#Go read the stuff you wrote without being mean to yourself for once!

[thestrangesun]

I know there's probably enough posts on here about this, but like, reading the stuff you wrote can be so awesome if you can get over the embarrassment and judgement toward yourself. Like, when you go from seeing it as poorly crafted and something to fix to seeing it as a work of art that someone made and loved, it can be really nice to read.

Occasionally I'll make myself go back and read an old chapter without nitpicking everything and of course I enjoy it. I wrote it so I used the words and rhythm that I enjoy.

[drdemonprince]

Read the cop post you reblogged. Apologies if I’m being too literal. I’ve had ppl break into my house before. What am I supposed to do in that situation? Shoot the person? Let them shoot me? Genuinely asking for an alternative bc I don’t want to call the cops ever. It just feels like it’s often ppl who don’t live in areas with higher crime who post stuff like that and it feels out of touch with the reality some are living in. Most ppl in my neighborhood don’t want to abolish the police. It’s white liberals, leftists, anarchists who get to live that out more. Idk if this makes sense, but would love to hear others thoughts.

I have also had people break into my home, I've heard drills run on my block multiple times in just the past year, I've witnessed multiple shootings, violent domestic assault outside my home, etc. I also live in a racially diverse area and speak regularly with my neighbors and yeah, a 70-year-old Black grandmother in Chicago is far more likely to be a pro-cop Trump supporter than she is to be a radical anarchist. Your average person of any identity group is unlikely to be an abolitionist or anarchist... because those are still extremely fringe political positions in this world. Now it is also experience that the majority of actually committed abolitionists are Black & brown people, but that doesn't mean a majority of people from those identity groups in general are abolitionists at all. The white leftie abolitionists...mostly aren't actually abolitionists in practice from all that I've seen. Give them a roommate who doesn't pay the bills and has a mental health episode and they'll wield the tools of the state just as readily as anybody.

And that kinda brings me to one of my questions. Has calling the cops worked for you when you have had to deal with a home invasion, robbery, attack, etc? I just mentioned this in another post, but in my case *threatening* to call the cops has helped sometimes. The existence of the police state as a threat did help keep my stalker from going further when he broke into my apartment. But when a person (especially a person in a non-wealthy, majority-nonwhite area) calls the cops, how often do they show up soon enough to be helpful? How often do they confuse the attacker and the victim? How often do they blame the victim and refuse to file a report? How often do they attack or kill the wrong person? How often does their presence escalate things and cause people to panic, causing more violence?

I'm not trying to be a little shit here, I know that the answer is not "100% of the time". Sometimes, in the present world, a person is overpowered and in danger and they have no support network around them and they call the cops and the sirens or the sight of big dudes with guns scares their attacker away. I have, once or twice, witnessed some version of that too. It didn't do anything to get the victim away from their abuser or prevent harm from happening in the long term, but it did cause people to scatter.

Of course the long term abolitionist answer is that we need community networks of support to keep one another safe, to prevent crimes motivated by need, to deescalate conflict, and maybe even to secure justice and safety by scaring abusers and rapists etc off. In the absence of those things formally existing, I think we should all do what we can to build those networks of support in our communities, and thinking about how we can address problems without using the police. I wrote about some examples of that I witnessed and lived through here:

I don't think there are many great options right now if a person is attacked. I know that I minimize my involvement with the police as much as I humanly can. Again, only you can decide for yourself what you believe, what you can do, what you need, what you think is right.

[supernovafics]

hiiii i just read your entire i’ll be there for you universe and I’M OBSESSED❤️❤️ Friends to lovers is my favourite trope ever and I love how you wrote a cute slow burn without characters being toxic and mean towards each other bc that happens a lot!

I was wondering how would their parents react to them being together?? And when do they decide to tell their parents, and how it goes down? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to write it but I thought it might be cute!🌸🌸

𝐌𝐔��𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, implied smut, very slight parent drama

summary: in which your parents finally find out that you and steve are dating 

author's note: thanks for the request! (also for @hippiefairy02 since you requested basically the same thing like a week ago lol). i didn’t really know how to end this one so it kinda just ends lol<3 enjoy though<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring 1986

The movie became long forgotten after only the first twenty minutes, which was somewhat of a routine at this point. It was a good thing that you both had seen this one already. 

If you were to look back at who started everything this time around you’d toss the blame onto Steve for initiating the first kiss, but he’d put the blame on you for settling yourself close into his side and giving him a “certain look.”

You were far from thinking about who started what, though, because all you could focus on was the feel of Steve settled on top of you and his mouth against yours. 

Your hands started traveling underneath his plain white t-shirt and one of his took hold of your hip, teasingly slipping a finger or two beneath the waistband of your small pajama shorts. Your legs were tangled with his in a way that was a bit awkward because the couch was way too small to do anything completely comfortably, but you two were okay with making it work for the time being. 

You maneuvered a bit, attempting to push up so that your head could find the pillow that was leaning against the arm of the couch, and the abrupt movement made your forehead bump his.

It didn’t even hurt, but Steve still pulled back and looked at you concerned. “You okay?”

You nodded as you tilted your head up a bit to press a quick kiss against his nose. “I’m fine. You okay?”

“‘M good.” He nodded too and then slotted his lips against yours again.  

You were pulling away after only a second. “Wait, let’s switch. I feel like I’m gonna accidentally knee you or something.”

“Or we can just go to one of our rooms,” He suggested as his lips found your neck, which immediately made your eyes slip shut and you had to bite your lip to hold back the contented sigh that you wanted to let out. 

You almost said yes to Steve’s words, it would’ve been so easy to say yes, but you were trying to keep your thinking somewhat rational, so you shook your head instead. “If we do that, we’re not gonna come out for the rest of the night. And we said that we’d at least try to study for the test we have on Thursday once the movie’s over.”

“The movie we’re not watching,” He mumbled against your neck. 

“Still counts,” You said, lightly pushing him away, and he conceded as you shifted things around so that you were on top of him, settled nicely in his lap with your legs on either side of him. “See? Much better.” 

Before he could potentially say anything in response, you pushed a hand through his hair and leaned down to kiss him. His fingers started teasingly playing with the hem of your t-shirt before simply finding a home on your hips and squeezing you there. 

It was almost too obvious what should’ve happened next and both of you could feel the energy shifting into something a bit more heated, more needy. You would’ve lifted from his lap for a second so that he could slide down his sweatpants and boxers, and then you’d simply pull your underwear and shorts to the side because it would’ve been too much work to fully shimmy out of them. 

But then the phone started ringing in the kitchen and everything that felt like it was right on the verge of happening was pushed out of the window.  

You detached your mouth from Steve’s and sat up. “I’ll get it.”

He let out a groan, head falling back against the throw pillow and hands still on your hips. “Don’t.”

“We have six needy kids and a Robin, I think we have to answer it.”  

“Sadly, that makes sense,” His grip on you loosened and you finally maneuvered off of him after pressing a quick kiss against his forehead. 

You went to the kitchen, where the phone was, and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hi,” It was easy to decipher your mom’s voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing Saturday?”

It wasn’t surprising to you that your mom completely skipped past any sort of small talk; the “How are you’s” and “How’ve you been’s.” She always got straight to the point. 

“Me and Steve are gonna be out of town this weekend,” You answered. “I planned this whole date thing and we leave Friday night.” 

It was completely accidental; so accidental that at first, you didn’t even register what you had just told her.

“You and Steve are what?” 

“We’re gonna be in Chicago this weekend for—” You stopped abruptly, finally realizing what you said before. “Oh. Oh, yeah, um, we’re dating.” 

Her gasp was immediate. “Oh my God.”

You couldn’t decipher what that reaction was. She sounded surprised, definitely, but you couldn’t tell if it was a happy kind of surprise or upset.

“How long has it been?”

“A few months.” You shut your eyes then, bracing yourself for what you knew was about to be nothing short of an interrogation.

“What? Why haven’t you told us sooner?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t like either you or Steve were planning on keeping it from your parents forever, it had just never come up in the handful of conversations you’d had with them over the last few months. 

“It’s just, I don’t know. It hadn’t come up yet,” You ultimately answered. “And plus, you never really cared that much about my other relationships.”

“Sure, but Steve’s completely different. This is great!” She told you, and you inwardly sighed in relief that she was happy about the news; even though you were certain that you wouldn’t have cared about having her “approval” either way. “Does Christine know?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna call her right now,” Your mom told you, and you were actually perfectly okay with her ending the call with you right then to go call Steve’s mom instead. “Oh, this is so great!”

She was hanging up before you could say anything else and you were sighing as you placed the phone back on the hook.

“I’m sorry,” You told Steve as you joined him back on the couch. 

He looked at you, confused. “What happened?”

“I accidentally just told my mom that we’re dating, and now she’s calling your mom to tell her too.”  

“Oh, okay, that’s not that bad,” He shrugged. “I guess it had to happen eventually.”

“Yes, but I was kinda hoping that that day would be years from now. Like, when we sent out wedding invitations or something.” 

In your head, telling your friends about you and Steve was one thing, but telling your parents was something entirely different. Your friends were heavily involved in your life, and you knew that you couldn’t keep it from them forever because of that; and then it eventually just felt right to finally be honest about it, anyway. 

Telling your parents, on the other hand, was the farthest thing from your mind. 

“They would probably kill us if we did that. Especially our moms because you know that they’re gonna wanna be involved in the whole thing,” Steve told you, and you knew he was right. 

There were some few and far in-between moments where your parents would switch and pretend to be real parents that were actually involved in their kid’s life. Usually, it only happened during the holidays; Christmases spent pretending that you were a happy and normal family or Thanksgivings that were used to prove the same thing. In a way, it made sense for this news to warrant that same kind of treatment.

You groaned as you leaned further into Steve. “I hate that you’re right.”

Your mom was calling back barely twenty minutes later, right as the two of you were in the middle picking up where you had left off before the first call. Steve answered that time, pulling his sweatpants back up and heading over to the kitchen, and you slipped your shirt back over your head.

“Oh, um, yeah, that’s fine. That night is good,” You heard him say. “We’ll be there.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at whatever he was agreeing to right then.  

He hung up a few moments later and gave you an apologetic look. “Okay, now I’m the one that needs to say sorry.”

“What happened?”

“It was your mom,” Steve started as he sat next to you again. “She said she talked to my mom and they’re both really happy about us dating. And they decided that they wanna have a “celebratory dinner” kind of thing with us.”

“No.”

Steve nodded. “It’s gonna be at your parent’s house on Thursday since she knows that we’re going to Chicago for the weekend. I couldn’t think of an excuse on the spot, so I was just agreeing.”

“Oh, God. I feel like this is gonna be like Thanksgiving all over again.”

“Hopefully the dessert is better this time around,” He said, attempting to lighten the mood, and you let out a laugh. 

“If not, then we will definitely be ending the night at Third Street,” You told him and he nodded in agreement before pulling you into his lap. 

“Can we please go to my room?” He asked, arms circling around you. “I feel like the couch is cursed.”

You smiled, lips finding his for a brief second. “Okay, yes, I’ll allow it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This night didn’t feel anything like the Thanksgiving dinner that you and Steve had been forced to have all those months ago; at least, not at first. During that night, your parents had gone on and on about their ski trip that was coming up and there were barely any moments where the conversation was focused on you and Steve. 

Now things were different because all they cared about was talking about you two, which did make sense given the reasoning for the dinner. But still, you knew your parents, and this amount of excited fanfare surrounding the two of you felt entirely unexpected. 

Your dad was jokingly giving his “stamp of approval” for the relationship, and Steve’s dad was saying something about how you’d always been a good influence on Steve. And then your moms went on tangent after tangent going down memory lane and telling stories about you and Steve as kids. 

“I’d been hoping this would happen ever since the cruise,” Christine said, a happy smile on her face. “You two were practically attached at the hip the entire time, and that still hasn’t changed.” 

“Yes, you guys were always so cute together. Oh, and remember when you took each other to your proms? I think I still have the pictures somewhere,” Your mom said, smiling happily as well, and you honestly wouldn’t have even minded if she brought out the pictures. 

Eventually, though, things shifted, and toward the end of dinner, the conversation moved away from you and Steve. Instead, your parents started reminiscing about old moments from their collective friendship that didn’t involve you and Steve at all. This made sense to you; you knew that it could only be a matter of time before they finally started talking about themselves.   

With the topic of you and Steve long forgotten, you two slipped away from the table, no one noticing or stopping you, and retreated to your old bedroom that was just down the hall. 

You sat at the foot of your old bed and watched as Steve simply walked around, taking a look at the things that you had decided to leave behind and not bring along to the apartment. 

You kicked your shoes off and crossed your legs under you. “Tonight actually hasn’t been completely unbearable.” 

“Yeah, weirdly, it hasn’t,” Steve agreed as he walked over to you and leaned down to press a kiss against the top of your head. “There’s no dessert though, so we’ll have to go to Third Street.”

“Do you think they’d notice if we slipped out of my window right now?” 

He laughed a bit. “Fifty-fifty shot.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t mind taking those odds,” You said, smiling up at him. 

“I would say okay, but I think I have to be the reasonable one here and say that we should just walk out the front door like normal people.”

His words only made you smile wider because usually, it was you who would say the logical thing to do in situations.

“We’ve swapped roles tonight,” You said as you stood up and put your shoes back on. “I think you do a great job as the reasonable one.” 

“I don’t like it. You can have that job back after tonight,” He told you, smiling as his hand found yours.

You only nodded as you and he headed out of your bedroom. Your parents were still at the dining table, laughing about something that you didn’t hear. 

“Hey, we’re gonna head out. We have to wake up early tomorrow, so yeah,” You said, pulling their attention onto you and Steve. It was a lie, but it felt like it would be a plausible enough excuse. “Thanks for tonight.” 

“Yeah, it was great,” Steve agreed with a quick nod. 

A slew of “Goodnight’s” and “Drive safe’s” came from your parents, which you two nodded and smiled at before exiting your house. 

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sat in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. 

The night hadn’t been horrible, you’d experienced much worse dinners with your parents. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t glad that this one was over. 

“So, are we gonna be basic tonight and do milkshakes, or have whatever pie Mary made for the night?” You asked as you played with the radio and then left it on a station that you’d probably end up changing in a minute or two. 

Steve took a quick glance at you and smiled. “If she made apple, then I think the answer is obvious.”

“Very true,” You nodded and smiled back at him. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[seongminiz]

— after hours (k.mh)

. . ? office sex with minhee ! – smut / minors dni ; 1071 words

cw fem!reader , power imbalance , kinda dubcon , dumbification (lots of it) , degradation (mixed in with praise💔) , spit - lots of spit actually , unprotected sex , semi-pulic sex/slight exhibitionism , creampie , crying , overstimulation , i think that's all im not sure

not proof read srry i wrote half of this one-handed (what) (its a joke) (maybe) !! this is dedicated to my lovely lovely precious @b1mbodoll who helped with a lottt of ideas n deserves almost as much credit as me for this post ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

!!! posting from mobile , i'll go back to fix the colors and formatting once i can use my pc again !

you're the newest hire in the office , and with this being your first 'proper' job you can't help being all anxious and it brings you to keep messing up ..

minhee who is in charge of training/supervising you and gets so frustrated bc you're so clumsy, the fear of messing up making you mess up even more, and it seems like you can't do anything without his help

minhee who has also slowly developed a crush (more like .. unhealthy obsession but you didn't hear that from me) for you because he's been thinking you're pretty and cute since day one .... but he still intends on doing his job properly, or at least tries to – he asks you to stay back overtime so you can have a talk in his office, so he can soften the blow of the scolding you're about to get by not talking to you in front of all your coworkers.

he'll talk to you about your shortcomings, scare you into being a little less of a airhead, help you catching up with the tasks you couldn't complete during office hours, and call it a day.

except all of minhee's plans fly out the window the moment you step through the door of his office and you're already apologizing before he has the chance to speak, all teary eyed and with shaky hands, avoiding his eyes and trying to explain that you know you're being a burden to the rest of your coworkers, especially to him.. he finds you even cuter than usual kind of pathetic too, sure, but so so adorable and a little lost .. clearly so reliant on him.

seeing you like this brings out a new urge in minhee. he wants to ruin you.

but the other side of him, the one that knows just how reliant you are on his guidance, how much you look up to him despite it only having been a few days since you started working there, the part of him that enjoys all of that, knows he can't be straight up mean to you ,,

he doesn't know with what self control, but minhee keeps going as if nothing is wrong, as if seeing you on the verge of tears didn't make him slightly hard. he lists what you have to improve on and stuff like that, until his tone shifts into something more condescending and he starts slipping some 'but it's so hard for you to think about so many things at the same time, right?' in between his otherwise totally normal advice ....

and in your mental state, so vulnerable and confused, you can't be blamed when you agree, when words start spilling out along with the tears and you admit that yes, it's so hard to keep track of everything, sometimes you just wish you could shut your brain off.

'more than it already is?'

the question catches you off guard, and you find yourself nodding in agreement before you have completely processed his words.

everything after that passes in a blur, you're not sure of when you started kissing minhee – or did he kiss you? when did you even get so close to him? or when he slightly lifts your skirt as he pushes you to sit on his desk, or when he unbuttons your shirt and pulls down your bra so your tits are spilling out and he can bite and lick them until they're sore and sensitive.

you're not sure of anything.

next thing you know, minhee is sitting in his office chair, and you're right above him, riding him as tears stream down your face, mouthing at his neck and drooling all over the collar of his shirt.

you don't have the energy to protest when minhee calls you his 'poor, stupid, little puppy that can't do anything without him' ... you can't, knowing deep down that he's right, that you're better off being his messy cockslut than doing anything else. you're really not sure of what you could do instead.

minhee's cock reaches so deep, hitting all the right spots, it's like your brain is leaking out of your cunt, especially when his tip brushes right against your cervix as his fingers are rubbing your clit. you're too fucked out to actually say anything, you mumble something about how 'it feel so good... 'm goin to cum-' as spit drips down your chin and your legs shake.

'you've already came, silly,' minhee chuckles 'fucked you so good you can't even tell when you're cumming now?'

you sniffle and try to hold back your moans as minhee picks up his pace again, reminding you he hasn't cum yet – and he needs to, needs to fill you up and make you all messy with his cum.

'poor baby,' minhee coos, brushing your hair out of your face, all sticky with tears, and sweat, and probably some of your cum that got on his fingers too. 'so needy you're letting me fuck you in my office, when you know there's a cctv camera right there, in the corner.'

thruth is, you don't. or at least, you didn't know until that moment, and of course minhee knows that too. a weak 'what?' leaves your lips, but your confusion and attention are quickly derailed as minhee's hips buck up into you.

once again, you nod without fully knowing what he's saying, so desperate to get his approval..

you can't help but whine louder the harsher minhee's thrusts get, it's too much too fast, and you're straight up sobbing by the time you feel the first spurt of minhee's cum, followed by many others. there's so much of it, you feel so full, proof of it is the few white drops trickling down your thigh.

minhee shushes you sweetly as you continue sobbing into his shoulder, your hands gripping his now ruined shirt as you can't help but still grind your hips into his, the squelching, wet sounds of his cum and yours mixed and stirring inside of you sending antoher wave of arousal through your body.

you're out of it again, your eyes feeling heavier than before as minhee runs his fingers through your hair with the hand that isn't busy still stimulating your clit.

he rips another orgasm out of you, a quiet, almost imperceptible one, before you doze off as you hear minhee say 'it's okay, you don't have to worry about anything, you have me now'

[glorysbox]

hi it’s me elias 🙏🙏 i had an idea for a bot I wanted to make but I thought it would be way better if you wrote it ‼️ because I read the one where you’re in the jeep and… well. ANYWAYS

my idea is basically you and Leon are long distance and you barely see each other except for a few times a year, you barely even get to call because you’re both really busy with work. it’s Valentine’s Day and you’re alone (obviously) but you really miss him. he’s not responding to your calls and it’s worrying you, maybe he’s found someone else?? then you hear knocking at your door and there he is!!!! he’s flown to see you for Valentine’s Day to finally spend time with you again. his intentions aren’t entirely sexual at first, he also just really misses you and wants to make sure you’re okay. but then he quickly realizes what he wants (and what you want.) it’s been SO long since the two of you have had sex. like years and he’s been thinking about it so much like all the damn time

you really don’t have to include all the stuff at the beginning but I just wanted to give you like the backstory ig for my idea so you can write it like. so that it makes sense. i’m really not good at explaining things so I hope this makes sense and also i love your writing

this ended up being so long... i'm sorry. right after i said i would only do 1-2k fics

leon x gn!reader (i wasn't sure if you wanted anything specific so i made it as neutral as possible!) wc: 4.6k... warnings: explicitly 18+, cumming inside, hurt + comfort, Leon's a little bit of a jerk unintentionally, make-up sex

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Leon.

You knew that you'd be alone. That he'd go on missions in foreign countries—dangerous missions—and that you'd be left wondering if he was okay or if he was even alive. But you still started dating him.

Because you love him.

Which is why today of all days is especially difficult for you. It's like the world is taunting you—everywhere you turn, there's an advertisement for Valentine's Day specials or a couple making out on the damn corner or a guy beaming as he walks down the street holding a box of chocolates and flowers in both hands.

You love Leon... but god do you hate Valentine's Day. It's one thing to only see your boyfriend a few times in a year, and it's another to be constantly reminded about just how lonely you are without him. Which is why you're currently sat on your couch, lights off, snuggled under the blanket that he bought you some odd few years ago. It still smells like him.

It's not something you've ever bothered to bring up to him. Just how lonely you are and how you miss him so often—he already has so much on his plate, why add more? That's what you tell yourself. Still, the feelings are starting to bubble over into... uncharted territory. Each time your phone buzzes, you find yourself excitedly grabbing it to see if maybe, for once... he'd call you on Valentine's Day. Or call you at all for that matter.

But he doesn't.

He never has.

He probably never will.

You really don't mean to be so upset about it... you knew what you were getting into. But still... at least one call a week, right? That's what he's promised you.

It's been two.

And it's far from the first time that he's skipped calling you. As much as it pains you to admit, there are more important things that he has to deal with—and as much as you want to be, you're unfortunately low on his priority list.

But again, you deal with it.

Because you love him.

Even if he doesn't always get the chance to call you on your birthday because he's so busy with work. Valentine's Day always goes the same. You're alone. Your boyfriend doesn't call you. You're left to watch the stupid, cheesy romance movies that you wish you could force Leon to watch and cuddle up with him on the couch like a normal couple would.

But... you're not a normal couple. You've long since accepted that... or, tried to. You've tried. Here you are, just as you have been for the past however many years, crying on your sofa as you imagine what could have been. What your relationship could be if Leon didn't have such an intensive job. It's not long before the tears start to flow freely down your cheeks.

The guilt eats you alive. You feel bad for wanting to demand some of Leon's attention. You feel bad for even feeling bad, for crying out loud. Even though, if Leon were here right now, you know that he'd comfort you and tell you just how appreciative he is of you for even sticking around for someone like him—a government agent with too much baggage.

"Damn it..." The frustration is evident as you speak to no one in particular—the noise coming out of your mouth more of a pathetic mutter than anything as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. Grabbing the remote, you very quickly turn off the scene in the movie where the two leads were about to confess their love for each other and share a kiss. God, you could use one of those right now. Being without Leon kills you. Not being able to feel his biceps around your body, squeezing the life out of you, kills you. Not being able to wake up next to him and see the way that he smiles when you're the first thing he sees opening his eyes.

It kills you so much, in fact, that as you trudge towards the front door after hearing a few short knocks, that you're not even bothering to mask your sniffles or the fact that you're feeling less than hot right now.

You hate Valentine's Day.

Opening the door with a sigh, you wipe your tears away with the back of your hand—again, not being exactly too mindful of the person who's at your front door. Cluelessness and a lack of situational awareness has always, truly, been your downfall. Of course. It's Leon. Now you're just feeling guilty again—having spent the whole day cursing him out in your mind only for him to show up at your door to surprise you.

"Are you..." You feel a familiar hand cup your face, the warmth of his calloused palm pressing and squishing against your cheek as Leon's fingers press into the soft skin. The sound of plastic wrap crinkling fills your ears; if you were to look up from your feet, you would be able to see the bouquet of flowers. Flowers. For you. From Leon. On Valentine's Day.

A part of you wants to jump into his arms. To plant kisses all over his face. To thank him for even thinking of you, even if what he's done is just the bare minimum. Another part of you just can't help but feel frustrated. Knowing that after this, after the one day that you stay together, he'll be called in to another other-worldly mission that leaves you up at night with knots in your stomach anticipating his next call to know if he's okay.

Leon's touch leaves goosebumps in it's wake. His thumb wipes the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, and then trails down to feel the skin of your neck. He can practically feel the heat radiating off of you.

"You're crying." A statement, more than a question. Your eyes are red, your pretty lips turned into a frown, and your red nose is enough of an indication of the truth. How are you going to get yourself out of this one? You really, really don't want to burden him with your feelings. You're happy, really. He doesn't need anything more on his plate.

"I...'m fine. Really, I'm just..." A sigh escapes your lips. An involuntary one. Looking up finally, you meet his gaze. Leon's icy blue eyes bore into your own, his brows drawn in and a taut frown visible on his lips. "Just was watching a sad movie." He hates to see you upset. Leon knows it's wrong of him to neglect you like this. But to see the effects of what he's done... to say that he feels horribly guilty and responsible would be an understatement. And he is responsible.

"A sad movie on Valentine's Day?" He questions, his tone slightly teasing as you step aside to let him inside of your apartment. Leon takes a deep breath—the scent of your apartment and warmth enveloping him, finally, after months. He always preferred your apartment over his... it feels like home, in his words. "I got you these."

You don't respond as he walks in your apartment like he owns it. You follow him as he makes his way into your kitchen, the silence thick and unbearable and equal parts uncomfortable. You missed him. Badly. And yet, still... you're finding it hard to open up to him right now. Maybe it's the years of bitterness of this specific damn day that are catching up to you. Leon opens your cabinet, taking out one of your mason jars to fill with water and put your hydrangeas in. As much as you want to appreciate them... and his presence, you find it hard.

"Leon, I—"

"I'm sorry." His voice cuts you off before you can continue; his tone low and just as apologetic. The mason jar full of baby blue hydrangeas is cast off to the side of your countertop as he makes his way towards you. The scent of his favorite aftershave (that he only uses to impress you) fills your nostrils as he breaches the distance between the both of you.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. I want to apologize. I need to..." His hands reach, gripping the skin of your forearms as he speaks. Leon sighs after a few moments, one of his hands reaching to run through his dirty blonde hair in a rare display of uncertainty from him. He's not good in these situations. "I haven't been the best." That's... certainly an understatement. And he knows it, too, judging from the look of guilt on his features.

Silence fills the kitchen for a few moments. Leon struggles to find the words that he wants to say—and he does have so many things to tell you. He wants you to know just how much he's missed you. He wants you to know how thankful he is for you always sticking around. He wants you to know how sorry he is for not being the boyfriend he thinks you deserve.

But... Leon was never really that good at expressing himself. Communication is one of his weakest points—he's closed off. Hard to read. But he's trying. Very hard, right now, just for you.

Because Leon loves you.

"I haven't called you. I'm sorry. I've been..." Leon swallows, shaking his head for a moment, as he then lets out a sigh. "There's no excuse. I'm sorry."

Eye contact with Leon is something that you've always savored. He's the kind of man that makes you weak in the knees just from the looks that he gives you. Of course, yes—that extends to this very moment. His eyes are full of so much... love, is it? Appreciation for you? Whatever it is, it's making your face turn redder and your heart beat faster and your hands clammier than they have ever been for the past year.

"I know you're busy, Leon... you don't have to apologize to me." The feeling of his hands running along your arms has you breathing a little quicker than before. "I'm not upset at you for it." You are, though. And he knows it. And he knows that you're just refusing to admit it because you don't want to stress him out any more than he already is, considering the state of his job.

Another long, tense silence fills the room as the both of you struggle to find the words to say. This isn't how he wanted your meeting after God knows how long to go—even though, realistically, after being neglected by him for so long... this was the only possible outcome. Still, he savors the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. He savors the pretty color of your eyes and the way you look at him so intensely that it makes his knees weak. Not that he would ever admit that last part.

"I love you. More than you know... I'm sorry." Another apology slips from his lips as he continues to feel the skin of your arms. The way his thumb rubs circles on your shoulder makes you want to explode and melt into putty right then and there. "I want to do better. To show you how much you really mean to me."

"How do you plan to do that?" The question comes out softly; the tone of your voice unconsciously sweet as you find the anger and bitterness seeping out of you by the second. It feels good. He's only touching your arm, and yet, it feels too good. You needed this. He needed this more than you did.

Leon, once more, is not a man very adept at communication. He keeps his feelings bottled up. A defense mechanism—he has to, in the line of work that he's in. What is good at, though, is showing you. You barely register it at first, the feeling of his lips on yours. It's so familiar yet alien at the same time. It's been so, so long.

His lips are soft as they're on your own. Leon's hands gently wrap around your body: one clinging to your upper arm, the other perched right on your waist. His favorite place to touch when you're kissing like this—something you'd nearly forgotten. You respond nearly immediately, almost instinctively, as your lips match his own. The tears that were just falling from your face ten minutes ago are long since forgotten now. He pulls away, much to your dismay.

"I missed you." Leon's lips are back on your own before you can respond; his touch and kiss sweet and soft and loving and essentially everything you've ever wanted for the past however long. He pulls away again, hovering over your lips. "I love you."

"I missed you more." You respond, gripping to pull him closer. He leans in again, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the way you quip back at him. These are the moments that he truly relishes in. Being inside of your warm apartment, feeling your lips on him, being able to touch you all over without having to worry about the constraint of time. Just being with you. If he had his way, it would be like this every day. He'd wake up next to you. Tell you how much you mean to him. Feel you. Every day.

"The thought of you is the only thing that kept me going." Leon says softly, his hands riding up your arms to cup your face in both of his palms. He places one sweet, soft kiss on your lips. Then another. "Knowing that I'd be able to come back to you one day."

The admission has you speechless—you think, at least. It might just be the way he's kissing you, the way he's guiding you closer to him and the way his lips are beginning to move with just the slightest bit more passion. You’re putty in his hands, and he's equally putty in yours.

It's not long before his hands start to... travel. He can't help it. Leon is a disciplined man. His job requires it of him; self control is an aspect of his personality that's saved he and many, many of the other people that he's come to work with. When it comes to you, though, he finds it... particularly hard to keep himself in check. It's evident in his restrained motions against you.

The way his hands flutter to your waist, squeezing the flesh slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough for you to not be able to ignore it's presence. His breath quickens, the warmth fanning over your face as you swear his pupils are blown further than you've ever seen them. He doesn't want you getting the wrong idea, though. He really did just come to give you some flowers and apologize... but it's you.

How can he not want to lose control?

Leon is a very selfless man... times like this, however, he finds himself to become increasingly selfish. "I love you," he repeats, his fingers running along the hem of your shirt. Cold fingers press against the warmth of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as they travel further up your torso. "Let me show you how much I love you."

"In the kitchen?" The question comes out more teasing than angry, the breathlessness of your tone making Leon's grip on your skin tighten. There's no response for a few moments—not because he's ignoring you, but because he's focusing on placing wet, hot kisses on your neck and lining them just below your ear. He knows you're sensitive there. He breaks away from your neck for a few moments.

The way his eyes are trained on your own have your heartbeat quickening even faster; the lack of a response making you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You're not even naked, and still he manages to make you feel so exposed under his gaze. One of his hands begin to bunch up your shirt, not enough to fully reveal your body.

You try not to focus on his arms too much—try not to focus on the way the veins line the muscles that he's built over the years. You try not to focus on the protrusion in his pants. His labored breathing. The way that he looks at you.

"In the bed." he uses the hand gripping your shirt to begin to guide you down the hallway. Towards the bedroom.

Leon makes good on his promise of showing his love for you.

It's been too long since you've been with him like this. Back flush against the bed, shirt pulled up just under your chin, his hands roaming all over the soft skin of your body, squeezing on the sensitive flesh of your thighs. His fingers ghost over the fabric of your underwear for a few moments, eyes trained on your reaction as he relishes in the way that you squirm under him.

"Just as sensitive as I remember," he muses, his knuckle applying pressure slightly—a smile on his face as he anticipates your reaction. "It's been too long."

"Mm," You can only hum in response, the sound of your own pulse thrumming in your ears as your body unconsciously reacts to his touch. "Yeah. I missed you."

The two of you have said the phrase at least a dozen times by now—and yet, still, the meaning of it isn't diminished in even the slightest. You missed this. And he missed this more than you could ever even know. So many nights of him staying up late, imagining you pressed up against him. Imagining himself between your thighs.. hands pressed under his pants, eyes screwed shut as he reminisced on the sounds that you'd make.

Leon can't wait anymore.

He's toyed with you enough. Propping himself on his knees, slotted between your legs, he begins to pull at his belt buckle. Your breath is shallow, paused even as you watch him unzip his pants. He uses one hand, tugging on the button as the other reaches for you. Leon's fingertips ghost along the curve of your body, feeling along the swell of your hip, reaching to the indent of your waist. His hand presses into your chest, feeling the flesh below him—his fingertips pinching your nipple and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"Leon—" The sound of his belt and pants crumpling to the floor cut you off. You tremble beneath him, body taut and awaiting his touch. The tips of Leon's ears are pink as he wraps his hand around his shaft, breathing labored as his thumb swipes over the slit of his head—collecting the precum that very freely seeps in need for you.

It's big. Like the rest of him. Big enough that each time you two have sex, he has to press inside you slowly, slow enough so that you could adjust to the size. Still, despite this, he splits you open each time.

He lines himself up. Your thighs wrap around Leon's hips, hands perched on his arm that rests on your own. The blunt tip of his cock presses against you, smearing his precum as your back instinctively arches again upon feeling his touch. Leon's breath is very, very audibly labored.

"You okay?" The worry in his tone is evident as his cock spreads you open, slowly but surely slipping into you. Inch by inch. One hand grips onto the skin of your hip, keeping you in place as his swollen cock splits you open. You can't respond, of course. The way that he bullies his way inside of you leaves you all but breathless, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin of his forearm. All you can do is nod.

"Good," his eyes on you are full of nothing less than pure adoration, his voice raspy and low and full of desire. "You feel so good already."

You're caged between Leon and the bed. The scent of aftershave and his cologne engulfs you just as much as his body around you does, his lips hovering over yours ever so often as he whispers praises in your ear and tells you just how sweet you look under him and how well you take his cock. It's not long before he's fully sheathed inside of you, the imprint of his cock shaping your insides and filling you completely.

"You feel—" Leon sheathes the rest of his cock inside of you, the last couple inches pulling a drawn out whine from you as you take all of him. A groan escapes Leon's lips, his head hanging low for a few moments as he steadies himself and struggles to adjust to just how good and warm you feel wrapped around him. In the moment of respite, his hands roam up and down your body, dedicating the shape and the curve to his memory as he elicits whimpers from you by rolling the peaks of your nipples between his two fingers.

"Leon... please." He slides his length out of you slowly, a sigh to his voice that compliments the whine you let out at the overwhelming feeling of him slipping in and out of you slowly. He craves this; craves the feeling of you under him, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him, the touch of your lips on his own. His obsession with you encompasses his thoughts every second.

"You're too good to me..." Rasp lines his voice as he looks at you underneath him. The way your hair is a mess, the expression of your face as he presses his cock back inside of you. The sight of your body, bare, for him. And only him. It's hard not to get lost in the feeling of you. The slow pace Leon sets only quickens with each passing moment, his hips snapping against your own as he makes a conscious effort to pull out all the way each time to slam his hips back and press inside of you.

The feeling is unrivaled; the sight of this handsome man—your boyfriend—sighing and groaning on top of you at the feeling of you around him. The way that he's splitting you open—his hips brutally pounding into you with all of the strength that he can muster.

Leon hungrily watches you. He watches the way your eyebrows are raised, the way your eyes roll towards the back of your skull with each particularly hard thrust inside of you. Watches the way your body ripples with each pounding of his cock into you. The way you look up at him, your expression so fucked out and pretty... it takes everything in him to not cum right then and there.

"C—can't—feels too good, Leon—" Your whines and moans come out in unintelligible babbles as the skin slapping sound reverberates in the small walls of your bedroom. Leon doesn't stop—he can't stop, even. The groans from his throat are low are raspy, each one sending a throb of need throughout your body.

"Fuck," His hands pull at your hips, lifting the bottom half of your body up slightly to better angle his cock as it slams into you. "Feel so fucking good. Needed this." The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust of his hips, the springs of your boxboard even creaking as he fucks you into the mattress. Leon is rough.

But you like it.

You like the underlying tender current in his movements, long for the way his hands pull as you and maneuver you as if you weigh nothing. You like the way you can hear the squelching sounds as he pounds into you. You're sure that he's going to leave little finger-pad shaped bruises on your hips by the time that he's done with you—not that you're actively thinking of it; too busy focusing on the mind-numbing pleasure that your boyfriend gives you as he fucks you harder than he ever has before. It'll be a reminder of the night you've shared together.

The pleasure is too much. It's all-encompassing, making your toes curl as Leon's eyes screw shut in response—head hanging low as he struggles to keep whatever semblance of control that he has left. It always seems to escape him when he's with you. Especially when he's with you like this: buried inside of you, making you remember who you belong to, and pulling those pretty noises out of your mouth that he touches himself to every night he's not with you.

Leon's memorized your body by now. He has to, to survive every night he spends away from you. Every crevice, curve, and every motion that you make. From the way your back is arching, the way that your hands claw at his own—leaving angry red marks—it's clear that you're close. The way that you squeeze around him, leak around him... it's obvious.

"Gonna cum in you," he states, doesn't say—doesn't ask, he tells. "And you're gonna take it all." There's nothing you can do but take it. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all down your neck—drawing back for a moment to place another right on your lips. He swallows up your whines, the noises muffled by his lips spurring him onward. His hips twitch, and stutter—but he keeps the pace. Leon wants to show you how much he loves you, remember?

His hips drive into you, burying his shaft to the hilt inside of you every time. It's almost like a game to him—fucking you as hard as he can—the prize being the sounds you make each time he impales you with his cock. You grip at his hands, pulling on them—pulling on his arms, the sheets below you—anything. Anything to ground you.

He doesn't stop. Even as you're whining his name, babbling about how you're gonna cum, even as you're arching and shaking under him as you cum around him—hard. Your hands and fingers are nothing to the feeling of being filled by him. Leon fucks you through your orgasm, his own voice shaky as he talks you through it. Telling you how beautiful you are. How well you take him. Telling you to keep squeezing his cock like that, because he's so close.

Leon's hips sputter and twitch, his pace faltering as he groans—deep and raspy—his balls squeezing as he empties himself inside of you. He presses his hips into you still, buried to the hilt so that not even a modicum of space separates him from you. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spurt inside of you. You can even feel him shaking from the intensity of his orgasm.

Still buried inside of you, Leon leans down, pressing his body on top of yours as he seeks out your warmth and the comfort of your arms wrapped around him. He almost doesn't want to pull out—and in another act of selfishness, he decides to linger in you for just a few moments. You don't stop him.

A comfortable silence befalls the room. Save for the sounds of your breathing, the room is quiet. It takes a few moments of riding out the aftershocks and gaining your conscience back (since he did fuck it out of you) for you to speak.

"I don't want you to leave." Leon knows that you're always sappy after sex. It's why he spends extra time cuddling you. Reminding you that you're the only one for him. That only you make him feel so much love. Your hands hug him tighter, bringing him even closer down on to you.

"Not leaving." He mutters, voice slightly muffled as his face is buried in the crook of your neck.

That's all you needed to hear.

[yellowhellion]

I just read through Sky Sea Saga in one sitting, and I'm super interested in where it might go, to say nothing of really enjoying your art. Comic or no. I'm curious, as an aspiring creative myself, I'm wondering how much of the story you're telling has been mapped out ahead of time, if at all you're doing any rewriting behind the scenes, and lastly how you started practicing comic layouts as opposed to just Drawing Characters.

Ahhh thank you!! I hope you enjoy where it's gonna go! 🙏

Sky Sea Saga is something that's been basically spinning like a rotisserie chicken in my head for a loooooong time now lmao, it's gone through several drafts and a few rewrites and more than one overhaul. Some things I've kept, others I've thrown out, and some new things have been introduced, but I've always known the general shape of the story, some important story beats I wanna hit, and how I want it to end. To be honest? The road map to get there is still pretty fuzzy! Some people might do well with a perfectly laid out and meticulously planned script for their story, but for me? In a format like webcomics where it can take YEARS for them to get where they're going? I think it's important to leave yourself some room to play around, change things if you need to, and to be a little spontaneous sometimes. I think it'd be pretty boring to follow a perfectly laid out story map I wrote years ago, especially if my tastes and sensibilities have changed since then. It'd feel more like trudging through rote work rather than letting the plan organically change and evolve with me as I go. So yeah! I do end up rewriting stuff as I need to, nothing's really set in stone until it is if you know what I mean lmao!

As for comic layouts, honestly I think the best way to practice is to just start doing them! You can see the theory by reading Scott McCloud's books Understanding Comics and Making Comics (and you should! They're really good!!), but theory without practice isn't necessarily gonna make you better at it, so just dive in and start making comics! They might suck at first (I know mine did lmao), but as a wise man once said, "sucking at something is the first step towards being sorta good at something." Honestly, I'm FAR from being an expert, I've got a LOT to learn and a LOT of room to improve, but looking back at an old scrapped draft of this comic from a few years ago, I can see just how far I've come since then, and it's exciting to think that I'll probably be thinking the same thing in a few years of the pages I'm making right now!

If you'd like a practical tip, do thumbnails! They're a super important part of the process, basically doing a really quick sketch of the whole page in miniature so you can get a quick view of how the layout looks, how clear it is to read, and what might need to change about it. Also it helps to just read a lot of comics and think about what makes them work the way they do (or maybe what makes them NOT work, which is also important to know!). Lastly, just have fun with it! Comics are fun to make, so just enjoy the process! ✌️

[woozivrse]

Hiding the Truth, Pretending I'm Fine

Jeon Wonwoo x gn! reader

Genre: Hanahaki AU, college AU, fluff, usual angst that comes with the AU, happy ending!

Words: 4k and some change!

Warnings: vomiting, doctors, surgery mention(doesn't happen! don't worry<3), implied depression? reader feels down and i kinda wrote it in a way that it could be read as depression..., death mentions(one a joke at the start, and the other being apart of the whole AU thing..., cursing, my ocs Mai and Kimi(ok my friends oc...) use different pronouns, Mai(She/He) and Kimi(She/They), blood

Notes: sooo... if you've read this before you are either 1) a friend i had read this for school or 2) you are my old english teacher, in which, hi. why are you here. please leave. please. aka i am repurposing this for tumblr, because i am pretty proud of it, meaning please be gentle on me. i am just a tiny tiny child. but tell me what you think! tell me if i missed any warnings, and stuff like that! also, stole the title from bittersweet. you'll see why! enjoy<3

You had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo for who knows how long, but you hadn't known it. Until you started coughing. You wish it had been easier.

❀DAY 1, SUNDAY 8:30AM, YOUR APARTMENT

“Ooh my baby,” You cooed. “How's my little baby~ Hm? How are you Hoshi? What about you Byeol~~ Thank you for the gift~~”

Kimiko, your high school friend slash roommate, burst into your room. “Stop being a crazy cat person! Get up and out, Wonwoo is waiting for you,”

“Already? I just woke up–”

“Oh, no he's not here, here. He's just waiting for you like, in general y'know?”

“Die,”

“Not how you talk to your bestest friend in the world,” She pouted.

“That would be Wonwoo,”

“Bestest roommate in the world?”

“Mai.”

“Fuck youuuu,”

❀9:25AM, ROCKET CAFE

Sitting down, Wonwoo placed an iced latte in front of you. Every Sunday, the two of you met at either the library or the cafe to plan your week out together. This week was the cafe. He stared at you, watching you work.

“Stop watching me, creep,” you grinned, tapping your foot against Wonwoo. “C’mon, I know I’m pretty ‘n all but you really should stop staring at me,”

“So full of yourself,” He teased. “You’ve got something, here I’ll get it.”

You rolled your eyes at Wonwoo pretending to fix your hair. Always trying to “fix” something, your hair, your clothes. You knew you weren't a messy person. What you didn't know was why Wonwoo did it. Sighing, you just let him fiddle with your hair. As he did that, you stole his phone, unlocking it to check his calendar for the week.

“Boo,” you pouted. “We barely match up this month, outside of class. Look! We don’t match this week and next week we match once, on Friday night,”

Seemingly done with your hair, he checked your planner. “Oh, you’re right. Isn’t that during the get together Cheol is holding?”

“Oh I think it is,” you sulked. “No free time for just us! Oh I am in pain, jail for a thousand years!”

He chuckled. “It’s fine, we can sneak some time in,”

“Not at a Cheol party. I’m gonna be tipsy and you’re probably going to be on babysitting duty,”

“Babysitting you,”

Grumbling, you stood from the chair and fell onto Wonwoo's shoulders like a lump of nothing, smacking him a little. Vernon, your mutual friend who worked at the cafe, took a picture and sent it to their group chat without the two of you, followed by a text saying “yo right in front of my salad?”. The group chat exploded with messages with variants of “they’re seriously not dating?” and one text from Joshua, one of the other workers at the cafe, saying “get back to work!!”.

❀DAY 4, WEDNESDAY 12:30PM, ON THE WAY TO CLASS

This, you decided early on in your college days, was your favorite part of college. Walking with Wonwoo to whatever class you two shared, was great(unless the two of you didn't share a class, in which he would walk you to whatever class you had after the two of you had lunch).

You looked at him, seeing him staring at you, again. “Hey, what's with you looking at me so often, huh?” You raised a brow. “What, do you like me or something?”

He smiled, “Sure, something like that,”

Your face warmed, you could just feel the heat go to your ears.

You whipped your head away from him before saying. “Oh– oh just shut it! Don't even joke about that, Wonwoo!”

And then you started coughing, which granted, the weather had been getting colder, but you started coughing hard. Leaning down, you started coughing into your elbow before pulling away and seeing… petals? Bloody, purple flower petals. You quickly grabbed them before shoving them into your pocket.

Wonwoo put his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it. “Woah, hey, are you alright? Do you need water, anything? I’ll take you home if you need,”

You nodded, your throat still feeling a little raw. “Um… yeah, water would be nice, please,”

He handed you his water bottle, yours being at home. “Here, just drink from it. I’m fine without it for now,”

You sent him an appreciative look before downing the water. “Okay, I think I’ll be good for class now,”

He looked at you, obviously worried. “If you're sure… but I’m taking you home if you start coughing like that again,”

❀1:47, CLASS

You started coughing again.

There was no reason for it, you had just caught Wonwoo once again looking at you weirdly, causing your heart to flutter just a bit before you had berated yourself, thinking, Stop it, stop it! He doesn't like me…he just doesn't. And then the coughing happened again.

It had been so bad that the professor had stopped class and asked if you had needed to go. Wonwoo answered that question by grabbing your stuff and taking you out of the class. Oh well, you thought, Guess going to that class was for nothing.

Once you had finished coughing, you again found bloody petals. What the fuck…

“Hey, are you sure you're okay?” Wonwoo looked really worried now, placing a hand on your forehead, then cheeks. “You certainly don't seem okay, but you’re not warm or anything,”

You shook your head. “I think it might be the weather. You know I get a little iffy around this time of year,”

He hesitantly accepted your reason, knowing it was true, just usually happened later in the year. He shrugged his jacket off, placing it on your shoulders. “Well, keep this on until we reach your place, I don't want you actually getting sick,”

❀2:07PM, YOUR APARTMENT

Sitting on your bed, your eyebrows scrunched up before you sighed. Just, what was happening to you? Coughing up flowers– that's something out of a storybook, not real life.

Your heart fluttered when you thought about Wonwoo, but why. Why was your heart doing this, why, why, why. Wonwoo was so sweet to you, that's why, you reasoned. Right? You…didn't like him, did you? You couldn't.

You started coughing, again. Running to the bathroom, you knelt over the toilet.

❀2:34PM

Kimi sang. “Your favorite dancer is home~”

Kimi stepped into the kitchen, dropping her bag into the floor, before calling your name. “Hellooo?”

Silence filled the apartment, which left Kimi worried. Walking through the hallway, Kimi knocked on your bedroom door, opening it when no noise happened. Nothing.

“What the…” Kimi muttered. “Ugh, where’d I put my phone… dance practice you thot!”

Dragging herself back to the kitchen, she shuffled through their duffel bag. Calling your phone, rings came from the bathroom. Making her way to the bathroom, Kimi barged in. There you were, in all your shitty, sweaty glory was you, throwing up into the toilet.

“Fuck!” Kimi dropped to her knees, rubbing your back. “You should’ve told us you were sick. One of us would’ve stayed home for you,”

You whined. “Kimi… it’s fine both of you were busy, I couldn’t let you guys stay home. Besides, this happened during class.”

“The one you have with Wonwoo?”

Nodding, you straightened. “Mm… he brought me home,”

“What happened?”

“I… um… started coughing up flower petals…” You muttered.

“You what?”

Sighing, you reached your hand into your pockets and brought out the bloody flower petals.

“What the– Why are they bloody!?”

“I started coughing these up,” You started to explain. “Look, they’re in the toilet bowl too. I… I asked Sayu, before I went into the bathroom, she said they were bittersweet or something like that…”

“You should go to the ER! Or at least the doctor– you don’t know what this is,”

“I will, I will. I was going to call her after this whole…fit,”

❀DAY 6, FRIDAY 1:15PM, SEOUL DOCTOR

“So, what’s the reason for this appointment?” Doctor Kim asked, checking the files in hand.

“Um…so the other day, Wednesday, I uh… started coughing flower petals,” You explained, pulling the petals out. “They were um, bloody.”

Clicking her tongue, Doctor Kim examined a petal. “Oh dear…I see,”

“Why’d it happened? How’d it even get in my body?”

Doctor Kim sighed, pulling up an article on the computer in the room. “I’m afraid there’s not much research on this. I’ve never personally seen it but I know doctors who have diagnosed it. We’re calling it hanahaki, from the Japanese words 花 and 吐く, flower and to vomit. We’ve noticed that it’s from unrequited love,” she glanced at you and then the flower petals, “Do you…do you love someone? Do you believe they don’t love you back?”

You played with your hair, suddenly the floor looking interesting. “Um…I…I guess,”

“You guess?”

“I do. I…kinda just realized it and then spiraled for a little. On Wednesday, when I first coughed them up.”

“I see. I’m going to give you options and I will definitely push you towards a specific one. But I want you to know that it is entirely up to you, what you want to do,” sighing, she leaned onto her knees. “You could confess, and if your feelings get reciprocated the flowers will leave your body through a few days. If they don’t, then your lungs will grow with flowers faster and you’ll suffocate. If you do, come to the ER immediately.

“The last option is surgery, we remove the flowers and any roots in your lungs. But it’s a complicated surgery, and if successful you lose all memories of said person and you’ll never feel anything for them ever again. It’s a last resort for a reason, and if you even think they return your feelings, confess. I mean it, you need to confess.”

❀DAY 8, SUNDAY 11:37AM, YOUR ROOM

Laying on your bed, you pulled your blankets over your shoulders, tucking yourself in. Getting up seemed to take up so much more energy these days, it was so much effort, effort you couldn't seem to put in.

Your phone rang, and you left it. It stopped for a few seconds before ringing again. You sighed as it stopped again. It pinged a few times, two followed by one more before your phone silenced. You couldn't bring yourself to check, even though you knew it was Wonwoo, you set his notifications to have a special ringer. You were just… tired.

Nonu ❙

Hey, are you okay?

??? Hello??? You always answer, are you sick??

??? I’m coming over.

❀12:42PM

Wonwoo knocked on your door, before opening it. Seeing you still tucked into your bed confused him.

“I know I've asked this a couple times, but are you okay?” He sat on your bed, patting your leg. “Hello? Have you not woken up just yet?”

You hummed lightly. “No…I’m tired,”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to be alone? You seem…well tired,”

You hummed again. He couldn't tell what you were feeling, facing away from him and barely saying anything.

“I’ll go, but I hope you feel better. I’ll get Mai and Kimi to take care of you,”

❀DAY 10, TUESDAY 11:23AM

Knocking on the door, Mai entered the room after a beat.

“You haven’t woken up yet?” She questioned, sitting on the bed. “You ok? I haven’t seen you wake up later than 9 since we were high schoolers,”

“Maiiii,” You whined. “I’m so TIRED, I can't even explain why!”

“The petals?”

“Of course, it's the– How do you know about them?”

He shrugged. “Kimi told me a little, sorry.”

“It's fine. I mean, you would've found out anyways,”

“Yeah, I would've. What happened, like why are they a thing? Kimi only mumbled something about petals and blood and purple– good color by the way,”

“I mean, the doctor said it's this stupid thing called hanahaki–”

“Like, hana as in 花, as in flower?”

“Uh, I think– STOP you're distracting me!” You jumped out from the covers.

“Yeah, but that got you out of bed. That was the goal~”

“You are the worst,”

Pulling you by the hands, Mai led you to the dining room.

“Our zombie lives!” cheered Kimi.

Flipping Kimi off, you pried yourself from Mai’s arms. “What was that for? I was gonna get out of bed eventually, it's only–”

“Only 11:23!” Kimi cut her off. “You are two hours late youngster!”

“To what?”

“To civilization! You have never–”

“Once woken up after 9, yes I am aware,”

“So you are aware we were worried, right?” Kimi huffed. “Now, eat! You are a growing child, no child of mine will starve!”

“I'm 20. We are the same age,”

“And,” Mai cut in. “I'm 21. I say you eat and get yourself freshened up. We are having a roommates day out,”

“What happened to my childhood friend,” you sulked.

“She has gone nowhere, I have always been your mother,” Mai chided. “Now eat, you actually look like a zombie,”

❀12:15PM, HALF MOON CAFE

“So, young child of mine,” Kimi started, placing the group’s order down. “Why have you been coughing up a storm, and why are there bloody flowers everywhere? You only mumbled something about them, and I want to know why!”

The three of them were in a small cafe they frequented often, mainly due to your part-time job there.

“Still can’t believe you guys got me here on my day off,” you sighed, playing with your drink. “It’s nothing. I already went to a doctor, she said it was ‘Hanahaki’ or something,”

“Hana as–”

“Yes hana as in 花, as in flower. Why did you both ask the same question?”

“I needed clarification,” Kimi shrugged. “But like, what’s the haki part? Like what even is hanahaki?”

“The haki is 吐く, like to vomit,”

“It’s a disease where flowers grow in your- in your lungs?!” Mai read from his phone, head whipping to you. “And you could die?”

“Not so loud– lord why did we go here,”

“I’m sorry– you’re upset I’m being loud? You could die, do not tell me to be quiet?”

You sighed, “Look, this is why I didn’t want to tell anyone! They get all dramatic, it’s not a big deal. It’s due to unrequited love, so all I have to do is unfall in love.”

“Uh, speaking as the person who’s in a committed relationship,” Kimi injected. “Impossibly hard. Like, I’m talking insanely hard. I mean–”

“We get it,” Mai said, cupping her face. “Look, it even took me a while to get over my first ex, and he stalked me! I’m with Kimi, there are easier ways to do this.”

“Except there’s not! It's either I unfall in love, confess, or get surgery! And, mind you, that surgery will remove all my memories of said person and remove all my feelings. It’s not like I can do that. I can’t lose someone I’m in love with– and I can’t lose my feelings! How am I supposed to live without being happy, or sad, or–”

“Then confess! They’ll reciprocate them, I’m sure.” Mai held your hands. “Please, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you, you’re too important to us.”

“I am not confessing–”

“Confessing?” A voice cut in, Wonwoo. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Wonwoo! No, no! I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve–”

“Been busy.” He rolled his eyes. “Look, if this was over some guy, you could've told me. I would've gotten it and backed off,”

You stood up. “It is not! Look, we went over schedules– we were both booked! You cannot say I have been ignoring you,”

“Does that mean you can’t answer my texts? Or calls?” He argued, walking away from you and out of the cafe.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t do the same to me. How come you’re acting like I’m doing it on purpose!” You followed.

“I haven’t ghosted you, never for days on end!”

“Oh sure,” You stopped and rolled your eyes. “I’m not arguing about this, not in public,”

“Oh so you’re running away, like always?” Wonwoo turnt around. “Like you always do when something happens, like the coward you are?”

Your eyes watered as you stumbled back like you were struck. “Fine! Yes, I’m running away, just like you said! Just like I always have, according to you, but don’t you dare try to come talk to me.”

❀DAY 13, FRIDAY 7:37PM, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL’S APARTMENT

You and Kimi walked into Seungcheol’s party, being eagerly greeted by Kim Mingyu.

He cheered both of your names. “Let me get you drinks, come in! I’m not allowed to help you with your coats, Cheol is worried about me breaking something again.”

Laughing, Kimi pat him on the arm. “It’s fine! I’m here to be sober, drunk watch and all that,”

“Mai forced her to be my babysitter,” You sulked. “Like I’m gonna get drunk off my ass or something…”

Mingyu and Kimi gave each other a knowing look. Like you hadn't been upset since the fight. Kimi pushed you further into the house, hearing the chatter of the others. Mai and Kimi figured it was best to get you to talk to someone, and what better way than to get her drunk with friends?

❀11:34PM

Bad idea. Mai and Kimi both forgot one important thing about a drunk you. You were an emotional drunk. Meaning, right now? You were sobbing your ass off, drunk, over Wonwoo.

Kimi could barely understand you because you were muffled by–

“Fuck,” Kimi muttered, launching herself towards you. “Spit them out, I fucking mean it you drunk fuck. Spit. Them. Out.”

You listened. Saliva and blood covered petals fell into Kimi’s hand. You fell into Kimi’s arms, still sobbing.

“He hates me Kimi! He does. He hasn't talked to me in 3 days! The longest we’ve gone is probably around a couple hours! Never this long,”

Kimi sighed, petting your hair. It pained them all to see her like this.

“He doesn't hate you, yknow,” Mingyu said, also patting you on the back. “He’s just upset right now. He’s probably also crying right now,”

“I don't want him crying over me!” You sobbed even harder.

Seungkwan hit Mingyu away, clicking his tongue. “Ignore him, Mingyu’s dumb. We know this. Wonwoo’s upset, but he’s not crying. He's probably thinking about what happened and trying to figure out how to apologize to you,”

“But he doesn't have to apologize, I was the one being a bitch!”

“All of you leave her alone,” Jeonghan swatted everyone besides Kimi. “Sweetheart, honey, drink this,”

He handed you a cup of water, urging you to drink. You tried to drink it, but instead a full flower came out of her mouth.

“FUCK,” Kimi shouted. “Fuck fuck- where’s their phone? Hurry one of you, give it to me!”

Kimi dialed your doctor, explaining that you had actually coughed up a flower. “C’mon hun, c’mon. Get up, we have to visit someone,”

“What's happening?” Mingyu questioned. “Kimi– what was that? Why did a flower come out of their mouth? Kimi?”

“Don't, don't worry. Just call Mai for me, tell her we're at the hospital. She’ll know why,” Kimi explained. “Sorry to bring the mood down,”

“Don't be. Now go, go! It seems urgent,” Cheol pushed the two of you out of the apartment.

❀11:48PM, SEOUL HOSPITAL

Your doctor sighed, closing the door behind her and facing Kimi and Mai. “I’m to assume you two are their roommates, meaning they told one of you at least a little?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Kimi fidgeted. “She told me a little, just like, uh she was coughing flowers cuz of something called hanahaki? Uhm.. and that it was a disease caused by–”

“Unrequited love, yes. However, that’s not something we’re entirely sure about,”

“What do you mean, not entirely sure about? Did you tell her something incorrect about a disease that could kill her!?” Mai shouted.

“Yes and no,” Doctor Kim sighed. “Look, ladies, hanahaki is rare– we’re not sure about everything. But, there's a theory, that I have personally searched into, that it’s not unrequited love. More like, insecurity in the afflicted. The flowers, do you know what they are and what they mean?”

“Oh! Uhm, I think I remember our friend saying they were bittersweet? And that they meant truth? Truthfulness?”

“Then, there. They likely need to tell the truth, if the theory holds up. Either way though, one of you should get whoever they’re crushing, or in love with, here as soon as you can. I will make an exception for you three, and only you three, to be here after hours if they have not gained consciousness. The other should stay with them. I don't want any surprises,”

❀11:57PM

“Where are they!?” Wonwoo bursted into the hospital lobby.

Ignoring the onlooking staff, he went straight towards Mai.

“Mai, you cannot call me, say my best friend is in the hospital, and then not give me context,” he said, holding the dead tired girl by the shoulders.

“You hung up on me right after I said they were here! I’m not calling you back and getting you into an accident– we do not need that! Now, come. I'll bring you to them, your job is to get them to actually tell you the truth. I don't care what it takes, they have to.”

Leading the barely taller man, Mai opened the door to your hospital room. Pulling Kimi out, Mai quickly pat you on the head with a quiet, “Confess,”

“Wonu?” You croaked.

“Hey,” He sat on the edge of her bed. “What happened? Why are you here– why have you been avoiding me? I thought we told each other everything,”

He looks heartbroken, you thought, heart clenching at it. “It- it wasn't your fault, Wonu. I just- if I told you, I’d lose you. I can’t do that,”

“But you're here, in a hospital. Mai said you could die. Why do you think I can live without you?”

“I-”

“Please. You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you,”

Bursting into tears, you sobbed. “Exactly! I’m your best friend, that's all I’ll ever be! Wonwoo, have you ever thought I wanted to be more than friends with you?”

“Wh–”

“It’s you, it has always been you! I just had a shitty way of finding out, and now I’m dying! I don't want to die. I want to live out my life with you, and Mai, and Kimi, and and just– everyone! But if I get the surgery I lose my best friend– the love of my life! It's either I lose you by confessing, or I lose you by forgetting you, or I lose everyone by dying! I don't want this–”

“Hey, hey,” Wonwoo wiped the tears from your face. “Who said you’d ever lose me? Remember, I will always be here for you. Always. Besides, I’ve loved you ‘since forever’. You have nothing to fear,”

Your eyes overflowed with tears, and your mouth, flowers. Calling a doctor, Wonwoo was quickly kicked from the room. Worried, he quickly walked to the lobby.

“Wonwoo!” Kimi exclaimed, bouncing anxiously towards him. “Where- where are they? Why are you out here?”

“Well, I got kicked out. We confessed but then they started coughing again and–”

“You finally confessed? Like, for real none of that ‘I love you, as a friend’ bullshit?”

“Yes– why is that what you're focusing on? They started coughing flowers again, Kimi,”

“I know, I know, but I’ve been waiting for this since I met you two. That was our first year of high school!”

“Stop fighting you two,” Mai butt in. “What happened? Why are you out here?”

❀DAY 14, SATURDAY 12:21AM

After explaining everything, the three of them went to hunt Doctor Kim down. Meaning, they were waiting outside of your room.

Walking out of your room, Doctor Kim turnt around and jumped. “Oh, you three scared me. Sorry, sorry. I should’ve told you to go home. But, they're fine. They’re resting now, you can visit when the hospital opens up again and you can see them then,”

“We can’t leave her!” Kimi whisper shouted, still aware of the fact that you were likely sleeping.

“No, you can’t but you will. I understand you’re scared about them, but they’ll be fine. They’ll have to stay here for another few days, but it’s just so we can monitor them. You can visit, but only during visiting hours. Now shoo, you are college students here on a Saturday,”

❀1:19PM, YOUR HOSPITAL ROOM

Wonwoo walked into the room, with a bouquet of aster flowers. Chuckling Wonwoo put them on the bedside table.

“Sorry, I know it’s a little soon,” Wonwoo sat. “but I asked your friend, um, Sayu? She said you thought they were pretty, the flowers, that is. Aster, she called them.”

You laughed softly. “It’s ok Wonu, they’re lovely. I love them, thank you,”

He smiled. “I’m glad. I know we only just established everything but I want to ask, can I be your boyfriend?”

You laughed, and Wonwoo pouted at that. “Sorry, sorry I’m not laughing at you. Never at you. Yes, of course you can be my boyfriend. Why’d I ever say no, I don’t know.”

THE END<3

[silenzahra]

Hi! So I just finished rereading "Without him", the wonderful story you wrote for my birthday based on my art and Luigi's Mansion alternate ending idea.

As I mentioned before, when I first read it on my birthday, the euphoria of getting a gift like that kept interrupting my immersion😆 So, now that I've read the fic again with a (mostly) clearer head, I'd like to once again share some thoughts!

So first of all, I'd like to praise the way you combined two different pieces of my art into one story to give my original idea a good ending, as well as the way you beautifully transformed those visual media into words and fleshed them out with so much care and attention to detail. Absolutely incredible.

Next, I want to once again say that I LOVE the POV switches, with Luigi's being set in the present and Mario's being the flashbacks, switching back and forth to tell the full story. That was very cool, and you made it work so well, placing the flashbacks in just the right places. I know it was the hard part for you, but you pulled it off perfectly.

Then we get the super sweet ending. I adore the way Mario and Luigi quickly proceed to joke and laugh after reuniting. You can really tell how happy they are to be together again, and how all is well as long as they have each other. I like how the entire story ends with Mario peacefully sleeping in Luigi's arms. What a sweet, comforting ending🥰

Ah, which reminds me! I love how many times you used the titular words "without him" throughout the story just to end it with the sentence: "After all, he’s finally with him again", and it feels so earned🤌 Perfect.

Of course, as per usual, you are the absolute QUEEN when it comes to portraying emotion in your fics. And this one was filled to the brim with emotion. The raw grief and despair when Luigi thought Mario was dead was so darn heart wrenching. And it was so sad when he thought Mario was a ghost at first. But then when he realized he was alive, oh boy, I could feel that joy and relief. And then there's Mario's part... Wow. Going from fear and despair to determination and hope, with some anger thrown in there too, to the eventual pure joy, it was such a rollercoaster. This part where he, THE Super Mario, hit a really low point and cried over his perceived failure:

"He was grateful to have been left alone. At least no one would see him crying. At least no one would hear his low sobs or witness how tremendously pathetic he really was. What a hero. The shame of the Mushroom Kingdom. The most pathetic loser anyone had ever heard of. The disgrace of his family. The furthest thing imaginable from a role model."

...that stuff hit hard. Oof.

And speaking of Mario's part, OH BOY, the action and suspense was phenomenally written and kept me on the edge of my seat, even as I was reading it all for the second time. Our boy was really put through the wringer and had to fight really hard for his survival. And he did it all for Luigi. Mah heart...

I also love the use of Italian here, especially how Mario was using it even when he was alone because it comforted him and made him feel closer to his brother. Yes yes yes, I headcanon the same thing! Actually, you could already see a bit of it in my comic when Mario's speaking to Toad - or rather to himself as he is well aware that Toad is dead - and mixing some Italian into his speech.

Zahra, my dear twin. You wrote such a long and beautiful story inspired by my art, for me. I still can't believe you did this, on top of everything else you did to give me a great birthday. Just, thank you so much🥹🫂 It means so much to me. I really love this fic, in fact it remains my favorite of your works so far. And not just because of the obvious bias, it really is just that good😁 You should really be proud of yourself.

I hope this additional review could make you smile, sis. Love you❤️💚

My dear @megamagimugi, you keep filling my inbox with all your love and support for me and my writing and I seriously don't know how to thank you 🥹🫂 Finding this long and detailed ask in my inbox that morning after the rough previous night that I'd had due to my anxiety... it really was life-saving. Thank you, my beloved brother, I really owe you big time 🫂❤️💚

First of all, I know I keep saying it, but I'm just amazed that you keep rereading my stories, especially this one as it's the longest I've written so far 🥹🥹 You know it was my entire pleasure to write it for you and as I said, I'm more than happy that I could surprise you with it 🥰 Aww I can totally get the feeling, hehe 🤭 I'm honored that you gave it a second read some time later!! And also that you took the chance to share your thoughts in my inbox 🥹🫂

Thank you, dear bro!! Your art is just THAT inspiring 😄😄 I really LOVE your Luigi's Mansion AU and I'm eager to see what else you'll create based on it 🤭😁 Also, I really loved linking it to your expression drawing as it just worked perfectly well 👌👌 I absolutely LOVE angst, but as a writer I usually prefer to give it a happy ending afterwards. As a consumer though, I'm all in for heartwrenching endings 😌👌

Awwjewojgnoewisds I swear the way you describe and compliment my writing never fails to touch me deep 🥹🥹 I've done it a few times already, but I could literally just reread your ask over and over again, and if it were a physical thing you bet I'd be sleeping with it as if it were my Luigi plushie. Your words and support heal me and lift my spirits, my dear twin. You are pure magic 🫂🫂🫂

One of my favorite things to do as a writer is switching from one POV to another so we can get as many perspectives as possible of the same story. And I love doing it in my fics whenever I can, especially in long stories like Without him. Still, it's true that I did struggle with Mario's perspective, as I wasn't too sure how to mix it with Luigi's... I felt that, no matter how I tried blending them, it didn't fully work. Actually, here's a secret: I even considered deleting or, at the very least, changing the first flashback where Mario fights against the Boos... But I was EXTREMELY proud of how it came out. So I decided to focus on fixing the other two flashbacks as the second one really was longer than it should lol.

All of this to say... Thank you so much for acknowledging my hard work with this 🥲🫂 It really means the entire universe to me that you loved it so much, my beloved bro. Truly makes me feel that my effort was worth it 🥹🫂

Awww your beautiful words about the ending really made me smile 🥹🥹 Just, I feel that no matter what these two go through or how long they're apart, the moment they're together again, everything flows naturally between them. They're happy and relaxed because they're again with their comfort person, so the jokes just come inherently. And I'm just so glad that I was able to reflect this in this story 🥹🥹 Also, I'm WEAK for these two sleeping together. Just imagining Mario falling asleep in Luigi's arms makes me wanna cry from cuteness and tenderness 🥹🥹

Yeeeeeheheheyyyy I LOVE that you got it, bro 😁😁 Literally EVERY single time that those words are put together throughout the story is made on purpose, as well as the "with him" at the end 😌 What can I say, I love stories that come full circle, so it felt quite satisfying to write this one 😁 Thanks a lot for pointing out!! Makes me feel even more fulfilled and happier with how this story turned out 😄🫂

AÑSLFSPOGJDORIJGPAEOJDGS not you calling me "Queen," oh my GOD 🥹🥹😭😭 Mugi, I am HONORED. Emotions are always the most important part in my stories, as I ALWAYS want the readers to know exactly what the character is feeling, and if I'm able to actually make them feel the same way, even better. So it really means everything that I succeeded with this one, as it really was a damn rollercoaster for me as a writer when I was working on it 🥲 So I'm making my readers pay for it, hehehe 😈/jkkk

No but really, I truly am honored and elated, bro!! I could literally make you feel everything that the brothers went through, and every single comment or reblog I've gotten on this story also showed that everybody else experienced the same emotions, which is just EVERYTHING for me as a writer 🥹🥹 I'm still very pleasantly shocked at all the praise this story got when I posted it, but all of you agreeing on this... I guess I really did my job right after all 🤭 And it's truly SO fulfilling and significant for me 🥹🥹

You bet I LOVED delving into Luigi's emotions, especially when he thought Mario was dead, and I freaking LOVED writing the moment when he realizes he's not a ghost, but his real, living bro 🥹🥹 I'm a sucker for brotherly angst, what can I say. Also, Mario's parts were, despite my struggles, VERY exciting to write. I love action scenes as well, and as I said I'm proud with how the first flashback turned out. Oh I'm beyond HAPPY that this was your favorite part, my dear brother!! It's not common that we get to see Mario at his lowest point, so it's something I just LOVE to explore (or consume too). I totally see him being actually grateful that he can be alone when this happens... I totally get that it hit hard as it was the same for me 🫂🫂 Mario was so relatable during that part 🥲💔

YAYYYYYY oh God, I'm THRILLED that you enjoyed his parts and the action and everything 😄😄 As I said, that was quite cool to write, I really should write more action with Mario (and hopefully Luigi) in the future... But really, bro, I'm so freaking happy right now!!! Especially considering this was your second read 😁😁 Oh what a BOOST of motivation your excitement is, I swear. Also, of course he did it all for Luigi, and as he said at the end of the story, he'd do it again. And of course Luigi feels the same way. That's just how they work 🥹❤️💚

Yippee!!! I'm so glad that we share the same headcanon 🤝😄 This was actually my very first time writing them speaking Italian, and it certainly won't be the last 😁😁 It's a language that I LOVE, and these two using it because it makes them feel closer to each other is something that simply melts my heart 🥹🥹 Also, yeah, I've seen it in your comic too... That was devastating, man 🥲 Poor Mario... and of course poor Toad too 😭💔 Still, I really like how we both make use of this language in our different stories. We're twinning again 😁💚❤️

Mugi, my dear twin... Your last paragraph really touched me and made me melt entirely 🥹🥹 So much so that now I'm but a puddle 😭😭 Just, wow. I just can't thank you enough for everything that you do for me. As I said this ask really made me smile and feel so much better, and it's thanks to you that I feel so confident about my writing and that I'm doing better with my anxiety. You BET I shall be writing more stories for you, my beloved bro, as this was truly my entire pleasure. I'm just so giddy that I could make you so happy and give you the great birthday that you deserve 🥹🫂 Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU. It means the world to me that it's your favorite and that you love it so much 😭😭 I am proud, but I know without a doubt that if I weren't, this ask would've been more than enough to make me feel proud of this story 🫂🫂

Your ask made me smile and more, bro. It gave me comfort when I needed it the most. It made me so emotional in the best way possible. It gave me exactly what I needed after that rough night from last week. You always take good care of me and I know I'm the luckiest person on Earth that I found you. From the bottom of my heart: thank you, my beloved brother. I love you too, more than I'm able to express 🫂❤️💚

[hexgaywire]

Hi! Could I ask for a short fic (SFW) of Hex comforting his S/O (preferably female) after she gets home tired, from a stressful day of work because she had to stay extra hours? Thanks in advance~ 💕

This is the perfect request I love you 5ever for requesting Hex too. I'd be happy to do this.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Hex comforting his tired S/O

Ft. Hex Haywire

Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of burnout, food mentions, hurt/comfort type beat

»»————-　☾　————-««

It had been a long day at work. You're burnt out having to do overtime, your boss had been nagging you all day and all you wanted to do was go back to your apartment with your lovely boyfriend lay down and die.

When you finally clock out for the day you feel the rest of the weight of commuting home start to cave on you. "Only a little longer." You sigh to yourself. Your eyes feel heavy and your body feels like it could give out at any moment.

-

Finally reaching home you fumble for your keys and unlock the door. The smell of food wafts through your nose as soon as you open the door. "Darling is that you?" You hear Hex call from the kitchen. "Yeah it's me." You responded weakly as you set down your stuff and took off your shoes.

You trek into the kitchen, Hex is a sight to behold. He's in an apron, cooking the most delicious meal you've ever seen. "You've been busy." You smile at him. He sighs at you. "So have you! I mean you must be exhausted darling. I just wanted to help out by making you some food so you wouldn't have to deal with that when you got home." He smiles.

You could cry, and you do. He's just so caring and you had such a long day. You sniffle and sob. Hex shuts off the stove and rushes to your side.

He guides your sobbing form to the sofa and gently strokes your back. Once both of you are sat you immediately crawl into his arms and hiccups out a few more sobs. Hex gently shushes, continuing to rub small circles into your back. "Tough day?" He gently prods. You nod silently. "I've got you, I don't want you to worry about anything else tonight." Hex kisses the top of your head.

After holding you for a while you eventually calm down. "Thank you for being amazing Hex. I genuinely don't know what I'd do without you." He smiles warmly at you. "I don't know what I'd do without you, you're amazing and you do so much. I'm just here to remind you that you're loved and I'm extremely proud of you." You squeeze him tightly. " If you want we can take a little nap before you eat? " he suggested. " I'd like that idea." You say as you cozy up on the couch with him and drift off into a nap.

»»————-　☾　————-««

This was not beta read I literally wrote this at work so if there's any mistakes I'm sorry. Hope you enjoyed it! My requests are still open!

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 17

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

If Damen was rougher than he needed to be, it was because he didn’t approve of this plan. Hearing it described, he’d felt as though his body was under a weight, a hard pressure. Now he released Enguerran in the tent and watched him get to his feet without helping him. Enguerran had a wound in his side that still leaked blood. Laurent, entering the tent, pulled off his helm, and Damen saw what Enguerran saw: a golden prince with his armour covered in blood, his hair sweat-dampened, his eyes unsparing. The wound in Enguerran’s side had come from Laurent’s blade; the blood on Laurent’s armour was Enguerran’s.

lamen back at it with the strategic improv. we love to see it

He wanted no part of what was about to unfold.

support your boyfriend’s tactical theatrics, damen. let laurent get a little silly with it

‘I see. So you need me to get inside Ravenel. That is the real reason I am alive. You expect me to betray the people I have served for ten years.’ ‘To get inside Ravenel? My dear Enguerran, I’m afraid you are quite mistaken.’ Laurent’s gaze travelled over Enguerran again, his blue eyes cold. ‘I don’t need you,’ said Laurent. ‘I just need your clothes.’

i love the little moments where laurent explains his plan with like. total seriousness. but the plan itself is something that would happen in a dungeons and dragons game or animated film.

Damen was repelled by the disguise. He had argued against it. The deception was wrong, the pretence of friendship.

going crazy with that nice vs. good theme lately damen. i wonder if there’s some other reason you’re particularly opposed to the idea of disguising oneself and poisoning a friendship with deception at the moment

The brazen audacity of this was characteristic of Laurent, though dressing up his entire troop was on a different scale to walking into a small town inn with a sapphire in his ear, batting his lashes. It was one thing to disguise yourself, another to force your whole army to do it.

As the heavy latticed iron beetled above their heads, Damen found himself wanting it, wanting disruption, a cry of outrage, or of challenge, wanting it as a release to this—feeling. Traitor. Stop. But none came. Of course it didn’t. Of course the men of Ravenel welcomed them, believing them to be friends. Of course they trusted in the face of a deception, leaving themselves wide open.

this is sooooo mean (and clever) of pacat, given the interpersonal stuff between damen and laurent rn

Barrels were upended into a courtyard fountain, so that men could scoop wine out as they pleased.

love this detail

He dispatched men to take Touars’s nine-year-old son Thevenin and hold him under house arrest. Laurent was developing quite a collection of sons.

well someone has to be nice to children in this fucked up world

Then Laurent turned and saw him, and the pressure in his chest grew like pain as Laurent greeted him, half-stripped and bright-eyed. ‘How do you like my fort?’

laurent is especially fascinating as things really heat up between him and damen. it’s part cognitive dissonance, but also… i think damen has changed his mind. i don’t think laurent hates damen anymore. i think everything that seems to have developed between them, actually has developed both ways. even if laurent goes back on it later, and says mean things, damen has at this point completely changed laurent’s initial perception of him. damen is damen, who laurent knows and trusts, and not damianos. that’s where the cognitive dissonance comes in—not in any kind of false impression of damen himself. it’s, again, sad in a different way to read with the context i have. because laurent is being true here, despite the lie, and i just wish they could come by this with total honestly. but that would never have been possible for them, with their history. and the auguste thing will have to be reckoned with, eventually. laurent just has it on ice for now.

All right,’ said Laurent. ‘You see? I’m learning to take your advice.’ He spoke with an unselfconscious little smile that was wholly new.

i don’t think laurent is enjoying damen’s turmoil. i don’t even think he notices it. while he definitely respects damen, laurent still doesn’t expect him to stay past the point of his given freedom. and that’s why he flirts, and is friendly, and fucks him, despite the auguste thing. because it all ends tomorrow anyway, by damen’s choice. so laurent might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

of course, laurent underestimates damen’s devotion, as usual. even when he has sex with damen, i’m sure laurent thinks damen is counting it as just another conquest that he’ll forget about the day after. so it doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t have to matter—which good, because if it did matter to damen, it would matter SO MUCH to laurent as well. and laurent knows that his brother’s killer can’t matter to him, because that would be insane. so it’s good that damen just sees him as 1) partaking in an agreement that he (damen) will leave as soon as he’s freed and 2) a piece of ass. yep. that’s definitely it, laurent. good job.

He said, ‘What will you do next?’ ‘Bathe,’ answered Laurent, in a tone that said he knew perfectly well what Damen had meant, ‘and change into something that’s not made of metal. You should do the same. I had the servants lay out some clothing for you that befits your new station. Very Veretian, you’ll hate it. I have something else for you as well.’ He turned back in time to see Laurent move briefly to pick up a half-circle of metal from a small table by the wall. It felt like the slow push of a spear into his body, the awful unfolding inevitability of it, in front of servants, in this small, intimate room. ‘I didn’t have time to give this to you before the battle,’ said Laurent.

ohhh laurent’s going full delusional here, riding the high of his previous act. but this isn’t an act, not really. but it has to be an act, for laurent to be okay with it. just how laurent performed cruelty in book 1 with hate in his heart, he’s performing affection here with love in his heart. but it can’t be true—it can’t NOT be in some ways a performance, and laurent has made sure of that by keeping the lie going for this long. this man is in a heaven/hell of his own design. it’s honestly impressive how deeply he manages to complicate things for himself. he made his own bed and now he’s getting fucked in it

The last thing he heard was Laurent saying, ‘See to my Captain. Tonight he is to have anything that he asks for.’

HELL yeah he is

‘We are lucky the Prince’s messenger got through with his signet ring,’ Damen acknowledged. ‘What messenger?’ said Torveld.

lmaooo i think the messenger was about loyse’s whole reveal? like VERY long game?

‘I’m a Captain through your help. I owe you a great deal.’ Shyly, after a pause: ‘I told you that I would repay you. You did so much to help me in the palace. And . . .’ Erasmus hesitated, looking over at Torveld. When Torveld nodded that he should speak, he lifted his chin, uncharacteristically. ‘And I didn’t like the Regent. He burnt my leg.’ Torveld gave him a proud look, and Erasmus flushed and made obeisance again with perfect form.

eugh i haaaaaate the way the akielion slaves talk. it’s especially jarring after not having to see them for like an entire book. i know it’s supposed to be off-putting though so job well done i guess

Damen repressed another instinct to tell him to stand up.

buddy you're so close don't repress it!

He looked at Erasmus, the demure limbs and the lowered lashes. He had bedded slaves like this, as pliant in bed as they were out of it. He remembered enjoying it, but the memory was distant, as though it belonged to someone else. Erasmus was pretty, he could see that. Erasmus, he recalled, had been trained for him. He would be obedient to every order, intuit every whim, willingly. Damen turned his eyes to Laurent. A picture of cool, difficult distance confronted him. Laurent sat in brief conversation, wrist balanced on the edge of the great table, fingertips resting on the base of a goblet. From the severe, straight-backed posture to the impersonal grace of his cupped yellow head; from his detached blue eyes to the arrogance of his cheekbones, Laurent was complicated and contradictory, and Damen could look nowhere else.

LET'S GOOOOOO

As though responding to some instinct, Laurent looked up and met Damen’s eyes, and in the next moment Laurent was rising and making his way over.

‘It can wait. You just won me a fort,’ said Laurent. ‘Let me spoil you a little.’

yeah he’s just going all out he knows it’s over tomorrow nothing matters

‘That wasn’t a play against my uncle. That was a play against Nicaise. Boys are easy. At thirteen,’ said Laurent, ‘you could have led me around by the nose.’ ‘I can’t believe you were ever easy.’

an untraumatized 13 year old laurent would have been soooooo fucking weird around damen

‘Torveld tells me that in Akielos, it’s the slave who feeds the master.’ ‘That’s right.’ ‘Then you can’t have any objection,’ said Laurent, picking up the morsel, and lifting it.

laurent i think you forgot who’s the sl—you know what it’s fine they’re roleplaying again

He took a second bite. He didn’t look at the food, he looked at Laurent, at the way he held himself, always so controlled, so that all of his reactions were subtle, his blue eyes difficult to read, but not cold. He could see that Laurent was pleased, that he was enjoying the acquiescence for its rarity, its exclusivity. It felt like he was on the edge of understanding, as though Laurent was coming into view for the first time.

laurent really just said “fuck it i’ve got one night left time to be a freak about it”

Damen’s attention was on Laurent’s ivory and gold colouring, the overfine skin, the last traces of bruising from where he’d been tied up and hit. Damen’s gaze travelled, inch by inch, taking in the proud lift of his chin, the uncooperative eyes, the arch of his cheekbone, and dropping back down to his mouth. His sweet, vicious mouth.

Everything would be simple in the morning.

definitely

‘I thought you helped them out of compassion.’ ‘No, you didn’t,’ said Laurent.

He’d never stood against his father for anything. He’d never needed to, so closely had their values aligned.

damen please keep pulling at this thread and think about why that might be

‘I never questioned the way my father saw the world. It was enough for me to be the kind of son he was proud of. I could never bring shame to his memory, but for the first time I realise I don’t want to be . . .’ His kind of King.

YESSS GOOD JOB DAMEN

Father, I can beat him, he’d said, and he’d ridden out and returned to a hero’s welcome, to have his armour stripped by servants, to have his father greet him with pride. He remembered that night, all those nights, the galvanising power of his father’s expansionist victories, the approbation, as success flowed from success. He had not thought about the way it had played out on the other side of the field. When this game began, I was younger. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Damen.

the apology for auguste… ohhhhh my god. damen you’re having a character development!!!! you’re questioning things!!!!

Laurent gave him a strange look. ‘Why would you apologise to me?’

okay shut up let him have this you know why

He said, ‘I didn’t understand what being King meant to you.’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘An end to fighting.’

:)

‘I wish it could have been different between us, I wish I could have behaved to you with more honour. I want you to know that you will have a friend across the border, whatever happens tomorrow, whatever happens to both of us.’

damen you behaved with an insane amount of honor. and don’t make promises you can’t keep

‘Friends,’ said Laurent. ‘Is that what we are?’ Laurent’s voice was tightly knotted, as though the answer was obvious; as though it was as obvious as what was happening between them, the air disappearing, mote by mote.

Damen said, with helpless honesty, ‘Laurent, I am your slave.’ The words laid him open, truth exposed in the space between them. He wanted to prove it, as though, inarticulate, he could make up for what divided them.

my reading of this line is that damen is admitting his metaphorical devotion to laurent. like forget the cuffs or whatever, he’s just helplessly down bad. not suuuure if that’s the point of the line, though. the last line also implies that he wants to be with laurent as if they're equals, despite the power imbalance, soooo badly that he doesn't even care about the power imbalance

The touch he offered was accepted as it had not been last time, fingers gentle on Laurent’s jaw, thumb passing over his cheekbone, soft. Laurent’s controlled body was hard with tension, his rapid pulse urgent for flight, but he closed his eyes in the last seconds before it happened. Damen’s palm slid over Laurent’s warm nape; slowly, very slowly, making his height an offering, not a threat, Damen leaned in and kissed Laurent on the mouth. The kiss was barely a suggestion of itself, with no yielding of the rigidity in Laurent, but the first kiss became a second, after a fraction of parting in which Damen felt the flicker of Laurent’s shallow breathing against his own lips.

all the little details of laurent’s reactions continue to really touch me. for reasons previously mentioned. the contrast of words like “gentle” and soft” with “tension” and “rigidity” is very good

It felt, in all the lies between them, as if this was the only true thing. It didn’t matter that he was leaving tomorrow. He felt remade with the desire to give Laurent this: to give him all he would allow, and to ask for nothing, this careful threshold something to be savoured because it was all Laurent would let himself have.

a kingdom or this babyyyyyyyyy

do you think laurent is thinking something similar? it seems like he’s been thinking that all evening. this is the only true thing, and damen may be leaving tomorrow, but it isn’t tomorrow yet

They broke apart at the voice, the burst of sound, of nearby footsteps. A head was cresting the stone steps. Damen took a step backwards, his stomach twisting. It was Jord.

is this a lamen hr complaint? they did go somewhere private, it’s more of a jord hr complaint, like he’s at fault here. i won’t count it.

[ember-owlet]

ohhh mr blue 🥺 such a sad but sweet song…do you have a favorite character or any agere headcanons for them? todd and mr peanutbutter would be great cgs (although maybe not together or their kiddo would get stuck on a flaming rollercoaster hahaha), hollyhock is a trauma regressor and i think todd would actually be a flip bcs he does have that childish side to him and would enjoy expressing it with someone who won’t be mean or judge him about it and i think sarah lynn isn’t a regressor necessarily but she never let go of her childhood dreams after everything she went through and when she had the time she would definitely like read space books or architecture books and stuff and imagine things differently…eep sorry for rambling hehe hope ur doing well

you never have to worry about rambling here firelight, when it comes to headcanons or interests i love to hear what you have to say! i know that its hard to find a space to share age regression headcanons for nicher fandoms/shows so i'd never want to dampen that enthusiasm. (and these are some AMAZING headcanons!! i especially love flip todd, i'm glad everyone agrees that he'd be a good cg but he is also the silliest guy. you are also 1000% correct, mr. peanutbutter and todd are a dangerously chaotic duo to keep a little one safe.) /gen

aa thank you for asking!! my favorite characters have always been princess carolyn, todd, diane, guy, and beatrice (for all the same reasons someone would like a "villain", she's a deplorable person and mother but a beautifully written and flawed character).

i realized i'd never fully put down my headcanons to notes before regarding the show, and if i wrote every single headcanon i had this post would be a novel so i made a chart/drabbles! have a wonderful day yourself and i hope you're staying safe.

personal headcanons/rambles under the cut, nothing formal but spoilers for the entirety of the show ahead:

i hope i got everyone, but these are the main ones!

caregivers:

guy

diane's cg, also a familial caretaker for sonny. just the best guy!!

judah

princess carolyn's cg! he is fully aware of how stubborn she can be when regressing to a teen and is just there to make sure she doesn't get hurt.

corbin

honestly one of the most stable cgs (/lh /pos),, in another universe he would've been beatrices' cg and supported her to get help for her trauma.

charlotte

mama cg all the way, she takes care of penny through her vent regression and truth be told her and herb used to be caregivers for bojack once upon a time.

biscuits braxby

a caregiver through and through, for some reason i used to daydream about her taking care of a regressor after the bojack interview and reassuring them that she would make sure they were safe.

ralph

personally, in terms of cgs i think ralph was princess carolyn's cg while they were together, and the role being taken over by judah once they get married as princess carolyn would be hesitant to regress around anyone else (vulnerability to her is scary!!)

vanessa

canonical mother for the win!! she just gives judgemental coworker that means well but would take care of someone if needed (but doesn't mean they're getting out of it without being teased a little)

kelsey

another canon mom!! she just seems really sweet and means well despite her firm demeanor when working.

flips (cg! lean): todd

beloved!! personally i don't see him as a parental caregiver, but definitely is one of the silliest and laid back caregivers out of the bunch. i could also see him regressing if the environment were relaxed enough but always in a middle headspace. herb

okay. hear me out. i just KNOW herb would've been a good caregiver for bojack along with charlotte, i've been thinking about this for a while now but i really think they'd have been such a healing dynamic for bojack as parental cgs. during that time in his life they were his favorite people even if charlotte knew about how awful he was.

rutabaga

i purely put him down for my friend who had talked about him being a caregiver,, i have no idea what she sees in him but to each their own. /nm /lh

flips

honey sugarman

ah yes one of the most tragic characters in the show. honey to me is a flip purely because i think she became an involuntary regressor after her lobotomy. i am purely going by headcanon than science but i assume losing so many of your functions as an adult would cause her to go to a more simpler state (either by choice or not) to forget the pain of losing crackerjack.

princess carolyn

my favorite flip (/j /lh) to me she already is a canonical caregiver when taking care of so many of the other characters in the show over herself (and being a mother to ruthie). but, if she truly trusts someone enough she'll regress a little to unwind and feel like she can take back her childhood after growing up WAY too fast with cutie and her siblings.

flips (regressor! lean) :

hollyhock

precious girl,, i can totally see her being a teen regressor or cool older sister as a caregiver, i almost was tempted to add her to the babysitter pile as well since her caregiving is a very relaxed style. she relies mainly on her dads for comfort (especially when having flashbacks from living with bojack) as well as having an accepting friend group to let her feel child-like around them.

paige sinclair

totally random and a hot take but i adored her character. she was just so passionate about her job and of course pushy but its the same reason we love princess carolyn. i think baxter would mainly be her caregiver but i think when she is caretaking her style is very whimsical.

pickles

my sweet girl,, totally a regressor with endless energy and interests to keep herself entertained. mr. peanutbutter would do his absolute best to calm her in most situations but after a while let her emotions run their course.

regressor:

bojack

i do not trust this man caregiving for anyone. (/hj)

i don't think he fully understands what regression actually is but tends to fall on habits of wanting someone to care for him and only truly regresses when in an emotional state that brings him back to childhood (aka vent regressing).

most of his long-term partners have seen a form of his regression and have taken on the role of a caretaker.

the only other person that has understood him in his regression without putting a name to it is diane. they're just naturally child-like at times and they don't mention it further than that.

diane

at first didn't understand the concept of regression and thought it was "weird" until researching "inner child healing" to help with her ivy tran novel series.

the only person she truly trusts to fully regress around is guy and he is more than willing to take care of her and make her feel loved and appreciated (she's his beautiful salad bowl /lh)

sarah lynn

my sweet girl pt. 2

even if she doesn't know what regression is i just want to give her a happy childhood,, she deserves to be an architect!!

the way she held herself in the that's too much man episode breaks my heart every time and therefore she is my child now!!

penny carson

my sweet baby girl pt. 3

charlotte is more than willing to be a caregiver/mama again, helps her work through the trauma and grief of what had happened between her and bojack but gives her the space she needs to feel in control of certain situations and then a gentle hand to hold her.

i also think penny wears her mom/dad's oversized sweatshirts to feel safe and comforted when having flashbacks.

beatrice

another character that deserved better!! and to have better coping mechanisms!!

loves to play with a very specific doll that she keeps close to her heart, as well as large elegant dresses that she loves to feel the fabric as she twirls and dances in

in an au that i have corbin and her got married, and though he can't heal her past he is a very stable figure in her life and assures her that she can in fact open her heart to loving again.

babysitters:

mr. peanutbutter

i believe he genuinely wants to help when others regress and becomes extremely enthusiastic about hearing that you can be tiny around him, but is nowhere near responsible enough to be an actual caregiver.

just as distracted as the little one, and just as easily persuaded to get them what they want

anna

will watch a regressor if they paid her (/hj).

was bojack's babysitter in-between takes of secretariat, but wasn't a lasting relationship.

keeps him in line when he becomes fussy or throws a tantrum, but ultimately forgets to also reassure him and that leads to further emotional outlashing.

crackerjack

beatrice's big brother babysitter!!

at least once in his life he's snuck her an ice pop/ice cream to let his little sister have a taste.

wanda

a positive and fun-loving babysitter, was possibly one of the kindest caregivers that bojack had when regressing (and also the one that let him get away with the most).

[thana-topsy]

If you're up for sharing more writing tips, how can I tell if what I've written is actually any good? With writing I get stuck in a cycle of feeling like I'm the next Shakespeare while writing but then I'll look over my work a few days later and absolutely hate everything and think it's the most cringe shit ever, then I'll leave it a bit longer and think eh it's not as bad as I thought but still not great and so on. I feel like being forced to write for a grade during school and having everything be marked and assessed and assigned a particular value has robbed me of the ability to critically analyse my own work in a way that's objective and accurate but also fair and realistic. I can analyse other peoples' stuff till the cows come home but I lose all rational thought when it comes to my own stuff

Adding onto that, how do I get to the point where I can stop looking back at my old work and hating everything and wanting to delete it all? Realistically I know finding fault with my old stuff is good bc it means I've grown and improved from where I once was etc but at the same time I wanna enjoy stuff I've made in the past without cringing every time I read it

Hey there Nony, I wanted to let this one percolate a little bit before answering because I've been where you are. And it's a rough time for sure. But aside from my own experiences, I also wanted to get the opinions of some of my writerly friends in the fandom, too, since everyone is a little font of wisdom in their own right.

So I'm going to share their advice alongside my own, because this is kind of a complicated string of questions you're asking. Long post ahead!

@paraparadigm says to Keep Writing: "Write more. Write so much (and so many different things) that eventually the sheer volume bulldozes over self-devouring ego, comparison twitches, or feeling lost, because you don't yet know your own baseline. Coupled with "read more, read everything, read things you enjoy and things you don't, read for the craft as much as the entertainment." And: "I'd add that when revisiting old writing, it's helpful for me to differentiate between "ew the writing is not as technically solid as it is now" and "ah that's interesting, I guess that's where I was at then, emotionally and psychologically". Old writing is also a sort of archaeological record of your younger self, and that can, in fact, be a bit itchy to revisit, so learning to cherish that without passing judgement can be really helpful. I try to treat it like those little marks one puts on the door jamb to track a kid's height."

@mareenavee says "Part of it is writing more, as Para said and I will always second that. Another part is, honestly, the hardest part. It's to try very hard to get out of the habit of negative self-talk.... There's so much work involved with this but normalizing being proud of your work and having some grace with yourself is part of that answer."

@archangelsunited says "Early on, instead of going “this has to be a masterpiece” I would tell myself my only job was to tell a story. I couldn’t tell a story if I was deleting it. Also, talking about your work helps. The less ashamed I was of my writing, the more people wanted to read it. There is a need to hide your work, and that can lead to a downward spiral all its own. And, 90% of the time, you have to suck at something to learn to be good at something. The work you already wrote shouldn’t be the sum of all your skill, it should be one of those measuring sticks for the moment. Despite previous thought, you won’t be stuck at the same level forever."

@polypolymorph says "In addition to accumulating experience via reading and writing, you also have to be willing to reinvent the wheel. Unfortunately the Process™️ is unique to everyone, and even when you are deliberately mimicking a voice as, say, a ghost writer, you can't expect that 2+2=4 for you. Your process might look more like a Lotka-Volterra equation for the same type of work and that's okay. Trial and error is the best way to figure out what advice actually works for you--and if it doesn't, it doesn't mean you're wrong. Don't get stuck on pop writing advice like a sad roomba does on an upturned rug. Learn when to throw it out."

So there's some advice from some other excellent writers! I hope you've been able to find some value in their advice, because it certainly kicked me in the pants a few times.

As for me, I think, having been where you are, my biggest piece of advice is: Find joy in the craft. Get curious instead of critical. An artist shouldn't down themselves over a rough sketch when they're working out a drawing, so why would a writer do such a thing? Everything you write is practice. Everything you make has value because it builds up to the next thing you make.

At the end of the day, you are the only one who is capable of telling the stories that are in your head. This fact alone gives whatever you put onto paper value, regardless of quality. You are creating magic, in the most literal sense! Creating something out of nothing, conjuring images into someone else's mind from hundreds of thousands of miles away, transcending space and time. It's amazing!

Lastly, my final piece of advice is to just write for fun. Write things nobody else will ever see just because you wanted to get words onto paper. You have to unlearn what was drilled into you in school. You are more than a content creation machine. You are an artist, a wordsmith. And just know that there will never be a day when you look at your own work and say "That's it, I have achieved perfection."

Writing is a life-long journey. Just enjoy the ride!

[chronically-ghosted]

✨ happy new year! ✨

it's not yet 2024 where i am but it is where my love @ravensmadreads is, so happy new year already enjoying january 1st!

i usually overthink around my birthday as i march towards death but you lovely people have really made me think about 2023 as it comes to a close. i feel weird talking about myself (unless im drunk and we haven't started drinking yet so hold onto your butts for that possibility), so i'm just going to say this:

You all changed my life.

there, that's it. if you read this and you think it doesn't mean you, yes it does. not a day goes by where this place, this community does not bring me joy and warmth. i hope you get that job you wanted, or you get that fur baby adoption you've been hoping for, or you get accepted to that school you wanted to, or you graduate with all the honors, or you create the thing you've always wanted to, or you get the baby you've been hoping for, or the person who makes you heart flip says i love you. i'm nervous about next year because it truly feels like a year where anything can happen 🤍

now to the fandom stuff:

i've never done a fic rec list because inevitably, i'm a fucking moron and i leave someone out. i know it hurts when i'm left out of a fic rec list so i never want to do that to anyone here. what follows is a list of fics that spoke specifically to me. the old saying goes is that you don't write fanfic for yourself, you write it for the five freaks on discord that can't write coherent sentences after you publish -- and it's true. fanfic isn't about numbers -- i would much rather write for my five freaks on my discord (where my work has deep, emotional impact for them) than try to write for a large crowd that i will never ever manage to please all at once.

my wish for you in 2024 you all find your freaks. and i hope i'm one of them.

side note: there are a couple fics not on the list because i wanted to highlight fics that i didn't see much on other end of the year rec lists. but @iamskyereads 's Compulsion should be read in graduate programs and @whatsnewalycat already knows i'm going to name my first born child after her for her Psychomanteum. yall rock my goddamn world.

so without further adieu . . . these are the fics i read this year that tickled me pink.

God is a Woman by @wheresarizona the way arizona writes max is entirely unique. i love her descriptions of how cold he is and how he doesn't breathe. i read this and had to rethink everything i ever wrote for max

the impaler by @kiwisbell the dracula x johnathan x mina vibes in this are spectacular. this is a pairing i never thought i'd see much less enjoy so thoroughly. why is older tim being seduced by a younger max so hot??

night one by @haylzcyon this is one of the first fics i read by hayley and she pretty much set the standard for all marcus pike fics moving forward. his endless patience, his flirty attitude, how he see things the reader won't admit, and then the sleeping bag -- god i'd read a thousand more fics about this dymanic

blood & tinsel by @morallyinept so if i tried to list all of my favorite jett fics, we'd be here all night. but this one stands out to me because it's so well built. the description of the vampire "trance" or "glamor" or "compulsion" without using any of those words is INCREDIBLE. plus max is face-meltingly hot in this.

the world turned on its side by @idolatrybarbie this was a surprise that came outta nowhere, but it hit me like a fucking train. bea weaves a story that sticks with you and creates a frankie that makes my entire soul sing.

heat by @wordywarriorwrites okay, listen. the beauty of fanfic is that you can have insane, animalistic smut AND literary level writing. this fic is both. i have yet to come across another frankie abo fic that makes the dynamic more than a reason for the blorbos to fuck like animals. it's so well done, there's so much love here.

in fiction @sin-djarin yall know dieter is my boy so i am VERY particular about how he is written in fic. everyone's interpretation is valid, but for dieter fics to resonate with me, there has to be this special blend of humor, kindness, dorkiness, and a sexiness you didn't expect. this fic is all of that and more.

reminiscence by @projectionistwrites this was one of the first joel fics i read and there's something about it that just . . . feels right, feels natural to Joel. there's a raw honesty to both joel and the reader that just sunk into my chest. the back and forth over the drink, the SMUT, everything is just this beautiful snapshot of two lonely people in the apocalypse.

oct' 19 x ghosts by @trulybetty another author that if i tried to choose a favorite, i simply couldn't. betty created a lovely, lovely world with this one (and the rest of the prompts for this one and her december prompts). i love fics that add a new layer to dieter and this one opened him up in a way that made him glow!

renegade by @eupheme my personal favorite brand of joel is one that comes alive between reader's thighs. more boulder than human until you bring something to the surface. and this totally captures that. im a sucker for a good qz fuck-that-verges-on-love and i adore everything about it.

Dominica by @ohforficsake if you ever need proof that notes do not reflect the quality of a fic, look no further. the language, the mastery of tension, and beauty of these descriptions are one two punches that knock me on the ass. genuinely one of my favorite frankie fics of all time.

wanna bet? by @write-and-buried i debated putting this or her celestial navigation fic on this list, but this one just tickles me. i love it when authors throw in a confident, sex-obsessed dieter now and again and this makes me howl. and the DEBAUCHERY of the statue oh my god!

give it to me @sp00kymulderr okay now to be fair, this review is entirely biased. i genuinely love gideon and all that they bring to this fandom. plus, they let me scream about dieter and then sends me dieter pictures that make me scream even louder. this fic is SO important to me. dieter here is everything i need and want: hesitant, anxious, but so madly in love. if i could wake up in one single fic every day, it'd be this one.

stepwise by @the-scandalorian i joined this fandom through din and this has been, and always will be, one of my top favorites. the evolution of din from being touch averse to LUSTING after it, it kills me. it's a oneshot but so much is accomplished in such a short time. the writing here is simply superb.

salvatore by @devilmademewriteit i came for the premise, stayed for the smut, and continued for the banter. i go back to this one all the time for inspiration with my own writing and then i get sucked in and read the whole thing through -- twice. javi drives me absolutely wild in this.

a whole new can of worms by @hier--soir i accidentally read this out of order initially, but this was just reason for me to reread it from start to finish. fwb!joel can be really hit or miss for me, and primarily because this fic sets the standard. this feels like a real joel, a joel that has lost and found loved ones all through out his life and now in jackson, he can finally relearn what it means to be a lover. so good, so fun with the banter -- and the friggin' greenhouse scene -- woof!

telltale heart @astroboots i am a SUCKER for 'frankie fixes his life' fics and this is one of the best. there are consequences for his choices in colombia, one that almost has him lose his family, and the woman he loves. this a real, genuine struggle for two people to overcome a seemingly impossible challenge in their marriage. you know the phrase, love conquers all? yeah this is that fic.

brand you in the way it counts by @charnelhouse charnel was one of the first authors i read for the pedroverse -- and i mean i READ her. i read every single one of her fics at least twice and this one always sends me over the edge. it's such an inspiration to my own writing and i keep going back to her whole body of work to be reminded i can always improve my own writing

west by @radiowallet when people want to know why fanfic matters, i want to show them this fic. it is achingly beautiful and written with a loving and gentle hand. joel is a messy, broken man but still capable, still good, still wanting to find love in this and i adore everything about this. Oneshots can be more devastating than multichapters because they end and this is one of them that drags me back to it constantly.

And to that weird little dude out of Chile who has no idea how much light he brings to the world…

Much love, Taylor 🤍

[abcwordsurge]

hello my good friend mx surge! what kind of music do you like/prefer, genre-wise? got any favorite songs? and then can i get some favorite lyrics? smile! and. tell me what characters/stuff the lyrics make you think of if you'd like to go that far! doesn't have to be any characters I'd know about or even any at all. i am Curious <- all /nf! do as much as you like. i love asking questions and hearing your thoughts 🫡🫡 —marley

hello my wonderful friend marley! eeee I love talking about music. this is gonna be a long one

(disclaimer: I am admittedly Very Bad at genres, so I'm gonna give you artists and maybe you can decide for yourself what genres they are)

AJR is a big one, I could talk for days about AJR. they're one of the only bands I've been to a concert for (very very good concert, very fun, very dramatic, highly recommend, they are clearly showmen, not just musicians, and that makes for entertaining shows). I'm unironically following someone on tumblr who posts ONLY AJR stuff because every time I see the name "AJR" it's like a visceral reaction that makes me grin. ooh, also Twenty One Pilots. I love then. looking forward to their new album

I listen to a lot of broadway. some of my favorites are Be More Chill, Mean Girls, Six, and Titanic the Musical, just to name a few. I love seeing live shows especially- I saw Something Rotten not too long ago, and the Nick was BRILLIANT it. was, admittedly, a high school production, but nonetheless. he danced a lot, even unchoreographed dancing in the background, just like, vibing, and it was so obvious that he was just having a good time and enjoyed being there (the actor, that is, not the character) and I just liked watching him

oh, and Sleeping at Last! I first discovered them by their Atlas: Enneagram album, because I'm a nerd and adore personality tests (I'm an INTP and a 5 in case anyone was wondering), but I've been slowly absorbing the rest of their music, and it's all so beautiful

favorite songs... hm. I can't not say "2085," the closer to AJR's most recent album, and perhaps the most emotionally devastating song they have released as of yet (which is really saying something). best lyrics from that song are undoubtedly the last bit, where they say "you gotta get better, you've all that I got," then it gets softer and the lyrics change to "I gotta get better, I'm all that I've got." HEARTBREAKING /pos. I mean, I like that part enough that I wrote a whole fic inspired by it. one of my very few angst fics. "All That I've Got," a Minnesconsin fic (link here if you're curious). by the way, the first song of that album, "Maybe Man," is also a banger, highly recommend

I love "96000" from "In the Heights" (I think it's only in the movie version, not the musical version? not 100% sure though). ooh this song makes me crazy. this song... ok. I can't talk about this song without being a bit weird about it, but stick with me. this song always makes me think of the people on the Titanic. I read a book once with fictionalized versions of a few of the Titanic's officers and crew members, and once I was listening to this song and when it got to Sonny's verse, all I could think about was how exactly it matched fifth officer Harold Lowe's vibes. it's not really the lyrics, but several of the verses just remind me of various crew members' vibes. and it's. it's just a great song

"Air Catcher" by TOP. that's another wonderful song. always makes me think of Iowa to Wisconsin, for no particular reason. best lyric is "I don't believe in talking just to breathe," which is an idea that always appealed to me

Tyler Joseph is a BRILLIANT lyricist, actually. other great lyrics by him:

"our words are loud but now I'm talking action" (Neon Gravestones)

"for us to think is to be alive / and I will try with every rhyme / to come across like I am dying / to let you know you need to try to think" (Car Radio)

"death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit" (Heavydirtysoul)

"haunted by a couple big mistakes / she covers all the dents with the way she decorates" (Redecorate)

"like an "I love you" / that isn't words / like a song he wrote that's never heard" (Shy Away)

I love "despair" by leo. always makes me think of florida talking to loui (in a queerplatonic way, of course). another great floui song is "Tightrope" from The Greatest Showman, but I picture this one as loui to florida

holy moly this is even longer than expected. I'll leave you with this for now. you've probably gotten a good grasp of my taste by now haha. thank you sm for the ask, I had a delightful time answering :D

[tapwrites]

How to Start Writing Fiction

Many readers feel the urge to write at some point. But getting started can be daunting. Do I need to build a world for years like Tolkien did? Do I need write it all at once? What structure do I need to use? What do I need to do to write a successful novel?

When you're new to writing, the key first step is... throw all that stuff out the window!

Writing isn't publishing. Writing isn't success. Writing isn't making money. First you've got to be able to write without any of that. If you're lucky, maybe those things will come for you. But you cannot control those things. And so, there is no "way" to make them happen.

Your sole focus should be on what you can actually control--on writing as an activity...

In the early days, you may feel discouraged at not writing amazing stuff. But don't be so harsh on yourself. Think about your favourite book. Do you think it came out as amazing and perfect as it is when you read it? I can tell you for a fact it wasn't.

It came out with glaring flaws and huge issues and grammar problems and all the rest of it--just as yours will. They then spend months, even years polishing it, redrafting, revising, editing, using feedback... to turn it into something that looks like it just "came out that way" effortlessly.

Think of what you first write as a first draft, not the final version you'd see on the shelves for the world to see. When you start writing a new story, your job is to throw down messy blobs of clay--simply getting raw material on the table so you can work with it. Later you'll shape it into something pleasing to the eye... something that looks like it just fell out of the sky fully formed, painted, and glazed into its beautiful final form.

You don't know how to shape it yet. You will, over time. But for now...

All your focus should be on throwing down messy clay.

And by that, I mean, get used to writing new stuff. You don't need it to be good, you don't need it to be the next hit, you don't need it to be long. You don't even need others to see it! You just need to be able to write words.

Writing short pieces or short stories is a great thing to aim for at the start. Nothing fancy. That way when you want to improve later down the line, you'll at least be able to write something new to try out what you've learned. You could even make a new draft of something old you wrote with your new understanding.

But then... even knowing how to begin that stage can be daunting. How do people write? It varies.

Every writer has their own process, their own methods, their own style. There are generally considered two extreme ends to the method of writing:

Discovery writers make stuff up as they write the story. If you don't yet know what your preference is, I'd recommend starting here.

Just sit down, put pen to paper, and write what pops into your head. Find out what comes next as you write it.

Note, you don't have to put literal pen to literal paper. But "pen-or-pencil-to-paper, or finger-to-key, or voice-to-dictation-software" isn't nearly so pithy. However you like to record words, record them! XD Don't worry about what medium to use, what equipment, what software... use whatever is easiest to get out of the way and get on with writing!

A good way of getting started with this is an exercise: Freewriting Exercise to Stretch the Writing Muscles This gives you a short challenge that forces you to stop worrying about what comes next and if it's good and how to publish it and stuff like that... put all those aside, and get into the flow! Just start writing!

Give it a good try at least. Even if you don't turn out to be a discovery writer, being able to get into the flow of writing is still going to be a valuable skill as you progress.

And you may come up with new ideas for full stories, and start on those!

If you're finding you lock up in the face of the infinite possibilities of making-it-up-as-you-go... you may want to try a little outlining.

Outline writers make stuff up before they write the story.

So... they still sit down, they still put pen to paper, and they still write what pops into their head. But they don't do it in prose form. They do it in outline form. Then they turn their outline into prose form later.

This might be bullet points of important plot beats. It may include summaries of various characters and world elements.

I'd recommend just dipping your toe in before going full-bore into being an outliner. Somewhere else, just write a short line for something that will happen in the scene after the one you're writing. Or a short line about what happens at the end. You don't need to stick to that plan. It's simply a little pointer to give you just enough direction to not feel lost while writing.

Outlining can be a lot of fun by itself though! You can spend hours, days... years noodling with worldbuilding and moving plot points around, and never actually writing any of the story at all!

The problem is, it can be too fun. You can feel productive while actually spinning your wheels in worldbuilding-land. Getting stuck like this is referred to as (thunder sound effect) "WORLDBUILDER'S DISEASE!!!" (evil laugh)

Remember that writing isn't worldbuilding. Writing isn't outlining. Those can be part of your process. But...

A writer is a storyteller

You can do all the worldbuilding and outlining you want to and still be unable to write that story, because you have no practise writing.

So please, please, practise writing. Whether you're an ouliner or a discovery-writer, you still need to actually write to get started as a writer.

It can even happen that you have great fun outlining a story, but when you try to sit down and put pen to paper all that drive and fun has left you.

You may think, "How could I do such a grand vision justice?" Or, "Writing the story just isn't as fun as inventing the world and what happens!" "Am I destined to only make up worlds and outline things but never write a real story?"

These are telltale signs your brain enjoys discovering new things the most. That's probably what made outlining and worldbuilding so fun! But it also means that when you come to writing the story itself, you're no longer discovering anything, no longer imagining new things on a blank map of possibility...

Now you're following a very narrow route you've set for yourself and feel like you can't put a foot out of place because it's so carefully constructed that it could ruin everything if you do!

If you recognise that feeling, back off from outlining. You're probably a discovery writer. Sure, you can just worldbuild and outline for fun. Nothing wrong with that if you enjoy it. If your goal is to write stories, however, you've got to dial in that balance of planning and improvising that your brain likes.

This is why every writer has their own way of writing. Their own routines, their own process... it's whatever method their brain likes that also lets them get a story down.

So this is how to get started writing. To write stories. To figure out how you like to write.

When you've got past that point, and you're comfortably writing new stories... still try to hold off from wanting to become the next hit author and write the next epic fantasy or 5-book series. You can get to those if you want to, later down the line.

To even get published in the first place, you'll need to not just be a writer, but a good writer. So next, focus on becoming a good writer.

A good writer isn't publishing. A good writer isn't success. A good writer isn't making money. Those things do not define who is a good writer and who is not.

A good writer crafts the experience of the reader

You can only do that if you a) know what experience you want the reader to have, and b) know how to use language to shape the reader's experience into what you want it to be.

How can you do that? It's actually fairly simple. I have another article about the different things you should be doing to reach this next step: How to Become a Better Writer

So start your writing journey today, and I'll hopefully see you over there soon :D

[lokilysolbitch]

witchposting. my witchcraft learning method for new subjects/topics is: less than barebones research, poke my foot at it, read approximately one (1) book, play around with the topic in practice until i start having personal views about it, and at some point read more books for extra tips, to compare experiences, etc. i will explain the details of these steps in a minute

i need to have hands on experience for things to make sense or to help me learn meaningfully and i think a lot of people work this way. reading a bunch of books before you get hands on experience is (USUALLY) not very helpful. the words on a page won't have much meaning to you until you've seen the topic with your eyes and held it in your hands. it's better to have met a dog before trying to learn dog's body language from a book. you end up memorizing instead of learning

anyways. my steps:

i'm going to use poetry as an example and i'm gonna pretend this is my first time learning what a poem is. let's say i saw a youtube comment saying that they read a good poem that made them feel something. i saw this new word for the first time and figure i want to try making one.

less than barebones research:

i go on google, tumblr, tiktok, etc and search things like "poem" "what is a poem" "poetry". maybe even a baby book on poetry made with those thick cardboard pages. this is not any sort of in depth research. this is my first time hearing of a poem. i just need to know the very very basic idea of what a poem could be, how people view poems, things like that. in life this step would be equal to just hearing a phrase thrown around in general but of course with witchcraft, most people are not going to be talking about these things out at the family dinner or your friends birthday party. so this information is not meant to be gospel. it's just to expose yourself to the concept.

poke my foot at it:

this is where i make a half assed attempt or even just consider the concept of making a poem. do i think it sounds interesting? what would i write about if i made one? do rhyming and rhythm seem difficult? maybe i might write a line or two and see how it felt or if any part of it was easier or harder or more vague than i expected.

at this point you're coming up with questions and things you're curious about. so when you formally learn about more, you will naturally pick up on information that is useful to you. it makes formal learning more interesting because you have specific goals on what you want to get out of it. it's like how game tutorials are overwhelming and confusing at first, but once you play a little and realize what prizes you want out of the game, you'll care more when you're showed how to get them.

read approximately one (1) book:

the book number is optional of course but usually my little ADHD brain taps out after one book and won't read on that topic again for months, so i stick to one. i look around to find what book will have a good amount of information without being pretentious and hard to read, or too flowery to the point most of the words are meaningless. i only have one change for the next few months to finish a book so i try to find a good one.

play around with the topic in practice until i start having personal views about it:

at this point i have a good amount of general knowledge on poetry. maybe i don't know the big fancy stuff but i know about literary devices and tips of writers block and such. i have probably heard of a few specific types of poetry that seemed interesting that i could poke my foot at later.

at this point i just start writing. i try a poem writing technique i learned from the book. i try to make up my own. i write good poems on purpose or on accident. i wrote bad poems on purpose or on accident. i basically am sticking my hands in it and messing around and trying things to see how they feel. after a while i start to learn what i like, what i think is still confusing, what i think the book may have been wrong or biased on. i'm gaining personal experience and from that my own opinions that i may change later. i have experienced enough that i can discuss it without just repeating what i heard in books and i'm probably seeking out other peoples opinions to see if i could learn something from them. this is where the most useful learning comes from. maybe the book said to brainstorm one way but i learned that it didn't work with my autism or adhd or ocd or something. maybe through experience i learned a new way to brainstorm and want to challenge the idea that there's only one way to.

at some point read more books for extra tips, to compare experiences, etc:

eventually i get back to reading. i can either read on nicher poetry topics and start this whole process again. or i read more basic/general books to remind me of tips i may have forgotten about or to give me new ones. i read to learn more about other people experiences. i read more to see how much i've grown. i read more for inspiration. i read for lots of reasons

of course there's more nuance like if i do a basic search and learn something is dangerous or is sacred to a specific group im not in or initiated into, i will do more research to make sure that's true and to figure out if i should do it or not. but my main point here is that the general attitude in the witchcraft sphere is that you need to essentially need to read a million books before trying things so you don't make a bunch of mistakes. but some people like me are anxious and perfectionists and will get paralyzed trying to memorize all these books so nothing ever goes wrong ever. and sometimes you learn that to get out of that trap you need to close the book and make mistakes, sometimes on purpose. you don't learn how NOT to make mistakes, you learn how to get up from them.

you were doing witchcraft back when you were a kid and putting dirt and dandelions in a jar because your friend said it would grant you a wish, and hoping for the best, whether you got it or not. and reading a bunch of books doesn't make that any fancier or more polished. it has always been about you, your intuition, and what you have in front of you