep, Rowan writes. He really thinks it's his best work, yet.

Carefully, he tucks it under her pillow for her to find in the morning. He sets his wife’s alarm clock for her and lays with an arm tossed over her waist- and when he falls asleep? Rowan's dreams are filled with tomorrows, sweet embraces, and strange children.

He'd write those down for Aelin, too.

[citrus-cactus]

FrontierFest, Day 20

Frontier fanartist/author recommendations? [you can recommend yourself!]

I don't know anyone who exclusively draws Frontier fanart, but I have been a fan of @koucholate's art for a long time. They have an adorable style, and draw the absolute CUTEST Koujis. Here is my #1 favorite; Kouji babysitting Tomoki and Shinya is amazing and 100% deserves to happen.

@raynef-art is mostly on Twitter these days, but has posted some great Frontier art (as well as other Digimon seasons) on Tumblr. I really admire her lineart and coloring skills!

As for fic, I haven't read any Frontier fanfic in years, so these recommendations are from me-several-years-ago and not necessarily me-from-today, but I'm mentioning them because they did leave quite an impression on me at the time:

The Spirits Within by SilvorMoon checks ALL the boxes for what I'd love to see in a Frontier sequel (except it is, sadly, unfinished). But it's still a very enjoyable ride! A new quest in the Digital World, a struggle with new evolutions, and a very sympathetic villain in Witchmon! As soon as I'm caught up with all the OTHER fanfic I'm behind on, I think I'll give this a reread, and yearn(tm).

Whiteout, also by SilvorMoon, is a cute Junzumi fic, and is probably the first and (until recently) only place I had seen Junpei associated with model trains, which does seem like a natural fit as a hobby he would have later in life!

Issues with Younger Brothers by Higuchimon scratches that itch of human characters who never interacted in the show having a scene together, in this case Takuya and Yutaka (pre-series!)

And hey, I might as well plug the scant Frontier art I've posted on my other blogs, and my one (silly) fanfic that offers a slightly different take on the ending of episode 15. The only other Frontier fic I ever made any progress toward writing was going to serve as gap-filler for the time that Takuya spent in the real world and focused on a Kouji + Tomoki interaction and (slight) character development... but sadly, that has been stalled as a partial draft for many, MANY years. This event has given me a few other plot bunnies though, so I've been toying with the idea of writing a little scene of Kouji going back to pick up those flowers from the florist, and MAYBE a fic based on something that was mentioned in the Blu-ray audio drama (and has involved researching a lot of operas!). Will I actually start, much less finish either of those? Doubtful, but I can dream! :P

However, since 2022 IS the Year of Frontier, I am motivated to draw more art at the very least!!

[bangtanreadingcorner]

tall, blonde and gorgeous • jeon jeongguk

plot — when jeongguk dyes his hair blonde, it might just be the push you both need to finally talk about the feelings you have for each other.

words — 5.7K

You woke up in the middle of the night, craving some apple juice. You knew there was in the kitchen fridge, because Taehyung always made sure to stock up whenever you come for a weekend visit.

Speaking of your brother, he was passed out next to you, the two of you sharing his King sized bed while you visited. Like you always did. It was mostly just you two, but sometimes Jimin would join you. You don't mind, you known both of them since forever and Jimin is your brother as much as Taehyung is.

Quietly, you got out of bed. You didn't want to wake your brother, he works so hard and needs his rest.

The dorm was silent, which was a little weird because there was usually always someone up. It was only when on tour that all seven of the boys would sometimes be asleep at once, but even that was rare.

Shrugging it off, you padded the rest of the way to the kitchen, only to come to a halt in the doorway, freezing.

Someone with a mop of blond hair stood with his back to you, digging through the fridge.

The digging through the fridge wasn't what surprised you, no, it was the hair because as far as you knew, no one in Bangtan had blonde hair right now.

You knew because your brother was always spamming your phone, whenever he had time, with pictures, videos, voice notes and messages. You and Taehyung have always been close and he always made the effort to keep you up-to-date with his life but also made a point to keep you out of the spotlight, which you appreciate more than you tell him. Come to think of it, more than half your gallery is made up of pictures of Bangtan. The other half is made up of your rare selfies, pictures with your friends, of your dog or your brother's dog.

The point is, if someone colored their hair, you would know within five minutes - with pictures and everything. And Taehyung hasn't spammed your phone since yesterday morning when he and Jimin accidentally got Hobi instead of Jeongguk with a water balloon.

So, the question is, who is the blonde currently rummaging through the fridge?

You looked him up and down, noticing the very nice, very broad and clearly strong shoulders covered with a black t-shirt that hid the rest of the guy's figure. Your gaze went down a nice ass and long legs that was wearing grey sweatpants and finally stopping at bare feet.

Something flashed in your mind.

Wait a minute.

You know that ass. You've looked at it enough over the last seven years to recognize it anywhere in a crowd.

"Jeongguk?" You called, a little satisfied when he jumped upright, turning to you with wide eyes. Your heart decided to double its pace.

"Ah, tiny, you're awake. I thought you were sleeping, trying to grow some more." He teased, his heartbeat slowly calming down from the freight you gave him. His eyes quickly scanned you over, and he had to suppress a smile when he saw the bright orange pajamas. It was ugly as hell - he made sure to tell you many times but you always just roll your eyes at him or if you were feeling particularly moody, you'd flip him a finger.

Now, ordinarily, you'd snap at him for calling you tiny because you aren't (it doesn't matter that Jimin is 12 centimeters taller than you, it doesn't make you tiny, short maybe, but not tiny) but right now, you could only focus on one thing.

"Y-your hair." You stuttered, which was new because you never stutter in Jeongguk's presence. Your heart may race, your legs may turn into jelly, your hands may tremble and your stomach may fill with butterflies but you never stutter. And you never let him know what you're feeling.

He ran a hand through his freshly dyed blonde hair, only a little self-conscious with the intense stare you were giving him. He couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. "Yeah, I just wanted a change, something different."

"Well, it's definitely different. Mission accomplished." You informed him, walking into the kitchen fully, your voice miraculously even as you were internally panicking. This was like that time he dyed his hair pink all over again. Oh god. You hoped you could form coherent sentences this time around instead of just giving him the silent treatment for two weeks.

Like you said, you don't stutter around Jeongguk. Ever.

Jeongguk tilted his head at you curiously. "Bad different?"

"No!" You exclaimed, not wanting him to think that. You shook your head vigorously. "Not all. It looks good actually. Really good." So good, in fact, that your fingers itched to touch, to run your hands through it, play with the dyed locks of hair.

Jeongguk looked at you in pleasant surprise, lips stretching into that familiar bunny smile that made you swoon. He bit his bottom lip before saying. "I think that's the first time you ever paid me a compliment."

You frowned, "That can't be true."

"It is." Jeongguk's tone was matter-of-fact. "In seven years, you've never once given me a compliment. I would have remembered."

You pursed your lips, a sudden surge of guilt rushing through your chest at the look on his face - hurt.

"Well, you get lots of compliments from other people, right?" You said, trying to deflect because you never once thought that by staying quiet around Jeongguk, just to hide your feelings, that you'd hurt him.

"But never from you." Jeongguk said, words low and heavy with something you didn't understand. He stared at you, eyes open and strangely vulnerable. You didn't understand what he was trying to tell you.

You frowned at him again, "What does it matter?"

Something in Jeongguk's eyes shuttered at that, like he let you see something but now he pulled his walls back up. You still didn't understand it and he wasn't volunteering an answer.

Finally, he shrugged, "It doesn't, I guess." and he turned back to the refrigerator.

You had a feeling he was lying but you weren't going to call him out because that wasn't your place and it wasn't the kind of thing you and Jeongguk did. Whenever things seemed to go in a direction where feelings were involved - and not about other people but about each other, like what you think of Jeongguk and what he thinks of you - one of you stops the conversation before it can go deeper.

You tease each other good-naturedly, comfortable with each other because you are the same age, and you've listened to him rant when he was frustrated and even held his hand at times when he cried because the pressure of it all got a little to much.

It struck you, suddenly, how Jeongguk always comes to you first. Whether he's stupidly happy about something, or whether he's sad and wants a shoulder to cry on. You two could talk about anything under the sun or moon but whenever it comes to your feelings for each other, you shut down. You've never even admitted that you are, at the very least, friends and that you do care about each other.

You wondered if maybe it was time to change that.

You looked at Jeongguk's back and wanted to ask if thinks of you as a friend, if nothing else but what came out was, "Can you hand me a juice box please?"

He did so, without a word, and you decided to go back to bed. You stopped in the doorway again, turning back to him. "Jeongguk?"

"Yeah?" His tone, his eyes, was strangely hopeful and it made your heart twist. You looked at him, and somehow fell a little bit more in love with him.

"You know that I care about you, right? I mean, I know we've never talked about it, but I do." Your hands was shaking and you gripped the juice box. Luckily you didn't press the straw in yet or your hands would be full of apple juice right now.

The smile Jeongguk gave you was brilliant and it made your heart feel lighter than ever. He nodded his head, "I know."

"Good."

"I-" He started, breath catching a bit but forced himself to go on because if you could be brave, then so could he. "I care about you, too."

You grinned at him before turning away and going back to Taehyung's room, a definite skip in your step.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Taehyung asked eagerly the next morning after breakfast, when everyone cooed and screeched over Jeongguk's hair.

You were back in your brother's room, scrolling through your Twitter feed. You looked at him, not sure what he was talking about. When it comes to Taehyung it can anything from the lines for a song he's working on to his next prank on one of the members.

"Of what?" You asked.

"About Jeonggukie." He said, waving with a hand at his head, so that the meaning was clear.

"Ah, you mean his transformation from tall, dark and handsome to tall, blonde and gorgeous?"

"Yes! What do you think?" Your brother looked at you expectantly.

"I think my previous question is an answer to that question." You smirked at him, snickering when he just scoffed before pouting at you.

"I hate it when you go all smartass on me." He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I love you, too." You sing-songed with a lighthearted giggled.

* * *

Later that afternoon, you decided to watch a movie and was joined by Jeongguk, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin.

"Jeongguk-ah." You called from where you were sitting on the two seater couch next to Hoseok. Jimin and Taehyung was laying cuddled on the three seater and Jeongguk was sitting on the floor, against the front of the coffee table. You weren't sure where the rest are right now.

He turned to you, eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What do you want?"

You gaped at him, "What makes you think I want something?"

"Because you only call me 'Jeongguk-ah' when you want something." He was matter-of-fact.

The other three was watching the two of you instead of the movie.

"Like what? I rarely ask you anything." You frowned at him.

"Like getting your phone from Taehyung-hyung's room, making you tea, bringing you a blanket, getting your food." Jeongguk said and you huffed. Okay, so maybe you do that but this time what you want would benefit him too.

"Okay, first of all, you didn't have to do any of what I asked, you know. And second, you'll like this too." You assured him, then added after a moment. "I think."

Jeongguk looked at you warily as Jimin and Taehyung exchanged smirks. "What do you want?"

"I want to play with your hair." You shrugged nonchalantly, not showing a hint of how nervous you are, no showing how it took you the whole morning to pluck enough courage together to ask.

Jeongguk's mouth fell open in surprise, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I mean I've always liked your hair but this blonde hair is really doing for you." You smiled at him, a little more confident when you saw more confusion than anything else on his face. Satisfaction rolled through you when you noticed his red ears.

"Whatever, fine." He muttered in agreement, looking away from you as he stood up right and came to sit down infront of you.

"Thank you." You grinned, clapping your hands in glee as you crossed your legs on the couch, knees touching Jeongguk's shoulders.

"Just don't tangle it." Jeongguk said, eyes fixed on the TV screen.

"I won't." You promised before reaching out and running your hands through his hair. It was just as soft as you hoped, instead of being dry and rough from the dye - it made you feel giddy.

Jeongguk tensed under the touch for a second but relaxed when you continued your gentle ministrations, nails scraping softly against his scalp. You tuned out the rest of the room, having watched the movie before - you've watched all the Marvel movies with Jeongguk at least three times - and continued playing with the blonde tresses.

Still, something caught your attention and you said, "Jimin-oppa, put away that phone."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said innocently, hiding his phone behind his back.

"Sure you don't."

It was silent for fifteen seconds before he whined, "But no one will believe me if I don't have proof."

"They'll believe Hobi-oppa." You retorted, nodding to the ray of sunshine sitting besides you.

Jimin huffed indignantly but dutifully put his phone away.

You continued playing with Jeongguk's hair, twirled and braided and separated and bunched it together like a pineapple stem atop his hair. The movie finished and Taehyung picked another one and you still played with Jeongguk's hair.

Twenty minutes into the new movie, Jeongguk's head fell back, onto your legs, eyes closed. You gaped at the blonde.

"Jeongguk." You whispered, not wanting to wake him if he is sleeping but not sure if he's playing either.

"Did he fall asleep?" Your brother asked, laughter in his voice, making his eyes sparkle.

"I think so." You nodded, in a state of bewilderment and disbelief.

"You must have magic hands." Hoseok said before pressing a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his laughter.

Your glared at them. "Not one more word out of the three of you, or I'll change the sugar in your coffee for salt for the indefinite future."

"I didn't say anything." Jimin protested and you just gave him a pointed look.

They thankfully kept quiet after that, but you could see them glancing at you and Jeongguk every now and again. You ignored their gazes as you continued playing with his hair.

Your heart was thumping happily in your chest, glad that Jeongguk enjoy you playing with his hair so much that it lulled him to sleep. It made you feel so content that you didn't want to move again.

You even turned a blind eye when you saw Jimin turning his phone in your direction ten minutes later.

At the end of the movie, you decided to wake Jeongguk up. As much as you like him sleeping on your legs, they were starting to fall asleep and he would get a stiff neck if he keeps sleeping like that.

So, you shooed everyone out of the room before gently shaking his shoulder. "Jeongguk-ah, wake up."

He groaned and you repeated your actions, watching as his eyes fluttered open. You looked into his sleepy eyes, wanting to coo as you watched him blink his way out of sleep. He quickly recognised you, even upside down, and immediately sat upright, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N?" His voice was husky with sleep and it made your cheeks heat up. "What happened?"

"You feel asleep." You explained. You watched as he nodded slowly, processing this and felt the urge to tease him a little, so you added, "On my lap."

Jeongguk's cheeks flushed pink and you couldn't help the fond smile on your lips. He ducked his head shyly and spoke a soft, "Sorry."

"It's okay." You waved him off. You wanted to even the field between you because it felt unbalanced somehow, like you had something over Jeongguk. You didn't like it, you wanted to be right besides him. Not above or below him. (Although many people would say he's way above you, you know that he doesn't care about that and neither do you.) Finally you admitted, "I liked it, it was nice that you felt relaxed enough because of me to fall asleep."

"I liked it, too."

You smiled, a little shy but also feeling bold by his admission. "I'll do it again sometime then."

"Okay." He grinned.

* * *

After that weekend, it took three weeks before you had another free weekend to go and visit your brother. With your bag slung over your shoulder and a bouquet of red tulips in your hand, you opened the door and called a loud hello to anyone inside. You made you way to the kitchen first, wanting to put the flowers in some water.

You found Jeongguk - who was still blonde, and your heart instantly picked up its pace - and Namjoon in the kitchen, the leader busy by the microwave and Jeongguk waiting as far as humanly possible from it. You quickly realised what was happening and supressed a smile. Namjoon must be heating food up for Jeongguk, who is afraid of microwaves.

You exchanged greetings and you quickly started looking through the cupboards for a vase.

"Those are pretty flowers." Namjoon remarked, leaning against the counter.

"I know right."

"Where did you get them?" Jeongguk asked, eyes on the admittedly pretty flowers.

"Oh, some guy gave them to me before asking me out." You answered absentmindedly as you continued your search for a vase.

Behind you, Jeongguk tensed, his hands curling into fists.

"Really?" Namjoon asked, more to see Jeongguk's reaction than anything else.

"Yeah, I almost said yes, too, just for the fact that he gave me flowers." You nodded over your shoulder. "Do you guys have a vase? I swear Jin-oppa had one in the old dorm."

"Under the sink." Namjoon answered, arms crossed over his chest as he looked back and forth between an oblivious-you and a jealous-Jeongguk, a smile on the corners of his lips.

"Thanks." You grinned before walking over to the sink and crouching down. You opened the cupboard and had to dig past the sponges, cloths, windowlene, bleach and dishwashing liquid before spotting the crystal vase. "I love flowers, you know? Not many people know because it's not something I advertise but Taehyung-oppa always gives me flowers for my birthday, every year since I was thirteen." You babbled as you gently pulled out the vase, not wanting to knock it against one of the pipes and crack or shatter it by accident. It was a little dusty, so you rinsed it before filling it halfway with water.

"Do you have a favorite flower?" Namjoon asked, partly to fill the silence because Jeongguk was glaring at the ceiling, tongue in cheek, and partly because he genuinely wants to know.

"Nope," You shook your head, removing the protective plastic around the flowers and putting them in the water. "I like all kinds of flowers. Roses, lillies, forget-me-nots, proteas, tulips, sunflowers - you name it, I love it. And in all colours too. There's just too many to pick a favorite. Although I really like pink lotus flowers. I'd love to grow them when I have my own garden someday. I'll have to install a shallow pond, of course, because they grow in mud but yeah, that's something I'd really like to try." You rambled on. Namjoon watched you fondly and glanced at the maknae, seeing that Jeongguk was still tense.

"Did you say yes?" Jeongguk burst out asking the moment you stopped talking.

"Huh?" You frowned at him, a little lost because you were completely caught up in thoughts of flowers.

"The date." He said, voice taking a sharp edge. "Did you say yes?"

"Oh." Realisation dawned on you and you shook your head. "No, I didn't."

"Then why did you take his flowers? You'll give him the wrong idea." Jeongguk grumbled.

Namjoon thought that right now was the best time to become a missing person and quickly exited the kitchen. He is not playing referee, should this turn into an arguement. No, thank you, he's done it enough between these two.

You rolled your eyes at Jeongguk, "I made myself perfectly clear, Jeongguk. I told him that while I adore the flowers, I don't like him."

"Still, you shouldn't have taken them." Jeongguk insisted, stepping closer to you.

Your temper flared, "Excuse me? Why not?"

"What if someone had seen? What if they start thinking that you two are dating?" Jeongguk's tone was something crossed between horror and panic.

"And so what if they think that?" You frowned at Jeongguk because what does it matter what other people think when you know the truth?

"So you do want people to think you're dating." Jeongguk said, voice cutting and accusing.

"What?" You stepped closer to Jeongguk, getting angrier by the second.

"Do you actually like this guy?" Jeongguk asked, sounding distressed with the thought but you were to angry to pay any attention to that.

You scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?" He pointed to himself, shocked.

"Yes! They're just fucking flowers!" Your voice was raised as you snapped at him, louder and harsher than it's been in a long time towards Jeongguk, of all people.

You didn't have time to feel guilty because his next words matched yours in volume, "That some other guy bought for you!"

"And your point is what exactly?!" Your voice didn't lower.

"My point is that I can buy you flowers!" Jeongguk shouted back.

The words take a second to sink in, and when it does, it catches you completely off guard and you deflate like a popped balloon, you anger evaporating like mist under the sun. You squint up at the blonde, who you finally noticed was a lot closer than when you started this arguement. "What?"

His voice was soft this time around, all the fight having left him, too. "If you want flowers, just ask me. I'll buy you any flowers you want. Just-" He cut himself off with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Don't take someone else's flowers again. Please."

You looked at him, opening your mouth to snap at him but saw the sincere, the utterly vulnerable look in his eyes, and the breath was knocked from your lungs. You looked away, taking a few steps back as your heart twisted and you inhaled deeply to fill your lungs again. You noticed that Namjoon had left the kitchen. You didn't blame him.

A lengthy silence later, you finally looked at Jeongguk again, your hands trembling. "Is it really that important to you?"

"Yes." Jeongguk answered softly but firmly, no question in his voice, even as he looked down at the tiled floor.

"Okay." You nodded.

His eyes snapped to yours, and he echoed, "Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You gave him a slow smile, then, just to break the heavy tension around you two, you said, "Just know that there is no backing out now and flowers are expensive. You aren't allowed to complain that I'm denting your bank account later."

"Deal." Jeongguk laughed, warmth spreading through his chest as the last of his jealousy faded.

* * *

"You know that one day you are going to have to talk about the feelings between you and Jeongguk, right?" Taehyung asked his sister later that night when they were laying in bed. He heard the story from Jimin, who heard it from Seokjin and Yoongi, who heard it from Hoseok, who heard it from Namjoon.

"What feelings?" You asked innocently.

Taehyung sighed in frustration but wasn't very surprised. The one thing that Taehyung has never been able to get out of his sister is the truth about her feelings for Jeongguk. But even without her saying anything, he knew. The eyes don't lie. "Denying it won't make it go away, Y/N."

You sighed, too, "Yeah, I know."

Taehyung didn't say anything for a few moments. This was the closest his sister ever gotten to admitting her feelings out loud, in seven years. "I'm here for you. Always."

"Thanks." You smiled, as if you didn't know that already.

* * *

Before you went home that Sunday, your brother told you that they were going on vacation as a group and you're invited because according to Taehyung, right after Jimin, you are the one person he can't live without. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics but agree to go with them none the less.

So, you put in a week's leave for two weeks from now and asked your brother where you would be going for this vacation. The answer was a secluded beach house where no one would be able to reach you.

And no phones was allowed.

You laughed a bit at that rule when you arrived at the house and saw that there is WiFi. Your brother was quick to remind everyone of the rule, telling them that the WiFi was only allowed to be used for YouTube and Netflix. Games was added to the list after an objection from Jeongguk and Seokjin.

"This is gonna go great." You laughed as walked up the stairs to pick a room. You get first choice after winning the rock, paper, scissors game in the car.

"Pick us a nice room, sis!" Taehyung shouted up after you.

There was only four rooms because the whole point of this vacation is to spend time together, which means that everyone was doubling up. They decided to pair up by age and it turned out - Seokjin and Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon, Jimin and Jeonguk, and naturally, you and Taehyung were paired up. (You tried not to think about the fact that if you kept to the age pairing that you and Jeongguk would've been sharing a room.) That lead to a lot of pouting from Jimin because he wanted to pair up with his soulmate.

"If your so eager to share a bed with him, why don't you marry him?" You remember teasing Jimin.

"Maybe I will." He shot back without thinking and you weren't sure who was redder once his words set in - Jimin or Taehyung.

You picked a room with a small balcony and a nice view of the ocean. The day passed peacefully, everyone full of energy but after dinner on the beach, everyone quickly retired to bed, the sea air getting to them.

You decided to watch the ocean a little while longer and Jeongguk joined you. Neither of you spoke as you sat on the sand, watching as the waves crashed on the shore, water retreating back into the vast expanse of ocean. It was captivating, in a kind of terrifying way but if there is one thing in your life you've never been scared of, it's water.

"Life is a lot like the ocean." You eventually said, breaking the silence between you.

"How so?"

"You can read about it in so many books, but you still won't know everything about it."

"That's deep." Jeongguk said, voice soft.

You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. "Yeah, well, I've never been a shallow person."

"I know." You saw him nodding out of the corner of your eyes. "You're a beautiful person. Inside and out." He said it so matter-of-factly, so sincerely, that your stomach flipped and your cheeks flushed.

"Thanks." You smiled over at him.

It was silent again, but just like the first silence, you didn't mind it. You like the comfortable quiet between you two. Finally, you sighed and pushed to your feet, "Come on, let's go inside."

"Okay." Jeongguk got to his feet and you walked the path home.

You walked on the side of the pool where you all swam earlier that day, and didn't notice the small puddle of water that hasn't dried yet and you slipped. You reached for Jeongguk but his hands missed yours by millimeters, so you just took a breath and resigned yourself to falling into the water. You didn't mind it all that much, nothing some towels couldn't fix.

When you surfaced, you saw a laughing Jeongguk on the side. An idea formed in your mind but you made sure to keep your expression neutral as you reached a hand out to him. "Give a girl a hand, please."

Jeongguk - nice, kind, unsuspecting Jeongguk - reached a helping hand out to you immediately, only realising your true intentions when you gave a forceful yank and pulled him into the pool.

When he surfaced, glaring at you - but there was no heat behind it, so it didn't count - you couldn't help but laugh heartily. "I forget how similar you and Taehyung-hyung really are sometimes."

"Sucks for you." You smirked. The smirk turned into spluttering when Jeongguk splashed water into your face. You looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Oh, you're on."

You splashed at each other like proper five year olds, giggling and everything. Finally you called a ceasefire before you woke up everyone inside.

You looked at Jeongguk, blonde hair dripping wet, droplets of water rolling down his tan skin, that little mole under his bottom lip that you've wanted to kiss so many times you've lost count and suddenly, all of your resolve broke down like a house of cards and your common sense shortcircuited. You surged forward and kissed him firmly, clutching at his shoulders to pull him close.

His lips were a little cold from the water but was still petal soft and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him everyday.

Your common sense returned a second later and you pulled away, almost loosing your footing and slipping. Your whole body was on fire and you couldn't look Jeongguk in the eyes. "Fuck. Shit, Jeongguk, I'm so, so sorry."

You turned away from him, every intention of getting out of this pool and hiding away until you die.

Only you didn't get anywhere before a strong hand circled your wrist in the one second and in the next second you found yourself pushed up against the wall of the swimming pool, barricaded in by a hand on each side of you. You looked up at Jeongguk and your mouth went dry at the sight of those dark eyes that made you shiver. His voice was low when he spoke, "I didn't get to kiss back."

Your eyes widened and that was all you had time to do before he leaned down to capture your lips. Your head told you to pull away. That this is a very bad idea. Your heart told you to kiss him back and make the most of it. You've been listening to your head for seven years, so you decided to listen to your heart for once and kissed Jeongguk back with years of pent up longing and yearning.

The kiss turn turned really hot, really fast.

Jeongguk hoisted you up and you quickly got with the program and wrapped your legs around his waist. Everywhere his hands touched, it left a blazing trail behind, causing you to shiver and erupt into goosebumps. Distantly you wondered how it was possible to feel so heated in cold water.

You kissed and kissed until your lungs burned, your toes curling as you squeezed as close to Jeongguk as possible. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you pulled away, both of you heaving lungfuls of air.

"So now what?" You asked him, when you regained some common sense and breathing didn't leave you breathless anymore.

"Well, right now I'd like to kiss you some more, but later on, I'd really like to take you out." Jeongguk told you bluntly and if you were standing, your legs would have given out.

"What?"

And just like that, gone was confident Jeongguk and back was shy Jeongguk. He ducked his head, adverting his eyes from yours. "If you want."

"Yeah, I want too." You told him, watching as his eyes glittered with happiness. You could relate.

Jeongguk was onto something with the kissing some more right now, though, so you pushed that away and you dived back in. Right now you were more interested in mapping the inside of Jeongguk's mouth and finding out what his skin tastes like than anything else in this world.

* * *

The next morning your brother squinted at you suspiciously from across the breakfast table. You were seated in between Jeongguk and Hoseok, across from Taehyung and Jimin. Namjoon sat next to Hoseok. Yoongi and Jin was busy making breakfast in the kitchen. The six of you were waiting patiently.

Finally you couldn't take the staring anymore. "Is there something on my face, Taehyung-oppa?"

"Something happened." Taehyung said, pointing the pair of chopsticks he was fiddling with at you.

You rose a brow, not surprised at all that your brother picked up on it. That doesn't mean you are going to make it easy for him. You put on an innocent face, "Really?"

"Yeah, Taehyung-ah is right, you're like-" Jimin agreed, waving his hands around as he searched for the right word. "...glowing."

"I am not glowing." You said indignantly. Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught a smirk lifting on Jeongguk's lips. You turned and narrowed your eyes at him, "You, stop looking so smug."

"What does Jeonggukie have to do with-" Taehyung cut himself off and you could see how he put the dots together. The look on his face was hilarious as he turned to Jeongguk with a fierce gaze, "Jeon Jeongguk, what have you done to my baby sister?"

Jeongguk, despite being bigger and stronger, still looked a bit terrified of Taehyung as he squeaked, "Nothing, hyung."

"Nothing, hyung. Hah! Do you take me for an idiot? Something happened. I know it did. What is it?"

You giggled and leaned over to Jeongguk and whispered in his ear, "Don't tell him anything. Watching him squirm and drawing his own conclusions, slowly going insane with curiousity will be much funnier than telling him the truth."

Jeongguk brightened at your suggestion and immediately nodded in agreement.

"What are you two whispering about?" Taehyung demanded, voice higher than normal, despite having the deepest voice of the lot. "Hobi-hyung, tell me what they're saying."

"Sorry, Taehyung-ah, I can't hear." Hoseok said with laughter in his tone.

Yoongi and Jin came in with the food before Taehyung could interrogate you further. Taehyung looked before you and Jeongguk, "This isn't over."

You laughed, looking forward to teasing your brother a bit, when suddenly a hand slipped into yours. You looked at Jeongguk, who was steadfastly avoiding your eyes. You noticed his red ears and smiled softly, twisting your hand so you could lace your fingers through his. As the two of you held hands under the table while eating breakfast, you felt giddy and more excited about the future than you have in a long time.

There was still a lot you and Jeongguk had to talk about, but that was for later. You had enough time to figure it all out. Together.

the end.

[corvus--rex]

I noticed you write a lot of omega Keith and I can't help but wonder if that's maybe a reason you can't seem to work on OLIP.

Maybe not. But if that's the case and you'd rather work on other stories or you, right now, feel more inspired writing omega Keith stories that's ok.

Write what you wanna write and if one day you wanna write different stories so be it.

This ask isn't meant to offend or be rude, I just had to ask and if I over stepped I'm sorry. I guess the bottom line is write what you wanna write, even if you have other wips with 5k, 10k, 20k words done and you wanna start another one because that's what's inspiring your creativity at the moment do it!

This isn't rude or offensive at all! But you're not wrong, I do seem to favor writing Keith as an omega, even though when it comes to these two, I really feel like it can go either way. I think it may have something to do with him becoming more vulnerable and being forced to let his walls down and people in...eventually. It's interesting to see how he'd react in different situations when he has no choice but to let someone in. That and he's my feral chew toy that I like to poke with a stick.

I'd say that you may have a point when it comes to OLIP, but I've been having the same roadblock with Here Come the Vultures and The Sound of Color as well (and Dormiveglia), and they both have omega Keith. HCTV has been particularly hard as I have the entire next story arc planned out. I know exactly what's going to happen, who's involved, and what the outcome will be. I started a second oneshot for it (concurrent with Scarlet), but it's a bit heavy, so I've been having some trouble with it just on that.

I have been hyperfixated on an angst plot bunny that won't let up for almost a week now, and I'm loving working on it. It oddly enough also is an omegaverse with omega Keith, in a canonverse that took a hairpin left turn so I could clean out canon's house and rearrange all the furniture. I have things in my notes that I'm almost certain will never come up, but they're there all the same.

But I think one of my biggest frustrations, besides the Sisyphean writer's block, is that I haven't stopped writing at all, I just haven't been able to finish anything, so it looks like I've abandoned my fics. I haven't, and I won't, they are my children and I love them. I also don't really talk about what I'm working on - I have co-morbid adhd and autism in case anyone didn't know - and I will just infodump, which of course, makes me feel like I'm irritating whoever I'm talking to. (That said, if anyone out there doesn't mind spoilers and wants to hear about my plotting and planning, you can just message me whenever, I always want to talk about my fics)

I have done a few oneshots while working on longer fics, and I know I'll continue to do it whenever I have a Thought™ that asks politely to be written or beats me until I give in and do it. My wips folder is *full* of things I've started. Some I may finish, some were just to scratch a particular brain itch and aren't something I could expand on beyond a piece of a partial scene or a bit of an outline.

I'll always be writing. For now - and the foreseeable future - it will definitely be klance, (I actually tried to go back to a couple ocs from a fandom I was in very, very many years ago and couldn't get past a couple paragraphs bc it just wasn't klance), and there will definitely be more oneshots when my writer brain demands it.