#i've had this in my drafts for almost a month and I finally sat down and rewrote it all

[arcanemarion]

There's this running sentiment that I've seen a few times recently that, in absence of being recruited and subsequently abused by Trent, Astrid would have been someone nice (read: "good") and in touch with her emotions, or something, instead of pursuing power and authority. It's an idea that seems to purport that Trent fully brainwashed her into being a completely different person acting entirely against her own volition, because surely if she was somehow fully cognizant of her "real" wants / feelings / had friends, she would simply walk away.

Except that she wouldn't, because she didn't.

We are told repeatedly by Caleb and reinforced by Astrid herself, that she is and always has been ambitious. If freedom from Trent was all that she was truly after, then she could have had an easy out once the Nein removed him from power. But instead she stays to take her place in the Assembly, because that was her goal all along.

In fact, Astrid's ambition would have made her more susceptible to Trent's manipulation, especially when she was younger. The way that Astrid and Eadwulf murder their parents is very personal and intimate - strangulation and poison at the dinner table. Neither of them flinch, and yet Bren's method is to not even show himself, but barricade his family in their home from the outside and then set it aflame. It was a comparatively anonymous act, but he was the one to break.

Trent's miscalculation here of course revolves around Bren's character. We can probably attribute him overlooking this because of Bren's clear aptitude, and then perhaps following the assumption (which has tbh proven time and time again throughout history) that a wizard capable of achieving great power will always go after it no matter the cost. Although Liam says that if Caleb had met Astrid and Eadwulf again much earlier in the campaign prior to forming strong bonds with the Nein, he likely would have gone back with them (juicy juicy AU fic of where this happens exist out there I'm certain, but also further illustrates that Caleb himself wasn't fully immune, obviously), part of the reason why Caleb's arc is so beautiful is precisely because of his journey to stand in contrast to this cliche.

It is further interesting, then, that when Caleb does come back into proximity of both Astrid and Trent, with no small amount of ability, that Trent still immediately fixates on him, even though he is better able to resist Trent's manipulations than ever before. Astrid has been at Trent's side for well over a decade at this point and is obviously a very capable wizard herself, seemingly loyal - even if Trent probably had doubts about the true depth of her loyalty to him, then at the very least loyal to the Empire - intelligent, and politically savvy; all things you would think would still make her a prime candidate for successor.

It begs the question of what Trent found wanting in her, that he would decide to so blatantly favor Caleb, someone he arguably cannot actually control, over someone he has personally cultivated for years.

It's obvious that during the dinner, Trent is working many scummy manipulations on Caleb. But by proclaiming "nothing would make me happier" to have Caleb kill him and take over, he is simultaneously twisting a knife at Astrid, firmly shunting her into second place, if such a place exists at all, as far as he's concerned. We can probably assume that Astrid's ambition to actually do precisely that aren't entirely a secret from Trent (frankly he'd be very foolish to not expect it of people he manipulated into murdering their parents as children), and he would also be very aware that he still outclasses her in terms of raw power. Astrid, or even Astrid and Eadwulf together, aren't strong enough to take him out on their own, so it behooves Trent to prevent any possible alliances from forming by trying to drive a wedge between her and Caleb. The goal of this might not even necessarily be to prevent his own demise, but set up a familiar "test": if one takes out the other, then he'll know who is really worthy of being his successor.

Of course this isn't what happens, because Caleb's reappearance in her life has already begun a shift in Astrid. When we first see her "on screen" in episode 89, it's pretty clear she's got a front up and is touting the party line / is in the sauce, so to speak, and as "genuinely mournful" as she is, she still seems to firmly believe that the suffering they endured was for a reason. Even so, she heavily hints to Caleb that she isn't so unfailingly loyal to Trent that she wouldn't try to usurp him.

There's definitely something a little 'off' about the whole interaction - on a meta level, this might be largely because she's a brand new character to Matt that he's still getting a feel for, and on a narrative one, someone she once loved very much and has been either catatonic or missing for a decade suddenly showed up at her house - but something has definitely shifted by the time we see her again, and in other scenes in subsequent episodes. Ultimately, she's very clearly conflicted about the position she's in: Caleb and the Nein can be the convenient means to an end that she wants, but it could also mean sacrificing him - because if they can't defeat Trent, it's not worth risking her own life to stand with them. It's clear that she still carries many deep feelings for Caleb, and as much as she doesn't want him to die (perhaps especially not by Trent's hand), she's not quite willing to die herself.

This is why she helps Caleb get the medallions, why she (allegedly) cries in the alley, why she and Eadwulf warn Caleb ("we're not doing it for you, we're doing it for him") about Trent coming after them, why she lets him complete the scroll in Yussa's tower. She needs Caleb to help take Trent out, but it has to happen at the most optimal moment, otherwise there's no point - this is why she doesn't help the Nein in the final fight until it's clear they have a chance of winning it.

There's a lot we don't know about where Astrid's true hatred and resentment of Trent stems. Certainly the myriad abuses all three of them suffered, and the unknown extent of that which followed when it was just her and Eadwulf left, but apparently it's been "years" that she's dreamed of ultimately killing him. The amount of rage and anger in her when she is prevented from actually doing it is frankly one of the most profound moments in all of C2. She has the person who has caused her and the two people she probably cares for most in the world immeasurable pain and trauma finally subdued and at their collective mercy, and yet is told "no, you can't kill him, we want him to go to trial"...by one of those people.

It's a betrayal, in a way, and perhaps more than any other moment, clearly demarcates the differences and fractures that exist between her and Caleb as they currently are. Astrid further underscores it by specifically putting Eadwulf away from Caleb (and Eadwulf looking back is one of the tiniest but such important little glimpse we get into his feelings) and simply leaving.

It's a terribly bitter moment; she's more or less gotten almost everything she's wanted for a very long time, but gets to derive no real satisfaction from it. She walks away, furious, resentful. But after a time, they do come back - and my personal theory is that Eadwulf convinced her to do so. Obviously they see enough value in Caleb and Beau's plan to spend the exhausting hours recounting their experiences, as perhaps if this is the only way to allegedly ensure that Trent gets locked up for good and getting any kind of justice (revenge), they don't necessarily have much to lose if they're careful not to jeopardize their political positions with the rest of the Assembly.

And of course, naturally, still, Ludinus offers the job to Caleb first.

(Obviously there are narrative and meta reasons for this, but it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine that it wouldn't have further twisted the bitter knife in Astrid just a little bit yet).

All of this is to illustrate that yes, Astrid and Eadwulf did suffer abuse under Trent, but it's a mistake to use that as the sole explanation for their actions and motivations as fictional characters, or to use it as a way to give them an avenue to being "good" people underneath it all - ie, removing the teeth from their roles as antagonists.

Which is to say: people often have an especially hard time when characters exist in a shifting grey area of morality - especially women. Astrid (and Eadwulf) has always occupied this space within the narrative because of her dual proximity to Caleb ("good") and Trent ("bad"), but it would be a mistake to believe that her character arc is simply her choosing between the two of them and what they allegedly represent. At no point does Astrid ever explicitly agree with Caleb about stopping the Volstrucker program as it exists, and we've never gotten any clue in the subsequent story years later whether or not she actually did anything directly to dismantle it. We can infer that in absence of Trent it might have ceased perhaps at least in part, yet for as important as that is for Caleb, and even as much anger and rage Astrid obviously has towards Trent, she has been pretty much reticent on the subject in canon material so far, to the point that it seems unlikely it's a primary motivation for her to take over Trent's seat. Perhaps after several years of close proximity to Caleb (because Liam has not mentioned her multiple times post C2 proper for them to not be talking on the regular), she did do something about it, but exactly what and how much is all speculation.

(Sidebar: further to the last parenthesis above, Caleb was absolutely the one to hide Astrid in Chastity's Nook during the events of C3, and Essek saying "Bren sends his regards" was in fact a signal to her that he is an ally, and if he said it like a threat, it's because he's a catty bitch (affectionate), which further plays out in their subsequent interaction).

As I (and many other people) have said in the past, we shouldn't be afraid to let villainous / antagonist characters be bad ("problematic"), and we shouldn't be afraid to enjoy them because of the role they occupy in a story. Astrid is compelling precisely because you (the audience, the Nein) didn't know which way she was going to go in those pivotal moments, whether she is friend or foe; she's compelling because she doesn't immediately fall in line with Caleb's plan to imprison rather than kill Trent. All of those layers of tension and conflict are what make the story juicy and interesting. Trent is a motherfucker and makes my skin crawl, but he is a fantastic villain. Astrid doesn't "need" to have a full redemption arc for any reason, and especially not to justify her continued proximity to Caleb.

I always feel it's very remiss of discussions that involve Astrid and Caleb to not include Eadwulf - I've mentioned him several times by proximity, but not so much about his position in all of this specifically, which is an unfortunate symptom of the fact that we simply don't get a lot of exposure to him by comparison, and he's never the focus of the scenes that he's in. It is my hope that the animated series will be able to correct for some of this and build him out a little more, much in the way we got to see him in Caleb's origin comic. The two moments there that always stick out in my memory are him and Bren being the first ones to initiate physical intimacy, and him striking Bren and leaving him to stop him from attacking Astrid - it's such an incredible parallel with the moment that Astrid pulls him away and he looks back at Caleb. There are so many other little hints, like his raven feather necklace, the way he speaks in front of Trent at the dinner (being a dutiful soldier), his encouragement of Fjord, that seed all of these little nuances that are lovely on their own, but still leave me hungry for a fuller picture. In my mind, he's a necessary anchor between Astrid and Bren, and eventually singularly for Astrid, who probably needs him more than he does her, in some ways. I like to think they love each other more than anyone else in the world, but to speculate further is getting deep into headcanon territory (not inherently bad, just not the point of this post). Of the people who would "just leave", Eadwulf by his own admission said he'd be fine with that - so perhaps he did stay solely for Astrid, and maybe once Trent was ousted, he did leave, for a time. But it's likely he would have found his way back.

Anyway: love a problematic fictional woman.

[mariesmagix]

"𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧."

[golden brown; the stranglers]

˖° 𐙚  reader x knight!abby-anderson ; wlw

 ₊˚⊹ content; no y/n, angst/fluff (varies on spectrum), future smut

[sneakpeak/pre to a larger fic, if this launches well lol]

backstory; you're a princess, by blood, and you're to be declared to someone else in a short manner of time, which was entirely unprecedented-- to the both of you. abby is your devoted crownsguard, and personal knight, whom you've known since the age of 12. she doesn't want to cannot see you with anyone else.

NOTES; ok so this is like my first fic in a WHILEEE.... sooo... beware lol, but this has been gathering dust in my drafts so still dk if this will be a continued series but please do let me know in the comments or w/ anon if you think it should!! <3

It was a dark afternoon. Earlier Abby had commented that the weather 'was vociferous', indoors rather quiet, despite the rain pattering violently against the stained glass panes of the windows. The castle was cold-- tile floors unforgiving with the temperature as you slipped with grace from your vanity, hair neatly combed and styled up into a half-up, half-down sort of do. You readied yourself for a crown meeting this afternoon, which was in.. roughly an hour, you assumed, glancing at the large, ornate contraption of a clock across the room, gazing over the roman numerals sharply.

After powdering your face, and slipping on your heels to look presentable enough to address the councilmen and the crown advisor. You stood, gathering your skirt in two graceful hands, readying to open the door-- until, at the same time, knuckles rapped at the door. You turned the ornate, golden handle; met with your trusted guard, and Abigail's tall, towering gaze.

Despite her appearance, she had a rather warm expression, almost softening at the sight of you. "My princess," she began, looking at you with her sultry, deep, blue irises. "I've been sent to retrieve you, for the King and Queen's inquiry," Abigail smiled softly, you nodding to her words, "You're earlier than expected," You chuckled, and she returned your demeanor, looking at you almost with.. longing. "Better than late, no?" She humored, before reaching with an elbow to take your arm, like usual. You looped yours with hers in instinct, allowing her to escort you to the tearoom, where your parents sat soundly, awaiting your presence that they'd beckoned for.

Abigail pushed upon the handle of the ornate, floral decorated door, holding it open courteously for you, who walked in elegantly, curtsying in your parents' presence.

"We've something rather.. important, to discuss, before the council meeting this evening, darling." Your mother began, looking despondently at you. Your father; the king, chimed in, "You also, won't be attending the council meeting." He announced, and your brows furrowed together, lifting your head to make defiant eye contact with him. "..Why not? I've been present, every year, since I was of twelve." You frowned, clearly displeased, but looking upon your mother; hoping she'd speak out and take your side, all you could discern was her downcast expression. Clearly, this was something serious. Your father cleared his throat, settling in his throne and looking to you with a consequential guise.

"You'll be wed, coming this December."

He declared, your eyebrows going up in shock-- you'd only turned of eighteen three months ago; certainly, this was early. Now, you understood why Abby's demeanor was more solemn, than usual. Why she hadn't grinned stupidly at you like she normally did. You felt your world collide and crash, the crescendo of the atmosphere quickly pivoting to a nose-plant downwards. You barely remembered to breathe, inhaling deeply after finally reminding yourself, and all you could say was;

"...to whom?" You tried to reply, the tremble in your voice evident anyways. You glanced back at your trusted companion; who was standing uniform beside the door, looking at you shamefully-- with sorrow in her not as sultry, blue eyes. Your lower lip quivered, and you tried to maintain not a horribly sorrowful guise, although still looking to your parents like a kicked puppy.

DIVIDER CREDITS: @/olenvasynyt @bernardsbendystraws @/cafekitsune @/saradika

images sourced from pinterest

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Spy Family | ateez x reader

Pairing: spy!ateez x spy!reader

Genre: spy, action, a little romance

Word Count: 1223 words

Summary: You’ve been seeing Ateez for a year, and you��re wondering, can you actually break their hearts?

a/n: I still don't know how I feel about what I've written here but I've had this in my drafts for a YEAR and it's time that I finally complete it! this is a short series of 4 parts so I won't have a taglist for it, all the parts are drafted, it just needs editing so I'll publish the next parts as soon as I finish editing it! :) Enjoyyyy and let me know your thoughts! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. <3

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Part 1

As you watched Wooyoung prepare dinner for everyone, the feeling of remorse sat heavily on your shoulders as the culpable feeling of regret gnawed at you from within. Every time you thought about what you were doing, your stomach twisted and churned with guilt.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was supposed to be a simple payback but now that you thought about it, nothing about it was simple from the start. It had almost been a year since you began your relationship with Wooyoung that had spilled over with the rest of the boys. Initially, you heard about them from your best friend whose younger brother was dating Wooyoung’s sister. Then you saw them around the Institute occasionally, since like you, they were spies in training. They joined a sister organization adjacent to yours and so, you would work alongside each other from time to time. Although, you were never on the same team for missions.

But perhaps it would have remained a professional relationship - if only Wooyoung’s sister didn’t break Beomgyu’s heart the way she did.

If only she was loyal and honest, maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation today. First, she lied and cheated, then she proceeded to humiliate him at the inauguration ceremony for new spy recruits. You remembered that evening vividly. Beomgyu had always been shy so it took a lot of courage to confess how much she meant to him that night. As everything unraveled, you were seething with anger alongside your best friend Ara. Before you knew it though, Ara was already on the other side of the hall, grabbing the girl by her ponytail and slamming her into a table before dunking her into the fountain. It took six people to get her off the girl.

That should’ve been enough revenge.

But for Ara, it wasn’t. She seethed in animosity and fury for months and then in sadness as she watched her sibling drown in heartbreak, humiliation and pain. Then she approached you. She snooped around for more information about the girl and discovered she had a younger brother - Wooyoung.

“An eye for an eye.” she claimed.

You could have said no. There was no need for you to get involved. But you considered Beomgyu to be like a younger brother so you agreed, albeit apprehensively. So now here you were - semi-cohabiting with all eight boys and they were nothing like what people had described about them. They kept to themselves and hardly interacted outside of their established circle so most claimed they were stand-offish and haughty. But in reality, they were kind, sweet, thoughtful and friendly.

Hongjoong, Yeosang and Jongho weren’t big fans of public displays of affection but rather preferred showing their affection in the safe spaces that were their rooms. On the other hand, Seonghwa and Yunho, who would seem intimidating because of their height, were sweethearts who didn’t mind small gestures such as either holding hands or being back-hugged in public unless it resulted in both of you tumbling down a hill…which happened only once. Meanwhile, San and Mingi were in-between because of their shy nature, while Wooyoung didn’t mind letting the whole world know how much you meant to him.

You couldn’t break their hearts.

So, you made another plan. In the next few days you had an upcoming mission that was out of the country and that would last a month, with perhaps a few weeks extra spilling over into the next. In that time, you would be unable to be in contact regularly so slowly, you would begin to distance yourselves from them. You weren’t going to tell them when you’ll be back and hopefully soon enough, the message would be clear.

As you replayed your foolproof plan in your head, Wooyoung draped himself over you while the others chattered amongst themselves as the evening wore on and dinner concluded. He ran his fingers through your hair and prodded your head with his nose to seek your attention as he swayed the two of you back and forth.

“You okay?” he whispered.

As you snapped out of your thoughts, you looked up to see the sweet, tender look he gave you - one that was filled with adoration and so much love. You nodded sweetly with a soft smile that you hoped was convincing before melting yourself deeper into his embrace, tracing circles on his forearm. He welcomed the gesture warmly and pressed a chaste kiss to your temple.

“I love you so much.” he murmured in your ear.

Everything inside you felt like it was frozen in place as you processed his words. Wooyoung said he loves you and though you tried to convince yourself that what you were planning was the best decision, you couldn’t ignore that bubbling feeling of warmth and tenderness that rushed in your veins when he said it - you felt the same.

On the way home, you were lost in thought. Your heart ached at the idea of never talking to the boys again. Each of them in their own way had left an impact that made your heart flutter and cheeks turn red. And after Wooyoung’s confession earlier and his sneaky kiss that may have turned into a small but passionate makeout session in a corner of the hallway right next to the elevator, you were distressed. It was unexpected like his confession. You were almost to the elevators when you felt a hand grab you and suddenly, you were being pulled into the cozy corner. Startled but aware of the familiar presence, especially by the bracelet on his arm that was identical to yours, you turned your gaze to find Wooyoung once again, staring at you with so much love and adoration before he pressed his lips to yours.

Arriving at your organization’s headquarters, you bumped into another figure who stood up to greet you but you didn’t see. It was Beomgyu. You both looked at each other with a sad smile, one that didn’t need any questioning because you both knew what it meant. The two of you strolled into the lobby in silence before Beomgyu turned to you and finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I’ve put you through this.” he laments.

“No,” you answer tiredly rubbing your face, “It’s on me. I agreed to it with Ara.”

“Still, I should’ve stopped you both.” he mumbles, “But…I also wanted revenge. At the time it felt so right.”

You couldn’t fault him, at one point, it seemed “right” to you too. 

“It’s okay, I’ll figure it out.” 

Before he can continue, you both hear a tick that raises alarm bells in your minds. The two of you turn around warily, unsure of what it is and where it's coming from, but before either of you can react, the wall explodes. Beomgyu grabs and pushes you under him to the ground behind a wall to protect the two of you.

After a few minutes of you trying to catch your bearings and soothe the unrelentless ringing in your ears, you look towards the debris and notice a small paper neatly rolled and tied with a gold string right in the middle of the floor, untouched by the rubble. Picking it up to read it, your blood runs cold with the three big words sprawled out in red.

“You’ve been warned.”

[andromeda-nova-writing]

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

Fem!Reader Words: 1742

AN: Is it a sequel to the last fic or a request from @isekyaaa? It's both! I hope I've done the prompt justice for you

Y/N’s classroom was silent as she shuffled papers around trying to clean up what was now a shared classroom. To say it was her classroom wasn’t a good way to describe the room. It was a room that she had been thrown into over a month ago on the other side of the campus. The classroom was cramped, lights would flicker in and out, and the heat would never kick in. It felt as if the university just wanted her to quit. Had her rightful complaints of poor treatment got her into this? Or maybe it was the fact she wasn't afraid to critique their golden boy? 

At least she had already completed her final class of the day and with no meetings, all that was left to do was to go home. Hopefully, the next teacher here will be satisfied with her cleaning. With the knock on the door, she assumed that was who had shown up.

“I’ll be just a minute. I’m almost done in here.” Y/N placed the last of the papers within her bag, eyes not even making contact with the door frame. “I just have to clean the whiteboard.”

There was a man’s sigh followed by footsteps and a binder landing in front of her on the desk where she sat. It was a plain purple that felt way too familiar. Looking up at its owner she shouldn’t have been surprised. “What do you want Ratio?” Her question came off in a mix of annoyance, tiredness, and ready for a fight.

“Open it.”

“Your hands work.”

“Will you just open the binder?” A question that sounded more like a demand

She rolled her eyes before doing what she had been asked. There was no sense in fighting every little thing. Looking at the paper on top, it was just a simple list of grades over time. There were two sections highlighted about a month apart from each other with a noticeable improvement. It was small but clear to see. “It's a start at least. Is this all you have to show me?”

He flipped to the next page. It was the start of a thesis for what he must have been currently working on. The page was covered in red ink of his handwriting over the text he had printed out. It had been a bit odd to see knowing how much he had preferred to work in digital. He had on plenty of occasions spoken a snide comment to her about how he did not need to leave to grab a notebook and that he had access to everything he needed at all times. There were too many times when he had given her a side eye even on just running out of ink.

“You do know I’m in an entirely different field of study than anything you’ve done? I’m not sure if you really want me to read this over. It may be best to find someone else.” She closed the binder, rejecting his request before getting up to clean the whiteboard behind her. “I teach art history. I’m doing a fashion history course at the moment!” She emphasized as began to wipe down the whiteboard, clearing it of a few things that had been required for her students to take note of. 

“You are able to not hold back on giving critiques which is a skill in itself.” One that others at the university he found were lacking. “I do not require someone who has a similar knowledge as me. It’s harder to understand where my writing doesn’t make sense when someone has an easier time following along with the subject matter.”

Y/N dropped the cloth in her hands, turning around. “That is not the compliment you think it is!”

“And it wasn't an insult either!” He pinched his nose in an attempt to remain calm. “It's a rough draft. There are still things I would like to add but I want you to read through it first.”

She leaned against the clean side of the whiteboard that was behind her. “It would be better to find someone else to read through it. What part of that do you not understand?”

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” He had said it louder than he had meant to, emotions taking over for a brief moment. Perhaps the same emotions that had derailed his train of logic led him to even ask her for this favor.

“The part where you are the one who is saying it. I’m bound to say something that will start a debate and derail your work. Or better yet I help you only end up teaching in a closet next.”

“You act as if I am the one who put you in here.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. You even yelled at me over this a month ago.”

“I wasn't yelling.” 

He had crossed his arms giving her a side eye.

“You are misremembering. I was annoyed yes but yelling no.” 

“If you can remember that you can remember your own actions then. You waltzed in and blamed me for the actions of people higher up than me.”

“I,” she sighed remembering back on it more, “I did do that didn’t I? To be fair, your lack of teaching skills left me in a room where I feel like I'm going to turn into an ice cube. How are you even standing in here without shivering?” Y/N asked as she looked over the more revealing aspects of his attire. 

He shook his head at the lack of an apology. “They do keep most of the servers within this building. That's still no excuse for why this room is so cold.”

“Every time I ask about it I'm told either the heat is out or that it's on low. I was told it was going to be fixed but I’m pretty sure that was a lie now. Most of my students started bringing blankets to class with them. They are just recording the lecture instead of taking notes and I can tell they aren’t going back to listen to it cause the grades are just dropping now.” Y/N complained with defeat just washing over her. 

“Have you made it known that these changes are affecting your class?” He asked the obvious as if she couldn’t think of it herself.

“They will make changes off of things you say because the complaints come from you. Your name carries weight. No matter how correct I am, because I even dare to point out a flaw of yours I am to be ignored and tossed aside so as to not ruin what your name brings to this place.” Her eyes drifted to the floor. “I’m clearly being punished. If I speak about what is going on anymore who knows what I may lose next? The arts remain to be disrespected even when used to teach about the history of different worlds. I must face the fact that I am not wanted.” It hurt a bit to admit it allowed. This had been a dream job of hers and it felt horrible to see it ripped from her over a lack of general respect from those above her.

“I want you.” He repeated once more with softness and desperation leaking into his voice. “As annoying as your critiques can be, listening to them has forced me to take a look at myself and bring improvement. Trying to improve myself without the input of another only works for so long. I’ve seemed to have forgotten that.” Perhaps he had grown too similar to some of those who worked here in that aspect. The distance between them was breaking as he moved closer into her space. 

Her laughter filled the small space between the two of them. One that was genuine, not filled with their usual sarcasm and jabs back and forth. “Are you hiding a literature degree there? I've never heard anyone beg for a critique like this before.” She teased.

“It’s not begging. I am just asking what I know you are capable of. You would have given your thoughts without me asking, wouldn’t it be better to invite those thoughts instead?” 

“I suppose it would but I'm not quite sure about it still. My critiques of you haven't ended well for me. What's to say this time would be different?”

“I believe I have met your requirements to discuss what is considered life-changing once more.” The grades rising just by points didn’t meet what she had asked of him and yet it was enough to take his advances seriously. 

“I wasn’t sure you would follow through on what I asked of you. Have you found a definition or have you found a different example?” She looked up at him, it took everything to not lose herself in how he was staring at her. His eyes tethered to her lips watching every movement. Part of her wished he would go through with the example she had put a stop to last time.

“It would seem that day in the library was example enough for me. The memory won’t quiet in my mind.”

“Perchance have you put that brain of yours to work figuring out what would quiet it?”

“It is less a matter for my brain to solve.”

“But you have found a solution?” Her eyes kept darting between his normally cold eyes and his lips which appeared so inviting. Maybe if she had paid more attention last time she would have noticed that before.

“I have.”

“I must ask, do you want me for a critique or do you want me?”

“If it’s both?”

“Then I would implore you to show me what you considered life-changing that day. It may persuade me to say yes.”

It was only a matter of mere seconds before Y/N found herself kissing the man she had been blaming for some of her issues with this university. However, she mostly laid the blame for those issues starting with his teaching style, but it was hard to focus on his flaws when he was being so loving at the moment.

Was it loving or more an act of desperation? Something that she would decide later as for now it was quite enjoyable being pinned against a whiteboard making out with a man she could have sworn was just a thorn in her side.

[knightyoomyoui]

The 1% Of Chances | TWICE Jeongyeon x Male Reader Fanfic: CHAPTER 9

Hellooo! Damn, it's been almost 8 months now since I haven't updated this book, and I almost forgot where I left off, which required me to re-read this book and the plot outline I made. Sorry for those who waited, but what's important now is that IT'S BACK, and I'm finally going to finish this to lessen the worklist I have on my drafts. We are now down to 3 chapters left, and so far, I'm also applying some little changes to the ending because I just thought of something better than the originally planned one.

Actually, there's nothing much going on here in the entirety of this chapter, but it serves as a short "calm before the storm" moment that will finally set us up for the climax down to the conclusion of the story.

Since Jeongyeon doesn't have a schedule for today—which includes you as her personal manager—you've both agreed to go somewhere more fun with your spare time rather than just spending it in the dorm.

She offered to drive you home in Jeongyeon's own vehicle, taking the wheel as soon as you were done loading. You were taken aback at first, but because it was her initiating the task, you didn't mind objecting and allowing her to proceed so as not to ruin her fun.

You sat at the passenger's seat next to Jeongyeon and laughed together before she started the engine and operated the vehicle, stepping on the accelerator to get you both to your first destination.

"Do you want me to play some music while you drive?" You asked her, aware at the fact that although you can find yourselves some topic to talk about throughout the ride, it might die down and make the atmosphere a bit boring and quiet.

"Sure." She quickly replied to you, agreeing to listen too. "Hey, wanna do some carpool karaoke?"

"Was that like doing a karaoke while in a car?"

"Nice catch, genius…?" Jeongyeon looked at you in a deadpan manner which caused you to be slightly embarrassed. "Ofcourse silly, you just reversed the name. And yeah, it's simply singing along while we're on a ride."

"Hmm sure, I'll take the male vocals."

"Nope, I want you to sing with me even if it's female." Jeongyeon shook her head.

"I can't sing that well, my voice isn't low pitch." You declined. "And… it's making me shy."

"What? Why? It's just the two of us come on." Jeongyeon whined as she bounced at her seat to express her disappointment. "I wanna see you sing along to some female led-songs."

"I don't sing one, I'm mostly into male-leds."

"You sure?" She side-eyed you. "Hmm then what about when I saw you having that Sabrina Carpenter song on your Spot-"

"Okay okay stop!" You became flushed as you didn't expect Jeongyeon would use this as a retort card to capture you on the corner. "Ugh, fine. But I was just curious about it because I've been hearing it a lot on my Insta feed so… I tried to give it a listen."

"It was a vibe actually." She agreed.

"Yeah it sounds so good. Don't know her that much but that's probably one of my songs I could use to cheer myself up."

"Should we listen to it?"

"Okay…" You were about to search for it on your playlist until you paused. "Wait, we're gonna sing too right?"

"Mmhmm.."

"But her voice was smooth there, I might ruin the song with my monstrous voice."

"Hey, who told you that?!" Jeongyeon knitted her brows in disapproval at the self-deprecating term you chose. "I always thought you'd be a great voice actor or something, and you probably had such a great deep voice. It doesn't even matter if you can't match the notes; all I want is for us to have fun. Just go with the vibe of the song, that's all."

Also, don't you want your partner to be happy?" She was teasing you, pouting her lips and making fun at you with her sulky attitude. You've noticed her habit, and it was too irresistable to ignore without being continuously obstinate.

"Okay, fine, I'm going to play it. Damn it, Jeong, you really know how my weak spot is." You clicked your tongue as you pinched her cheeks, which made her giggle like a little girl. As you played the music, both you and her sang along together. She did laugh at you, but not because of how horrible you sound as what you think of yourself. You were pretty average, and she was just reacting this way because she was obviously impressed by you.

After going through your third song, you noticed in the GPS tracker that you're shortly meters away from reaching the place where you are heading both. You've decided to share something that popped into your mind.

"This is honestly my second time of going here." You recalled. "I remember when me and my family used to come here way before I was young."

"How old were you back then?"

"Hmm… 17 I guess?" You said. "It was a celebration for my brother being an honor awardee in his school. I kinda missed going here, well I wanted to bit you know, time passes and we grow old enough and some interests don't stay with us forever. My brother is already at the right age and he doesn't feel to visit these sort of place anymore like he used to be. Well even if he does, we still wouldn't be able to do so anyway."

"Why so?"

"Broken family." You bitterly smiled. "It won't feel the same as before anymore."

Jeongyeon looked at you concerned and gripped your hand. "Sorry to hear that. Hey, let's stop talking about it if it'll make you comfortable. We're now here, let's not kill the mood alright?"

"Yeah, sorry Jeong. It's my fault."

"No, don't mind it. You just want to recollect some memories you had, and you know I'm willing to listen to your stories anytime you want. I'll be here if you need something to release within yourself okay?" She lightly punched you in the chest then ruffled your hair.

"Okay." You smiled nicely at her. She gave you a quick kiss on the lips after that, increasing your energy back at its full capacity for today.

"Let me park this big boy right here first." She said as she paid for the parking fee at the guard before proceeding to enter the vacant lot.

You and Jeongyeon got out of your car and took your stuff after finding a spot to park for a while. You take her hand obediently as she shows the tickets to gain entry into Lotte Park, your first of three destinations to have some alone time together. You strolled across the park's entrance afterwards.

She put on her mask to reduce the attention she might get from individuals who might recognize her as a member of TWICE and a K-Pop idol. Even if it means that she will have to give up her freedom to display her bare face in public, she doesn't want anyone to disrupt this moment with you. She doesn't care because, at this point, all that matters to her is to be with you today.

"Where should we head on first?" Jeongyeon said as she viewed the entire interior of the amusement park, the different rides, attractions, arcades and many more all visible in your eyes to choose.

"Hmm… I want to… I want to eat first."

"Yah, seriously?" She chuckled at you. "We just ate before going out of the dorm and now you're hungry again?"

"I love eating, you can't blame me."

"You're also unfair and unbelievable, you know? You eat this much and yet you don't get fat." Jeongyeon elbowed you on the stomach. "Alright, you male counterpart of Momo, what fast-food chain you want?"

"Some hotdog station will do."

"I'm easy to talk with, so let's go." She grabbed your wrist and pulled it with her like you're a child being dragged along by your mother.

Reaching the 2nd floor where the food section is at, both of you stepped in front of the hotdog station where you wanted to eat. She lets you choose the order first since you're the one who requested this, and you kindly obliged to it.

Minutes later, you have received your foods altogether and ate it while watching the visitors around the place, having fun in their own ways. Even at sightseeing was fun to do so with your carefree and adventurous girlfriend, there won't be an instance where she wouldn’t try to find something hilarious for both of you to share laughters with.

For instance, she was telling you how much the other members enjoyed hotdogs when she just broke out into laughter. She mentioned that she had just witnessed a dad stumble in front of the playhouse while chasing his child when you asked her why. Even though you may not have witnessed it directly, Jeongyeon's laughter is contagious enough to make you get along with her easily.

After emptying your hotdogs, Jeongyeon brought yourselves back onto the main business of going here in the park. You immediately said your first preference to try.

The couple has attempted almost the entire selection of rides, attractions, and arcades all around the main lobby of the park, leading to yourself being highly exhausted from the adrenaline, enthusiasm, and laughter you have both spent playing like crazy.

You two rest on a bench first to conserve your energy for the next destination. You volunteered to wipe Jeongyeon's sweat across her back and arms and also bought some cotton candy for you and her. Another brief conversation has passed through, and after making yourselves satisfied, you exit and ride the car again with her to head to the following location.

You took the wheel this time as you let Jeongyeon sleep for a while after she shared that she's feeling sleepy. It was a silent ride, so you reopened your playlist and played it at a minimal volume to avoid disrupting your girlfriend's peaceful sleep.

It took like 45 minutes to get to the Seoul Museum of History, which was your suggestion to visit with her since you have to learn the history of everything, from its origin to how it evolved and what it left for the next generations to either adapt or innovate with respect to the progress of time in our world.

You woke up, Jeongyeon, after successfully reaching the designatedplace. She nodded in response, and she did some adjustment of her look to prevent looking haggard outside from her sleep. Bringing your camera with you, she walked with you again with arms clasped on each other, accompanying you towards the entrance of the museum.

You happen to roam around and snap pictures of the items, people, and events that transpired or existed in South Korea with Jeongyeon as a keepsake of your time spent with her, and these areas are organized into categories via each floor. Additionally, Jeongyeon was amazed and intrigued by several fascinating informations you learnt about Seoul and South Korea as a whole.

Once you've finished looking over all of the artifacts, antiques, statues, and other items on exhibit inside, you tell Jeongyeon that your time is up and you may go on to your final destination and finish the day with her.

Driving under the sky of Korea, about to greet the nightfall with the gradual emergence of the bright moon and the soft transition of the clarity of the clouds to the darkness of the aerial perspective, you and Jeongyeon calmly watched the surroundings you two were passing while on the way there.

Sighting the familiar spot from the distance, it brought relief for the both of you that you have made through all of these safely and successfully, bringing much joy to each other. Parking the car again for the third time, you joined Jeongyeon to stroll with you around Seokcheon Lake Park, your final place to spend the remaining time available tonight with her.

Apart from the rows of cherry blossoms that surrounding them, both of them were thrilled to capture the stunning scenery that would be perfect for a lovely pair like you and Jeongyeon.

You have spotted a tteobokki cart and without hesitation, you bought each for yourselves and claimed an available bench in front of the lake as you take a break along with her.

"Oh… mhmm… wow. Tteobokki will always remain one of the greatest foods I've ever tasted." You complimented after chewing the rice cake and sipping its sweet and spicy sauce.

"I'm with you on that." She also took a bit again and hummed at how satisfying delicious it is. "We did shaped this day better as what we expected, right?"

"And we deserve this too, after such hectic schedule that we had from you. I just hope the girls are doing well too on their own." You replied.

"I'm most certain they are. They aren't choosy or like timid to try something to entertain themselves through their day off. They're basically easy to explore things as long as they develop interest to it." She said.

You finished your food and threw it at the nearby trash bin before returning beside your girlfriend and cuddle with her. While watching the reflection of the nightsky through the crystal clear water of the lake, you inserted a topic that suddenly crossed your mind.

"Jeongyeon, do you think we'll last long?"

She looks at you before returning her gaze back at the scenery in front of you two. You felt her shoulders shrug, but the way her arms clenched yours tighter is enough to confirm her answer.

"I don't know, but I really hope we do. We just have to commit ourselves to do anything that won't break our trust for each other."

"Yeah, and for me… I don't even think it's possible for neither one of us to fell out of love someday. Especially me, I really do love you a lot, Jeongyeon. So much that I think even after everything that may happen to us for better or for worse, my heart would always bring me back to you."

"Can tell the same as mine." Jeongyeon smiled and made her head more comfortable laying atop on your shoulder. "We'll either just leave the fate on us… or we create a fate of our own where no matter what happens, from the start until the end, it will still remain to be you and I forever."

"I really can't wait for our wedding in the future." You chuckled as you caress her hand, especially the finger that you would love to insert your engagement and wedding ring for her. "But about that… I still have something to accomplish first before we get through there."

Jeongyeon may have caught what you meant by that. "Are you sure about that, YN?"

"They definitely knew about our relationship now anyway, it's all around the news and internet. I say we must not take them too long waiting for us to confirm it ourselves."

"So you're ready now."

"Almost… but I can handle it. I-I'm a bit nervous still at what your parents are going to react."

"They have no problem with it when they confronted me about it. They're nice, YN. I'm sure you'll easily win their approval, I mean… you fit the qualities of what they like the most for a guy that will take their daughter to marry." Jeongyeon giggled and and blushed at that fact.

"So you mean they're not also against on you loving a non-celebrity guy like me?"

"Tsk, as if they give a damn about it." She rolled her eyes and stared at you a bit intensely. "Them and even I don't need somebody who is also popular to be told as my perfect match. I take love seriously, and what I need in return is somebody who can give me that pure and sincere. I'm not someone who prefers bragging a relationship because of our social status, I just want a man who is willing to love me for who I am inside and outside, and I found it from you, YN. Because of that, you have stolen my heart and gave me the feels."

She tried to be serious after admitting it all to you until she slowly cracks a laughter after she saw your expression noticing something suspcious.

"Wait a minute…" You also began to cackle with her. "Did you really just included a reference to The Feels?"

"Yah! I thought I was too slick for that." She conceded defeat. "But I said what I said, and you know I mean what I mean, YN."

You pulled her head against you and kissed her directly on the lips, which took some time for yourselves to separate as you encouraged her to move your mouths deeper to make your intimacy more passionate, just as you wanted it.

You leaned away for a second and stared deeply at Jeongyeon's sparkling eyes while brushing her pink tinted cheeks. "I know, Jeongyeon, and I'll always have it on my mind while I feel your love for me."

"Great, then get back here and let me give you more." She pulled your collar through her, forcefully inviting you back into another heated kiss of affection.

As they arrived on the dorm, you both tried to continue making out with each other when suddenly it got interrupted again when you felt a stinging pain again in your head returned from yesterday.

"YN what's happening to you?" Your girlfriend checks up on you as she observes you loose the hem of her shirt from your grip while you groan and crunch your face.

"It's hurting again…"

"What? Where is it?"

"My head." You said as you hold your skull to endure the kicking pain that causes you severe discomfort.

It made Jeongyeon alerted at your condition. She went through the first aid kit and looked for some painkiller pills and filled a glass of water before going back to you and instructed you to take it.

You followed her advice and she let you lay your head beside her neck as she cuddled you. She slowly laid you down on the bed with her and gently stroked your hair.

"Calm down, YN. It will be gone shortly. I think you're tired of everything we did today, so rest up for now okay?"

"Okay."

"There you go. Goodnight and love you." She kissed you on the forehead before she continues taking care of you.

"Love you too, Jeong. Goodnight."

Both of you went calm that it disappeared and the medicine worked atleast… although only for a while.

Two days later while you are currently helping the stylists who are applying make ups to Jeongyeon and cleaning all the managers' leftover food containers, another episode of pain attacked your head again. It became confusing and quite frightening to you that the more you're suffering from this, the more painful it gets compared to last time .

What's surprising was that it didn't also occur at night which was way earlier today, pointing that it also happens now at a random period of time.

“Unnie, he’s been like this since few days ago. I don’t know what to do.”

"Jeongyeon, join YN. I'll call emergency and JYP for a while." Sadness said as she hurriedly reported your condition to both of these important people that can hold responsibility for your currently worrying state.

She returned to the dressing room, passing through staffs and the other TWICE members who are heavily scared and worried for both of their friends. "The ambulance are on their way now. JYP also agreed and mentioned that he will pay some visit for YN afterwards."

"Thank you unnie." Jeongyeon nodded before she returned her gaze at you who is still clenching your body like a ball while gripping your head furiously in pain.

"Hold on for a while, YN. Okay? Help is coming. Please, I hope nothing bad must happen to you," she said as she started to get teary-eyed seeing the love of her life suffering in her arms.

The medical team arrived at the place a few minutes later and immediately rescued the poor YN, putting him on a stretcher while Jeongyeon insisted on joining her boyfriend's side on the way to the hospital.

She guarded you intently, watching you barely opening your eyes and weakly breathing, while the thoughts and feelings disturbing her were filled with fear and anxiety regarding your health.

[yautjalover]

Distress Signal

I thought of this and have had it in my drafts for a few days now. I've been horribly sick with a virus, so here is some new content after so much waiting! I hope ya'll like it. <3

Content: Female Human/Male Yautja, Yautja boyfriend to the rescue, damaged ship, best friend injured

Content Warnings: bloody wounds, blood

Word Count: 1,566

Jaelah raced through the corridor, struggling to maintain her balance. The ship abruptly to its side again, forcing her to hold onto piping that lined the walls. She groaned, sucking in a sharp breath when her hip collided with another pipe. Forcing herself to take deep calming breaths, she waited until the ship righted again before continuing on. The cycling red emergency lights made it difficult to navigate the maze of corridors, but after so many months living on the ship, she had memorized every inch. Running on rote memory, Jaelah found her way to a blast door. 

She flipped open the control panel, tapping through the menus until she accessed the mainframe. The code trickled down the screen in a waterfall of blue letters and numbers, cascading vertically. 

Accessing the emergency codes, Jaelah typed in the necessary code to lock the necessary doors. The ship had already taken a great hit, so it wouldn’t survive another. Right as she went to tap Enter the ship jolted to the side again. 

Jaelah squealed in surprise when she was knocked onto her ass without notice. Her ass collided with the metal floor, sending a jolt of pain through her body. She didn’t waste time, however, in climbing back to her feet. She hit the enter key and almost immediately the ship groaned as it worked to close and secure the doors that led to the damaged parts of the vessel. 

Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Jaelah turned to run back to the other side of the ship. 

“Did it work?” Reina asked as she raced back into the common room. 

Her co-captain laid in a bruised heap on one of the couches, her long blonde hair fanned around her sweating face. Dried blood painted her forehead and chin. Her uniform was ragged and torn around her middle where a piece of metal still stuck out. Mountains of gauze were piled on the wound, most of them scarlet in color from the blood. Reina’s hands were coated in blood, too, from trying to keep pressure on the wound. 

“Yeah. I managed to close all but the necessary doors. All that’s left is the cockpit, here, mess, and medbay. It looks like we’re sleeping here until we can get help.” Jaelah relayed as she came to push her hands down on Reina’s bleeding stomach. 

Reina screamed in pain, tears falling free down her cheeks. She stiffened, struggling to speak.

“G-Good.” her co-captain managed finally. 

“Don’t worry. I sent out an SOS. Hopefully someone will get to us before the engines die out. How are you feeling?”

The blonde woman groaned, “Like shit. This hurts like hell…”

Jaelah grimaced, “Sorry,”

“It’s fine…” Reina sighed as Jaelah gave her another injection of pain medication. “I hope someone rescues us. It’s a miracle we made it out of that asteroid belt.”

“Yeah, no joke…” 

The women sat there in silence as Jaelah replaced Reina’s bloody bandages with new ones, trying her best to stop the bleeding. More blood continued to pool up around the strip of metal that impaled her best friend’s stomach. It seemed the bandages were only preventing the inevitable… Something neither woman was ready to handle just yet. Luck would have to be on their side, or even a miracle. 

An alert pinged on the tablet that sat on the coffee table. Jaelah wiped the sweat from her forehead and snatched the device, tapping on the screen to see what the latest bad news was. Shockingly, it was something she hadn’t expected so soon, or so quickly. 

“What is it, Jaelah?” Reina asked with concern, the woman having caught Jaelah’s expression. 

Jaelah watched the security footage in shock, and worry. She looked up to her friend, shuttering her expression.

“It’s…we’re being boarded by an unknown vessel…” 

“Thank goodness! Do you see any logos or serials? Maybe we can look them up before they get here!” the blonde peddled on with her theories and questions. 

Jaelah was already working on opening the doors that would lead their savior right to them. It would be easy to find them. This also prevented them from snooping around the ship. Their savior had a habit of being nosy. 

“Um, Reina,” she began, standing up to key the door open. “Remember how I said I’ve been seeing a guy on and off? Ya know, for sex and to see if we work out?”

Her friend twisted her face in confusion, muffling a whimper as she tried to sit up but failed. “Yeah… What about him?” 

She twisted her lips, chewing on her bottom one anxiously, “Well, he’s not quite…” she let out a huff of air, “Human?” 

“He’s not…human?” 

“Yeah,” Jaelah confirmed with a shy tight-lipped smile, sweeping her dark hair behind her shoulder.

She heard him more than saw him as she moved to stand next to her friend. 

“You two aren’t fighting are you?” Reina asked, worry dripping into her voice as a huge, wavy invisible figure walked through the door. They had to bend over to step inside and stand before them. 

“Pfft, no.” 

Jaelah watched as Zai’tho’s cloak fell away to reveal him. His massive seven foot tall frame made the common room look tiny. He wore his usual gray armor, covering his extremities and vital organs. As he came forward to remove his sinister looking mask, his chest-length locs swayed about, the bands in them clinking together. Under the harsh lights, his ruddy skin, mottled with black and brown splotches, looked shiny thanks to his tough hide. When he finally clipped his mask at his belt, his yellow eyes took in the sight of Jaelah smiling up at him and Reina gawking at him from the couch, the woman’s mortal wound forgotten in the face of the giant Yautja that now stood before them. 

“Zai’tho!” Jaelah greeted, rushing to throw her arms around his wide waist with a smile. “I’ve missed you.” 

The giant male purred softly, folding her into his embrace. “Jaelah, your absence has been felt.” 

She snickered, “I’m sure it has, but I’m sorry it had to be in these circumstances. How did you find us?” she pulled back to look up at him with questions in her eyes. 

“I was on the way to our rendezvous when I received a distress signal. When I saw it was you, I had to come and help.” Zai’tho explained.

He walked forward and knelt at the couch, ghosting a big hand down Reina’s stomach. Soft clicks left his throat as he opened a pouch on his belt, emptying it of various items that were vaguely familiar.

“Jaelah, I didn’t take you for someone who likes aliens.” Reina chuckled softly until she groaned in pain, reminded of her mortal wound. “Fuck, this shit hurts!”

Jaelah grimaced as she sat next to Reina on the couch, settling her head in her lap while Zai’tho prepared some kind of gel

“Sorry. I’m very private about my sex life.” she shrugged, watching Zai’tho peel back the bandages carefully. 

The Yautja smirked, “Yautja are the opposite.” 

“I already know you’ve told every one of your friends by now, babe.” Jaelah snickered, her eyes roaming appreciatively over her boyfriend’s large muscled form. 

He purred at her suggestively, “Indeed I have, but that discussion can wait.”

“Of course. My best friend is currently dying.” She explained, jumping back into business mode. “We ran into an uncharted asteroid belt and when we collided with one, Reina got fucked up in the mess of it all.”

“Yep. I ended up on the floor impaled by this piece of fucking metal.” Reina hissed as Zai’tho spread the gel around the metal. He injected her with some numbing medicine that he had formulated from his kit, this level being safe for humans. 

Zai’tho tightened his mandibles over his mouth sympathetically, “Be still while I pull this out. I will need to sedate you afterwards. From there I will bring you both to my ship and tow yours behind mine. Do not worry further, your lives are in my hands.”

Reina smiled, “Thanks, Zai’tho. Sleep is much better than this shit.” she gestured to her waist. 

Jaelah watched as her alien boyfriend wasted no time in giving Reina another injection, the injured woman quickly falling asleep. 

“Is…she going to be okay, babe? That wound doesn’t look very good…” Jaelah asked, sitting next to Zai’tho as he carefully removed the metal from Reina’s waist. 

He purred softly, “Yes, but she needs a lot of time in the heal tank. That is the only way she lives. Yautja technology.” 

She leaned into his shoulder as he dropped the twisted metal to the floor. The male quickly coated the wound with more gel and wrapped her waist with fresh bandages. A few minutes later he was leading Jaelah through the halls to his ship. Jaelah powered down her ship and joined him in his medbay where he laid Reina in a heal tank. Once her co-captain and best friend was floating in the healing liquid, he led her to the cockpit. 

“I’m so glad it was you who found us. Thank you, babe, truly.” Jaelah thanked him, pressing soft kisses to the side of his alien face. 

The Yautja bumped his forehead against hers affectionately. “I will always be there to protect you.” 

“I love you, Zai’tho.”

“And I love you, Jaelah.”

[beetled-juice]

went back to find the original draft I made for this fic on tumblr, and I made it July 31st of 2022. it started with a little under 2800 words and was so rough it's almost incomprehensible in spots. and now, after a few more hours of work tonight, I'm hitting just shy of 7.8k words and have a piece that is reaching a level of finish that I'm cautiously optimistic that it may actually see the light of day eventually.

while I'd love to attempt to have this publish-able on the one year anniversary of its conception, I'm not gonna put that pressure on myself. I just thought it was really cool to see just how far it's come, from some rushed babbling of an idea in the middle of the night to countless hours spent talking about it and working on it over the span of a whole year, to finally seeing it reaching some level of "complete"ness.

I know I don't include a lot of my process for creating posts / fics on here, but ik it's something I wish other authors I admire did because it would make the imposter syndrome feel a little less overwhelming. it's just really easy to see a finished and posted fic and have the worms in your brain try to tell you that they just sat down and spit it out in one go and hit post, or had a developed idea and went through an orderly process to get to a finished product, but I 100% guarantee that that is never the case for me. there are months-long gaps between working on a piece, and a lot of scrapping of things and rewriting because i'm not happy with something, and this is not by any means an unusual way of writing fic.

ig what i'm trying to get at is like. from the outside I can imagine that this looks like i've just somehow managed to spit out almost 8k words with no issues and will have it ready by whenever, and for other fic writers that can seem really discouraging! so I figured i'd share just how ridiculously long i've been hammering away at this and how it's only come to fruition because i'd get random bursts of inspiration every few months. this single fic is also just one of around ~40 fics that are in various stages of wips, from "one sentence ideas" to "conceivable to post someday". I just think authors being more open about what it took to get to a finished piece will help foster a fandom environment where anyone can feel like they can share and post work, something that is vital for keeping a fandom alive!

Okay I'm posting this as an attempt to keep myself accountable.

I'm now over 7k words into my beej x reader x clone nsfw fic, and I swear I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have one section left to write, then I need to edit + flesh out certain parts more, and then... filth be upon ye >:3

[flanaganfilm]

Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??

Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.

To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.

Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.

It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.

It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.

I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.

I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.

We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.

We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.

I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)

I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.

I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.

I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.

As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.

She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."

This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.

There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.

So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.

I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?

What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.

I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.

"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.

"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...

"Confetti."

And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.

Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.

I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.

I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.

And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.

So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."

It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.

I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.

"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.

And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."

I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."

Why not shoot it and see what happened.

I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.

I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.

Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.

It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.

By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.

Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.

Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.

And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.

Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.

I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.

The line, for me, represents a lot of things.

It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.

It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.

And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.

The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.

It's the love that stays.

[edensbuttercups]

Thank you - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a pretty long time, but finally it has been completed and I'm not too mad about it, which I deem a success. I've been trying to keep busy and write more, so if there's any requests, ideas, thoughts, anything really, I'm more than glad to read about them and discuss them or write about them ♡

(Also can you tell I suck at titles? Because I can)

Words: 1.8k

He sat on the edge of the sofa, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, sighing in disbelief at his realisation. He had lost them. His dad’s sunglasses. Gone. He looked everywhere, from the bedroom, to his jacket, his car, everywhere. He looked in each room, and the most he had found was some coins that had slipped into the kitchen drawer and some receipts that had been lying in one of his jackets for way too long.  

It felt stupid for one moment, clinging on to an object that meant so little to so many people, but that was one of the things that made him feel the most at home. Even in his rarer moments of fear, the way the world assumed a tinted colour while he wore them comforted him enough to push on, making him feel closer to everything that he had lost. His fingers shook as he took a steady breath, standing up once again and looking around the room. Trying to retrace each step of the previous day, he stood dumbfounded when he realised that he had no clue when he last even had them on. He felt his chest tighten at the realisation, and this somehow felt worse than what he had gone through on that goddamn mission. This felt worse, and he couldn’t breathe, and all he could do was close his eyes and go back to last evening, hoping, really hoping that he could somehow retrace his steps.

“Over here!” you waved your hand over your head in an almost theatrical way, catching his attention from just outside the Hard Deck. You had agreed on meeting here as soon as he was done, and both of you had found a way to finish just a little ahead of schedule, wanting to spend some quality time after a few days of barely seeing each other because of work. He beamed when he saw you in that dress, one of his favourites, and ran the rest of the way, opening his arms wide to catch you in a hug and spin you around. His lips peppered soft kisses along your cheeks before settling for your lips, pulling you closer, not fully intending on letting you go. “Babe, we should go.” You tried to interject, loving the tickling sensation his moustache offered but painfully aware of how close the time was to inching to your reservation. “I told them 8pm sharp. And it’s-“ “7:39, honey. I know what I’m doing.” He cracked a smile and winked at you, his sunglasses slipping lower as he did, gracing you with the sight of his hazel eyes. “You know I don’t like being late.” “It’s a 5 minute drive from here and the Bronco is ready for us.” “But what if-“ "Most people will be here tonight.” He pointed behind you, reading the small sign that Penny had put up. Fridays: Karaoke night. All of the aviators had been challenging each other for the past month, choosing the cheesiest songs they could and making Fridays their night, singing their hearts out and enjoying the time together. And yet Rooster would rather have you to himself than humiliate Hangman at Karaoke.

The restaurant was basically empty and you were basically on time (with a whopping three minutes to spare, because yes, you had arrived early, but you also ended up in each other’s arms for some time, whispering sweet nothings and sharing kisses before finally leaving the car), and the waiter so kindly showed you your table, the view of the sea and the soft crashing of the waves in the distance lulling you into a comfortable silence. You ordered and talked for most of the evening, catching up on what had happened in the past few days, laughing at how into his storytelling Bradley got, gesturing around as he spoke.  Once you recovered from your laughter you peaked down, seeing the small thing you had gotten earlier today for Bradley, smiling when you remembered about it.  “You know, I was forgetting actually but… I got you something.” He laughed, raising his hands and insisting that you didn’t have to get him anything. “It’s a date, no gifts needed.” “I know, but I saw this and it reminded me of you.”  You reached down for your bag and pulled the shirt up, smiling as he reached over to grab it, unfolding it to inspect it. It was simple, yet way more colourful than his favourite beige Hawaiian shirt. This one was dark blue and scattered with birds and flowers, some of the threads of gold, the material light and breezy, perfect for a summer evening. You watched as his eyes crinkled in adoration, absolutely adoring your choice. He peeled the shirt he was currently wearing and slipped the new one on. “It’s so elegant.” “You’re the only one that could call a Hawaiian shirt elegant, Roos.” “No, but come on, it’s fancy!” “It is fancy.” You laughed, seeing his excitement. “I love it.” “I’m happy you do.” you replied, your smile growing. “I love you.” he muttered, leaning over the table to kiss you, his hand cupping your cheek, feeling your smile at the gesture before reaching down to take his shirt off, substituting it with his new one, the colours making his skin glow. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You joked from the door, walking into your house and coming to a halt when you saw Rooster standing in the middle of the living room, eyes scrunched up in concentration as he looked ahead, not yet aware of your presence. “Baby?” You walked over and shook him lightly, worried when his eyes found yours and one of the tears slipped from his eyes, his breathing picking up once more and inching towards frantic, the air escaping his lungs faster than he could take more in. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” “My glasses.” He said, and you could see the tension in his jaw, an attempt at keeping it together. He hated when his emotions got the best of him, knowing how he should be able to be calm and collected, but sometimes he just couldn’t. And when that sometime was over something as relatively silly as this? That made it worse. You reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek, leaning over to kiss him softly. “It’s okay, we’ll find them. You had them yesterday.” you said, remembering when you had met before going out. He had them on when he kissed you, and he had them on until he climbed into the Bronco, slipping them in his shirt’s pocket. You went over the night aloud, adding some comments here and there to try to get him to smile, like how how pretty he looked when he picked you up wearing them, or how he definitely had them when he made out with you, almost making you late_, barely getting a reaction from him, but still proud of the slight twitch in his lips. “Your new shirt.” You said, finally stopping your ramble and glancing up at him, one hand up at the connection you made. “I already checked, they’re not-” “No, I mean, I gave you the new shirt last night. You took them off before that.” You tried to think back to when you got home. It was late, and you had drank, which made this task harder, especially when all you could truly focus on was the way he had held you once you walked through the door, his hands holding you steady as you slipped your shoes off, the darkness surrounding both of you as you made your way to the bedroom.  You reached the bedroom, looking down on the floor. No shirt there, but… “The car? Did you check in the-?” “Yes.” he interrupted you, tone harsh and frustrated. “Bradley.” You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed while stopping your movements. You knew he was frustrated, you knew he was panicking, but you were only trying to help. “I’m sorry.” You nodded. You knew he was, and his tone was honest, no matter how harshly that also came out as. “Help me look. Where did you leave your shirt? The old one.” you specified this time, taking a deep breath. “Laundry.” He pouted slightly, aware of your intent in helping him, but still annoyed and upset about the situation. He wasn’t panicking anymore though, which he was thankful for.

You nodded once more, walking into the bathroom and stopping the washing machine, waiting for some of the water to drain before opening it, rummaging through in search. “Here it is!” you exclaimed victoriously, pulling out his shirt, soapy and drenched, eyes on him. You watched him as his expression changed from stern to relieved, his eyes softening and welling up when he saw the familiar outline in the dripping pocket, kneeling alongside you and pulling them out. A soapy mess, but intact and fine and perfect. “See, it all worked out.” You said, placing a hand on his arm, letting out a squeal when he pulled you in his arms, trapping the wet shirt in between your bodies. Neither of you cared, his relief making his grumpy mood immediately vanish, and the feeling of being in your arms making your victory all the more worth it. “I love you.” He muttered into your shoulder, holding you close. “I know it was silly, sorry for how I acted.” “Roos.” You pulled away, searching for his eyes, placing your hand on his cheek. “I know what they mean to you. You’ve had them for your whole life. They’re important to you, and anything that is important to you is not silly, not to me. Okay?”  He smiled at your words, nodding. “And I love you too.” You added with a smile. “Good.” he chuckled lightly, standing and bringing you up with him, the shirt falling with a plop onto the floor. “We should probably get out of these wet clothes, right?” He asked with a smirk, drying his sunglasses on the bit of his shirt that was still dry, gently placing them on the bridge of his nose with a charming smile, his hand trailing up your arm, slipping under the strap of your dress. He let his mouth fall agape when the strap slipped down your arm, pretending to be surprised by his own action. “You're unbelievable.” you said back, smirking yourself as you reached nonetheless for his shirt, pulling the material up to reveal his skin.  "And you love that." he winked, laughing.Shirt and dress discarded, he couldn’t help but look at you, pulling you back against him, his arms tight around you. “Thank you.” He whispered again, holding onto you for just a moment longer, before picking you up and taking you to the bedroom, knowing just how he could thank you.

[mooodyblue]

baby's first christmas | little!austin x cg!reader

summary: you decide to make you and austin's first christmas together a little more special.

requested: sorta!

warnings: agere, little space

wc: 806

a/n: this has been in my drafts since february. FEBRUARY. this was requested by an anon ages ago and im sooo sorry for just now posting it. like this was right when i started writing little!austin.....anyway. posting this because i havent posted in three days and i feel BAD !! writers block is kicking my butt. enjoy.

masterlist

not only was christmas your favorite holiday, but it was austin's too. what made it more special was that this christmas would be your first together. having moved in with austin several months ago, that meant you got to help decorate for christmas which was truly one of your favorite parts of the holiday. of course, there were some arguments here and there. one about wanting an inflatable snowman out in the front yard but austin wanting santa claus. you wanted white lights and austin wanted multicolored lights. at least you both decorated the tree with no arguments.

to top everything off, you learned about a new side of austin a few weeks before christmas after catching austin baby talking to a stuffie he had tucked away in his closet. he didn't know that you knew about that side of him. however, you wanted him to know that it was okay to open up to you about it whenever he was ready and by doing that, you decided you were going to spoil him for your first christmas together.

you could tell austin was really trying to hold it in on christmas morning. he was visibly excited, bouncing his leg up and down during breakfast and tapping his fingers on the table to fight off that feeling in his head. you just hoped austin didn't get upset at your choice in gifts today.

"i don't think i've ever seen you so excited." you chuckled, sipping from your christmas mug.

austin laughed awkwardly, "i just really like christmas, i guess." he toyed with his own mug, running his hands around it, feeling the smooth, warm texture of the glass. "it's our first christmas together, y'know?"

"mhm," you nodded. "first of many, hopefully." you joked, cringing slightly at your poor joke.

he looked at you with a straight face, squinting his eyes. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"bad joke. let's go open presents." you quickly said, leaving the kitchen.

austin shook his head and followed you, eyes widening at the amount of gifts under the tree. he'd gotten you a few things, but when he checked the tree last night, there definitely wasn't that many gifts there last night.

you sat down in front of the tree, grinning. "looks like santa stopped by."

austin looked at you confused, sitting down in a criss-crossed position. seeing the gifts, the idea of santa actually coming and bringing him gifts all mixed with the excitement of christmas was almost overwhelming for him. but he needed to hold it together, hoping he could find time to slip by himself later today. his thoughts were interrupted once you placed a small gift in his lap, smiling wide.

you noticed how off he was and decided to rip it off like a bandaid, having the first gift he opens be one for his little self.

he unwrapped the tiny box, careful of not ripping up the bow and setting the tinsel aside. panic arose once he opened it, revealing a small, glow in the dark paci with little stars on it. "i-what-" he stuttered, looking at you with concerned eyes.

"you don't have to tell me now. you can explain things to me when you're more comfortable, but i just-i don't know. gotta be better than just using your thumb, 's got germs and everything."

austin just wanted to cry. not sad tears, but happy tears. he just stared at the paci in awe, the feelings in his head finally coming together, as if it a switch were flicked on in his brain. his glassy eyes met yours, unsure of what to say. "'s not weird?" he finally asked, still in denial of how accepting you were of him.

letting out a gasp, "weird? of course not! i love my little baby boy, i would never think he's weird."

his lips perked up at you saying the words, pointing at himself.

"yes that's right! you're my baby boy and i love you so so much." you smiled. "in fact, how about another gift? hm?" you dug through the gifts and handed him another one, a slightly bigger box wrapped in santa themed paper. he opened it excitedly, gasping and pulling out his new plushed friend, a puppy with brown flappy ears. "did santa bring you a new friend?"

too far gone in his headspace to reply, he hugged the stuffed, plush puppy close to his chest as bounced happily, babbling tiny little 'thank you's. you'd never seen austin so happy and so comfortable around you. although you had gifts for big austin as well, seeing little austin enjoy every single plushie, toy, and sippy cups that you had gifted him as a way to show you cared was all you needed to make this christmas the best one you've ever had.

[angelst4re]

hii ash!! me againnn! so i was wondering if you could like do a little cute moment with jamie and poc reader cause i don't see a lot of those. basically like every day or something she has a new hair style and he's so curious about it and stuff or like him helping her take down her knee length braids (bc for whatever reason we love hella long braids 😭)

hi lovely!! this idea is just so <33 i don't think i've written for poc reader yet which is mad!! but this was so cute to write <3

Personal Hairdresser- Jamie Campbell Bower x poc!Reader

summary: in the request!!

warnings: none!! :)

notes: i remember writing this, but i also don't remember writing this? like i remember planning it out and everything and i've just seen it in my drafts?? this is crazy! anyways, i'm sorry this is pretty short but i really wanted to post it now!! <3

Jamie has always loved you hair, and it was always a mystery to him how it would be so different every now and then. The different colours, lengths and styles always intrigued him, and a few months into your relationship he finally plucked up the courage to ask about it.

He felt silly when you told him they were all different wigs! However, he also asked to see the ones you owned, as the few he had seen were all gorgeous, he knew he would love the others.

He gasped when you showed him your collection, and was drawn to one in particular. It was a cherry red colour, and it held loose curls. You showed him pictures you had taken in it, and you saw how his eyes lit up with nothing but pure love and adoration.

“You’re always so gorgeous, darling,” he told you, “always the prettiest in the room.”

You smiled at his words, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have him, and he felt the same towards you.

Fast forward a few months, you told Jamie how you were thinking about taking your braids out. You’ve had them in for a while now and were thinking about changing your hair up again. Jamie seemed a little disappointed when you told him, it was so obvious that he adored the super long braids you’ve had, so long they could almost touch your knees! However, he was so excited to see what your hair would look like next, what colour it would be, what length it would be. He couldn’t wait to find out.

When you told him you were thinking about taking them out tomorrow, he volunteered to help you. You told him it was a long process, that it may take a few hours, but he still insisted on helping you.

So, the next morning you began taking them out, and showing Jamie how it’s done. You put on some music and sat down with some snacks, and the two of you got to work.

"I'll do the first one," you told him, "and you can see how it's done."

Jamie nodded his head, focusing on the way your fingers gently pulled the braid apart.

"So what are you thinking about doing next?" He asked, his eyes trained on what you were doing.

"I might just keep it natural for a little while," you said, "have you ever seen my natural hair?" You asked curiously, turning to look at your boyfriend, who was thinking.

"I think so," he said, although it sounded more like a question, "wait I have! The first night I stayed over, and we showered together."

You watched the smile creep onto his face as he thought back on the memory, but you quickly switched up the mood he created.

"Wanna try?" You asked, handing Jamie the scissors.

Jamie was gentle as he snipped the bottom of the braid off, too worried to cut it where your actual hair was incase he cut off your hair.

"Am I doing this right?" He asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"You're doing it perfectly, love." You said with a smile, watching his face, painted with concentration.

He pulled apart the braid, carefully combing it with his fingers, working his way up to your waist, your shoulders and eventually your head. He continued to be so gentle with you as he worked on taking it out.

He felt so happy that he could help you, and he promised you that he will always be your very own personal hairdresser whenever you needed him.

[itscominghome]

More Than Anything

Requested by: @lottievieira27

Summary: You moved over to London from your home in Brazil to get sports physiotherapy experience with Chelsea FC. Your visit made permanent when you meet your now boyfriend, Kepa Arrizabalaga. After living there for two years, you decide it's time to go back home and see your family for Christmas. And this time, Kepa comes with you.

Based at Christmas 2021

Notes: This whole request was completely deleted from my drafts for some reason. The anguish I went through whilst rewriting half of this was insane, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes and typos or the writing is sloppy.

"Kep?" I call out as I see my boyfriend walk past the living room door.

"Yes, mi amor?" he replies, taking a few steps back and popping his head around the doorframe.

"So, you know how I'm going back to Brazil for Christmas," he nods his head, "well, I was thinking-"

"Oh, that's a dangerous thing," Kepa replies with a smirk, I glare at him, feigning offence.

"Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. Would you want to come with me and meet my family?" Kepa's face lights up.

"Really!? Yeah! Of course I'll to come with you!"

So, that's how, a month later, we were both on a plane, on our way to Rio. My head was rested his shoulder and his head on mine. We were both woken up by the bumps of the runway and my excitement only intensified. Both excited to see my family again, and to introduce them to my boyfriend.

The entire walk to my parents was spent with my hand tightly intertwined with Kepa's. The cold causing us to huddle together as we walk for warmth. Kepa and I had been together for just over a year now. We'd met at Chelsea, where I was getting work experience for sports physiotherapy and at his first session with me, we had completely hit it off. I was decently close with all of the Chelsea team, but me and him, we just had that extra bit of chemistry. That better connection. So when Covid had hit and the country went into lockdown, we'd agreed to live together so neither of us were alone. And within three months, things just slotted into place. It had all been in the public eye from quite early on. Kepa is quite territorial, wanting everyone to know I was his, though he knew it didn't stop the lingering looks from guys at parties. The press and Chelsea fans didn't originally agree with our relationship, claiming it to be unprofessional having a player and a physiotherapist together from the same team. Tuchel had no problem with it though, so we continued. After a few months the press and fans had changed their mind on our relationship, enjoying how open we were about being together and loving all the cutesy content they would receive.

I had met Kepa's family in the Christmas of 2020 and I loved every second of my time spent over in Spain. His mum and I had gotten on very well, her telling me as we cooked dinner one night that she thought I was 'the best thing that had ever happened to her son'. We had never talked about it directly, but of course I knew about the split held had from his long-term girlfriend of the time. She had told me how hard it had been for him and how much I'd helped him get his confidence back. Though, I know he'd done that all by himself, he just needed that little bit of a push.

Knock. Knock. Knock. The door had flung open almost immediately and I was greeted by both of my parents. My mum pulled me into a tight hug, as did my dad when she pulled away. After the greetings between myself and my parents, I began to introduce Kepa who was stood just out of sight.

"Mãe, pai, I have someone I'd like you to meet," I say as Kepa moves to stand by my side, "This is Kepa, my boyfriend," I finish with a sense of pride, smiling up at him. My face changes very quickly as he starts to speak Portugese.

"Ei, é muito bom finalmente conhecer vocês dois*," I stand there with a look of confusion, brows furrowed and nose scrunched up a little bit. He shakes my father's hand. My Mum is smiling widely, I always knew she would like Kepa, but I also knew that my Dad would need more convincing.

"É um prazer conhecê-lo também, nós ouvimos tudo sobre você" he replies.

"Yeah, I haven't quite got that far yet," Kepa laughs back as my mum pulls him into a hug, kissing both of his cheeks in greeting. After the initial introduction, we're invited in, engulfed by the warmth of the house.

"So, the most expensive goalkeeper in the world, eh?" My dad questions as we talk about Kepa's football career.

"Yes sir, but unfortunately I've been on the bench for a while, I had a bit of a knockback, but I'm getting better. And it's all because of your daughter," he replies, smiling fondly at me.

"I've not done anything really, it was all you, I've just been there to support you,"

"Yeah, and that's what I've needed, and you gave me it without second thought,"

After a few hours of talking, it was starting to get late and everyone was starting to get hungry.

"Y/N/N, can you come and help me prepare some food?" my Mum asks and of course I comply. Within maybe ten minutes, I have Kepa stood behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to my lips occasionally. My mum gushes over it all as we continue to cook.

"Kep, babe, why don't you go back into the living room, have a beer with my Dad or something, talk about football?" He pouts a little bit, not wanting to leave my side, but does eventually go back into the other room, reluctantly.

"Your dad really likes him, you know?" My mum says with a smile, "So do I, he clearly loves you a lot." I smile at the ground almost shyly.

"He's good for you, and by the sounds of it, you're good for him. We've seen all the stuff the press has said. And The Sun, oh they just love to rip into your relationship even a year later, and you've stayed strong through it all. You're meant for one another. And me and your dad know that we aren't going to see you all the time anymore because you've found him, but we also understand that you've grown up and you leaving Brazil permanently to be with him, it is going to be one of the best decisions you'll ever make. He makes you so happy, and we can see that in the way you look at each other. He adores you."

After dinner, we had moved back into the living room, Kepa still sucking up and telling both me and my mum how delicious the food had been. I'd tried telling him how much my family already loved him, but his aim to please was too high. When we had sat back down, I cuddled up to my boyfriend on one of the couches, sat opposite my parents. Him and my dad were in deep conversation about his time at Chelsea, his life back in Spain, just making an effort to get to know each other, my Mum occasionally getting involved. My eyes started to get heavy, so I just let them slowly close. I don't know how long I had been asleep for, but when I woke back up, my head had been moved to Kepa's lap and his fingers ran softly through my hair. I hadn't opened my eyes yet, catching onto the current conversation going on whilst they thought I was asleep.

"Do you love her?" My Dad asks. And without missing a beat, Kepa replies.

"Mais do que nada*,"

*Ei, é muito bom finalmente conhecer vocês dois = Hey, it's nice to finally meet you both.

*Mais do que nada =

More than anything.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 (𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞)

Pairing: Song Mingi (Ateez)× Reader (Female) ft. Park Seonghwa (Ateez)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor.

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: Mingi has liked Y/N for the longest time and works up the courage to confess to her.......until he witnesses her confessing to someone else.

Tag: @seacottons . Happy birthday my tiny goofy goober.

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"Scribbling away another love letter that you'll end up throwing in the garbage bin yet again?"

Mingi quickly covered the paper in front of him with his large hands, startled by the voice of his friend who silently came in the room.

"Yeosang don't freaking scare me like that! Seriously, I'm going to ask Seonghwa to put a bell on you."

Adjusting the glasses on his nose, Mingi carefully folded the paper before placing it inside a pink colored envelope which he ended up wrapping a string around it. For the final touch, he attached a small flower on it like he did on all the other ones, this time it was a mini red carnation, which he gently kissed before placing it in the stash with the others.

Yeosang simply shook his head and sighed.

"Mingi, I'm no relationship expert, but don't you think it'd be better to tell Y/N how you feel instead of pouring your heart out into a piece of paper and storing it in a cold corner?"

The taller male sat still for a couple seconds, thinking about his friend's words. Maybe he would....and yet-

"No I- I can't do that! I mean, look at me. I'm just Mingi and she's Y/N."

Yeosang rolled his eyes.

"Yes, glad to see you know both of your names. But what's keeping you from telling her? Like seriously?"

Kicking himself off the chair, Mingi slumped onto his bed, sprawling all over it and groaning dramatically.

"She's super cool, funny, kind, caring and has eyes to die for..."

Lifting his head up he smiled goofily at Yeosang who just scrunched his nose at how lovesick Mingi was. Coming back to reality, Mingi rolled over onto his back. Clutching a nearby pillow, he hugged it as he looked at the ceiling.

"And I'm just me.......she'd never fall for someone like me..."

Yeosang sat next to him. Patting his arm in an effort to comfort him, he suggested:

"Why not try still? Who knows? Maybe you'll end up being surprised yourself."

Mingi pondered over his Yeosang's words long after he was gone. He looked back at the stash of written confessions he had drafted over the past months.

"Why not? After all, it wouldn't hurt me to try......"

"Right?"

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Y/N paced back and forth around the living room, feeling extremely anxious and agitated.

"It's ok Y/N. Just breathe and you'll be fine. The worse he can do is reject you right? No biggie." She mentally told herself.

Looking back at the cake on the island, she double checked to make sure it looked perfect and even. She had to remind herself to thank Yunho for telling her what his friend's favorite cake was, even if he had demanded a cake of his own as payment for the information. She got startled when she finally heard the door open.

"Don't panic! Don't panic!" She couldn't keep herself from fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater.

Maybe there was still time to back out of this, maybe she could pretend she dropped the cake for all of them, even if he was the only one there at that moment. She was so frustrated she actually leaned her forehead against the wall in front of her and whined lowly.

"Y/N?" She finally heard him speak.

Without turning around, she lifted a hand behind her to signal him to not speak. Taking a deep breath she declared:

"Listen! I'm only going to say this once so hear me out...."

The man behind her stood there, eyeing her curiously, wondering what she'd say. He was pretty shocked when he heard her continue.

"I've liked you for the longest time now...... like seriously like you. Every time I see you, I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest..."

Sighing softly, she got to the final part.

"I understand if you don't feel the same, if you'll see me as nothing but a friend. After all, you're an idol and have so many pretty faces constantly surrounding you, and you're so handsome, so perfect and sweet and cute and- ugh! I just wanted to let you know that I really really like you ok?!"

She felt so embarrased by herself and actually contemplated banging her head against the concrete in front of her. She already could feel the rejection coming, the silence being the huge indicator. Not able to bear the silence anymore, she turned around.

"Stop dragging it on and just tell me- Seonghwa?!"

She was beyond mortified when she saw the eldest Ateez member in front of her, who was now poking at the cake.

"I mean........ I appreciate the sentiment Y/N, but you should know my favorite ice cream is strawberry. Not .....whatever this is..."

Y/N snatched the cake away from him.

"It's not for you idiot! And the confession wasn't for you either!"

Seonghwa pretended to be hurt by her words.

"Ouch. You hurt me so bad." He mock pouted, causing her to roll her eyes.

"But honestly, thank God it wasn't for me. I was about to get a heart attack from thinking about how to let you down gently."

Y/N looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, no offense Y/N. You're cute and all but I just see you as a friend." He explained.

"None taken. You're cute and all but I just see you as the other's nanny." She teased him.

"Hey you take that back!" He swatted at her, causing her to laugh and almost drop the cake.

"Ok but if you weren't expecting me to come by the door? Who were you expecting?"

Leaning his elbow on the wall, Seonghwa looked at Y/N with a mischievous twinkle in the eye.

"Tell me. I must know who among our members is it that makes your heart pound so much?"

"That's my secret." She pretended to zip her lips tightly.

"Awww come on! I hardly get any excitement anymore! Tell me! I wanna know!" He continued pestering her to dish it out.

She bit her lip before deciding she could trust him.

"It's.....it's Mingi. ..."

Seonghwa immediately got a shocked look on his face which terrified Y/N, but then it confused her when he started smiling widely.

"Are you serious?! That's great!" Seonghwa actually hugged her tightly.

"Why is that great?"

Seonghwa leaned in, pressing his lips to her ear.

"Because, he may or may not be also crushing on you....hard."

Seonghwa chuckled at her reaction.

"Cute. Super cute."

Seonghwa couldn't resist the urge to nuzzle his nose against her cheek, making Y/N make gagging noises at his affection and jokingly attemp to escape his grasp.....

Yet neither of them noticed the heartbroken pair of eyes that was watching them.

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Mingi was upset for the next few days and didn't even try to hide it. He couldn't get that image out of his head. He could still hear Y/N's voice say:

"I've liked you for the longest time now...... like seriously like you. Every time I see you, I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest...

I just wanted to let you know that I really really like you ok?!"

He was so shocked to hear her say that. For the longest time he had wanted to hear her utter those words....

But they weren't for him, they were for someone else.

He couldn't stay anymore. He quietly exited the dorm to give them both the space they needed. Waiting for several minutes outside, he debated whether to go back inside and see what happened or just go back to the company to practice the choreography once more and hopefully get his mind off things. Curiosity getting the better of him, Mingi slowly opened the door again and silently peeked his head back in.

He instantly regretted it and wished he had just gone back to practice. It absolutely destroyed him watching his Hyung be lovey dovey with the girl of his dreams and he knew he'd hate the coming days. Which was why he stayed in his room or just went out to practice to keep his mind occupied.

He wasn't in the mood to play with Yunho, mess with Hongjoong and especially not eat what Seonghwa cooked. It started to worry the others and of course, it also worried Y/N to no end. She tried to cheer him up, make him his favorite foods or try to get him out of bed, but it was all in vain. Mingi would end up shutting down more and just dismissing her attempts, sometimes harshly.

"Y/N please just leave me alone! I don't want to see you!" He yelled at her one day when he just couldn't control what he'd kept bottled up inside.

He instantly felt bad when he saw her sad and disappointed eyes, but didn't apologize. He simply grabbed his coat and went for a walk, leaving the poor girl in total disillusionment. Y/N sat down on his bed, her hand gently stroking the throw blanket he always kept.

"Now you've got a long face. Don't tell me it's contagious."

Usually she'd chuck a pillow at Yeosang's comment, but she didn't even feel like doing that.

"What's with you?" Yeosang asked as he took a seat next to her.

"I'm just....hurt.." She admitted.

"Why?" He continued his interrogation.

"I just......wanted to help Mingi but instead he lashed out at me and it hurts because I care about him a lot and it hurts to have the person you like treat you so coldly."

She didn't even realize she had just told Yeosang her secret, but she was too hurt to even think about the words coming out of her mouth. Yeosang however seemed intrigued by what she said, and knowing how Mingi was pining for her as well, couldn't understand either why he'd make her feel that way.

"If it's any consolation..... he likes you too."

Although Seonghwa had already hinted that Mingi liked her too, she couldn't really take his words seriously because Seonghwa tended to misinterpret things. But she knew Yeosang was straightforward and honest in everything, plus he wouldn't make something like this up.

"He does?" She looked at him incredulously.

Yeosang nodded. Remembering the box Mingi hid, he got up, not caring whether it was ok or not to do this, but something had to be done. Picking up the red box he placed it on Y/N's lap.

"Read them. They're Mingi's. Maybe there you'll find a clue about what's bothering him."

Ruffling the top of her head, Yeosang exited the room and closed the door behind him, knowing she'd probably want the privacy.

Snapping the latch up, Y/N was more than surprised to see several letters neatly laid out in the box. There were at least a dozen of them, all addressed to her and stacked by the order they were written in. The envelopes were all different colors, and each had a unique flower attached to it, some already dried out from how old they were, but others were still fresh and vibrant. Picking up the first one in the stack, she noticed it was dated 1 week after she had just moved into the apartment next to them.

"Dear Y/N,

I know you'd find it odd to hear me say this, but I think you're so pretty and nice and I was wondering if one day you'd like to go on a date with me? Let me know."

She giggled softly at how cute he was. She poured over the next letters one by one, each time they were getting longer and longer than the last one, and they certainly became more romantic.

"Dear Y/N,

It's been only a few minutes since we all went to bed cause New Year's is over, but I honestly can't sleep. Not when my head is filled with images of you at the party, looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress you wore. Let me tell you, I could hardly keep myself still when the fireworks began. I seriously wanted to kiss you right then and there, and I would have, but that would have probably freaked you out and I can't have that. Admiring you was enough for me and I know I will get to kiss you, even if it's only in my dreams."

Y/N fondly remembered that. She recalled how she fantasized about Mingi kissing her as well. She desperately wanted him to cup her face and just plant his luscious lips on hers. She could feel herself blushing as she thought about how they would feel and what would they taste like. It was well an hour later but she finally reached the last letter, which was actually written up just yesterday. This time it was in a dark blue envelop and it had a tiny stem of Forget-Me-Nots on it.

"Dear Y/N,

I know it's foolish to keep writing these things when I now know you can never be mine, when I know your heart belongs to someone else. But I need to get it off my chest and finally say this:

I love you..."

She clutched her heart when she read that, tears already forming in her eyes.

"I love you, but I can never have you. Yet I hold no resentment towards you. You're free to love who you want. I wish you and Seonghwa Hyung nothing but happiness and I hope he treats you like the princess you are.

Forever yours, hoping you never forget me,

Song Mingi."

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering what he meant by being happy with Seonghwa. Then it hit her. Mingi had started acting strange the day after the misunderstanding with Seonghwa happened. Which meant he must have seen something and thought-

"Oh my God!"

Y/N quickly ran out the room, almost bumping into San who dramatically slammed his back on the wall, holding his beloved baby high above any danger.

"It's ok my precious Byeol! Your father has saved you from this heathen who doesn't know that she shouldn't run in the house especially when I'm with child!"

San shook his head and held the feline close to him as he walked into his room to play with her, singing an unintelligible tune that wasn't exactly pleasant to the siamese' ears.

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Y/N was once again sweating nervously. She kept looking and shuffling the plate of macarons in the middle of the table. She specifically poked at the pink one, hoping it wouldn't fall apart or anything. She could hardly take a sip out of her own coffee as she waited for Mingi to get there. She was beginning to worry he wouldn't show up at all, but Yeosang promised to make sure he did. She took out her phone to text Yeosang, ask him if he succeeded or should she just think of something else.

"Y/N? Did you call me here?"

She fumbled with her phone that almost dropped out of her hands when she finally heard Mingi and saw him standing there in front of her.

"Uhm...yeah. Please sit."

She gestured for him to sit which he hesitantly did. He kept his glance on the table, not even looking at the drink or treats in front of him. Wanting to break the ice, Y/N shifted the cup and plates closer to him.

"Look. I got your favorites."

She hoped to get a reaction out of him, but nothing. He barely batted an eyelash at them.

"Oh.....thanks...." Still made no move to take anything.

Feeling impatient, Y/N shoved the plate of macarons closer, making it touch his hand.

"Mingi.....won't you please take one?"

He sighed in defeat, and as expected, he took the pink one.

"I appreciate your effort Y/N. You're a good friend. But don't you think your boyfriend might get jealous of you doing this? We all know how Seonghwa is with his possessions."

Y/N wanted to refute that statement right then and there, but instead, she chose to wait. Mingi took a bite out of the macaron, or at least attempted to but it felt oddly hard and weird. Examining it closely, he accidentally broke it apart in two pieces, and out came a tiny folded paper. Mingi looked at Y/N, who just pointed to the paper, her eyes urging him to open it. Mingi carefully unfolded the paper and his eyes went wide as he read the contents:

"I love you too♡"

Confused and wondering what it meant, he was going to ask Y/N about it, but she began explaining:

"That day.....that you saw me and Seonghwa..... I thought it was you who was standing behind me."

If they weren't sitting in a booth and had instead been at one of the tables with high chairs, Mingi would have seriously fallen out of it.

"That confession....was supposed to be for you.."

Mingi couldn't believe what he was hearing. He actually pinched himself to make sure it wasn't another beautiful delusion his mind was making up.

"Are.....are you serious?" He had to be sure.

Y/N nodded her head.

"Then....then why was Seonghwa kissing your cheek afterwards?"

Y/N giggled softly.

"That wasn't a kiss. He was just being the little shit he was and teasing me about you."

Now it all made sense. Seonghwa did enjoy teasing Y/N and that teasing was always followed by a pinch to her cheek, a squeezing of her nose, or even messing up her hair.

"So it was all a misunderstanding?" Mingi asked.

"Yeah. A rather big and painful one if you ask me." She added sadly.

Then Mingi's eyes shot up as he realized something.

"Wait! What do you mean you love me too?"

Now it was Y/N's turn to blush.

"Well...... Yeosang kinda showed me all the letters you wrote."

Mingi thought he was about to have a heart attack.

"Please tell me you didn't read them all."

When she bit her lip, Mingi grimaced and covered his face.

"How embarrassing. I want to die now."

"Well.....I thought they were really sweet and romantic. I loved every one of them."

Peeking out through his fingers, Mingi squeaked out an "Really?"

Y/N couldn't resist the urge to uncover his face and coo at him.

"Yes I did, almost as much as I love you."

Mingi blushed intensely at her words, both of them bursting out into little giggles.

"So that cake you made.......those words you said..... it is for me?" He looked at Y/N with hope in his eyes.

"It was always you Mingi."

Pouting, Mingi held out his pinkie.

"Promise?"

Linking her own pinkie in his, she promised:

"Promise it was you and it will always be you."

Mingi was happy once again now that everything was cleared up and he found out the girl he loved reciprocated his feelings. They left the cafe together, both shy and quiet as if they were a newlywed couple. Mingi kept glancing over at her, wanting to say something, but didn't know what. Unconsciously, he brushed his hand against hers.

"Sorry!" He apologized when she whipped her head at him.

"I swear! I wasn't trying to-"

His words got caught in his throat when she held his hand and continues walking as if it was totally normal. Mingi couldn't stop himself from smiling at their physical contact.

"So uhh..........when is it an acceptable time to have our first kiss?"

His question made her burst out laughing. He however didn't find it funny.

"I'm serious! I just want to know when it'll be an acceptable time to kiss my girlfriend!" He complained.

Stopping in their tracks, Y/N faced him.

"Ok you really wanna know?"

Mingi nodded. Feeling bold, Y/N got on her tippy toes and pecked his lips so quickly it took Mingi a couple seconds to register what happened. Y/N began running back away and laughing at his dumbfounded expression. Once he got over the shock, Mingi began sprinting over to her.

"Hey! No fair! Come back here! I wasn't ready! Let me kiss you properly!"

Having longer legs, he easily caught her and threw her over his shoulder.

"That was so mean." He huffed as he began walking again, not caring if people looked at them weird.

"Ok what can I do to make it up to you?" She offered.

Humming softly, Mingi answered:

"I want you to cuddle me while we watch movies."

Y/N shrugged.

"Done. It's a deal."

Not hiding the smug smile on his face, Mingi added:

"And I want to kiss you."

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[hms-no-fun]

do you ever deal with like... writers 8lock? how do you deal with that?

i do! quite often, in fact.

it's probably easy to look at the 30,000 words i've released in the last two weeks and think otherwise, but it's important to remember that i didn't release anything for a solid six months before this. when i finally got medicated again, the year i've spent thinking about this story while being mostly unable to get it on paper (for a multitude of reasons that can all be summarized with "it was 2020") just came flooding out of me. part of why i'm buckling down on this to the exclusion of almost everything else is because i know from experience that if i walk away for too long, all that energy will disappear and it'll be so much work to get it all back together again.

for me, writer's block is more of a math problem than anything. i was actually blocked on gf3 chapter 8 for a while because there are so many concurrent plot threads happening it's hard to keep them straight! i feel like half my job is just sitting here computing probabilities like a supercomputer that runs on pizza and filtered water.

a block can start anywhere. it can be "i don't know how to begin this story" or it can be "i don't know what should happen next" or "nothing i'm writing feels good." the blanket advice i would give for how to deal with a block is, of course, to keep writing anyway. you're never the best judge of the quality of your own work, especially when you're young. but i also know that this advice isn't really all that helpful, because i still get railroaded by blocks all the time. the difference is i've gotten pretty good at dealing with them in a timely manner.

i've described this feeling in other asks where i'll be writing a scene that's chugging along, and then something happens in the scene and suddenly i can't write anymore. the big example i always come back to is in gf2.2, when terezi lands on earth and tries to kill june. i originally ended that scene with terezi collapsing, june stealing her phone, and her and jade taking terezi to the hospital. and i actually sent that draft to a friend and she was like "this is great," but i wasn't convinced.

so i sat there for a bit and thought about what this story would look like if i followed that thread. did i really want to write a bunch of hospital scenes? did i really want to write an explicitly duplicitous june trying to cover up her actions? how would those things map onto the ideas i had for the future? and just from the shape of that story i could tell that, whether or not it was good in concept, the thought of writing it myself made me want to sleep for a thousand years.

and that's the thing, really. i think we railroad ourselves into scenes we don't want to write because they're the first thing we think of and we just kinda go with them. sometimes you just have to power through those scenes, but most of the time i've found that you can drop them in the trash or, at the very least, radically shift perspective in a way that makes them more interesting. writing is an expressive exercise and shouldn't feel like pulling teeth unless for whatever reason you feel like it has to. it's less about whether the writing is coming fast or slow and more about whether you think you're on the right track. and generally i've always been pretty good at telling if i'm on the right track. but like anything it's a skill that gets better with practice. hence: just write, damn it!

but then there are times like now, as i'm finishing up chapter 8.3.1, where i've just been staring at the damn thing for so long that i can no longer distinguish the good from the bad. that's why i brought other people on to check my corners. every time i write some clownshoes nonsense, i post snippets in our work server and ask if it's good. sometimes it is, sometimes it's on the right track but needs work, and sometimes it's totally off the mark. i like having people around me whose expertise in life as well as in homestuck specialty are different from my own.

a lot of times, working through a block is just a matter of talking it out. i've had SO many metaphysical conversations about godfeels deeplore that will probably never be made textually explicit, but they're important things for me to understand. often i find that a reason for a block has less to do with whether i know what is happening in a scene and more to do with whether i know why it's happening. because while writing i might have an idea like "ooh what if there's a spooky thing" and it fits in this esoteric sense. like i can tell that it's the right thing for this story. but now i've added a new wrinkle to the larger fabric of it all, and if i just keep writingwithout thinking about it i know i'll wind up regretting that choice later. so i compute probabilities and talk out concepts with my friends and throw out ideas and always always always when i'm open to other people's suggestions and drop all ego about "this is MY baby and I'M the auteur", we wind up coming up with some really truly excellent shit.

but sometimes a block is just a block. maybe you start a story and you don't like it. maybe your entire conception of the thing is just wrong, and you need to start from scratch but don't want to admit it. or maybe you're just tired!! i frequently try to push myself past my limits and i always wind up paying for it. my writing gets less coherent and i make a mess of parenthetical descriptions of [x character does y thing] and rushed, incomplete dialog that future me has to spend extra time just cleaning up.

it's easy to feel like, if you're upright and sentient then you have to write. but we aren't machines, and sometimes the energy just isn't there. maybe you can't focus enough, maybe the ideas are too spread apart. maybe you can only get a couple lines down. god knows that happens to me all the time! the solution, in my experience, is to just walk away.

there's a great bit in zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance by robert pirsig (which is genuinely one of my favorite philosophy books, surprising absolutely no one who knows its reputation) where he talks about having an engine problem in his motorcycle that he needs to fix, but there's a threaded screw holding the chassis in place keeping him from accessing the engine. he describes feeling FURIOUS, to the point of wanting to smash the whole fucking thing with a wrench. he describes being utterly, completely stuck, to the point that this screw is consuming his entire world. and he says:

"Stuckness shouldn't be avoided. It's the psychic predecessor of all real understanding. An egoless acceptance of stuckness is a key to an understanding of all Quality, in mechanical work as in other endeavors. ... Normally screws are so cheap and small and simple you think of them as unimportant. But now ... you realize that this one, individual, particular screw is neither cheap nor small nor unimportant. Right now this screw is worth exactly the selling price of the whole motorcycle, because the motorcycle is actually valueless until you get the screw out. With this re-evaluation of the screw comes a willingness to expand your knowledge of it."

art blocks, in my opinion, are no different. you can get stuck on the littlest things, especially when you're thinking big picture. it's easy to think that this one insignificant misunderstanding in the text can be ignored while you work on other parts, but it never works that way. at least for me. you have to be able to identify these little things that feel wrong, and treat them with the gravity and seriousness they demand. a quotidian hospital scene you barrel into automatically can be worth the entire wordcount of a work, because until you figure out why that scene feels wrong, you can't get any other work done.

and the solution, SO often, is to just walk away. go read a book, watch a show, go for a walk, smoke some weed, take a nap, eat food, whatever man pick your poison. let your brain passively process this thing in the background. during the day i write completely sober, and then at around 8 or 9pm when my comprehension really starts to fall and the doubts start creeping in, i step out and smoke some weed. obviously this isn't a solution everyone has access to, but it works for me! something about the way my thoughts spread out when i'm high makes it so much easier to process these vast pathways of information that i'm trying to funnel into a coherent narrative.

sometimes you realize the solution is to throw away 3000 words and take a different approach, like i did with 8.2. i should say, don't do this when you're just starting. you always always always end up rewriting the beginning of a story once you get a sense of how it builds and ends. the beginning in a first draft doesn't need to be good, it just has to get the ball rolling. but once you're in deep enough, you get a better sense of what works and what doesn't. and at that point you have to be egoless enough to know that even good prose can be the root cause of a block.

anyway, that's my advice. i hope that's helpful in some sense, but everyone's got their own approach and their own idea of what they're doing. this isn't meant to be blanket universal advice and shouldn't be taken as The True Way or whatever. it's just, like, my opinion, man.

[cherries11]

Bonus - WitW cut scenes and notes

So, as with most writers, I have a lot of cut scenes. Writing the The Woman in the Woods, my word count on cut scenes has reached 20k. Although that's probably inaccurate 'coz I ended up putting some of it back in, either parts of it or whole paragraphs. But for Chapter 12, there were two scenes that almost made it to the final version.

If you haven't read my fanfic and plan to, please don't read this because this spoils not only part 1 but part 2 as well. Here's the link in case you're interested.

Oh, and to those who plan to re-read the whole thing, you might notice minor changes. Some are corrections, some are lines I accidentally deleted or realize later on that I've forgotten to put in...

...such as why Sasha was holding out on moving in with Saul (they agreed not to do anything rash for six months).

Scene 1 - Right after they kiss

Because Saul's still not well (very, very low blood), he gets lightheaded and takes a second.

“Just breathe,” Sasha said.

“I have to tell you something.” His head leaning on the couch, he tilted his face toward her. “And you have to remember that I’m convalescing right now.”

The smile on her face disappeared. “What?”

He took another deep breath and blew it out through his mouth. “I… saw you naked.”

She smirked at that. “Yeah, right.”

“I did.”

She then frowned. “How could you have—” and then she gasped. “You were awake!”

“I didn’t see a lot. Just calves, and legs,” he was quick to point out. “And ass—but very, very briefly.”

Her jaw was still on the floor, unwilling to pick it up.

“Should I have not told you?”

It seemed she didn’t hear. “If you were awake, then you were aware that I dropped blood in your mouth.”

“I thought it was a dream.” She didn’t look convinced.

“How briefly, really, did you see?” Maybe he didn’t answer fast enough that she slapped his arm and repeated louder, “How briefly?”

He muttered an ouch even though it didn’t hurt. “Like a second. Half a second!”

Sky then comes in the house and calls for "Maja". After Sasha responds with "Out here" this happens.

Then to him, she tilted her head. “A second, huh. Well, we can make it longer the next time.”

He was beaming at her when Sky emerged from the backdoor, who was visibly surprised at finding him there.

I ended up taking this scene out because, when I re-read it, it dragged the scene--the kiss was already a happy ending, though I really wanted to address her getting naked and Saul seeing that.

Scene 2 (Epilogue) - Farah's visit

One of the ideas I have for ending the story was for Sasha to say something like, "I think I'll open a school" (for witches). So the first draft of the epilogue begins with her jittery because she's about to give a two-hour lecture (which should culminate with her having confidence enough to maybe open a school). But as I was writing that, I realized that she's right to be jittery because she's declaring herself a blood witch, and the scope of what that would mean, standing there and doing that, I had to rethink because I was hoping the epilogue was just 1k and should just be light and fluffy. So, I thought it might be better if the lecture was just an idea she contemplates doing. Scene below is when Farah visits.

“What is it about? Should I be concerned?” Saul asked.

“No,” the fairy said, though she seemed to reconsider. Then, “No, I don’t think so.”

Saul frowned at her, just as Sasha came down.

“Oh, hi Farah,” she said while slinging on her backpack.

“I’m glad I caught you,” she eyed Saul, silently indicating that it was a private conversation. But he was unwilling to leave.

“Saul,” Sasha said, giving him a nudge to the ribs. “Come on, hun.”

The two women then sat on the living room while Saul made himself scarce by the kitchen, doing his best to overhear the conversation.

“I just have an idea I wanna run by you,” Farah began. “What do you think about giving a lecture, just two hours or longer if you like, about red witches.”

Sasha didn't expect this at all. Hearing this turned something inside of her dead cold with fear, just the idea of standing in front of a roomful of strangers and declaring that she was a blood witch. The last time she did that, her kind was wiped out.

Maybe reading where her thoughts went, Farah said, “You don’t have to say that you’re one. We can just say that you’re an expert on the subject. You’ve studied it all your life, their ways, their customs."

She was already shaking her head, seeing how this would be taken—what were her credentials? Her history? When the students go home, would they tell their parents about the “expert” who spoke so personally about these witches, and would they then hound the school for this lecturer? Also, what would it do to the school?

“I think it’s a bad idea, Farah.”

“I think it’s important that our students get informed as much as they could, especially about subjects where the common knowledge is just utterly wrong.”

Sasha blew out a nervous breath. Her hands had gone clammy and it was because this was the very thing that made doing it so tempting. But the repercussions attached to it, was it worth it? Would Alfea even be able to stand it? What if it destroyed the school?

She looked at the kitchen and, almost immediately, caught Saul’s eye. He had heard everything.

“Just think about it,” Farah placed a hand on top of hers.

She looked at it and just nodded.

“I do have a question,” she said just as Farah retreated her hand. “Have you found out what Rosalind meant? When she said my kind endanger this world?”

But the woman only shook her head.

When she left, Saul was back in the living room with Sasha still sitting on the couch.

“You should do it.”

Sasha chewed her lips and looked up at him, but didn’t say anything.

Then in the airport, the scene is the same as in the final version, but as they say goodbye, Saul mentions the lecture again and she just says she'll think about it. I stopped there, had a break, and was about to write the closing paragraphs but it just didn't sit well with me. I thought that even if it's something that's left hanging, something that a reader could decide on, the story still doesn't end with my original plan of her wanting to open a witch school. Also, even if it's left hanging, story-wise, the logical conclusion is that she does it because that's the brave thing to do. But doing it could legitimately put her in jeopardy and might actually destroy Alfea (I could imagine angry parents complaining about it, which includes royalty, and shutting down the school). It's an epilogue, and even if I'm not covering that part of the story, I didn't want it to be the last thing a reader thinks about.

So, I ended up cutting it all out and changing the purpose of Farah's visit. I thought it worked out much better because the epilogue should just focus on Saul and Sasha, and also hint that Saul has a better, more honest relationship with Sky.

Notes

I tend to not write any of my ideas down (I do that by writing the story already). But whenever I have a problem with a story, instead of using a digital notepad, I actually use pen and paper and write all of the questions I need answered and put in all answers I could think of (and why that won't work). I was doing that today for this other thing I'm writing (it's not a fanfic, sadly, but my main character is based off RJC), and found my notes from writing Part 2 of WitW. Since I'm making this post, thought it would be fun to include it too.

These were made after writing Ch 6. Yes, my handwriting is terrible. I think only I can read them. But if you're able to read them, then you must be a nurse (to those who aren't, nurses' handwriting aren't bad, but they read doctor's notes all the time). I was at this for a couple of hours. I think ch 7, 8, 9 are on point to what I ended up writing. Some changes in Ch 10, but epilogue is totally different.

tagging @astrid-v​, and thought you might be interested reading this too @kingunder221b​

[xeunoais]

I Hate You

(A/N: i know this probably sucks but its been sitting in my drafts for months now and i just wanted something to do with it besides delete it yk?? so anyways i hope you enjoy this little angst & this gif has nothing to do with this but i love kensi and deeks more than i can even explain!!)

Summary: You and Shawn have known each other since high school. And you just recently started dating and are now at a rocky point in your relationship and its only so long before you reach your breaking point. But what’s Shawn going to do when you finally do break and there is no way for him to fix it anymore.

-

-

It's only been six months. How does a relationship fall apart in just six months?

Shawn and I have only been dating for six months and it's been a living hell. I think we just weren't meant to be together and rushed into this relationship too fast.

We have been friends since high school so we both just dived straight into the deep end and rushed into this whole thing way too fast. Now its biting me in the ass.

I know that this works for some people but just not us. It's been hard and just last night we started fighting. I had called him over to hangout tonight to see if we can try and work things out or watch a movie or do something that doesn't include fighting.

When he arrived the first ten minutes seemed to go fine until we put in a movie that he suddenly didn't wanna watch.

"Shawn, you picked the movie, how did you change your mind in five seconds?" I asked confused.

"I didn't. all I said was I didn't wanna watch this." He rolled his eyes.

I sighed knowing another fight is coming which I'm not ready for. This is getting so old so fast.

"Do I bore you?" He asked annoyed.

"What? Who said anything about that?" I asked.

"You sighed like you were bored with me! Just admit it Y/n you don't wanna be with me." He glared angrily at me.

"Maybe I don't." I let out even though I didn't mean it. Or at least I thought I didn’t. It sort of just slipped but before I could take it back he said something that may not seem like big deal but it really hurt me. It hurt a lot.

"I hate you." He said. He said it with nothing but anger and hate in his eyes. I couldn't see anything else, not an ounce of regret or pain just hatred.

It's almost as if he meant it, and I think he really did. I had to look away because if I continued to stare at him then my entire heart would just shatter and I'd break down.

I felt the tears building up but I wouldn't let myself cry, not in front of him anyway. As soon as I started to look back at him I heard the door slam shut.

I looked to see that he left without a single word or anything. It caused my heart to ache and finally tears rolled down my cheeks. He meant everything he said and just left me like I mean nothing.

I don't deserve that or the pain he put me in. I don't care how it's done but we need to breakup or something needs to change.

I'm not going to stay with him or in a toxic relationship when I know I deserve better than that.

-

*Shawn’s POV*

-

After leaving her apartment I sat in my car debating on whether I should go back in or not. I really shouldn't have walked out like that but all we do is fight and it's just so old.

I love her a lot and want to make things work. I also know that we can't make anything work without trying.

Day by day I feel like this relationship is only growing more and more toxic. Maybe we shouldn't be together and all of this is just a sign telling us to end things.

It's not something I want to do and it definitely makes me hurts me more than I want it to. Soon enough I drowned myself in my own thoughts and fell asleep.

I stood outside her door for a moment and before I started to knock I heard sniffles. My heart completely sank hearing her cry and I opened the door to find her sitting on the couch with her head in her hands.

I made my way over to her and sat down before wrapping her in my arms and holding her tightly. She didn't pull away or hesitate to hug me back and we stayed like that for a while. I let her cry into my chest knowing this is my fault and I'm going to fix it.

I shouldn't have gotten so upset over a movie and left her like that. It was a petty thing for me to do and I regret it. Everything I said to her like ‘I hate you’ makes my heart ache. I never meant that and will never mean it.

I could never hate her even if I wanted to. She's the most important person in my life and I care for her more than I do myself.

"Please don't hate me Shawn." She cried. I slowly pulled her away to make her look me in the eyes. Her wet warty eyes looked into mine and it pained me.

"Never Y/n. I didn't mean what I said to you and I couldn't ever hate you. Okay I..." I paused feeling my heart warm.

"I love you." Her saddened face lit up and she smiled. I haven't told her those three words yet, until now. Now that I've said them I feel amazing and like I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have her be mine.

"I love you too Shawn." She smiled as she cupped my cheeks in her hands and pulled me in for a soft but loving kiss. I happily kissed her back enjoying every second of it.

When we pulled away I hugged her and held her in my arms for however long I could.

"I'm so lucky to have you." I whispered as I ran my fingers through her hair.

A knock at my door made me shoot up from my spot on my couch. I looked around the apartment, looking for Y/n. Then it hit me, I was dreaming.

I got up to answer the door and when I opened it I saw her. She was standing there in her own hoodies, sweats, and a beanie that she stole from Brian when we were in high school.

And in her arms was the box, I scanned over her appearance. She looked so broken. Her eyes puffy, cheeks stained and red from the tears. She was hurting and it was my fault.

“I just came to uhh give you this. I would’ve left it outside your door but I didn’t want it to get taken.” She mumbled before pushing the box of my stuff into my arms.

“Y/n, baby-“ I started but was quickly cut off by her.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. You don’t have a right to call me that anymore. You hate me remember.” She tried to fight back the tears but at that last sentence she broke.

Before I could even react her back was facing me and she was walking away.

I just fucked up the only thing I had good left in the world and there was nothing I could do about it. I can’t fix this.

-

The End

(A/N: i know this was short but i still hope you enjoyed this and remember, feedback is highly appreciated!!)