#i might go thru with the rest of the doodle

[luanseatlan]

nurse doodle bc she doesn’t get enough credit for the shenanigans everyone puts her through

[bitchlessdino]

mood rings, drive thru theaters, and the latest issue of tiger beat (m)

Pairing: chan x college student!reader (afab) Genre: angst, smut, fluff Word count: 6.9k tags: SVTHUB COLLAB, set in the 70s, plot twist with dark ending (possibly triggering to some), pwithplot, tutor!reader, busty!reader, pining, brief mention of religion, mention of recreational drugs, mention of death, mention of medicine and medical practice, mention of tragedy (car crash), breeding kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, couch sex, handjob cream pies, dirty talk. Summary: when you fall in love, it can feel like you’ll be with that person forever, that there isn’t another being in the world you rather be with. This case is just as heavy in your youth, tutoring a boy you’ve only ever walked circles around, while you wear a mood ring from his parents souvenir shop so you could feel closer to him. When it happens, you don’t expect things to crash harder than the way they do. author note: she's here!!! i might reedit later but i wanted to get this out before i changed my mind about the plot again so enjoy and check out the rest of the collab!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

Falling in love in the seventies wasn’t easy. You didn’t have mobile phones or text messaging, hell, you were lucky if you had email. Most people didn’t. That’s what made it so much harder to be a person stricken in love. All you had was paper, a pen, and the possibility of hearing something through your home landline.

Every day you would wait for the confirmation call he’d be coming. He was one of the polite ones. You were grateful to have formally met him through the tutoring program held in college and you look forward to that phone call and the weekly meetings every Tuesday and Wednesday to go over organic chemistry. Somewhere in that mix, you had hoped to find your own chemistry with him despite knowing how selfish that’d be.

You’d never admit it loud but you had the classic high school pining back when you attended the same classes in the same town. He was a sweetheart then just like he was a sweetheart now and you longed for him like any other teenager. He had you doodling combinations of your names together in a worn out notebook and cherishing an item you secretly associated with only him. Yours was a mood ring.

In the summer of 74’, a new souvenir shop had just opened around the block after countless failed businesses by previous owners. This shop was owned by the Lees, a cute mom-and-dad duo that was sweeter than any cream-filled Twinkee. There was not a thing intimidating about them. They seemed like good people. What you weren’t ready for was their son working the register that day.

What was it about a man in wide leg jeans and a tight fitted shirt that made you want to physically fall to your knees?

At the time, he was wiping a glass candy tray rather meticulously. He has only greeted whoever came in without looking, too focused on getting every dust particle out of every crevice, so he didn’t notice how you found him to be the most interesting sight you’ve seen.

His smile when seeing the swell job he’s done was priceless compared to every piece of merchandise in the store. If there was a chance you could bottle up and take it away for keeps, you would. You would tell the local newspaper this store would be a new world wonder just from this boy alone. 

You had to pinch yourself to finally pull your eyes away from him, scanning for something, anything, interesting enough to purchase and ring it up with him. Finally, your eyes land on something colorful, ever-changing, and wearable.

“Will that be all for today?”

You nodded, holding back a wide grin as you watched him run through your purchase. His smile never faltered in front of you, and for some reason, it made you feel special, despite the assumption he probably smiled in front of anyone who came in. Still, it made an impression.

“That’ll be a dollar please and since you’re a new customer,” he picked something from a box behind the counter, “a pack of now and laters for the road. You can have one now and another later. They’re great.”

God, he’s cute.

You mused at him, accepting the ring and freebie after paying him up front. “Thank you.”

“Have a great day. Catch you on the flip side!”

You waved back at him on your exit, immediately regretting not staying longer to chat. As expected, your mind went blank the second he spoke to you, and the moment you were alone, you slid on the mood ring on your ring finger and focused all of your energy on thinking about the questions you could’ve asked. For him, that was like any interaction, but for you, it’ll be a core memory. 

It was throughout the years you realized that you’d be attending the same high school, sharing the same senior year, experiencing the same last year festivities, but despite the many opportunities, you never had an encounter like that with him again. You’d pass by that souvenir shop countless times, glancing at him while he worked every shift, but cowardly never approached him again. Not with the lack of trying, of course, your adolescent self was too busy to find a way to make him fall in love with you according to whatever you read in Tiger Beat.

You remember flipping through it, back and forth, momentarily distracted by the boyish charm of David Cassidy, and then going back to reread it in case you missed something. This had been your adolescent bible to understand whatever was on trend because only God knew you needed it. Somedays, you’d pretend you were talking with him through your magazine posters. Now that was a face deserving to be in magazines.

“You’re still thinking about that boy? Just talk to him already.”

Even your closest friend, Stacey, couldn't get your head out of the clouds. 

You adamantly shook your head, the magazine clung to your chest. “No, absolutely not. Me talking to him wouldn’t even happen in my dreams. In fact, I’d probably have to pay admission to see him in my dreams.”

She rolled her eyes, letting you get back to whatever exactly you were doing. “Okay, drama queen. We get it. You like a boy.”

She was used to this at that point and it’d be all the same. You never outgrew it entering colleges either, the same one he happened to attend, which you couldn’t have been more stoked to find out. “He’s not just any boy, Stacey. he’s the boy. He’s so far out. I can’t even fathom his existence.”

You were in fact exaggerating, but at the ripe age of 18 all of it felt sincere and you truly did believe it was all true.

And to think you hadn’t formally met him yet until you started participating as a tutor in a peer help program at your University. You didn’t expect much of it, only thinking of collecting some community hours and hopefully maintaining a good reputation with your professors and there he was, like fate. There he should, hair coifed in intentional pristine, a loosely buttoned vibrant green shirt, and familiar tightly fitted pants that flared from the bottom. 

Your breathing seized, stunned by the sheer fact you have stood this close to him since the first time your eyes laid on him. When he turned to you, he didn’t seem to notice your reluctance to walk closer as he strode confidently in your direction. 

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Lee Chan. You're my tutor, right?”

Your heart sounded like a metronome at the highest speed at this point, taking your breathing in little by little, timidly returning him with your own introduction. Safe to say, you were both scared out of your mind, yet excited about this turn of events. Though, if you thought about it too hard, you had the chance of rendering tutorship useless and then it’s farewell to Chan.

That’s when you made the executive decision to omit him from your head during these sessions and treat him like any other peer needing help, as you initially intended with anyone you were assigned. If you wanted to continue these sessions and help out Chan, you needed to do more than think about what your future looked like together with 2.5 kids and a big picket fence.

You picked up a polite smile and settled in at a table, flipping a textbook to the first chapter of the course. Fortunately, he followed just as any other person struggling in chemistry and attempted to keep up with the lesson plan. As expected, you’d stumble over many of your teachings, forgetting some of the information yourself and having to refer to the book due to the blinding glow of your student, but as time passed, things eventually were more tolerable.

It was a few months later found an easier medium of being infatuated with the young man but helpful enough to pass the assignments in the above-average percentage. He just happened to be a good student that required more patience. Somewhat, it made you warm to learn that about him, including the fact he was good at listening, or how his eyes lit up picking up a lesson and recalling from memory. However, you kept this situation mostly professional, avoiding social interactions that would take away from your role. That was until Chan found comfort in spending time with you, having a sense of gratitude much grander than anyone teaching him Aldol reactions or valence electrons.

You could feel his soft gaze as you outlined something on his study sheet, emphasizing its importance since it’s appearing in the final he’d be taking eventually. If this were you back in the days of learning his name for the first time and thinking about him every waking second, you’d faint right about now. You’d be lying right now if you said you didn’t feel dizzy from the heat of his presence, but as you have been for the time spent together in the library, you’ve trained yourself to ignore it while mastering to subdue your intrusive thoughts.

Chan somehow found a way around that.

“Oh, your ring. Looks like the one in my parents' shop.”

You momentarily glanced back at the trinket before zone backing into today’s lesson, awkwardly chuckling to yourself. “Oh. Ha ha, that’s because it is.”

His eyes lit up the way they do, a cartoonish gleam in his eyes. “Really? I think I’d remember seeing you.”

“It was once a really long time ago.”

“Well, you should visit again. I can give you a good discount. We just got a big shipment of pop rocks.”

“Okay, sure.” You smiled, internally giggling at the thought of Chan entertaining himself with explosive candy and sharing it with you like the coolest treasure. “Alright. Organic compounds—“

“We really met before?” He interrupted.

“It really was so long ago. I’d be surprised if you did remember.”

“Well, I feel bad. I feel like there’s time it should be making up.”

You waved it off, not minding the now teary expression of guilt on his face. “It’s fine, Chan.”

“How about we go and watch a movie? I think the drive thru is replaying ‘The Godfather’. You should come with me.”

“Really? I don’t know.”

“Come on, consider it a thanks. You don’t even get paid for all the time you’ve spent teaching me.”

“No, but I get community hours. Speaking of teaching.” He placed his hand over yours, cuffing off the words caught in your throat. You find yourself helpless at the sweat pleas of Chan who works the cute angle all too well as he scooted closer to you. “I don’t think I can rest knowing I haven’t found a way to thank you. You’ve been tutoring me for 4 months. The least I can do is take you out.”

You’re a bit stunned, your leg already shaking in nerves as you never expected such a proposal to easily leave his lips and for you nonetheless. You exhaled, mustering the courage to meet his eyes before nothing, pressing your lips to discourage an all too gleeful smile. “Fine. We’ll watch ‘The Godfather’.”

He let you go, beaming, and tracking his pencil tracking over his notebook filled with chicken scratch that was comprehensible to him. “Good, I can pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated before gluing his eyes back on the textbook, a noticeable hue of peak creeping up the back of his neck. “So, organic compounds...”

This arrangement was all you could think about until the day of, reading and rereading your magazines for possible outfit ideas, dating tips, and anything with the potential of making the best of this nerve-wracking situation.

On the day of, you got in your best get up just in time for the meetup. Anxiously, you turned your mood ring around your finger as you waited by the door, contemplating to yourself if what you chose was the right course of action. When the knock came, you came swinging the door open and pinched yourself from swooning seeing him in casual attire, including jeans that hugged his hips just right.

Chan, on the other hand, didn’t hide his emotions. Bright and animated, you grew hot under his watch, fiddling with the mood ring now on your middle finger and seeing it glare back a yellowish orange, indicating how nervous you really were. He took cautious steps towards you, mouth falling in awe, and he tugged at his band tee, which now felt lackluster compared to what his eyes were now seeing. “You look really good. I feel underdressed.”

“No, no,” you said, shaking your head and stepping down from the porch. “I just threw something on.”

“Well,” he offered an elbow, “shall we?”

You accepted his offer and hooked it through, hiding your elation. “Of course.”

He escorted you to the car and guided you to the passenger seat before closing the door, allowing you a moment to swallow the spaciousness of his station wagon before heading off to the theater. 

Cars beside cars, people neither mingling, making out, or taking advantage of the concession stands with 25-cent popcorn and pop. The sun was in the process of setting before it became a violet hue and eventually pitch black, perfect for movies. You got out of the car and smoothed out the wrinkles of your outfit, taking another deep breath.

You only had a fleeting second seeing him come out from the driver's seat, a smile settling on his face for what felt like you and only you.

Then came the hoard. Voices calling out Chan’s name, boys and girls his age gathered around him, offering his gregarious greetings and rowdy conversation. They hounded him with hugs, not minding you who stood off from the side behind the cat. Your expression dropped, starting from your smile before spreading over your body language. Chan, remembering your existence, tugged you from the hood and brought you to his side. He briefly introduced you as his tutor, and you did your best to greet them back just as politely.

They nodded at you, sly faces towards Chan as if you wouldn’t notice, and then came their bombarding again, only this time in your presence. You kept up the calm facade, only laughing when necessary before turning to the person who brought you here. “Nice to meet you all. Hey, Chan. I’m gonna get some snacks.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

You didn’t let the disappointment show on your face as you walked away but let it fall free as your back was towards the group. You hear their teasing and playful banter, questioning if you’re really just his tutor and Chan confirming, leaving no implication for anything else. You crossed your arms in embarrassment, already regretting letting this situation occur, imagining the worst scenarios to come.

You quietly asked for popcorn and a grape pop, greeted with your refreshments a few moments later, along with a box of raisinets. Your lips parted in confusion. “Oh, I didn’t order these.”

“On the house,” the guy winked, leaning over the counter a little too close for comfort, “a secret promotion for cuties like yourself.”

“Ah,” you gave him a tight-lipped grin, visibly distancing yourself, “thanks.”

“You know, I can always sneak away from my post for little liplock in—“

“Hey, you doing alright? I was worried about you.” You didn’t have to look to know. His body came crashing into yours. An arm slung over your shoulder, an action almost as natural as breathing. “Do you have enough?”

Your eyes flickered toward Chan who came to your rescue, nodding curtly. “Huh? Y-yeah.”

Chan met the seller's eyes before accepting your purchase for you, handing you over only the popcorn. You stared at the box of raisinets before he tugged you away from the stand.

“I did good, right? I’ve been told that guy’s a creep. I didn’t know he worked here.” His whisper sent chills through your body, yet burned your ears. You could feel the fanning of his breath, tickling your skin and raising every hair in your body.

“Me neither.”

“He’s not a good guy. You see him around, walk in the other direction ok?”

You nodded, taking his advice into serious thought. “Thanks, Chan.”

When it’s clear you’re out of sight, he parted from you, keeping his hands down his pockets, visibly apologetic. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with that. He just won’t let it go unless he finds out you have a boyfriend or something.”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“Let’s get back to the others, hmm?”

You spent most of the night with Chan and his friends. Some laughed at how cheesy the movie was or actually scared of what was actually occurring (Chan was a mix between the two). You’d enjoy it more if you weren’t a bit bothered by the circumstances. All you could was glance in Chan's direction while he smiled and laughed along with his friends. Even though you were sitting next to him in the same car hood, you never felt further away. Every direction tonight felt like a punch in the gut, having only spoken to him before the movie started. At this point, you felt as if you had no place here, blinking away the humiliation tears threatening to fall.

“I’m a little cold. so I’m gonna finish the movie in the car.”

Finally, his eyes landed on you, “What?”

You slid off the hood and dusted yourself. Chan followed behind you confused before seating himself inside the car with you, a worried expression on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not.” You splayed a less genuine smile, raising your cheekbones for good measure, but seeing its failure to convince otherwise.

“That means I did do something wrong,” he said, smiling bitterly. “Sorry. I’m not the best at picking up cues.”

“I told you, Chan. I just got cold.”

He sighed and turned to reach for something behind, pulling over something thick and warm over your body, covering your torso and legs. “Here. So you won’t catch anything.”

There’s that familiar clang to your heart you should be used to by now, following the marching band that typically arrives after inside your chest. “Thank you.”

You both sat in silence for a bit, continuing to watch the rest of the movie. He makes so attempt to communicate with his friends outside and he doesn’t smile, only focusing on the movie, insistent on being in your presence. You aren’t sure how to behave, fingers inching at lingering awkwardness.

“If I’m being honest,” You started saying, filling the charged air with something other than tension, “I didn’t expect to see that many people with us.”

“You didn’t?”

You shook your head. “I misunderstood all on my own. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just finish the movie.”

“Hey—“

“I’m feeling warmer already,” You said, grinning as yourself deeper into the blanket.

Your eyes were ready to train back in the movie before he spoke again, hearing a tone in his voice you weren’t all that familiar with. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable alone with me. I guess I did anyway.”

Guilt festered in the out of your stomach, regretting making a big scene out of nothing. “That’s not—“

“I got scared,” he admitted, the corner of his lips quirking up in a self-loathing grin. “They already saw my tickets so they thought they would get some too. Make it a group thing. I didn’t want it initially, but I thought, maybe it’d make things easier…I should’ve run it by you.”

You met his eyes, earnest yet soft. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this, processing his confession slowly. A fit of emotions wash over him and you see now the inner conflict that he had dealt with, somehow washing you over with relief. The final deep exhale you let out was solace, thinking to yourself how situations like this only happen in movies and books. You’re warm all over, an overwhelming urge to reach over and hug him, a fellow rambling mess.

“You didn’t misunderstand anything. I did want to go to the movies with you, but I wasn’t sure if you felt pressure or—“

You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. He stiffened under your touch, blinking back at you like a lost child. You smiled back at him from ear to ear and body leaned over on his side. “Just hold my hand. We’re not going to cause any more misunderstandings. Okay?”

He matched you, his pearly whites staring back at you as pretty as ever. “Okay.” His thumb caressed over your fingers, noticing something interesting as he did so. “It’s purple.”

“Hmm,” You looked down at your clasped hands, noticing that same thing he did: your mood ring in a solid rich purple. “It is.”

“Do you remember what purple means?”

You avoid edhis eyes, quietly laughing to yourself. “You know better than anyone.”

“I do.” He tightened his grip, head leaning against your shoulder and it felt as if time had stopped. You don’t doubt that he can hear your heart racing right or your uneven breathing. He turned the ring around your digit, watching how the colors periodically shift. “I won’t let there be any more misunderstandings.”

Since that incident, you went about your tutoring sessions as normal, with the additional intimacy that didn’t exist before. You both gradually developed these sessions into more study dates and then they became real dates. Things only became official when the semester finally ended and he continued wanting to see you, visiting your place whenever you got the chance using any possible excuse.

You could remember how happy you felt at the time. The relief there was to know he liked you back. It was almost as if you were living a dream. A damn perfect dream.

Then your first kiss came around. You were as nervous as anyone anticipating the first. Every doubt in the past didn’t matter, only now did. Everything all led up to this point. It just happened in the way you least expected it to.

You didn’t know why he insisted on teaching you how to play arcade games when he was just as bad. Still, it was cute seeing him try so hard. The firmness of his back followed your movement, guiding you to the right combos, shifting the joystick to move in the right direction, and although it was all wrong, you appreciated the back hug you were getting in return. Even the claw machine had to be a teaching lesson, insisting he had something to teach you. 

“I did it. Chan, I did it!” You saw the stuffed dinosaur grabbed by the metal prongs, dropping right into the winner’s slot. You bounced on your feet cheering and took Chan along with you, hugging him tightly as your inner child healed and squealed at your achievement.

“I knew you could! You’re amazing.” His strong arms came around you firmly, pressing you against the glass of the machine.

Your breath was seized, replaced with weightlessness and tension in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to leave and perhaps you didn’t want it to. Although he didn’t pull away from the embrace, he parted far enough to meet your eyes and the longing in them. He knew what it was because that’s what was in his eyes, falling into their trance like a lucid dream that had him higher than any recreational drug. Neither one of you was willing to let it go, so all you do is stare. Stare at each other like you’re in your own world and no one else’s. As if life as you know it ceased to exist except for you and Chan. Nothing else matters.

When it felt as if you could imagine a more perfect moment, he leaned in with closed eyes, finding your lips like they were a second home and stealing your breath. You thought to lean in to kiss him deeper, but he already had found his grasp and pressed into you closer against the glass, feeling every ounce of muscle and shape of his body beneath his clothes. His shallow breath against yours, his hug of lips pulling at your bottom lip, and he emitted a soft grunt.

He pulled away from you with his arms still wrapped around your sides, shocked by his impulsivity. He stroked the side of your head, scanning for any fear in your eyes, slightly relieved to see any in sight. “I’m sorry. That was…a lot, huh?”

You shook your head reassuringly. “No.”

“Then I can kiss you again?”

The corners of your lips turned up, gripping his jean jacket to pull him closer. “Yes.”

You were kissing for hours that day and the next day, and then again the day after. Since then, something has shifted and these teenage dreams turned reality into something less family friendly. Your nights in his dorm became more frequent, more intimate, and always backed by a melody thanks to a record player gifted to him by his dad when he moved out. His prized possession, besides you anyway, as he claimed.

“What do you want to be when you’re older,” he asked, dragging his digits in and out between yours. He smiled, noticing your mood ring turning a mix of pink and purple before kissing your knuckles. “You know I want to be a nurse. What’s your dream?”

In the background was Led Zeppelin, their intoxically addictive tune spinning on the table. You thought to yourself a bit before turning your head back up at him, nuzzling closer into his warm touch before answering. “I want…to be surrounded by the people I love.”

He laughed like he heard the sweetest thing on planet Earth before his fingers threaded through your hair. “Baby, that’s sweet but not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant, but it’s what I want. It doesn’t matter much what I do, as long as I’m with my loved ones.”

“Am I one of these loved ones? Do you love me?” 

“Yeah. I love you.” You didn’t even hesitate, the words were always on the tip of your tongue until that final push. You lifted alight above him to repeat yourself louder. You let him heed your words. “I think I really love you.”

You thought he’d react differently, more scared and unsure but—“I love you too.”

“Chan,” you smile, warm filling your inside as you let your breath chase away the race in your chest.

“I mean it.” He bent his head down to meet your lips, cupping your cheek with the warmth of his palm. “I really, really love you.”

Chan toppled over you, lips meeting yours repeatedly in a heated frenzy, caressing your body and holding you desperately against him as you did the same to him. He kept you between his legs, whispering it over and over, ‘I love you, I love you,’ blistering and marking your skin. How was it that made you feel as if you weren’t allowed to breathe? 

Before you realize it, clothes started coming off. Piece by piece. As ‘Babe I’m gonna leave you’ replayed, shirts, belt, pants, and everything underneath fell to the ground. You saw him. You saw all of him. And he saw all of you. Your instinct was to shield away, be conscious of your then and there but in his own way, he reassures you, speaking to you as though all his words were nothing but the earnest truth. “I’m here. You’ll never have to worry about me not being here. I love you so much.”

Your flesh spilled through his fingers, imprinting his hands through your nude. Sounds of worship leaving his lips between every kiss, not even the worry of lack of condoms could stop him. Your thighs were glued to his hips, and you felt the warmth of his length titter to your fresh heat. You moaned every time you met lips, every bite he gave to your skin, and every full twist his fingers made with your sensitive buds before filling the inside of his oral cavity of your full breast.

You ached to have him in you, hand barely reaching his girth before wrapping a tight wrist around him. He shuddered at your touch, thrusting through the circle of your palm. You felt the need in his movement as he grinded down on his couch, not minding the wool burn inevitable to be left behind. Weak chuckles escaped his lips and he flashed you a smile, seconds away from melting into helpless groans. “You know just how to handle me…”

“Only because you treat me so well.”

Kissing one breast and then the other, he reached your lips as he held your thighs against the sides of his torso. “And I’ll do it for as long as I’m alive.”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself against him, his warm breath tickling the tip of your nose. “Make love to me. I wanna feel you inside me.”

“Then I won’t wait a second longer.”

The moment you felt him inside you, you felt higher than anything you could find in a blunt offered by the shady next-door neighbor. You buckled into him, lifting your hips off the couch for a fully bloomed taste. The stretch he left had your jaw falling, clutching to his shoulder, and letting out exasperated breaths. You nearly choked on your own spit that had only forced it down when he picked up the pace.

You molten walls only sucked him in deeper, calling his name in blurred whines. Each thrust and each kiss was fueled by an undying passion. He carried you, palm to your back and your legs around his waist, and pulled you on top of him. From beneath you, he drilled your insides, meeting your longing expression. 

Your fingers draped over his face, and you held on to his blissful expression that occasionally dropped in anguish when chasing after his rhythm. You whined his name desperately, clinging to him as you dug down your hips down his lap. He moaned louder than before, gingerly cupping your breasts and finding your stiff nipples between his fingers.

“You feel so good taking me…and your tits are so soft and warm.” He pushed himself to thrust hard, pleased with how easily you easily bounced against him, watching your flesh moving loud and fluidly like water. “You’re so perfect to hold, and love, and fuck my dick into—shit.”

Your chest rose and fell catching up with his efforts. “Chan, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So, so, so—fuck!”

You felt his grip grow tighter and saw his jaw drop lower. His legs clenched to your sides impulsively, unwilling to let go. Soon enough, he couldn’t take it anymore and came inside you. He looked as if everything in his brain told him not to, but it seemed that nothing could stop the geyser within him from coating your insides with hot ivory. He snapped into you in an erratic rhythm, cum spilled in you and out of him until it stained the wool underneath.

Chan was red in the face, both in embarrassment and heat. He looked up at you in panic at the direness of circumstance considering neither one of you thought to stay protected. “Shit, fuck,” he exclaimed still pumping inside you, “you feel so good. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, bending down to kiss him. “It’s okay, just don’t stop…please…”

His stressed expression melted, as did his fingers into your skin. He caressed over your sides with love in his eyes, swallowing nervously. “Really, baby? That ok?”

Perspiration coated his skin, beading down his adam’s apple as it bobbed. You felt like mush in his touch, letting your hips make use of the natural lubricant. Your boyfriend groaned at the sound of the slick moisture sliding over his skin. You cupped his face in your hands, working your jaw in a needy liplock. “Yes, please. Fuck your cum in me, please.”

His fingers tensed, dragging your lips to slap down on his. He exhaled slowly, your walls hugging his cock erect. He asked in a breathy voice, “Fuck my cum in you…my pretty girlfriend wants something so dirty done to her?”

“Yes, yes, please…” You whined.

He slammed up into you, feeling how he’s already bottoming out inside you. Hearing you moan his name lit a fire beneath him and he rolled you on your back to rut in you like a merciless animal. 

“You want my cum in you, hmm? Fill you up with my cum and put my fat load in you?”

You jerked in the opposite direction, your skin smacking against each other causing the tenderness of your skin. “Yes, please,” You choked out, “I want it all with you.”

His lips picked up from the corner in a smirk, turning you back over to plant you against the couch while his feet finally touched the ground. “You want it all? Like a life? A family? You want me to build a family with me…have me fuck my babies into you?”

“Yes, baby, please. I want you to fill me up so I can make you a daddy.”

“You love me that much?” He slammed into you with a proud smile. “You love me so much you see your future with daddy?”

You batted your lashes back at him. “I see every day either full of joy or full of your cum inside me.”

He snickered before biting his lips in a filthy moan, “Such a dirty mouth on the mother of my kids.”

You’re spent by the time your legs gave out, and you and your boyfriend exhausted your bodies to the point you couldn’t move even an inch off the couch. Cum seeped out of your holes like sap, only halted as you pressed your legs together to get comfortable. Chan had barely enough energy to tug a blanket off from behind him and throw it over your bodies. You smiled into his warmth, nuzzling into his chest, and inhaling his lusty musk. 

You moaned in satisfaction. “Mmh, I like this…”

“Me too.” He hummed.

“I never want this to end.”

“And it won’t,” he said, kissing the temple of your forehead.

“Are you hungry?”

You moaned. “Starving.”

He chuckled, holding you closer to him as his voice dropped an octave. “Let’s fill you up with something, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you lightly shoved him. “Chan…”

“Food, babe,” he said with a cheeky smile, “get your mind out of the gutter.”

After a quick shower, and a few wet kisses in between, you’re set to refresh yourselves with some fast food and can’t help but be filled with elation. You cozied into the passenger seat accepting the hand he’s offered as the other steadied the wheel. You can’t help but notice how he glanced every now and then when he shouldn’t, making you nudge him to fix his gaze.

It was always a loving one, one that you’d forever burn in your memory. You don’t even know why, but you shed a tear looking at it. That smile of his seems to go on for miles and brightens your day like the morning sun. You felt it in your heart. Something suffocating that you couldn’t describe but all you think in your head is that this was love and that loving Chan would be the easiest thing you could do.

He sent you another glance before making a turn, one a little longer than the few before, then all you heard was a loud blaring honk, your voice screaming his name, and then your vision went pitch black. You stared into darkness. Emptiness. Nothing was in sight. 

That was until your eyes were open again. You woke in a place of all white, smelling of antiseptic and a hint of febreeze. You slowly blinked, scanning the room, unmoving. Still, in fact.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine. Sleep well?”

You only could see who entered when they walked in your field of vision. Your eyes stared in shock at the sight of your boyfriend, smiling back at you in scrubs as he wrote away in his clipboard and looking as if he hadn’t aged a day. You internally screamed at your body to move, crying from within the inside at the inability, and then soon growing tired, realizing it’d never be possible. As he put away documents in a file holder pinned to the high wall, you stressed your throat to speak, hoping for the least a sound to follow, but instead, it was your silence.

“I’ll just open the blinds a bit, make sure they’re not too much light in your eyes. Too bad your nap was a little long. The weather was so good. I thought we could roll you out into the garden.”

You are losing your mind. The last thing you could remember was a car accident that felt like mere seconds ago and staring into the eyes of the man before you, who matched the love in your eyes. Now you’re imprisoned in your own immobile body, with no clue why and how the love of your life survived when you barely did.

“Your heart is pounding. Wait a second.”

Chan strode over to the monitor just out of view, forcing yourself to rely on your peripheral to watch him. His side profile and his body were all within reach but unassessable. You felt the sweat of your palm through the sheer determination alone, but to no avail, he stayed away from your grasp.

“Hmm, we’ll have to figure that out.”

Finishing up, he stood in front of you like a figure of light radiating brightness unfathomable to man. A light bright enough to fully grasp your reality. Your true reality.

That’s right. He’s not your boyfriend. You were never together.

You’ve been the way you were for two years, by a car accident nonetheless. This was Nurse Lee–your caretaker and nurse–who insisted you call him by name and talked to you as if you could talk right back. 

And this wasn’t the 1970s. It was the 2070s. 

Your gaze quickly turned to “Three's a Company” playing on the highly advanced TV plastered on the wall, momentarily surprised that they still had the show on cable, before snapping right back to your nurse, now going on about the daily work gossip. You couldn’t help but stare again, watching his handsome face turn up in a smile every time something delightful popped into his pretty little head as he spoke. Your eyes fluttered in remorse, a familiar sinking feeling in your chest as you inhaled and exhaled through your breathing tubes.

It all made so much sense. Too much in fact. Here you were in dreamland living in disbelief that someone as sweet and kind and Charming as Lee Chan—nurse Lee Chan—would ever be someone so madly in love with you. You lived a happy and healthy and normal life in your dreams, shutting off from the dark truth of your world is, as if you’ve never been in this accident. You dreamt of life before it was taken away before you narrowly escaped death.

If you could call this escaping death anyway. You were practically dead.

And perhaps the worst part—

“Vivian liked the flowers you suggested. I think she’ll finally stop being mad at me thanks to you.” 

He gently moved your head to fluff the pillow behind you and placed you back on top. He brushed away a hair that strayed over your face, and you felt a sensation pulse through your fingers. “I wish you could meet her. You’ve always been there to listen to me talk about the wedding planning, the bridal stuff, and then the actual wedding. I hope you liked the photos, the guy we hired was—phew—a pretty penny.”

You started to blink rapidly, seeing your reality crumbling before you, and all he could do was look as devastatingly beautiful as always, even with the dark circle under his eyes from long hours of work. 

“I talk a lot, huh? That’s what you’re thinking. Sorry, you’ve always been a listener, not that you can help it.” He chuckled to himself. “Sorry, dark joke. I’m sure if you could move now, you’d laugh.”

No, you wouldn’t.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second. Don’t worry.” 

He did the last round of his thorough check-up of your room before standing by the door with his clipboard in hand. Clicking his pen, he turned back to you one last time with a smile now turned bittersweet.

“Any day now. Your heart pulses a little faster every day. Your family is waiting for you. And because I’ve grown attached to you I’m waiting for you too. Maybe after all this, we could be friends, then you can tell me how much you love or hate when I talk to you. Just as long as you’re up and running again.”

The moment the door closed, you were alone again. The fluid built in your tear ducts finally found their escape and streamed down your still face, facing their discomforting warmth. Your chest heaved, your grew breaths shallow, your throat went dry, and suddenly your lips quivered. In solitude and sheer desperation, you said your first words in years.

“Chan…come…back…”

But it didn’t matter.

[starrvlight]

Try that shit again and I'll kill you

WARNING: FIGHTING, SWEARING

A/N:PLEASE THIS IT AN AMAZING IDEA!! (like every other idea that was requested!!) AND SOO SO SO SORRY IVE BEEN PUTTING TJE WRIHING OFF THE THE SIDE BECAUSE HAVE HAD A LOT OF HW TO DO!!

Scenario:you and barren used to date, at first it was nice. he showed you off, showered you with love, but then.. one day it was like something snapped in him- he was irritable- yelled at you - manipulative and would sometimes hit you. Then one day you met Aiden, then he introduced you to the rest of the group! that was when you broke things off with barren, ofc he was yelling at you, hitting you- But the group was there to back you up, especially Aiden. a couple months later he kinda awkwardly confessed his love to you

You and the group were hanging out, a little while ago you had gotten with Aiden when he confessed, you said you wanted to keep it private and withing the group, he understands why and honestly he prefers it that way too.. until someone heard the 2 of you, him half jokingly calling u cheesy nicknames and went around telling everyone. It was only a matter of time before it- shit. He already did.

It's been a week of him and his group, following you around judging you on every little thing that you do, the way you walk, laugh, the way you BREATH. It was so stupid,.then they finally cornered you, beating you up, you were shaking and covered in bruises, and a couple cuts, then you hear some rusting

"WHAT THE FUCK?! GET THE HELL OFF ME"

Barren cursed while you glanced up you say the 2 other boys of barrens group trying to get Aiden off barren, Aiden was on top barren, Aiden still had his smile on his face but he look more.. scary?

"Try that shit again and I fucking kill you."

Aiden said with a smile as he chuckled you rushed up to him and pulled him off barren

"Aiden- what- where- HUH?!"

You stutterd out, you didn't even know where to start or how to say anything, Aiden looked at you bruises and scares, some bruises were a bit purple, He tried calm himself down and he grabbed you hand dragging you away to the nurses office, he wanted to stay with you in the office but was told to go to class and he tried convincing them to him stay,, after all the nurses was just disinfecting the cuts and putting bandaids on you cuts. He ending up actually giving up and going to clear, meeting up with the rest of the group. He obviously told them what happened to you, of course everyone was pretty pissed, especially cuz you didn't say anything to them! They could have help.

Soon you back arrive class, and sit down in your seat and just getting straight to work, planning on asking ash or Taylor for the rest of the notes during lunch, 2 periods later lunch comes and you sit with the other, smiling

"Hey! Ash do u have the rest of the notes for social studies?"

And say as you sit next to Aiden, everyone looked up as soon as they heard you voice

"Y/n! Hey- why didn't you tell up what barren was doing."

Taylor said, with a nervous smile, not wanting to make you uncomfortable and looked around then look at your binder that was covered with doodles not know now to explain it.

"..i..just- didn't wanna worry anyone..or cause more trouble"

you mumbled and you looked back up everyone was looking at you then began to tell u about how their going to be with you and help you thru anything while Aiden has his hand on you back rubbing comforting circles on you back with his thumb,

I MIGHT make a 2nd part to think but I'm not 100% sure on that part:)

[holymaccaronii]

im sorry i absolutly love BE

I see AM as a father figure for some struggles I got and BE is sooo well writed for me I couldnt help but slowly see her as a mother figure as well,,,,UGH i love her you writed her so well pls ramble more about her(BE and AM are even divorced just like my irl parents/j)

Ou anon you don't know how happy you make me when knowing you see AM and BE that way + asking me for rambles. Of course I'll ramble comforting facts abt BE and her behavior towards AM. I might've mentioned a few things before but i dont rlly mind. Have some rambles below the cut and a doodle :P

So first an introduction shall we? We might explain some background as well despite being repeated a lot. As her lore dictates, BE was born from the materials of a much bigger ai implanted on the moon after HEL-102 (former human that was part of the mission turned into a dictator) tore it apart and built his society + kingdom. She spent a good while in there being used as a role model (with other units like her too) for lower-class units to believe that, if they worked hard enough, they could achieve to be upgraded into her type of model. This being all a big lie. She lived a life seemingly flawless and perfect... but at last, it was her own curiosity, determination and hope that got her out of that hell she realized she was in. She eventually meets AM after a series of events on earth and she gifts him the ability to be anything and do anything he wanted, their relationship eventually grows and grows...

Facts about BE herself:

-Up in the moon, she used to accompany HEL-102 to his personal theater a lot. She gained an interest for dancing in there + learned her classic "to be or not to be" phrase during a play.

-Her exposed cables showcase their current temperature thru colors. Her core/closed body is the warmest area, thus why you can see red/orange colors in there. Her hair and arms are the most stable areas, but if touched/affected they can vary on color patterns. This also means that she can give you a warm or cool hug whenever you need it c:

-BE is able to configure your body to dream about something specific, and she uses this feature to avoid any nightmares on her survivors. As long as there is not another evil ai trying to access your dreams, you'll get a guaranteed good rest.

-BE can grant you about any wish as long as it doesn't pose a threat to you, her, or anybody. Want to have a profession or be someone? Sure! Want to go somewhere and experience the place of your dreams? Of course! Want to have a cat? Have 15! Her power is limitless as long as she uses it above the surface.

-I headcanon her voice to be similar to the one of Rose Quartz (SU).

Facts about BEAM (yep that's their ship name):

-I have mentioned it many times alr but BE literally provided him anything he wished for and even things he didn't know he wanted... mainly to receive different forms of affection and the ability to shapeshift. Their relationship relies heavily on comfort from BE's part, since she believed he was abandoned and thus deserved all the affection she gave him.

-BE wasn't really allowed to be too affectionate or expressive up in the moon, but with AM, she could show as much love as she wanted.

-She was all in for physical and verbal demonstrations of affection. She LOVED to do stuff like face smooches, teeth smooches (since well yk about my AM), rubbing, scratching and cuddling.

-At some point she also started to call AM names such as dear, sweetheart or honey, and he initially had to eat these up to not give her his real-self impression, but as time passed by he got used to them.

-To comfort him she also used her abilities to create and transform matter with her code as well, allowing him to shapeshift and enjoy life not necessarily in a human body.

-Annnd you guessed it right anon, they do behave as motherly and fatherly figures towards the survivors, BE forming a bond with them ever since they proved their worth and values to her as humans, and AM forming a bond when they accepted to help him get back together with BE. The ending of that route gets even better but I won't spoil that :p

I hope these were good rambles and sorry for the wait tehee

[dirtyoldmanhole]

this man continues to have my two brain cells in a vice, so making a mini to do list of prompts/ideas/related shenanigans on the checklist, roughly in order of how fleshed out they are:

finish conquest already omg (finished three chapters last night and i'm 90% sure i'll get thru the last two in the next few work nights since i need something sfw to work on while company's over UNLIKE THE REST OF THIS LIST lol)

this spanking fic, (i'm like, 90% sure i want it to be a fic but art will probably happen too) but it's a pretty short and filthy drabble, and i'm hoping a good proving ground for getting gunter's voice right especially in "early life disciplinarian mode"

short erotic whipping strip when she's older (NOT TEN PANELS long) because i want that to lead into this bootlicking doodle......... i already.... have.... >_>

'niles gives them the idea that fates!viagra exists, the weirdly sweet erectile dysfunction fic' (i do truly want to start including other characters! and i feel like he'd be a great one to get their off-kilter dynamic.)

literally the only platonic fic idea on this list: gunter talks to azura in valla when she saves his life - both physically, and also, a growing headcanon that talking to her and her song lowkey heals some of his old, old emotional wounds as well.

hot springs doodles, might be a setting for a fic somewhere or just shameless fanservice/smut

fuzzy ideas for 'corrin breaks the news she's pregnant to gunter with kana and he kinda has a BSOD' it's a little sad! plotting that out is weirdly shaking out a lot of lines since it's making his insecurity of corrupting her really apparent since they can't just ... stealth mode that. also the nohr sibs each have their reaction.

(edit: oh my god backstory implications makes this A THOUSAND TIMES SADDER FUCK ........ okay this one's going to be an emotional wreck)

(THAT SAID there is a genuinely hilarious line in there re: gunter asking corrin how she wants to handle garon finding that out and she's all, paraphrased, 'i don't give a damn what he thinks, if i wanted a father figure's blessing, i have yours and you've already made your thoughts known :3") (pfttttt-)

i am also kind of debating on 'each nohr sib finds out about them hooking up and it's a fic written from their POV' as another character-voice finidng exercise.

them just sleeping in the nude together because it's just weirdly tender sweet god dammit lmao. (i love how these swing from WILDLY kinky to the most basic vanilla romantic shit possible)

'corrin and gunter use valla as a sexcapade adventure with convienient time hole properties so she milks him for every year she has him (and it's slightly depressing despite being pure smut)'

start revelations

so much possession dub + noncon drawings >:) (i have a feeling bootlicking's going to come up a lot in these doodles.)

(also: really sad revelations hurt/comfort endgame spoilers)

(help)

[avellanas-nutty-empire]

Lost Love Letters

A Clavis x OC fic, part 1

It was supposed to be another standard simple little game for Clavis. Having heard of a small finishing academy full of peculiar young girls – one of which largely refused to cooperate with almost everything asked of her – Clavis set up enough spare time to pop over for a few days. Such an intriguing notion simply could not be ignored by the Prince of Mischief. At the academy he found several students that indeed would qualify as unruly and difficult by court standards, but there was only one who needed to have their bedroom door locked from the outside each night.

At the request of the headmistress, this girl refused to come and sing for his ‘important princely’ visit – supposedly locked away in her room for the rest of the day as punishment. The headmistress apologized profusely, but Clavis managed to sneak away long enough unlock this girls door quietly. The rest will be up to her now, he thought to himself, almost giddy pondering what she might do with this new freedom. Yet it was not until late into the night that she made her first move.

Earlier that day Myrtle had heard the click of her door unlocking, and tested the door handle quietly to see that she was not mistaken. But with no knowledge of who did such a thing or why, she stayed put in her room until later that night. Testing the door again, she left her room and headed for the academy gardens – and Cyran in turn left to report to Clavis.

While waiting for the girl to make her first move, Clavis was tempted to try setting up a couple traps around the academy due to restlessness. It was hard, but he managed to restrain himself long enough for Cyran to report her movement toward the garden that night. Practically leaping for joy, Clavis hurried over there himself.

And it was all supposed to be just another standard simple run of the mill little game for him, but the moment he heard her voice it was all over.

~ “Is this magic or am I crazy?” ~

The voice that rang out thru the garden was indeed as beautiful and elegant as the headmistress said it was, but Clavis was too distracted by the words to notice.

~ “I think I smell a woodland daisy,” ~

Memories once long buried away began to resurface, and the prince was too stunned to stop them.

~ “Flowering in the morning rain,” ~

Of letters written and received - several of which covered in doodles of daisy flowers along the boarders, and anywhere else there was room on the page for it.

~ “Wrapping between up a friendship chain.” ~

One of them recorded the very same lyrics being sung now in the gardens night air.

~ “Feel it now, let it grow. A bond between us that will never go.” ~

And a promise paired with it all.

~ “Should you need me pull this thread,” ~

A promise of love and friendship that would last forever - weather any storm.

~ “And I will follow wherever you tread.” ~

A promise that was broken.

“Daisy Dew Drop” Clavis breathed under his breath.

---

Daisy Dew Drop – the fun ‘undercover’ nickname Myrtle used to write to her old pen-pal with years ago. A name she thought shed never hear again; except… someone just said it out loud - Panic coursed thru her veins as Myrtle sprung to her feet, having noticed the man that spoke her old nickname.

“What?” She said, still too startled to notice exactly who he was. Finally close enough to see the girl for himself, Clavis noticed her hands clutching a couple of freshly plucked daisy flowers; blossom, stem, roots, and all. She held them so tightly he could notice her white knuckles thru the layers of dirt still on her hands. She must have been out here uprooting them herself, Clavis thought.

“My my, what a lovely little song that was.” He said with a tilt of his head, returning his classic smile-mask to his face, “Wherever did you learn it?” Now out of his stupor, Clavis had to eliminate the chance that this girl knew their song but somehow wasn’t his daisy dew drop. Maybe she taught it to other people and it spread?

“...I wrote it” Myrtle answered hesitantly, looking down at the flowers clutched in her hands as she pulled the stems taught and untaught once.

Dammit, Clavis thought. That means it is her.

“Oh, so you’ll sing to the flowers but not for a prince?” He asked teasingly, trying to reign in his disappointment. Remembering her was the last thing he wanted to do. At his question, Myrtle snapped out of her own shock and finally realized who he was. Swiftly, she set the daisies down and dipped into a small curtsy.

“Oh, I’m so sorry your highness.” She said, keeping her head low, “You were not the reason I refused to sing earlier.” Poor girl, Clavis thought. So flustered she didn’t even dust off any of the dirt still on her hands. He watched as she used her still dirty hands to clutch at her skirts, even after rising from the curtsy. Perfect. He thought with a smile. Shes flustered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll forgive you” He started, “If you sing that song again for me right now” He leaned in closer, as if it would give him a better vantage point for answers to all the questions running rampant thru his head like a wild stampede. Does she remember, or will she recognize its me? Why did she stop writing back? Did she ever think about me or consider trying to write back again? His head was practically spinning, but he had to keep his wits about him. This was far too important to mess something up here.

While his tone was playful, Myrtle noticed the mischief in his eyes and felt like she was being trapped or tested for something. She took a cautious step back from the prince in front of her - which Clavis clocked as preparation to flee - and used the extra space to wipe some of the dirt off her hands, now clutch them behind her back.

“I’m sorry, your highness. But that song is meant for only one other person.” Double dammit, Clavis thought. If she cares about me and our song so much, then why would she ever stop writing?

“Oh really?” He started, feeling frustration build up. “I could easily lock you up in a dungeon or have you killed without so much as a single reason, you know. Is this person really that important to you?” He pressed. Please say no please say no-

And there it is, Myrtle thought. That’s the trap, isn’t it? Unfortunately, Myrtle was quite used to threats and blackmail. Being notoriously the least cooperative person at a finishing school for already difficult girls, she had seen her fair share of every threat under the sun. Well, not execution from a Prince before… But after years of this experience, Myrtle already knew what her answer was gonna be.

“I will not sing the song again for you, you highness.” She said it so smooth, firm, and evenly. On top of that, Clavis clocked the way her eyes hollowed and lost their light after his ‘playful’ little threat. Dammit all, Clavis thought. This situation is just getting worse and worse. The madness of it all drove him to a chuckle, which then turned into full on laughter.

“Hahaha!” He took a deep breath in and re-steadied himself. “Well, punishing you would be neither fun nor gentleman-like. So you’ll simply have to join me for a meal tomorrow instead.” He said, forcing a chipper tone into his voice. Hand on her arm, he sidestepped her with a flutter of his cape. “And please, just call me Clavis.” Bending down he picked up one of her uprooted daisies, he also took one of her hands in his to place a kiss upon. “Until then, my Lady Daisy” Not only did he take one of her daisies, but he kissed her still dirt covered hand. Wait –

“Myrtle!” She blurted out before he could fully rise back up. Being called by that nickname by someone else felt absolutely gut wrenching to her. But then again, she hadent exactly given him her own name yet. “Please, call me Myrtle.” And she looked back up at him with such big, wide, shocked, and panicked doe eyes. At least one things going right here, Clavis thought. If she didn’t know it was him, he would have to keep it that way. That was the only advantage he had in this situation after all – and damn, he already felt outplayed.

“Very well then, lady Myrtle” With a final smile thrown her way, the Prince departed into the night with a daisy in his hand.

Anyone want a tag list?

[sandsucks]

hello, regarding the feeling burnt out post, I just wanted to say I’ve definitely been there as well. Sometimes I’ve felt like I’m consuming all sorts of media yet nothing is inspiring me to make anything. For me personally, I’ve just waited it out and have rested. Something eventually comes along that pulls me to create. I’ve also found that just randomly doodling can help. Plus you may make something u accidentally love. I’ve just kept a line notebook on my desk and simply doodle whatever whenever. It’s lined paper so it doesn’t have to be good, I could toss it if I wanted. You can use random pens and colors etc, draw goofy faces or flowers or whatever. Just keeps ur brain creating a little without thinking about it too hard or feeling like you have to create a finished piece to share. Anyways, I don’t think there are any solutions, just rest, it’s ok to not be constantly creating. I’ve found every major slump I’ve been in - I eventually get out. Wishing you luck! Hopefully the fog will clear soon and something will catch your attention

anon you are so so very lovely i am giving you a giant hug rn <3

thank you for your words!!! the line notebook idea is actually really smart, i think i might actually do that…i have a little blue sketchbook that’s completely empty atm so maybe that’ll become my line notebook :3 i also have a really bad habit of working through whatever burnout i’m going thru instead of giving myself a break. it’s easy to forget that the world isn’t gonna stop if you stumble a bit! and you’re right, there really aren’t any solutions, it’s kind of a thing you just can’t beat yourself up for. you just have to be kind to yourself and wait it out…

tysm again for your encouragement! i hope the world keeps you in its care and the stars shine brighter for you 🌸

[scientested]

music commentary #1: nightmare in dreamland

hello women! I'm doing this now. Cause i like talking about my music process that much

so for this song… I guess the first thing that comes to mind to say about it is that my motivation to complete it came from a negative place and i think that definitely influenced the choices i made while working on it and the choice To continue working on it (the song already had a spooky/negative sound when i doodled the very first part of it)

that negative place being that I woke up the night before yesterday feeling bad mentally so i started working on the song as a distraction

as it is a lot of the time with my music-making process I didn’t know what the song was about until halfway thru making it. I actually saved a wip of it on my phone and then saw the drawing (which i had already made previously) as the most recent thing in my downloads and it just immediately clicked that that would be the subject of the song

Oh i should actually talk about what the song Is about… well the song is about a hypothetical nightmare that thinker is having. the title “nightmare in dreamland” refers to the fact that he’s having a nightmare in the mindscape/dreamscape (where he lives). Also yea it’s a kirby reference too.

Now onto the actual content and sound of the song… it’s meant to sound very anxiety-inducing! It’s on the major scale and i chose that very purposefully. Typically the major scale is associated with happiness! And i associate the “energy” of anxiety more closely to the energy of happiness than i do sadness (the minor scale)… if that makes sense. Happiness can be something that’s high-energy like anxiety is vs sadness not really being that way in my opinion… Basically this is just why i went for the major scale vs the minor scale, even when it’s not meant to be a positive song

The percussion is the thing meant to be causing the most anxiety. The main beat that’s present throughout almost the entire song is meant to sound like and represent a heartbeat… and Thinker’s heart is obv the focus of the artwork and causing the most distress in his nightmare.  Second… tempo changes and pitch changes. Those are like the next “layer” of the anxiety… then it goes to the sound of the instruments themselves. Your personal order of what makes you the most anxious might be different obviously but that’s how it was intended/how i feel it

idk what else to say about it actually… I had a thought to put pink fluid coming out of thinker’s mouth in the artwork to give more meaning to the “pink flavor” description but i forgot… kinda wish i’d remembered

What I don’t like: the TIMINGGGG on the visuals is off. It’s bugging me so bad. It was perfect in the program but exporting the file and uploading it to youtube ruined it for some reason. It takes some of the impact away and it really bugs me. Also the transition at 1:30 feels a little out of place/abrupt… it feels like there maybe needed to be another section in between to lead up to it more gradually. Also i forgot about pink flavor

What I like: everything aside from that? I really like this song. I’ve had it stuck in my head multiple times already. I feel like I captured the vibe I was going for really well. also even with the off timing the moment at the end of the song where thinker looks at you hits different and makes me stim because of how cool it feels and looks so there’s that. The “what i don’t like” section is long but rest assured the length of that doesn’t equal me hating it because i really love this song

[meruz]

sorry if this has been asked before, but i wanted to ask about your lineart! the weight and line economy are just so nice, i get stars in my eyes looking at your lineart and doodles. could i ask what your approach to lineart is and what tips you might offer?

Wow I love these questions - Line is so interesting!!! It's a really big topic so I feel like any tips I give will be just barely scratching the surface. It's like deceptively simple...any given line drawing is essentially taking all the information we glean from seeing something irl ie light, shadow, dimension, texture, perspective, etc and boiling it down to the simplest possible visual information.

I think most commonly my line is informed by light source so like. thicker more continuous lines face away from the light and thinner more broken lines towards. and a lot of my spot blacks r simply cast shadows.

here's a more extreme example

BUT like everything to do with art there's no hard and fast rules. I use blacks when I think it'll be effective or interesting and I leave them out when I don't need em. umm couple things I find myself doing a lot... using spot blacks to make the separation between characters clearer. I like casting shadow in between characters so its easy to separate and read their silhouettes even when they're mashed together.

u can go even further to purposely create a silhouette like

to draw attention to a finger or tongue LOL. There's some comic book artists who are absolute masters at this type of stylization. Alex toth and his spiritual successor Chris samnee come to mind for me right away.

(toth)

(samnee)

I feel like I'm also often using line weight to separate planes receding in space

im naturally a really heavy handed and scribbly drawer(...?) draftsman. and im nearsighted so when i see things i percieve and break it down into big shapes over thin contours. so stuff like spot blacks and shadows came easy to me, the tricky part was making the rest of the lines lighter when they needed to be so the blacks could actually have impact LOLL. a lot of effective visual communication is about balancing contrasts. like I had to really train myself to press less hard on the pen. I think this is actually really evident if u go back in my archive to older sketches LOL

I actually feel like a lot of how I trained my hand to tackle line weights was thru stuff like hand lettering where you rly have to focus on being sensitive to that kind of thing.. contrasting strokes etc.

also exercises like figure drawing will have you flexing those muscles constantly

I'm starting to just regurgitate lessons from freshman year of art school so I'll stop here with the demos but yeah...I hope this was helpful!? I love line!!! I want to get even better at line work so I can feel confident posting work that's only line no color or value... I'll leave you with a bunch of artists who I think have particularly expressive and beautiful linework (not including toth and samnee who I already mentioned and who's work I love so much). You can probably learn much more from them than you can from me...!

Charles dana gibson LOL

Matias bergara

tonci zonjic

naoki urasawa

Daniel warren johnson

shiyoon kim

michel breton

also yoji shinkawa, tomer hanuka, leo romero, I feel like I'm gonna post this and think of so many more. there's so many good artists...!

[malandi]

adhd tips for online class 🥰

Have a passion project on the side you can go back to any time

Momentum is very important to us. When i feel myself slowing down while working on my responsibilities, i get my momentum back up by doing something im interested in.

Usually when im getting bored or distracted, i go on social media which kills my momentum even more.

But when i do something im interested in which is also productive, i can kill my boredom while maintaining my momentum. When i feel im in the zone, i return to my responsibilities.

more tips under the cut 💋

I highlighted in a way that makes reading comfortable for me. Tell me if it isnt effective for you so i may edit.

The key to working with adhd is momentum

I made the mistake of forcing myself to focus even when i lost momentum / got distracted or disinterested.

We cannot beat our adhd, we can only adapt to it.

If we get ourselves interested enough in something, our hyperfocus will do the rest. If we feel our focus waning, we redirect that focus but maintain our precious energy. See some ways i achieve this.

Fidget toys and take breaks while watching videos

Watching videos is one of my biggest problems with online school. I have an attention span of 3 minutes if i try really hard. While watching, fidgeting with something helps me focus.

Divide videos into how long your attention span lasts. Make sure you dont strain yourself. Take breaks equal to half of the time of those divisions between those divisions but dont leave your spot and dont open social media.

For example, i watch 3 minutes then take a one minute break. For that one minute break i set a timer, then i doodle, write down notes, stretch, sing, something like that. Then i go back to watching.

Eventually my attention span increases that i can make it past 3 minutes. Sometimes 5 minutes, sometimes 10. The goal here is to build up momentum. If you feel yourself focusing beyond the time you set for yourself, dont stop! Only stop when you notice yourself getting distracted.

Video calls and company while working

When someone can hold you accountable, your productivity might increase. This personally works for me. The other person's momentum affects my momentum. Social factors such as courtesy also forces me to focus on the task. Other people interacting with me also keeps me entertained without losing focus on what im doing.

Schedule study / productivity sessions with friends through calls. I find chat isnt as effective. Typing on a phone screen makes it too easy to multitask on your phone, as opposed to keeping your phone screen off while talking only thru call.

If someone at home is also working, working in the same space will create a serious environment with engagement and without as many distractions.

Making detailed instructions for things you want to do

I know most of us make schedules. But leaving very detailed instructions on what we have to do will stop us from overthinking -> overwhelming ourselves -> losing the will to do it

Example:

10:00 am - do my therapists homework

Find a private spot. Likely bed in the corner

Open email she sent me

Copy paste instructions in my writing app

Turn off wifi

Begin!

Reading tips

Read out loud!

Divide your readings into sections (my watching video tip applies here)

Walk around while reading

Highlight the as you read so you dont get lost if youre reading on a screen

Take notes but dont be strict with them, doodle if you feel like it

Sorry if my English isnt so good!

What works for me may not work for you. Dont be upset if it didnt work.

We are different people who work in different ways 🥰

Hello adhd community ❤️

[usermaha]

taylor swift album asks by @the-onlyyours-chapter

evermore- what is your favorite thing about winter?

i am a winter hoe, every year i apologize for the preson i become when it starts to get colder. you can put on sweaters that feel like a wearable hug, i think i look damn cool in winter apparel. and in december we have a hotpot dinner almost every week. also, im not christian but i love christmas as a non-religious occasion and am in the jingle mood all december long.

folklore- would you want to live in a cottage deep in a forest or a cabin by a lake?

both options sound lovely right now, but ill choose cabin by the lake, cause a body of water is just another kind of magic

lover- tell me about the person who makes you feel most at home?

MY MOMMM my god i love her so much. i dont have that many friends so i hang out with her all the time she is my best friend. we have a very special bond and im very grateful for that. im gonna stop or ill start crying.

reputation- how do you take of yourself when you have a bad day?

nothing that special i try to slow down to reset, take a break, might block scrolling thru tumblr lol, watch tv to get my mind off of things. recently working out to a bop kpop playlist really cheers me up. or ill listen to some songs i know would make me feel better. random doodling, devoting some time to create something i can be proud of works too.

1989- what does love feel like for you?

right now i’d say it feels like security. like you might be at war with the rest of the world, but with this person its all okay, they’re on your team :))

red- how did you get through your worst heartbreak?

the answer would be i didnt lol, i absolutely refused to. i just came to a point where life kept on happening and time ran on creating this distance between me and that point when i lost them. and it still hurts but less, cause its been done and ive come to accept that, even though reluctantly

speak now- what is your most magical memory?

unfortunately i cant of think of anything really cool but at my Daily Star Award Jafar Iqbal was there. he is a Bengali YA writer and i was obsessed with him since i was eleven and i always wanted to run into him at Book Fairs. so it was like this was fate’s gift to me for the award. it was a total starstruck moment, in the official photo where im taking the award from him im almost crying its so embarrassing 😖

fearless- tell me about a memory that makes you nostalgic?

ill go with august 2014, the video of taylor pressing the 18 button, on the 18 when the livestream went on i was in school sighing. i counted down till 27th october in the calendar in the back of my school diary, doodled ‘ts. 1989’ with my glitter pink pen on every blank page. butterflies in my stomach all the time daydreaming about the album. i made the ‘having fun is better than being cool’ quote my personality, sneaking a dance to shake it off whenever i was alone. oh no i was so obnoxious as a preteen its all taylor’s fault i had so much fun 😜

taylor swift- when did you fall in love with taylor, what point were you at life?

it all comes together; i was eleven and i was lonely. and her discography was something i really needed as a crutch, as a source of comfort to fall back to after a tough day at school. in my formative years she played the role of a role model, a wise older sister to look up to, and some part of who i am right now might be credited to her (even tho i understand how much pressure putting artists on a pedestal can be, and she doesnt owe that to her fanbase) mayhaps its a parasocial relationship i cant divorce myself from so i sit here and run a blog about her music in this hellsite 8 years later 🤟🏻🤟🏻

[scribbling-stiks]

AAR - XXXI - Bad Days

*New Mississippi Design doodle; sidenote, I hope I got the hair style right. I am caucasian and stuck in the house with my white family, so I tried my best with google trying to find something relevant. I'm not sure if I did it right, so please let me know if I didn't do it justice.*

Russia twirls America's hair in between his fingers. He tries to admire different colors. Russia himself has plain white hair, and he almost finds himself envying it, but shakes the feeling off. He pulls his fingers through America's hair and it stands on end, blue and red highlights popping out from the white.

But Russia finds he can't focus on the colors or the texture of any of it. His head spins and thoughts bounce around his skull like a pinball machine. He tries his best to relax, but his mind spins.

'What's going to happen now?' The thought echos in his mind.

'Am I in danger?'

'Are we in danger?'

'Are the kids going to be okay?'

'Is Ukraine okay?'

'Is that thing going to come back? What if it wasn't here for just the animals.'

He tries to shake off the thoughts but finds that he can't. His eyes fly around the room, even though logic tells him that he won't find anything in here. Motion catches his attention and he sees Texas walking over with a concerned look on his face.

Texas smiles when he sees Russia looking up at him and walks a little quicker. Texas swiftly makes it to Russia's side and America looks up with a smile.

"Hey, y'all," Texas says, "so, I just wanna let y'all know that outside don't look so pretty."

"What do you mean?" America asks, his tone curious and worried.

"Well, it kinda looks like when Arkansas put red food coloring and milk in the blender and didn't put the top on."

"Oh. That's not good," America says, "is the spider monster thing still outside?"

"I didn't see it, and I don't think there are any more animals left," Texas says, "at least, not anymore. But Tenny said it smelled like it was gonna rain soon, so we might just wanna wait for a while before we go outside again."

America hums.

"We wait until tomorrow," Russia says decisively, "then we will leave."

"Wait, we're leaving? I ain't complainin', don't get me wrong, but where are we going?" Texas says.

Russia notes that as soon as Texas' voice rose a little, the other kids tune in to the conversation. The kids don't move, but they do go quiet, occasionally glancing in their direction.

"We're going to my plantation house in Georgia," Dixie says loudly, and drew everyone's attention.

The room explodes with sound.

"Wait, we're going to go stay at Dixie's zombie house?"

"Bama, it's not for f***ing zombies."

"OOH! If we're leaving, can we get drive-thru on our way there?"

"Yeah! Anything's better than the unseasoned stuff coming outta these cans."

America sighs and rubs his face. Russia smiles.

"Fine, we'll get drive-thru on our way there. But I am NOT taking requests," America relents.

The states cheer and clap. Russia smiles and drops his chin into America's hair. It's prickly and tickles his face. Then he catches motion in his peripheral vision and he looks up, panicked. After a little searching, he finally sees what had startled him. He offers a smile to Connecticut as they walk over nicely.

"Hey, Dad?" Connecticut says, waving their hand to get his attention.

"Yeah, Kiddo?"

"Can I come with you?"

"What do you mean?" America asks, looking clueless. Russia shakes his head with amusement.

'They mean when we leave to invade the bases.'

"I know that you're leaving again with Russia. I wanted to see if I could come with you."

"Really? Why?"

"I've got magic, and I wanted to make sure you have some extra magic support," they answer, "I can't do wards like Massy, but I can summon weapons."

Connecticut waves their hands and summons knives, one in each hand. They wave the knives and their feet leave the ground as they whirl around, swiping through the air.

"Alright," America relents, "fine. But we aren't figuring out our search group until after we settle into Dixie's safe-house, okay?"

"Okay!" They say, and they walk off with a wide smile.

Russia's attention returns to the rest of the room and he finds himself tracking where everyone is and what they're doing. Trying to split his attention makes him feel overwhelmed, but when he tries to stop, panic grows in his chest. He feels America shift and Russia looks down at him.

America looks up with wide, concerned eyes.

"Russ, are you okay?" America asks.

"All is perfect. I am okay."

"No, you're not," America says, sitting up.

Russia's eyes fly back to America again. America is looking up at him with concern and affection in his eyes.

'His expressions still look the same,' Russia notes with muted joy.

"You're freaking out. I can feel your heartbeat," America whispers, his hand moving to Russia's chest.

America stares up at him with a tender look. "Please," he says, "breath with me."

Russia tries, he really does, but when he tries to slow his breathing, his lungs scream at him that he isn't getting enough air. He finds himself trying to match America but desperately gasping as if he had just resurfaced after nearly drowning.

'How is he breathing so slowly?' Russia thinks incredulously, 'it's impossible.'

America carefully takes Russia's hand and pulls them onto his chest, breathing deeply. Russia feels the movement.

'In...out...in...out'

Russia takes shuttering breaths, trying to breathe in when he feels America's chest expand.

"We're okay... we're okay," America whispers, cupping Russia's hands with his own.

Russia tries to look around America's head and search for danger in the building.

"Hey," America says, and Russia frantically looks back, "there is nothing behind me, okay? Look at me."

Russia tries his best to keep his eyes on America, but the movement around America's head keeps pulling his attention back to the chaos happening behind America.

"Rue, I'm going to hug you, okay?" America asks, gently letting go of Russia's hands.

Russia retracts his arms to his chest, closes his eyes, and nods furiously. America pulls him in and Russia leans his head into America's shoulder. America hugs him tightly and doesn't say anything.

'Everything is okay. Everything is okay.' It becomes almost a chant, cycling through his thoughts until it loses its meaning.

Russia feels America's heartbeat and breathing and focuses on it. Russia forces himself to focus on America. He struggles to tune out the sounds that drown out ration thoughts that surround him, so he focuses on America's breath brushing the back of his neck. Russia refuses to let his panic in his chest move his focus away.

Finally, Russia's breathing starts to slow down enough for him to think, and he wraps his arms around America, trying his best to be gentle.

'Everything is okay. Right now, we are safe. If we stay inside, we are safe,' Russia thinks, trying to convince his heart to slow its racing.

Russia focuses on keeping his breathing calm, and his heart rate calms. He lays there for as long as he can manage until he feels America begin to shift. Russia sits and looks away, his face flush. He can't make himself look up and meet America's eyes.

'What happened?!' Russia mentally demands, trying to find why he had started panicking like that.

"Rue?"

Russia scrunched his nose in frustration.

"Rue."

Russia looks up and sees America looking at him with concern. America smiles.

"You were spacing out on me there."

"Sorry," Russia mumbles.

"Hey, I get it," America says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, "sometimes things can be too much."

"But I..."

"Rue-Rue, everyone has their bad days. Everyone. And bad days can look different depending on who you are. Sometimes when things get hard, Flo goes non-verbal, and Tex'll lash out and isolate himself. Sometimes, for no reason in particular, some of the states will visit and be attached to me like koalas for the rest of the day," America recalls, a fond and exasperated smile spreads across his face before he shakes his head, "Anyways, my point is we just had a hard few... forevers, and you're just having a bad day today."

Russia tries his best to fight back the shame in the back of his throat. He feels his cheeks burn.

"And hey, if I'm allowed to have bad days, you are too," America says, playfully punching Russia's shoulder. Russia doesn't look up and America sighs.

"For real though, I'm here for you. Besides, we can't just go out and get alcohol to drown our sorrows, and I promised my kids I wouldn't start smoking again, so we're kinda stuck dealing with our emotions."

"I don't like it," Russia mutters. America laughs quietly.

"No one does, Rue-Rue. Trust me, I know. But if we don't deal with them, they don't ever get any better."

Russia tries to think of a counterpoint, only to find himself agreeing.

"And I'm sure once we settle down into that house, we'll have a bunch of clingy children to deal with," America says with a smile.

Russia laughs softly and finally looks back up at America, who looks at him with love in his eyes. Russia stares back, getting lost within his eyes, staring almost hypnotized by the strange dullness to America's right eye and the depth to the right.

"I think everyone needs a break just to calm down a little. I think once we're all together somewhere without things sneaking up on us and where we can sleep in actual beds, it'll get better," America says softly, a loving smile on his face.

Russia smiles back, and he feels lighter. The storm of emotions and anxiety he hadn't even noticed making a home in his chest dissipates, if only a little.

"It will be better," Russia agrees before musing, "it has been a while since I have been in a house."

America giggles widely and falls into him. Russia smiles at the display and his heart swells. America takes a few deep breaths to calm his giggling before looking back up at Russia with a stern look.

"If you get jumpy like that again, try to calm yourself down," America advises, "if you don't, you're just gonna be exhausted."

Russia nods. America smiles brightly, and Russia tiredly smiles back.

"See, now you're tired. But you gotta stay up with me."

"Why?" Russia whines.

"Because you have to, you jerk," America huffs, crossing his arms and pouting.

Russia chuckles. "You are cute."

"I am not!"

Russia shakes his head with a smile. Honestly, he couldn't wait to settle down somewhere with a comfortable mattress and insulated walls. The mats suck. But he'd make due right now. They just have to stay put one more night.

Soon, light stops peaking through the makeshift curtains, and the steady padder of rain echoes from the metal ceiling, filling the building with white noise. America begins to sway a little before leaning into Russia's side, avoiding the dripping water streaming down the wall.

Russia smiles, wraps an arm around him, drifting off, the darkness welcoming him into sleep's embrace.

~

Next

Previous

Table of Contents

[jising-jisang-jisung]

Daisy Notes

A/n: this is based off a little blurb I wrote a while ago!! I really enjoyed this one and plan on actually writing another part (which is something I rarely follow thru on)

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre: floof ofc

Requested: yes :) pls request more, I love writing but kinda suck at ideas

......

Sitting in the art classroom, you had your head propped up by your hand. Somehow you managed to finish your art project last week and were now left with nothing to do. You decided to pull out your sticky notes to doodle, or write some more messages for your chemistry crush.

Jisung, your smile brightens my whole day!

No. Too cheesy, you thought to yourself. 

Jisung, I think you’re really cool!

Ugh. Too lame.

Jisun

“Whatcha doing, buddy?” your friend pipes up on her way over to your assigned seat.

“Nothing, just doodling,” you convince her before she plops down in the chair next to you, aka not her assigned seat. You quickly put your sticky notes away and grabbed a scrap piece of paper to really doodle on.

The rest of the school day inched along like usual. By lunch you had finally determined the right thing to say in your note.

Jisung, you make my heart flutter.

It had only been a few weeks since you started leaving notes and you had never left anything of this caliber, so your heart was racing at the idea of it. Heck, you even played out the scenario of confessing that you wrote the notes, but that didn’t end well. Nevertheless, you decided to just continue anonymously leaving the daisy shaped sticky notes under his desk.

You have to walk fast- sprint- to chemistry in order to beat all of your classmates in the room, leave the note, exit the room, and re-enter after everyone. As you weaved through the hall, you held your books close to your chest. The sticky note placed conveniently on top of them, but not so easily as to be seen. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hit a hard force, causing you to drop your things.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” a blonde boy said as he helped you pick up his and your things.

“It’s okay, me neither,” you spoke quickly, reaching for your binder with the note. His arms had a lengthy advantage causing him to reach it first. His eyes lingered quickly on the note, but not long enough to have read it. You could only hope he wouldn’t mention it.

He stood to talk to you again, but you have no clue what words were exchanged as you stared at him with huge, wide eyes filled to the brim with fear. The next thing you know, the last bell had rung for the day.

Sitting in the corner of your room, you debate explaining your circumstances to your friend. You knew she wouldn’t tell anyone about it, but you still felt apprehensive telling anybody about your secret. You quickly facetimed her.

“Wait you’ve been leaving Park Jisung love notes for the past two weeks?! That doesn’t sound like y/n to me.” You could feel the frown claim your face as she spoke. “Isn’t he like best friends with the basketball captain?”

“Oh my gosh,” you finally caught yourself up to speed on the days earlier events.

“His name is like Zhong Chenle or something like that. Y/n you look like your about to throw up.”

“You know, I just might. I ran into Chenle today on my way to chemistry. I didn’t recognise him at first, but I know he saw the note. Oh my goodness, Jisung probably already knows-” you were beginning to ramble amongst your panic.

“Relax, y/n. Maybe he didn’t even see it.” You tried your best to believe what your friend had told you, but your wandering brain always got the better of you.

The next day, your rushed to chemistry as fast as you could. Everything seemed to be normal, so you sat at your seat. Maybe if you were the very first one there, and there was no note, Jisung would believe that someone else was writing them. Speaking of the devil, Jisung walks in next. Before he even notices your presence, he checks beneath his desk. A small pout forms on his face when he sees that there isn’t a note. He brings his head back up and turns slightly pink when he makes eye contact with you. “Oh hey, y/n,” he speaks hardly above a whisper.

“Hey Jisung, what’s up?” you try to seem nonchalant but on the inside you are losing your marbles.

“Nothing much.”

“You sound a little sad. Is everything alright?” you played dumb.

“Oh… yeah,” he trails off, “it’s just that for a little while now, there have been nice letters at my desk, but there isn’t one today.”

“Maybe the writer isn’t here today or something,” you suggest in hopes of convincing him.

“Yeah, maybe.”

After school you felt like a whole weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It appeared that Jisung didn’t know you were the author of the so called letters. Your friend was probably right, Chenle never saw the note to begin with.

With your new found lack of stress, you decided to write another note. You might as well since it is still anonymous after all.

Jisung, I think you’re really cool!

It seemed a little lame, but hey, if he was that upset over not getting a note, you couldn’t be too picky about what you say or you’ll never be able to write another one.

Soon you found yourself exiting the classroom as normal, heading to the bathroom to avoid contact with your crush. However, when you opened the door, there was a loud thump followed by a quiet “ouch.”

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” You shout as you close the door.

“It’s okay, I’m just not used to this door opening. I’m usually the first one to class. Well, second,” you heard Jisung’s voice explain. You could feel the fire burning in your cheeks. If no one else was in there, he would be able to figure out that you are the author.

“Here, let me help you up,” you say, offering your hand. He takes it with a shy smile, the familiar pink tint reclaiming his face again.

“Thanks,” he mutters before entering the room while you cower away to the bathroom to hide.

You get back to the classroom being fairly full, most of your classmates already have their notes out for the lesson. As you pulled out your chair to sit, you notice a piece of paper that is not yours. Upon further examination, you see that it is a lined sheet of paper with a daisy colored on it in crayon. It reads as follows.

Y/n, I think you’re pretty cool too

[johnandrasjaqobis]

you know what imma ask some more questions now that i'm reading thru more of them and i love your kids. let's go with 31, 41, 44, 45, 55, and 63

ask me about my dnd kids~~

31: they’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? Vic Might end up writing some like. Stream of consciousness type journaling. And then ripping that up into very very tiny pieces.

Yen If he hasn’t written a letter home in a while (so like, two or three days) he’ll do that. Otherwise just a lot of little doodles -- the kind you’d expect to find a teenager drawing in the margins.

rest under the cut!

41: what are they attracted to in other people? Vic Magic is,,, really attractive okay. He loves watching people do magic. Especially the like, absentminded kind, the utility stuff that just comes so naturally. Confidence, definitely (sometimes bordering on cockiness). Someone willing to have his back in a fight. (aka: the definitive way I figured out Vic was not at all attracted to women, bc if he were, Nol would be his type)

Yen He is still, admittedly, figuring that out himself (being a teenager and all), but. Compassion. Willingness to have Fun but also like,,, not the kind to potentially get you arrested pls. Someone who appreciates his stupid jokes and will for whatever reason listen to his rambling tangents.

44: what do they need to learn? Vic how to take care of himself dammit Like. It all boils down to that, but more specifically stuff like how okay it is to share your problems with friends, how you can’t keep helping people if you wear yourself down to nothing, how you are also worth helping. oh does he try.

Yen You don’t have to be okay all the time. Being cautious about people doesn’t automatically mean writing them off. It is good to be cautious about people because while the bad ones might not be the majority, they are out there and it does well to keep an eye out for them.

45: how do they hug people? Vic Like it could be the last. Because, as he has learned the hard way, that is a very real possibility. He uses all of that 18 strength and he means it. He likes hugs. Whether quick parting ones or after some deep conversations or the utterly relieved ones after a bad fight.

Yen Depends on the circumstances, but usually it’s a surprisingly strong and fairly quick squeeze. Sometimes looks all embarrassed but he won’t fight it. And sometimes, like in cases when a friend got knocked unconscious right next to some creepy thing that was trying to eat them, Yen will initiate the hug afterwards and hold on for a few extra seconds. Just to be sure.

55: whose hand do they reach out for? Vic He,,, doesn’t really, which is a problem. (Viconis? My boy? Openly asking for help? fake news) If he did it’d be dependent on the situation -- for real physical Worldly problems, Nol, because she somehow managed to negotiate with a Thelyss. For inner personal problems, probably Anthe. Because Anthe gets it.

Yen Honestly anyone who will take it. He’s kind of becoming aware that some members of the party give better advice (in his eyes) than others, but he’s still very willing to look for help from any one of them. Sometimes it’s Coral and her Very Detailed suggestions and opinions, sometimes it’s Ax and his quiet listening and questions and compassion, sometimes Quill with his “yeah it really does suck huh?” which is,,, honestly very helpful for just realizing that yeah, sometimes things suck and it’s okay to acknowledge that, sometimes it’s Kit who will sit in a tree with him while he tries to talk to this guy he swears is real -- (Gemma is tbd but,,, she’s bound to be interesting)

63: what fight has scared them the most? Vic The fight under the temple with the ghost. Seeing Nol go down in the pit was rough, that freaking worm was Bad and having to leave her behind was terrible, but even still That door. Not being able to even see her, knowing two of their healers were stuck on the other side with him and the third was possessed, hearing her call for him and not being able to do anything that was literally something out of one of his nightmares

Yen That most recent one was !! real bad !! Fresh off the conversation of how long they all live and realizing how not long Ax will live and how he probably will not come back straight into watching Ax get knocked unconscious and lie there bleeding out directly under that creature just. That was bad. That was a teenager getting whacked on the head with their own mortality. That was seeing his friend who he may or may not be getting a slight crush on nearly die across the campfire, and it shook him real bad.

[m-em-nichenko]

Prologue

Start Here

Left Here on June 1, 2014

           I was about fourteen the first time I read someone else’s diary. I remember that she left me alone in her room to sneak us snacks, since I wasn’t even supposed to be in her room courtesy of her parent’s “no boys upstairs” rule. I sat on her bed attempting to memorize biology facts that just weren’t sticking in my brain. My eyes drifted away from the paper in my hands to the light pink walls, covered with posters of boy bands that I never listened to. I looked at her dresser with opened drawers that had clothes spilling onto the floor.

For some reason, this room looked nothing like how she appeared at school. She always seemed perfect, like she had a makeup and fashion team help her get ready every morning. The neatest part of her room was her nightstand. It had lotion lined up against the back, a simple lamp, a half drank water bottle, and a tube of chapstick. The mahogany table shined without even the slightest trace of dust. The only thing on her nightstand that was out of place and made the nightstand lose the look that it belonged in a magazine was a simple green file folder that looked as if it had been taken to school everyday by an elementary aged child because the corners had begun to roll up, random stains splattered across its’ surface, and random numbers cluttered the bottom of it. Her first name was written in permanent marker with the large, loopy handwriting she often used to write me notes at school. If I hadn’t been bored, I would have assumed that if was full of schoolwork, but I was bored and anything besides biology sounded like a good idea at the time. Plus, I wanted to see if she’d kept her schoolwork where we’d scribbled notes to each other in the margins. Besides my own diary, that was the place where I was most open about my feelings.

When I lifted the edge of the folder, I didn’t find schoolwork though. I found tons of loose-leaf notebook paper all of which had been written on by her. I guess tons is an exaggeration, but there was enough. Enough for me to notice that there were dates, entry numbers, and that this wasn’t schoolwork at all; it was her diary. I used to think that I was the only weirdo in the world who kept a diary, but finding hers was only the beginning to my discoveries. My heart raced as I flipped back to the beginning. I started to read, anxious for my name to appear on the cluttered pages. Her words were sometimes accompanied by doodles in the margins or numbers that I could only guess were used in math class as her spare sheet of paper, but for the most part, these pages contained her raw emotions.

I read things I never would have known otherwise. It was like I’d unlocked a part of her. My name or the nickname she generally called me by appeared, but I didn’t get to read much more because the crinkling of a bag told me that she was coming back. I slammed the folder back, tilting it a few times, trying to determine exactly how it had been placed. I began to panic because I couldn’t recall exactly how it had been before I touched it. I swallowed and took a deep breath, sitting back on her bed.

A moment later, she opened the door, kicking it wider open with her feet because she had so much in her hands. I got up, causing her bed to squeak, and took a few things from her. She walked directly to the side of her nightstand where her diary was. I knew my face had to be burning red, but she wasn’t looking at me. She shoved her diary over to make room for two sodas she held. She placed them down with a thud, and I felt myself breathe again. She hadn’t noticed. She asked me a question concerning homework and that was that.

From that moment on, whenever I was alone and saw her diary, I would open it, noting the exact position it had been in to avoid the panic attack from that first time. I would read excited for new entries and my name to appear. I’d tell myself that I wouldn’t care if she read my diary, which somehow justified reading hers without making me feel like a bad person. There was just something about reading someone else’s diary that was intriguing to me. It’s not really hard to understand my fascination. Reading someone else’s diary is like being able to read someone else’s thoughts at a particular moment in their lives. If you’ve never read someone’s diary then you probably don’t understand what I’m talking about, but maybe I can help you with that.

So you’re probably wondering what all this has to do with this crate you found. Well, to begin with we must thank you for visiting. Where you are standing right now is a few steps away from our road: Whitworth Drive. When we left this crate here, the road was still deserted. This spot had been in the woods, but you could still see the black asphalt road from it. We left this crate under this exact tree because this is the tree where we’d thrown the rocks from. The tree we all often referred to as Sophie’s Tree, since with observation you could see where she’s written that in permanent marker on the trunk of this small oak tree. Maybe now the road leads to houses, but when we left this here that wasn’t the case. Instead, the road had been blocked off with a pathetic wooden road block marked with blue and red reflectors and a faded road closed sign. Trees and plants had even begun to reclaim their land the last time we were here.

By the time you’re reading this, I probably won’t know the conditions of the road anymore. Hell, I might not even be alive anymore. Come to think of it, all of us might be dead, but that is not the point. We didn’t leave this here so you would go looking for us to tell us that someone found our crate, whether you found it useful or not. True, it would be wicked awesome if someone found the contents of this crate helpful, but we do not need you letting us know that. If at least one of us could help you, then that would be enough for us.

Now I bet you’re wondering what all this crate contains. It’s obviously a bunch of paper, but on these sheets of paper are our stories. The start of our diaries up thru December 2010, right before the giant ice storm that trapped people from McDonough, Georgia in their houses for at least a week and had all of us stuck staying in between four houses because of a party that should have been supervised by someone’s parents. That was the first time that we found ourselves altogether. It was also the first time that we realized we all had started to write our stories down in a sort of diary form. It became a game to us. That game included making select people read their diaries aloud to everyone. We deemed it the “Notebook Game,” and even though mostly everyone hated sharing our own diary, we kept coming back because we wanted to hear everyone else’s story.

We learned things about our friends that we never would have known otherwise, which was helpful at times. But the thing that really helped me through was the words of the people that I didn’t know well. There was something therapeutic about hearing someone else’s struggles that were similar to your own even if all you really knew was their name. It helped us see that we weren’t outcasts. We weren’t the only ones bad things happened to, but we also weren’t the only ones good things happened to either. Because of these Notebook Games, we became connected in a way I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand or explain, and while we weren’t all the best of friends, we became so close that we’d jokingly call all 334 of us a “cult.”

People became known by their words. Cara and Amanda were the best friends that who sorted everyone into categories. Cara was also the person who thought she knew the perfect steps for girls to follow to get with the boy they liked, which we learned from the “Cute-Love Survival Guide” that she included in her diary. Trick was the weird boy who spent the bulk of his time in a local graveyard, but we learned that a death in his family caused him to be that way. He didn’t want the place where his loss rested to be untamed. Syrena was the quiet girl who hated talking with a passion, but loved words. Corey was the boy who made mixed CDs from music that we created. He’d put our songs on CDs to be played at parties in exchange for knowing who or what our songs were about. He made it clear that if he gave you a mixed CD, a song on it was about you. Harriet was the tiny girl who was fascinated by others’ stories. She spent most of her time watching others and recording what she found out about them. We called her a “stalker” a lot because of this. And me, well I am going to choose to remain anonymous. My diary is included in this and if you can figure out who I am, well more power to you, but I don’t really think it’s important. I can promise you that I’m not the most important person in this group.

The most important person out of the 334 of us would be the nice girl. Not the girl I started this about even though I love her. She is nice to me, but not to everyone. The nice girl was a friend to all. She had a way to make you feel loved with a simple conversation. She was the type that you automatically liked upon meeting. I’m sure some people called her fake, but I could never see that. She was the most genuine, good person I have ever met, and she was the first one out of us to die.

But before that tragic day, she ran an idea by us. We rarely hung out in a way where everyone’s attention was on one person when they weren’t reading their diary aloud. But on this day, she gathered all of our attention. She wasn’t even nervous even though she had 333 eyes on her. She had led us all to the end of Whitworth Drive, to the cul-de-sac late on a clear evening in April. She explained how much our notebook games had helped her, and how she believed that these games helped everyone here. We agreed in jumbled murmurs, which lead her to continue with her idea. She told us that our notebooks had the potential to help others. Everyone got quiet. The only sound was an owl hooting in the distance. I had a gut-sinking feeling that she was going to suggest that we post our diaries online for all to see. Instead, she explained the scavenger hunt idea she’d cooked up. We’d pick a few places that were important to us as a group, split our diaries up according to dates, and leave them there with instructions to the next location and an explanation as to what it was. When she finished speaking, she got mixed reviews. Some people weren’t keen on having their diaries left for anyone to read, so we tabled the conversation. I honestly thought that we’d never mention it again.

Until she died. We all attended her funeral, which made it feel like a celebrity had died, and I guess in some ways, one had. When we were outside, after her ceremony, her friend called the remaining 333 of us to the side.

“We have to do it.” He said. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t have to. We all understood and no one disagreed this time because it was her idea, and it was the last thing we could do for her.

Which leads you to this. It’s a lot. We know, but we want you to find it useful. We want to help. We know how stressful and lonely life can be at times, and we want to be there for you even if no one else can at the moment. So go ahead, read the first part of our diaries and take away what you want from them. We tried to put them in an order with variety, but you by no means have to read them in that order. We did include breaks because we know how easy it is to become consumed in someone else’s life. You can skip around or not read them all or pretend you never stumbled across this, the choice is completely yours. Just remember while you’re reading that it’s okay if you don’t remember everyone upon completion. That is not why we did this. Besides this literally being our diaries and us sharing our most personal thoughts, it isn’t really about us. It’s about you. It’s about what you take away from all of this. It’s supposed to mirror real life. You’re not going to remember everyone you meet, who has any sort of impact on you, and we don’t expect you to remember all of us either. It’s okay. We just ask one thing from you, please don’t remove any of the pages from this crate. You can read them at your leisure, but please keep them here. They belong to the road: Whitworth Drive. Happy reading and remember to take care of yourself.

[inkth]

boyfriend jimin

꒰ bts as your boyfriend: soft!series ꒱

summary: more loving/shyer couple and not the most emotional w each other but touchy (not in gross pda way but more gentle soft way) & whenever you guys look @ each other honey and love drips from your eyes he literally is so taken for you!!! jimin is that mochi that is head over heels, heart eyes 24/7 ready to die for you, fight for you, love you endlessly

phone contact name: jimin 🍡

u call him your prince

obsessed with his satoori (and for good reason) so u ask him to use it and he always does for your weird obsession

also lots of emojis and cute abbreviations when you guys text

ur both very bashful kinda like lambs but you guys can be outgoing and diff esp w the boys around and definitely a bit different in bed

u both looooove finding out new stuff about each other everyday – he keeps trivia about u in his mind or jots it down in his notes

“oh! you like that game! i didn’t know…“ and when u turn away: *opens notes and quickly types in new facts*

u use lots of 🐶 emojis for him and 🥊 in reference to that ONE. TIME. one!time he did the punching bag scene in danger…

u just wont let it go it was just too good hun we dont blame u

lots of hugging, u guys practically walk around hugging

you guys have ur moments when you can easily shake off the nice facade and tease each other w insults in satoori (lmao this one is good)

likes to send u lil doodles and drawings (this boy is so talented freakinfjdjdj)

he’s reminded of you in small little things like tea or flowers

you guys watch the notebook together like all the time

he’s very precious w u and likes to send gifts back home when away nd adores everything abt u from your hair to your eyes and smile

very into cuddling at night he always is touching you, arms slung over your upper body or waist or just hugging you into his body

tugging on your hand is also common occurrence u like to rest your head on his shoulders or chest

likes calling u his princess

you’re just his everything and he tells you everyday

when he first met you it was so obvious it was love @ first sight he couldn’t even control himself and kept repeating things he already said and kept trying to keep the conversation going and then u both were laughing at him about his own mistakes w his eyesmiles on full display u were so gone omg

obvious he’s in love bc everything he does is for you and wont ever shut up or stop thinking abt u & what ur doing the other boys are TIRED.

“should i clean my room? ehhh i dont feel like it. im so tired i could just fall asleep. oh gosh but imagine what y/n would think of me in this mess i should clean it in case she comes over for any reason i might as well shave a bit too and clean the toilet” *brings out 24 cleaning supplies and the big guns: guk* “guk scrub the toilet for me i have to do the laundry” *confused guk holding soap and a scrubber w gloves on stares at wild disheveled hyung whomstve has wild eyes and a sudden burst of revitalized energy at eleven pm when he was complaining the entire car ride home abt how exhausted he was*

you guys rarely have moments where u doubt the others’ love but when u do you guys like to have deep conversations about why the other shouldns’t feel that way followed by v romantic and slow and loving s*x and cuddling and maybe a few tears bc dammit u just love him so much and he loves you

u always try n support him in concerts and shows n stuff bc u know hes rlly self-conscious abt his voice n he says when ur there it helps nd remind him hes just as valued and important as every other member when hes going thru his rough time n yall depend on each other but in a healthy way

“DO YALL HEAR THAT IT’S THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL YESSSSSSSS MY PRINCE! HE RULES THIS WORLD!” *staff backstage staring at you like ur crazy*

take turns grocery shopping n u guys would both go together but found out as the other stays home to clean its v systematic in a good way

he loves facetiming u so much when hes away omg

“let me see ur outfit i miss seeing you in the mornings”

“i sent u an ootd pic????”

“LET ME SEEEEEEEEE YOU AGAIN”

he always texts u before u leaves the studio or dance practice room bc he knows u worry over his safety

on rainy days u have tradition making tea and then in bed cuddling watching a movie

he likes to boop ur nose a lot and then smiling bc ur so cute n he strokes yr hair!!!!

he sees your face in the stars above and tells you how much he misses you when it feels like he can’t take it anymore

:: i posted this on my twitter for bts festa week but i tweaked & added a few things to this…… i just really enjoy doing these types of posts and keep in mind these series will NOT be the only type of posts ill be uploading like this :) i plan on having my fics and these “others” type posts :D