#writers always tell a bit too much about themselves in their writing. stories do not exist without context.

[fazedlight]

Zor-El turned to Kara again, his shock still apparent. “On Argo, they reproduce… like the animals? Like Daxamites?!”

I play this for a bit of humor in Even Though You're Kryptonian, and I hint at it in passing in my Bouquet ficlet, but I think something ends up underexplored in Kara and Lena's relationship is the fact that...

Her upbringing around sex is completely different.

I'm guessing, in a kryptonian upbringing, sex would certainly be discussed - a scientific approach, "this is how the few animals we have reproduce". It wasn't something that was ever on her radar as something she would ever do. It was a clinical fact. Utterly unremarkable in their society. We have technology to fix this.

(And when kryptonians get a bit older, of course, the whispers. Can you believe Daxamites do that for fun?)

This results in a headcanon for me that her experience of love and connection is less rooted in sex. While my headcanon is still that they have a very passionate and active sex life (where they're very interested in getting each other off 👀), I don't think sex is assumed for her in the way that an allocentric planet like ours assumes. (And I think, if more ace interpretations of her vibe with folks, that's 100% valid as well.)

This might be a bit of an odd interpretation on intimacy, so I will leave that there for people to take or leave. In a giant ocean of fandom with so many different interpretations, it's just another drop of thought.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[kimetsu-chan]

Hello! I was wondering if I could make a request, I hope you’ll be able to find this request in a good place, and please take your time! I’m also new to Tumbler, it’s terms and requesting as well! Though I have been reading fanfic for a while🙃 I was wondering if I could make a request for KIMETSU NO YAIBA? The character I specifically would like to request would be MUICHIRO TOKITO. I’ve requested a similar story for a different writer (But you could probably tell I’m impatient, but please take your time with this when you can get to it!)

The reader is a Hashira-specifically they filled in the role Rengoku had left after the he died

Before that, they were a Kinoto who was taken under the care of the Insect Hashira, and was her second Tsuguko along with Kanao.

(Reader) was picked for the Hashira role since they were a couple higher ranks than Kanao

Shinobu and (Reader) had a sibling relationship with each other. Shinobu had found (Reader) a couple years back in a forest, covered in dry blood and dirt all over themselves. No matter how much Shinobu pried at (Reader) they never told her where they were from, or what had happened to them the day Shinobu had found them.

(Reader) is around Muichiro’s age, and (Reader) tends to take after Shinobu a lot. Sometimes with her personality, Breathing style and more. Though (Reader) is their own person as well.

Though ever since (Reader) joined the Hashira, they seemed relentless when it came to bothering Muichiro. At least that’s how he saw it

Mind you, Muichiro is the only other person here who is working (Reader)‘s age-all they want is a friend!

In a way, you could say their relationship dynamic is like Shinobu’s and Giyuu’s

(Reader) always finds a way to at least bother Muichiro once, wether that’s when Muichiro is cloud gazing, and (Reader) is pacing around him while talking ecstaticly about their day. Or while their on a mission, and Muichiro sees them floating down to the ground right in front of him, elegantly landing in their tippy-toes (Think of the scene where Shinobu finds Zenitsu injured- Yeah that’s how Muichiro always sees (Reader) descending down)

When asking about his impressions about the other Hashira, Muichiro said that “(Reader)’s like a flower falling from a branch on a Blossom Cherry tree. They’re always so chatty too.”

Though one day, it felt strangely quiet for Muichiro. While he may have his head in the clouds 90% of the time, he felt like something else should be there, a sound or presence of some sorts- bothering him at all times. Though he couldn’t put a finger on it.. He shrugged it off and went about his day.

Muichiro was walking by when he saw (Reader) talking with three new Demon Slayers, one of them known for traveling with a Demon Girl… Muichiro’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Strange.. He felt this-twisting- feeling in his throat, like he could breath anymore. And his heart raced ever so slightly, accompanied by a burning feeling. This feeling.. Didn’t feel good. It felt prickly and sore, he wished for it to go away, as he remembered- That’s right! (Reader)! They haven’t bothered him- Not once all day! But- because of the new Demon Slayers?.. What’s so special about them? They’re just a bunch of Mizunoe’s.. He couldn’t see himself wasting his time by talking to them-So why would (Reader) do such a thing? Was he.. Jealous? No-no why would he be jealous? Over (Reader)? How childish! He scoffed to himself

Okay I’m going to stop writing here, sorry I tend to get a bit carried away😔 You can decide whether this be platonic or romantic, maybe both?😙 I hope you’ll be able to take this request, have a good day!

-Anon

~Unknown Feelings~

A/N: of course! And you know what, I would get on one knee for you anon, THANK YOU for making your request detailed :) hopefully this lives up to your expectations, I’m still learning so I apologize if it doesn’t in any way :)

This was written to be romantic

TWs: None, Mui bby is just jealous :>

[Last Name] [Name] and Tokito Muichiro. Not a duo many would expect. Since [Name] was so much like their sister, at first glance you wouldn’t bat an eye at them trying to befriend the air headed mist hashira. But one would assume they would give up after a while of being ignored. But they kept going, and the loss of the flame hashira didn’t seem to stop or even slow them down.

[Name] and Muichiro’s paths would cross occasionally even before they became a hashira. Muichiro would see [Name] either training or running around the butterfly mansion to help Shinobu.

He found them… curious, for that was the emotion they made him feel. He found himself slowly becoming entranced by their attempts to befriend him. At first he would scoff and say they were wasting their time. After all, a hashira had better things to worry about than mere friendship.

But the more time they spent together, the more Muichiro found himself missing them while they were on mission, and the more he found himself thinking about them. When asked, he would describe them as a blossoming cherry tree that was pleasing to the eyes. He would also say that they smelled like a cherry tree too, so maybe that is what fueled the idea.

That brings us to today.

Today, Muichiro was waiting by a pond in the back garden of the butterfly mansion. He had made it a habit to come there, by the cherry tree, daily to enjoy a lunch with the strange person he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He took in a deep inhale, which did not help the way he was currently feeling, and was reminded, once again, that [Name] was late.

Well, maybe late isn’t the right word since they didn’t officially say that they were going to spend lunch together every day. Muichiro even skipped on the days he had missions or was training after a recovery. But [Name] wasn’t on a mission, he had seen them earlier that day. And nor were they injured. So why were they late?

Muichiro gave up on waiting and stood up with a sigh. He straightened out his flowy uniform and took a quick scan of his surroundings for the person who had invaded his mind.

He sighed once more when he couldn’t spot them, and decided to walk around in hopes of bumping into them.

He wandered for about ten or so minutes, kicking rocks that rested in his path as he did so, when he heard the distinct sound of [Name]’s excited voice. His head perked up at the sound and his pace immediately quickened.

He was about to call their name and ask why they weren’t at the pond today, when he spotted three other slayers. Rookies no less.

Without knowing it, a scowl found its way onto the mist hashira’s face. A severely uncomfortable feeling enveloped his chest and mind at the sight of [Name] with someone else. His scowl disappeared as his focus was shifted to this new feeling he was experiencing. He looked down at his chest, nothing seemed to be wrong.

So why did it feel like his heart was going to leap out of his chest?

He gripped the cloth right in front of where his heart should be as the feeling returned in waves.

He didn’t understand what was going on, but he felt as if there were more pressing matters.

He lifted his head to look at the group of people once more and it felt as if his heart drop.

One of the rookie slayers, the one who hauled his demon sister around, had his hand on [Name]’s shoulder as they talked and laughed.

He felt a new serge of emotion that felt like anger and betrayal. Muichiro took a deep breath, finding it silly that he was letting mere emotions control him in the moment, and made his way towards [Name]. He walked up behind them and pulled a bold move. He wrapped his arms around [Name]’s stomach and rested his chin on their shoulder. He glared at the rookie slayers and the one who previously had his hand on [Name]’s shoulder quickly retrieved it.

Muichiro felt satisfaction when that happened and quickly turned his attention to [Name].

“[Name]-San, why are you wasting your time on these lower ranks? As a hashira, you should be focusing your attention on something more worthwhile.”

[Name] was a little confused. Why couldn’t they talk to lower ranks?

Muichiro quickly continued speaking before [Name] would even have a chance to shut him down. He unlatched himself from them and grabbed their soft hand in his. He stepped back and began pulling him towards the direction the pond was in.

“[Name]-San, let’s go have lunch.”

As Muichiro pulled [Name] along behind him, they couldn’t really do anything about it. They shot the other slayers an apologetic smile and the boy who had his hand on her shook his head with a smile of his own.

Muichiro was desperate to make himself the sole subject of [Name]’s attention. They quickly arrived at the pond and Muichiro sat down in his usual spot whilst he tugged [Name] down with him.

[Name] tilted their head at him with a small smile as they tried to figure out what the cause of Muichiro’s sudden behavior was.

“Muichiro-Kun, what was that? Are you quite alright?”

Muichiro nodded his head as he folded his arms with a pout.

“You forgot lunch. You never forget lunch. Also, why were you taking to them? You’re a hashira, you mustn't waste your attention on those lower ranks.”

[Name] chuckled softly as they straightened their posture.

“Muichiro-Kun, were you jealous?”

A/N: hopefully that was a good way to end it! This was not proofread, please let me know if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes!

Taglist: @tokito-dulya20 @larz-barz

[moonlightndaydreams]

Forbidden (A SKZ Family Secret) Part 4 of 8

Read Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 2.5 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8

Fem reader // Han Jisung // female Aunty Lina (Lino) // Hyuna (Hyunjin) // Suengmin

You are the nanny/housekeeper for Han and Hyuna (Hyunjin), helping take care of their two sons and keeping daily life in order. But what happens when Han and his Sister-in-law Lina take an extra liking to you, and you are caught up in a secret that you never could have imagined?

Chapter Summary: A little bit of backstory. We find out the baby's sex, and you get closer to Hyuna.

Writer's Note: I have to warn you that this is a bit of a tear-jerker. Well I was almost in tears writing this one. But there is smut at the end. I hope you like it, and I will see you at the other side.

Word Count: 3.8k (part 4) there will be more parts to come.

A few things to note before you jump in (as this might not be your cup of tea): * Hyunjin (aka Hyuna) and Lino (aka Lina) are female characters in this story (and one of them will be involved in sex). * There is cheating on partners. * There is manipulation and abuse of authority. * Female reader is an adult (in case you were worried)

Warnings: NSFW // Female Lee Minho // Female Hyunjin // cheating on partners // emotional turmoil // unprotected sex // pet names // sub dom undertones // pregnancy // mentions of adoption // breeding kink //

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

Lina:

When Lina married Seungmin she thought she was going to have a life filled with passion and excitement, and although Seungmin was a kind man who did all the the things that a husband “should”, she felt like his heart was never fully in it. She couldn’t really blame him though. The marriage was arranged, but somewhere inside her she harboured the hope that he might grow to love her.

She thought if she had a baby that might bring them closer together and give them a shared purpose, but she couldn’t seem to get pregnant. She felt like she failed him as a wife.

Lina had met Seungmin’s brother only a handful of times. He was friendly and kind, and went out his way to make her feel comfortable at family gatherings. Lina felt seen and important when Han was around her. She didn’t read too much into it, he was friendly to everyone. But as much as Han made other people feel comfortable and free to be themselves, Lina could tell he was lonely. She could tell that there was some self doubt in his eyes. He seemed a little sad. Maybe he felt like her? She went out of her way to be friends with him. One Lina’s favourite things to do for Han was cook for him.

The first time Han slept with her she was so shy and scared, but the way he was so hungry for her set her on fire. He wanted to look into her eyes, he wanted to make her orgasm, he wanted to give every inch of her skin attention. The things he said to her were graphic and naughty, but also tender and sweet.

Seungmin only wanted to have sex in the dark. Clinical. Get it done and out of the way. She was sure he only slept with her because that’s what married couples were supposed to do.

But with Han she had some kind of sexual awakening. She discovered things about herself, things she enjoyed, kinks even, that she would have never dreamed of with Seungmin. Over time she got brave and suggested naughty, filthy things for her and Han to try. She learned she loved to restrain Han and fuck his brains out. She loved how needy he would get when they didn’t spend enough time together. Han made her feel like a queen.

When you started working at Han’s, Lina felt a new feeling she couldn’t quite explain. She didn’t know she’d have feelings for a woman. By now Lina had developed a lot of self confidence sexually and she couldn’t help but experiment in flirting with you. She didn’t want to think of you as an experiment, but more an opportunity to explore the possibilities. Han was always talking about how he didn’t understand why we are taught that we can only love one person at at time. She had never believed him when he said this, because to Lina, she only really loved him. She cared for Seungmin, and she loved him as family, but passionate love? She’d only felt that way about Han.

Until she met you. And when she had both you and Han at the same time, well, she’d never felt more alive.

But there was still something missing from her life. She’d wanted a child so badly, and she hoped with all the sex with Han maybe she’d fall pregnant. She never did. When she found out about your pregnancy, and that you might not keep it, there was little spark of hope inside her heart. Maybe she’d have the chance to become a mother, and Seungmin a father, and she’d feel complete.

Han:

Han tried so hard to make Hyuna fall in love with him. He swore she thought he was a desperate fool. She made him so nervous. She was beautiful and so elegant that he would stumble on his words. The best he could do to share his feeling was by writing her songs and giving her flowers. She’d roll her eyes, but she’d smile. It was his favourite thing about her, the eye roll and smile.

Han was an eager and passionate man, but Hyuna didn’t seem to be as keen as him for sexual exploration, or even anything other than vanilla sex once a week. He would have been okay with that if he thought she loved him. She was fine with him watching all the porn in the world, but she wasn’t interested in watching it with him. She had sex toys, but other than using a bullet vibrator on her clit, he wasn’t allowed to use them on her. He couldn’t understand where he was going wrong? He wanted to please her, but it was like she didn’t want him to. Was there something wrong with him?

For years he felt lonely. He was at home by himself most of the time, and after some time he found himself thinking about Seungmin’s wife a lot. Lina. Han loved the way Lina would look at him. It was like he could relax and be himself. Sure he’d feel his heart rate increase and his behaviour around her would resemble a nervous, jittery fool. But that nervous inner chatter he felt when he was around Hyuna? He didn’t feel that with Lina. With her he felt pulled to her, like he was finding his way home.

Then one day when Hyuna and the children were away, Lina wanted to come over and cook a few meals for him. He remembered it clearly, like it was yesterday. She was standing in the kitchen stirring some batter for a dessert when he slipped in alongside her.

“This looks like it’ll taste delicious.” He’d said. He wasn’t referring to the mixture though. He was referring to her body. He didn’t miss Lina’s hand pause for a moment, or the way her cheeks flushed crimson red. It excited him. “Lina?” He whispered close to her ear. “Would it be okay if I stood this close to you?” He slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head over shoulder. Her hand stilled. She was flustered, he could tell. He could never fluster Hyuna.

“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Can I kiss you?” He held his breath waiting, hoping she’d say yes.

She unwrapped his hands from around her waist and Han felt panic and rejection surge inside of him. But all Lina did was turn around to face him and look into his eyes expectantly.

“Yes.” She said. In that moment everything changed for them. Han was on her fast and with an urgency neither of them had experienced before. He lifted her up and carried her to the spare bedroom off the kitchen and threw her down on the bed, kissing her like he hadn’t kissed a woman in a decade. “Tell me you want this as much as I do, baby.” He gripped her hips lifting them to press against his erection. “Please let me fuck you.” He said boldly. Yes, he’d escalated things quickly with such a brazen request, but he needed Lina like his life depended on it.

Lina’s eyes widened. “Oh, Han! Yes! But…but I’m… I’m scared.” Han lifted himself up and looked her in the eyes. “Baby, please don’t be scared. I only want to make you feel good.”

“Maybe… we should turn the lights off?” She stuttered. Han was taken aback.

“O-okay. But I really would prefer to see everything. I want to memorise every inch of your body.” His hand slid up to her cheek. “If that’s alright with you.”

Lina bit her lip and nodded. “Okay.” She sounded unsure about being so exposed and vulnerable, but Han was determined to take her to the stars.

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

It was the end of the day and you were sitting in the bath in your en-suite bathroom looking down at your growing abdomen. You rubbed your hand over the bulge on your stomach feeling the tight, smooth skin. How were you already halfway through this pregnancy? You’d just been to your twenty one week ultrasound where you were relieved to learn your baby was growing well.

“Can you tell what the sex is?” you asked the sonographer.

“Well, from what I can’t see here, it looks like you are having a little girl.”

A girl. Seeing her on the screen made everything seem so much more real. Her head, arms and legs. Hearing her heartbeat almost brought tears to your eyes.

You’d gone to the appointment with Lina. It was too risky to take Han, but Lina was able to meet you at the clinic easily enough. You could see the pure joy in her eyes when she saw the ultrasound, and you felt happy for her, but also, deep down, you were envious. You tried to push those feelings down and ignore them.

“We’re having a baby girl?” Han was beyond elated when you and Lina shared the news. He jumped up and down, spun you around, then spun Lina around. Then he sat down and cried staring at the little printout of the ultrasound. He looked up at you with tears streaming down his face. “I’m having a little girl.” It was like he couldn’t believe it. Your heart ached for him.

You poured some water over your stomach. “It’s all going to be okay little one.” You said to your bump that was poking out of the bathwater. “You’re going to be born soon and you’re going to be loved so much. You’ll grow up with a loving mother and kind father, and grow into the most incredible person.”

You had been talking to your baby a lot lately. Telling her stories about yourself, and how she was made out of a special, secret love.

“You won’t know me as your Mama, after you’re born. But I will be nearby, watching you grow. Seeing you learn to walk, hearing saying your first words.” You stroked your tummy and tears spilled from your eyes. “You won’t know your real Daddy either, but we will love you so much, little one. For now I am so happy that while your inside me, he and I get to be your parents, even if it’s just for a few more months.”

You were overcome with such a sadness that you broke down and sobbed. Loud, uncontrollable sobs. You wanted to hold onto this pregnancy for as long as possible. You wanted time to slow down. You wanted to keep your baby. That’s what you wanted if you were really honest with yourself.

Your sobs grew louder and you didn’t notice someone enter your bathroom. “Sweetheart?” she sounded shocked.

Your eyes shot up to where Hyuna stood. Her eyes fixed on your stomach. You quickly pulled your knees up to hide your bump but it was too late.

Hyuna met your eyes and her face softened when she saw how distressed you were.

“Oh petal.” She said softly and came to kneel at the side of the bath. She wrapped her arms around you and held you close as you continued to sob loudly.

“I’m so sorry.” You cried over and over again.

“Shh. It’s okay, little flower.” She stroked your hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

You pulled away and looked at her. “I know I should have told you sooner.” You stuttered through sobs.

“I knew you’d tell me in your own time. But I couldn’t not come in when I heard you crying like this.” She soothed.

You were taken by surprise. “You already knew?”

Hyuna nodded. “I know a pregnant woman when I see one.”

“How long have you known?”

Hyuna chuckled. “I suspected when you were getting nausea. Then the boobs. Then your choice of clothing changed.” She said like it was the simplest of observations. If she knew that what else did she know?

“Here, let me help wash you.” She grabbed the washcloth and soap and started to gently soap up your arms.

You tried to read her expression. Even in a moment like this she still seemed so calm. You sat in silence, thinking about what you should say. “It’s a girl.” You whispered eventually.

“Ah, a little princess.” Hyuna smiled. “Han would have been over the moon when you told him.”

Your eyes widened. She did know. But she didn’t seem angry. You opened your mouth but you were too scared to speak. “I’m sorry.” you choked. It was all that you could manage.

“It’s alright, petal.” She stopped washing you for a moment as if deep in thought, then gathered more soap to moved on to wash your legs.

“You’re not angry?” you asked in disbelief.

She shook her head. “No.” she said softly. She gestured to your stomach. “Can I?” You leaned back, making space for her to squeeze warm water over your bump. “I’m not angry. I’m glad Han finally has a chance to be fath-” She stopped mid sentence and looked into your eyes like she hoped you hadn’t heard her. She saw the shock on your face, and knew she’d been caught out.

“Han’s not the boys’ father?” you asked. That was absurd. Of course Han was their father.

Hyuna sighed and shook her head. “No.” She bit her lip as if trying to decide whether to elaborate. Why would Hyuna confide in you? You were having her husband’s baby. But her babies weren’t her husband’s.

There was a long silence.

“When I was young, before I married Han, there was another man. We were dating, but no one knew about it. He was my first love. He is my only love. He’s the father of Binnie and Chan.” She said solemnly.

“Then why did you marry Han if you were in love with someone else?” you were confused.

“Business. Money. Decisions outside of love. Decisions that were out of our hands.” She shrugged.

Oh. Your heart ached. “So what happened to this love?” he must have been still in the picture recently, Channie was only two.

“He’s married to another as well. Also arranged. To Lina.”

Seungmin? Hyuna and Seungmin?

“Seungmin’s your love? Suengmin’s the boys’ father? Does he know they’re his?” you held your hand up to your mouth to stop yourself speaking. This was not your business, and Hyuna certainly didn’t owe you any explanation. “I’m sorry, I’m the last person who should be asking these questions.”

“He knows.” She whispered.

“How does he cope? The boys think he’s their uncle.”

“It kills him. But the lie has gone on so long how could we ever tell the truth? Actually, you’re the first person to learn about suengmin and I.” She said.

“Why are you telling me so much? You should hate me.” you wondered.

“So you know you’re not alone. So you know that there are others close by that know what if feels like to be caught up in something forbidden.”

“I’m giving the baby up to Lina and Seungmin.” You said out of nowhere.

Hyuna paused in thought. “Lina has always wanted to be a mother. She’ll look after your little princess well. But just make sure this is what you want too. I’m lucky, my boys know I am their mother, but Seungmin, I hurt for him. It’s going to be hard for you and Han to have your child not know who you really are. But know, my sweet little flower, that we’ll look after you, whatever you choose to do.”

“Doesn’t the lie eat at you?” you asked.

“It is eating at us, but as far as me a Seungmin are concerned, we had our dreams, our future, stolen from us. We have resentment eating at us. I just hope you won’t have resentment eat at you.” She said looking at the water with a sadness you had never seen from her.

“Do you love Han?” you really wanted to know how she felt about her husband.

She shook her head. “Only like family. I’m not in love with him.”

“He loves you.” You said.

“Han might love me but not like he loves you and Lina.”

“You know about Lina?”

Hyuna laughed loudly this time. “Of course. They are the worst at keeping secrets!”

“Why did you try to call him out on cheating, but never outrightly approach him?”

“I wanted him to get better at hiding his affair. He was sloppy.” She shrugged.

“When did you know about Han and me?” you were seriously interested with the answer to this question. You wanted to know what gave you away.

“When he kept sneaking out of bed and you ended up pregnant. It just made sense.”

“So you and Seungmin have kept your entire relationship hidden for over a decade, and Han and Lina, and now me, couldn’t even keep things secret for five minutes?”

Hyuna nodded. “Like I said, sloppy.”

It was almost comical if the whole thing hadn’t been so tragic.

“Hey,” Hyuna smiled brightly. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“Can I take pregnancy photos of you? You know, like artistic photo shoots of your growing belly? A keepsake for you?”

“Really?” you hadn’t even thought about taking progress photos, save for a few crappy mirror selfies.

“Mmm, and I’d really love to paint a portrait of you too when you’re bigger. If you’ll let me.”

You looked down at your belly. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me.”

“Is that a yes?” Hyuna searched your face.

You nodded and smiled. “It’s a yes.”

Hyuna helped you out of the bath, brought you a hot chocolate and tucked you into bed.

“I promise everything will be okay, petal. I’m going to go to bed now but Han will with you soon.”

She kissed your cheek and turned out your light as she left.

Although you seemed to still be coming to terms with giving up your baby, you were feeling overwhelmed with love and support from the people around you. Hyuna, of all people, was seemingly the most understanding and supportive of everyone. To have her approval, despite knowing who the father was, made you feel less ashamed of yourself. Hyuna even wanted to help you create some memories for you and your unborn baby. Somehow in this crazy, messed up situation, Hyuna understood you the most.

Hyuna was right, Han did come to you shortly after. He slipped into bed and spooned you. “How are my girls?” he snuggled in and wrapped his arms around your stomach.

Your mind thought about Seungmin. Did he ever lay snuggled up to Hyuna with his arm wrapped around her swollen stomach like this? Did he lay there wishing with everything he had that her baby could call him Daddy?

You wondered if Hyuna shared her story with you to give you a chance to choose differently? But what about Lina? You couldn’t just break her heart like that.

You rolled over to face Han. What did Han’s heart want? Was he content with your decision?

“Hannie?” You rubbed your thumb along his lower lip.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He threaded his fingers through yours and kissed your hand softly.

“I mean like really, really love you.” You added and pushed him onto his back and straddling him.

“Oh!” You could see him grin in the moonlight. “Feeling a little frisky tonight, hmm?”

You smirked. “Let me take care of you Hannie. I wanna make you feel good.” You couldn’t make this situation better, but you could give him all the love in the world.

He was already naked, he never slipped into your bed wearing clothes, and you had already shimmied your panties off before he arrived. You rolled your hips so you could feel the length of his cock rub against your core. Fuck, it felt so good.

“Baby, you look like a goddess, you know that right?” he moaned, pushing his hips against you.

“Can I fuck you, Han?” you said low and measured.

“Baby,” he said excitedly. “Please. Please fuck me. I wanna feel you around my cock.” He was already so needy. You leaned down and kissed him hungrily, letting yourself savour his the taste of his lips. For the first time you didn’t feel that feeling of guilt of cheating on Hyuna that normally hung over you. You didn’t know it had been weighing you down as much as it had. You suddenly realised you always had this sick niggle in your gut that you might get caught fucking each other.

But now there was no one to catch you. You channeled this newfound freedom into the way you moved above Han. Confident and immersed in the moment. You lined yourself up with his cock, and sank down slowly, relishing the slow stretch and the feeling of fullness as you met his pelvis. Han’s hands immediately came up to grip your hips, firm, but not as aggressive as he usually was. He was letting you set the pace. You glided up and down his length, throwing your head back and caressing your breasts and stomach.

“Do I look sexy pregnant?” You purred.

“Oh god, yes. It’s like you were put in this earth to have my baby.” He squeezed your breast with one hand and dragged it down over your swollen abdomen. “ I can’t wait until you grow even bigger. You make me want to keep you pregnant all the time. After you have this one, I wanna filled you up with my cum constantly, get you pregnant over and over.“

You’d missed his graphic words, he’d been speaking to you so gentle and considerate for weeks, and all you wanted was that devious, horny, feral side to him.

You rocked on him harder and faster. “Touch my clit, Hannie, make me cum. I need you to make me cum.”

He reached down and applied pressure to your sensitive clit and you immediately picked up the intensity, bouncing up and down on his cock. “That’s it, baby. Come undone on me. Make a mess all over my cock… Ngh… yes … that’s it…fuck… I’m gonna cum.”

“I’m coming, Han… fuck… don’t stop… ahhh” you threw your head back as you came, at the same time you felt Han’s hot seed paint your insides. “That’s it, baby milk it all out of me.” He said as he thrust the last of his cum into you. “Look at you. Such a good girl taking every last drop.”

You were exhausted after that, sliding off of him and catching your breath. Han rolled over. “I wanna have like ten kids with you.” He kissed you then went to get a warm cloth to clean you up. He laid by your side until you fell asleep, then he left your room quietly.

For the first time in months you slept through the night.

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

Read Part 5 here

Taglist: if you would like to be on the taglist for this series please reply to the post HERE

@lyramundana @channieandhisgoonsquad @2chopsticks2eyes @queenmea604 @noellllslut

@leeknowsthigh @chlodavids @antoniorhinothethird @bangtanmix73 @linocvp1d @sunshinesquokka

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  fragilecapric0rn! @fragilecapric0rnn has written 22 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and 21 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@cheatghost recommends the following works by @fragilecapric0rnn:

It Might Be Worth It For Once

clown music at the disco

you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost

Catch Me (I'm Falling)

Anyway, It's About Old Friends

"Sen's body of work is like a truly love letter to the characters. No matter the universe, Steve and Eddie always feel authentic to themselves. Sen's love for classic rom-coms influences a lot of her writing and makes for really romantic, touching stories. It's an absolute delight to dive into a world crafted by this author!" -- @cheatghost

Below the cut, @fragilecapric0rnn answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I think in May of 2022 I was bit by the same bug as everyone else. Before I started writing Steddie, I was on a 4-year fic writing hiatus, and it was like seeing those two interact on screen zapped my brain awake. The chemistry, the potential, the fact that one half of the ship got ripped away from us too soon. All of those components really did something to my brain and I decided I had to write them and I haven’t looked back since!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a idiots to lovers! These two really have the potential to fit that trope so well!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Second-chance at romance! If you’ve seen any of my fics, you know that I love and will take any chance to write 90s older steddie, haven’t spoken or seen each other in years, who re-meet and fall in love. It is so them, it is my favorite version of them. It’s the version of them that lives in my head!

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

There are so many good ones to choose from, but I think I have to go with Show Me the Place Where He Inserted the Blade by the incomparable, the magnificently talented and outstanding Cheatghost. Lou, who I am very proud to call a friend, is one of the most talented people I know and I feel very lucky to have had them brought into my life via the Steddie brainrot.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Is it lame if I say no? LOL. Honestly, I have written almost everything I have felt the need to explore with this pairing. A lot of my ideas moving forward are expansions/continuations of ideas that I already started or have posted before. 

What is your writing process like?

Right now it’s at its most unstructured because I am rawdogging life without my ADHD meds for the first time in 7 years, which has been a whirlwind but I am managing. However, it usually depends on the fic I’m writing! For a lot of my longfic, I have a physical notebook that has an outline and major plot points I want to hit at certain times in my stories. Other times, for the shorter fics/one-shots, I just write them all in one go. It starts with a (usually silly) idea, and then I get possessed by the writing demons, and suddenly, I haven’t moved from my chair in 2 hours and I have four thousand words on my screen. I contain multitudes!

Do you have any writing quirks?

I am a victim of the: One word. One phrase. Lin breaks for emphasis. And I will be doing it until someone who is being paid real money to publish one of my original works tells me to knock it off!

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Again, asking if it’s bad if I say neither? When I first started posting fic again, I was very much writing it all and then posting it over the course of a few days. But now, I tend to write sporadically and post even more sporadically. And I prefer the latter! Fanfiction, and fandom in general, is a collaborative experience in its heart and soul. One of my favorite things about longfic is posting a chapter and seeing what people take away from it, because 9/10 it’ll be different then what the writer thinks they’re going to take away! And the chance to change and rework and let yourself be influenced by other fans of the ship is taken away when you write it all at once and post it all at once.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Anyway, It’s About Old Friends. Even in its unfinished form, it is my magnum opus. My white whale. I have done some of my best writing in it (chapter 2 MY BELOVED) and the fact that its so close to the end is both exciting and terrifying. It is a fic I wrote and continue to write for me, and the fact that other people are reading and enjoying it is a win!

How did you get the idea for It Might Be Worth It For Once?

HA! So, I was chatting with my friend Emily (JudasofSuburbia) about a potential Pornstar!Steve AU offhandedly back in the fall. Then, I got paired with them for a little fic exchange between friends, and it felt natural to take that one off little conversation and turn it into a fic for her. It was one of those fics that started out as a silly idea and then suddenly it’s been six hours and I wrote the whole thing in one go! After some polishing and editing, it became a Pornstar!AU with not as much smut as I expected. It was so fun to write, made even more fun as it was for a dear friend.

When writing Anyway, It's About Old Friends, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to change and mold and morph in the way that it did. There is a version of this fic where they do hook-up earlier, there’s a version where they re-meet at gay club and not a wedding, there’s a version where Steve marries a Evie and Eddie is Raul. But, this version feels the most right. It’s a story about heartbreak, about finding love (in all it forms) in unexpected places, and it’s about found family most of all. All of that was stumbled on accidentally! My only intention was to write a Steddie-fied When Harry Met Sally fic, and accidentally flashed my heart and soul. Whoops!

What inspired clown music at the disco?

I used to be an opener at a coffee shop and there is something so disorienting and mind altering about having disco music blasting on the speakers at 4am. But, it was in one of those moments, where I was so tired I was nauseous, that the fic idea came to me! I had already been thinking of writing as my first fic, Steve and Eddie accidentally have a Devil’s Sacrament moment at the gay bar, but the line “But it’s Disco Night”, came to me at the ungodly hour of 4 in the morning. What a time!

What was your favorite part to write from you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost?

The Never Have I Ever Scene! It was the first time I wrote the entire party in one scene and it’s chaotic and a little messy but it was one of my favorite parts of the fic. It also made me realize how much I love writing ensemble scenes! Just everyone trying to talk over each other, chaos in its best form.

How do/did you feel writing Catch Me (I'm Falling)?

I wrote this fic in the span of like almost 3 weeks? I was sick and burnt out for most of the time I was writing it, but it was almost a compulsion. I had the idea and I just HAD to write it. No outline, just vibes and Steve Harrington in a cheerleading uniform! I took it down for a while because I was turning it into something else, but then had a change of heart and put it back up. And part of me is glad that I took it down for a moment because people love to be weird about the feminizing Steve’s character, and even though I was writing him as a cheerleader, I tried really hard to keep him earnestly himself, and in character.

What was the most difficult part of writing Anyway, It's About Old Friends?

Writing about San Francisco while being the most homesick I have ever been in my life. Also writing Eddie in those first few chapters as an asshole but not unlikable. I didn’t want him to be “fine” (because no one is fine in this universe, especially not in the beginning) but I also didn’t want him to do or say anything too bad. I think I got a handle on it pretty well.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

In Faces Freedom With A Little Fear, the first scene in the hospital with Steve’s sister. She storms in, threatens federal agents, all for her brother. JJ Harrington you will always be famous!

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Just my current WIPs! Anyway It’s About Old Friends; the When Harry Met Sally AU of my dreams. Hand on My Stupid Heart; the modern AU, where the UD exists but everyone has iPhones and Steve deals with his bisexuality!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Shout out to my boys! Kkpwnall, judasofsuburbia, figthefruitfaeth, gideoncharov, cheatghost, fastcardotmp3, snowangeldotmp3 you guys rule and they’re all so talented!!!! Thank you to whoever nominated me! I feel the love and give it back to you tenfold!!!!!!

Thank you to our author, @fragilecapric0rnn, and our nominator, @cheatghost! See more of fragilecapric0rn's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[celestie0]

🪷 girl fuck these people I'm really sorry you're getting so many messages bitching about no smut in ch10. Like who even cares? Does a story or chapter have no value if the characters aren't going at it like rabbits and fucking and sucking on each other?

At this point if you're so disappointed about no hanky panky just go read one of those pornhwas where the characters start screwing at the drop of a hat.

I would've loved that chapter with smut or without smut idgaf it doesn't even matter to me (and the same is for most of your readers too, I'm sure of it). We've all stuck around with your work for so long, and we have faith in your direction as well as your decisions regarding the pace of the plot. It's never that serious, especially not to the stage that bozos feel the need to weep in a writer's asks and swamp them with negative messages. Go jack off or play dj with your hello kitty and go to sleep like the rest of us.

Again, no matter what you do with your work it's entirely your choice. Ofc we as readers can have our own takes and how or why we interact with the work can vary, but it shouldn't reach this stage. I've seen this same story of bullying and pestering authors on tumblr too many times with other authors whose work I enjoy, and many have left their blogs because the harassment made them lose interest in writing and sharing their pieces. It's fucking heartbreaking. Pornhub dot com is right there for y'all to be doing entirely too much in the asks of these writers who are already overwhelmed and write and share all this FOR FREE. If you have so many qualms about it pick up that bic and get to writing bitch!

I'm sorry babe take care! We love you🫂

AHHH LILYPAD ANON I APPRECIATE U SM THIS MEANS THE WORLD TO ME 😭😭 you’re always so kind to me i sobs

yeahh sigh :( i was just a bit upset that ppl were already finding fault w a chapter i haven’t even released yet just bc it doesn’t have smut in it 😭😭 like i obviously know by now that i can’t make everyone happy, but it’s not right to subtly pressure me into a certain direction for my story (ik this is a normal thing authors/writers have to deal with, i am just a weakling unfortunately 💀💀 my therapist wld agree)

i know it’s not most of my readers though :”) everyone is so sweet n kind n patient, i just don’t understand the some few that think that just bc they tell me they’re disappointed there’s no smut, that i’m somehow gonna go back to my 80pg dissertation of a chapter n make it 100pgs just to add some for them 😅…like no. what it DOES make me feel is icky n sad

frankly it’s really uncomfortable to make an author feel bad that there’s no explicit sexual content in a story 😅 your horny brainrot is showing. like, i AM def planning to write smut in kickoff, there will be multiple smut scenes to come. but even if i suddenly chose not to include them anymore, that’s my right to do so.

and yes, if they want smut, they can write it themselves. why do i need to be the one to write it for you? i don’t owe anyone anything.

i totally agree w you. honestly, i feel bad sometimes setting these boundaries, but you’re SO RIGHT in that SO many authors leave their platforms bc of hateful asks/pressuring comments etc, i’ve seen it time n time again. bc it’s true that it DOES get to people, especially when creating art is already a very stressful thing. i don’t have to passively tolerate rude strangers on the internet just because i’m trying to protect n pursue my passion

thanks sm for trusting my direction :”) and YES absolutely!! i love it when my readers disagree w character actions or emotions, bc characters have flaws n i’m intentional about those flaws, so it’s exciting to see opinions my readers have, even if they’re in disagreement, because it’s interactive w my work. not that i expect anyone to interact ever. i understand that i post on my own accord, so readers can choose whether to interact on their accord as well.

but something about pressuring me into writing explicit sexual content into a story that i’d like to think is a lot more than just smut, is really disheartening.

- ellie 🐸

[celenawrites]

TW - just a vent about fandom stuff.

I feel kinda sad about how some creators in the CoD fandom have now abandoned creating content for the game series due to the demanding nature of other fans who used to consume their content. (fics, art, etc)

Like, these artists/writers in the fandom write fanfics/create art, FOR FREE OF COST and dedicate SO MUCH TIME AND ENERGY to their craft despite not getting much in return, only to deal with senseless hate, ignorance, stupidity and get treated as content generation machines; instead of actual human beings with jobs and studies and friends and families that need their time and attention as well.

A lot of us folks who write or draw do this as a hobby. As an outlet for our creativity, and we find this community for the media we are currently fixated on and we create things inspired by it cuz it brings us joy. IT MAKES US HAPPY SO WE CREATE CONTENT FOR IT!!! And then to see the same fandom/community and their horrendous behaviour driving away the creators from the fandom and the media itself is just....sad. Very disheartening.

Like I miss so many of the creators who have just given up on CoD cuz of this issue. Their works have inspired me to start writing again. They make me wish I start learning how to draw and paint again too. Their works have touch my soul, and made me happy - gave me something to look forward to every day.

But I'd much rather they leave the fandom and take care of themselves and their life, than to succumb to this weird pressure fans and fan-content consumers put on them, y'know?

Plus recently, I've seen a lot of racist and stereotypical prejudices from some CoD fans (and even some creators). I know a lot of them are new to the fandom, I was too. But I took an active effort to learn more about this game series. (and it's an ongoing effort cuz I cannot afford to play the games so I have to settle for wiki articles, gameplays, and comics) And I see so many fans not give a shit about it. They treat these characters as blank canvases to fulfill their hypersexual fantasies. (I like me a good smut fic or two, don't get me wrong) But that just makes it impossible for newer fans to get to know more about the lore and the characters. I had just finished watching the campaign for MW, and let me tell you, there are so many complex missions, characters and storylines to explore and depict through fanfics, and it's insane so many people disregard it for their whimsies so easily. That will just stunt your growth as an artist/writer! Read up on the lore, watch the game plays(the OGs and the remakes!) , maybe even read the comics!!! I promise you won't regret it ever!!!

Also, please! For all that is holy, stop putting these complex fictional characters into restricted boxes and label them. That just makes them so one-dimensional. Like -

Soap is not always cheery and bubbly and your fellow bestie. Simon is not an abuser/emotionally dead asshole just because he has a hard time expressing his emotions like everyone else. König, despite the lack of storyline/lore we have on him, isn't an uwu social anxiety babygirl, damn it. Stop excluding Gaz from your HCs and fics! He's a complex man with so many interesting things to explore about his overall story and psyche as a part of 141. He's not always begging for Price's approval either, he can and has objected to how questionable their methods have been regarding their field/work. Stop excluding Gaz from 141 stuff! It makes you look like a POS, and a lot of the people who exclude him are doing so for....pretty racist reasons. As a POC, this shit sucks balls. Also stop stereotyping POC characters in CoD - Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria, Gaz, Farah....just stop. Their ethnicity or race should not deter you from writing about them in a way that doesn't come across as prejudiced and ill-informed.

Also, not necessarily a rant, but please consider/remember the fact that the military has always been a bit of a morally dubious field of work irl, and just cuz CoD is military-centric and features characters who work in the army or PMC and take out bad guys - that doesn't take away from the violent history military has and how they have contributed to the deterioration of many countries (mainly in the Middle East). Heck, even these characters in the CoD games have done extremely unethical things and employed treacherous methods in order to get the job done. These characters may be good people in fiction, but that doesn't mean that they have done great things or have always stayed morally pure. Explore the dubious nature of it all - explore how dark and harrowing it can be for them and for the people that unwittingly or knowingly get involved in their work. It's dark and twisted but it's crucial since it's inspired from our world and it's necessary for us as humans and as artists to explore such themes and analyse them! It's crucial for the soul!!!

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 2 | bangchan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, mentions of cheating, profanity, Chan being completely oblivious, a cliffhanger in the end

Author’s note: this is Chan’s POV; the change from “she” to “you” seems very poetic to me as the story progresses lmao. There are a lot of flashbacks, they are highlighted so that you don’t get lost. hope you enjoy! Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 1 | Part 3

The first time Chan ever saw your face was at a book fair six years ago.

He attended with his friends and girlfriend at the time; she was keen on adult novels so much, that she could never miss the opportunity to buy and read something new.

You were exactly were the girlfriend wanted you: at the “18+ novels” stand. Telling people about books, suggesting different stories to buy, and laughing at even improper jokes some customers were making.

His ex-girlfriend got an invisible hold on you, becoming the customer who seized your attention for the next twenty minutes. Every book was described in such details, that even Chris got involved and bought one. Not that he ever read it, though — he was more a fan of detective stories.

But his girlfriend? Bought a copy of each book. She spent so much money at the fair, and had to ask her parents send a little bit just so she wouldn’t die of starvation. Yeah, being a student was his favourite time, surely.

The book fairs at the campus happened every six months, so in a half year he was there again, that time volunteering at the children’s section. Only then he found out fifty percent of story collections and books were written by the students themselves. He didn’t see you at the fair that time, but he definitely saw an opportunity.

Three days later he was at the writers’ club gathering, having collected all his poems in a green binder. Chan was never socially anxious, making friends and new acquaintances anywhere he went, but that time was different. He felt out of place, thinking everyone was (or at least, looked like) really smart and he? He never felt that way. His, by that moment already ex, girlfriend had always been making fun of him for almost failing his maths classes. She used to say, “If someone is failing maths, they’re not good at anything”. Weird shot, but okay. It’s not like he was a genius, he reminded her and himself, and maths was pretty hard, too.

Was Chan’s not being a maths genius the main reason she cheated on him? Who knows, she blocked him right after he found out about her affair. Good for him. Good.

The breakup rediscovered his long-forgotten talent — writing poems. He had so much of them he didn’t know what to do. Before the writers’ club. Maybe here he’d find a way to show his true self to the world.

As he sat down in the corner of the room, at the back of the hall, he noticed just how many people were apart of the club. And they were all friends, too. “I’m not here to make friends”, Chan shook his head, “I’m here to get published”.

Suddenly the seat near him was taken. A girl with a pink binder, who, as Chan noticed only by a quick look at her face, was displeased with something. Maybe her book or story idea got rejected?

“Hey”, Chan started, slightly turning his torso in the girl’s direction, “d’you know how to get published?”

The girl’s eyebrows raised, eyes darted to him. “Shit, what did I even do?”, the wave of panic rose from his feet right to his head the moment he saw the look in her eyes. Dark, full of anger.

“You came here just to get published?”, despite the way she presented herself, her voice sounded pretty nice. “You have to get through professor Martins first”.

“Literature professor, yeah?”

She nodded. For some reason, Chris found her features… mesmerizing? No, that was too much for a person he’d just met. “He put me through nine circles of hell before even considering publishing. Change this, rewrite that, the characters are too unrealistic — yeah, like, he would know, how real teenagers communicate”, she wanted to say something else, but quickly covered her mouth with her palm. “Anyways, he knows if your work is worth it”.

“Did you get published?”

“Yup. I literally had to die and come back to life for this to happen”.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Literally?”

“Literally, dude. Everyone here has done it, at least once”.

Later that night he carried two binders in his hands — the girl was kind enough to share her works with him. Professor Martins absolutely destroyed Chan’s poems (and will to live as well), stating,

“They lack in grammar. It’s too simple”.

And it was the nicest thing he said. Chan had never, even years after graduating, felt another sudden urge to weep in his car like it was that evening.

“Is he always like this?” he asked the girl, back at his seat.

“Did he brutally murder your dream of becoming a writer?”

Chris nodded, letting out a shaky sigh. The girl’s lips curved into a soft smile, and she patted his shoulder, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “Yeah, I know. You’ll ignore the next few meetings, but will come back, eventually. Martins’ like that horrible ex you keep coming back to, y’know?”

Such a pretty smile. It was somehow similar to his, Chan admitted, while staring at the ceiling of his dorm room: dimples on full display, and her left one deeper than the other, mirroring his prominent right dimple. Chan didn’t realize that a smile, so similar to his, would be as magnificent as it was.

And he’s been thinking about it since then. Only for her dimples to be shown more rarely the further the time went on; he hadn’t seen mush of them recently. Just her regular, half-smile to whatever jokes he was telling — even her favourite ones didn’t do the trick.

“A man walks into his home to find out all his lamps were stolen. D’you know what happened to him?”

“What?” If he had paid more attention, he would have noticed the flatness in her voice, the shaky breaths and head pressed into the pillow.

“He was delighted”, Chris giggled, expecting the same reaction from her. Dad jokes were her thing, something she snorted to whenever the chance was given. But then it was nothing. Just her humming to him in response.

“Goodnight, Chan”.

He didn’t say anything. She had told him previously she had some problems at work, so he assumed it was the reason for her putting distance between them.

“You should get more sleep, tiger”, Chan put the strand of hair behind her ear, his hand staying on her cheek, gently caressing her under eye by his thumb. She leaned into the touch, but he didn’t notice. He never did.

“I hate that nickname”, she mumbled.

“I also hate being called “shawty”, but it never stops you”, the corners of her mouth quirked up, her lips uttering yet another nonsense.

“It’s ‘cause you’re short”. The first time she said that Chan’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Six years later it was just a regular thing to hear from her. Being 4 centimeters taller than him, as she firmly believed, gave her a right to point out their height difference on every occasion.

“And you still have that ridiculous tiger costume”.

“Like it’s a crime”. She huffed and left his soft embrace, marching into the kitchen. “We all make mistakes when we’re young, you know that, right?”

“Mistakes don’t get engraved into a memory of twenty people. People trying to striptease in a tiger costume do”.

A flush creeped across her cheeks, and Chan couldn’t help but smile. Making her embarrassed about something was his ultimate favourite thing. She cleared her throat, trying to reply, but instead Chris only heard the buzzing. Shutting and opening his eyes twice to check if it was real, and the sound only intensified.

The reality hit him immediately. Jumping on his bed, taking the phone from the nightstand — failing miserably, as it slipped from his hands and fell on the floor — “Shit, shit, shit”, picking it up in panic (the screen wasn’t damaged) and sliding across to answer the call.

“Chan, we need you at the studio. See you in an hour”. Lee Know ended the call before Chris could even open his mouth. Great. Another day off ruined.

Chan laid back in the bed, his head hitting the headboard. “Ugh, shit”, he winced, rubbing the back of the head. What’s next? He’s going to get up and break his leg?

His idea to scroll through the news was interrupted by a text. From her, three hours ago. Did he forget something at her place?

“I’m tired of this bullshit. We r not a thing anymore”.

“Oh and yeah. What’s this between us? This bullshit? It’s no friendship. We stopped being friends the moment you decided to fuck me. You know I have feelings for you, all these months you knew. And you didn’t give a fuck about it. So why should I? So yeah, that’s it. Leave the spare keys under the rug. Never call me. Because whenever I hear your voice or see you face… Whenever you’re around, I just feel more alone. Bye, Chan”.

And he jumped from the bed.

“Hey, your button”, Chan took her pants in his hands and observed the troubled area carefully.

“Yeah, it’s barely holding. Every time I sit, I think it’s gon’ fall”.

“Why haven’t you fixed it?”

“Argh”, she scratched the back of her head, looking everywhere but at him. “Don’t have the time”.

“Bring me the needle and a thread”, he sat down on the bed. She went though all stages of something that time: scratched her ear, rubbed her rosy-colored cheeks, sighed and moved onto rubbing her neck.

“You don’t have to…”

“Now”.

“Okay, boss”, she mumbled, almost flying from the room.

“I can do it myself, y’know”, she was observing him sewing the button too carefully. Her standing right in front of him — overshadowing the light — didn’t help at all.

“Sit down, Bob the Builder”.

She complied, but with a heavy sigh and a violent plop on the bed, which made Chris jump involuntarily; if he hadn’t been holding her pants and the needle as tightly as possible, it all would have been on the floor.

“Every time you say ‘I can do it myself’, you end up breaking something. The nail, the shelf, the hand”. She groaned in response. “Stop bouncing your leg, it’s distracting”.

“Jeez! Stop bossing me around, Miranda Priestly”.

“I thought you like it when I tell you what to do”. He was too concentrated on fixing her button to see, but he knew. Her ears turned red as she covered her face, and then — bam! — smacked his shoulder. The regular routine of embarrassment.

“Ouch”, a little blood spot on his finger — the needle went into his skin right through the fabric of the pants.

“Oh shit”, she almost fell down from the bed, but ran to the kitchen to get her fist-aid bag. Chan smirked; it wasn’t like he’d been in pain — worst things happened to him during dance practices — but to watch her nervously going through the bag, to see her look for everything she needed.

And there she was. Sitting on her knees in front of Chan, applying something on his tiny wound. A pinched expression on her face — as if it was his fault — and her touch, half aggressive, half gentle. And in this last half, Chan swore on everything he had, in this half of tenderness he could drown, voluntarily jump from the cliff just to lose himself in the soft silk of her feelings. It was always so difficult to read her emotions, no matter how hard he tried or what he said — it seemed impossible.

She never said anything either. The fact, that Chan caught her crying in his bed, startled him so much he couldn’t even bring it up. Sometimes he was convinced she wasn’t able to feel anything except for positive emotions; and what’s worse, even the good ones were expressed rarely. In the six years he’d known her, he kept asking himself, when did she ever speak about her feelings?

Something about her dad’s emotional unavailability becoming her trait, too, as she blurted out once. And that was it — no other explanation. She spoke in actions, Chris knew that too well; however, hearing something about her feelings, at least once, would be a great idea. But she never did. And whenever he got in trouble, she scolded him, drove her car, sighing annoyingly too often, and then treated his bruises and scratches on the couch; or let him fix his broken heart by crying in her embrace. Her words were awkward (to her), but to Chan, hearing her utter under her breath, “I’m here with you, and for you, and… And I’m just here. I’ll always be”, was the only thing he needed.

“But when she showed her feelings, when she cried into your pillow, with your hand on her waist — were you there? Did you tell her that?”

“That’s it”, she put a bandaid with small pictures of Iron Man on his fingertip and blew on the covered wound. “Shouldn’t hurt you anymore”.

“It didn’t”, Chan cleared his throat for some reason. And when she got up from the floor and sat down next to him on the bed, his throat was dry again.

She looked at him — so… Lovingly? He couldn’t quite read the glance; not because of the usual reasons, but ‘cause it was the first time he noticed it. He didn’t quite know what to do. Bang Chan, the chief manager in the Affection Department, what would he do?

The palm of his hand slowly landed on her cheek, moving her face closer to his. His nose brushed hers in a swift touch, lips leaving a peck on her forehead. If she was saying something, the sound of the heartbeat, drumming in his chest, deafened Chan completely.

Chan touched her forehead with his, eyes locked on her eyes, dazzling in the dim light of the bedroom. Were they always this peerless? Or was he just blind his entire life, his blurry vision cured by her shining?

“Thank you”, he whispered, still focused on her eyes and unsteady breathing.

“You palm is sweaty”, she mumbled under her breath, and he chuckled, expecting to hear this kind of nonsense from her.

Staring into the wall in front of him, Chan wiped a tear from his cheek.

“I have feelings for you”. And you’re saying it through a text? A fucking breakup text?

Maybe, just maybe, consider asking about his feelings too, huh?

Yeah, and what would he say?

Chan didn’t quite know. He couldn’t wrap his head around the strange tingling in his chest whenever you were near, whenever you were laughing at his lame jokes, whenever you played with his hair. Whenever you did fucking anything. He ignored the feeling, putting it into a cage deep inside of his heart. You were his best friend, after all, a person he confided in. Wouldn’t it be wrong to fall in love with you?

“Whenever you’re around, I just feel more alone”.

That’s the reason for crying? That was it this entire time? Did he really make you feel this way?

Too many thoughts were spinning in his head, and he wasn’t able to catch at least one by the tail — they were slipping away, only to circle around your name and face, and hands, and smile, and fingers intertwined with his, and cold feet attacking his warm ones under the covers, and… Only you.

To never call you? To stop seeing you? Did you really think he would listen to your commands?

Throwing whatever clothes he found on the floor, putting on mismatched socks and sneakers, he ran down the stairs, calling Lee Know simultaneously.

“You’re on your way, I hope”.

“Answer one question”.

“What’s with the voice? Are you jogging or something?”

“D’you think I’m in love with her?”

‘Her’? Minho knew right away. “You dumb fuck. Took you long enough”.

“It’s that obvious?”

Minho rubbed his eyes with extra annoyance at that moment. “If I see you two staring at each other and then denying it one more time, I swear to god, I will kill you both. Romeo and Juliet style. Shut up and come to the studio already”.

“I’m gon’ be late”. Chan knew exactly what Minho’s next words were — not that he was willing to listen to them.

Shit, he panted on the street, the car keys were on the kitchen table. Running back would be too long, Chan thought, so the taxi he jumped in should be perfect.

The windows were open, wind blowing in his face — and even the air outside was filled with your scent. Floral perfume, that always reminded him of late spring nights spent with you.

“You don’t mind if I change the route?”, the driver asked. “To overtake the traffic?”

“Yeah, no problem”.

Five minutes later they were on the empty highway, going round the city to get to the neighborhood you were living in. Chan ignored the driver’s occasional texting — not his first rodeo with such people. It’d be better if he didn’t, though.

The next thing Chan remembered was his head hitting the back of the passenger seat.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis

[writerscafehub]

𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚈: @fushic0re

ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ . 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐀:

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

        I’d say a 3.5. I’m proud of my work, but there’s always room to grow and improve. 

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

        I think my writing style focuses a lot on the complexity of the inner emotions the characters feel. I like to take a lot of time fleshing out their inner selves that way when there’s dialogue or they commit a specific act, readers are able to say to themselves “yea, this is very them”. All in all, I like a lot of emotion. 

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

        My fellow writers café members inspire me! Everyone has such different styles and ideas, it really makes me want to be more innovative. I don’t really have any specific muses, to be honest–the fanfiction fandom in general makes me want to write and see my ideas developed.

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

        “Take Me Into Your Arms, Siren’s Call” and “Dance In The Dark”. 

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

        Steve Rogers for sure is my easiest. I love that man with my entire being and have dissected him and my interpretation of him so many times. I find Geralt of Rivia a bit difficult to write, hence why there’s no work for him.

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

        There’s not really a who, more like a what–my emotional wounds. Writing is used as a tool for me to not only bring my ideas to life, but use them as vessels to work out these emotions and proverbially close that chapter of my life by turning them into something positive. 

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

        I have a very cute “Spy x Family” meets “The Incredibles” one shot for Miguel O’Hara in the works featuring Filipina!Reader, Gabriella O’Hara, and reader’s daughter hehe 

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

        I’m really gonna expose myself here…it was for Black Veil Brides LMAOOOO 

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

        GIRL (gender neutral); black cat gf x golden retriever bf, the mean one being soft for the sunshine one, enemies to lovers, reincarnation. 

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

        Mafia/mob boss. I have one singular wip with that trope and after that, I’m retiring it. Cannot stand it, no offense. 

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

        Definitely my demon! Lee Bodecker and ghost!Steve Rogers fics. Those were RIDES.

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

ENEMIES TO LOVERS, BLACK CAT GF x GOLDEN RETRIEVER BF, and THE GRUMPY ONE BEING SOFT FOR THE SUNSHINE ONE. I clearly have a preference. 

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

        Either bossanova, classical music, jazz, lo-fi, or a playlist I made specifically for whatever I’m writing.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

I don’t have a preference tbh. they’re both very impactful, it just depends on the plot in question. 

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

yES ALL THE TIME. especially for fluff pieces with family dynamics, I always wanna create little side drabbles in the style of “modern family” like they have their very own sitcom. 

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

writing for Geralt of Rivia. The deep lore for The Witcher seems like a lot of ground to cover. 

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I can’t remember anything specific, but my fic “Take Me Into Your Arms, Siren’s Call” received a good amount of super meaningful feedback from Filipino readers that meant a lot to me. They expressed how much it meant for them to be seen, especially in a fantasy-fairy tale like story that incorporated our culture.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Yes, lore building for “Take Me Into Your Arms, Siren’s Call”! I’ve never written anything in the fantasy genre, so that was definitely a challenge. It turned out amazing. I loved writing it and that fic is one that is near and dear to my heart. 

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

I’m a fucking baby and I can only have angst if it’s followed with fluff…..but I do love angst.

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

EEEEEE I currently have one OC for a re-write of my series called “Keeping Up With The Starks”. Her name is Camila Santos Stark, a Filipina-American who is the only daughter of Tony Stark. She’s a spoiled heiress but is definitely a no-nonsense woman who you do not want to underestimate. She’s described by others around her as the rational version of Tony–the snark is there, but so are a bunch of other characteristics that Tony doesn’t possess. Steve Rogers is her love interest. He thought she was a spoiled brat, but look who fell in love!

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Definitely “Take Me Into Your Arms, Siren’s Call” – it’s pure fantasy which sounds amazing. Plus, Namor! 

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

Eh, there’s nothing really interesting going on behind the scenes–I just write at night with a candle lit. 

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

        “I’m a beauty, I’m a beast, it defends on the feast” – “So Cool” by Dounia

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

        If writing frustrates you, that’s a sign for you to step away and take a break. If you initially started writing because you love it, continue to lead with love–don’t kill the joy.

[shadowwolfmemes]

AI is terrible for art and writing

Before I begin my rant, if you don't like this post and think it's too harsh, I don't give a rat's flying ass about it. I'm going to say what needs to be said, not what others want to hear. Let's get it!

First things first, I'm going to break down why using a soulless robot is a bad idea for making art. I see a lot of AI "artists" using AI art on Tumblr, and if I'm being honest, they all look like something a cat puked out on my fucking driveway and I don't mean it in a joking way.

I'm not sorry to say, but you can't consider yourselves artists if your so called art is auto generated by a machine. A literal robot can't feel the same emotions a human feels while creating an art post. If it's one way to get inspired, then I wouldn't really care too much since you're just using it as a way to expand your creativity.

But once you use completely rely on a bot and call it your own art style, then you gotta fucking go! Call me "judgmental" and "rude" if you want to, I'm just speaking on the behalf of the majority of people who genuinely think having AI as a replacement is fucking lazy. They ain't wrong when they say that because it's actually true.

When you look at my art, which is made in the current version of MS Paint for instance, it's not always the best looking. I'm going to admit that I'm a bit trashy at it, but at least it's honest because I still put actual effort in it verses what AI users do. (They just type in a few words and let the machine do it. Like, you call that "effort"? I call that bullshit.)

Even when I'm too lazy to put in high quality effort on my digital art, I'll still get credited for originality because I'm the one who came up with it in the first place. Besides, using AI and calling yourself an artist is totally unfair and insulting to real artists, it's almost like a metaphorical slap in the face for them. (It's almost like me using pre-recorded SFX loops on Soundation and calling it an actual "song".)

Now, I'm not going to spend this entire rant based on fake art, I'm going to be talking about AI writers, too. People who use AI for writing stories, don't think I don't see you in the far back! Y'all not off the hook either!

Using AI to write fanfictions for you is more lazy than asking ChatGPT to solve a simple math equation. The readers would be able to tell if it's made by a robot just by looking at it because like I previously said, robots don't have souls or emotions.

I know I made a post covering over AI writing fanfictions and I'll definitely say it again because it just takes the fun out of reading someone's "work" if they're not willing to write it themselves.

Some might say "If you don't like it, don't read it then." I might as well not because if someone is not willing to be creative and put actual efforts into their fanfictions, why should ANYONE be bothered to read it?

And that goes for AI artists, too. If you're not bothered to create actual art by yourself, then don't bother being an artist, therefore do NOT call yourself an artist.

Don't want to write? = Not a writer

Don't want to make art? = Not an artist

Let this advice sink in for all beginners who are considering using AI for art.

(P.S: If some of y'all get hurt by this, not my problem. This is nothing, but the truth. Get over it...)

[ohbother2]

hi! so like, i might try writing smut soon enough (because why the hell not amirite?) so like, is there any advice you could give me? like DOs and DONTs, tools that could be useful to avoid orthographic errors etc etc (im used to using chat GPT to look at my horribly, horribly written texts and correct them, but i've got a feeling it will straight up censor it, and english's not my first language, so anything that would make my dirty dirty texts into dirty clean text would be dope)

Hi!

I'm sorry but because you're an ageless blog I'm not going to give actual smut-writing advice, but ig it's okay to give general writing advice?

Just a reminder to everyone, if you're a minor please do not interact with me or my posts!

In all honesty I don't really know what I even do when I write, the words just sort of appear and I'm like 'yep, that works', but that's not the most useful advice, lol

I envision the story I want to read, and then I write it how I want to read it. I hope that makes sense

I guess my main advice would be to find your own niche, like, are you a dialogue or an 'action' based writer? Ofc it's good to be good at both but people have their own strong suits. For me, for example, I'm much better at descriptive writing than dialogue so that's what I focus most of my writing around

People also have their own unique styles and formatting to their writing - I feel as though mine is pretty distinctive with certain types of vocabulary and paragraph spacing/grammar/etc - so I guess it would be good to find a style that works good for you! For example, don't stick to lengthy paragraphs of immense detail if that doesn't come naturally to you, etc

My absolute top priority when writing is to not tell the readers what's going on, but to show it. Sometimes 'They felt X/Y/Z' is a useful tool for emphasising a particular point, but sometimes it detracts from the writing overall.

As an example: 'He felt as if his heart was going to burst from his chest...' (This can be good when used in the right moments, but if that's the only descriptor the writing loses a bit of life to it)

Compared to: 'His heart hammered painfully against his taut ribs as he gasped uselessly for breath...' (This is showing rather than just simply telling, and is how I personally prefer to write a majority of the time)

It's also important not to repeat yourself unnecessarily - it can be good to repeat when you're really trying to emphasise a point, but sometimes writing can stagnate and become less engaging? It's very difficult to find the right balance but it makes a world of difference to a piece of text

For dialogue (arguably my weakest skill) the best piece of advice is that you cannot write accurately how people in real life talk. When we talk we mostly fill out thoughts with nonsense and fluff out the main point - you can't write this because the readers will become disengaged. There's an important balance to find between being too formal for speech, maintaining the main point of the conversation, and ensuring the characters still sound like themselves. I tend to really try and put myself in the characters heads, think about what they'd actually say, and then 'translate' it into a written format that works whilst keeping that characters traits.

The way I 'learnt' to write was through reading, and I'd really recommend you read in your desired writing language (I'm guessing English from your ask) to see the typical structures and vocabulary of that language when written down. Direct translations don't always work, especially with literature, because there are phrases and sayings and common slights-of-tongue that are language specific, so I think it's really useful to get used to that language in its own written form, yk?

I forgot!! But it's also important not to tell your readers everything. Let them fill some gaps in on their own - they don't need to be told how a line of dialogue was said if it's obvious in the speech and context, and they don't always need to know how a character moved across a room or what their hands are doing 100% of the time. Sometimes the best parts of stories are the bits that go unsaid :)

Sorry, this is rambling and probably not very useful, but I've never given writing advice before.

Writing really is all down to the author finding their own 'voice' within their texts, and I'm sure you're writing will be great!!! I hope this helps! :))

[colorful-dragon97]

You guys don’t understand how much Jazzfordshire’s stories mean to me (or maybe you do)

(TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of h0mophobia)

I don’t usually get really sappy with writers and the stories they write but I just finished Jazzfordshire’s 70′s AU (part 2).  Istg that the first part of that AU is the story i read the most out of all the Supercorp fanfics I read (and considering SC fanfics is the only type of literature I consume, that’s saying a lot). I always found it comforting, but even if the first part is from Kara’s POV, the part that I connect with the most is Lena’s. She is a lesbian, she knows it, she feels what she feels but is painfully aware that she can’t freely express herself, she can’t open up to anyone bc they might insult her or treat her as a “something” instead of a “someone”.

I used to identify as a lesbian. For five years of my life, I was out to myself, but deadly afraid of living in the outside world. My friends knew and some of them were queer themselves, but I still felt that loneliness inside me.

Even though on this day and age I no longer identify as such, all those things that Lena feels in this story… is just so painfully relatable.

When I started thinking about this, I thought about other stories by this lovely author and realized that, in some of them, the relationship between Lena and Lillian is kinda the same to the one i had with my mother.

Lillian is not supportive of her daughter’s sexuality. But it’s not like she kicks her out or does something more “grotesque”, she is just described as distant… someone who, at the tiniest little show of Lena’s preference for women, she makes not-so-subtle comments about how NOT ok she’s with the fact that Lena is a lesbian. So as a result of that, Lena is deadly afraid of being “obviously” queer, out in the open.

And that, my friend, is EXACTLY what I needed to read when I was younger.

“Isn’t that counterproductive? If you are sad about your relationship with your sexuality, you shouldn’t read homophobic stuff… right?”

Good question, but while I do needed an “everything is going to be ok” type of story, I also needed a story that described that awkward and painful relationship between a mother and her queer daughter. That type of relationship where your mom is not supportive, but she is also not kicking you out or being physically ab*sive. This is because the only realities shown to me by the media at that time were parents being extremely supportive, awfully ab*sive or they will just kick you out. So, even though I used to feel awful with myself because of my mom’s unsupportive behavior, what used to make me feel significantly worse was the guilt of feeling depressed when I should be thankful that she responded this way bc “it could’ve been worse, she didn’t kick me out.”

(That last paragraph was me describing how I felt back in the day. Jazz, as far as I’ve read of her repertoire, doesn’t dwell on the deeper effect that THAT kind of relationship has on you as the queer daughter.)

So, I really needed my feelings to be validated by anyone or anything. And I also needed to see that I deserve to be supported and comforted whenever I felt a sad about my mother’s behavior.

That support and comfort is seen on the way Kara interacts with Lena. In some fanfics like the Ice Skating AU, Lena has a pretty big storyline regarding her sexuality. Every time she feels like she is showing a bit too much gayness or hears the voice of Lilian in her mind shaming her, Kara is like “it’s ok, I’m right here and I love you”.

She is not telling her to get over it, she is not telling her how to fix it, she is just accompanying her through it.

And that is another thing i needed, that is exactly what i craved as a teenager. I needed someone there… just there… to hug me through it.

But the matter of the fact is that I’m finding this stories years later and while my relationship w my mom is basically the same, my sexuality and self perception have changed. I’m now a bi guy.

But now reading these stories, feels like it’s healing my inner child. Feels like a hug for the 14 y/o me that was so effing sad and so effing alone.

@jazzfordshire ‘s stories are dear to my heart and are helping the little teen in me, feel seen and comforted.

So, in case you are reading this, thank you so much. Your stories are beautiful and I hope you continue writing ❤️

[weareallkenough]

I really do think it's important for people who consider themselves Writers to find something creative to do that isn't just putting words on a page because there are always going to be times you can't write. You're going to have writer's block, life is going to get in the way. You could write what you at the time consider your magnum opus and then end up burned out and unable to put a word on page for a stretch of time. And if your entire sense of (creative) self depends on you writing then you're going to feel terrible about yourself as a person when that happens.

Try out other creative hobbies (make a sweater! Learn rug hooking! Make art out of twigs in your backyard!) so you have a creative outlet and so you can still Make A Thing even when you can't write.

I go through phases of life where I don't Write, and most people I know who write go through the same thing. I'm currently in a Not Writing phase of life. Before I was Not Writing I wrote two gargantuan (for me) fics and it felt good. Before I wrote those I was Not Writing and during that time I was able to focus on my crocheting and I also tried out several new crafts. And before that I was writing multiple small fics all the time.

Sometimes my Not Writing hasn't had anything to do with this cycle of Writing-Not Writing. Sometimes life just had me doing so much stuff I didn't have time to string two thoughts together. But I did have time to fold a little paper or do a quick stick figure doodle and no, these were not masterpieces and I am capable of making better things, but at the time that was all I had time to do. And it felt good to use my creativity just a little bit.

I am currently Not Writing but that leaves me time to crochet and paint (badly! but I enjoy it) and do what I call "writing light" where I play roleplay games with friends and only have to focus on one aspect of writing at a time. I write Just Plot (make murder mysteries) or Just Worldbuilding (make DnD one shots) or Just Character (I make a character and show up to somebody else's game). And I'm satisfied with this. I get a high level of joy from being able to be creative while not writing. In the past I would just beat myself up for not being able to write. I consider myself a Writer so if I wasn't Writing I was failing. But I'm not a writer because I'm constantly writing. I'm a writer because I enjoy writing and telling stories and examining the human condition through things like anime fanfiction. But it's unrealistic to think you're going to be able to do only one thing for your entire life (unless maybe you have generational wealth and don't have to worry about real life like the rest of us), so you may as well embrace the cycles of life. The world is going to beat you up so much so don't help it by beating yourself up too. Go around the wall instead of just hitting your head against it over and over.

I got the idea the other day about a retired hero and a young wannabe hero, about how young people always think they have the weight of the world on their shoulders and must bear this burden alone. And it's not ready to be written just yet, or maybe I'm not ready to write it just yet, but it's going to be written eventually. And I don't think that could happen in a world where I forced myself to I tried to force my way through when I was blocked.

[the-one-who-lambs]

THANK YOU FOR YOUR BEAUTIFUL WRITING, it's been cool to see you bring in new hobbies too and you're growing fast. What inspired you to try art?

Okay two real answers

1. Here's a bit of a secret motivation that's been at the forefront of my mind this entire time: Because I Need to get back at the people who have drawn fanart for my fics so I can counter with more fanart. (Much of the counterattacks have been poetry, but still!) I haven't done this much yet, mostly because I am trying to improve so that it will Look Good and I can do y'all's designs and AUs justice. But I also realize that mindset is a trap because I'll keep pushing back the goalposts about what I think is "good enough" to be gifted-- actually, this was my motivation to ask for y'all's lamb submissions for that one stream a few weeks ago and start drawing them! It was nerve-wracking, and I still have many to finish, but it's been really fun so far. And everyone has been super sweet and encouraging when I've shown them my drawings of their lambs, even with the mistakes I make in the learning process. (Should've expected that from this community, honestly. In my experience, everyone just seems incredibly uplifting!) Anyway, If I don't return the love I am shown tenfold I will collapse.

2. Writing has become rather second-nature to me. I'm always striving to improve my writing, and challenge myself to explore different styles and techniques to tell the stories I'm crafting, but I feel like I'm getting to be a relatively advanced writer (I hope that doesn't sound vain). With that said, I wanted to go through the process of being a beginner at something again, to have a novel outlet to turn to when one creative medium isn't scratching the brain right, and to expand my skillset! Having quite a few friends who have made digital (or traditional!) art, many of whom have become incredibly skilled themselves, got me interested in giving it a shot. It's been frustrating for sure, but ultimately, struggling with something new is enthralling. The difference in my writing abilities and my drawing abilities is stark but that's ok because overall?? It's just fucking FUN. It's ok that my art isn't very polished yet and that I don't have a ton of technical skills.

"keep practicing and have fun" is the main advice that has stuck with me!

[tragedybunny]

💕Writing Interview Tag Game💕

Another thing I am massively late at, thanks for the tag @snowfolly @vixstarria and @pursuitseternal

When did you start writing? So - I've been writing in my head since I was a child. But I did some weird short stories in middle school and started writing fanfic in high school. I've been writing on and off since then.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write? I love horror and paranormal stuff but I don't tend to write much of it.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often? I think she's a bit divisive, but I've always loved Anne Rice, the way she writes her worlds just swallows me up.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space? So I end up writing in bed, a lot more than I should. On my phone these days and not in a notebook. Other than that, on my couch with my laptop. And I recently got a small second hand desk for another room away from my desktop because apparently that space is too distracting. But I have lots of fairy lights and candles and just make it a soft vibe.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse? Driving around to the right music. The only good thing for my commute is the time to just daydream about things with the right music.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you? Steadfast love even in adversity. Growing together. Loving someone the way they are. None of these surprise me.

What is your reason for writing? I fall in love with the characters and the story I want to tell and feel it must be told.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating? Any comment. There's been a real decline lately.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers? I want to be someone they want to approach and talk about the stories and characters with.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer? I think I'm very good at evoking feelings in my readers.

How do you feel about your own writing? I think I'm pretty good most of the time.

When you write, are you influenced by what others enjoy might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both? Generally, because ADHD can make it hard to focus, I go with what I'm inspired to write. Usually if I need to rework because it isn't flowing well or whatever, that's a different thing, but I don't usually worry to much about the ideas themselves.

I am very late an no idea who to tag so consider yourself tagged if you want to.

[hacked-by-jake]

Imma done with duskwood lmao 😂 Too long waiting, I wrote my own ending and now I lost interest in duskwood xD I know they are a small group of developers but they must realize their fandom is slowly dying :( It's sad but it is the truth 🥺 I see so many duskwood writer going quiet or writing OG works....

Well, that's very sad. But I don't think the fandom is dying. Not at all. First of all, it's January, trust me when I tell you, it's always very quiet in January. It's a stressful time. While December for example is more way more active. People have more time and winter makes more people to stay at home etc. It's not unusual for this time. Nevertheless, I do understand a bit what you mean. Of course we're waiting for Moonvale for a longer time now, but I think it's understandable. At least, I was expecting a long time for it to come out.

And I'm pretty sure they're aware of it... I see enough people starting to hate on them, leaving mean comments on Instagram etc. They know we're all waiting and they also know people become more and more inpatient. And I guess it's for them as hard as it is for us. I don't know what is going on there at Everbyte, but I'm very sure if they could they would work faster. But I think they already use every possible second to work on it. I mean, for them it's their income, their way to earn money, I don’t think they can just put Moonvale aside and chill, haha. Maybe they even have a second job, I don’t know, we don't know about the circumstances. I'm repeating myself, but I am convinced that this situation is difficult for Everbyte as well. And I don’t think they themselves expected it to take that long.

Still, I understand what you’re saying and how you mean it, but now, I think losing interest in things is normal. It happens all the time. And especially since Duskwood has been finished for quite some time now, the hype disappears at some point, but with luck it comes back. I mean, have you ever watched a movie you really liked but then you had to wait 3 or 4 or even more years for the second part? You’re not as excited about the movie every single day as you were the first time. You wait, maybe you lose interest in time, as I said, it’s normal. When the film is released, when it is finally ready, the joy often comes back. The movie was released and then you can decide if you want to watch it anyway, if it is worth trying, or if you are not interested anymore. Both is possible. Of course it's sad if you're absolutely done with it but it's simply normal and I don't think you can do anything about it.

And whether there is a connection between Moonvale and the more frequent occurrence of original works that I can not judge. I rather think it's simply because it's way easier to reach people with writing fanfiction. So, you can write fanfiction, write things you enjoy a lot and then you're interested in writing something made by yourself from top to bottom. You already reached some people so if you're lucky, maybe they will also be interested in an original work. I know many writers who simply never dared to publish original stories. But if one persons starts to publish their work other might get the missing courage to do it as well.

And yes, it’s also true that many Duskwood writers don’t post that much anymore. Of course, it will also be due to the fact that everyone’s joy and the excitement decreases a little after a while. Just like it happened with you. And that's okay as well. But I can also tell you that some people don’t read as many Duskwood fanfictions as before, which can be very demotivating for writer. But it’s also that the time we live in is nothing but hectic and exhausting. So much is going on. Everyone has so much stress. Health problems became much more present. Time is simply the enemy for many, the exhaustion does not allow people to write because something else is always going on. But in every other fandom it is no different, absolutely not. But because the Duskwood fandom is so much smaller it just stands out much faster. It's much more visible.

It's just a hard time in general. :/

Please don’t get my words wrong. I don't want to sound mean or rude or anything. Really. And I do understand what you mean and sometimes I even feel similar. It's a pity you're feeling this way by now but as I said, it's nothing unusual. It's sad when you lose things that used to bring you happiness but I think you can do nothing about it. I just hope at some point your excitement will be back and maybe you're even going to play Moonvale. I think it is not good to force yourself to like something if you have really lost interest. And instead of Duskwood and moonvale, I hope you find something else to enjoy. 💚

Still, thank you a lot for sending this ask and especially for sharing your thoughts with me/us. It means a lot to me. And I hope the 'situation' will improve for you again. I hope you're doing good so far. Please take always care of yourself and stay healthy and safe. Have a good day/evening/night. 💚💚