#bonus: stories of validation in the comments
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honestly genuinely think a lot of writers here on tumblr have lost the plot more than a little. like if your writing for external validation, ie begging for comments and reblogs or saying kudos/likes mean less, i really believe you need to take a step back and reexamine your relationship with your writing. of course we all love to hear how much someone likes our work- we’re human- but the incessant posting and polling about comments and how “no one comments anymore” is starting to give entitlement. you aren’t owed engagement. just because you’re choosing to put the your work out to the public sphere, whether it’s here on tumblr or ao3 or wattpad or literally anywhere, for free and explicitly for others entertainment doesn’t mean they- the strangers on the internet- owe you anything. they don’t owe you a like, a comment, a reblog, a favorite, a bookmark- they don’t have any obligation to you. if you’re posting and immediately concerned about engagement metrics you’re no better than any tiktok or instagram content creator.
#it actually makes me want to engage with your work less#like I really don’t get this recent uptick in writers begging for comments#and that one post going around about people giving/having literary critics about fanfic?#that annoyed me too like c’mon guys you really can’t have it both ways#either you want people to meaningfully engage with your work or you don’t#and I really truly believe it’s the second one because it’s giving you just want praise#because no one wants ‘unsolicited criticism’ in the comments only what the reader liked about it#you just want validation- which is normal! I too like being told I’m doing a good job at the thing I love doing- but some people are taking#this to an extreme that’s like…..almost alienating to a degree because 99% of the time it’s about fanfic and that inherently means fandom#spaces and fandom comes with a lot of connotations and expectations of behavior that can be both intimidating and ridiculous#like idk man reading and writing is supposed to be cathartic and freeing not an obligation it shouldn’t be expected of readers to keep a#notepad full of bullet points to write an essay in the comments about why they liked the fanfic they just read#idk whatever#nothing is gonna change about it ik but it’s just……#idk#I wanna say annoying is the best word to describe it but it feels more than that#like personally I don’t write because I feel like I need to share this thing I made with people that might like it#I write because I’m never as unhappy as when I can’t express the million little ideas I have a day#I write because I love the process of writing and the places it can take me#I don’t need anyone else to agree with or like the same idea/story I’m excited for#and if I do share whatever it is I’ve written it’s a nice bonus to have people just as excited about it as me#but tbh 90% of what I write is never shared because I just….. don’t care to#I don’t need that external validation some other writers on here seem so desperate for
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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 ( 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 !! )
𝟭. improve your writing skills ( ✒️ )
i feel that not everyone has the perception of how important it is to know how to write. you don't have to be a poet, nor the new emily brontë, but fluid, conscious, rich writing makes the difference. really. you could write a page without saying anything at all, but if that damn page is written good and smoothly, then you can be sure that you will get extra points. take the time to improve your writing skills, the best advice i have for doing so is reading. read as much as you can. read novels (non-fiction in this case doesn't help because the content is preferred rather than the form), read contemporary authors – you don't necessarily have to read sophocles' tragedies, but read quality stuff. expand your vocabulary, your knowledge of syntax, learn to use punctuation! and then write, tell stories, write love letters, write reviews of films, books, cultural festivals, open a blog on tumblr and write to practice, reread what you write ad nauseam, until it is perfect, until the form of your essay is pulitzer prize worthy.
bonus some of my favourite authors (tell me in the comments about yours!): ian mcewan, banana yoshimoto, haruki murakami, george orwell, josé saramago, albert camus, khaled hosseini, hanya yanagihara
𝟮. develop critical thinking ( 💭 )
if you have always studied passively by absorbing information and vomiting it onto a test sheet then you have wasted your time. taking on information is not enough, you need to know how to rework it and develop your own idea about it. especially in the arts and literature one may disagree with certain information provided by a textbook. developing critical thinking is not easy, especially due to the school system that teaches us to standardize thinking. always consult all available sources on a given topic, compare them, analyze contradictions. it might be difficult and tiring – our brain spends more energy processing two conflicting pieces of information than processing two pieces of information that agree – but it will be worth it. by practicing critical thinking and improving your argumentation skills, you will not only be able to improve in your studies, becoming able to present complex topics and make interdisciplinary connections, but also in daily life, you will become much less influenced and manipulated by external information.
𝟯. find yourself an interest ( 🌷 )
it could be anything, but find an interest that excites you and you enjoy and do research about it. watch videos, documentaries, read articles. it doesn't have to be school-related, it must be an external topic that you are passionate about and that allows you to rediscover the joy of studying and learning every time school seems to suffocate it. sometimes i'm not in the mood to study for exams, so i dedicate myself to my personal research and finally find my spark, my seek for knowledge. for example, my interest is true crime, it has always fascinated me since i was little, but yours could be wild animals, makeup, comics, ships, planes, ocean flora, literally anything. there is no constraint.
𝟰. analyze your mistakes and recognize your wrongs ( 🫒 )
there is no shame in making mistakes. everyone makes mistakes, we are human, but the real sin is getting bogged down in mistakes, refusing to acknowledge them, and continuing to make them again and again. we should be continually growing, continually discovering ourselves, both intellectually and emotionally. how many of you were the "gifted kid" when you were little and then grew up into burned out high school / uni students desperately seeking academic validation? there comes a time when talent isn't enough, you have to put in the effort, and this doesn't make you less intelligent or gifted, in fact, quite the opposite. dedicating time and attention to your personal and intellectual growth also means having to ruminate on your mistakes. it's scary, but it's the most effective way if you really want to improve. take a notebook and at the end of the day reflect on the highlights and the wrongs, what you could have done better, where you would like to push forward tomorrow, what you achieved today. did you make a mistake? first ask yourself why and then look for a way to solve the problem, make every bad moment a lesson, a brick on which to build the version of you you wanto to become tomorrow.
𝟱. don't be afraid of doing researches ( 🧃 )
the amount of fake news and misinformation online is appalling. opening any app like tiktok or instagram we are inundated with information that is often (not always, but not so rarely) inaccurate. don't be afraid to conduct your own research, if you have time to mindlessly scroll through tiktok you will also have five minutes to read an article regarding that information provided. don't know the meaning of a word? look it up before using it. not sure about a piece of information? check it before using it in your argumentation. in the age of immediate access to data we have no excuse to be superficial.
𝟲. master communication ( ♟️ )
mastering communication is essential in both personal and professional realms. it's the cornerstone of building meaningful relationships, whether it's conveying ideas effectively in academia or fostering connections in the workplace. developing strong communication skills not only enhances your ability to articulate thoughts but also empowers you to listen actively, empathize with others, and resolve conflicts constructively. ultimately, honing these skills cultivates confidence, credibility, and success in all aspects of life.
𝟳. push yourself out of your comfort zone ( 🧸 )
build your confidence. confidence is uncomfortable. don't be afraid of it. you are young, this is the right time to experiment, take risks, discover who you really are. this is the best time for you to do those things that you would otherwise never do, you don't want to regret later in life that you didn't accept that scholarship, that trip abroad, that job opportunity, because you didn't feel comfortable enough. do things that take you out of your comfort zone until everything becomes your comfort zone. go on solo dates, be a social butterfly, tell the girl at the bookstore you love her t-shirt, go to the theater alone, eat at a restaurant alone, take that trip. if it goes badly, you'll only have one funny story to tell.
𝟴. stay informed about the news (but not too much!) ( 🌍 )
this might be controversial, but: stay informed about the news, just don't overdo it. personally, i am an easily influenced person and i realized that being constantly exposed to the bad things happening in the world had drained me and made me terribly depressed. don't get me wrong, you need to be informed about what's happening in the world and in your country, just being constantly surrounded by horrible news repeated ad nauseam on TV programs is of no use. be aware.
#college#education#school#academia#note taking#student#study aesthetic#study blog#study inspiration#study motivation#academic validation#chaotic academia#light academia#dark academia#university student#architecture student#i should study#study tips#student life#study notes#studyblr#studyinspo#studyspo#uni student#university life#uni life#university#smart#be smart#become smarter
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‘CAUSE IT’S YOU | L.DH

TITLE: ‘cause it’s you PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader GENRE: hits different bonus, slice of life, fluff, smut, established relationship, relationship development, christmas, meeting the parents SUMMARY: it’s been 3 years since you met, two since you started dating, but haechan still hits different. or; you and haechan spend your first real christmas together WARNINGS: smut, unprotected s*x (mc is on the pill), vibrat*r, getting caught, exhibitionism, edging, f!nger!ng, overstimulation, squ!rt!ng, dirty talk, praises, female joi, masturbati*n (f&m), voyeurism, n!pple play, the usual switchy dynamics, cheesy-romantic-love making, lots of kisses, l-bombs, aftercare, mentions of minor character death (before i get called a dumb bitch in the asks for not putting this), dealing with a loss and trauma, bi!haechanxbi!reader WC: 22.563k A/N: our favorite emotional support boyfriend is back! This was supposed to be a gift for the 4k followers this summer, but I didn’t finish writing it and I decided to give you tooth-rotting Christmas fluff and smut instead of another summer (on the coaAaAast). I’m excited and scared for this because when I was writing HD I wanted to show more after they got together (but it was too long), and then the story was such a hit (and felt complete anyway) that I wasn’t sure I wanted to write another part (or it was needed). I’m happy I didn’t finish it this summer because when I sat down for that, I feared I was right; it felt plotless, and I felt I was adding nothing to the story. Until I thought of this. I’m proud of how this came out because I feel this still has a valid plot and showcases the changes in their dynamics well. But since this is not supposed to top the original (it can’t) and I see it more as a bonus that’s optional to read, please take this as my 5k followers and Christmas gift for you! If you hated the mc in HD, this one is for you! I hope you can enjoy this, please let me know with reblogs (they help reach more people), comments and asks what you think about it! happy holidays ♡

“Where the hell are my panties?” You mutter under your breath as you look through the messy blankets with no success.
“Babe, please,” Haechan mumbles, trying to push the sheets on his body and don’t freeze with each one of your tugs.
“You know, you’re the reason I can never find my clothes, but you still never help me,” you groan, stopping to stare at him with your arms crossed.
He raises a brow, and then his usual smirk curls his lips. “Three years and I still fuck you that good, you should be grateful.”
You groan loudly before grabbing your pillow and hitting his face, eliciting a loud grunt. “You’re so annoying!”
“Damn, laugh a bit,” he jokes, wrapping his hands around your body and pulling you flat on top of him. You’re face to face, his sleepy golden-brown eyes staring into yours and his lips pouting to leave wet kisses on your face.
“Hyuck,” you complain, trying to pull away, but he flips you over, trapping you against the mattress, and going on with his sweet torture.
“What? You’re not in a rush anymore,” he whispers as his kisses get less messy and move down on your body. “Can’t be lazy with me some more?” He lifts his hand up and you see he’s holding your panties.
You gasp offended and he bursts out laughing. “You traitor! I went insane for five minutes trying to look for them!”
“It’s funny seeing you do that every time.”
You pout. “I hate you.”
But Haechan smiles and leans in to leave a peck on your lips. “I love you, too.”
“Give me them!” You scream, grabbing his hand and stealing your panties. “I wanted to make you breakfast, but no, you had to waste my time.” You push him off of you, and he just rolls to the side without complaining, still smiling as he follows you with his gaze. “Now you’ll have to wait.”
He chuckles, moving to get comfy in the warmth of the bed. “Fine by me, I’ll wait.”
You can’t hide the smile on your face, but you try to don’t show it by looking down, letting your hair cover your face, and pretending to be busy with your clothes.
Haechan gets you now. He knows why you were always in a rush and that you don’t need to be anymore. He knows that now, behind your rush, there’s not the need to be as far away from him as possible but to prepare your favorite breakfast and slump in bed together to eat it. It’s just a habit you two picked. He learned you need habits; small things that keep you grounded, small moments you can always count on, and he doesn’t mind it. Actually, he likes it too, you are the calmness he needs in his rough sea.
“Want me to help?” He asks once you’re done, ready to go in the kitchen.
“No, I want to surprise you today. Stay here, I’ll be back soon,” you reply, smiling and sending him a kiss that he grabs swiftly before bringing it to his lips, making you chuckle.
I’ll be back soon.
It sounds wild in his ears if he thinks that just two years ago, every time you walked out of that door, he feared you weren’t going to come back. It’s even more insane when he stops and thinks you two are making it work. Looking back at your failed relationships, it’s safe to say that you both don’t strike as types to make a story last.
Yet, here you are. On the bed, eating breakfast while you discuss your plans for the day. And then you’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth side by side, playfully fighting to have access first in front of the small sink, and then you’re in the shower, no funny business, just a quick wash before going out. Lastly, in your bedroom, you’re getting dressed to go out, picking each other’s fits, and finishing the last touches.
Everything in your house. The one you two now share.
Moving in felt like a sudden move, and when the moment came, Haechan had been the one who tried to stick to his old habits, too afraid that such a big change was going to scare you away. But Mark and Minjeong got more serious, and Haechan was always at your place anyway (to avoid suffocating so Mark wouldn’t hear every time you fucked). Also, as much as you loved the company of the couple, you two needed time alone, so he moved in five months ago.
But all his worries got flushed away pretty soon. You needed stability and your habits, the small things that made you feel grounded. And since you had come to terms with his feelings for him, moving in only solidified your relationship because you could have all that. There was nothing left of the insecurity of your friends with benefits phase, there was something that was planting its roots to grow strong.
Your place is still a temporary solution before looking for something nicer (not bigger, for now, the only family expansion plans are plants, a cat, and a dog).
But it’s yours. The same house you built so hard, the one you kept secret like an oath, the one he couldn’t even step foot inside, is now his too. There’s his guitar in a corner of the living room, his computer next to yours, and the game console under the TV. His clothes beside yours in the closet, his shoes in the hall right next to yours, and his jacket at the entrance. The lamps you bought together, the plants you picked together, and even a big photo of you two framed above the television; Johnny took it without you noticing, and it quickly became your favorite, so it’s there, to let everyone know who lives there.
And most importantly, there’s Haechan. There’s his laugh, filling your nights and days that used to be empty. There are his failed attempts at cooking. The books he tries to read every night, with no success, while you read yours. Just for him to end up with his head on your lap as your fingers run through his hair and you read yours out loud. There’s him hyping you up as you run on your treadmill, dancing and singing around you because that’s training too. Finally, there’s a beating heart to listen to as you fall asleep between two arms that hold you.

“I can’t believe you don’t have Christmas decorations.” This is the tenth time Haechan makes that comment as you walk around the store with the cart almost full of Christmas stuff, and you can only roll your eyes at it. “I’m sorry, babe, but… why?”
“I had nothing to celebrate,” you reply, stopping to look at the garlands, inspecting which one is better.
“Not even last year?”
“We were at your place, and usually Johnny drags me with his family, he knows I will fall into a vertigo of depression if I’m not distracted during this time,” you reply. It’s not painful to talk about it, but Haechan can hear the subtle shift in your voice and the way your eyes avoid his. He learned how to study your smallest reaction, it was the only way he could get deep into you, even after you started being serious, it wasn’t so easy for you to open up.
“If you don’t want to, we can don’t celebrate,” he says, trying to meet your eyes, and when he does, they’re wide open.
“Why? I’ve got you now,” you say, lifting in front of his face the two garlands you picked, putting the right one in the cart once he points at it. “Fuck my family, I’m not alone anymore. And I don’t want to be sad, I want to celebrate, and make my little traditions, have our Christmas.”
A small chuckle leaves his lips at your words, but then he gets serious again. “Are you sure? I always fear you push your limits for me, and I don’t want you to break —”
You stop him with a wave of hand. “Hyuck,” you say, smiling at him. “I’m fine. I’m better than I’ve ever been. I want this to be special. I’m not making your family come over to an empty house for the holidays.”
His eyes widen. “Wait, you’re sure about that too? My mom tends to get carried away and she just —”
“Oh, oh, Lee Donghyuck, are you perhaps the scared one?” You ask with a teasing smirk on your face and burst into a laugh when he blushes and turns his head low. “Oh my God, you are scared of this. You’re shitting yourself, just like when I proposed to move in with me.” You nudge him, but he slaps your arm away playfully, and then you start walking again. “Confess, you liked me better when I was the one that ran away.”
“God no, any version of you, but never the one that slips from my fingers with no warning. It was traumatic,” he confesses, there’s a smile on his face, but in his eyes, you see that thinking about it still hurts him a bit, and you’re so deeply sorry.
“Promise, never again,” you say, kissing his cheek. “So, tell me, what’s so scary about your family?”
He sighs, rubbing his temples before you both look on the shelves to pick the decorations to put on the garlands. “They’re loud and loud… and loud.”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “I like that. What do they do? Talk a lot? Sing a lot?”
“Sing a lot? You don’t want to know what we used to do. One year my sister even had a wardrobe of costumes to perform in front of us, I feared Mariah Carey was going to lose her yearly check.”
You laugh at the image. And then caress his face. “Me, my brother, and Johnny used to do that too. Not with the costumes, I confess we weren’t at those levels, but nobody, I swear nobody, not even the pissy neighbor, could take away our performance. It was unfair because they would always make me play the elf, I was too short between those two giants,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before your laugh gets loud again when you remember something. “One year my brother almost got grounded because he had painted my face green using our mom’s make-up, it was so funny. She was so mad, but he couldn’t stop laughing because of me and Johnny.”
Haechan laughs too, looking at you with softness in his eyes. You’re happy. You’re talking about your brother with a smile on your face, there’s no sign of a small twitch of your lips or the nervous playing with your fingers, just a genuine smile on your face. And you talk about him a lot, all the stupid things you used to do together, all the times he had your back, or when a song, movie, or book reminds you of him. A few months ago, you even showed him a photo book you kept stored under your bed and you talked for hours, some tears fell on your cheeks, but they were different from all the ones before. And Haechan is so happy to see you like this, to feel like your brother is still here with you, now that you don’t act like his death never happened, or his entire existence never happened.
“The three of you were a menace. How did your families survive?”
“I don’t know,” you giggle, looking at him, and smiling fondly. “I mean, without us, their lives would’ve been so boring. We always put a smile on their faces,” you say, and then sadness flashes in your eyes for a bit, but you wipe it away quickly. “You know, I wish that didn’t break my family apart. I wish my parents would’ve, I’m not saying I wanted them to fear losing me too, but at least cared about me more. Put the pride aside and welcome me back in, instead of pushing out their only child. I wish I could have them with me, laughing about the past… I mean, it’s not easy, and you know that I wasn’t like this until a year ago, but… don’t they feel like they’re grieving me too? I think I could still make them smile, I have so many stories about my brother that I haven’t told them yet. He could still live through us.”
“I think they need more time,” Haechan says, reaching your hand that’s standing on the bar of the cart, rubbing your palm with his thumb like he always does when you need support. “But they will search for you again, more than the five texts you share in a year.”
When he tells you that, you’re reminded of something you forgot to tell him a few days ago. “My mom sent me a recipe the other day, I thought she wanted to send it to one of her friends, but she wanted to send it to me.”
“See? It’s a step forward unless she was foreshadowing that she’s going to kill you and cook you in the oven,” he jokes, making you laugh as you playfully push him away.
“You’re always so stupid. Help me pick the last things, come on,” you say, changing the subject.
Yes, you can talk about this more freely, but you still need to chew on it, taking small bites, or else you’ll choke.

You walk out of the kitchen with two hot mugs in your hands, just to find Haechan blankly staring at all the boxes on the floor with a confused expression, and you roll your eyes. “What now?”
He lifts his head, walking toward you to grab his mug and leave a peck on your lips as a ‘thank you’ before he replies. “Don’t you think we went just a bit overboard? It’s too much.”
“It’s not. And look, the tree is already up because you’re the best man ever and you were so quick at putting it together,” you say, batting your lashes, making him glare at you. “What? Can’t even praise you right, now?”
“If you want my soul, I’m sad to inform you, you already have it,” Haechan says, pulling you in a hug before he kisses you again, this time it’s longer and more passionate. You chuckle when you pull away.
“It looks like it’s a lot, but it’s not,” you try to reason. “Most of these are decorations that we need to put on the tree or on the garlands that you proposed we would make, together, as a lovely, madly in love couple.”
“It wasn’t that cheesy when I proposed it,” he replies, grunting and scratching the back of his head.
“Come on, I made you hot chocolate, and the biscuits are getting ready in the oven, we’ll put on some music, and we’ll have some fun,” you say, placing the cup on the coffee table to turn on the TV. “Are you sure you’re not having double thoughts about us?” You ask, stopping midway and looking as his eyes widen.
“What? Why?” His voice comes out as a high-pitched squeal as he feels panic run through his body.
“I don’t know, I thought Christmas was your favorite holiday and I wanted it to be special. But I feel like you’re not as excited as you are for other things and maybe you feel like we’re running or something…” you sigh. “Are you afraid I will disappoint your family? Maybe I’m not enough — I…”
“No, God, no,” he replies, shaking his head. “It’s just a lot, and I was wondering if we could get it all done this weekend, but it has nothing to do with us,” he says, walking to you, cupping your face in his hands.
“Hey, I love you, and I love this. Every little thing we’ve built and we’re building together. I admit I’m afraid for my family. Not a single ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend of mine ever met my parents so, yeah, this is a pretty big and scary step, but it’s with you. And truth be told, I’m not afraid because I don’t think this is serious, or because I think they won’t like you, confession time, my mom loves you already,” he says with a smile on his face. “I’m more scared you won’t like them, and well, that they will scare you away. I know you made some big steps forward, but… you still have your fears, and we both know sometimes they take over and sometimes you fall back into old habits. And it’s fine with me, I know how to deal with them and take care of you, but in this case, it’s not in my power, I can’t control them, and what if they say something wrong? What if they ask the wrong questions? I —”
You shut him with a kiss, pulling him close by the long hair covering his neck. “You sound just like me,” you joke, pulling away. “I know you don’t have control over them, I don’t need you to have it. I hope they can become my family too, and I’m ready to let them in, step by step. I’m so happy you worry so much about me, but I have it under control,” you laugh lightheartedly. “I don’t snap anymore when my brother is brought up, I don’t lie anymore, and I don’t run away. You taught me to always face my fears, right? And that’s what I’m doing. Maybe not all at once. Surely, I will need you to back me up at some point of the night, but I’ve got it, and I’ve got you, and… I’m ready.”
The look in his eyes feels like home and so does the warm smile on his face. “I love you so much. I’m so proud of you, I can’t even explain it in words,” he says, kissing you again.
“I know you are,” you reply, caressing his face. “I mean, the fact you’ve been keeping up with me for three years says it all.”
“Two,” he replies.
“Nah–ah, you’ve been keeping up with my mood swings and fucked up coping mechanisms since you fucked me in your car, or maybe even since we talked that night. I mean, that was my first lie to you, so…”
He chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Mhh, maybe I should take you out tonight and make a stop there, our parking spot. Wouldn’t it be romantic?”
“Mhh, yes, and then we can even smoke weed,” you add, laughing with him. “But I doubt we’ll be free from the Christmas tasks, so maybe next time?”
“Yes, Miss. If my agenda is not booked, I’ll find a spot to slip you in,” he jokes before leaving a peck on your forehead and stepping back, going back to the boxes on the floor.
You can’t control the smile on your face as you stare at him. This is your first holiday together and even if it has been a hell of a month for you in these past few years, you feel your heart explode with happiness right now. After everything he has done for you, you feel like you can finally pay him back, and do something that makes him happy. Haechan always told you how much he loves Christmas. Since he was a child, he felt that, after a year of sacrifices, his family could be together with fewer worries. It didn’t matter if there weren’t many gifts under the tree or no gifts at all, he was happy because his parents didn’t have to work, and they could pretend life wasn’t so hard for at least a few days. He also told you he loved how the cities would light up, and everything seemed better.
“Will you help with the lights, or do I have to do it by myself?”
You shake your head out of your thoughts and look up at him, shrugging. “No intention of doing so.”
“Oh, come on, I will end up tangled in this mess,” he whines, pouting and looking at you with those big eyes you can’t resist.
“Fine, but just because I really like you,” you say, walking to him, grabbing the other end of the lights.
“Only like me?” He pouts as you both start walking around the tree, parting the branches to fit the lights in between them.
“Mhh, sometimes I feel like I can barely stand you, so yeah, maybe liking you is too much, sorry about that,” you joke, making him scoff.

Setting up the place with decorations was the plan, but with Haechan you learned nothing goes as planned. You’ve gotten used to it, it doesn’t trigger you anymore, not that much, especially when you find yourself in this situation. Laying on the floor with him on top of you, kissing along your jaw as his hand creeps under your sweatpants to reach your panties. That’s another thing you’ve gotten used to, the way, after years, you two still can’t keep your hands off each other. It’s surely different from what it was before, there’s no more fear, anger, and destructive passion when you two have sex, but the chemistry is still the same, just healthier.
“Hyuck,” you moan when his finger teases your clit and slit, forcing your head to roll back on the cold hard ground. You could’ve easily moved this to the couch, but it was just easier to be there where you two ended up, the red decorations resting to the side, waiting to be finished. In your defence, you are almost halfway done; the tree is almost done, the small Santa clauses, reindeer, and trees are placed here and there on the shelves, and the strings of lights are running from corner to corner of the living room.
“You’re so wet,” Haechan teases, trails of wet kisses painting your face before reaching your pouting lips, “I wonder why,” he jokes, his typical smirk sitting on his face as he looks at your face.
Another thing you learned by dating Haechan, is that you will never get bored. He’s always thinking about something, coming up with ideas, planning things. He’s not much different from you after all, he simply doesn’t look over a plan more than twice (sometimes he doesn’t even get to the second time). This time it’s not any different. He was looking at you like a puppy that can’t wait to bite a bone, jumping on his seat on the floor as you two decorated with Christmas music filling the background. You know his eyes; when he looks at you without saying a word and just waits for you to catch up as if you can read his mind. You don’t get why he does it since he’s so impatient and surely not shy, but he finds it entertaining for some reason and you play along.
“What?” You had asked, struggling to hide the amused grin on your face when his lips curved in a smile.
“Want to try something new?”
Those five words, followed by a bet to see how long you would last with a small bullet vibrator inside of you before begging for him to give you more, are the reason you’re so wet. You thought it would be funny and he would go gentle on you, but you were so wrong. And it took you less than fifteen minutes to beg for him to make it stop.
“Don’t be so mad, I’m giving you what you want,” he pouts, kissing your puckered lips over and over.
“You’re not. You’re teasing, like always,” you groan.
“Am I?” he grins, pushing your hair back as he stares into your deadly glare. “Fine,” he groans, rolling his eyes back before bringing them back to you. “What do you want?”
Another loud grunt slips past your lips, but you quickly force words to come out. “Your fingers, please,” the last word is filled with sarcasm, and he gives you a stern glare at which you only shrug.
“You’re such a brat,” Haechan mocks, quickly flicking his fingers on your clit, watching with amusement as your eyes roll back and your teeth trap your lips to stop the loud moan to come out. “Is this enough?”
“No,” you whine. “Take the toy out and fuck me,” you order, but you only get a mocking laugh in reply.
“So bossy today. I let you decide so much already, I think you can leave this to me, uhm,” he teases as his fingers keep moving on your clit without giving you more.
You sigh defeated and relax, your shoulders drop back as you decide to just enjoy the sensation of his stimulation, the filling of the toy, and the light vibrations.
Just as he’s about to give you what you’ve been asking for, the loud sound of the doorbell stops you two in your tracks.
“Did you order something?” Haechan asks, hand still buried in your pants but still.
You shake your head, shrugging, thinking it’s nothing and ready to beg him to keep going, but the bell rings again and you huff loudly.
“The neighbor?” Haechan tries to guess again.
“She’s out, she told me a few days ago, it can’t — oh, goddamn,” you huff when it rings again.
But your doubts are soon answered when the front door swings open and your heart jumps in your throat.
“Is it possible that you two never hear the bell ring?”
“Johnny!” You scream, pushing Haechan’s hand away and him off your body roughly, trying to fix yourself the best you can and get on your feet.
“Oh, sorry,” your best friend looks at your dishevelled look with a grin on his face. “Interrupted something?”
You groan and simply throw a pillow at him in response, but it does him no harm as he quickly catches it even if he only has one hand free.
“No, we were decorating.” Haechan tries to save the situation, but you know it’s useless as you roll your head back and sigh again. Johnny’s not dumb, unfortunately.
“Oh, is it a new slang? I didn’t know we call it like that nowadays, interesting,” he teases, walking toward the couch. “I always learn new things from you two.” He kisses your forehead, and you don’t even push him away, but rub your eyes when he passes over you to greet your boyfriend.
“You can’t just burst in with no warning,” you sigh, turning around, watching as he studies the mess in the living room as if it’s his place.
“I rang three times, not my fault your boyfie didn’t think of pulling his hand out of your pants,” he shrugs before lifting his head and smiling at you.
“I’ll change the code, I swear,” you threaten, rubbing your temples.
“And I will still know it in case of an emergency. Just because you got yourself the love of your life it doesn’t mean you downgrade me, hey!”
Another loud annoyed sound comes out of your mouth, and you swiftly catch Haechan going red in the face after Johnny’s words, but you shake it off. “You wait for us to answer.”
“You could’ve said ‘I’m coming’ or ‘wait a second’, you know? That’s what normal people do,” he reminds you, placing the bags he’s carrying on the floor to take off his coat, and placing it on the couch.
“She swears it’s people that want to sell you something, so she looks out of the peephole and then pretends she’s not home,” Haechan explains.
“Bullshits, she wanted to leave her best friend to freeze to death in the corridor,” he dramatizes, lifting a hand on his forehead and faking passing out on the couch.
“You’re so dramatic,” you groan. “What do you even want?”
“It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen each other, and this is how you greet me?” He gasps offended.
“Don’t laugh,” you say to Haechan, who immediately stops laughing and apologizes with a shrug. “I’m sorry. How can we help, my dearest friend?”
“Fake,” Johnny gags. “But I brought you two something,” he says, patting the space on the couch for you to sit and then lifting two bags.
“Christmas is two weeks away,” you say. You already have your gifts, of course you do, but you still need to wrap them up like you want to. So, you hope these are not your presents because you wouldn’t be ready to give him yours.
“I know, it’s not a Christmas gift, it’s just a gift.”
Haechan raises a brow. “For us?”
“Yes,” he replies. “The first one is from my mom, it’s a cake.”
“You should’ve said that right away,” you say, grabbing the box from his hands. “It’s so pretty, and it’s going to taste so good. Thank her!”
“About that, you can do that if you come to my place tonight. I told her you won’t be with us this Christmas, she had a mental breakdown, so please, can you two don’t fuck tonight and come to my place?”
“We’re not perverts, you know,” Haechan scoffs.
“Not sure about that,” Johnny mumbles, and your boyfriend slaps his arm. “What? You two were never able to keep your hands off each other.”
“Look at him, rewriting history. You didn’t notice we were fucking until she told you!”
“Tell him, Hyuck,” you back him up from the kitchen where you’re placing the cake so it can be safe from the mess of the other room.
“Fine, but I still know you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Anyway, can we focus? The sooner I’ll leave, the faster you’ll go back to what you were doing.”
“Yeah, that’s — oh,” you stop, eyes widening when you hear the vibrations pick up again. “We’ll come.”
“I’m sure we will,” Haechan mutters under his breath and you glare at him, silently telling him to don’t even think about it, but he only smiles smugly and shrugs.
You clear your throat, trying to walk back to the couch as if nothing is going on, and urge Johnny to finish this soon.
“And this is a bag full of things my mom wanted you to have,” he says, handing you the other. “I don’t think it’s necessary anymore, you two got yourself a lot of things, but yeah…”
You grab it with shaky hands and look inside.
“Will she cry?” Haechan asks, and at the same time, you feel the vibration stop, which makes you chuckle under your breath with your head low. It’s sweet that he thinks adding fighting an orgasm to a breakdown is not a good idea.
Johnny thinks about it, leaning to the side to look at you, and then hums. “Probably.”
“I’ll take a look at this after, so I can break down crying with him alone,” you say, getting up, and stretching your arms out to hug Johnny. It’s your nice way to tell him you’re grateful, but also, he needs to leave. And it would work smoothly if only Haechan didn’t have other plans.
“We baked cookies, why don’t you stay for a while? What about a cup of coffee too?”
You glare at Haechan again when the vibrations start high, leaving you breathless, but quickly force yourself to smile at your friend.
“Yes, I love cookies and coffee!” Johnny cheers, wrapping an arm around Haechan as he guides him to the kitchen.
“Of course you do…” you whisper under your breath, rubbing your temples and following them in the kitchen.
You sit on a chair, hoping to bring yourself as little attention as possible, and that if you keep your thighs pressed enough you won’t come in your pants in front of your best friend. But Haechan is not exactly helping you, shifting the speed and waves so that you can’t ever get used to the sensation.
“The cookies are amazing,” Johnny moans after a bite and you try to give him a gentle smile.
“Thanks,” you dare to speak out, surprising yourself when you do with no sign of desperation.
“The place is coming together nicely, by the way,” he comments, walking to sit in front of you.
“We didn’t put up a lot, just the smallest things on the furniture,” Haechan comments, “and the tree, but well, we didn’t put on the balls so it’s empty.”
“Shit,” you cry out when he rises the speed, but you quickly play it cool by holding the back of your leg, “a cramp.”
Johnny’s eyebrows are raised in suspicion, not by your poor acting, but because Haechan isn’t on his knees in front of you in two seconds to make sure you’re alright, but he shrugs it away when your boyfriend asks if you need help.
“I’m fine,” you mutter, stretching your leg to keep playing the part and massaging the ‘sore’ muscle.
“So, what time should we be there tonight?” Haechan asks, and you hear he’s trying hard not to laugh.
“Seven, so my mom can annoy you with questions before dinner and then we can start and eat in peace,” Johnny says, thanking Haechan when he brings the coffee cup to the table.
“Your mom’s nice,” Haechan says, “and she’s an amazing cook. She will cook tonight, right?”
“Hey! I’m good too. But yes, she insisted, so the kitchen is all hers,” Johnny huffs, “even if I will hear her complain because my things are not where she would keep them.”
You try to laugh but quickly turn it into a silent giggle when you feel you can’t hold the sounds in easily anymore. Haechan’s hand is not in the pocket of his pants, busy preparing the last two cups of coffee, but the vibrations are stuck at the highest speed, and you’re squirming on the chair, nervously twitching your legs.
“I saw Mark and Minjeong yesterday,” Johnny changes the subject as he suddenly remembers. “We should organize something all together before the holidays. It’s been what? One month now, since we’ve all been out together?”
“We actually hung out with them last week,” Haechan says. “They finished remaking our old place and wanted us over.”
“Y’all are cutting me out of your lives, I don’t like this,” Johnny complains.
You roll your eyes. “We’re not,” you spit out, as fast as you can, so no shakiness slips from your lips. And then mutter a “Thanks,” to Haechan when he hands you the cup and then sits next to you.
“It’s just because it was my place before, they wanted me to see the changes,” Haechan explains. “But I think they’re planning something with all of us soon. They’re just… busy.”
Johnny quirks a brow. “Busy like you two bunnies or busy, busy?”
“Shut up!” You scream, glaring at him. But can you blame him? Right now, you two are proving his point. He just doesn’t know it.
“I’m kidding,” Johnny says, lifting his hands in the air before grabbing another cookie. “I know they are, Minjeong just changed her job, and Mark is Mark. But we should find a free weekend or something, we could even go to my beach house for New Year’s.”
“Yeah, why not,” you force out, one hand slipping under the table to squeeze Haechan’s thighs, telling him to lower the speed, but it’s useless, he acts as if you’re not even there.
“Can I change roommate this time? This one right here is a bit too clingy,” Haechan jokes, pointing at you with his head, making Johnny laugh.
You force out a small laugh, rubbing your sweaty palm against your neck to fill your silence with something.
“Man, I really need to find somebody,” Johnny sighs heavily, letting his head fall against the table theatrically. “You sweet couples make me feel so lonely.”
“Weren’t you going out with,” you stop, pretending to think of her name but, in reality, you’re trying to collect yourself and don’t focus on the pulsing of your pussy. “Hana?”
Johnny lifts his head and pouts. “We fucked.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong. But I’m too old for that, I want to settle down.” His hand points at your living room. “That shit out there? The cheesy lovemaking while setting up the place for Christmas? The way y’all live together? I can’t believe your cold-ass heart got it before me. I was Mr. Romantic, and look at me.”
You chuckle tenderly, caressing his hand, trying not to make it shake. “And… will it just be sex?”
“It’s not even exclusive. But it doesn’t matter ‘cause I broke it off,” he pouts.
“You’ll find someone,” Haechan chimes in. “You are husband material, it’s impossible you’ll stay single much longer.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he scoffs before his gaze falls on the clock. “Shit, I’m late, I have to go,” he says, jumping off the chair and walking to the living room. Haechan is quicker than you at following outside, but you feel like your knees could give up in two seconds, and you keep your hands tight in a fist, leaning against the door, watching him get dressed. “Thanks for the biscuits and the coffee, I had fun. See you tonight.”
“Bye! See you later,” you two greet, waving with your hands after he quickly hugs and kisses you both.
When Johnny is out of the door, you jump on Haechan, and he laughs. “You’re a monster. This is not funny!”
“A monster? You had fun, brat,” he teases, kissing you as he lifts you, walking into the living room, this time laying you on the couch. “And I won’t tease you anymore, I’ll give you what you want. But then we really have to wrap something up here and then get ready for dinner.”
This time he’s true to his word, quickly pulling your pants and panties down before leaning down between your legs, leaving pecks on your thighs before he kisses your clit, making your hips jolt.
A shaky sigh comes out of your lips when he pulls the toy out of you, leaving you empty before his fingers take its place without teasing. Your head rolls behind, this time meeting the softness of the couch, and your hands reach his arms, wrapping around them to hold onto something.
“You’re even wetter now,” he teases, looking down between your legs. Your cum dripping down, making a mess on your ass and his fingers. “You’re such a tease, you know? You can’t even deny how much having people watching or listening turns you on.”
You groan, hiding your face against the couch because all the teasing before already made it impossible for you to properly talk back.
“Look at me,” Haechan orders, but you shake your head. He scoffs, cupping your chin to turn your face around. “You’re such a brat today.”
You scoff, “me?”
“Yes, you,” he whispers close to your face, lips brushing against yours as a tease but leaving you without the kiss you crave so much. “Think I didn’t see you before? Sitting on your heels, desperately trying to get off without me noticing,” he mocks with a chuckle. “I have to say, you were smart, talking to me and distracting me, thinking I’m stupid. But I saw that, angel.”
Your body burns up in shame, and you once again try to hide, but his hold is firm, and you soon give up.
“Is this what you want? Are my fingers fucking you well?” He murmurs, biting your earlobe, making you moan louder.
“Ye-yes,” you cry out, planting your feet against the couch to have a solid hold as you grind your hips against him.
“Look at you,” he mocks, pulling back from your face, letting go of it to wrap a hand around your waist and push it down, eliciting another whiny complaint from you. “I guess they’re not enough if you’re grinding on them like that.”
You shake your head. “They are, I swear,” your voice breaks when his thumb presses against your clit, and your thighs fly shut.
“Oh no, baby,” he scolds, forcibly pushing your legs apart with his hand. “Keep those pretty legs open for me, you’re not going anywhere.”
“Please,” you cry out. “You edged me all afternoon.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. “All afternoon? Damn, sex really gets to your brain. If it’s been an hour, it’s a lot.”
You frown, trying to glare at him, but the furrow on your face only makes him smile.
“Fine, fine. It looks like you really want to come, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you reply weakly, but he doesn’t do anything.
“Just a bit more. You’re just so pretty like this. And your pussy squeezes so nicely around my fingers, these beautiful sounds,” he hums, pressing against your sweet spot, forcing more cum out of you in dirty squelches. And the lust in his voice just pushes you even closer to the edge.
“Haechan,” you cry out, eyes closing as your chest heavies more.
“Use your words, babe. You can do it.”
And you would do it easily if only his fingers didn’t pick up a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping for air as your eyes stare into his, the fake innocence and smugness behind them driving you insane.
“Hyuck, please, fuck, please let me come.”
“Mhh, you sound so pretty,” he coos happily. “Come on, I teased you enough. Come for me.”
And you do, finally letting go of all the pleasure you’ve been holding in for so long; it doesn’t matter if it’s the entire afternoon or just an hour. Your body trembles against his, your thighs would clench if only it wasn’t for his hand keeping you spread open, and your head rolls back as loud moans slip out.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Haechan moans, slowing down the pace of his fingers inside of you once he makes sure you’re done and then slowly takes them out.
“Kiss me!” You order, pulling him closer.
“You’re so bossy today,” he laughs when he moves away from the kiss, and you pout.
“I need you.”
“Yeah, I know.” He kisses you again. “Let me get out of my clothes, alright?” You hum, watching him get up to get out of his pants and underwear before trapping your body again. His lips meet yours, and your fingers run in his long hair, pulling hard enough to make him moan and rut his hips against you, but not enough to hurt him.
“Shit, turn around,” he orders, moving back enough to give you space to move as he helps you get in the position he wants.
When your face presses against the couch and your hips swing side by side, you hear him inhale deeply and mumble a curse under his breath.
“You’re so beautiful,” Haechan comments, hands cupping your ass before he leans in, kissing your neck.
“Please, fuck me,” you beg, ordering in a whiny voice.
“So fucking desperate,” he mocks, slapping your ass before placing a hand at the side of your face to keep his body up. The other grabs the base of his dick, the leaking tip pushing against your awaiting slit.
You moan shamelessly, driving your hips back, thinking he’s finally going to sink in, but he doesn’t. He rubs the head on your clit, making you shiver, tremble and whine.
“Please, don’t,” you cry, but he only laughs mockingly at you.
“Look at you,” Haechan taunts. “How long has it been? One week?”
“Two,” you mutter angrily. “Two weeks.” It’s not about the sex, per se, but you two have been so busy with work lately that you’ve barely had time to be together. Last week, he did go down on you, but it was quick since he had a phone call, and you didn’t even get the after-cuddles you love so much.
He snickers, throwing his head back as he keeps teasing, this time pushing the tip in and out, watching your hole stretch and then clench around nothing. “Sorry, sorry. You don’t want my mouth or fingers, you want my dick. Still,” he lowers, hot breath hitting your ear, “don’t you think it’s a bit pathetic after two weeks to be so desperate for me?”
You shake your head, biting your lips, moving your hips to grind against him and force him inside you somehow, but all with no success.
“Can you humiliate yourself even more, love?” He jokes.
“Hyuck,” you whine, searching for his hand. “Yes, I’m pathetic for you, are you happy now? Can you please fuck me? Or do I have to — fuck!” Your complaint gets shut down when he pushes into you, you’re so wet and relaxed he does it with no struggle, filling you deeply and leaving you breathless.
“Happy now?”
You nod quickly, smiling widely but letting out no words.
“Good, so something does satisfy you,” he groans, head falling back as he holds onto your hips.
You whine, wanting to scream that anything he does satisfies you and that you’re not that greedy, but you let it slip.
And then it comes, his face hides in the crook of your neck and one of his arms sneaks around you, keeping you close. And you love this, it drives you crazy to know you can have the roughest sex and most mind-blowing orgasms of your life while still being loved and cherished so much. You love it so much that you don’t push him away anymore, but let him sink deeper. All over you. Deep into you.
“Hyuck,” you call out his name, hand moving behind to search for his skin, and finding an arm.
“I know, babe, I know.” His lips leave kisses over your jawline, biting softly every now and then, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him. “Am I fucking you good?” He hums, moving your hair away so he can see your face. “Deep and nice, just like you love it?”
You nod in quick motions. Body squirming under his before it stills when you feel the toy press against your clit again and buzz against you. You let out a high-pitched cry, face pressing against the couch as your fingers fist the soft fabric.
“Hush, babe,” Haechan whispers against your ear. “We both know you love this.”
“Yes, but —” the words die in your throat.
“But, what?” He teases. “What’s wrong, honey?” He coos in a patronizing tone, and you groan.
He knows how easily you come when you use any type of vibrator. He has seen you come undone with them so many times you’ve lost the count. And he knows it’s even worse when he’s deep inside of you, hitting all your right spots while the vibrating toy keeps stimulating your sensitive clit.
“You — you know what,” you whine, trying to look back to pity him.
His movements stop completely, and the warmth of his body leaves you except the hand on your waist. “Mh, no, I don’t think I do.”
You whine louder, hips jerking up to urge him to pick up his thrusts again, and he does, snapping in and out of you like before.
“So, you won’t help me? I’ll have to find out the problem on my own?” He teases. “But… you want this faster?”
“No!” You yelp when he puts the toy at the highest setting, making you try to close your legs but with no success. “Hyuck, please,” your voice breaks, tears menacing to run down your face as you feel another orgasm build up in your stomach, fist closing incredibly tight around the pillow of the couch.
“Oh… my bad. Does it make you come too easily?” Haechan says, faking a tone of surprise as he leans closer to you, finally giving you the warmth of his body again. It’s funny how you avoided contact before, and how much you need it now.
You nod swiftly, biting your lips to muffle the messy moans.
“And my baby doesn’t want that?” He pouts, caressing your hair out of your forehead. “You were so mad I edged you for so long and now you don’t — fuck — want to come over and over again?”
You don’t answer, not with coherent words at least, and groan again.
“You can take it, I know you can,” he groans, inhaling deeply as he lifts his body and throws his head back. He teases you a lot but he’s just as sensitive and desperate. Two weeks too long since he had you, and your body is so responsive, clenching and dripping around him, making him go insane too.
“Let’s come together, ugh?” He moans. “Then I’ll fuck my cum deep inside of you and you’ll come just one last time.”
A guttural moan slips from your mouth at his words, the idea of him fucking his cum into you over and over until he’ll fill you up with another load driving you insane.
“Close,” you mutter.
“Yeah, me too,” he groans, “come.”
Your body lets go, orgasm setting free like a trigger, sending shivers down your spine. Your lips are free from the hold of your teeth, not caring if you’re too loud and someone might hear. It feels too good to hold back. Not only for the pleasure itself, but for the way your boyfriend’s hands run on your hot skin, how his moans and whimpers fill your ears, and especially the sensation of his cum filling you up. When his hips still against you, and his whole body presses you down, you’re still shaking from the aftermath.
Your eyes flutter shut when he starts moving again, barely giving you the time to come down from your high.
“You feel so good, I could stay buried in this sweet pussy for days,” Haechan moans, hiding in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and leaving kisses on your skin.
You moan, letting your body relax to the feeling of him being all over you. One arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand roams around your body, caressing your stomach, your boobs, your thighs, everything he can find.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he comments when he lifts his head, not enough to unstuck his chest from your back but enough to look at your wrecked face. “Most beautiful thing in the world.”
You melt at his comments, feeling warmth in your stomach, this time not given by pleasure but love. You are loved, wholeheartedly, completely, and endlessly. Every part of you, every flaw, every masterpiece. Haechan doesn’t leave anything behind. He loves you. Deeply. Constantly. Inhumanly. Because you still can’t believe it’s possible for someone to love so much, especially when it comes to you. But he proves it to you every single day, from the sweet words to these passionate moments.
“Ki-kiss me,” you mumble, pouting until his lips are on yours. The position is a bit uncomfortable but you two make it work anyway. Kissing each other over again, going from deep kisses to pecks.
“Fuck, pretty,” he groans. “You’re taking me so well. My dick stretching you out, my cum filling you up, so much of it we’re making a mess. You love being my messy princess, don’t you?”
You nod. “Yes — yes, love it.”
“I know, princess, I know. Dripping all the way down my balls, drooling on the couch, staining it with your pretty tears.” Now that you’ve opened up to him and cried more than just once in front of him, he loves these tears even more because they are good tears, caused by him not because he’s hurting you but because he’s making you feel good. And he’s obsessed with it, with the way your eyes look. Long lashes clumped together, looking even thicker and longer.
You’re about to beg him to go faster, but he obeys without you opening your mouth. Hips snapping fast against you, body pushing you even further against the soft couch.
A small giggle escapes your lips when his hand searches and then finds your hand, intertwining your fingers while the other cups your ass cheek before leaving a small slap.
“Shit, ever told you I fucking love your ass?”
You hum, nodding. You’d use some words, but the bliss is too strong to let you do anything other than whimpering and moaning. Your clit is swollen, throbbing hard, extra sensitive with all the vibrations of the toy before, and each slap of Haechan’s balls against it leaves you gasping for air.
Your hips squirm away, there’s not much room to go since your head is already pressed between the seat and the armrest, but you still slip a bit forward and Haechan chuckles darkly close to your ear.
“Running away, sweetheart?” The condescending, saccharin-sweet tone makes more shivers run down your spine, toes curling up and stomach twisting.
Your head moves in incoherent movement, and your hand holds his tighter for support. You feel like your head is spinning, and if it seemed like a good idea to keep the sweater on, now it feels like hell is on your skin.
“You can take it, can’t you?” He asks, voice genuinely sweet this time, but his body is not more clement with you. The harsh sounds of his pounding are still filling the room, drowning out the Christmas music that’s still playing on the TV — thank god the playlist moved to an instrumental one, or some classics would be ruined forever with these filthy moments in your mind.
You nod, but he’s not happy with a non-verbal question. Unless you’re fucked out, completely fucked out, he wants to hear your voice when he asks if you can take more.
“Words. I need words,” Haechan reminds you a bit more sternly, and you whine. “Come on, talk now, ‘cause soon that pretty mouth of yours will be stuffed full.”
With the risk of choking on your own saliva, you let out a barely audible “yes.”
“Good girl, that’s my good girl,” he praises with a long hum, caressing your burning hot cheek before ordering you around again. “Open those pretty lips for me, will you?”
You obey with no hesitation, ready to take anything he gives you. And when two fingers press down your tongue your mouth immediately closes to suck on them, eyes fluttering shut, pussy clenching around him and ass arching up.
“Fuck, knew you would’ve loved this,” he groans.
Over the years, you realized Haechan loves doing this. To you, it’s funny because he rarely lets you go down on him, always whining because he has to eat you out, so 80% of the time, when it’s time for oral, you’re always on the receiving end. You don’t complain, you honestly think it’s a blessing he’s so obsessed with eating you out, but you don’t understand why he’s obsessed with watching you suck his fingers and not as obsessed with watching you suck his cock.
His moans get louder and whinier and you feel your stomach turn upside down and your core get even wetter. You almost bite him when his other hand moves from your hips to your clit, rubbing it, making you arch your ass up at the overstimulation.
Your wet eyes look up at him, begging him for release, but there’s not much to beg since you’re squeezing him, and he’s overstimulated too.
When his fingers leave your mouth, you gasp, taking in all the air, and start slurring his name. “Hyuck, Hyuck, please, wanna — wanna come, please.”
He leans down, kissing you. It’s a messy, wet kiss, with lips and teeth clashing, and your hand desperately reach for his body. “Come with me, princess. You deserve it.”
The orgasm breaks through you, a tingling sensation of pleasure running through your bones making you squirm against his body pressing you down. With one last strong thrust inside of you, you can’t control the jet of liquid squirting out of you.
A string of curses comes out of you, but Haechan is quick at shutting it up with more messy kisses and quick movements to ride the pleasure out. “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’re alright, babe. Shh, calm down, it’s fine. You did great.”
Your body slumps against the fabric and you let the warmth of his skin warm you up as you come down from the high. Haechan never stops whispering sweet words in your ear, kissing and caressing you, as he slowly — and reluctantly — pulls out of you.
“Fuck,” he murmurs when cum starts spilling out of you. “We made a mess.”
You chuckle, shrugging. “We’ll clean it up,” you say. “Later.”
He laughs, but turns you around, after laying against the backrest, pulling you close to him. “Want some well-deserved cuddles?”
“Yes please.”

“Will you see what’s in the bag?” Haechan asks when he comes out of your bedroom, all cleaned up after the shower you quickly took together, and sees you stare down at the brown bag Johnny brought.
You shrug. You don’t know what’s inside, you could barely get a glimpse when you peeked before, but something makes you fear there will be too many memories, and you’re not sure you’re ready for them all.
Your head turns around when you feel the couch bend with Haechan’s weight, and it immediately finds his shoulder to rest. His arm wraps around you, sneaking under your sweater to rub your skin, and you sigh.
“You don’t have to, not right now,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.
“But I do, I have to see her tonight, and I want to thank her.”
“Okay but if anything triggers you, promise me you’ll stop?”
“Promise,” you reply and then you flip it over on the floor. You can feel Haechan’s persistent gaze on you and you feel some sadness wash over you, but you feel fine for now. And then a smile appears on your face.
“I didn’t know she had our socks,” you say, grabbing the red stockings with reindeer and elves, and studying them. The fabric it’s a bit ruined over time, but they still look the same, and you can still picture them hanging, either on Johnny’s fireplace or on the furniture your family put them on. Your fingers graze over your brother’s name and you smile fondly. “Can we hang them? So I… so I can pretend there will be something for him too?” You ask, turning to Haechan that’s already apprehensively staring at you.
“Of course, we can even fill his with something, if you want to,” he proposes, but you shake your head. The idea of the gifts being left there would just make you sad, but this is a good compromise.
“Our scarves!” You bend over to grab them. “We knitted them, and I think you can see it,” you chuckle, fingers running over the bumps in the wool and other imprecision.
“Better than me if I would try now. My mom is excellent at it, she made me try once and I made way worse than this,” Haechan says, grabbing the other scarf and noticing that it’s not perfect but not even terrible.
“I’ll keep in mind to ask your mom for this one,” you say, cuddling up to him.
“Nope, you won’t,” he jokes, shaking his head with vigor, slightly blushing.
There are other things in there, but mostly decorations, there’s even a Christmas decoration that you loved when you were a kid, and you’re so grateful she gifted it to you. But then Haechan is attracted by something else. “What is this?” he asks, lifting a gingerbread plush, and your heart sinks in your chest.
Not a word comes out of your mouth for almost a minute, as you try to get some saliva in your mouth. “It’s — it’s me…”
Haechan studies your expression and immediately puts it away, but you stop him.
“I’m fine,” you mumble. “I just… I need time…”
“I don’t need to know, it’s fine, really,” he reassures you, touching your hand, but you shake your head.
“No, I want to,” you say. You wet your lips and fidget with your fingers before taking the plush in your hesitant hands.
“It’s not a Christmas gift, but it’s the last gift I got from him… a few days before his death. He called me gingerbread because I was obsessed with gingerbread men as a kid. Honestly, I was terrorized by them, they were men, I thought I was committing cannibalism, but then I tried one and I loved being a cannibal,” you chuckle, voice shaking as you fight back tears. “And when I grew older, I wanted to make them myself, I wanted them to be our family thing, but they never became one. My parents worked until the 24th and didn’t have time to wake up early and make them with me, so it was only me and my brother. He would always wake up early with me and help me make them.”
“You didn’t make gingerbread men today,” Haechan points out.
“No, those are for the Eve and Christmas,” you say resolutely. “Don’t worry, I will make them for you,” you giggle, and he smiles.
“Go on, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I would be worried sick too to be left without my cookies,” you joke before turning serious. “A week before his death he walked in a street market and saw this,” you shake the plush in your hands and smile, “and he gifted it to me. He told me that it wasn’t Christmas, so that was a sign that he had to buy it for me and that it was scandalous that in fifteen years he never gifted me anything related to gingerbread men. And I remember that… I laughed so much when I saw it because it’s cute but also weird. The eyes are slightly not on the same level, the smile is funny, and the white lines are all different, this one doesn’t even reach the seam. And he told me that that made it even more special and that I’ve never been normal, so it was even more me.”
“It looks like you now that I look better at it,” Haechan says, there’s a hint of irony but also sweetness in his voice.
You chuckle, wiping away a tear. “He used to often remind me he would always protect me, but when he gave me that, there was something different. And even if that was me, it was almost his way of telling me that he was always going to be with me, that’s why he had bought two. But his one was normal, and he kept it in the car.”
“You can stop,” Haechan says as soon as he guesses when this is going, but you shake your head.
“I held onto this toy for days at the hospital and it was the last thing he held before he… well… you know.” Your voice is broken by tears, the same ones that are rolling down your cheeks, but you’re fine. “I hated this, I hated that his got lost, destroyed, I don’t know, I… never dared to watch the conditions of the car after. I hated it because it was supposed to be me and this gingerbread man, not him. I hated it because it had lost his other half but didn’t feel half the pain I felt. So I threw it away.”
“But…”
“Is still here… yes. Because it’s me, and I survived,” you say, chuckling. “No, I’m kidding, no paranormal shits, it’s simply Johnny, I guess. He always knew what was better, and he must’ve kept it to the side, waiting for the right moment to bring it back to me.”
Haechan hums, his thumb still caressing your palm. “Are you mad?”
You raise your head, wiping away the tears. “No, I’m glad he always knows what to do with me. If you think you met me at my worst, you have no idea what Johnny had to go through when it all happened. He had to see the joyful, reckless, funny little girl he always knew turn into a cryptic, scheming, and cold woman from day to night and still decided to stick with me. He saw me at my worst, literally…” you breathe out. Another reason why you don’t like to think about back then is because you hate who you were.
“You deserved him, you deserved to have someone that didn’t judge you or blame you.”
You shrug. “I don’t know… I gave him a good dose of shit to deal with, as if he wasn’t mourning my brother too.”
“You know, from all these conversations we had over the past months, and after I could see what you have with Johnny from a closer point of view, I think you’re missing something.”
“Me?”
Haechan nods.
Your lips twitch in a wince, it’s been a while since Haechan taught you a life lesson, but usually you can see where he’s going, right now, you have no idea. “And what is it?”
“You always say that Johnny is like your brother, but Johnny is your brother. The three of you were raised together, his mom loves you as if you’re her daughter, and we all know that your brother trusted him with you so much that Johnny promised him to always keep you safe. Johnny didn’t choose to stay because he’s a good friend, but because you’re his sister, and because after losing his brother, he wasn’t going to lose you too. Maybe you hurt him, I truly don’t know what you two have been through, but he loves you so unconditionally that I’m sure he doesn’t regret it. And he would stick by your side over and over again.”
You smile fondly and hum. “You’re right, but I guess I’ll never get free of my guilt, will I? I mean, I still feel so bad for everything I put you through, no amount of good things happening between us makes me feel at peace with myself.”
“Not to take your therapist’s place but remember what she told you? Why you love to punish yourself for every little thing?”
You pout, nodding silently. Your awareness of you not being the cause of your brother’s death didn’t make the deepest parts of you aware in the same way. Something unconscious was still screaming at you, urging you to punish yourself even when there was forgiveness from the other side.
“Can you hug me? I don’t know what else to say,” you confess, and he smiles at you, pulling you into a hug. It lasts for minutes. Minutes of silence, heartbeats, and nothing more. Comfort. Peace. Healing. And when it breaks apart, you smile, feeling another brick of your walls falling down.
“Do you want to put this in a nice place or are you using it to take over your anger?”
You smile, grabbing the plush. “I want to put it somewhere nice.”

You never felt so much anxiety run through your bones as you do right now; pacing back and forth in the living room, staring obsessively at the clock, waiting to hear the ring of the bell that will mean such a big change for you.
You might’ve underestimated what meeting your boyfriend’s parents (and family) truly meant. All the hype you had until two weeks ago, disappeared when you remembered you had never met any of your partner’s parents before.
“Okay, enough.” Haechan jumps off the couch and stops you midway, blocking your arms. “I usually let you do your weird things, but you will consume the floor if you keep doing this and you will drive me insane.”
“But I’m nervous,” you whine, starting to torture your lips.
“Oh my god, stop that too,” he says, pulling your lower lip out of your teeth with his thumb. “Move and you’ll see,” he warns when he sees you lift your hand, knowing it will end up in your mouth to pull at your hangnails.
You sigh defeated and slump on the couch. “I’m nervous.”
“I got it,” he says, sitting next to you. “They’re chill, I promise.”
“But I was fine before. Maybe this is a gut feeling, you know? Something is telling me this will go wrong…”
“Yeah, and that something is your paranoid ass. Babe, come on. You’re perfect.”
You’re far from perfect, and sometimes you wish you could see yourself from his eyes to see what he sees of you because you struggle to see the amazing things he notices about you. And you fear his family will be extremely disappointed when the fantasies his son tells them through the phone won’t meet the reality.
Haechan is about to open his mouth again when the intercom rings, and you freeze.
“Come with me,” he smiles, reaching out a hand, tapping his feet when it takes you too long to take it. “Babe, come on.”
“I’m gonna pass out,” you mumble as your hand reaches him and you get up from the couch. Haechan sighs deeply as he basically drags you to the intercom to open the door on the floor.
“You’ll be fine,” he says, trying to shrug off what he’s feeling. Now that you’re so anxious, he can’t help but feel it too. Maybe this was too soon, maybe you’re not ready, maybe this will be the breaking point and he will lose you again.
But then the doorbell rings, and you’re the first to reach out your hand and open the door.
“Hi, mom,” Haechan greets when he sees you’re struggling to find the words and throws himself in her arms to give you time to take it all in.
“Hyuck,” she says, her calm tone filled with love, “look at you.” Her hands cup his cheek and squeeze them roughly, making him groan, and you chuckle. “And look at you,” she adds, bringing her attention to you.
“Hello, Mrs. Lee,” you greet, bowing at 90°, but she laughs, and you freeze.
“Oh, honey, please, just come here and let me give you a warm welcome to the family,” she encourages you, opening her arms.
You quickly glance at Haechan, silently asking if this is a test, but he reassures you with a smile and nods in her direction. So, you step forward and hug her.
“You smell so good, honey,” she compliments, squeezing you before letting you go, and resting her hand on your shoulder. “And wow. Haechan kept talking about you and I guessed you were pretty but not like this, you’re beautiful.”
“You’re too kind, Mrs. Lee,” you say, lowering your head to hide how shy you feel right now. “You look beautiful too, now I know why Haechan is so handsome.”
She chuckles and then pats your arm. “Thanks, sweetheart. And just call me by my name, please.”
“I will.”
“So, where are the others?” Haechan asks, looking behind his mom and seeing the empty corridor.
“We brought something, your dad is taking everything from the car, and your siblings are helping him,” she explains, lifting her bags as you let her come in. “I wanted to dim her trauma of meeting the whole family at once, so I came here as soon as we parked.”
Haechan rolls his eyes, grabbing the bag. “Food?”
“It wasn’t necessary, we prepared everything,” you say.
“I’ll never show up at your house with empty hands, darling,” she replies. “Also, I wanted you to try some of my specialties, I couldn’t wait anymore.”
A warm smile spreads on your face as you feel you can finally breathe again. Maybe this won’t be a disaster. “I can’t wait to taste them.”

Haechan was right. His family is loud. But it’s a kind of loudness you missed for so long, you can’t complain. His family is nice, and you can easily slide into conversations with them. The afternoon was mostly calm, you talked to get to know each other and ease the tension, you showed them the house —there wasn’t much to show, but they appreciated it anyway— and you even talked about future plans.
But now you’re alone in the kitchen, placing the plates you used for the appetizers in the sink, and when you smell smoke, you know it’s time for everything that went well until now to turn into a mess.
“Oh God, fuck no,” you curse under your breath, blocking your nose with your hand as you wave away the smoke from the oven and try to open it. “Not tonight, it can’t be fucking possible.”
“Hey, what’s going on — oh,” Haechan says, entering the kitchen after he hears the clattering and your murmuring.
“It burned. I burned the fucking lasagna. I have to make a good impression on your family and I burn it, I just burn it,” you almost cry, panicking over the burned pasta in the oven dish that now sits on the countertop. “Everything was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned, and now, oh my god, the meat, check the meat,” you rant, turning around to check the oven again.
Haechan sighs, head peeking out of the kitchen door. “Sorry, just wait a sec, we’ll be there with the first,” he warns his family before locking the door behind him, not waiting for their answer. It’s not like they care much, busy eating bread, drinking delicious wine, and still admiring the beautiful job you and him did with the decorations.
“Hey, look at me,” he says, blocking you in place. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. It was supposed to be the first big serving of our dinner,” you whine, furrowing. “Our first Christmas dinner together and I fuck it up.”
“You didn’t,” he says, looking behind you, trying to hide his face because yes, it is burned, but he’s sure you can find a solution. You two always do. “We’ll fix it.”
“I won’t serve your family a burned lasagna, I refuse,” you cry, hiding in the crook of his neck. “What will your mom think of me?”
He chuckles. “Really? My mom is in love with you, she didn’t stop complimenting you for one second. The way you look, how smart you are, how pretty this place is and how well you keep it, the delicious food you’ve prepared. I’m sure she’ll have a story for a burned something too, come on.”
“No, let’s take the first layer off,” you say, pushing him away. “It’s ugly.”
“First,” he says, coughing, “we’ll open the window, alright? I don’t want to poison ourselves.” You watch him as he does and then go back to the mess in front of you. “And now, let’s fix this.”
You two take the first layer off, but you don’t feel better, that’s not supposed to be the last layer. You put so much love into it, finishing it with mozzarella and cheese, and now it’s burnt.
“It looks terrible, they will think I don’t know how to cook,” you huff.
“I know how to fix it, any parmesan cheese left?” Haechan asks, and you nod, opening the fridge to hand him the box with it in it. You watch him as he puts it on, hiding the tomato sauce, and making it look a bit better, and you think that he’s always the one fixing your mistakes. “See? It’s perfect now.”
You groan because it’s not what you planned. But it’s still better than before. “Let’s not make them wait longer.”
“Everything alright? Something happened in there?” His father asks when you two come out of the kitchen, closing the door behind, so the air in there can change, but you won’t freeze in the living room.
“Yeah, just a minor problem,” Haechan explains sitting the dish down, and you know he wants to pretend nothing happened, but you can’t keep it in.
“I burned it,” you confess. “I’m sorry, but I got distracted here talking and I forgot about it, and I burned it. And we took the burned part out, but this is not my lasagna. I’m a master at it, and I’m sorry this mess is your first encounter with it.”
“Oh, sweetie,” his mom says, “all the things I burned all the time. Try to manage four little demons and it will be surprising when you don’t make mistakes in the kitchen.”
“Hey! We’re angels,” his youngest brother, Dongwook, complains. “Also, can I have the burned part? I love it when it’s crispy.”
“It’s burnt, not crispy, it’s bad for you,” you say, but his big eyes pleading you, make you look at his parents for approval.
“Can you bring it here, please? We’ll see how bad it is,” his father says.
“Dad, Dongwook, you don’t need to see it,” Haechan intervenes, and you know he’s doing it to protect you but you reassure him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Sit, it’s fine. I’ll go take it.”
You take a deep breath and enter the kitchen again before coming out with the plate with what you and Haechan took off. “Here’s the mess.”
“This is not burnt,” Dongwook jumps in his seat, grabbing the plate and smiling happily. “You took out the best part!”
You look at his mother with concern because that is burned, maybe not a lot —you took out the completely black parts and only kept what could be somehow saved, less than half of the top layer— but it’s not crispy either.
Mrs. Lee just shrugs and tells you not to worry with a wave of the hand and you relax a bit.
“If it’s not good you don’t have to eat it, we have the meat, it’s still cooking, but it’s good,” you say as Haechan puts a slice in each plate. “I’ll get up in a few minutes to make sure that won’t burn.”
“Why are you so stern with yourself?” His sister, Dasom, asks and you freeze.
“Dasom,” Haechan scolds.
“What?” She scoffs. “She’s cool, if I was her, I would be annoying in the opposite way.”
You chuckle and lower your head because they’re so nice to you.
“You can’t ask people you’re not close with these questions,” he retorts, clearly not caring that her comment was supposed to be a positive one.
“It’s fine, Hyuck,” you say, reaching for his hand now that he’s sitting back at its place next to you. “I’m just a bit nervous and I want this dinner to go well. I wanted everything to be as perfect as I planned and…” when things don’t go as planned, I go insane, your son and brother was a victim firsthand, “…when they don’t, it just throws me off a bit. But it’s fine.”
“Shit!” Daehyun, the middle child, screams.
“Ya!” Mrs. Lee slaps his arm, glaring in an admonition to not say swear words.
“This is good!” he says, ignoring his mother. “Perfect. Girl, if this is not your best lasagna your best one is Star Michelin worth it!”
“Oh, no, that’s too much,” you say, starting to breathe again because for a moment you feared he had found a bone or nerve or something else in it. But you can’t hide the smile on your face when the entire family praises you, the little one even telling you to always burn it because he loves the crispy layer. You’re sure they’re exagerating a bit to cheer you up, but you still think it’s kind enough that they care to put a smile on your face.
Haechan nudges you subtly. “Told you,” he whispers, and you smile.
“I’m glad you like it,” you say, shyly meeting their gazes and feeling full as you stare at their happy faces.
And you remind yourself that it’s fine if things don’t always go as planned, sometimes mistakes and unforeseen can bring nice things. If it wasn’t for the unexpected, you wouldn’t have Haechan by your side and you wouldn’t be having a happy Christmas dinner with your new family.
You’re happy, and you feel at home.

“Mom,” Haechan whines, hiding his face against your shoulder before lifting it again, letting out another heavy sigh, “you didn’t have to bring the photo album here.”
“Oh, she did,” you chuckle, sitting better on the couch to be turned toward his mom who’s sitting next to you with the book resting on her legs.
You feel Haechan’s head rest against you again, this time completely given up and ready to face the humiliation.
“Are there embarrassing pics of us too?” His sister asks, sitting on the arm of the couch, leaning on her mom.
“Probably,” Mrs. Lee giggles before opening the book.
As the photos pass by, you can’t help but wonder why he’s so embarrassed. “You haven’t changed a bit,” you say, turning to him, moving your arm so you can wrap it around his shoulder, and his head presses against your chest.
“Thanks, exactly what I needed to hear,” he scoffs, his voice filled with sarcasm.
“You still have the same smile,” you point out, “and the mischievous grin.”
“Oh, that has always been him. Every time he did something he wasn’t supposed to do, or ruined something, that little smirk was there. I couldn’t even get mad at him,” his mom explains, and you smile at the image forming in your mind.
“Don’t pout,” you pinch his cheek, making him yelp, “it’s cute.”
“As long as you don’t have any from my teenage years, we’re fine,” he says, making his siblings laugh. “It’s not funny. You had the same phase as me,” he points at the two oldest, “and you are in it right now.”
“I’m not. I’m cool, unlike you.”
Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Look at this!” You scream, pointing a finger at a picture of him at the pool, he’s wearing a life vest and has a pool float around him, and his smile is so big as he waves at the camera with both hands.
“We went to the pool that day, he didn’t know how to swim, he even ate with the lifesaver on,” his dad says, eliciting another groan from him.
“Stubborn even as a child,” you joke, intertwining your hands.
“Let’s not get there,” his sister rolls her eyes, and Haechan pokes his tongue out in reply.
“You have curly hair?” You ask after seeing other pictures of him.
“Wavy, I would say,” he replies, shrugging.
“You look even softer like this. How did you not want to bite him every two seconds?” You ask his mom, and she laughs.
“The cuteness of his face really saved him from a lot of troubles,” she says. “Remember when you stole Mrs. Park’s apples?”
“I didn’t steal them, I had no idea about capitalism and economy. She gave them to me once, and I thought I could just take them,” he explains. “Turns out the real world is not that easy.”
“Uhm, a young thief, I didn’t know you were such trouble,” you tease, and he glares at you but then breaks in a laugh. “But seriously, you should wear your natural hair more often, I always thought you would perm them somehow or steal my products to curl them, I had no idea they were natural.”
“I always told him he looked better like that, never listened,” Dasom chimes in. “But I’m sure he will listen to the love of his life,” she mocks in a high-pitched voice and Haechan throws her a pillow.
You’d laugh at their exchange if only being called ‘the love of his life’ didn’t make your brain short-cut for a few seconds and send the beats of your heart to an insane rhythm.
“The love of your life, ugh?” You whisper.
“You know you are,” he says, smiling at you. “Or does this scare you away?”
“Not even your emo phase scared me away, so nope, I don’t think this will.”
“Hey! You didn’t see that yet.”
“But we’re getting close, the middle school years are around the corner,” his mom says.
The middle school years don’t scare you away, if it’s possible it all makes you love him even more. But the pictures you loved the most were the ones of the family. The ones where he’s holding his sibling after their births, the ones with them on their bikes, on a swing, while playing football or going down a slide. The ones of their summers, mostly at the few parks they had near because it was hard to go somewhere else, but it didn’t matter. You find yourself in them, glimpses of your family and the struggles you went through, always ending in little things that were enough to make everyone happy because being together was all that mattered. And you find yourself in them even now, as they talk, telling you stories, bickering over details that are insignificant but at the same time mean everything, teasing each other in ways only siblings can do. And you miss that, you feel a deep hole in your chest as you watch Haechan laugh with his sister. The way he talks to her, teases her, but at the same time has her back, reminds you of your brother and you. You feel the same void when you look at his parents, how they smile at their kids, the gentle touches of his mom, and the awkward way of demonstrating love of his dad. It all brings you home, and you wonder for a second what it would’ve been like… if only your parents were there too, if only the holiday weren’t such a slap in the face.
But after the cold shower, you feel a warm embrace. When his mom’s touch reaches you with soft pats on your knees or shoulder. When his sister talks to you to side against him. When his dad tells you he will show you how to carve wood. When his brothers eat your gingerbread men and keep praising you.
What could’ve been doesn’t matter because there is something now. This is good. You see a light at the end of the tunnel. You feel that your ‘what ifs’ might turn into reality one day, that maybe not next year, but in three, your family will be here too, and you will tell your stories just the same. Because you have a lot of them, and you’re sure your parents would get along with Haechan’s so well. This is warm. There’s not the cold of your lonely apartment or the awkward, abrupt silence as Johnny’s mom went back to her words, terrified of ruining your day. The void that opened in your heart is easily filled by them, and even if you can’t follow everything perfectly, and sometimes it gets overwhelming, you have Haechan’s hand on yours. He never leaves it, it’s there, right on top of yours, caressing your skin, keeping you grounded.
But then the question everyone has avoided comes. It’s like a drop falling on a vase full to its brim, and it freezes you and Haechan right on the spot.
“Can I ask where are your parents?”
“Mom,” Haechan is the first to talk, the stern gaze he gives his mom makes you feel worse than the question she asked.
“Sorry, I… I didn’t know, I thought she wanted maybe a break to call them or —”
“Mom!”
“It’s fine,” you stop him, looking into his eyes to calm him. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to tell them. They were doing fine without knowing anything,” he replies, looking at you. You can feel the anger in his voice and his eyes.
“I can tell bits,” you say. “Small steps, remember? You taught me that.”
You can feel the confused gazes in the room, and the attention annoys you more than having to explain yourself.
When you turn around, you see his mom, who is about to apologize again, but you stop her by lifting your hand. “My parents are not here,” you say. “I mean it’s obvious, and I guess you want to know why. I’m…” you chuckle nervously. “I’m pretty sure we… we go along well, and we’re family now… right?” You ask hesitantly.
“Yeah, of course, you were family the moment I saw Haechan’s eyes shine bright when he spoke about you,” his mom says, and you smile.
“Good. And families should be open with each other, but there are some things I… I still want to keep to myself.”
When Haechan hears your voice shake, he places his hand on your back, and you relax at the touch. “Me and my parents basically don’t talk anymore. We text for the birthdays, and the important holidays but that’s it. There’s a reason behind it and I think no one is to blame, something happened and the three of us reacted badly, so I don’t want you to think they’re bad.”
“We’re sorry,” they say at the same time, and you chuckle.
“We would never think that anyway, not without knowing people’s stories,” his mom says. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t think that since you didn’t bring it up, you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you did, so you at least know this of me,” you reassure her. “And I’m sorry I’ve been quiet about myself. I prefer present-me to past-me, especially if I can’t talk about… if I can’t tell the full story.”
“It’s like Haechan’s middle school pictures,” his sister says, clearly to take some pressure off your shoulders, and you laugh. “Imagine seeing the photos and not telling that he did that to get a girl’s attention.”
“Dasom, it was a serious moment!” Haechan says.
“What? She laughed! She’s prettier when she laughs, and she was sulking. You shouldn’t want to see your girlfriend sad,” she justifies, sipping on her drink, and you high-five her.
“I don’t like you two being so close,” he jokes, pulling you back next to him. But with the corner of your eyes, you notice that his face is much more relaxed now.
“But seriously, I… I thought I could talk about it, I do with him,” you say, pointing at Haechan. “But your stories were so happy and I miss that kind of thing, you know, a family like yours, so I prefer to listen to you. It made me happy, and I don’t want to make me and all of you sad.”
You can see the pity behind their eyes. They don’t know what happened, but they can guess, and anything it’s not a happy guess, so they’ll want to tell you something but you stop that from happening.
“And since it’s almost midnight, and we need to open the gifts soon, why don’t we lighten the mood with some music?” You say, standing up. “Dasom, what about your karaoke?”
She gasps, staring at Haechan behind you. “You told her?”
“Of course, I needed her to be ready.”
“I wouldn’t have done that here, with her, on our first meeting,” she says.
“But I want you to, I used to do it with my brother, so it would mean the world to me.” You see that when you talk about your brother it’s like she realizes it, something makes her understand what happened, but she doesn’t say anything. She smiles, gets up, and grabs your hand. You jokingly find yourself thinking that if anything will ever go wrong with Haechan, you might try to date her.
“I’ll go get something else to drink,” Haechan says, getting up, “you two monsters come with me.”

The rest of the night goes smoothly. You sang for a while before sitting on the floor around the coffee table to eat the dessert you and Haechan’s mom prepared. Popped the champagne when the clock hit midnight, exchanged gifts (his mother gave you two homemade matching sweaters, they were so beautiful you struggled to have a normal reaction), and then played board games.
“I really wish you could stay but this place is so small, I wouldn’t know where to make you sleep,” you say when you’re exchanging goodbyes.
“You worry too much, honey,” Mrs. Lee says, hugging you. “Everything was perfect, from this afternoon to the dinner, and then the photos, the singing. I never had so much fun. And you know what, I was truly sorry for your lasagna, but it was so nice to not be the one that has to worry about that for once,” she jokes, eliciting a quiet laugh from you.
“I’m glad you had fun. I never planned a Christmas dinner before, and I feared making you come here from the afternoon would’ve bored you or something, but I think it was a great idea.”
“It was. And for being your first time, you were amazing. You have nothing to worry about, also the mistakes and the funny things end up in the stories we tell in the years to come, right?”
“Right.”
“Get dressed,” she orders the youngest before glaring at Daehyun, “you’re twenty, you should do your things without me telling you.”
You laugh when they resume bickering while putting their coats on. You catch her rolling her eyes before bringing her attention to you.
“You know, Donghyuck didn’t bring many people at home before. Most of the time, I had to guess he had some flings or something, but even the ones he felt were worth meeting us, weren’t like you. And I’ve seen him in love, I’ve seen him do crazy stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this,” she smiles fondly. “A mother notices a lot of things, and I’ve noticed his touches on your hand, how he plays with your hair or caresses your back, I’ve seen him rage when one of us overstepped. But most importantly, I see the love. I already had the feeling through the phone calls, but seeing his eyes light up, watching him get lost in you with every breath… wow, I fear you put a spell on him,” she chuckles. Her gentle eyes move between you and her son as a soft smile curls her lips, creating some wrinkles on her cheeks.
“He loves me like nobody ever loved me before, and…” you pause, turning your attention on him, watching him laugh with his dad, smiling in reflection before your eyes are on his mother another time. “I know it might sound exaggerated from the outside, but his love saved me more than I knew I needed to be saved.”
She smiles, caressing your arm. “Yeah, I noticed that too. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know if that made you bond more, but if you ever fear he’s not into this, I want you to know that he’s serious. When he told me he moved out of his apartment to live with his girlfriend, I was speechless. I thought he was never going to settle down, especially not so soon. But he did that, and even if he was afraid, he was happy about it.”
You want to tell her he was afraid for you, but you can’t or else she might think you don’t love him just as much, so you smile and nod. “This was a big step.” It’s not a lie, it was a big step for him too. His life was completely different before you two met and everything changed.
“Oh, but an amazing one. Look at how cute your place is, it feels like home. Even if it’s not big, even if it doesn’t have design pieces, even if it’s not in the center of town, you’ve got each other. And that’s something you can’t ever take for granted,” she says, and you see her smile sadden a bit as she looks over at her husband, who’s now busy talking with Haechan and Dasom. “But I don’t want to talk about what I had to go through with my husband, what matters is that we made it, and we raised four wonderful kids. And I don’t know if you want them or not, it doesn’t matter, there’s time to grow and change, but you’re young now, and have all your life to live, just the two of you. I just want you to remember to always have each other’s back. Even if you both decide you want to make another big step, you have to have each other to give love and water another flower.”
You wipe away a tear, lowering your head, and she coos, caressing your cheek. “No, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s fine,” you reassure her. Her words made you sad for other reasons, stinging right at the missing piece left by the absence of your parent’s love. “I’m very lucky to have him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Mom,” Haechan’s voice rings behind you, and you notice his worried look when he sees you wipe away some other tears.
“We were just talking, I’m about to cry too, it’s normal,” she explains, smiling at you and you smile back.
“Sure?” He asks you and you nod. “Yeah, also, I’m just a bit tired.”
“We’ll go now, seriously. We stayed way too long,” she says, calling the sibling at her side with a snap of the fingers.
“Tomorrow at lunch you’ll be here, right?” Haechan asks. His arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you closer, thumb caressing your side in gentle motions.
“I do not plan on eating at that hotel, so you can bet I’m going to be seated here, eating the amazing food she cooks,” his dad replies, and you chuckle.
“Even if I burn it?” you joke.
“Yes, even if you poison it, honestly.”
“He ate something at the buffet when we arrived and wanted to change the hotel,” Haechan’s sister adds, rolling her eyes, and making you all laugh.
“That’s where you get the overdramatic-ness,” you whisper only for Haechan to hear, and he mocks you with a stupid face.
“Well, time to go, we annoyed them enough,” Dasom says, pushing the younger out of the door. “Merry Christmas, and thank you for everything!”
“Merry Christmas to you too!” You and Haechan greet again, watching as they all make their way out of the apartment. “See you tomorrow.”
“Cover up, it’s cold outside,” you say. “And drive safely, please.”
“We will, it’s not far from here,” his dad reassures you.
“Goodnight!”
When you make sure they enter the elevator, you close the door behind, and you sigh.
“Yeah, I now realize I should’ve made you meet them sooner for a shorter amount of time,” Haechan says right away with a hint of irony in his voice.
“You’re kidding, they’re amazing. I love them.”
“So you’re not overwhelmed?”
“Maybe a bit, but they’re so much fun. Your mother is lovely. And I love your sister, I need her number so we can become friends.”
“Nope, not happening. You two together will be the death of me,” he laughs, shaking his head.
You stick your tongue out before opening your arms to him, begging for a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in, breathing deeply your sweet scent as he caresses your back. “You did so well today, I’m so proud of you.”
You don’t reply, just smile in the crook of his neck as your arms hold him tighter and feel all the pent-up stress leave your shoulders. You let his perfume lull you, and the warmth of his body calm you. You two stay there for a while, he leaves small kisses on the top of your head, and you chuckle when it tinkles, and just hug him tighter. And you think that, even if you’re always all over each other, hugging is not something you do a lot, and you need to change that. But you’re both starting to feel the tiredness of the day, and you’re the first to pull away.
“Come on, let’s go get changed, I want to slump in our ugly pajamas together.”

In less than twenty minutes, you both have showered and changed into your matching pajamas, the lights in the living room are off, and you’re ready to go to bed.
When you enter the bedroom, you see Haechan at the window, looking outside, and you quickly reach him, hugging him from behind and starting to leave kisses on his neck, making him giggle.
“What?” He hums when he looks behind and finds you staring at him with big doe eyes.
“You were so cute as a kid,” you whisper.
“Yeah, I noted that you would’ve had a crush on me if we met during kindergarten,” he chuckles, and you do the same.
“No, dummy,” you scoff. “I mean, yes, probably. You were a charmer with your pretty curls and that smile. Would’ve swept little me right off my feet.”
He turns around, hugging you. “Should we go back in time and see?”
“Nah, I like our romantic start with the fuck in the car, more appropriate for adult-us,” you joke, and he laughs. “But little you got me a baby fever.”
“Oh,” Haechan says, furrowing. “You run fast when you want to.”
You shake your head, snickering. “I’m not that serious, I don’t want it right now, but... it sparked in my mind just for a moment.”
“Yes, we would make pretty kids, that’s what you’re saying.”
“You ruin all the fun with all this mind-reading,” you pout, crossing your arms on your chest, and he laughs, kissing your pout.
“Sorry,” he says. “I can’t give you a kid right now, but we can practice, so we know what to do when we want one.”
You stare at him. “Tell me this was not supposed dirty talking because it’s the worst line that ever came out of your mouth.”
“Hey! I was trying to be sexy.”
“You’d be sexier if you just straight up told me you wanted to fuck. Because it’s also what I’ve been subtly trying to tell you.”
“Nah-ah, you said you wanted my kids,” he teases, kissing your lips.
You roll your eyes. “Not what I wanted to say.”
“I don’t reckon a breeding kink, though. Missed something from your bdsm test results?”
“Shut up, that’s weird. I was being sweet before, not horny. And breeding kink is only funny when it doesn’t turn into actual pregnancy.”
He stares at you with a confused face, and you scoff, waving him off with your hand.
“Can I give you the special Christmas gift?” You say, changing subject, batting your lashes seductively at him.
“Sure.”
“Sit on the bed,” you order and then watch as he does what you say before you take a few steps back so there’s some distance between you.
“You will not striptease with that ugly nightwear on?”
You roll your eyes and sigh heavily. “Why do you have to ruin all the fun? This is the best part of it all, the ugly nightwear. Now, will you let me do what I have to do, or do I have to go to somebody else? You know, we don’t have Mark next door anymore, but the neighborhood down the corridor is always so nice to me, and he used to flirt before you moved here, so I’m sure he would appreciate it.”
“Oh, shut up! He’s lowkey a creep, and he always stares at you as if he’s never seen a woman his entire life. He probably wouldn’t even make you come, but he’ll nut in his pants as soon as you’ll touch him.”
You chuckle at his accurate description. “So, you don’t want all this to go to waste, right?” you ask, pointing at your body from head to toe. “You better shut up and let me do what I have to do.”
“Go on,” he says, nodding, and then sits more comfortably on the bed.
Your dance as you strip is not exactly the sexiest thing on earth with the fluffy, baggy pants and no music playing in the background, but Haechan is having a lot of fun anyway watching your hips move, your hands run on your body, and your teasing faces.
But it quickly turns serious when you lift your top off your head, revealing a red lace bra.
“Fuck,” Haechan mutters, sucking his breath in and squeezing his thighs for a second. He has your body imprinted in the back of his mind by now, yet, every time, you leave him breathless.
You keep going, letting the pants fall on the floor and gracefully picking them up to lay them on the chair, hips swinging as your hands run on your exposed body. You turn around, giving him a perfect view of your ass, and he bites back a moan. You chuckle delightedly, feeling shivers form on your skin when you hear him shuffle with his pants, probably pulling them down to ease the boner.
You bend over, looking at him upside down, winking when he meets your gaze, before giggling when your eyes fall on his fist wrapped around his dick.
“Hard already?” You ask teasingly, standing up and facing him.
“What does it look like?”
You pout, tilting your head. “I guess we have to do something about it. It’s too easy to turn you on.”
“It’s not my fault you know all the right bottoms to push,” he replies.
You huff. “Please, I just danced a bit, like this,” you stop, swinging your hips again and touching your body, cupping your boobs in the see-through red bra before reaching your neck and moving down again. “And bent over.”
He sighs again, but you notice the gulp when he follows your body. “Dance for me?”
You smile. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”
“Not yet,” he breathes out. “Just dance for me, I’ll put some music on.”
You smile and start moving, this time with slow music filling the silence. The Christmas lights hanging in the bedroom make the room look like a club, and you quickly get into the vibe.
Seeing Haechan stroking his hand on his hard dick lazily while his eyes are stuck on you, is turning you on much quicker than expected. It goes on for a while, your body moving to the rhythm while his hand gradually picks up the pace, especially when you get in more provocative positions or get close to him, only to leave him with nothing.
“Touch yourself,” he orders after long minutes of silence. “Bring the armchair in front of me and touch yourself with me.”
A small gasp leaves your lips, but you’re quick to follow the instructions. You slowly sit, trying to maintain the sexy vibe.
“Don’t undress.” His voice stops you right when your hands are about to pull the panties down. “You look too good in that set to throw it on the floor already.”
You smirk, and then your hands move on your body. You throw your head back on the chair as you enjoy the sensation of your hands running on your skin, teasing your nipples, and slowly —too slowly, from Haechan’s annoyed groan— you start parting your legs. It’s clear it’s not enough when he says a stern call of your name.
“Something wrong? Do you need something?” You tease, tilting your head to the side while your hands never stop touching your body, everywhere but where he wants you to.
His eyebrow raises, and he scoffs. “You shouldn’t be naughty on Christmas, you know that?”
You snicker, rolling your head back for a second before locking your gaze again. “Pfft, I already had my gifts, I can be as naughty as I want to.”
“But do you? Do you want to?” He teases you, leaning a bit over. “I can see the dark spot from here, are you sure you want to punish yourself any longer?”
You gulp at the intensity of his eyes. One second, you two are in a teasing-switchy-mode, and then one second later, he has this hold on you with just one look, pinning you down, leaving you no choice but to obey.
“Good girl,” Haechan praises as soon as your legs spread open, one dangling down the seat, the other dangling on the armrest, and your fingers start moving your clit.
A gasp of relief comes out of your lips, and your eyes flutter shut.
“Nah-ah, look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”
You lock eyes with him, feeling warmer. You love the way he looks at you, you’re sure you’ll never get tired of it. His eyes are full of lust and love, making you feel desperately wanted and loved. You feel so comfortable in that, knowing you can let him do whatever you both want and never feel used. It is a recurring thought every time you’re exposed to him because it’s something that you didn’t experience in the past.
“Can — can you tell me what to do?” You shily ask.
His lips curl in a smirk. “You want me to give you instructions? Not in the mood to have control tonight?”
You shake your head. You don’t feel like it, even if you love teasing and being bratty, tonight you want to leave the reins in his hands and let him guide you.
“Good.” Haechan clears his throat and sits better on the bed, his hand still slowly touching himself while the other lays flat on the mattress to keep his body up. “Tease your nipples with your other hand, I know you love to play with your boobs.”
Your hand moves up swiftly, not wasting a second, and a shaky breath comes out of your lips as your fingers rub the hard, sensitive bud. They’re already hard from the chilly temperature of the room, the heat warming it up just enough to be warm if dressed up, but soon get even harder from the stimulation.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks with a teasing edge in his voice, and you nod. “Move the panties to the side, let me see how wet you are.”
As soon as you move the crotch to the side, his eyes intensely stare between your legs as he licks his lips, watching your cum drip down, and you have to bite back a moan.
He snickers and you raise a brow. “And to think all you did was dance for me.”
Your throat goes dry at the mockery but you find the words anyway. “But you — you are touching yourself.”
Haechan chuckles again, throwing his head back to push back his hair before lifting it. “Yes? It turns you on so much to see my hand wrapped around my dick? Want to have your hand wrapped around it?”
You nod as you bring your thumb to your lips, biting a hangnail. And he laughs. “You’re serious about me guiding you, torturing your pretty nails to contain yourself and don’t let a finger slip inside of you.”
At the call out, you move away your thumb but he only laughs louder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Slip a finger in and tell me what’s running in your mind.”
Your finger slips in with ease, bringing relief, but words struggle to come out of your mouth as you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze. “I want to — I want to suck it.”
Haechan smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Really? Want to be on your knees, between my legs?”
You nod with much more enthusiasm needed, but you don’t care. It’s too tempting now that he has his legs vulgarly spread, his thick thighs begging to be touched as you take his dick in your mouth, and his eyes slightly glossy with pleasure. It’s not a common sight, but you love it. Looking up and seeing his face wrecked, his eyes teary, but what you love the most are his moans and whimpers, so high and needy, as he unconsciously starts fucking your mouth to reach his high.
“Maybe I’ll let you do it after, but first take care of yourself…”
You huff but don’t complain further and start to move your finger faster.
“Good girl. Push another finger in, come on, fuck yourself faster,” he encourages, clearly understanding you’re growing impatient and want more. “You’re so filthy,” he snickers. “So fucking wet, listen to the pretty sounds you make.”
A muffled moan is your reply to his comment, but your body speaks more than words. Your head rolls back and your eyes close before you remember he told you he wants you to keep eye contact, and your pussy gets even wetter with each pump of your fingers.
“Please, another one,” you beg. Typically two fingers are perfect, but with each sound of his hand sliding up and down on his dick, and the sight of his length throbbing as droplets of cum roll down his cock and hand, you can’t help but want to fool your body that he’s inside of you.
He smirks, but it’s not as teasing as before, he’s starting to falter too. “Go on, add another one. Stuff yourself full, pretend all you want that’s my dick inside of you.” It’s not much the dirty talk, but the way he knows you so well that makes you shiver and close your legs for a split second. There’s nowhere to hide with him.
You bite your lips to push down your throat a pathetic, high moan when he stops his movements to take his top off, leaving it on the other side of the bed. He’s completely naked now, one hand running in his long brown locks before it goes back to his side to keep his body up, and the other wraps around his cock.
“You’re so hot,” you whine, huffing. And he chuckles, cheeks blushing a bit. You rarely compliment him during sex, too fucked out to vocally tell him what he does to you, and it’s always your body speaking to him. So when it happens, he’s not used to it.
“Am I? Or are you only turned on by this?” He jokes, head pointing between his legs.
You shake your head. “It’s you, fuck. Your hair, your lips, the moles on your skin.”
He chuckles, stopping your praises. “My moles?”
“Yeah, your moles, I love them,” you confess. He should’ve got this a while ago, considering you always let your fingers brush them and connect them with invisible strings. “I love your stomach, your waist, your thighs. And your hands, fuck, they’re so beautiful.”
This time it’s a genuine smile that spreads on his face before he lowers it to hide the effect your words had on him, and you smile too.
“Want to come?” He asks, still overwhelmed by the praises, and you giggle. He’s always so confident, you can’t believe he’s acting shy now.
“Yes, please. Together?”
“Together.”
You pull the third finger out, prioritizing swiftness and deepness over thickness — you’ll have time for that. And start to quickly move your two fingers in and out while your thumb rubs your clit. Your other hand plays with your boobs with more eagerness, pinching the nipples and cupping the soft flesh as you please. And soon enough you’re both coming. Haechan’s fast strokes and loud moans are the last thing you need to come, unexpectedly squirting and hitting him too.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, biting his lips, hips squirming as more cums keeps coming out of him, messily hitting his stomach, chest, and legs.
Your head rolls back as the pleasure starts slowing down, your fingers are still lazily riding out the orgasm, and your eyes fall shut as your lungs take deep breaths.
“Fuck, come here, this is torture,” Haechan groans, getting up to pull you on the bed on top of him, not waiting to be steady on his knees.
You chuckle at his eagerness, honestly, you’re surprised he lasted that long without touching you.
“Next time we’re doing this,” he hums, kissing you, “you’ll sit between my legs. I need to feel you close.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” you giggle, pushing him flat down the mattress, and straddling his lap. Your hips grind on him, smearing the cum that splashed on his stomach on you, but you don’t care. You’re focused on kissing him, letting your fingers run in his long hair while enjoying the sensation of his running on your skin.
“Mhh, are you going to be offended if I ride you instead of sucking your dick?” You ask, smiling awkwardly.
He bursts into a loud laugh and then shakes his head. “Do you think I’d say no to that?”
“I don’t know, I was kinda drooling over that, maybe the idea turned you on.”
Haechan shrugs, pulling you into another kiss as his hands cup your ass. “It did turn me on, but I can’t stand another second not pressed against you. Why don’t we flip position, mhh? You wanted to be pampered tonight.”
You smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’d prefer it. I don’t think I would last long on top.”
He rolls you on your back, his lips never leaving yours and you chuckle in the kiss, trying to get rid of your panties, but he stops you again. “Keep them on, please.” You do as told, choking on a silent moan when his fingers brush your clit as he helps you keep them to the side.
“You love this set, don’t you?”
He nods, giving two tugs on his dick as he starts pressing it against your soaked slit. “Looks good on you.”
A breathy, shaky moan slips from both of you as he sinks in, slowly as he always does, enjoying the feeling of every inch filling you up until he bottoms down.
“You alright?” Haechan asks, and you nod with a small smile on your face.
“Please fuck me?” You ask, trying to don’t show how eager you are.
He chuckles but doesn’t tease you, instead, he places a hand on your hip and the other at the side of your head on the bed as his hips start moving. Each thrust is deep and long, knocking the air out of your lungs. And you get lost in the smooth movements of his body, rolling so easily to please you —God bless all those years of dancing. Your head rolls back when he snuggles in the crook of your neck to leave kisses on your skin, and your arms fly to wrap around him and bring him closer.
You barely notice how one of his hands sneaks under your arched back to free you from the bra, and only sigh at the feeling of freedom that quickly gets overwhelmed with pleasure when his lips wrap around your hard nipples.
“Fuck, Hyuck,” you whimper with your fingers clenched hard around his hair. You’re tempted to look at him, staring at his concentrated face as he sucks on your nipple, sending more shivers down your spine, but you’re too lost in pleasure and can’t bring yourself to look up.
You bite your lips when he moves to the other side and the chill air of the room lingers over the warmth left by his mouth. The constant stimulation of your sensitive buds sends new shivers down your spine and makes the knot in your stomach tighten.
“Fuck, babe, your boobs are so soft,” Haechan moans against your skin. His other hand creeps up and wraps around the neglected one, squeezing tight.
A breathy moan rolls from your hips as your hand tangles in his hair and your hips jerk up against him.
“What? Why are you pulling away?” You ask in a whine when Haechan moves away from you and pulls out.
“I don’t think you want me to rip them, right?” Haechan snickers as his fingers pull your panties down.
“Oh, I thought — never mind,” you mumble, feeling heat creep on your face.
He smiles, his gaze is gentle as ever as he lifts your face. “You thought I was leaving you?”
You nod shyly, biting your lips.
“I would never. See? I’m right here,” he reassures you. His lips meet yours, one hand cups your face and the other helps him slide into you again.
You moan in the kiss while your hands reach his hair to pull him against you. “Want you,” you slur, watery eyes looking into his.
“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “I just needed to get them out of the way.”
Your lips meet again, and never truly part again. His rhythm picks up again, but this time he pushes your legs against your chest, reaching deeper, making you feel every inch more.
“Hyuck,” you whine, throwing your head back as you gasp for more air.
“Feels good? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?”
You nod frenetically. “Feels — feels good.”
Haechan smirks, thumb brushing on your burning cheek before running over your quivering lips. “You’re so beautiful when you’re vulnerable like this,” he whispers, and you’re not sure you were supposed to hear it because it feels as if he’s talking about something else. It’s about you showing yourself fully to him, with no armor, and no mask, and not only during sex.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Taking me so well, so warm and wet,” he mutters under his breath, messily kissing you again, and reaching for your hand to intertwine it with his. With each drag of his dick inside of you, you feel closer to the edge, and automatically your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper.
“Fuck,” he groans, not expecting you to do that, and you feel his hips falter for a second, but he swiftly picks up the steady rhythm.
“I’m close,” you whisper, and he hums.
“Wait for me, can you, princess? I’m close too, just — fuck — just a bit more.”
You nod and then feel the urge to do something. You’ve got more comfortable with time, but eye contact can still be pretty hard and vulnerable for you, yet you don’t think much when you cup his face and force him to look straight into your eyes. This time your stomach flutters from love, and you melt in his golden brown eyes looking into yours with nothing but love. And you can’t hold it anymore. “I love you,” you whisper, the sincerity and vulnerability in your voice watered down by lust but clearly there.
Haechan doesn’t expect it; you see it in his eyes widening and you feel it in his hips slowing down for a few seconds. This is the first time it comes out of your lips while you’re having sex, he’s always the one getting a bit more caught up, confessing his love even in these intimate moments, while you save it for other times. He gulps, not knowing what do to, but then a shy smile creeps on his face as he lowers it again; just the time to regain his usual confidence before staring back at you. “I love you, too.”
You smile, feeling warmth spread across your chest, and pull him in a kiss.
And after that, you two are just skin and bones burning in synch in the passion of your love. One of your hands is in his hair, tugging a bit, while the other is wrapped around his shoulder, your nails scraping his delicate skin, and your legs are still wrapped around his waist. While Haechan’s hand is resting on your hip, and the other is holding his body up now that he’s lying closer to you and has more risk of losing balance.
The orgasm washes over you at the same time as he keeps fucking into you and you kiss each other, moaning in the messy meeting of your lips. His fingers dig in your skin and your nails dig in his scalp, but none of you feel pain, just more pleasure as you both ride out your orgasm.
Haechan doesn’t pull out right away. His head falls in the crook of your neck where he leaves more kisses, praising you in whispers, and you lay there with a dumb smile on your face.
“Can I stay here inside of you forever?” He jokes, looking at you with a playful smirk on his face.
You chuckle, shrugging. “I would lie if I said I’d be bothered, but unfortunately it would be impractical.”
“Fine, then just a bit more.”
You both enjoy the intimacy of this closeness, occasionally kissing and caressing each other and when he pulls out of you, you groan, feeling suddenly cold.
“I’ll be back, just let me get something to clean you up,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips before leaving.
Haechan comes back with a wet towel in hand, sits next to you, and gently wipes you clean. Your legs close at the stimulation but his hand on your thighs helps you don’t focus on the fabric passing over your sensitive core. It’s quickly done, and he can come back next to you after a few minutes.
You rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and smile when his hand wraps around you and starts caressing your back after pulling the covers on top of you.
“Thank you,” Haechan whispers, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“For?”
“For trying,” he replies, looking down at you to meet your eyes. “This time of the year is always so hard for you, and even last year you hated it, even if we were already together. I know you used to love it, but I thought it was going to take more time to live it with a light heart, well, as light as it can be,” he chuckles, but it’s an awkward laugh. There’s some pain in his voice, and you know that if it was possible he would take your pain and put it on his shoulders, but he can’t.
You flip on your stomach, to look at him better, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from dancing on your back.
“You underestimate me,” you joke. You’re not sure you want to talk about this now. The holidays are long, you’ve planned the entire week with his family, except for two days, you might still have some lows. But Haechan seems to always appreciate every small step you take, and you feel good in that pride.
“No, I know how hard some things are for you. And even if I want you to get better, I would never force you into anything. And it’s… it just means so much to me that you did all of this for me. I mean, for you too, but you started planning months before, you proposed to invite my family over for me. And trust me, I know that our house is still a sacred safe place for you, and you still don’t easily let people in, but you let them. And letting them in is probably scarier than when you let me in back then. But you did it, because you know how much I love my family and how much I love this month and this celebration, and what you did means everything to me.”
You chuckle, pushing back some tears because you don’t want to cry. “You gave me the strength to do it. I couldn’t stay anchored to the past any longer, it was now or never. If I started hating the holidays even with you by my side, it would’ve been the end of it all. I… once I start relating negative experiences with something I never stop doing that. As much I loved the way the Suhs invited me over in the past years, I knew I couldn’t take another pity-Christmas-dinner. We should have one with them too one day, maybe, but no more pity, I can’t take it anymore.”
Haechan smiles, caressing your face. “You were different when we ate at Johnny’s last time, I think his parents saw that too. And they weren’t walking on eggshells anymore. Let’s be honest, with you it’s not eggshells, it’s bombs, so I can’t blame them.”
A soft laugh rolls off your tongue as your head falls against his chest, but the lighthearted moment comes to an end when a veil of sadness falls on your face.
“Something wrong?”
You shake your head. “No, I just realized some things.”
“About you?”
“About you,” you say. “I feel I will never be able to make you understand how much you changed my life for the better. And I know that in your eyes I sound so dramatic at times, but…” you sigh, eyes falling on the white sheets before meeting his curious gaze again. “But you mean so much to me, and you taught me everything I had forgotten with time. I used to go on with my days, but I didn’t fully live them. I was constantly afraid: of failing, of hurting someone, even killing someone, so I didn’t love, I didn’t feel. All my emotions in the past years were felt by a 30%, just to fool myself that if I didn’t give, if I didn’t put myself out there, I was safe, and… looking back at it now, it sucked.” You stop again, trying to give an order to your thoughts, and Haechan gets it. He doesn’t talk, he waits and listens. Haechan listens. To your words. To your cries. But most importantly to your silence. Because with you, at times, it says much more than words.
“Somehow, I had died with him that day. Not physically, but I was quick to kill myself to punish myself for what happened. And then you brought me back to life. I was so scared with you because now I… I can die again. Now I have something to lose, I have so much to lose, and it should be scary, but I weirdly feel at peace. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I notice it because I scheme for the little things now, and just let life wash over me. I don’t want control of the bigger picture, I can direct the behind-the-scenes, I guess,” you joke, and he laughs too. His face is relaxed, and it feels good to be an open book, to have no fear of opening up and fearing that the other will leave. “Your mom told me something that made me think of this. As long as we’ll have each other’s back, it won’t be as scary. And this would be scary too if I felt that one of us wasn’t 100% sure of this relationship but, I don’t know, I have the impression that we might want to be in this for a long time.”
Haechan chuckles, and then nods, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I like ‘for a long time’. It’s stable but not forever. Let’s be honest, would I want to date you even in the afterlife? Nah, come on, give me a break at least there.”
You laugh and then wrap an arm around his torso. “Just two dates with other ghosts, and then you’re coming back to me.”
“Yeah, fine,” he huffs, but his voice is filled with irony, and then his lips are on yours again.
“Be honest, was the lasagna that good, or did they fake it?” You ask with a furrow on your forehead, still tangled in the hug.
Haechan laughs. “Oh my god, I gave you a mind-blowing orgasm and you’re still thinking about that? But yeah, it was good, if it was bad, you would’ve seen it in their faces. They loved it, and they love you.”
The conversation doesn’t die there, but shifts from funny moments you had yesterday and the plans you have for the days to come. Then you realize you haven’t texted Johnny and his family a Merry Christmas yet; you could’ve done it in the morning, but you were used to waiting at midnight together and even if it’s almost 3 am, you still want to do it to somehow keep your tradition alive.
You grab your phone, and write him a text, finishing it with the promise you’ll also be calling him tomorrow. You have so many things to tell him, you know it’s going to be a long call in the morning as you prepare everything for lunch. And right before you’re about to lock the screen again, Haechan stops you.
“Wait, wait, wait, what? Who’s that?” He says, pointing at the name of a contact and you laugh. “Why are you laughing? What’s funny? My pathetic loser?”
“With a heart at the end,” you add, showing him the phone. “It’s you by the way.”
Haechan gasps offended, but you see it’s all an act and he’s just curious to know why you have him saved like that. “Really? I’m a loser? A pathetic loser?”
“No, you’re my pathetic loser,” you correct him.
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, wow, that makes me feel better,” he jokes.
“Well, it’s how I saved you when I got your number three years ago.”
His eyes widen even more, and you’re not sure he’s completely faking it. “And couldn’t change it to something more romantic over the years?”
“This is the romantic version. At first, you weren’t mine, just the cheesy, annoying, simpy, guy Johnny tried to make me hook up with, but now, you are the cheesy, annoying, simpy, love of my life.”
He groans, ripping the pillow from under his head to hide his face and scream in it and you laugh at his reaction. “And then I’m the cheesy, romantic one!” He points out and you only shrug.
“I can change it if you don’t like it,” you say, snuggling closer to him, pulling the pillow away to kiss his jawline and caress his hair back, soft and long, framing his face perfectly.
“Are you kidding? I love it,” he says, pulling you on top of him, and kissing you.
“Good, I’m glad you like it, my pathetic loser.”
It’s late, but you can’t stop talking, tangled up in the sheets, after slipping back into your comfy pajamas, peeing, and leaving the shower for the morning. You tell him the stories you didn’t say today, and he tells you some others his family doesn’t know, and just when the clock hits 4, sleep starts to take over. The soft caresses on your back and his warm body close to yours lull you into a comfortable sleep.
It’s Christmas, you’re in Haechan’s arms, wearing matching pajamas, and your hearts are beating as one. Today will be another long day, but you’re confident it will be amazing, and what’s left of your fears won’t eat you up. They don’t matter, the past doesn’t matter, there’s only one thing that matters now.
There are only three rules left: be alive, love, and be loved.

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo ; @yellowgirllsblog
hits different taglist: @adorejaehyn ; @matchahyuck ; @jjhmk ; @ourbeautifulaffair ; @what-the-jams : @oleoleniall ; @kundann ; @bbagu ; @ismileeprnc-responder ; @produmads ; @zkdlllin ; @yesohhsehun ; @aliceinwhateverland ; @strangevante
taglist with some people that interacted under HD (i hope this doesn’t bother you, just thought you might’ve liked being tagged since you showed love to the first one): @rjtulips ; @lmnhead ; @girlwholoveslpreppyattire ; @lovingvoidgoatee ; @brownsugarbaybee ; @canknot ; @adollsblog ; @ch1llkill ; @bacons-thighs ; @emptynote ; @addyanm ; @marklovexs ; @softieehcficrecs ; @brightestmark ; @jyanigoth ; @haechskies ; @rum-gone-why ; @melloworm ; @cheolctrl ; @taegr0wls ; @onlyseokmins ; @xtrataerrestrial ; @222brainrot ; @johnny-sassville ; @ujisworld ; @cup1dton ; @21497s ; @slushhie ; @sakamoto-hey ; @uyukyeom
taglist with people that interacted with the post: @harrypinks ; cont in comments

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#nct fanfiction#haechan smut#lee haechan smut#haechan fluff#lee haechan fluff#haechan hard hours#haechan scenarios#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut
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The @itmustbek8 Commentary Drinking Game
(aka I have been binge-watching all of their videos again while sick to no one's surprise)
(alternatively, this would be excellent for making bingo cards when they start a new show)
(please drink responsibly and choose whichever rules you like; this game could literally kill you otherwise 🙃)
Drink every time:
They mention another show they've done a commentary for in a different commentary series (1 bonus drink if the show is Diabolik Lovers, Vampire Knight, or Boys Over Flowers) (2 bonus drinks if they say that Diabolik Lovers/Vampire Knight is their favorite/the best show ever) (3 bonus drinks if they reference the Vampire Knight plot twist) (yes, I did warn you that you may literally die while playing this game)
Vic Mignogna is hated on (valid)
J. Michael Tatum is mentioned (bonus drink if they get jump-scared by a wild Tatum-san randomly appearing in/writing a show)
They notice that a character is voice by Bryce Papenbrook and then subsequently realize who else he's voiced (Eren from Attack on Titan, Aido in Vampire Knight, Inosuke in Demon Slayer, the small child in Brothers Conflict, Makoto's additional dialogue in the Danganronpa games [though I don't think they've spotted that one yet lol])
Maddie has a rant/breakdown over the stupidity of a show (RIP the Dance with Devils ending)
Maddie tells a story about work
A pet appears/is mentioned (I have lost track of how many pets Maddie has/had)
Someone looks up something online while they are watching the show (like the voice actors or the wiki for a show)
Kate thinks the show's opening has changed when it hasn't (bonus drink if it's Maddie that thinks the opening has changed)
An animation issue is pointed out (ex. walking cycles, changing animators, eyes are suddenly too far apart)
They genuinely adore the show they are watching (it does happen!)
The ugly Jan-di boat dress (from Boys Over Flowers) is mentioned (especially as a comparison scale for ugly dresses)
Ji-hoo sleeping on the stairs (from Boys Over Flowers) is mentioned
Phantom of the Opera is referenced (RIP the Dance with Devils commentary)
Glee is referenced
Kate and Maddie jam to the theme song
They discover that a show has incest (RIP)
They discover that a show has icky age gaps (RIP)
They repeat a bad line read in a dubbed anime (RIP Vampire Knight commentary)
The Old Prospector appears (fave character voice acting 10/10)
Kate and Maddie get overly attached to a random side character (god bless the egg man) or just a non-main character (Jek watch ftw)
Feet are mentioned/pointed out (don't worry, there's a counter for this in the comments)
It's mentioned that vampire bites are basically metaphors for sex (because they are)
Nobunaga appears/is mentioned (how does this keep happening????)
Kate and Maddie google part of a game in order to get through a part (valid)
Kate and Maddie predict what happens next in a show/game (usually jokingly and subsequently to their detriment 🙃)
"All according to keikaku"
Kate/Maddie are/want to eat/drink (bonus drink if they talk about what the characters are eating/drinking) (yes, this includes the world's tiniest coffee cups in Stand My Heroes: Piece of Truth)
Maddie has watched this show before (bonus drink if Kate has)
A Starkid clip is used
"*gasp* THERE'S A BUTLER!"
A gif of Jan-di's mom celebrating (from Boys Over Flowers) is used
"I hope you piss your pannnnnnts!"
Maddie reads the comments for the show they are watching before they watch the next episode
Brothers Conflict commentary-specific, but whenever the mention the potential of a beach episode (RIP the beach episode)
A character's outfit is ridiculed (and usually validly)
Kate mentions editing the videos (bonus drink if Maddie makes her editing job harder)
They reference/use a clip from Avatar: The Last Airbender
"Wow, great acting"
"I'M AT SOUP"
Maddie's mic acts up (I have lost track of how often this has happened, dear lord)
"MAYBE HE/SHE HAS VICTORIAN BLOOD DISEASE!"
Kate mentions omurice
When they attempt to sync the starting of the show, someone's video doesn't play
They reference Goob from Meet the Robinsons
Generally, Killing Stalking Book Club from Hell-specific, but whenever Maddie goes on a rant about ethical practices in policing (valid)
Kate mentions A/B/O out of the blue (???) (this excludes Pit Babe because that's just an intrinsic part of it)
Maddie mentions Evangelion
They mention their own Youtube comments/following (proud to be part of their handful of fools 😊)
The Boy (2016) mention ("Brahms is a boy")
The "I had a weird relationship with my mom and now I'm bad to women" club
Feel free to add on!
#itmustbek8#drinking game#should I be proud or scared of how many I came up with in one go?#diabolik lovers#diabolik lovers: more blood#vampire knight#boys over flowers#attack on titan#brothers conflict#danganronpa#dance with devils#phantom of the opera#glee#nobunaga#stand my heroes: piece of truth#stand my heroes#starkid#all according to keikaku#a:tla#meet the robinsons#killing stalking#evangelion#the boy 2016#pit babe
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Hii could you maybe write something for human! M!reader who comes out as trans to neteyam?
IDENTITY ;; NETEYAM
summary ;; just a few heacanons about reactions, tips, comments and validation from neteyam!
pairing ;; neteyam x human!trans-male!reader (platonic + romantic)
warnings ;; i think there's none ??
word count ;; 0.8k (with bonus)
a/n ;; you didn't specify what type you wanted this (neither hc or os nor platonic or romantic), so I'll do headcanons with these last two because i liked the idea, if there's something you didn't like, please go ahead and tell me!
PLATONIC
✦ Neteyam knew you since probably before the return of the humans. Your parents were scientists in favor of the na'vi and decided to raise you in Pandora in the company of some na'vi children where Neteyam was.
✦ Now, we must make something clear, and that is that in Pandora there are several words that are of human term. And for example, "trans" would be one of these.
✦ Neteyam could tell that you were starting to dress differently, talk differently, but he didn't question anything because he simply respected your space, but when you commented to him how you felt- no, how you identified, he cocked his head to one side.
✦ "That… What does that mean?" but his confused smile only made you imply that he would support you independent of its meaning.
✦ When you explained the term to him, how it was seen on earth and according to what your parents had explained to you (which in a good way they also accepted you the first time you talked to them), he seemed to understand a bit more.
✦ So he began to give you some ideas of clothing to make you feel more attached to the Na'vi culture (if you would like that idea) or simply, helping you to stylize you more, even sometimes trying to accompany you to train to define your body a little more if you wished so.
✦ If I'm not wrong, the culture's clothes are always supposed to be made by friends or family, since they come with a symbolic load and Neteyam as, for now, he is the one who is more informed, has decided to give you from time to time clothes that he thinks would fit you.
✦ In case you wanted to clarify this with others of your friends Neteyam would be the first to correct the feminine terms to masculine.
✦ "He, Loa'k. Reader is he".
✦ In a platonic way, you can expect a lot of support from Neteyam and truth be told, identity is not an issue in his culture and he will do his best to understand you, even asking others how to help you a bit more.
ROMANTIC
✦ Now, in a romantic way, Neteyam takes it a step further.
✦ Yes, the story is the same and when you gave him the comment he questioned what it meant, but quickly and not to worry you, he gave you a hug and put both your foreheads together.
✦ "I don't understand much… but I want to help you feel good in your own skin."
✦ So he looks for answers from some scientists, from his father, from some of your human friends and all to find out how to get you to feel comfortable.
✦ If you want to cut your hair, he will style it. If it was already short, he'll try to decorate it a bit like some of the guys have (BONUS: but Spider and Lo'ak will be there too).
✦ If you want to change your appearance, he'll do his best to cover your chest area and in case you've already done so, he'll remind you to be careful not to hurt yourself.
✦ Interesting fact, but in Frontiers of Pandora, Okul is possibly a non-binary character (Tsu'kiri too) that despite having a female model, has a male voice and I have the hc that there must be some way to alter the testosterone for the na'vis so Neteyam would travel by sea and land looking to know if you could get an avatar (that already has the biological change) or simply, know if there is something to help you in your human form.
✦ His family is quite respectful of you and have stopped treating you with feminine pronouns as soon as you and Neteyam confirmed them (Sometimes Lo'ak gets confused, but apologizes as if he shot you in the stomach) and although in the village there may always be someone who questions you, Neteyam will jump to defend you as a human and as a man.
✦ Finally, as a partner Neteyam is not much different from his platonic version, but I can tell you that he will love you unconditionally and will do his best to make sure that the way you see yourself is not a hindrance in your daily life.
BONUS ;;
"Wow, what about this handsome guy, is he busy?" you heard Neteyam's voice entering the lab. You turned around with an amused look and raised your head, looking him in the eyes.
"Just busy trying to convince Norm to get Spider and me Avatars" you admitted, giving a sigh as you folded your arms. He noticed that despite the smile you gave him, you didn't seem to look so good and he knelt down, kissing your cheek.
"Do you want to talk about it?" you wanted to, but your throat wouldn't give words, so he hugged you. His body hid yours lovingly, as if you were a crystal about to break, as if you were the last precious stone in all of Pandora.
"Maybe they can't get an avatar yet. But we all know who you are. Your personality, your essence, your identity… none of that is based on your body. I see you, my love."
a/n² ;; i THINK i understood what you meant, so i tried to do the best i could. although i am from the trans umbrella as a gender fluid person, i personally am very oblivious to certain behaviors that i know other people may have, but I hope you liked it, if there's something you didn't like, please tell me, love ¡!
#neteyam x reader#neteyam x male reader#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x you#neteyam sully#avatar 2 x reader#avatar 2 neteyam#avatar way of water#atwow#avatar the way of water#avatar twow#avatar james cameron#avatar 2022#neteyam x human reader
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🌈 IT IS TIME!!!! HAPPY PRIDE!!!! 🌈
The official yearly @tockthegnome celebrational art will be up soon, BUT I couldn't resist starting the month out strong with Tock and Onna ✨🏳️🌈✨
Keep being proud, everyone. Keep BEING. We're still here!! We exist, we are valid, we are loved - ALL of us - and don't forget to love and bolster each other, this day and all days, this month and all months.
** This post particularly dedicated to all LGBTQIA+ employees of the National Park Service, particularly any that have spoken out against or fought against the continued queer erasure in the .gov website's description of the Stonewall Memorial. Btw, anyone can submit a comment there. Just click "No" about whether or not the page was helpful, and type away. **
~
Bonus art and stories ~ Prints, comics and more!
#happy pride 🌈#queer pride#lgbtq#lgbtqia#queer art#queer#queer representation#demisexual#asexual#pansexual#panromantic#lesbian#fantasy art#fantasy#gaslamp fantasy#faerie#indie comics#queer comics#tock the gnome#gnome woman#gnome#orc woman#orc#kiss#romantasy#ooh shiny
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Glad you’re back (again!)! And do what makes you happy when it comes to art, that’s what’s most important! I love your star trek comics but i would love to read some of your original stuff!
Sometimes it’s hard for me to decide what to draw because just drawing in general makes me happy. When it makes other people happy that’s a huge bonus.
I like my original stuff but sometimes it lacks direction. I don’t have any sort of vision, just a few original characters that I can throw into different settings. Star Trek stuff is easy and fun because it’s already a fleshed out story, I just get to make fun of it.
I went through a phase where I was so focused on trying to make cartooning my full time career, I thought fan art was a waste of time. Was I really a valid cartoonist if my ideas weren’t original? I see now that line of thought was ridiculous. Of course you can be a real cartoonist even if your primary works are fan art.
Anyway, thanks for your comment and interest in my work, no matter what it is. I appreciate you <3
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Sooo the prompt thingy I misread and tried to make a prompt - most were kind of romantic which given the pair was a no but then as I cycled through this one came up…
Alan holding Scott's hands when they are shaking.
Which might be rather interesting if it grabs you!?!
Better late than never, right? Sorry it's taken me months to get back to you on this. I'm hoping it's worth the wait. The prompt definitely grabbed me!
Disclaimer to say this is a three chapter story, with no current plans on continuing it, and it does end on a cliffhanger. Also, we don't actually get to the prompt until the last chapter... There was a bit of exposition that needed doing first.
I hope you enjoy it though! 💙 AO3 here
Specter: The Discovery
Ch.1 - The Lunar Expansion And Underground Land Identification Corporation
“Thunderbird Five, do you copy? John, can you… Please, can you hear me?”
He wouldn’t break down into tears, no matter how badly the dams wanted to break. Crying would solve nothing and Alan really, really needed to get this situation solved before it got any worse.
Tapping his comms again, trying not to let his frustration and fear get the better of him, Alan sniffled, faking his best smile. “John, I really could use some of your insanely wise wisdom right about now.”
But the line remained stone cold dead.
14:05
John had relayed the call regarding the four trapped lunar miners at lunchtime.
Alan had launched Thunderbird Three not twenty minutes later, Scott on his left acting as his co-pilot.
There had been nothing in the mission brief to suggest they approach the disaster zone with any more caution than normal. It was, from the information John had received from the ground team, a fairly simple extraction mission. In hindsight, the lack of information that John had been given should have had alarm bells ringing in all their heads.
“What were they even excavating down there?” Scott had asked the valid question once John had given them the very quick lowdown.
“They weren’t clear with me on that.” John replied, the irritation evident in his voice. “All they mentioned was something about a colony.”
Alan had scoffed at that. “On the Moon? Do they not know there’s a successful and vibrant civilisation being built on Mars right now? Who would want to make a new base on the Moon?”
“Uncle Lee still has a fondness for the Moon.” Scott had commented without taking his eyes off the colourful screen of readouts in front of him. He flicked through the various bits of data, his expression growing more and more taut with each swipe. There was not one report that was fully completed, all having various black lines and CLASSIFIED — DO NOT READ signs strewn across the pages. The holograms were a jigsaw of information, no one piece fully complete and legible, and Scott was not happy about it.
“That’s more sentimental.” John pointed out. “Besides, bases and colonies are two very different things. The Moon is a great half-way point to Mars to set up a base, Alan, but that isn’t what they seem to be doing.”
Defeated, Scott had banished the data away from his view with an exasperated sigh. “What did you say the name of this company was again, John?”
“I didn’t. It’s some new start-up, I think. I hadn’t heard about until we got the call. Apparently their business is called ‘The Lunar Expansion and Underground Land Identification Corporation’. If you’re pressed for time, they also go by ‘The Lunar Expansion Co.’ for short.”
Alan hadn’t been impressed with the company’s choice of name and had fought back his urge to eye-roll upon hearing it. Whoever was responsible for creating that mess of a title needed a serious lesson in how to name a company properly. Take their two family businesses — Tracy Industries and International Rescue — they were short, sweet and to the point. Bonus points for their acronyms being easy to remember; TI and IR. They virtually roll off the consumer’s tongue!
LEULIC, however? What kind of an acronym was that? Alan didn’t claim to know much about business, and often left the more complicated matters to his older brothers, but even he knew catchiness was a key selling point when it came to a name! This company’s was too much of a mouthful, and nobody was going to remember LEULIC!
“So, they’re identifying land to expand upon?”
“That’s the idea, Scott, at least from the limited information they’ve given me. No-one on their end has been willing to divulge anything else.”
“Keep talking with them. See if you can get them to open up a bit more. The more we know, the better it’ll be when we get there.”
“F.A.B.”
15:23
Thunderbird Three’s retros fired as they entered the Moon’s orbit.
The sight was one Alan was sure he’d never get used to. He wasn’t sure he wanted to get used to it.
Being International Rescue’s main astronaut, Alan had flown his red rocket to the likes of Mars and Europa, and he had set foot on Haley’s Comet. One day, he dreamed he’d travel to the edge of the solar system in his faithful Thunderbird.
But the Moon?
The Moon meant so much more to him. The Moon was far more special.
Earth’s natural satellite, along with the stars that shared the night-sky, had been the first celestial object that Alan had ever set his eyes upon. With all her swirls and craters, it had been the foundations of all of Alan’s astronaut dreams as a child. Unlike the other planets in the solar system, where one needed a telescope to fully appreciate their beauty, the Moon was almost always visible from Earth with the naked eye. Alan had never mistaken the Moon for a bright star, as he had so often done with the other planets. Even during the light of day, the familiar rock could sometimes be seen, still visible despite the hour.
Always constant, always there.
The Moon.
Beyond that, however, the Moon had been Dad and Uncle Lee’s home for a while. His brothers used to call it ‘Dad’s Office’ and, whenever Alan was missing him, he had taken comfort in the ability to see the rock upon which his Dad had been living and working.
The Moon would never not be special for Alan. He would never tire of visiting it, nor would he ever grow bored of observing it.
As final preparations were made to land and the grey surface spread across Thunderbird Three’s cockpit windows, Alan couldn’t help the small smile that gently formed on his lips.
Three hit the dusty surface with a soft thud.
Scott wasted no time in unbuckling himself from the co-pilot chair. He attached his helmet and checked his wrist unit. A hologram of data emerged, hovering in the air above his arm. Parts were still blocked off, much to Scott’s annoyance, but he swiped through until he found the page he was looking for.
A map that John had managed to wrangle from the Lunar Expansion company.
“We only have two hours until those workers run out of oxygen.”
As Alan followed Scott’s lead, unclipping his helmet from his belt and assessing his own equipment, four blips on the map began to flash; the four trapped miners.
Scott pointed to it. “We’re approximately five miles south of the disaster zone. We’ll take the Explorer Pod and travel north until we meet them. We need to work fast. Time isn’t on our side.”
“Relax, Scott. This is as simple as a mission can be.”
His brother scowled. “You should know better than to use the S word, Alan.”
“Oh, come on! The company with the stupidly long name, trying to create a colony on the Moon?” Alan clicked his helmet into place. The oxygen from his own tank hissed as his suit became airtight. “We’ll be home in time for dinner!”
16:04
The red shell of Three grew smaller and smaller as they travelled across the dusty lunar terrain. Alan tried not to look back. Upon leaving Three’s cockpit, a gnawing sense of doubt over the mission began to rear its head. No matter how much he tried to shake it, the feeling refused to leave him. Glancing back towards his Thunderbird, towards their only ride back home, and watching it shrink in the distance didn’t help matters.
By the time they arrived at the base — if it could even be called such; one lunar rover transporter, two mobile units and a very large drill could hardly be taken seriously as a base! And these people were supposedly trying to build a colony? — Scott and Alan were surprised to see the Lunar team having already begun rescue operations. It was a relief to see that the work done by the Lunar team hadn’t been a complete botch job.
The drill, specially crafted to break apart the lunar surface, had been deployed cautiously in an attempt to burrow a new hole. According to Meg, the leader of the group of miners, the new hole had been excavated beside the first one, but Alan had a hard time figuring out exactly where this initial hole had supposed to have been. Either the team had already done a good job at covering it back over, knowing they wouldn’t be needing it again, or… Alan wasn’t sure what the or was. All he knew was that his rising sense of dread was deepening with each passing second.
The Lunar team had managed to reach the collapsed cavern, where the four trapped miners had been cowering, in less than an hour. Scott had scanned the area briefly, sending his data back to Thunderbird Five. He didn’t bother waiting for John to reply, jumping straight into the action with easy commands and direct instructions for the rest of them, Alan included.
A winch secured. A line tightened. Scott hooked in.
The first two miners were an easy score. Alan had opened comms to inform John that Scott was like the claw in an arcade machine and the miners were the prizes he was winning, only there was no sarcastic retort about how Scott was terrible at the claw machines and that he’d believe it when he saw it.
There was no reply at all. John’s communications were silent.
The situation wasn’t dire, the mission was running smoothly, so why was John so quiet? Alan thought back to the data that Scott had sent him earlier. There had been no response to that message either.
“Hey, Scott…” Alan began as his brother ascended from the hole for the third time, slightly wounded miner under his arm.
“Can’t stop, Allie. The last one’s disappeared.”
Alan ceased his prodding and poking of his wrist unit to glance up at Scott. His brow creased, perplexed. “What do you mean ‘disappeared’? It’s a cave-in. Where else could he have gone?”
Scott rose both his arms up in an exasperated shrug. “All I know is that he was there when I was retrieving Miner Two but he was gone when I went back for this one.”
“Does she not know where he went?”
“Shock.” Scott explained, tugging again on the rope strapped to his waist. “Couldn’t get anything from her.”
The comms situation could wait, Alan decided. He lowered his wrist and began to set up his own winch system.
“No, Alan, you stay here.”
“Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
“Yes, but it’s better if you remain top-side for now.”
“If you’re expecting trouble, it’s probably better if I come down with you.”
“Who said I’m expecting trouble?”
“Your face, your voice, your general ‘must keep Alan out of harm’s way’ schtick.”
Once upon a time, Alan resented his older brothers for trying to keep him out of the loop. Even at the age of ten, when they tried to keep the worst parts of Dad’s explosion from him, Alan had insisted he’d been old enough to deal with it all. Nowadays, he understood, even if he still didn’t always agree with it.
Scott chuckled. “I’m not apologising for it, Alan.”
“I don’t like this, Scott.”
He had dropped his voice down to a whisper so only his brother could hear. Scott strolled over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Despite Alan’s growth spurt a few years prior, he still wasn’t quite at Scott’s height, and so his brother tilted his head down. “Like you said, simple mission, right?”
“I definitely think I spoke too soon.”
“Also like you said,” Scott continued, not allowing Alan the chance to feel guilty for accidentally jinxing their mission, “it’s caved-in. There’s hardly many places he could be. I’ll be out again before you know it, missing miner in tow, alright?”
Alan could feel his goosebumps rising. His cheek twitched.
“Hey?” Scott patted his shoulder before letting go. “Time is running out.”
His brother had tried to reassure him, but Alan felt no more reassured than he did twenty seconds before. He gave Scott his best smile regardless. Scott’s returning smile was doubtful in itself. Alan knew his brother too well for Scott to hide the concern in his eyes.
He watched as his brother lowered himself over the edge of the hole, as the blue and grey of his uniform slowly descended down into the dark abyss, with his gut instincts screaming at him to pull him back up.
Jeff had always taught his boys to never discount their instincts, to always trust what they felt, no matter how ridiculous it might have been. Alan ignored those words of wisdom. He ignored his instincts entirely, opting instead to tend to the shocked miners. His mind, he decided, just needed something else to occupy it until Scott got back.
Only Scott wasn’t coming back, and Alan’s realisation of that came all too late.
#thunderbirds fanfiction#thunderbirds are go#alan tracy#scott tracy#john tracy#thunderfam#prompt fill#idontknowreallywhy#five fics#fic: specter
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So I’m a feysand who can honestly say I’m pretty indifferent to Feyre’s sisters and the ship wars involving them- it’s because I don’t like how they’ve been handled or find their characters consistent.
but because I feel so detached from Elain, Nesta, their love lives, it makes it especially crazy to me to see that people genuinely think Az and Elain aren’t next. I really feel if you have emotional distance, it’s been painfully in your face that the next book is Elain’s, Nesta isn’t getting another and her book was very conclusive and set up to be a standalone, and Elain will split POV with Az.
don’t get me wrong, I see elriels make comments that show their biases (preferences) in theorizing or talking about canon scenes, but a little of that is natural when you are connected to a specific couple or character, their importance is naturally going to be elevated for you.
what I can’t wrap my head around is how many people apparently deluded themselves into thinking Elain’s book isn’t next and she won’t share it with Az because Nesta and her friend group is the new center of acotar.
Gwyn couldn’t be more obviously created just to have Nesta have a friend with a blank slate for her; she may do stuff in the future but if anything, she felt like Alis levels of importance to me. Especially when you remember that sjm specifically said she gave Nesta her friends because even though Elain and Feyre are cool sisters and Feyre is “the best sister” to her, Nesta needed something away from her baggage.
Hello anon 🫶
You know I agree, when you’re detached from the shipwars you can view it all more objectively as you have no particular feelings that influence your opinions. And looking at it purely objectively, it is very clearly elriel.
like you, I also didn’t care too much for the shipwars. I had no strong feelings towards any ship, sure I had a favourite (not elriel lmfao) but I wasn’t biased. I wasn’t actively engaging in the fandom when reading the acotar series and I no idea about any bonuses. I think I finished the og series in December/beginning of Jan and then in Feb acosf was released so the series flowed from og to new and elriel was just in your face obvious. I wasn’t even paying attention to them amd still clocked on they were endgame. I was reading lots of different types of romance books and elriel was set up as a typical romantic relationship would be. It was shocking to see there was an actual discourse going on.
acosf concluded Nestas main story and arc - by interviews Mass confirms its one book per couple so another Nesta book is off the table as even when promoting HOFAS Mass didnt say anything about the next book being differently formatted. You’ve had 2/3 sisters stories so it obviously makes sense the last sister will have the next book, especially when you take into consideration information about acotar 6, it has every chance of being a prequel which increases the possibility of elain = acotar 5. The bonus confirmed Az will have the next pov in the next book and its simple logic and math from there.
biases are natural but it starts becoming a problem when you let it fully influence what you’re taking away from canon.
its funnier when you realise…acosf is a standalone and Nesta’s friend group wasn’t part of the OG series therefore cannot be the centre of attention in the next books as they’re all meant to be standalones from each other. The spinoffs were always going to be about characters from the og series - didnt Sjm literally say the OG series had clues for the spinoffs? Yet the “next” fmc wasn’t even introduced. And they’ve deluded themselves to believe Az is solely next all because of his bonus…yet two bonuses were released. Feysands exists and is just as valid to use as evidence/foreshadowing on who the next book will be about. Which character appears in that bonus? Elain. So if she’s appearing in Feysands AND azriels bonus…clearly, clearly she will be in the next boo. As the main character.
Nesta needed a fresh start hence had to meet new characters, Gwyn being one of them, no one is saying Gwyn can’t play a role in later books but its simple.
If Gwyn was *that* important such as being an FMC before characters like Mor and Elain, she would have been introduced even if it was for a second, in the OG serie: and if not there then in acofas. Do they rlly think Sjm would introduce such an important character in a spinoff? Be frl. That doesn’t sound like Mass and whats the cherry on top? The fact acosf is a standalone and Gwyn only appears in that book meaning she cannot be the next fmc as to understand a gwynriel book, you’d *have* to read acosf which defeats the literal purpose of it being a standalone.
#Loving all the elriel asks im getting sent from feysands especially considering what antis are tyrna pull lmfao#elriel#feysand#pro elriel#gwyn berdara#azriel shadowsinger#gwyn acotar#azriel acotar#elain archeron#elain acotar
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Whump fics have an audience, obviously, because all of us are here writing and reading it, but it's still a more limited appeal. Any advice for how to deal with discouragement when whump stories you're passionate about don't get any interaction?
I humbly think we’ll have to ask ourselves what the goal we hope will achieve is; do we write for notes and kudos, or do we write because it’s something we’re passionate about and so the act of writing alone brings us joy? this is a genuine question and either of these answers are valid.
I know a lot of us create for both the joy of doing what we love, and also for the validation of getting likes/reblogs/kudos and comments. and as someone who also writes, I understand how much seeing our works get the appreciation they deserve means.
but the thing is, it can also get discouraging when the work we put so much time and dedication into didn’t get as much love as it deserved. I know this is all so very cliche and is easier said than done, but if we really want to have fun in doing what we love, my advice would be that you do it for yourself, not for your followers. and the sooner we can truly accept this concept, the happier we’ll be.
do you get what I’m trying to say here? (because I’m not sure if it makes sense tbh), but long story short, don’t write for kudos or reblogs, write because this is something that you love. being able to do what you love is actually super cool.
sure, kudos and reblogs are amazing, but the sooner we can fully look at them as a bonus, not the main reason we create, the happier and more at peace we will be.
so it’s okay if our works get no interaction, because at the end of the day, we got to write them for ourselves.
repeat after me: I got to do what I love, which is enough. I’ll keep doing what I love because they’re a form of self care and I’m doing what I’m doing for me.
please don’t let the lack of interaction from the audience pull you away from the joy of creating the stories that you love. YOU should be the priority of your works. always.
#admin answers#whump#writing positivity#writing#writer#whumpblr#writers on tumblr#writers on ao3#writing challenge#writing inspo#writing inspiration#writing advice#writing advices#writing tip#writing tips#ao3#archive of our own#writing community#whump community#angst#whump blog#writers
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I’ve seen a post about it before but I wanted to say it myself. Don’t undermine your work by captioning it “in my flop era” or “I hate how this turned out” or “I suck at summaries” or “I’m not sure if this is good…”
Even if you think it’s true, it doesn’t help you to say these things. It’s the strategy of rejecting yourself before others can. Like if you say you don’t like it first then it won’t hurt as much if someone else ends up disliking it. You can just write it off as “I didn’t care about it anyways.” It will still hurt though and it will make a lot of people click away because of the mentality “if they don’t believe in their own work, why should I?” if you tell them your edit or story or art or whatever sucks, then they’ll believe you. Which is the opposite of what you want. If you say it hoping for compliments and validation like “it’s awesome what are you talking about??”you fall into the trap of looking like you’re being fake modest and fishing for compliments. Also not a good outcome.
And again, even if you mean it, if you really doubt your work and don’t think it’s good, then I’m flat out telling you to be proud of your work anyway. Maybe it’s not the best or it could be improved but you still tried and you still posted it. You already won! Fandom wouldn’t exist without creators taking a chance and hitting the publish button.
And I know from a lot of personal experience that it’s easier said than done to stop caring about what people think and to stop relying on comments and kudos to make you feel proud. But you seriously have to stop worrying about it. The only thing you have control over is how hard you work and how much fun you have. If you truly enjoy creating things then just create them. Who cares if you have bad grammar or it’s too self indulgent or you used CapCut or you didn’t know how to end it so you just cut it off where you were or it’s ooc… whatever it is. It’s still valuable and worth your time! When you’re chronically unhappy with your work it doesn’t matter if it gets 5 likes or 10k likes, you’ll still feel that pit of “it’s still not good enough” and the only way to get around that is to slowly teach yourself that at the end of the day you’re creating for yourself and sharing it as a bonus. This is a hobby! And it is not a rule that you have to be good at hobbies. They can just be fun and something you like to do.
And as a bonus exercise if you have creations that don’t get a lot of attention, think of some of your favourite actors and musicians, think of some of their most unpopular songs or roles, but the ones that you love anyway. Should they feel ashamed of themselves bc they’re not Oscar winners??? Should they give up creating bc they’re not selling out arenas? Hell no!!!!! Think of some of your fave fics from the depths of the tag that have zero comments and 1 bookmark, but that you love anyway and constantly reread even if you’ve never said it to the author. There are always fans and people who care even if you don’t know it. And if you validate yourself then you always have one fan. 🥹🖤
🖤🖤🖤
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For the ask game ❤
in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?
what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most
best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.
if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?
Thank you so much to the amazing @cinnamontails-ff for these asks! 🥰
Some longish answers here, so under the cut they go!
in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?
Ooh, this is such a tough question to answer! There are some amazing adaptations of literary works out there (the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries comes to mind), but there are also many horrid ones. I've always found these extracts of letters author Rick Riordan sent to the producers of the Percy Jackson films an interesting read. It seems that, in most cases, authors have no control over what happens with TV/movie adaptations once the rights are sold.
I think I'd ultimately say yes and hope for the best because, if nothing else, a film/TV adaptation at least helps promote the original work. Whether or not I'd actually be able to watch is another story!
what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?
In terms of fanfiction, I would honestly say that my biggest influences have been other fic authors. I hadn't read or written any fanfiction in years, and had never written smut, but that changed once the Astarion brainrot set in. Works by @scaryanneee and @fangswbenefits were among the first I'd read and really inspired me to give it a go. I'm still digging through my huge reading list and finding inspiration from more authors than I can name! This is seriously such a talented community.
Overall, though, I find it hard to pin down any particular influence. In terms of trad lit, I read a lot of mysteries and thrillers these days, which tend to be mid to fast-paced, easy reads. Definitely helpful for learning how to use language economically. On the other hand, reading Austen and the Brontës at a fairly young age taught me a lot and shaped my early writing. I think today I aim to write in a way that is easy to read but elegant, with enough sentence structure variety to keep things interesting.
I also love reading a little bit of historical romance and especially gothic romance. I think The Ascendant Takes a Bride especially takes a few cues from these genres! One of my dreams is to write a gothic romance-inspired longfic, so we'll see if I ever get to it. Also want to give out a shoutout to a favourite fic of mine, Portrait of the pale elf by @larvasmoon, if gothic romance is also your thing!
best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.
I've received so many lovely comments that I cannot possibly narrow it down to one! Every single comment I've received has meant the world to me.
The feedback for A Fitting Reunion has been particularly wonderful. Several people in the comments mentioned how much they enjoyed Astarion's characterization there and how "fitting" his dialogue was, which is something I really wanted to get right so I'm so glad it worked!
Bonus shoutout to this awesome and funny reblog reaction to The Ascendant Takes a Bride!
if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?
Honestly, just keep reading, and keep writing! I wrote fanfic (just for myself, never posted online) throughout the entirety of my teenage years, and I still sometimes like to look back on that and see how much I improved over time. I really learned so much about writing from that time of my life.
Also, short stories are valid. One-shots are valid. Not that I ever thought they weren't, but I always tried to write something longer than I could finish back then, and it never really occurred to me to write a shorter, more contained project. For BG3, I'm really glad that I started with some shorter stories that I knew I would be able to finish. I still want to dive into the longfic world once things settle down for me after the move, but I feel so much more confident now having multiple completed works under my belt!
(from this ask game)
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To Every Fanfic Writer Who’s Ever Been Kicked While They Were Creating
Let’s get one thing straight: if you’ve ever dared to share your writing with the world—your fic, your headcanons, your carefully crafted 200k slow-burn epic or your 800-word emotional gut-punch—and someone responded with cruelty, I want you to know this: you are not alone, and you are not the problem. You're part of something powerful. Something creative. Something brave.
Writing, especially in fandom spaces, is a radical act of love. It’s time pulled from our already chaotic lives to build something out of nothing. To take characters we adore and reimagine them—softer, sharper, queerer, kinder, messier. We write because we care. Because something in us burns with the need to create. We post that creation online not for validation (though let’s not lie, kudos are nice), but to share in a community. To say: This moved me. I hope it moves you too.
And what do we get in return? Sometimes joy. Sometimes connection. Sometimes that delicious, perfect comment that makes everything feel worthwhile. But other times, we get snide remarks, unnecessary nitpicking, or full-on contempt masquerading as ‘critique’. Let me be absolutely clear: there is a world of difference between constructive feedback and plain old cruelty. One is offered with care. The other with the sole intention to belittle.
If you’ve ever received a comment that made you want to delete a chapter, a story, your whole damn account—I am begging you, don’t let them win. Their bitterness is not a reflection of your worth. Their inability to scroll on and mind their business is not your responsibility. You owe nothing to people who treat your art like it’s something they’re entitled to mock because it’s free.
You are allowed to write the indulgent thing. The unedited thing. The wildly specific niche trope fic that maybe five people in the world will understand. You're allowed to write for yourself first and only. You're allowed to create joyfully, angrily, messily, or perfectly polished—however you choose. Your writing doesn’t have to be “good enough” for anyone but you. If it resonates with others, that’s just a bonus.
And if anyone tries to act like their criticism is doing you a favour? That they’re “just being honest” or “trying to help”? You are more than welcome to block, delete, ignore, or yeet them straight into the void. You are not a public punching bag. You’re a writer. And that means you get to choose what energy you let near your stories.
So here’s your reminder: Your words have power. Your creativity has value. Your voice belongs here.
Keep writing the things that make you grin at your screen. The things that leave you emotionally wrecked in the best way. The things that make your chest ache and your brain light up. Keep building your worlds, your characters, your love stories, your pain, your softness, your rage.
You are doing something wonderful. Something brave. Something beautiful.
And if someone doesn’t like it?
They can kindly shut up and go read something else.
Mic. Dropped.
P.S. Needless to say, the above also applies to all the amazing artists out there who create fandom art and bring so many of us pure visual joy.
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for the director's commentary ask - what's something neat about Where the Sky Meets the Sea that you wanna talk about?
Hmm... what to talk about...what to talk about...
Here's something let's see where this goes:
Back when the fic was still in its planning stages, I wasn't super sure if I wanted Nya to reciprocate Jay's romantic interest.
My initial instinct was to keep their relationship platonic (which I did ultimately go with), but I hesitated, wondering if I had some biases that kept me from exploring an interesting story option.
Because there is something there about Nya wanting to be in a relationship, but denying her desire because she knows that'll further encourage the public to define her by her gender, something that's already been made clear to be a massive problem for her this season.
While it'd be a neat (and basically cacon) concept to dig into, considering society's general struggle with amatonormativity and rape culture (I know that feels like a heavy word for a lego show, but Jay does canonically spend the season continuing to pursue Nya after ahe says 'no' without facing any consequences, and is in fact ultimately rewarded with the relationship he wanted, which...definitely isn't encouraging feminist thoughts in kids), I ultimately just couldn't end a story where someone says 'no' to a romantic relationship with her getting into that romantic relationship anyway in good conscience.
You may have noticed that the ending to Where the Sky Meets the Sea is in fact very anathema to the idea of obligatory romance. I love how the ending turned out, and I love the idea of the events of Skybound bringing Jay and Nya closer together, but very clearly not in a romantic way, and the characters end up better and happier for it. I love the message Jay growing out of needing romantic validation and learning to check himself sends to the audience. I love how that narrative validates Nya's choices and struggles, something both the Ninjago show and fandom often fail to do.
And I'm not the only one who liked the ending. I've gotten some great comments from people talking about how much they REALLY liked the ending (some of them are even from Jaya shippers, which is super flattering), and it's really awesome to see a platonic version of the main Ninjago ship enjoyed by my audience as much as I enjoyed it.
Bonus fun fact: When I was writing the scene where Jay and Nya rowed up to the lighthouse, this fanart by @penofwildfire was a major inspiration:

I think it's straight-up replaced the actual scene from the show in my brain. It really captures the bleak hopelessness of their situation so well. The show uses a similar colour palette, but the dialogue kind of kills that mood. That scene works so much better in silence.
#i hope you enjoyed...whatever this behind the scenes ramble turned into#Thanks for the ask!#i did not think I'd get any#but i got 2 and am so flattered ^w^#lego ninjago#skybound#where the sky meets the sea
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I'll never understand E/riels... If I was one I would've NEVER talked about that fkn necklace let alone draw Elain in every art with it! like didn't y'all read the part where Azriel called it a mistake and said if he kissed her, he would've regretted it and ABOVE ALL OF THIS AND MOST IMPORTANT PART... Elain gave it back! she doesn't have that necklace... SHE was the one who gave it back, willingly! and yet every time I come across an E/riel art on Pinterest I see her wearing the Necklace...
this alone should proved to us that not one E/riel cares about Elain wants and needs for one second... or canon for the matter of fact...
ps: I saw this one post that they gathered these lines when sjm mmcs are talking about how the fmc brings them to their knees and all of them are about love and devotion but E/riel one is about lust (like this line alone should prove to them how E/riel will never happen but they grasp everything they can and call us out with the exact same thing, that's hypocrite!)... and one of comments had me rolling saying "That's why E/riels lOvE the cAnOn so much awwwwww" LMAO as if y'all weren't the ones 2 years ago commenting on Gwynriel posts how you wanted Elain instead of Gwyn in their scenes 💀😭
The necklace that she returned almost immediately and Truth-Teller. Two things Azriel has given her that she returned.
Truth-Teller is especially hilarious to me because there is always something revealed when it’s on the page. Somehow Feyre asking about whether the cauldron is wrong is more important than the manner Elain gave back the knife as foreshadowing.
“Azriel didn’t expect her to keep it!” “Azriel just lent it to her!”
Well, he sure as hell didn’t ask for it back. Elain made sure she pressed it back to him before he could get a word in and walked away.
The mental gymnastics could have given Simone Biles a run for her money. They spent too much time nitpicking canon that directly argues against whatever arguments they have, and they don't even have a quote to show that Azriel looks at Elain with any sort of yearning or longing. Az's BC is Schrödinger's canon because it's both important and not important to the story.
SJM won't confirm his mate in a bonus chapter, but somehow it's valid to prove that Azriel was pining over Elain, not Mor by the fire?
I said it before and I’ll say it over and over again. For a group who loves to claim that it’s Elain’s choice, Azriel had not once given Elain a choice, and the two times Elain did put herself out there, Azriel had shut her down both times.
My telltale sign that a theory is made by an Elriel is when they emphasize that Elain will make a choice when it comes to her book, and it'll be Az vs Lucien. She'll make a choice, but it's not as shallow as which boy she wants to be with. It'll be whether to stay where she does not belong or take a leap of fate and leave. Because that's what Feyre, Lucien, and Nesta all faced.
The only person who has given her a choice has been her own mate.
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I'm not even sure why I'm writing this, but I felt like I needed to get it off my chest.
My wonderful friend @tavyliasin made a lovely addition to this post about how important giving your friends positive feedback can be to people, specifically former gifted kids, and I wanted to chime in with my own addition but it got super long and wasn't even the original point of the post lmao so here I am.
Anyway, we got some awesome insight about how leaving your lovely feedback is especially beneficial to former gifted kids in the previous post. Under the cut - me rambling about why positive feedback means so much to me, the Chronically Mediocre Kid.
Growing up, I was always painfully mid. I worked my absolute ass off to get my passing grades, and I got them for the most part. I wasn't good enough to be told I was doing well and I wasn't bad enough to actually get any help. Got into uni by the skin of my teeth and my degree the same way. I was stuck in middle-of-the-road land and pretty much always have been, with the exception of one notable outlier in my late 20's.
Now, as the name would suggest, us Mediocre Kids are very easy to forget about. We're just kinda there, and there's a lot of us. The NPCs or the studio extras, filling out space in the background of the class.
So how does this tie into writing or art or fandom in general?
For myself, and probably a lot of other people like me, writing in fandom has been the first real time to get that positive validation beyond "congrats you passed! You achieved the bare minimum!" I didn't get it at school (the place where, upon telling my chemistry teacher that I wanted to study chemistry at uni, was told verbatim "but you have to be smart to study chemistry") and it certainly wasn't at uni (where I had to resit a year and where the defence of my dissertation started with the words "the first thing we hated about it was[...]").
God, looking back I wish I had started posting fan fic so much earlier. Yes, comments are few and far between but when you get them? Oh my god.
Now I want to preface this by saying - Yes, I know that "you shouldn't write for validation" and I absolutely don't. I've been writing since I could hold a pen and only started posting stuff for actual humans to read in October. Does my background sound like that of someone who expected to get validation from strangers online? You can bet your arse that isn't why I'm here. It was just an absolutely massive unexpected bonus.
Fan fiction sent me from "congrats on the bare minimum" to someone telling me my silly AO3 story was their favourite thing they'd ever read on that whole website.
Do you have any idea what that does to someone who has spent their whole life being "good enough"? "Fine"? "Passed"? I was never good or bad enough to receive attention. My performance always "unnoteworthy". And that was fine, I always told myself. Because, as mentioned above, I've always been doing stuff for me and me alone. I learned early there wasn't any point in doing it for anyone else. Do you know how it felt to have a complete stranger reach out to me through the Internet and tell me that something that I had done, something that I had created, had a profound effect upon them?
Folks, I fucking cried.
For someone like me, every single comment, kudos, tag, all of it, is incredibly special. Even a comment as simple as an emoji or "loved this". It puts a little piece into a void in me that I didn't even know was there. It makes me feel as though maybe, if I can make one person happy with my writing, bring someone that kind of joy, there is more to me than just "passing grade".
And let me tell you, I'm still not used to it. It's one of the most wonderful feelings. And if you feel it too, don't ever let anyone make you feel bad for "seeking validation" or whatever. We know that's not why we're here, but my goodness if it doesn't make a difference when we get it.
So, to anyone who has ever given kudos, made a comment, left a tag on a post, any of it - thank you. It means more than I think a lot of people could ever know.
#Fan fiction#Personal#Idk why I wrote this but I cried doing so lol#I probably phrased this badly and missed a bunch of stuff but oh well#I just felt like I had to get it off my chest#Scream it into the void#Thanks void <3#Posted intentionally this time lmao
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