#usually i can see my thought process behind what i was writing/editing last but this escapes me

[dbphantom]

the last time i opened this was february and i deleted one word 72 pages in and then closed it again

Why?

[lvlyghost]

Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

-

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

[bubbleddisasters]

(Can’t believe I’m writing my first ever x reader (kind of) this but the Self Aware Au is so interesting to me)

Code Escaping: Heartstabyl Edition.

(All Students (can be viewed as platonic or romantic, Orthos is strictly platonic though)

Gender Neutral Reader!

——-

After several attempts, and failures, they finally succeeded.

They got through

To your world.

What next? Try and Find you, Rush to your side first thing and try to casually explain that a video game character broke out of their code to see them?

Maybe set things up first? Comfy living, then an easy way to find you? Or go off clues from things you used to say or areas he saw behind you? Or did he get lucky and he’s two feet away?

Man, He should have checked the code for your location…..No time to lose!

------------------

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒍

-----------------

𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 🌹

——

Truth be told, he got quite lucky.

A library is where he arrived, one he recognized as your hiding spot to study, or simply relax.

So, he found every tome he thought relevant on what he needed to know of the basics of your world, aswell as the one he last witnessed you study, and sat himself in the seat next to where you usually did, awaiting your arrival.

Was it timely? Perhaps, Perhaps not.

You’d been slightly (Very) annoyed that for some reason, none of your Riddle cards would show his appearance. The Chibi was no where to be seen, and your homescreen vacant of him.

So as you made your way to your spot, you nearly shrieked because either thats a damn good cosplay or Riddle Rosehearts was very casually reading the history textbook your teacher assigned while sitting four feet away from your usual spot.

Steel blue eyes scoped to check the noise, and sat up instantly.

“Just as I expected, you’d arrive here sooner or later. You certainly took your time, however.”

Before you could process the fact he sounded suspiciously like Ciel Phantomhive, he quite literally summoned a tea set. Out of thin air.

And was just staring. Most definitely waiting for you to sit down casually like he didn’t summon an entire china set with piping hot tea in a magicless world.

This was the real deal. Mommy Issues Supreme was now officially your problem. Good Luck.

————————

𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒚♣

——

He remembered the name of the bakery down the street you visited.

As a joke, when you’d finished book one, you’d ordered a Strawberry Tart. He couldn’t exactly remember if you actually ate it, or gave it away, but it was funny, regardless.

Using Paint the Roses, he altered a napkin into a very nice resume, and he got a job there.

When Trey up and vanished from your homescreen, you’d gone to get a pastry to cheer yourself up. Not the best coping skill, but hey, it works.

It was pretty late, and it seemed they were closing up, so you planned to just be in and out, not wanting to make their job any harder.

The little bell rung as you entered, and the little alarms in your head went off when you arrived at the counter, and a-wait, why would someone cosplay at their job? Trey and working at a Bakery fit together, but…wait a second. Thats not a wig, and thats not contacts either.

If Ingame Trey was missing, and this guy looked exactly like him…..Nope, Not Possible.

Trying to play it casual , you ordered the usual and once you had it, sat down as you normally would.

But when you took a bite of your treat, it tasted like….Strawberry. Then Chestnut. What the hell.

You unintentionally had an odd staring contest with the current cashier, who then held out a scarily familiar pen, chuckling a bit as he placed it on the counter.

“Surprise.”

After making his way around the counter, he sat down on the other side of the table, doing his best to not freak you out too much.

“Yea, I know this might be a bit confusing, and It’s probably not easy to process all this, so take your time, and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Great, because you had several.

——————-

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓♦

——

Social Media Stalking but not Stalking was his forte.

The first thing he did was make pretty much every account he could on medias he knew you had. Like Tumblr.

He decided it would be way too freaky to just pop up out of nowhere, so as he was thinking and exploring, he took a few selfies and photoshoots here are there.

And WOW. They blew up. At first he thought it was the general math of Attractive Guy + Good Photos of him = Alot of Views. He had sorta kinda forgot other people knew about Twist until he noticed the flood of “Cater IRL” and “THE Cater Cosplay” comments. Which gave him an idea.

After the annoyance of all your Caters being lost in the code sauce, you messed around online until you accidentally pulled up a page with the greatest Cater Cosplay you had ever witnessed.

You had to do a double take when the follow button said “Follow Back”. You complied with the buttons wishes and followed them back.

After a while, you somehow ended up dming back and forth with him, and his strangely Cater coded texts. You also discovered that it apparently wasn’t a cosplay, and just his natural appearance was scarily similar to Caters..and his name was Cater, which was accidentally revealed by a Starbucks barista calling out after finishing making his drink while you were calling.

Part of you suspected that this could be the real Cater, with all the math adding up, and the other half of you called you a fucking idiot for that.

Little did you know the first one was exactly what Cater was hoping for.

With that, he managed to do some kinda social media stalking ( but not like, Rook Levels, DW) and found your general area based on area matching (TY Google Maps!) and nearly jumped for joy when he realized it was where he was too.

He subtly managed to sneak that in conversation, and set up a meetup between you two, a brunch and phone shopping. Weird Pick on the last one, but you decided not to judge.

The first thing he said when you arrived confused you, alot.

With a bright smile, he waved you over.

“Hey! Long Time no see!”

Ignoring the aggressive red flag in that statement with a simple “Maybe he meant since we called” as if you didn’t call him last night to plan this out, either way, you scooted in.

You two got so distracted chatting, at one point making up a game of fake gossiping the craziest things to see if anyone reacted, and for your own entertainment.

Because of that, your drink went warm, and as soon as you mentioned it, you got your answer to the “Where did my Caters go.” question.

Why? Because, as if this had happened before, he simply refroze it. Magically.

As you stared in pure awe and confusion, he grimaced upon the realization his cover was pretty much blown.

“Whoops…Lets just pretend that didn’t happen, and I’ll explain later, ‘Kay?”

You just had to pray nobody witnessed that, as Area 51 did definitely did not sound like Cay-Cays ideal Vacay.

——

𝑨𝒄𝒆♥

—

He thought it would be fucking HILARIOUS to prank you, as, unfortunately for you, he ended up in your house, only to find out you were asleep, which gave him the opportunity to PUA (Prank Upon Arrival)

For the next several hours of your waking life, Ace of Hearts playing cards of varying sizes would be infesting your house, or when you’d put something down and look away, there was either a card on it or it had been replaced by a card.

You were also robbed of leftovers you’d been saving, and a few snacks by this card demon.

After you left the house vacant (you fool), the Knave struck again, this time sneaking out and guessing your next move, heading off to a cafe because you needed caffeine after the card madness, until you had already ordered, and you had turned on Twist while waiting for your drink.

Quietly, he slid into the chair infront of you as you grumbled.

“He’s not on the homescreen either—Where the hell are all my Ace cards?”

Hehe, Infront of you. This is the best setup ever.

Leaning back on the chair, he couldn’t contain a grin as he faked obliviousness.

“I dunno. Maybe try looking around a lil’ more?”

Not paying much attention to who was talking to you in your moment of despair , you sighed, swiping back to the home screen.

“They’re not those kinds of cards.”

“Aren’t like, five of them card themed?”

“Four right now, since Ace has seemingly gone and fucked off to another dimension:”

“Yeaaa, about that. It was not as easy to do as you’re making it sound. Just saying.”

You looked up for a split second, then did a double take and nearly skyrocketed out of your chair, making indecipherable confusion noises while he laughed his ass off, totally soaking in the success of his perfect surprise you had unintentionally enabled.

While you stood frozen in shock, he simply grabbed your things, put them in your hand, S̶t̶o̶l̶e̶ grabbed your coffee, and whisked you out the door.

I pray for you, good luck dealing with him.

——

𝑫𝒆𝒖𝒄𝒆♠

——

Woke up in either your garage or kitchen, and was confused. Rightfully so.

Since he couldn’t really find you around, but at least recognized this as your house, he just waddled around more or less, fixing random things here and cleaning up there while trying to find clues to where you might be, or if he should just wait here.

He finally found a grocery list, which you had forgotten, and spent the next 10 minutes trying to find the nearest grocery store while unintentionally locking himself out of the house in the process, so made the genius decision to hope you were still at the grocery store and dashed over.

You’re doing great, dude.

Anywho, he got lucky, because in the middle of carrying off your shopping bags, your notification that your AP was full went off, and as you went to use it, you noticed a severe lack of Deuce on your homescreen.

This lead to sitting on a bench and getting distracted trying to figure out why the hell this glitch had only affected your Deuce cards, so you weren’t paying much attention when you heard a voice somewhat far off but close.

“Oh hey! There you are!”

Assuming it was for someone else, you continued trying to fix the “glitch”, then paused when you heard the voice from before right infront of you.

“Do you need help with carrying those bags?”

The words “I’m good, thanks.” died on your tongue when you looked up, only to be face to face with the guy you’d been suffering trying to figure out where he went for 20 minutes. Ingame. In a VIDEO GAME.

Internally, you practically short-circuited, after you panicked, he started panicking, and you both ended up in a weird confusion panic that had the energy of the spidermans pointing at eachother meme.

Great job! You have now acquired a German Shepard Golden Retriever mix in human form.

————

Bonus :

——

𝑪𝒉𝒆'𝒏𝒚𝒂⤵➟

——

Unlike most of them, he had absolutely zero trouble hopping into your world.

However, instead of revealing himself right away, he decided to be the ghost of good deeds and mischief. And a random black cat you’d suspiciously find on your window sill demanding pets or cuddles.

Luckily transforming, flying, invisibility, and the rest of his magic ability seemed to work just fine.

Sometimes, you’d randomly find things placed in unusual places, spoons on the ceiling, for example, the paintings or pictures sometimes randomly taking on very funny faces, teacups and plates floating around at 2am, leaving you to assume it was a sleepy hallucination.

Other times you’d be aggravatingly trying to fix something, look away for one moment, and not only was it fixed, it looked almost brand new. Or you’d open the fridge or pantry, and notice the lack of food, then open it again, and i’d be filled to the brim.

You never noticed anything too strange on Twist itself however until you got bored one day, and decided to replay Heartstabyls chapters, only to realize Che’nya was…completely missing.

Out of sheer curiosity, you checked his Pomfieore Chapter appearance. Nothing. Gone.

Trying to see if it was just the WIFI connection, you moved rooms, only to see a blink of purple in the corner of your eye.

Lounging in the air by the window, tail swaying lazily, he peeked over, then grinned his signature grin.

“Nya-ice to meet you~”

———

Yay! Thats all!!

Holy shit I can’t believe I wrote this, feel free to take me out (Date or Assassination I really don’t care)

Alright! I might do more but they might not be in dorm order, see ya!

[hugshughes]

my tears ricochet R. McGroarty

Rutger McGroarty x fem!reader

synopsis - Based on “my tears ricochet” by Tay obvs. Reader is on the umich soccer team and when they lose the NCAA championship game, and Rutger is there, reader is confused and sad in a way that he would come to this game after their terrible breakup.

wc - 3.0k!

contains - reader is on the umich soccer team! lightly edited! angst!!!!!!!! then a sprinkle of fluff. reader has a panic attack and has trouble breathing, crying, descriptions of a terrible breakup, kissing, happy ending, lmk!

an - this was probably the hardest one so far, other than the last great american dynasty, which i promise is coming soon! ALSO. 200 FOLLOWERS????? THANK U GUYS! I swear I’m trying to speed up the process of writing these but it’s harder than I thought. I've been getting more requests than usual lately! You guys are all so cute btw. I've gotten multiple about Behind My Back with Nolan part 2 and it's on the way! I'm so slow at writing smut. Anyways hope you enjoyyyy!

-

we gather here, we line up, weepin’ in a sunlit room. and if i’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too.

The final whistle blew, the game was over. You crouched to the ground, palm flat on the field as you wept. You could barely breathe as the UNC team flooded the field, screaming in victory, group-hugging 10 feet from you. 4-3 in overtime. You dropped to sit on the ground, arms loosely wrapped around your knees as you stared at the crowd.

The sea of Carolina blue jumping up and down, smiling, shouting. The motionless pit of maize and navy, crying, grief, disappointment. In you. They’re all disappointed in you, that’s what you tell yourself.

Your best friend sits next to you, enveloping you in a hug, you hear her whimpers, you feel her tears.

“I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head at you, hugging you tighter than ever before pulling away, holding your face, wiping your cheeks.

“No, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault. Okay? It isn’t. You scored 2 of our goals tonight, and you just did so good okay? This isn’t your fault.”

You looked at the ground, trying to catch your breath. You’re only a sophomore, you’ll have more championships to win. She didn’t though, she was a senior.

“This was just your last game, and I just- I let you down and coach and-”

“Honey, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. You cannot blame this game just on you.”

You hesitantly nod, letting her help you to your feet. The rest of your team is hugging, some crying, some seething, some trying to smile.

You run to your coach, she opens her arms wide to hug you. She’s trying to smile, trying to tell you that it’s okay as you heave out the word sorry over and over, sobbing as you try to catch your breath, to no avail.

Your chest heaves as you try to breathe, but nothing is going in or out, you’re about to have a panic attack. You grip your jersey where your heart is, the navy material soiled from tears and sweat. Your coach lets out a curse as she realizes what’s going on, your best friend sees you, running over, holding your arms, trying to calm you down.

You can’t, you were warm before, but now it’s like you’re suffocating.

“I- I can’t! Fuck, I-”

The worse you cry the less you can breathe, but the less you’re breathing the more you’re crying.

Your trainer runs over, hand on your back as she urges you off to the sidelines. You know there are dozens of cameras on you, making everything ten times worse.

It’s time for you guys to shake hands but instead, you are urged off the field, down through the tunnel, and to the locker rooms. They sit you down in your designated stall, offering water, fanning you with random papers, holding your hands, everything as you start to breathe again. When you’re finally steadily breathing again, you feel embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry! Shit- I just-”

They just shush you, hugging you tight. You, as the star player of Michigan Women’s Soccer are informed you’re doing press with your best friend, the captain, now. You almost cry again, you know someone is bound to ask about your leaving the field early.

But here you are, sitting next to your best friend, holding hands under the table for some form of stability as you look at the reporters and flashing cameras in front of you, fans behind them.

Your best friend answers the majority of the first chunk of questions, you only chiming in a few times. Your name is called by a reporter, a question just for you.

“Would you like to comment on what happened with your early departure after the game?”

You tense, your best friend’s hold on your hand tightens, comforting you as much as possible.

“Oh um, yeah. So uh, I was having some trouble breathing and stuff and I needed to go back to the locker room. I apologize if I came across as rude to any of the UNC girls, I still definitely want to congratulate them.”

The reporter nods, and you get sad smiles from almost everyone you can see. You get another question about your performance.

“I think I definitely could’ve played better, I’m disappointed in my performance tonight, I’ve apologized to teammates and coaches. I did as well as I could in the moment, Carolina is a really talented group of girls. I-”

You see him, Rutger fucking McGroaty, standing at the back of the group, Ethan, Mark, Dylan, and a few other hockey players with him. Your voice catches, and your mind is blank.

even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me? ‘cause i loved you, i swear i loved you. ‘til my dying day.

The eye contact is full of pain, you feel your heart stutter. Your breathing that had finally started evening out is suddenly picking back up, but also somehow slowing down? It just, hurts. Why was he here? Why would he do that to you?

What was he trying to do? Was he trying to see you? Was he just trying to watch the game?

You looked to your coach, the attention of the reporters on your best friend, with pleading eyes. She nods for you to leave, and you silently thank her, slipping out of the seat and discreetly exiting the room, having to walk right by the guys, and some fans along the way. You wave at a little girl dressed head to toe in maize and blue, your jersey adorning her little body.

You crouched down next to her, letting her grab your hand.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you doing?”

She smiles brightly, making your heart swell. She has your number drawn out on her cheek, and a Michigan temporary tattoo on the other.

“I’m good! It was fun watching you play, even if you couldn’t win. I saw you crying, are you okay? You still did really really awesome, even my brother thinks so!”

She gestures to her slightly older brother, a boy who looked about 8.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be okay. Well sweetheart, if you’d like it, I would love to sign your jersey.”

Her face lights up, she squeals and hugs you, which you accept. She turns around and you sign right next to your number on her maize jersey. She thanks you and squeezes your hand while taking a picture with you. You’re finishing up with them when her brother almost shouts.

“Are those the Mich hockey guys?”

You freeze, eyes darting from the ground to the little boy and then up to Rutger's shocked face. Rutger quickly puts his fan persona on, greeting the kids.

'cause i loved you, i swear i loved you. 'til my dying day.

You realize you're position, frozen and staring at Rutger in front of all these people, and you quickly turn to go. You get about ten feet when you hear someone quietly shout your name, then twice. Someone, being Rutger. You didn't wanna talk to him. You really did want to talk to him, you just knew you couldn't.

You are in the tunnel at this point, striding a few more feet to make sure no one can see you before stopping when he says your name once again. When you turn around he stares at you silently, his eyes filled with hurt. You wish you could run into his arms, but you can't, you can't.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace, and you're the hero flying around, saving face. and if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake?

"What are you doing here Rut?"

You could feel the tears lining your eyes, pushing to break past your waterline. He has the same tears, which hurt you even more.

"I'm sorry."

That you lost? That he came here? That he called for you? That he broke your heart?

"For what, Rutger?"

The tears were close to spilling for both of you. He lets out a shaky exhale, wiping his nose and sniffling.

"I- Um, everything? I just, I'm sorry."

cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

You didn't know what to do. Part of you was about to throw yourself into his arms while another part was about to sprint as far away from him as you could.

He stood there, quickly wiping a tear that fell. In this moment, losing the game was the farthest thing from your mind. Everything in your mind was just completely overwhelmed with him. At one point he was everything to you, you knew in part of you he still was.

we gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. some to throw, some to make a diamond ring.

When you and Rutger had broken up, it had been terrible for both of you. Rutger wasn't allowed to be alone afterward for two weeks, not that you knew that, his friends wanted to tell you and try to get you back to him but he wouldn't let them. He was too embarrassed by the idea. His friends begging for you for him because he couldn't handle a breakup? Please. What Rutger doesn't know is that you would've run straight back to him if you'd known. He was your lifeline.

Your relationship was like a dream, you'd started dating in July of 2022 and broke up the next May. You guys were inseparable, in a cute way. You guys were always there for each other, no matter what. But out of nowhere, in April, Rutger started freaking out about everything happening in his life. The team had just lost the frozen four, and he was just hurt from that and he was not himself. Even weeks after, when the other boys had seemingly gotten over it, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling in his chest.

The feeling started affecting other parts of his life, too. Specifically, your relationship. He'd become way cut off from you, and a lot more mean. It went on for three weeks before you broke up with him. You just couldn't keep trying when you were getting nothing back, even though it hurt you so badly to do it.

you know i didn't want to have to haunt you. but what a ghostly scene. you wear the same jewels that i gave you, as you bury me.

You rub your eyes before looking up from the ground to him, and then you see it. The ring he once gave you on a chain around his neck. He'd kept it when you gave it back to him.

You remember every detail about the night he gave you that ring. Where he'd taken you, how he held you in the cold of February nights in Ann Arbor. You remember his confession of love to you. How he was worried you'd think he was proposing, how he shakily opened the ring box when you got back to his room, and how he said he wanted to give it to you in your scenic snowy walk through a local park but had gotten too nervous. You remember how you kissed him, and how he brought tears to your eyes.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace. 'cause when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave. and if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

Him being here, crying, apologizing, you losing the game, everything was just so much, but when you looked into his eyes he was still your everything. Your boy, the one that made you fall in love with every part of him, every crack and crevice, every flaw. He was still yours, no matter if you were together or apart. And you were his too, you knew that, you both did.

You can't imagine what your friends would think if you'd told them how close you were to kissing Rutger right now. They would never believe you, not after the months you spent trying oh so hard to convince yourself you were better off without him, no matter how false that statement was.

You knew you would need him, always did. He didn't know that though, when he would stalk your social media all summer, seeing you post in your little white linen dresses, having fun at the beach with your friends, he convinced himself he'd never get another chance with you. And you knew that if he tried hard enough, he could completely win you back, 100 times over.

and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home. and you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones.

He was your safe haven, whenever you were with him everything was just good, you didn't have to worry about anything with him, he wouldn't let you. He was your person.

You just stared at him, thoughts running a thousand miles per minute. You wanted him, you needed him. You knew it, too. He was always gonna be the only man that ever came to mind when you heard a love song by Taylor Swift, the only man you thought of when you saw a husband and wife with a little baby on your for you page, the only one.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace.

He sniffled again, and you practically lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into the crook of his neck. You started to cry again as his arms went around your hips, holding you so tightly. He was so warm, he smelled so good, he was definitely home for you if you had one. You felt his tears fall onto the base of your neck. He was mumbling i love yous and i'm sorrys like prayers. You just said the three words back, telling him it was okay because you knew it would be. As long as you had him.

and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. cursing my name, wishing i stayed.

You pulled away from him, just a little, his tight hold on you barely let up, he couldn't let you go. You cupped his cheeks with your hands, looking into his now bloodshot, but otherwise beautiful blue eyes. You giggled, this was so crazy, you couldn't even believe it. Your amusement at the situation must've made Rutger feel embarrassed because he shook his head from your hold and buried his head into your neck. You could see his rose tinted ears. You ran your hands through his hair.

You had not the slightest idea what this meant for you two, but it definitely felt right, like you were whole again. You knew that he would come back to your life, you always felt it. And you knew you guys were gonna have to have a serious long talk about everything, but right now it just felt so good to take solace in him, acting like you were never broken up.

you turned into your worst fears. and you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. crossing out the good years.

If you knew one thing, it was that Rutger McGroaty was your boy, and you were his girl. No matter how much time kept you apart you'd always find each other again. You loved him, too much to lose him. Especially now that you were both given another chance.

"Rut?"

He moved his head a little, adjusting his arms around your hips, grumbling out an 'mhm?'

"I'm really happy you're here."

He came out of hiding at that, smiling at you, you smiled back, partially because of how cute he looked with slightly puffy eyes and rosy cheeks.

"For real?"

You gave him a pointed look, 'duh', written all over your features. He smiled brighter, his perfect teeth on display, oh you so hoped he would never experience any teeth loss during his hockey career, even though he'd probably look fucking adorable.

"I love you. I'm not letting you down ever again, I promise. I'm gonna be perfect, okay?"

You looked at him like he had just hung the stars one by one. You shook your head mumbling something about how you loved him so much and he'd never let you down and he was already perfect in your book before pulling him into a kiss. He smiled so hard into the kiss, and so did you.

Even though you'd just lost one of the most important soccer games in your life, you'd just won someone that was more important than any soccer trophy you could ever receive.

and you're cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

[elderwisp]

hi! Im so sorry if this is the wrong place to ask, I've looked for answers for this before so I'm just not sure,,

i absolutely adore your sims and your story! Its completely inspired me to create a story w/ my sims as well! the only thing is I'm quite overwhelmed with it all and I don't know where to start :(

do you have any tips? Whats your process? there's so many things to use and I'm just curious what you use! Thanks in advance and no pressure to answer if this is the wrong place :))<33

HAI :D OMG EXCITING <3 no worries! my inbox is always open for assistance and i'd love to help! here's a bunch of tips ranging from writing to technical to artsy stuff:

the start:

⟡ i should preface this story did not begin as one typically would which is say following the example of how to write a novel in a year. my writing style for this project started out with my interest in the characters created. my desire to wanting to know why certain oc's acted the way they did and that's where it all began. what started out as short stories of certain individuals reworked into something much more authentic. this was the hook for me so you gotta find that one sliver of interest and run with it. you can most certainly utilize tools like character sheets, pinboards, storyboards to assist you but i find that if i'm not connected to the story, it's difficult to use them

⟡ with that being said LOL invest the time in fleshing out your character because when you understand how they work, when you believe in them, the easier it'll be in creating scenes and writing dialogue. for me, it's almost intuitive writing for characters to the point where i will easily check myself and rewrite a scene because it didn't align with a certain character

⟡ while the influence of your own ideals/experiences eventually bleed into an oc, it's important to identify that, otherwise a cast of diverse characters eventually feel the same. this was something i struggled with for years which is why i could never really begin until now!

⟡ it's good to ask yourself what sort of story do you want to create. the best question is is it plot driven or character driven? what sort of tone do you want to set? do you want to blend them? i think there's a huge stress on just doing things for fun and not taking things seriously but i do want to challenge others to consider what that might look like for others. sometimes people like to create grand posts or fun slice of life posts and neither is more valid than the other. it's truly up to the author

technical stuff:

⟡ i'm gonna be honest with you, i'm not as organized as i once was in how i go about plotting things however! in the beginning, i would utilize sticky notes with ideas written on them and then shuffle around how i wanted things to play out. now i use a dingy little notebook LMAO but i've heard good things about milanote! as for dialogue, i do use google docs but i do think they're under fire for using your things for ai training or somethin O_O

⟡ i do use photoshop to edit my photos and that usually looks like cropping, color/contrast enhancing and sharpening. i do add dialogue last because when i sharpen it all together, the font looks cwispy! there's this mini tut by @/stinkrascal on how to format the text so it's all even if that's the style you're going for! anyways it changed my LIFE lmao! right here are some free alternatives. also this is an older post in which i shared my process and it includes some tips and tricks with photoshop (you can also see how i used to format text lmaooo)

⟡ knowledge is power. if i find myself really struggling with certain aspects, like maybe the logistics of a character, i'll set aside some time to learn from certain authors, commentators or directors. even if it's a short clip of seeing how they approach something as simple as their thought process behind how a scene supported a character to something as small as the significance of Isha's hat from Arcane

misc writing tips:

⟡ ooh! because tessellate is such a large group of characters, it can be challenging to structuring a plot. so i started off by slowly introducing characters rather than all at once. i also break up character plots into arcs but with that comes filler episodes to help space out big moments. i like to utilize filler episodes as bite sized pieces that introduces the readers to newer characters while also allowing there to be breaks in between. those filler posts highlight certain events, ways of living, etc that might influence how things play out in the future. a good example is kai, we're nearing the end of his arc but all of those little moments in between really helped shaped how things played out!

⟡ when i think of conflict, i think of it a lot like a boiling pot. it starts out at a neutral temperature (your foundation), before bubbles begin to form (minor annoyances between characters), steam hissing (the lead up) to an eventual lid popping off (the conflict). the build up is the most important part to the pay off!

⟡ my best piece of advice for darker themes is really understand the topic and stray away from stereotypes as it diminishes a lot of depth in certain subjects as well as does more harm than good. recognize that at the end of the day a weakness does not define a person as they are a person through and through. approach it with compassion rather than judgement.

⟡ i know i know everyone says to read your dialogue out loud and that is incredibly important however while doing that, think about the flow too. as a writer, because we are goal oriented, sometimes dialogue can be turned into what will progress the plot which makes things feel a bit unnatural and sometimes lacking the proper flow. remember to consider the personality of a character. how is a line delivered through a character who is brash versus one who is a bit more reclusive? also! here's a great video about the stiff dialogue in veilguard that shows what unnatural dialogue can sound like.

⟡ remember, comparison is the thief of joy. it's easy to get caught up in recognition and likes. there was a time where i consistently got 3-5 readers and that was it. there are moments now where certain posts are incredibly inconsistent in engagement and sure, it can be disheartening but then i think about the handful of individuals that consistently comment, the specific asks about how a certain post made them feel seen and interact and i remember why it's i chose to write. it isn't the recognition i seek, it's the connection. it's important to have that one thing that gives you the strength to continue because truthfully, things can be inconsistent and that's okay.

the artsy stuff:

⟡ i am a huge fan of cinema, animation and photography. i think consuming a lot of media and art has helped train my eye especially if i feel as if my screenshots are becoming repetitive. it's good to see how different directors go about framing dialogue. comic panels are amazing as well since artists find new unique ways of captivating an audience through levels like coloring, framing, posing and such! it's honestly why i introduced some vertical shots to black out bars in story posts because of that unique angle! remember, media is meant to inspire you! after watching the latest season of Arcane (haven't finished it yet tho) it genuinely relit a fire under my ass LMAO

⟡ different angles, lighting and positioning can help elevate a story. the aesthetics of a story can really add another layer of depth however it's important to remember that it is a supporting role, not the entire role

⟡ i do use my own reshade and i've formatted it to have similarities of a film camera as well as my preference of color correcting. i lean heavier towards contrast, colors and shadows however i always encourage for people to look into what supports their vision the best! the lightroom shader by quint and pd80's contrast/brightness/saturation shader help with color grading in game as they do have sliders that tweak certain colors. the sepia shader is great for adding a cinematic tint but it can conflict with relight and the way the lights are presented. relight of course can add those shadows in lighting. i'll sometimes have two presets, one for up close shots to further shots because sometimes zooming out can create inconsistencies in your preset as things might look to muggy or like a disco ball LOL (ps what helps with that is adjusting bloom if used and messing around with shadows/midtones/highlights/saturation with that lightroom shader)

last but not least, a story is a labor of love, it's a tool in which authors can utilize the pen to their own manner whether it's to communicate ideas or to simply tell a tale. don't be afraid to dive deep into the layers of your story and remember each piece can be important factor but it's entirely up to you as to where you want that focus to be. it does take a lot of courage to start but i truly believe if it's something you cherish, it'll always be worth it!

i do wish you the best of luck! thank you for trusting me enough to give you some tips and tricks! i tried to lean more into the more finite details as i felt like this is what truly helped me throughout the years! <3 also here is a complimentary meme i made:

[amelias-calamity-quintet]

More Writing Advice - MoaH Edition

I got an message (thank you @doubtfulloser) asking for more writing advice, and I figured I'd try to get some more thoughts on the page. Right now I'm not entirely sure what else to add to my current list as more tangible advice, so I'm going to try instead to summarize the energy I try to get with Mark of a Hero, my current ongoing writing project. This is honestly going to be a little funky to word, so bear with me as I try to capture a vibe. This is also mostly about fanfic, but I've applied similar processes to my original works as well. Again, this is what works for me, but I hope it helps.

MoaH is very roughly outlined for the whole series. I know where the books need to go on three different levels: act arc, book arc, and series arc. Some of these are like. Three bullet points long, but it helps give me a trajectory. It helps too that in writing this specific type of fic (Legend of Zelda original legend/AU/there's no fandom name for this yet), I can benchmark the books by dungeons. Each book of MoaH has an introduction arc, at least three "shrine" arcs, a bonus dungeon arc, and a full dungeon arc. Those can be moved around, mostly, into the order they need to be to keep the books a little more varied. That's also a very pulled back way to look at it, but it definitely can help imagine a five act structure that way.

Also, don't worry as much about stories seeming formulaic. If someone knows there's a formula in storytelling, they'll find it. And in telling a story, you're going to see behind the curtains the most. Of course you will see a formula. But if MoaH is an example of anything, it's that playing with that formula can be part of the story itself too. The story sets up very clearly that Link in MoaH is in fact the Hero. But to everyone in the story, they don't know that. And MoaH plays a lot with expectation. Because the reader has expectations from the series, the characters have expectations from living in the world, and there's still the story being told because the premise of the characters being adults at the start of the story already skews expectation (this is why outfits have a huge role narratively as much as mechanically too).

And, if my other major fic, Goddess of Secrecy, taught me anything, it's that as long as the formula is fun (there were 14 dungeons in that one and people stuck through it), who cares? Sometimes a routine can be comfortable. And there's plenty of storytelling out there. You can be the comfort part of it and let other people write the mindblowing formula breaking stuff. (This will also get me into a tangent on accessibility in fantasy but we need more base expectation media too, particularly for adults to get them back into reading.)

But that was a lot more actual writing advice than I thought I'd get so I need to get back to what I said I'd actually talk about and that's vibes. Generally in writing MoaH, I'm trying to capture the energy of Zelda as close to Nintendo as I can. It's the biggest compliments I've gotten that have told me I've managed that in my stories. It's also the hardest to describe, so I'll try to outline the thought process my story beats go through to make sure they reach that vibe:

First, would Nintendo do it? In general, in any of their franchises, would they tell this kind of story? Usually this forces curbing the level of "maturity" of the story (Nintendo has never gone passed rated M), but it means relying on environmental storytelling and implication in exchange. This is the biggest cutoff of them all, but it also means figuring out ways to be more original with the ideas, and usually leads to better stories. To that point, Nintendo has also been a company that has used ever last bit of their tech to make good games, despite limitations. This moderation strives to do the same.

Second, is it fun? If we want to capture the energy of Zelda, even if it's going to include timeline junk, the core of Nintendo's philosophy has always been "make good game first, good story second." Writing an original Zelda novel then needs to have a similar approach. Is the plot focused on the spirit of exploration first and the enjoyment from exploring that world that the games have or on the larger narrative stuff I'm trying to do? How do we balance that better?

Third, how would it play out in a game? This is harder for MoaH because I don't think it could be a game ever. Not because the mechanics aren't there but because of scale (there are 9 countries). Still, in general application, how would the mechanics of MoaH play out. Using RPGs (western and Japanese) as well as TTRPGs like D&D to track power scaling helps a lot with this. The abilities should never be one to one, but as a reference point, this can help. It can also double back into the previous point, would this be a fun section of a game to play? If not, how do I fix that? It's also important on this point to remember how game plots and book plots are differently driven. Game plots can be paced by the player, book plots have to be paced by the author.

Fourth, honestly, can I picture this happening in an anime? Not to be an absolute massive weeb, but genuinely. Having not read Journey to the West (yet), capturing the energy of Zelda storytelling requires looking at Japanese storytelling. And my closest point of entry on that is anime. On what those stories focus on. And the basis of storytelling in Japan, like the Odyssey is in the west, is Journey to the West. From the Sparksnotes version of that I have, that's a higher emphasis on character(s) and interpersonal growth over the journey itself. There are still obstacles (dungeons) that will result in a journey, but the interactions on your three-to-five-man-band are way more central. This is, again, where RPGs can be good reference points. And it's why MoaH always has multiple named characters in the scene as often as it can.

Finally, maybe surprisingly to be last, does it fit Zelda? I mean lorewise generally with this, mostly because, Nintendo does not care about the lore connections between their games. While the timeline is fun to mess with, it should always be secondary to the narrative being built so that the games can be standalone. MoaH can be standalone, even though it has lore connecting it to my other big fic, GoS, and the timeline. The legends have always been loosely strung together. If it can incorporate the lore of another game, fantastic. But it is always the last concern because lore connections have never been the goal between Zelda games. And it's not the goal with MoaH. And to that point, as a narrative element within MoaH, there is reason to believe that in canon, that lore loss is due to time. How stories change over it, how they get recorded, how they get retold, how they become legends over history.

As a last half point to the previous but that paragraph was massive already, is this relying on a Zelda trope as a crutch or does it add to the story? It's very easy to namedrop a character. It's another thing to make them feel like that character in game. I can call my main duo Link and Zelda all I want. Do they feel like them? How are they still original to their plots? I think with MoaH a lot of folks will get thrown off on this one because it starts rivals to lovers. Zelda hates Link (he did also break into a temple and she currently sees him as a criminal). That's kinda antithetical to their whole eternal love story though. So why? Spoilers, mostly. But a huge part of Zelda's personality is following through with how Nintendo characterized her and how I see her growing up as an adult. Personally, I don't know a spirited, politically conscious, highly empathic femme who didn't grow up to be an angry (justified), politically active, still highly empathic adult. Of course she would be mad at Link for a flagrant disregard for the law and disrespect to a holy cultural site for self-imposed vigilantism. There are laws that need to be fixed, but there are systems to fix them (this is also a chaotic good x lawful good relationship).

There is probably a lot more I could break down on MoaH and its structure but it would inevitably give away the entire books and all the major themes. For now, I think that's all I can say (and this is already a lot), but I'll try to circle back on these points after one of the books is all the way out.

I guess, if anything else, read everything. Genres you like, genres you don't, traditional publications, self publications, fanfic, the gambit. If the goal of art studies is to improve your art, then reading is the closest comparison we have for writing. And also, it's ok to be kinda bad at something. That's where we all start. It's ok to be pop fiction, there's a reason it's popular. The more hoops you add to yourself about how original or stylized a story should be or the kind of reputation it's going to have, the more you're going to get in your own head about whether or not you can tell the story. Someone will always find a way to be judgemental. Don't let that someone be you.

[descaladumidera]

“Nobody Asked About My Writing” Meme

I got tagged by the wonderful @amethyst-noir, so you all get unnecessary infos about my current WIPs thrown in your face. And as I am, currently, able to write and share my fics, I shall even do this meme.

Answers below the cut, 'cause this got long.

 1. what are you currently working on?

I have three WIPs right now that I'm actively working on. Which. Is insane. 'Cause usually I have one and then I might throw a one-shot in-between writing chapters. But. Yeah. So, today I've finished the next chapter of like lead in my heart and I'm about to edit it. I've also started the sequel to give it 'til i beg (give me some more), so … I'll hopefully finish that at one point, so my Fratt peers get more juicy dom/sub action. And then I have started to actually write a little something that I've only thrown into a Discord before in the form of a quick idea. It's titled Five Times Frank Fucks Matt From Behind and One Time He Wants to See Matt's Face. Yes. That short. So. Yeah. I'm currently writing the first chapter, but have outlines for all the chapters.

2. summarize your current project

like lead in my heart: NWH rewrite with a twist. Local horned vigilante takes on a more prominent role in Peter's life during the events of NWH and after. give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel: Matt tries to avoid Frank after what happened in the first part. He is not very good at that. Five Times: Exactly what it says on the tin. Frank fucks Matt five times from behind and the last time he wants to see his face.

3. summarize your current project poorly

like lead in my heart: Local horned vigilante gets too involved in teenager's life. And then he fucks the teenager's doppelganger. give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel: Too embarrassed to function and also too horny to function. Five Times: Too much fucking, not enough talking.

4. describe your favorite character or characters

Matt Murdock: Gets fucked over by life and personal bad choices again and again and again. Needs some hugs and lots of therapy. He also has very interesting alternate versions from other dimensions. Frank Castle: Got fucked over by life royally, meaning his wife and kids died in front of his eyes. Decided the best coping mechanism is killing the scum of the earth. Also needs therapy. I don't recommend hugging him, though.

5. post a line from your current project without any context

like lead in my heart, chapter 8: Peter needed Tony Stark, not Matt Murdock. give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel: And then he had jumped out of the window, like the mature adult he was. Five Times: Things like this were never planned.

6. how do you get through writers block?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

7. would you want to live in the world of your current work?

Abso-fucking-lutely not! The Marvel universe gets attacked approximately every 0.2 seconds by something or someone that can kill me and my loved ones with one thought and I would rather eat chalk.

8. briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline

I do not outline. Outlining means that my brain goes, "Oh! So we're done with this one, onto the next idea!" and I'll never write it. The only "outlines" I do are when I ramble on about an idea in a Discord or to friends and then decide to flesh it out and write it.

9. what is the aesthetic of your current project?

I. I don't know what that means? I mean, like lead in my heart is kinda action and found family and romance and everything all in one, I guess? The other two are basically PWP, more or less. Maybe there is a bit of plot.

10. what song sums up your current work the best?

like lead in my heart

give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel

Five Times Frank Fucks Matt From Behind and One Time He Wants to See Matt's Face

Tagging: @atypical-snowman, @jeromesankaraao3, and @kimmycup. And whoever else wants to do this!

[callsignfate]

ACK- long authors note.

(TL;DR: I post once a day minimum, I take too long to edit posts in my own overly complicated way of writing, and it's getting a tad bit out of hand. I love posting, but I want to make sure I have content for the long run. If I post more than once a day, it's kinda a bonus post.)

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Fate here,

I just wanted to let you know that I post once a day. Minimum. If I post more than once in a day, that was just something I finished early, or I decided to post something different the following day and decided why the fuck not?

If you see a vote, that just means I've finished writing all of the things on the vote list, and they just need to be edited. On my last vote, I did say I'd post the top three that day, but the Valeria x fem!reader story (Personal Exile) took WAY longer to edit than I had initially realized. I had added more, didn't like some of it, and rewrote it. It's a process.

For anyone wondering how I write its kinda convoluted. I write on my phone notes app because I'm chronically busy. I live on a farm so it's very 'go go go' with little breaks to go to my computer. So I write a VERY rough draft in my notes app. I then copy and paste it over to my computer to a Google document. It's then in the stage where I read it, rewrite it, and read it again.

After that, it gets looked over on grammarly because I suck with grammar. Finally, it gets read over one more time and briskly editing any last things before it gets copied and pasted into Tumblr! I title it, find a gif, add some final details like the another's note, and then finally posted.

Now wait, you can make that easier!

I know, I really do. I just like the way I write. It's convenient for how my life works. Now I'm not saying anyone else should write this way or not write this way. You do what works best for you! I also like how I have multiple drafts in different places because I've almost lost or deleted things a few times.

So, wait, you're not posting multiple times a day?

Nope, sorry to anyone who loved the near constant flow of material to read. I have spent every free moment writing, and at first, I thought I had plenty of little things in my phone notepad to post. I was kinda wrong. I do, but not if I still want to create and write more. I currently have a ton of things thar are finished or almost finished. That just needs to be edited.

Editing is actually, like I said, a little harder because I do it at my desktop, meaning I have to be at my desktop to do it. This means I have to stop doing farm chores to do it, which is usually the end of the day.

So you post once a day? When?

Usually, once a day, if more than that means I wasn't as busy and had time to post, edit, or write. I usually post at different times, mainly later in the evening (EST).

I will be doing more votes to see what you want to see next! I love to make sure anything I post is what you guys want to see more of! I will say I have plans to post a few bonus Laswell and Farah things that will all be x!fem reader because I have been posting a lot of Valeria. Who I love to write for don't get me wrong, but I wanna make sure I have plenty of posts for all three of them.

I currently like to make sure I have the next part or the next few parts written or planned out so that if I can't write or fall behind, you guys still have the next part no matter what!

Thank you for every like, repost, comment, everything! It means a lot to me, and it honestly motivates me to write. I promise I see you all liking and commenting, and I deeply appreciate it!

Now, let's get back to your regularly scheduled program!

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[lesbianjunimo]

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?) 

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~” 

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams. 

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that. 

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way. 

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism. 

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?” 

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on. 

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be  careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process. 

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care. 

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet. 

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention. 

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram. 

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly. 

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

[obeiii-mee]

MC had a bad day or they’re dealing with a bad loss from a loved one. So they decide to seek comfort from the Brothers! But they don’t do it in a normal way, they just barge in the room where the brothers are all relaxing or hanging out at before MC just busts in getting their attention and they go “I need a hug 🥺”. Let’s see the some fluffy hc’s of the brothers comforting MC 🥰

And how could they not want to hug their cute human that is literally 3 seconds away from breaking down into tears?

The Brothers Comforting MC After A Bad Day:

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You’re right, they wouldn’t be able to resist, they love their human too much 😌

*soBS* I want to hug one of them so bad rn

Thank you for the request, I love writing fluffy HCs, it’s my weak spot and it gives me serotonin. I hope you have a nice day/night!! Uh, it’s sort of implied that MC is slightly shorter than them so sorry if that’s a problem-

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Notes: Fluff, mentions of loss and dead family members/friends, mostly comfort though, short HCs

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beezlebub and Belphegor.

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Lucifer:

-He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t really need to because him just being there, arms wrapped around you and hands lightly running up and down your back, is worth more words than any sort of verbal consolation he could’ve given you and because of this, you feel at ease

-His touch is firm but gentle and you relax almost immediately, burying your head against his chest and feeling him press a kiss on top of your hairline, tightening your hold on him

-He already told his brothers to back off because the last thing he wanted was for you you to get overwhelmed by their insensitivity so you two were left in the living room by yourselves

-In a bit of an awkward position though, because you were both standing and after a while, it was clear a hug wasn’t going to be enough

-That’s his excuse as to why he picked you up bridal style five minutes later and carried you all the way to his bedroom, a place he knows his siblings won’t ever trespass without his permission and somewhere he can shield you from any prying eyes while you’re in this vulnerable state

-At this point, he was basically cradling you like a baby, having you sit on his lap and waiting for you to tire yourself out until you couldn’t cry anymore and watching you slip into that hiccuping stage you get after a breakdown

-Lucifer is obviously going to ask what happened, but whether you answer him or not is up to you because he’s not one to push matters if he sees you’re uncomfortable talking about it

-However, he might insist if he concludes that it’s affecting you and your well being and that’s how you know usually know he’s worried

-His voice is soft though and just listening to it makes you want to tell him everything, whether it’d be something as annoying as a small inconvenience you stumbled across that day or the death of a relative, you feel welcomed enough to spill everything

-Even if you decide not to, he’ll stay with you until you feel better, until you’re no longer crying or shaking or anything of the sort. He speaks occasionally, almost soothingly about how important you are to him and how capable you are of overcoming anything in your way. For the most part, however, he remains quiet and allows you to mull over your thoughts, willing to forget about his paperwork just to let you cling to him for a few hours

-Maybe later, when you’re no longer as distressed, he could get the full story out of you and help you overcome whatever problem you’re having trouble facing but for now, he understands all you need is for him to be there

“MC?” He calls your name out because he was thinking that maybe you had fallen asleep but he realised that was not the case when you looked up at him, streaks of tears still sliding down your cheeks. When you don’t respond, he sighs almost contently “A bit longer?” You don’t answer again but this time, he could feel you nod against him and he smiles despite himself as he leaned his head against yours “All right then, just a bit longer.”

Mammon:

-Truth be told, he’s never been the best at comforting someone and normally, he’s kind of awkward when he wants to show his support because it feels so out of his character

-But it’s not like he was going to refuse you anyway. Not when you specifically came to him and asked him for help and not when you looked like you were on the verge of crying. He’d be a monster to deny you >:(

-It upsets him too, you know. He’s meant to be your protector, guardian even, so the fact that he couldn’t keep you from getting hurt makes him feel like he failed at keeping his human safe. Actually, it takes a lot of convincing on your part just to tell him that you’re not actually physically hurt. Just a shitty day…

-Mammon, despite the walls he puts up ever now and then, is someone that genuinely cares for you. And he’s also the type that does almost everything in excess, especially when it comes to you or spending money. That’s just his personality; he’s loud and boisterous and even though he wants to deny this, completely transparent with his emotions

-You ask for a hug? He gives you plenty of hugs! He lets you lay on top of him while cuddling so he can hold you!!! He brings you snacks and drinks!!! Shit, he basically cradles you the whole night!!! And he’s blushing and acting annoyed the entire time, refusing to accept how much he’s actually enjoying this

-The point is, he tends to coddle you whenever you have a bad day or if you’re really affected by the loss of a dead loved one. This is probably because he, in turn, likes to be babied and cared for when he’s feeling down and he subconsciously does that to you because it’s the only means of comfort he knows how to execute well

-A hug would’ve sufficed, but you’re his human and let him be damned if he’s not gonna give you the world on a silver platter if you keep looking at him with those sad eyes of yours

-By now, if you need anything, you just need to ask because even with a bit of grumbling, he’ll get it for you. More snacks? Say less. Wanna watch TV with him for a while? Immediately reaches for the remote? You just want to cuddle? His body is naturally warm for a reason bby, dig in. You want his heart? Give him a moment to surgically get it out of his chest-

-No matter what, he’s so glad that you trust him enough to talk to him about this sort of stuff and that he’s the first person you think of when you need consolation

-It makes sense after all, right? He’s your first pact so your direct happiness is his responsibility while you’re in DevilDom! It’s his job to make sure you function again by tomorrow morning and that you’re no longer troubled by anything

“Hey! What’s with all the crying huh?” He cups your face in his hands and softly squishes the flesh between his fingers. His thumbs brush over the tears in your eyes and he let’s out a small ‘tsk’ as your foreheads touch and his hands drip to your shoulders to keep you steady “The Great Mammon is hugging ya right now, ya know? There’s no reason for you to be upset, not when I’ve got ya in my arms like this, OK? So you can stop with yer water works now.” As noisy as his voice is, there’s a gentle note behind it when he speaks and embraces you, his cologne spreading everywhere “I love you, ya big idiot. So please, stop cryin’ and lemme hold ya already! Yer making me worried, ya stupid human.”

Levi:

-You stopping by his room is not unusual. In fact, you do it every day and it’s just part of the routine you have with him. However, he’s wasn’t exactly expecting you to stand there, all shaken up and ask him for a hug!!!

-And he doesn’t process this request for a second but then he freaks out so badly-

-Yells incomprehensibly about how you’re ‘pulling your normie tricks on him again’ and how he’s ‘not going to be fooled by them anymore.’

-You raise your head to meet his eyes while he’s still rambling on though and he sees your teary expression and now he feels guilty because you look really upset. Levi’s kinda scared he made it worse-

-He’s the type to usher you in his room and lock the door as usual but instead of doing what the two of you always do, you literally stay attached to him because you need comfort damn it!

-Levi….is sort of clueless about these emotional outbursts since he himself doesn’t deal with them very well. However, he’s watched enough animes revolving around romance to conclude on the best course of action so-do not fear! (Spoiler, he still doesn’t know what he’s doing)

-He’s really stuck and can either stay as quiet as a nun or start babbling in a language you probably wouldn’t even understand because he’s so nervous

-Or actually, he might start crying with you if I’m being fair; he’s very in sync with his Henry and your emotions

-Once he calms down, he’s actually not all that bad at comforting. Levi is a bit stand offish with his hugs at first but he relaxes into them and by now, you’re both standing by the side of his bed, with you leaning onto him and him holding your hand. He then intertwines your fingers together but subconsciously because he wouldn’t have the gall otherwise

-Later, he tells you to help yourself with the snacks he has hidden in his room. I guarantee you he has a whole ass mini refrigerator hidden somewhere for his all night gaming session, in case he needs any boosts. No one knows how Beel hasn’t found the stash yet and there’s no need to tell him

-Then you watch re runs of old shows together and make fun of the shitty editing and dialogue. He’s still holding your hand though and he’s really flustered and wondering if it’s too sweaty for you but don’t mention it because he’ll get even more embarrassed

-He glances over to you, every once in a while, whilst you’re cuddled up against his arm, eyes glued on the TV, to make sure you’re OK. You almost gave him a seizure or at least that’s how he felt-so he made it his mission to make you feel better by any means necessary. Fuck today’s raids, his team can get them done without him!!

“I-I don’t know why you would want me of all people to hug you but…” he trailed off in a whisper, having to lean down so you could wrap your arms against his neck and bury your head in his shoulder. He pulled you in closer, a streak of protectiveness coursing through him as he shut the door to his room with his foot “Lord of the Shadows would never leave Henry all on his own, so I’m not going to do that either. This is an important character development arc and-just, please don’t cry. I’ll give you more hugs, OK? Seeing you like this is not good for my heart-“ stopped mid sentence after realising what he just said and now he’s the one burying his head in your shoulder, flushed beyond hell “Forget I just said that! Holy Lord Diavolo this is embarrassing, why am I like this????”

Satan:

-It troubles him greatly to see you like this and he can sort of feel the world shift out of place, seeing you with tears running down your face and hands balled into fists out of frustration almost immediately makes him fly into a fit of rage because who would dare to hurt you-

-Oh, a hug? If that’s all you need, he’s more than happy to oblige but if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he wonders if just a small embrace from him would be enough

-Satan’s hugs are very intimate and even passionate at times. He has one hand on the back of your head and the other supporting your lower back while you bawl your eyes out into his shoulder and getting his uniform wet

-You can’t really seem to focus on what he’s trying to tell you because he’s so warm and welcoming and even though he’s someone as renowned as the Avatar of Wrath, he’s shockingly patient with you as you let out the overwhelming emotions that have been consuming you all day

-It’s hard to not relax when you’re in Satan’s presence because he’s calm and he smells like musty, old books and mahogany wood and cats, meaning he was most likely cuddling strays he found on the street the entire day. The first visual that comes to mind is fire crackling behind a grate in a chimney and someone reading a book while swinging back and forth on an old, rickety chair when you’re around him

-He will wait until you’re no longer crying and then, before you know it, you find yourself in the library with him, drinking tea and being handed a plate of biscuits he took from the kitchen to help you regain your strength after all that crying. You’re still feeling pretty miserable about the day you’ve had but you quickly lose yourself in a conversation with him over a cup of tea

-Sometimes, you two talk for hours on end about nothing important just to hear each other’s voices and finally have some quality time spent together. Even though he wishes the circumstances were better, he’s glad to have been able to snatch you away from his brothers for a while and he’s even happier you chose him to confide in

-Satan practically doesn’t even mention your outburst and keeps the small talk minimal but he wants you to know that if you do wish to tell him about it, he’s more than happy to listen and he’s not so bad at giving advice either

-The topic of the discussion you were having with him changed abruptly by the end of the night and now you’re reading together from this book he started a while ago, both of you covered with a blanket, your head on his chest and his leaning on yours. He’s holding the book with both of his hands, but still managed to get his left wrapped around you. And because of this feeling of safety and warmth, you don’t feel desperate anymore. Tomorrow, you’ll be able to sort out your feelings but now, you’re content to just listening to Satan read, in his clear, soft voice

“Ah MC, could you turn the page for me?” You do as he asked to and you could feel him smiling as he kissed your hairline, sighing before going back to the book and the story within “Thank you. You truly are amazing, did you know that? I’ve never met someone as caring and as kind as you. Well, I suppose Beel could compete for the title but unlike him, you don’t really leave us in debt whenever we visit the grocery store.” Hearing you laugh makes him smile even more and he lets you hold the other side of the book while he plays with your hair and now you join in reading with him, out loud and trying to act out voices for the characters. As everything unfolds, Satan feels the world click right back into place.

Asmo:

-It’s a known fact by now that Asmo is willing to give you any sort of affection at any point in time, whether it’d be a hug, a kiss, holding your hand-you name it! I mean, whenever he’s feeling down, you being there to encourage him helps a lot so it’s only natural it works the other way around too!

-If he notices that you’re genuinely upset by something, then he would have no problem whatsoever with lavishing you in attention and really, a hug or two from him is the bare minimum in situations like this

-In any case, he always enjoys fussing over you and you having a bad day is the perfect excuse for him to do so! After all, he can’t disappoint you since you came to him with your troubles and he will do anything in his power to make you feel better. Actually, if he could, he would keep hugging you forever but as miraculous as his charm can be, it’s not effective against someone with this low of a morale

-His first suggestion is to take a bath! It’s his way of taking care of you; you’re tired after such a long day and he feels like you’re neglecting yourself a little because of it. So you relax in his bathtub with him for a while, him actively trying to get your mind off any bad, lingering thoughts while you splash around in the bubbles

-And obviously after that, you need to have your mandatory spa sessions with him since you need to unwind and what’s a better way to do that than to let him paint your nails and apply lotion to your skin? Besides, it creates a great opportunity for you to take things off your chest

-He’s in need to hear gossip constantly so if you don’t feel like talking, he’s gonna be a bit bummed out but he still respects your wishes enough to not push you. If your problem is as sensitive as the death of a family member, you’re not obligated to talk to him about it and he will understand, since people grieve in different ways. He too shut down after the death of Lilith for a while after all

-A bad day is nothing Asmo can’t handle. He’s had plenty of those before, mostly because of Mammon and his thievery, they’re usually common factors. It’s only natural you experience those yourself and he’s more than willing to be your support system if you need one. He wants you to know that you can go to him if you need advice or help with anything, or even if you just need to someone to hear you out

-To give a more detailed explanation of his hugs, they are usually really light and you never feel suffocated when you’re in his arms. He never squeezes you too tight and he always smells amazing, so you feel inclined to stay near him for as long as possible. Despite his overtly loud nature, he gets incredibly soft spoken with you and he traces patterns on your back and arms as you stand there together

-It’s important to mention, he never pulls away from you first. He lets you decide when you’ve had enough and when you’re ready to move on or if you require some other means of comfort

-And even if you’re no longer disgruntled, he’s still going to pamper you as much as possible the next day with either a shopping spree or another few spa sessions, this time done at a professional institution rather than the privacy of his bedroom

-Asmo is in touch with your emotions and it’s kinda scary sometimes because of how well he can read you, since he almost always knows what you need

“Oh darling, how could I refuse a hug from you?” You can feel his arms embrace you, even with your eyes closed and for some reason, this makes you cry even harder, sobbing as he tries to comfort you. You’re aware he let go of you at some point and returned with a tissue to dab away at your tears, gently to not hurt your eyes and now he’s hugging you again, a wry smile on his face “You don’t have to worry about a thing, MC. Everything will get sorted out, I promise. In the meantime, come to me if anything troubles you again, OK? No more crying, darling-it’s bad for your eyes.”

Beel:

-The type to immediately lean in for a hug without even questioning why. As soon as you ask him, you barely have time to finish the question and you already find yourself in his arms. The only exception would be when he’s eating or maybe in the middle of a work out but the point is he doesn’t hesitate much when it comes to you. And I mean, he loves hugs just as much as his siblings do

-Beel is not the most observant and he may not realise you’re in a bad mood unless you tell him outright. It’s not even that he’s emotionally distant, it’s just that if you tell him that you’re fine, then he’s gonna take your word for it and believe you since he’s pretty straightforward with his feelings as well. However, as dense as he may be on occasion, even he’s bound to notice that you’re not being your usual self and this is especially true if you start crying out of nowhere while he’s nearby. Probably assumes the worst and is under the impression that he did something to upset you because shifting the blame onto himself whenever others suffer is his coping mechanism and we’ve seen him to do it before

-If you’ve just had a bad day, he understands that things could’ve been very overwhelming for you and he wishes he had known sooner so he could’ve helped back then, instead of letting it come to this. But he doesn’t hesitate all that much since he looks like he’s built for giving hugs on a daily basis. I’m not even sure this would classify as a hug since you’re not touching the floor. Rather, you are attached to him like a koala and he’s carrying you around as if you were a baby strapped to his chest. And he genuinely doesn’t mind. He’s been doing it with Belphie for centuries now

-Please, after a while he gets seriously concerned because are humans supposed to cry this much? What if you dehydrate or something? So he makes you stay in bed and just gives you plenty of water. You look so pale and sad, he shares his food with you too because his heart is aching just looking at you like this. He feels like besides being there, he can’t provide you with much help and he’s starting to think he’s hopeless at comforting

-If a family member died then…Beel is one of the best people you could’ve gone to. Honestly, having dealt with his sister’s situation, he knows how horrible it is to lose somebody you love dearly (I mean, all the brothers do but I’m making a point saying Beel, Belphie and Lucifer were especially affected). Now he’s sad himself since he’s aware that you’re going through something similar and his twin might walk in on the two of you being emotional on the floor

-For the most part, Beel makes sure you keep yourself healthy even when you’re tired and depressed. Continues to bring you food, even if he eats half of it on his way to your room, and just keeps you company in general in case you get lonely. Seeing you upset makes him even more considerate of your feelings and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t need to stay with you all night. He thinks he does because you’ve always offered to stay with him whenever he’s had nightmares before so how he’s gotta return the favour

-Beel gives these bear hugs all the time, since he’s so big and his hand basically covers your entire back. So, more often than not, you end up cuddling while standing because he’s a lot taller than you, with him being a demon and all. Despite that, you feel so unbelievably complete when he holds you like this. It’s hard not to feel protected since his whole body is practically concealing yours so easily all the time and you feel sheltered from the world and it’s….nice

-And Beel enjoys hugging you too, because he knows that as long as he’s nearby, you’ll be safe and that’s really all he needs. He wants to be there for you the same way you were there for him when he needed it most and comforting you when you’re having a shitty day is like his full time job

-You could come to Beel with any problem and he would never judge you, no matter what. He’s just really unproblematic and he just wants you to go back to your normal self because it hurts him to see you cry your eyes out. Now, not only are hugs mandatory but holding your hand is too. It’s like hugging…but your hands are doing the hugging

-Definitely even goes to Belphie after a while if he really doesn’t know what to do and that’s how you know he’s desperate to do something. Since the Seventh Born isn’t exactly someone that yields great advice, more so when it comes to other…people….and his twin knows this-

-Beel’s best strategy at the moment is to just maintain some kind of physical contact because he discovered that makes you feel better and it calms you down more than him trying to verbally console you. He even invited you to sleep in his room if you’re comfortable doing so just so you’re not alone. After that one incident, he’s trying to coax you to tell him whenever something is wrong so he can jump in and help, because that’s all he really wants to do ahakenksms

“MC? Did something happen?” He’s honestly taken aback by how shaky you are and how you’re hands are trembling as they’re reaching to connect with his. Without much of a warning, he feels a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and now he discovers that he doesn’t like seeing you with tears trailing down your face. And he feels worse the longer you wail in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do. So, he wraps his arms around you so tight you think you might explode, strangely comforted by the feeling as he speaks again “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you. What can I do to help, MC? We can just stay like this for a while if you want” And when he sees you nod, he proceeds to not move an inch almost the entire night. Obviously, hunger overtook him eventually but he shared his stolen goods with you so can you really complain? Doubtful, not when he hasn’t let go of your hand the whole time.

Belphie:

- Hugging him is a gamble. Realistically speaking, you’re not going to catch him standing upright long enough for you to give him a hug. He’s laying on the floor somewhere, asleep so you shouldn’t expect much from him to begin with. Even if you were to get lucky and stumble upon him while he’s wide awake, he might slump over and succumb to sleep the moment you embrace him because you’re so warm

-Cuddling is a different story altogether. He’d rather shoot himself in the foot than not have you cuddle with him so if you need to be babied for once, he’s a pretty good option to consider

-As usual, he’s in the attic and you go to him because it’s really late and you didn’t want to wake up any of the other brothers. Actually, Belphie is normally awake by dusk so to see him sleep like a log past midnight was quite surprising. You didn’t exactly want to interrupt but if you stayed alone for any longer, you would’ve gone insane. So you shook him awake. And he was understandably confused and probably forgot what planet he was on for a minute when you did so

-Technically, he was half awake and from his point of view, everything must’ve been pretty blurry. He did see you; the problem was that because he was still feeling very sleepy, he was basically in a daze and could only squint at you to try and figure out if you were really there or if he was hallucinating. His suspicion was confirmed soon enough because he reached out after a few seconds and poked your cheek just to check. His face the entire time and the action itself was so amusing that, despite tittering on the edge of a breakdown, you burst out laughing

-Once he came to the conclusion that you were, in fact, real and he wasn’t dreaming, he sighed and opened his arms out for you; a direct invitation to cuddle with him. By now, he likely didn’t even noticed you looked sad because, as I said, he was all over the place but this little ritual you two have was common enough that it got engraved in his memory. Now he does it out of impulse whenever you’re around and he wants attention

-So you basically tackled him and threw yourself on top of him so hard, both of you toppled over on the bed and now you were used as a blanket, with his arms wrapped securely around you; preventing you from getting up. Not that you were planning on doing that anytime soon but moving on-

-You thought he had fallen back asleep, because he went really quiet and he stopped squirming to get comfortable. To be exact, the whole room was rather still and the only thing you could really hear was Belphie’s soft breathing and the rustle of the bedsheets every once in a while. And since it was extremely dark as well, you couldn’t see a thing either so it felt like the best place to let go of your stress

-It’s not like you were making much noise but as I said, the seventh born wasn’t sleeping just yet. And he wouldn’t be able to because it was obvious to him now that something was wrong. He believed that he was bearing witness to something that should’ve been a lot more private than this so he didn’t say anything. You should have your moment, let you have a chance to recollect your thoughts and the next day, he might ask you

-It was too much to handle. It’s not like he was gonna get any sleep unless he knew your problem was solved otherwise he might get nightmares all night. Besides, if you’re crying this much, then something terrible must’ve happened. You realised he was awake when he gave your entire body a small squeeze, as if to reassure you and you froze because did you just wake him up???? Or worse, did he hear all that sobbing you were doing????

-Hugging him is similar to hugging a pillow. He’s soft and squishy and warm and it’s impossible to resist him when rest at a time like this is so tempting. His fingers running over your pact mark once or twice, as if to remind you that he’s right there and low whispers describing the best dream he ever had about you, hoping to distract you for long enough to help you fall asleep

-To him, it doesn’t make a difference if a family member died or if you’re just having a bad day. All he knows is that you’re having a lot of emotional problems because of either one and as a result, you need a shoulder to lean on. He’s glad that you trust him enough to let him assist and if it was up to him, he would keep cuddling you forever. You’ve already suffered enough so let him take care of you this time around, OK?

“Dumbass, why are you crying?” The gentleness of his words was a clear contrast to that quick insult he shoved at the beginning of his statement, though you couldn’t hear any malice behind it and the fact that he really cared about what happened to cause you to struggle with your emotions so badly, would’ve made you wail even harder. However, he managed to silence you pretty well because he kept speaking and you wanted to listen; you wanted to hear what he had to say so you reduced your sobs and you sat quietly enough to do just that. Belphie flipped you over, now with him on top and you underneath and he laid there, cheek sloshed against yours as he sleepily mumbled out more praise for you, “MC, are you tired? You should go to bed, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, you can tell me what the problem is and I’ll help. I promise-I’ll even get up early for you. Just…please calm down. I don’t want to see you crying yourself to sleep ever again. I’ll stay here the entire time, alright? And I’ll make sure you have nice dreams tonight MC…just let me hold you…”

[beels-burger-babe]

All is Fair in Dice and War

***Soooo, @bagelsinatoaster I love this request. However, you didn't specify which board game and as I am a huge nerd I decided to take some creative liberties and combine this with another idea I've been meaning to write which is: MC introducing the demon bros to Dungeons and Dragons. I certainly had fun with this and I hope you like it!*** Summary: Leviathan's world is flipped upside down when MC tells him there is a game that basically allows him to be the Lord of Shadows in real life!! He demands that his brothers join him as MC introduces them all to the chaotic shit show that is Dungeons & Dragons. For once, it was a peaceful day in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer was lounging in the living room with a cursed record playing softly in the background. For once, Satan had willingly joined him and was sitting by the fireplace, thumbing through a book on the human world. Belphie had been passed out on the couch when he arrived and was still laying there with an impressive puddle of drool collecting near his mouth. Even Asmodeus and Beel had joined in, with Asmodeus gently humming to himself as he painted his nails and Beelzebub happily munching on a snack as he enjoyed the sight of his family getting along. Yes. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, and Lucifer didn't even have any traces of his regular migraine. But of course, nothing good lasts forever. Everyone jumped as the door slammed open and a wide-eyed Leviathan dragged you into the room. The two you very closely followed by Mammon loudly complaining. "Oi! You're gonna hurt them! Cut it out, Levi!" Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, momentarily mourning the peace that he had just barely begun to enjoy, and closed his book. "Leviathan, let MC go. What are you freaking out about this time?" Lucifer regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. Levi looked at it with the expression he only ever got when his limited edition Ruri-Chan merch arrived; his eyes were wide and glittering with excitement while his face bore a grin so large that Lucifer was surprised it didn't rip his skin. The third-born was practically vibrating as he let go of your wrist and pushed you forward. "Tell them! Tell them about the game!"

You laughed at Levi's excitement and casually rubbed your wrist. "I was just telling Leviathan about a game that we play in the human world called Dungeons and Dragons-" "You get to make a fantasy world that everyone plays in, and everyone makes characters. You can be a wizard and cast spells against a huge monster! Or a war hero fighter that has been betrayed by his brother! Or a noble knight who is looking for his lost kingdom! And the best part is that it's real!" Levi interrupted, nearly jumping in place as stars danced in his eyes. You put your hands out towards him to try and calm him a bit. "Well, not entirely real. It is played in person, but it's a role play tabletop game, meaning it mostly relies on the players' imagination. That is unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on 3D maps and figurines of your characters." Levi's eyes grew even wider, if possible, as he started shaking his hands up and down. "I CAN HAVE A FIGURINE OF A CHARACTER THAT I MADE?! GAAAAAAAAAHH!" A pillow flew across the room and hit Levi square in the face as a now awake Belphegor glared at him. "Will. You. Shut. Up?" the Avatar of Sloth hissed as a dark dangerous aura grew around him. Beel gently patted his twin's head in hopes of calming him. Leviathan pouted as he noticed no one else seemed to be getting excited about it. "C-Come on guys! This isn't even a video game! It's a thing that we can all do together and personalize it to be something that everyone will like. It'll be fun! Right MC?" You nodded as you gently tossed Belphie's pillow back over to him. "Yeah. I love D&D. I played it all the time in the human world. There's action, suspense, and even romance if you really wanted it," a couple of the brothers perked up at that. "I could put together a one-shot for you guys to try it out if you'd like? I'll help you make your characters, and we can all get together for an evening and play it sometime in a couple weeks." The room went quiet as everyone thought it over. Most of them had no interest in the game itself, but if it was organized by you... "I'm in," Beel decided with a nod. "I think it will be fun. All of us trying something new; it could be neat." Satan casually flipped a page in his book, "The creative aspect of it is definitely appealing. We'd be the masters of our own fate, and that most certainly piques my interest." Asmodeus smirked as he put the cap on his nail polish. "And you said it could be whatever we want? My, one might say that this game could help our wildest fantasies come true~" he made sure to wink at you as he giggled. Belphie, who had only just got back his pillow, scrunched up his face in disgust and launched it at Asmo. "Don't make this weird Asmo," he looked over at you and shrugged, "So long as you do all the work in putting together the character thing, sure. Why not?" Mammon looked over at you from the corner of his eye. "Ya mean to tell me, that you can make it so I'm some awesome, rich, and powerful prince?" Asmo scoffed as he pushed the pillow off his lap. "Please Mammon, even the world of make-believe has its limitations." Mammon blushed as he growled at his brother. You just chuckled and teasingly elbowed his side. "Don't listen to him, Mammon. There is a set amount of how much money you start out with depending on your class and background, but I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy." The second-born blushed even more as he grumbled quietly under his breath. Lucifer tilted his head in thought. "I suppose that if everyone else is playing, naturally I must as well," he stood and began to make his way to his office. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with MC." The next two weeks were spent planning and carefully figuring out the details of the one-shot and the characters that everyone was going to play. Levi was, of course, the first one who came to you to build his character. The two of you spent hours going through the Player's Handbook and sourcebooks to find the perfect build to recreate the Lord of Shadows. In the end, you put

together a human fighter that you gave a couple magic items to make Levi's vision really come to life. It seemed basic, but for the Lord of Shadows, it was perfect. The moment the two of you finished, Levi dove to his computer and ordered a custom-made mini that looked exactly like his character. Satan was genuinely interested in the game, especially after he learned about all the lore and rules behind the different classes and races. You had just been chilling in your room one day when the door burst open. Satan stood there with wide eyes holding a copy of Volo's Guide to Monsters. "MC, why didn't you tell me there are cat people?!" You chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. "They're called tabaxi, but yeah, they're basically cat people. Would you like to play as one?" He scoffed and snapped the book shut. "Is that even a question? Of course, I'm playing as one." After some discussion and bouncing back and forth between classes a couple of times, Satan settled on a tabaxi druid; that way he not only looked like a cat, but he could speak to them as well. After a few days of you spending time with his brothers focusing on getting their characters ready, Mammon came to you wanting the coolest, most epic character ever. At first, it was clear that he wasn't fully invested in the process, but as he saw the customizable options and all the cool stuff that his character could have, you got his attention. You ended up designing a golden teifling rogue (you tried to tell Mammon that teifling usually wasn't yellow, but he gave you such a sad look that you couldn't say no) that was decked out with piercings and gems all over its horns and tail. He tried to act like he wasn't that excited about it, but one day during class you caught him doodling what looked like a stick figure version of the character on his sheet with a big smile on his face. Asmodeus came in shortly after Mammon finished,

insisting on having the most charming and beautiful character there was. You tapped your chin at the request. "I mean, stereotypically bards are extremely charming and...well seductive...almost too seductive. But that's only thei-" Asmo had hearts in his eyes before you could even finish. "That's what I want to be!" You sighed and made a mental note not to include any dragons in the session as you marked Asmo down to be an elven bard and helped him create his character sheet. You hadn't heard anything from Lucifer for nearly that entire first week, until one day as you were lounging in the living room, he walked in holding a stack of resource books. "Ah, MC. I've been looking for you. I wanted to inform you that I will be playing a half-elf multiclassing as a paladin and hex-blade warlock." You blinked at him as he put all the books down in front of you. "O-Oh. Would you like help putting together your character sheet?" He just grinned and began to make his way out of the room once more. "I've already done it. I must admit that this was quite a bit more interesting than I thought it would be," and with that he was gone, leaving you to try and figure out what had just happened. With only a few days left until the one-shot, you had to go find the twins and get them to make their characters. Beel apologized like crazy for you having to track him in down in order to get his character made. The poor guy was in the middle of peak Fangol season and had completely forgotten. Once the two of you sat down in the kitchen with an empty character sheet in one hand and snacks in the other, Beel gave you his full attention. He put a lot of thought in his character and wanted to make it really good since he appreciated that you were doing something that they could all do as a family. He bashfully decided to play a halfling. Not only did the little creatures share his love for food, but he thought it would be neat to try being small for once. His class was also a surprise. After carefully flipping through all of the class options, he had eventually settled on a cleric. "They're the healers, right? This way I can help the others if someone gets hurt." You gave him a huge hug then and there. Belphegore, on the other hand, was not so easy to work with. "Belphie, come on. Just flip through the book and choose something!" He groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side to glare at you. "I told you I would play if you did all the work for me. Me flipping through a book is work. It's not happening." After an entire hour of trying to get him to cooperate, you gave up. In retaliation you made his character a goblin barbarian, just to drive in the fact of how much of a brat he was acting like.

Finally, the day came for you all to play the one-shot, and much like you expected, it was complete and utter chaos. You had tried to maintain some structure and keep everyone on track, but it was hopeless. Levi and Satan were taking the game seriously and, Diavolo bless them, were the only reason their party was making any progress. Mammon was trying to pick-pocket every non-player character that they met while Asmo distracted them by flirting. This worked great for them until Mammon got caught and would've died from the resulting injuries if it wasn't for Beel. Speaking of Beel, the poor fella was trying his best to do well in the game but kept getting confused by all the rules and different stats and modifiers. Belphegor spent most of his time, trying to explain it to his twin, but in the end, Beel accidentally ate his dice and Belphie passed out on his shoulder. And then there was Lucifer. He had been mostly quiet the entire game. Surprisingly, he let Levi and Satan take the charge in any investigations and puzzle-based interactions, but he did so with a smirk. You had a funny feeling in your stomach that he was up to something, and you were right. It was the final boss. Satan and Levi were on the edge of their seats, having worked so hard to get the party to this point. You smiled, knowing that one of the best parts of D&D was finally taking down the big bad. In this case, you had prepared a beholder for them to fight. It would be no easy task. The fight should have required them to work together in an epic battle of wits, magic and melee attacks. Only, when everyone rolled initiative, Lucifer went first. The eldest smiled as his eyes sparked menacingly. "For my bonus action, I'd like to use my hex blade's curse on it, which allows me to add my plus four proficiency bonus to all damage, and makes any rolls of nineteen or twenty critical hits. I will then use my long sword with divine smite at third level to attack him and attack him again using my extra attack," barely giving you time to process what he said, Lucifer rolled his dice twice. "And that would be a nineteen and a natural twenty, meaning they're both criticals due to the curse. That should hit, yes?" "Wha-" You could only watch as Lucifer, now with twice the amount of damage due to his critical rolls pulled out a disgusting number of dice and rolled them all. And of course, with his luck, they all rolled high. "So that's 90 points of damage plus the extra damage from the curse and the bonus from my duelist ability per attack, brings this 102 points," he smugly perched his chin on top of his hands as the table gaped at him. You gulped and looked down at the beholder's character sheet, "Y-You just took o-over half of his hit points in one round..." His grin widened at the information, "What, like it's hard?" You never got the chance to finish the game, as Satan burst into his demon form and pounced on Lucifer, the eldest laughing like a mad man, while Levi tore up his character sheet in a fit of jealous rage. Levi never asked to play with everyone again after that. ***This was just so self-indulgent and I just- I loved it. It combined two of my favourite things and I have never been happier. This was more crack than fluff, but either way, it was fun and I hope you nerds out there enjoyed it 🥰 Thanks again for the request @bagelsinatoaster!*** Taglist: @mimik248 @roseytoesy @ester-is-here

[work-your-loki]

i'm once again thinking of the narrative choice the show made to not allow loki and sylvie to realize their feelings organically and independently, but rather have them literally be planted in their heads by a (biased) outsider.

i'm once again thinking that in the same scene this theory was introduced, it was called sick and twisted.

i'm thinking about the very specific acting choices in that scene.

about how sophia di martino doesn't once call it love in the interview, but "those feelings" and "that way".

about the choice not to show us the discussion in the car and to allow us to see or hear sylvie's reaction. about leaving it up to interpretation what loki was going to say before he got pruned.

about how if loki is on a hero's journey and is meant to overcome his flaws, and we assume he's a narcissist (still not sold on this), falling in love with another version of himself is not overcoming, it's just indulging.

about how quick showrunners were to confirm that it's a romance, which feels so odd, since they're usually a lot more coy and teasing about such things.

I'm thinking about michael waldron saying he pitched the show as a love story, but kate herron saying they decided to hone in on the loki/sylvie connection later in the filming process. and about how she was careful to say "not necessarily romantic".

about how something just feels different about the show. maybe it's the fact that so many women are involved behind the scenes? the complete absence of toxic masculinity that permeates so many other mcu projects? can't quite put my finger on it, but i'm feeling it all the same.

i'm thinking about that article that first broke the news that the show would confirm loki's bisexuality (true) and that he would have one female (true) and one male love interest (false/still pending?) was that idea scraped?

i'm thinking about the tired and overused cliche of the central trio consisting of one male hero, his emotional support male sidekick, and the spiffy, tomboyish female love interest (sylvie is obviously, and thankfully, far more complex than that). I'm thinking about how I was writing a story, I would love to subvert that, and how much fun it would be to first tell the story the regular, "normal" way, the way people are expecting it to play out.

about how this a show about loki, the ultimate trickster, but we haven't had a proper trick or twist yet. but if we did, and you went back and watched the entire series with fresh eyes, the narrative would still hold and you could say "ah, yes, i see where they were going with this."

about that line from frigga "always so perceptive about everyone but yourself" being repeated in the first episode and mobius saying "you do know yourself" and loki still getting it wrong.

about the strong visual choice to keep loki in the TVA outfit, which could have many thematic reasons, but at the same time always serves as a constant visual connection, always keeps them matching. especially in the last episode with everyone wearing outlandish, fantasy outfits.

i'm thinking about how we all immediately labeled it the "supermarket divorce", because it just felt like that. if you were writing this as a love triangle, would you have filmed that scene any other way? or would you have kept it exactly as it was?

about how the fandom is picking up vibes via fanart and memes that are immediately echoed in the next episodes. about all the fanfiction tropes we are so used to see confined in our corner of the internet, but we are so readily identifying on the show.

and ultimately i'm thinking that this post is probably going to age like milk by wednesday, but we only have a one day left where all timelines can still exist, before canon prunes all our theories and headcanons and hopes, so i want to go out full on clowning and not dreading.

EDIT: because this post gained more traction than i thought it would, I'm editing to say that you should also read this and this for a fuller picture and to make sure no one gets their feelings hurt by fictional bastards and money-grabbing capitalists.

[mcyt-imagines]

hi! love your writing! could you possibly do dating headcannons for technoblade?! possibly including some kissing/cuddling :)

I’m so sorry this took so long!! I’m finally on break so I’ll be posting a little more frequently for now! Also I got very carried away with this one,,,, um,,, it’s almost 4,000 words long,,, can you tell Techno is my comfort streamer?? And gender-neutral pronouns as usual! (Edit: This is C!Techno btw, didn’t think I needed to point that out seeing as we all know the actual streamer is not a bloodthirsty half-piglin man but I just got an angry anon in my ask box, so I’m specifying.))

Dating C!Technoblade HCs

Techno being half piglin shares their obsession with gold, and in turn, likes to gift you gold as often as he can. Usually, in the form of jewellery that matches his own, he even gifts you a ‘friendship’ emerald, embedded in a choker you wear most days. And of course, if you ask for it, he makes sure to acquire a crown for you to match his own. As a man who forges his own weapons, he is aware of the process of smelting and sure, he could make the jewellery himself but he’s not very crafty with his hands. Dealing with the small potion vials he uses to brew is difficult enough for his large hands, let alone something as finicky and delicate as jewellery. But when he’d asked you to make your relationship ‘official’ per se, he did persevere and make a ring for you, he ended up making several and scrapping too many he didn’t think were good enough. This continued until Phil had to intervene telling him that if he wasn’t gonna hurry up and ask you he was gonna do it for him, mortified at the thought Techno buckled down and despite the ring’s faults, which were only obvious to him, he gave it to you. You adored it of course, and then he told you he had made it, and it only made you love it more. Techno had underestimated how he would feel when he finally saw you wearing it, he almost killed Phil. The two had been sparring outside in the snow when you had come riding up from the nearby forest, the ring on your finger glinting against the early morning sun and stunning him. Him blindly thrusting his sword forward, head completely turned to you as you approached. Only turning away when he noticed your horrified expression. Thankfully Phil was fine, but you were banned from flashing anything too shiny whenever you came to visit. Techno never heard the end of it from Phil and yourself, however, teasing him for it whenever you had the time.

Techno is a man of few words, for the most part. His love language leans closer to physical touch and acts of service. This man craves your touch, you can hold him so gently in your small hands and he can hardly describe the feeling that washes over him. He wonders if he feels contentment, or if he just feels whole for once. The latter terrifies him because he has no idea what he’s going to do if he ever loses you. That’s a lie. He knows what will happen. The voices will finally win, and it’ll be over. He’ll be lost in the consciousness of a mind that was never truly his own, to begin with. But when you hold him he forgets about all of it, his mind feels clear and quiet. Even if it's just for a few minutes he cherishes those moments, holding you tightly to his chest and simply letting himself breathe. You are his rock, undoubtedly. And now that he’s lived without you for so long, he never intends on letting you go.

Techno’s favourite way to cuddle with you is when you’re both lying on the couch, you draped over him, head on his chest. Sometimes he’ll read to you and sometimes you’ll lie with him for hours, begging him to take a break for once. Even Phil can’t pull him away from his work on his worst days, but you never fail to tempt him with warm cuddles by the fire. Another one of his favourites has to be when every blue moon you wake up before him, he’s quite a light sleeper so once you stir, he’ll wake too. But if you manage to remain undetected and get downstairs he will groggily trudge down the ladder, shirtless and hair an absolute tangled mess. Without a word he will simply wrap his arms around you, pulling your back tightly against his chest and nuzzle his face into your neck all whilst grumbling that you left him alone to wake up. You will always giggle and apologise with soft kisses and a steaming cup of coffee, of course, he begrudgingly forgives you. Those slow morning cuddles as you cook are some of his favourites. When you desperately try to scoot around the small kitchen to stop the eggs from burning and he merely holds you tighter, strength easily holding you back as you whine out complaints as he chuckles against your neck.

Techno is such a sucker for you whenever you kiss his scars. He has a few on his hands that you will always target if you ever feel if he is getting quiet or distant. Your lips on his skin always pull his spiralling thoughts back to the present, back to you. Whenever he starts to feel less than human you practically drag the man to your shared bedroom to remind him of how human he is. Sometimes Techno will tell you the tales behind the scars you pay particular attention to, others he won’t, you focus on those the most. Doing your best to lighten the dark clouds that plague him on his worst days.

Techno isn’t one for a lot of PDA, content to hold your hand and occasionally kiss your forehead. However, if he ever feels threatened by any of the other members of the SMP he is likely to hold you close and glare down anyone who dares look your way. But Techno isn’t intimidated by anyone at the moment, meaning he has no reason to act particularly possessive whilst you’re out. This man adores your hands, he loves watching how small they look in his own. He’ll kiss along your knuckles, especially if you’re wearing the ring he gave you, he’ll murmur a soft, ‘Looking gorgeous your majesty.’ Just to watch the way you smile brightly at him when he does, almost always leaning forward to meet his lips with your own.

Techno is plagued by the memories of his past, the voices a constant reminder of this. He can handle them during the day, but it’s at night when he’s most vulnerable to them. The first time Techno wakes from a night terror you are practically thrown out of the bed as he violently jerks around. Which instantly sets you on alert, Techno sleeps like a rock usually. It’s only when you manage to stand up that you can see him, his body is caked in sweat, strands of his long hair sticking to his skin, the sheets are even damp from it. ‘Techno.’ You try to wake him, knowing he’s a light sleeper. But that doesn’t work. Eventually, you cautiously climb back into bed, tenderly holding his face in your hands, noticing tears slipping down his cheeks as he practically trembles. ‘Techno.’ You call his name again, nothing. ‘Techno!’ He shoots up, sending you flying backwards again in case he threw a punch with him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown out. You’ve never seen him look so terrified before, he scans the room, eyes darting every which way until his eyes finally land on you. ‘A-Are you okay?’ You probe, the tears start again, but they are silent and run quick down his cheeks. His breathing is shallow and quick as his eyes seem to lose focus, looking straight through you. You move closer to him, ‘Hey, hey.’ You coo, unsure what the hell is going on because of course, Techno wasn’t going to tell you he has night terrors. You take his face in your hands again, wiping at the tears on his skin. ‘Techno you’re safe, you’re okay.’ You speak clearly before he pulls you closer, shoving his face into your chest, his arms tight around your middle. You wrap your arms around him as best you can, repeating comforting phrases until his grip loosens, and eventually, he pulls you back down to lie with him. You don’t ask him about it until he mentions it the next morning over breakfast. You hold him close as he talks, face emotionless and eyes blank, trying to distance himself from the events even as he retells them. You deserve to know the atrocious things he’s done. And yet you still choose to stay. Even after everything he tells you, you don’t budge from his side. That speaks louder to Techno than any confession of your undying love could.

Techno is a wanted individual and just by interacting with him, you’re put in danger. But being his partner doubles that danger by tenfold. His enemies will see you as his weakness and desire to use you against him. So, he takes it upon himself to train you, he knows the last thing you want to do is be the cause for his capture or untimely death. As much as Technoblade claims he never dies, if it were your life or his he would not hesitate to sacrifice himself for you. This terrifies you beyond belief of course, so you agree to let him train you. No matter if you already are somewhat skilled Techno’s paranoia surrounding your safety will always encourage him to push your skills further. Most early mornings the two of you spend together, sparring for hours until the sun is high in the sky or until you grow too exhausted to continue. Which in the early days, was often. But there comes a day when you finally best him. He doesn’t remember if he was going easy on you or was distracted by his surroundings, scanning the perimeter. He only remembers the moment you knocked him down onto his back, you look down at him panting with such a shocked expression. Techno looks up to you and holds out an arm, you take it ready to pull him back up only for him to pull you down with him. Techno holds you tight to his chest, the sun warm on both of your faces as it reflects upon the surrounding snow. Neither of you speak but you both understand what this means, you’re ready.

Techno isn’t one for grand gestures to prove his love to you. The man is dramatic, sure. But he finds himself yearning for simplicity, and you provide it. He doesn’t tell you he loves you very often, he is a man of few words, you’ve always known this so you never expected it. However, his actions scream it to you. Countless times you have mentioned small complaints about little things in your life and Techno takes them on as if the draft in your window had a personal vendetta against him. As if it had threatened your very life. You’d never seen a man fix a window frame so aggressively before. It was funnier to watch than you’d admit to him if given the chance. On one particular occasion, you mentioned his absence from the cabin, his explanation of the importance of the Syndicate and the new room Phil and himself had constructed. You understood and didn’t mention it again, not thinking anything of it but a necessary and temporary inconvenience. Only for Phil and Techno to be set up at the kitchen table when you came downstairs the next morning, the table covered in tattered books and coffee spill-stained scrolls. You were confused for a moment, spotting the Syndicate plans, codenames, etc sprawled out in Phil’s chicken scratch. Until it clicked. Hauling all of the stuff up from the Syndicate room had been a bit of a pain but the way your eyes lit up in realisation was more than enough for Techno to know it was the right choice.  

This man cannot keep a secret from you. Most may think he isn’t very talkative, but you can hardly get him to shut up sometimes. Not that you’d ever want him to, eager to listen to whatever he has to say. He will always come to you when he feels he needs advice, knowing you will offer a fresh perspective that may give him the breakthrough he needs to make an informed decision. You are his rock and he never wants you to forget that. He may be more talkative with you but that doesn’t stop him from being a fantastic listener. Sometimes he can get zoned out when the voices become too much. In the beginning, you found it difficult to tell when he wasn’t able to listen, but after being around him for so long you’ve got a better knack for it. And sometimes you can’t and you keep talking, he’ll just silently press a hand to whatever part of you is easiest to reach. And that usually gets the message across. Sometimes you can pull him out of his own head, and other times you can’t. So you just sit with him in comfortable silence, usually, you’ll place your smaller hand in his and lean into him. The two of you have fallen asleep countless times like that.

However, sometimes the fact he can’t keep a secret from you leads to some comical miscommunication neither of the two of you foresaw. Phil, Techno and Ranboo had left for around a week in search of a new woodland mansion to raid, following one of Ranboo’s countless maps. Upon their return, Techno seemed visibly, off. He wasn’t being distant or getting lost in his own head, it was more as if he were actively avoiding you. Which was something very un-Techno. What made your worry increase tenfold was when you asked Phil if he had noticed any kind of difference the blonde merely shook his head. “He seems normal to me, mate.” Because there’s no way Phil didn’t notice Techno’s change in behaviour, which means they’re both hiding something from you. Knowing the two men quite well, you knew they wouldn’t break. But Ranboo would. So with your head held high, you sought out to find the boy, only to find out he was staying in Snowchester for the time being but would be returning in the morning. That night thoughts of self-doubt plagued you, wondering if it was something you had said or done that made Techno act strangely. But just as the moon was reaching its zenith, Techno came into your shared bedroom. He beckoned for you to follow him, after putting on some snow appropriate outerwear the two of you were on the back of Carl headed towards the forest’s tree line that faced the cabin. You asked Techno where you were going his only response, “It’s a surprise.” And to say your heart soared would be a slight understatement when the two of you finally reached the forest clearing. A small candlelit dinner for two inside of a dark oak gazebo. One that looked as if it had only been finished recently, the veneer on the wood still in impeccable condition as Techno led you over to it. You were truly floored by this display, stars illuminated in your bright eyes. “Phil and Ranboo helped. We brainstormed on our way back from the woodland mansion. And I, I knew I’d spill the secret the moment you asked. Sorry.” His apology and explanation are curt, much like the man himself.  You hold him tight then, arms wrapped around him for as long as he’ll let you. He chuckles after a while, “C’mon, the food’s getting cold.” He pulls away after pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling your chair out for you because Phil told him to. The blush you provide lets him know he should do it more often. As the two of you begin to finish your food you hear the soft strumming of a guitar and an equally soft voice to match. Floating atop one of the branches in a nearby tree, as if he were trying to sit on it, is Ghostbur. He sends a small and quick wave when you spot him before his hand drops back down to his guitar. “Wow, you really pulled out all the stops for this, huh?” You look back to Techno to find him now stood up, offering his hand to you. “For you. Anything.” You take his hand and he leads you into the middle of the gazebo with a grace you always knew he had. Ghostbur continues to serenade, the two of you dancing in your own private world until the moon was low on the horizon once again.

Whenever Techno leaves to go and fight he knows you worry about him. You do not doubt his skills but his luck is bound to run out eventually. Skill and resources only account for so much of the outcome, luck and fate determine the rest. Techno worries when he leaves to fight as well. He worries about what will happen if he ever loses. When his enemies will come for you, his past now liable to catch up with you as well as himself. He can’t have that happen. That’s why he keeps fighting, he won’t stop until he knows that if he ever falls in battle you will be safe from his enemies past or present. When Techno eventually does get back from the battle, without fail you will swear up and down that he cannot keep doing this and that next time you’re going to leave him to bleed out in the snow on the porch. You never do. But some days Techno thinks you’d be better off if you did. But those are the kind of thoughts you happily kiss away with a soft smile and a few gently spoken words. You are always the one to patch him up when he’s injured, which isn’t often but you remain swift with sutures and bandages despite that. No matter how badly he’s been injured you will always hold him so reverently, with such a gentle expression that it never fails to floor him. Most sessions in which you patch him up devolve into soft gasps and warm hands on your body to repay you for your ‘services’.  

Techno knew you were different from the moment he met you. He acknowledges how stupidly cliché that is, but it’s true. The constant chatter of the voices in his head drowned out the first time he saw you, even if it was just for a moment. They stuttered and stammered, just as he did. You floored them as much as you floored him. When you were with him, they would quieten. As if they wanted to concentrate on what you were saying as much as he did. Not even Phil made the voices act in such a way. Only you. Nowadays they only bother him on certain bad days that grow more and more infrequent the longer you are in his life. You drown them out in a way nothing else in his life ever has. He doesn’t know how he can ever repay you for that but vowing to be by your side for the rest of his life seems to be a good enough start for the two of you.

The first time Techno tells you he loves you is when you’re in battle together. Techno, Phil and yourself had decided to raid a woodland mansion, something all three of you had done before with no trouble. But upon arriving, everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. This led to the three of you becoming separated within the confines of the thick wooden walls. You were managing to keep a level head but fear was growing in the pit of your stomach. With every vindicator you took down another only seemed to replace it, leaving you tired and heaving for air. You were in good shape all things considered but you were getting tired and soon you would get careless, you needed to find Techno and Phil and get the hell out of here before things got worse. Your totem of undying tied tightly to your waist glints against the setting sun pouring through the large floor to ceiling windows as you charge past, enemies remain at your back as you plough forward heading for the set of stairs you know are here somewhere. As you spot the sacred stairs you hear a shout of pain followed by a deep snarl. You look over the stairs balcony to see Techno swarmed by a group of stubborn Vex. He looks exhausted. Bloodstains him, you’re unsure whether it’s his, the enemies, or a combination of the two. Techno fails to notice the Ravager charging towards him from behind, the axe raised high above its head. The half-piglin far too distracted by the Vex and the aiming of his crossbow at their stupid little bodies. It takes only a moment for you to vault over the second-floor railing and plummet towards the Ravager. You land on its shoulders and it stumbles, your hand shoots out to restrain its axe-wielding arm. The other hand desperately clawing at you as it grumbles and groans grow high pitched and panicked. Your legs wrap tightly around its throat until you hear a sickening pop and you fall to the ground along with the now very dead Ravager. You don’t manage to catch yourself, despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You let out a soft groan as a hand comes into view, Techno following it. You take his hand and he hauls you back up and onto your feet. Now that you’re closer to him you can tell that some of the blood staining his clothing is his, but you’re sure you mirror his look. He doesn’t let go of your hand now that you’re stood up and neither do you. You look up from your entwined hands to his face, he’s staring at you with an expression you can’t quite determine. “Tech-“ His lips plant firmly onto your own, swallowing your words instantly. He grips the small of your back, trying to pull you closer into him as if the two of you could fuse into one single being. When he finally pulls away to let you breathe your lungs are burning, soft gasps heaving in air. “I love you-” He mumbles the phrase repeatedly against your lips like a prayer, a mantra, only to capture your lips again before you can even respond to his confession in kind. Eventually, the two of you break apart long enough for you to be able to tell him you love him as well. You knew he loved you before that moment, but in reality, he finally realised how much he loved you. And for the first time, it didn’t scare him.

~Requests are still open! But it’s a little full so please be patient!~

[kiatheinsomniac]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇-𝐔𝐏!*˚ .♡⋆ˊˎ -

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄! @someoneinthestars

Hello, hello! Can I ask for a Valentine matchup with a Genshin and Tolkien male please? My personality type is (apparently) INFP-T (I have no idea what that means but yeah), my hobbies are dancing, reading, writing and sometimes editing. I am usually a calm person, not thaaaaat patient though and a bit shy at first, but when I'm comfortable enough I'll talk as if there is no tomorrow. I'm a good listener too. I like to go out with my friends, spend time with my family, play with my pets, love physical affection and sweets! I absolutely dislike people who argue about anything, lies and arrogance!

ੈ♡˳ 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄!

♡ Kaveh's initially drawn to your calmness and introversion. You seem like a mystery to him and he wants to uncover what you're all about! It's ok that you're shy because he's a really talkative person so he'll do all the talking until you're comfortable with talking like there's no tomorrow. In the meantime, he likes that you're a good listener and you ask the sort of questions that prompt him to excitedly tell you about whatever project he's working on or to gossip about Akademiya scholars or his roommate.

♡ He'd just absolutely love to read anything you've written and he hopes that you can become comfortable enough with him to let him see your work. He's really attentive to what you've written and he's eager to know a lot about your thought process behind it all. He likes to pick up on the parts that he can tell you really enjoyed writing so that he can see you happily tell him all about it. You look so adorable in his eyes with that smile on your face.

♡ He treasures your days out together and he's always trying to organise stuff with your friend group (and later just the two of you) so that he can hang out with you more. He's always checking up on you too: dropping by your house to hang out and make sure you've eaten, dropping by your work/school with a coffee for you to make sure that you're not feeling too overwhelmed. He's down bad.

ੈ♡˳ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄?

♡ He picks you up from your house to go out to a local festival together. In his hands, he's got a bouquet of colourful paper flowers that he's deployed his architect skills to make for you. His perfectionism's really shone through with them because he wanted to make sure that they were just right and that they'd last for you. He wants you to know that he put in a lot of effort for the one who means a lot to him and so he decided it would be better to make you a bouquet than to buy you one.

♡ He's practically humming in excitement as the two of you go about exploring the festivities, surrounded by stalls and lights and many others who were here to enjoy the evening too. He likes you a lot though and gets a little protective so when the place gets busier, he takes your hand and guides it up to his arm for you to hold on to or he's guiding you around with an arm around your waist/his hand on your back. If you pay close enough attention, you'll feel how he's lightly trembling at being this close to you.

♡ The festivities go on until pretty late so if you get tired he'll offer to carry you back to your place on his back; of course you're not too heavy, have you seen the sword he uses? If you agree, you'll notice how he gently strokes his thumbs over your legs as he keeps you up on his back, not once complaining or faltering as he follows the familiar route back to your place. When you're standing in your doorway, he'll come really close and press a kiss to your forehead after telling you how much fun he had and wishing you goodnight.

missed the match-up event? try ships instead!

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not:  ∘ buy me a coffee?  ∘ commission me?∘ join my taglist  ∘ consider following/reblogging

[missgeniality]

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite​ 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest. 

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities​, @kithtaehyung​ and @baepsaetan​, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse. 

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’. 

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step. 

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir. 

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!” 

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells. 

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy. 

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink. 

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’” 

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you. 

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend. 

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses. 

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting. 

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed. 

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it. 

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame. 

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone. 

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.” 

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest. 

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours. 

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls. 

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold. 

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm. 

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance. 

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.” 

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist. 

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in. 

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole. 

“Fuck me.” 

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings. 

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat. 

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no. 

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do. 

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide. 

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

 Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!” 

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!” 

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke. 

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting. 

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago. 

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not. 

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down. 

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges. 

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance. 

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream. 

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites. 

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major. 

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency. 

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless. 

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?” 

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act. 

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!” 

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day. 

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage. 

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home. 

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster. 

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities. 

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man. 

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation.  He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one. 

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.” 

“Hey!” 

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self. 

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath. 

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact. 

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church. 

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out. 

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief. 

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream. 

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding. 

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out. 

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne. 

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon. 

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself. 

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin. 

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires. 

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side. 

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.  

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim. 

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain. 

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information. 

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!” 

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them. 

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck.  Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes. 

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.” 

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands. 

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.” 

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different. 

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you. 

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree. 

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can. 

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released. 

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself. 

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well. 

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat. 

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling.  You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat. 

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-” 

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say. 

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more. 

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again. 

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this. 

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long. 

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface. 

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment. 

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock. 

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back. 

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him. 

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right. 

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately. 

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release. 

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high. 

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you.  An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use. 

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him. 

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want. 

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago. 

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛:  @little7bitchh​, @afangirllikeme-blog​, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead​

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

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Behind the Keyboard Volume 29

Behind the Keyboard is a series of interviews with different Schitt’s Creek fanfic authors. The series will last as long as there is interest (from authors) and capacity (from me). If you are an author from the Schitt’s Creek fandom who would like to participate, send a DM to this account.  

Each author was given ten questions. The first five questions are the same for every author, the last five will vary.

Let’s meet our next author:

@fictasticvoyage / coffee_and_glitter

How many fics have you written?

I have 44 published works, and a notes app full of ideas, song lyrics, and gibberish!

When did you publish your first fic on AO3?

I published my first work on April 16, 2021 and never looked back.

Describe your writing process from “Oh, I have an idea” to pushing publish on AO3. 

I get so many of my ideas from songs I hear, so a lot of those start with listening to that song over and over.  They don’t necessarily turn into a songfic, but I do love those.  I like the fests and prompts I’ve done because I can take someone else’s idea and put my own spin on it.  I also love doing location research for my setting- I’ve given myself the travel bug more than once this way.

Anyway, many of my works are fairly short, so once I start actually sitting down to write I just bang it out if I can.  5+1s, which I am a huge fan of, take a little more thought, usually I start a doc with a list of what the parts are and then sometimes go out of order writing them.  Once something is done, I reread it like 4 times in a row  and then ignore it for a couple days before I give it one last look over for editing and then I send it into the universe when I hit post.

Tell me about your most recent fic? What do you love about it? Is there anything you think you could have done better?

My most recent was Watch Me Unravel for the Rare Pairings fest.  It’s about Patrick and Alexis, and I adore any time people write about their sibling-ish relationship!  I see a lot of myself in Patrick, and think I write him pretty well, especially in daily life kinds of things.  As far as ways I could have improved this one, I might have gone a bit further into David’s reaction at the end, but maybe not, because I wouldn’t want to take away from the Patrick&Alexis of it all.

What advice would you give to someone who’s thinking about publishing their fic for the first time?

DO IT!!!  I think a lot of us write based on things going on in our own lives, sometimes to help process things, sometimes just to reflect on things, and maybe writers think ‘oh who wants to read about this dumb thing that happened to me?’ but I promise we do! In fact, that personal element of writing what you know often leads to a more authentic voice for your characters, so it may just improve your writing. At the very least, it will get things out of your own head.

What is the favorite scene you’ve ever written?

In my fic The Promise of a Coming Day, there’s a bit where Patrick accidentally asks David out and then gets all nervous and starts backpedaling, but David ‘makes it all okay’ and I am really proud of the dialog in that bit.  Actually, that’s one of my favorite fics that I’ve done. It's set on a boat in West Palm Beach, and I’m very excited to write the follow up, as soon as all these fests are done!

What parts of writing are easy for you? What parts are hard?

I think the easiest is writing dialog. I sometimes overthink the more descriptive parts and think they get too wordy, but as long as I can stay in the character’s headspace, their dialog comes pretty easily.  The hardest part for me is the first and last couple sentences.  I often feel like my fics just throw the reader into the story and then out too abruptly, but when I try to rework those parts, they get too messy and it seems obvious, like I’m just adding random words.  So then I just go back to the original way and try to let my doubts go. I’m generally happy with them by the time I publish.

Tell me about your current WIP if you have one.

Right now I’m working on my claim for Passions and Pastimes.  I don’t want to say too much but it’s food related, but also with lots of family feelings as well.  I must have a theme- last year’s Passions and Pastimes I wrote about Patrick making homemade ice cream for the town contest! No ice cream this time, though. [Editor's note: This is Comfort Food, published last month.}

Alexis is trapped in a drug lord’s palace and you have to convince her captors to read your fic in order to free her. What’s your best sales pitch for your favorite fic?

Probably my favorite thing I’ve written is More Than Words.https://archiveofourown.org/works/32782474 , a 5+1 with Patrick playing guitar for David. SO… “Please, Mr. Drug Lord, let my friend go!  I have this delightfully sappy story for you, but really it’s a bonus because it’s actually six stories, and there’s some Ed Sheeran in there, and a really sweet bit about David when he’s sick, but there’s a bit with some Taylor Swift, and… oh, you’re a big fan of Taylor, well, this is perfect for you, you just take it and enjoy it!  OK, Lex, he’s busy, let’s get you out of those zipties and get the hell out of here!”

What’s one thing that you’d like to say to your favorite Schitt’s Creek character?

I’m not sure he’s my favorite, but I’d love to tell Ray that it’s so awesome how he is just absolutely his unapologetic weird self, and into all his crazy business endeavors, but also a really good friend and I love that!  Oh, and Ray, I’m working on bringing your girlfriend Felicia back again, so you’ll be seeing some action soon!