#i love making aus and stories but creative writing has never been my strong suit

[mothsakura]

exhibiting roadkill behavior rn (i cannot keep writing because i have plotholes to fix, i cannot fix plotholes because i cannot keep writing, i cannot draw because i want to fix plotholes and therefor cannot draw before they are fixed. i have nothing to post. i DO have something to post but that requires for me to write out the RC au lore first as it will make more sense with context.)

[roseharpermaxwell]

Bite-Size Dramione - Under 5k (Part One)

These are your bedtime stories, your palate cleansers, your individual serving sizes of serotonin. It’s okay to enjoy these even if you only read slow burn 100k+ fics, I promise. Live a little! 

This is a sampling of some amazing favorites, but I’m always reading new things and will add to it regularly. If you find something you love, I know the author would love to hear it, and so would I! Take a deep dive into their catalog to find other gems. 

Part One below:

Only Dancing by @sunflower-swan. NR, 378 words. Hermione is only dancing. No harm in that. Draco can get jealous or go with it.

Give and Take by @ambpersand. E, 1k. The softness of her curls brush against his thighs, and Draco has just enough slack to widen his knees to get closer to her. She’s everywhere, and it’s still not enough. He needs her to consume him whole. 

Indulge Me by @millennialgrandma. M, 1k. A little eighth year Veritaserum-fueled confession of feelings.

First Kiss(es) and the Path to Forgiveness by millennialgrandma. T, 1.2k. Returning to Hogwarts for an eighth year felt like penance. Kissing Hermione Granger felt like redemption.

You’re Older Now by @simplifiedemotions. T, 1.2k. “I don’t know how to do this,” he says, his breath coming out in harsh gasps. The only time Hermione remembers him being so harried was when she’d first woken up with no recollection of even her own name. She distinctly remembers his blood-shot gaze, the trembling of his limbs, when he asked her if she had remembered him.

Tentative Exporations by @dreamsofdramione. E, 1.2k. What Draco lacks in finesse he makes up for in enthusiasm. 

a cure for headaches by @whimsymanaged. E, 1.3k. Hermione has a headache. Draco has a suggestion. (Hint: It's not a pain potion.)

Some things, however by @frumpologist. T, 1.3k. Officer Granger is annoyed with Commander Draco and finds solace in the ship’s library.

A Full and Careful Analysis by @eveningstruggle. M, 1.3k. “Truth or dare.” Hermione traced her fingers over Draco’s chest, trying to match the pattern he was tracing on her back. “Dare. Wait—no. I need a refractory period first. Truth.” “Hmm…what’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” “That's too easy; it was four minutes ago.” or: Draco and Hermione talk about their past romantic history.

This Singular Night by @misdemeanor1331. T, 1.4k. On their last night in Las Vegas, Hermione asks Draco an unexpected question. He gives her an equally surprising answer.

Love of My Life by @mykesprit. T, 1.5k. A surprising revelation at their anniversary party sends Hermione reeling.

Round and Fluffy by @caitybellfics. M, 1.5k. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter arrive at the DMLE to retrieve their spouses.

Jealous by dreamsofdramione and @inadaze22. E, 1.6k. Draco isn't possessive. In order to be possessive, one has to have some sort of attachment to another person. There is no such ‘attachment’ to Granger. Sure, he knows the precise way to move his tongue inside of her to make her moan, the shape of her hip under his palm when he fucks her so hard they both see stars, and the exact pitch of her voice when she comes, but he’s not attached to her. This is the lie he tells himself.

Write What You Know by @pacific-rimbaud. T, 1.7k. Prompt: Muggle University Student AU: studying Classics or MFA Creative writing

Counting Days by dreamsofdramione. E, 1.7k. Arithmancy was never Draco's strong suit.

What Was Lost, and What Remains by PacificRimbaud. G, 1.8k. My name is Monica Joan Wilkins. I am 57 years old. I live in Sydney, New South Wales. I share a dental practice with my husband. We've been married for thirty-two years.

What To Do by @willhavetheirtrinkets. E, 1.8k. "I can," she said, smirking at him. "I have that authority. Since you're always going at it quick and hurried, without the slightest attention to detail, I've been given the authority to make certain it's done properly."

Draco ground his teeth. "You can't tell me what to do, Granger."

You Owe Me by musyc. M, 1.8k. Hermione has an anniversary plan.  

Mutually Assured Destruction… by @grangerdangerfics. T, 1.9k. As Head Girl Hermione Granger and Head Boy Draco Malfoy wage an escalating war of aggressive acts of kindness, will it spell ruin ... or romance?

Upper Body Injury by @provocative-envy. T, 1.9k. Hockey AU! "Careful," he says dryly. "Or I might think you're trying to flirt with me."  "Oh, you'd know if I was trying to flirt with you."

"Maybe," he concedes, flicking his hair back with a practiced nod of his head. "But would you?"

Coming in for Landing by @sunlightdaydream. E, 2k. Draco loved flying when Hermione worked. She truly was the best flight attendant he knew. She followed directions to the tee on most days, but even better when she's on her knees before him. Or: It's cockpit porn and he is the pilot.

Inventory of Moments by optimise. T, 2k. Hermione makes a lot of lists. And a list of names just happens to be one of them.

My Brown-Eyed Girl by PacificRimbaud. M, 2.1k. Draco and Hermione have a lazy snuggle in the grass behind the Quidditch pitch.

The Dumbing Down of Love by inadaze22. T, 2.1k. Hermione is an expert at foiling Draco's plans.

Never Have I Ever by @niffizzle. M, 2.1k. With a bottle of firewhisky, a set of enchanted cups, and a game of Never Have I Ever, things turn interesting during one of the final days leading up to graduation. But just how much will be divulged? Maybe some things should stay private.

Two Full Inches Above Regulation Length by granger_danger. E, 2.1k. “Granger.” Malfoy’s voice was an ember in the dark corridor. He grasped her wrist and she almost dropped her jar of bluebell flames. “Your skirt’s not to the bottom of your knees. I may have to take points from Gryffindor.”

A Whole New World by simplifiedemotions. T, 2.2k. Draco takes Hermione out flying.

Passing Notes by @sodamnradd. T, 2.3k. D: Pay you 10 galleons to cover patrol tonight  H: STOP throwing notes at me ferret. And no.  D: 50 galleons?  and so ensues a term of note-passing between Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

A Pretty Picture by @wickermayne. E, 2.3k. Draco wakes up with Hermione between his legs. Like a good boyfriend, he helps quench her thirst.

hands to myself by whimsymanaged. E, 2.4k. Every Friday night, Hermione goes to her favourite bar with her friends. One of the reasons this bar is her favourite is because she inevitably runs into Draco Malfoy. Tonight, all their flirting comes to a head.

Sucker 4 U by whimsymanaged. E, 2.4k. “You can’t just…casually talk about watching porn,” Hermione hissed, glancing around. “Why not?” Draco raised his eyebrows. “I’ve just discovered it, and I want to tell the world. Anyway, I saw a clit sucker in one of the videos, and I got to wondering how on Earth a contraption like that could feel like someone sucking your clit.”

This Time Tomorrow by sodamnrad. M, 2.5k. On the last night of school, Draco's unchecked feelings for Granger spill through the cracks.

A Different Kind of Magic by @canttouchthis87. T, 2.5k. Draco Malfoy watched Hermione Granger practice her Viola for six years. Returning to Hogwarts after the war, her music offers them both a place of freedom and sanctuary.

Shifting Perspectives by misdemeanor1331. E, 2.5k. Being a woman in a male-dominated profession is hard; being a woman and below average height is even harder.

Passing Notes by @shamione. E, 2.6k. Draco Malfoy has teased Hermione Granger for the last time, tucked away in an alcove with his fingers buried deep inside her. 

Lessons in Darkened Rooms by @raven-m-3. E, 2.6k. Draco Malfoy's eighth year at Hogwarts should have been simple, if unpleasant. Instead he finds himself grappling with a Granger-shaped problem.

A Thousand Ways to Say Sorry by @wordswithways. T, 2.6k. Draco Malfoy goes on a gift-giving apology tour. But a crucial person on his list wants nothing to do with it.

How to Break a Curse by whimsymanaged. E, 2.7k. They only had a small window before the curse took effect. “Run me through it.” Granger swallowed. “We have thirty minutes to have sex that ends with you coming inside me.” Draco clenched his jaw so tightly that it cracked. “What are our other options?” She didn’t sugarcoat it. “Death.”

Caught Wet-Handed by millennialgrandma. E, 2.8k. “Did we not agree, sweetheart, that we wouldn’t?” “Yes, Draco, which is why-” “And were you not the one who suggested, no, insisted, we abstain until the wedding night?”

Draco’s Consolation Prize by emilyinwonderland. E, 2.8k. Head Girl Hermione Granger comforts a moody Slytherin Quidditch Captain.

Feeling This by @echoofpromise. E, 2.8k. The one where Hermione elbows Draco in the nose at a rock show and he likes it

Just Desserts by @thelashjedi. M, 2.8k. Why would you talk to me?  Draco thought, behind a heavy wall of occlusion as he politely, but rotely declined the Head Girl’s offer to join her in the Great Hall, at the newly mixed tables set up in the wake of the war. 

Two Dry Martinis by @darkofthemoonfic. E, 2.9k. “You’re brilliant,” he said, flashing those teeth again. “What did I do before you arrived? And what else might you teach me?” Hermione knew she was blushing so she took another sip of her drink. The gin crisp and just the slightest hint of vermouth — how she liked it. When she flicked her eyes back to the bartender he was watching her. “A fair number of things, I’d expect.”

Pin-Up by whimsymanaged. E, 2.9k. Hermione needs to raise funds for her non-profit. Putting together a calendar of naked Quidditch players seems as good a way as any.

Severn Way by @magicaltraveler3. E, 3k. Hermione didn’t know it but they weren’t going home. They were going to a log cabin far away from anyone that could bother them.

Taste of Affection by dreamsofdramione. E, 3.1k. “You’re doing so well, Pet.”

Savour by @mignon-chignon. E, 3.1k. Draco Malfoy had a dinner to savour, hopefully without any distractions.

Overtime by @scullymurphy. E, 3.2k. Draco and Hermione are working overtime. It's late, they've gotten into the whisky and Hermione's self-control is at an all-time low -- especially once Draco starts rolling his sleeves.

Triple Axel by @batmansymbol. G, 3.2k. “As I’ve said ten thousand times, Malfoy,” she says, unbuckling her helmet, still breathing hard, “you wouldn’t last a second in speed skating.” She tugs the helmet off and her hair springs free. She shakes it back with supreme disdain. “You know what, though? I’m starting to think I’d like to see you try.”

Deal by @its-banannaz. E, 3.3k. It was all a stupid deal, and why she made a deal with Draco Malfoy of all people? She had absolutely no idea. Suffice to say, she lost the game.

Good Girls Get to Sit on Santa's Lap by whimsymanaged. E, 3.3k. On a huge, plush red armchair that the Sigmas must have borrowed (they’re usually green and silver everything) sits a guy dressed as Santa Claus.

Well. He’s got the velvety red pants and the red coat, only the coat is open to reveal a hard, muscular, bare torso, and his Santa hat sits askew atop a pale blond fade.

Just Like the Ones I Used to Know by @acciomjolnir. T, 3.4k. It's 8th year, post war, and Hermione isn't feeling in the Christmas spirit. She's not the only one who has chosen not to go home for the holidays... and when they get into the eggnog, all kinds of things happen.

It’s Draco fucking Malfoy, bane of my existence.

*and it's followup: No Regrets for the New Year. E, 2.7k.

Where You Belong by @ecaworks, raven_maiden. E, 3.4k. When Draco Malfoy shows up at the Burrow over the holidays, Hermione learns she has a decision to make.

Third Time’s a Charm by @monsterleadmehome. E, 3.4k. Head Girl Hermione Granger has been hopelessly trying to seduce Head Boy Draco Malfoy all term, but he just won't get the hint. 

Long story short (it was a bad time) by @ginnysocks. E, 3.4k. Were she and Draco currently shagging like rabbits every chance they got? Yes. Did they still utterly loathe each other? Also yes.

Flat(Mates) by WhimsyManaged. E, 3.4k. Hermione and Draco have been living together as platonic flatmates for years now. Neither have presented, so Hermione’s pretty sure they’re both betas. (Spoiler: they're not betas.)

Respite by canttouchthis. T, 3.5k. Hermione Granger is fine. Or at least there’s no reason for her not to be. But still, she finds respite under the stars, drawn to the night sky.

Mutually Assured Destruction by witchsoup. M, 3.5k. Hermione and Theo find ways to break it to each other gently... it's time to break up.

Continued in Part Two!

Give the authors some love! I also adore hearing if you found a new favorite fic or author.

I’ll be regularly adding to this, so if you’re seeing this as a reblog, feel free to check my Master List of Recommendations for the most current list. Lots of new tumblr users as well, so if you see yourself and you’re not tagged, let me know!

[acacia-may]

Hi Acacia! 14 and 24 for the writing game pls

Hello hello, friend! I'm always so excited to see you in my inbox, and I hope you are doing wonderfully! 😊

Thank you so much for your ask and for playing the writing excerpt ask game. I'd be happy to answer these for you and will be sure to choose excerpts from my OMORI stories since it's our shared fandom (and I'm really going to try very hard to get creative and not choose any Kelbrey excerpts for you too though there are several that fit both of these categories)! ^^

Everything is under the cut because of MAJOR OMORI spoilers! One snippet has its own set of additional warnings so please be mindful of that as well.

14. An excerpt of my writing that was out of my comfort zone

Do you mean any time I try to write romance ever? Because goodness that makes me so nervous and stressed out! I've been trying to practice a little by writing about ships I feel very passionately about and/or really, really like, but even then, it's a major struggle for me and I feel like it ends up leaning very ambiguous (i.e. it could be romantic or it could be platonic. The readers can choose their own adventure!) or blending into a background of several other plotlines going on. Sitting down to write a purely romance story is just not my thing, and I honestly don't think it's my strong suit. Therefore, for the sake of honesty, I feel compelled to give a major shoutout to "There Is Happiness" (which is about functional post-bad ending Kelbrey, sorry) because it was an entire story outside of my comfort zone but especially the dancing sequence. I still can't believe I wrote that (which I guess fits your other question too lol), but I won't subject you to an excerpt of that, friend! Instead here's some swoony HeroMari from my college, everyone lives AU one shot "Some Things Are Meant To Be":

Mari sighed. The truth was she was glad she had to stop at this point on the tour because she likely would have stopped anyway—too stunned by the swooning, swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach whenever a particular culinary arts student smiled. She had never spoken to him before—had never had the opportunity to properly introduce herself, but she supposed that might be for the best. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d even be able to muddle her way through a coherent introduction if they did have the chance to meet. After all, on the few occasions he had met her eyes through the glass, staring at her with such gentleness that she could have sworn her heart had skipped a beat, her mind had completely emptied and she couldn’t even think of the tour script her roommate often, somewhat playfully, accused her of reciting in her sleep. Knowing herself, she’d probably forget her own name if he so much as said “hello” to her, so they’d both likely graduate before they got to share anything more than a few somewhat shy waves at each other whenever she passed by his class on her tours. Halfway through her little speech about the state of the art kitchen equipment they had available to students, Mari reached the line she both adored and dreaded which prompted the tour group to look through the window to see the future chefs of the world cooking and baking. When Mari turned to glance into the classroom herself, she somehow always managed to find him immediately in the crowd. Today was no different. Just as he was taking what appeared to be a souffle out of the oven, he happened to turn at the exact moment she did. Their eyes met. Time stopped. Mari’s heart raced. He smiled, and her heart ached. All of her thoughts disappeared, except one: Oh… He was beautiful.   That was not in her tour script.

And also, just for you, I'll include this excerpt of Hero admitting he's ready to find love again a decade after the good-ending from the final chapter of "But I Always Thought That I'd See You Again" (which is Aubrey and Hero's platonic friendship centric even though it also includes some background Kelbrey). I'm including it because it was another story out of my comfort zone, especially this particular scene (and I did a ton of research for it) and because I purposely wrote the story in such a way that the identity of Hero's love interest could be anybody you wanted who fit the ambiguous descriptors (I'm really sharing because I hope it'll resolve that "I need Hero and Zoey to realize their feelings" sentiment you mentioned in your comment on "Under the Weather" or maybe just add more Hero/Brandi to the world. It's written in such a way he could be talking about either of them or neither...choose your own adventure!)

“I think you’re a much stronger person than me, Hero. If someone deserves to be broken up about it, it’s you, and you should take as much time as you need. No one would blame you if you just…never moved on.”  Hero took a long, shaky breath then pressed his lips together. “That’s…that’s the thing, Aubrey. I…” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. He stared intently at his hands—twisting them together, refusing to look at her. It was almost like he couldn’t. “I had actually been thinking…”—he swallowed hard—“That is I…I actually wondered if maybe…I might be…ready…to...um...”  Aubrey tried her best to stifle a gasp. Of all the things she could’ve expected…she would have never even entertained this as a possibility. Hero had never expressed any interest in pursuing a relationship with anyone after Mari. They all respected it and never pried, just quietly resigned themselves to the fact that Hero might never love again, so to hear that he was actually, seriously considering moving on... She just couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at her mouth as her eyes started to grow misty. “Really?” Hero blushed, and Aubrey’s breath caught in her throat. The expression on his face was so flustered but so warm, so affectionate—she never thought she’d ever see him make that face again. “Yeah…uh…I was actually…kind of thinking that I might ask someone out.” Aubrey’s jaw fell slack. Here she had been worried that Hero was listening to sad music and still pining after Mari when actually he was thinking about moving on. A flabbergasted but excited chuckle escaped her lips, and she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him—center console be damned. “Hero, that’s wonderful! I…you have no idea how excited everyone is going to be to hear that, especially Kel.” “Just…Just for coffee…” he stumbled quickly, awkwardly patting her on the back. “Nothing too big or dramatic or anything…” “This is big, Hero,” said Aubrey pulling away from him with a wide, bright smile. “You…you’ve met someone…” It wasn’t really a question.   His blush deepened. “I think it’s more like I finally saw someone who had been there for a long time.” “So it’s someone you know well?” Aubrey repeated wracking her brain trying to think of Hero’s closest friends and who this could possibly be. She supposed it was really none of her business, but she was curious. Hero nodded and hummed. “For a long time. We became close friends in college and we’re in this wedding together now so we’ve been seeing a lot of each other and…I guess I’ve just been thinking…realizing that…when I’m with her, I—I don’t know, Aubrey—I…feel things that I didn’t know I could feel anymore…” His voice trailed—quiet, distant as if he had forgotten himself, but his cheeks flushed a bright red. Aubrey’s eyes widened, but she could only blink at him in shock. Was Hero…? Was he really… in love? The question felt somewhat silly and juvenile, especially seeing as he had never even been on a date with this woman, but…Aubrey couldn’t help but wonder. There was something so incredibly gentle and sincere in his face—something so warm and wistful, almost pining in his dark eyes as he sighed with a certain love-struck helplessness that Aubrey honestly didn’t think she would ever see from him again. “Honestly,” he shyly admitted. “I…I think I’ve felt this way for a long time but…I just…wasn’t ready to see it.”

24. An excerpt of my writing that makes me go "huh...i wrote that?!"

In a good way or a bad way? 😅😂 If it's in a really good "I can't believe that I was capable of writing this" kind of way, then I think pretty much all of 2AM would fit in that category. I wrote that fic for a request, and it recounts how Hero, Kel, and Aubrey discovered and reacted to the aftermath of Sunny and Basil's fight on the night of One Day Left. It's another story that was completely out of my comfort zone because it was so heavy and dark (definitely not one I would have ever thought to write on my own), but I'm very proud of it so here's a snippet.

(Warnings for Injuries (Non-graphically depicted), Blood, Aftermath of Canon-Typical Violence (Non-graphically depicted). Fear. Emotional Hurt. Heavy and Dark Themes and Subject Matter. Heavy ANGST. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR OMORI)

“Hero, help Sunny!” He managed to catch Polly’s instructions amidst the chaos and dropped to his knees beside Sunny’s crumpled figure. With trembling fingers, he grabbed Sunny’s wrist—limp and clammy—desperately searching for a pulse. His chest ached as he found one—weak but still beating. Hero swallowed hard—watching the blood seep between his fingers as they held Sunny’s wrist. He searched for injuries. Where had Sunny been cut? His hands and arms seemed clear of wounds, so he must have used to them to try to stop the bleeding wherever he had been… Hero stopped abruptly. He finally saw it.  That gash across Sunny’s right eye. Frantically, he wracked his brain for his emergency first aid training. It was empty—useless in an actual crisis. His instructor’s words were garbled in his memories, almost as if she had been speaking underwater. Triage. Assess. Predict. Respond. And… Hero’s head whirled. He couldn’t remember and was too distracted by the sound of something clattering to the floor. Basil had finally dropped the weapon in his hands. He fell to his knees—caught by Polly and Kel. A pair of bloodied pruning sheers skid along the floor leaving streaks of red on the wood grain. Basil screamed again, but Hero’s vision blurred—blinded by the sudden burst of overhead light as Aubrey returned and flipped the switch. but she stopped, frozen in the doorway as she caught sight of Sunny on the ground. Hero blinked rapidly, but as his vision came into focus, bile burned the back of his throat. That slash across Sunny’s eye—deep and bloody in the light. Hero’s head ached. Jumbled memories playing in rapid succession. A diagram in an Anatomy and Physiology textbook. His professor holding up a model of the eye. The distant, garbled words: corneal laceration… Most serious of all eye injuries… High Risk…Permanent loss of vision… Hero’s stomach churned. As a streak of red trickled across Sunny’s cheek, he leaned forward with trembling hands, frantically searching for something to use as a compress to stop the bleeding. But he stopped himself. Hearing the warning as clear as day: Never, ever put pressure on a cut to the eye.

If it's in a "Why the hell did I write this?" kind of way literally anything from Safety Net (No, I'm not linking it. I didn't even put it on Tumblr because I have nothing to say for myself...) If it's more in a "I can't believe I wrote this, but I think it's okay(?)" kind of way, there is this incredibly mushy excerpt from my HeroMari fic "More Than Words":

Mari was his best friend, but even that title wasn’t enough for everything she meant to him. She was someone he could always rely on—someone he could talk to for hours until he completely lost track of the time. Someone he could share anything with—who he wanted to share everything with. She knew him better than anyone else—knew he wasn’t as perfect as everyone seemed to think and knew how hard he tried to be, but she still believed in him—saw something in him that he couldn’t even see in himself. She was the kindest person he had ever known and so beautiful that his soul ached whenever he looked at her. He cared for her more than he had the words in his young and inexperienced fifteen-year-old mind to express or really to even fully understand. All he knew was that he had never been happier than when she smiled at him—so bright and warm that he would have sworn the sun shined brighter. He couldn’t imagine a world without her in it, and he would give her the world in an instant if he could—would give anything to make her happy, to protect her, to care for her, and to in some small way repay her for being part of his life. But all she ever asked for was his friendship which he readily offered with as much loyalty and devotion as he could manage. Somehow even after all this time, she had never asked for his heart. Hero sometimes wondered if it was because they were still so young and she knew she had all the time in the world to ask for it. Perhaps she was waiting for the day he would be older and wouldn’t get so sheepish or tongue-tied whenever he tried to express his feelings. If Hero was being honest, he was looking forward to that day too…but he supposed it was more likely that Mari had never asked him for his heart because she knew she didn’t need to ask. It had always belonged to her. He knew Mari knew that. She had to know that. What he couldn’t say in words he practically screamed with offers to help with her chores or errands, with late night study sessions for the exams she stressed over or with hours spent cooking her favorite foods for her and carefully packing them into a basket for a picnic that, Hero was sorry to say, had just gotten rained out.

That was a lot of ramblings... Sorry about that. Thanks again for the ask. I hope you'll enjoy these snippets! Cheers! 💕

[highsviolets]

INTERVIEW NO. 1: RACHEL @djarinsbeskar

hello hello! i am so happy to announce that rachel — aka the immense talent that is @djarinsbeskar — has agreed to be my first interviewee for this new series! thank you to rach and to each one of you for all of your support. to read more about the project, click here, and to submit an author, click here.

| why rachel? |

Rachel captured my imagination from the first time we interacted as mutuals-in-law. She’s bursting with energy and vivaciousness, with a current of kindness just underneath everything she does. Her work is no exception. Oftentimes gritty, raw, and exposing (in … ahem…more ways than one), Rachel challenges her readers to dig deeper into both the story and themselves. Her smut brings a particular fire as it’s laced with need, desire, and mutual trust that leads us deeper into the characters’ identities and how physical affection can mimic other forms of intimacy. She’s a tour de force in this fandom and an absolute joy.

| known for |

Engaging with and encouraging other authors, cultivating inspo posts, attention to world building & character development

| my favorites |

Stitches

Boxer!Din

Full Masterlist • Ko-Fi

| q & a |

When did you start writing? What was that project, and what was it like? Has that feeling or process ever changed over time? Why?

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t writing. I was an avid reader, as I think most writers are—and I remember, after picking up Lord of the Rings—that I could live so many lives, experience so many things, all from the pages of a book. I could make sense of the world through words and ink and paper. And it offered me a level of peace and clarity I wanted to share with others. So, I started writing.

My first project I remember to this day, was a short story about a dog. I had been so heartbroken when I learned that dogs were colourblind. I must have been about seven or eight at the time, and I was fixated on this idea that dogs couldn’t see the vibrant hues that made the world beautiful. It was something I wanted to change—and with all the righteous anger of a child not getting their own way, I sulked over the fact that I couldn’t. Until I wrote it down.

“How do dogs see colour?”

And much like my writing today, I answered myself.

“Dogs don’t need to see colour. Dogs smell colour.”

And so, I wrote a story, about a puppy being brought on different walks by its owner. And with every new street it walked down—colour bloomed with scent. Colours more beautiful and vibrant than we could ever hope to see with our eyes. And it gave me solace and helped me work through an emotion that – granted was immature and inconsequential – had affected me. To this day, I still smile seeing dogs sniffing at everything they pass on their walks. Smelling colour. It gave me the key to my favourite thing in life. I don’t think my process has changed much since then. Much of what I write is based on a skeleton plan, but I leave room for characters to speak and feel as they need to. I like to know the starting point and destination of a chapter—but how they get there, that still falls to instinct. I think I’ve found a happy medium of strict planning and winging it that suits me now—and hopefully it will continue to improve over time!

When did you start posting your writing, and on what platform? What gave you the push to do that?

I mean, fanfiction has always been part of my life. I think anyone who was growing up in the late 2000’s and early 2010’s found their way to fanfiction.net at some time or other. The wild west compared to what we have now! My first post was for the Lord of the Rings fandom on fanfiction.net. It was an anthology of the story told through the eyes of the steeds. Bill the Pony, Shadowfax—it was all very innocent. That was probably in 2010 when I was fifteen. I had been wanting to share writing for a long time but was worried about how it would be received. I didn’t really have a gauge on my level or my creativity and – one of the many flaws of someone with crippling perfectionism – I only ever wanted to provide perfection. That was a major inhibitor when I was younger. By wanting it to be perfect, I never posted anything. Until that stupidly cute LOTR fic. It was freeing to write something that no one but me had any interest in, because if I was writing for myself then there was no one to disappoint, right? And that was all it took. I had some pauses over the years between college and life and such, but I’ve never lost that mindset when it comes to posting.

What your favorite work of yours that you have ever written? Why is it your favorite? What is more important to you when considering your own stories for your own enjoyment — characters? fandom? spice? emotional development? the work you’ve put into it? Is that different than what you enjoy reading most in other people’s fics?

I don’t think it’ll come as much of a surprise when I say Stitches. While not original, I mean—it follows the plot of the Mandalorian quite diligently, it is the piece of work I really hold very close to my heart. Din Djarin as a character is what got me back into writing after what must have been five years? He inspired something. His manner, his personality—he resonated with me as a person in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. And gave me back a creative outlet I had been missing.

It’s funny to say out loud—but I wanted to give him something? I spent so long thinking about his character that half my brain felt like it belonged to him—how he reacted and responded to things etc. and of course, like every dreamy Pisces—I wanted to give him love and happiness. So, Stitches came along. Personally, when writing—it’s a combination of characters, emotional development and spice (I can’t help myself) and when we can follow that development. With Stitches, it’s definitely the spice that is the conduit for development—but I adore showing how the physical can help people who struggle to communicate emotions too complex for words.

I don’t usually read for Din, as most people know—but I do enjoy reading the type of work that Stitches is. Human, damaged—but still with an undercurrent of hope that makes me think of children’s books.

You said, “much like writing today, I answered myself.” Could you talk about that in relation to Stitches?

So, I’m endlessly curious, it has to be said. Especially about why people are the way they are. Why people do A instead of B. Why X person’s immediate thought went to this place instead of that place. And I’m rarely satisfied with superficial explanations. One of the most exciting parts of writing and fanfiction especially, is making sense of that why. There can be countless explanations, some that are content with what is seen on the surface and some that go deep and some that go even deeper still.

Stitches is almost a – very long winded and much too long – answer to the questions I was so intrigued by about Din Djarin, about the Mandalorian and about the Star Wars universe as a whole. I often wondered what happened to people after the Rebellion, the normal people who fought—the people in the background. What did they do next? Did some of them suffer from PTSD? What was the galaxy like right after the Empire fell? That first season of the Mandalorian answered some of those questions, but I wanted to know more. So, I created a reader insert who was a combat medic—and through her, I let myself answer the questions of what happened next.

Regarding Din as a character, I wanted to know what a bounty hunter with a code of honour would do in certain situations—what made him tick, what made hm vulnerable. I wanted to explore the discovery of his identity. Din Djarin didn’t exist after he was taken from Aq Vetina. He became a cog in a very efficient machine of Mandalorians—and it was safe there. I wanted to see what – or who – might encourage him to step into his own. Grogu was that person in a familial sense, but what about romantically? What about individually? There’s so much to explore with this man! So many facets of personality and nuances of character that make him so gorgeous to write and think about.

Talk to me about the Din Djarin Athletic Universe. How does Din as all of these forms of athlete play off who you see him as in canon?

The Athletic Universe! How I adore my athletes. Despite being in a modern setting, I have kept the core of Din’s character in each of them (at least I hope I have!). I like to divide Din’s character into three phases when it comes to canon because he’s not as immovable as people seem to think he is. We discussed this before, how I see Din as a water element—adaptable, but strong enough that he can be as steadfast as rock. But I digress, the first phase is the character we see in the first episode. Basically, before Grogu. There’s an aggressive brutality to Din when we see him bounty hunting. He works on autopilot and isn’t swayed by sob stories or promises. He has the covert but is ultimately separate. Those soft feelings he comes to recognise when he has Grogu are dormant – not non-existent – but they haven’t been nurtured or encouraged. This is the point I extracted Boxer!Din’s personality and story from.

Cyclist!Din on the other hand—is already a father, a biological father to Grogu. And his personality, I took from that moment in the finale of Season two where I believe Din’s transformative arc of character solidified. He was always a father to Grogu, but I do believe that moment where he removes his helmet is the moment, he accepts that role fully in his heart and mind. And that is why I don’t believe for a second, that removing his helmet was him breaking his Creed. In fact, I believe it was the purest act he could do in devotion to his Creed—to his foundling, to his son. The Cyclist!AU is very much the character I see canon Din having should Grogu have stayed with him. This single dad who isn’t quite sure how he got to where he is now—but does anything and everything for his child without thought. It’s a natural instinct for him, and I like exploring those possibilities with Cyclist!Din.

You also said, “he has the covert but is ultimately separate.” What does it take for him — and you — to get to that point of being ‘not separate?’

I mentioned this above, but one of the biggest interests I have in Din as a character is his identity. He’s a Mandalorian, he’s a bounty hunter, he’s the child’s guardian but those are all what he is, not who. I think Din is separate while being part of the covert because he doesn’t know. I don’t think anyone can really be part of something if they don’t know who they are or, they struggle with their identity. It’s curious to me—how you can deceive even yourself to mimic the standard set for the many. In the boxer verse, he identifies himself in relation to his boxing—and every part of his outward personality exhibits those qualities. But when he’s given a softer touch—an outlet of affection, and comfort—we see the softer side of him surface. It’s very much the same with Stitches Din. Identity is like anything, emotions—relationships, bodies. It needs nurturing to thrive, an open door—a safe space. At least, that’s what goes through my mind when I think of him.

Who is your favorite character to read?

Frankie because there are so many ways his character can be interpreted and there are some stellar versions of him that I think of at least once a day. Javi because he reminds me of kintsugi-- golden recovery, broken pottery where the cracks are highlighted with gold. I also adore reading for Boba Fett, Paz Viszla and the clones!

Is there anything else you want your readers to know about you, your writing, or your creative process?

Hmm... only that I am quite literally a gremlin clown who is always here to chat Din, Star Wars, literature, book recs and anything else under the sun! I like to hear people's stories, their opinions etc. it helps me see things from alternative points of view and can truly help the writing process! Other than that, I think I can only thank readers for putting up with my ridiculously long chapters and rambling introspection. Thank you for indulging me always! ❤️

[passivenovember]

Fic Writer Questions

I was tagged by: @cherrydreamer @gideongrace and @neonponders thank you so much!! I love talking about myself. Love hearing my own voice, so this? Far out.

I’ll tag: @coffeeandchemicals , @disdaidal (if you fancy)

How many works do you have on AO3?

31. I’ve been thinking about deleting or possibly orphaning a few. Maybe consolidating some of the one shots into a single chapter work, just to clean things up a bit.

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

312,628 

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Stranger things - Harringrove. 312,628 words to right the wrongs. I’ve tried writing for Chilling Adventures of Sabrina as well, but they aren’t a very welcoming fandom.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Swallowtail, Walking Home (v)., The Tourniquet, mama said to smile while I still have teeth, Strain Through a Clean Napkin, and If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to respond to everything. It’s very rare that I get a comment on my work, so when I do I like to show that I appreciate my readers interacting with me. It often feels like I’m writing stuff for myself alone, or like I’m sending little message bottles into the sea, waiting for a reply.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably Smoke, Lilies, and Jade.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t usually write cross overs but with my recent interest in the Fear Street Trilogy, I’d like to cross those bridges.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Oh, sure. I find it’s often on the work that I put the most of myself into. There’s one ao3 user in particular who obviously doesn’t ship Harringrove but still finds it within themselves to read all of my longest fics and complain about their endings. 

My most negative experience happened when I signed up for the 2020 Harringrove Holiday Exchange. Smoke, Lilies, and Jade got 50 negative comments from one person and the user I wrote it for told me they never really planned on reading it, so. 

This random asshole made me cry for what felt like no reason. At the end of the day, those who did read it and those who’ve stumbled across that one since continue to ask for me to expand on the world I created, and I’ve been going back to edit whenever I can.

Such a weird experience.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I don’t, but I’d like to. The closest I’ve ever come was for Things I Know to be True, my Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind AU. I’m just not very good at it. I’m easily embarrassed and my fear of failure has my creativity in a goddamn headlock.

Kelly made me promise, however, that I would write my BDSM vampire fic someday, so. We’ll see. Just gotta practice a little bit first. 

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Probably not and honestly? If it ever did happen I’d draw blood when I tracked them down.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I’m a firm believer that all fic should be automatically available in every language once posted. I know that’s not really possible for ao3 but hey. I can dream, right?

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Unfortunately no, but I’d be SOOOOO down to give it a try. Especially with someone who’s strong suit is smut because mine is angst and world building. We could make beautiful music together.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Harringrove. I will be here long after everyone has packed up and left shop. This place and these people are my home.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Things I Know to be True. I get messages about it all the time, but. I’ve hit a wall.

What are your writing strengths?

World building, OCs, dialogue

What are your writing weaknesses?

Smut

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m a bimbo so I try to avoid it. The last thing I want to do is offend someone.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Frerard :/

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

It used to be Super Dark Times but If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields has stolen my heart. Angst, humor, fluff, budding relationships, growth, change, heartache. 

I know exactly the story I want to tell. I’m proud of my work.

[arshipweek]

AR Ship Week - Fanwork Recs

Banner credit

This is the fourth and last weekly post in the lead up to Alex Rider Ship Week. Only 1 week to go!

This week we’ve got a selection of shippy fanwork recs submitted by members of the AR fandom. Enjoy and hope to see you next week!

**Please note that I haven’t listed all the details for the fics so take care to read the tags on AO3 before diving in!

Yassen/Alex

Our Endless Numbered Days by Galimau Just your run of the mill heartwarming look at the quiet beats of Alex and Yassen's relationship...after the apocalypse.  Soft and sweet this fic focuses on the very still and quiet moments of two men at the end times trying to hold onto the things that bring them joy. It's an intimate view of what Alex and Yassen's life could be like of all their cares were quite literally wiped away - excellent  world building and writing make this a must read.

Yalex art by Ireliss Alex and Yassen in a lake! Everything about this picture is perfect - the light, the colours, the feeling of stillness... Probably the most beautiful picture of Alex and Yassen I've ever seen.

Sun Poisoning by fElBiTeR Angsty, beautiful, slowburn soulmate fic with a twist on the usual tropes and gorgeous imagery

Twisting, Turning, Tumbling by ShiruyTheSecond A glacially slow burn, road trip au, and sick fic all mashed into one fic, in non-chronological order based on 100 themes. I'd say this was one of the gateway fics into Yalex for me; there's nothing like reading a longfic you thought was gen and wishing it were slash, only for the realization to hit you in the face like a brick 50 something chapters later. Alex is on the run for a variety of reasons after a mission for MI6 goes spectacularly wrong, so he surprisingly finds himself leaning on Yassen for help, experincing whumpage along the way. Absolutely delicious.

Specific Performance by BurntWhisper Alex is a good spy, good enough that SCORPIA has tasked Yassen with killing him. Yassen can't do that but he can give Alex a very...enthusiastic going away present even Alex hasn't been a very good boy. It's a fun look at Alex and Yassen's first fling with callbacks to the original gen fic. That hits every perfect note and hits a few other things too.

Interlude by Suzie_Shooter Incredibly soft and fluffly Yalex that ends with an unexpected top!Alex and bath sex. Will absolutely warm your heart the way it does mine every time I read this fic.

Medicine by Suzie_Shooter The other fic in response to the prompt of "Alex is given a serum that makes him feel good when he tells the truth" except this one is praise kink while the other is humiliation kink! Specifically focused on a smoking hot blowjob and Alex's reluctance turned enthusiam, plus, there's a second chapter, just in case one dose of the antidote isn't enough.

One Year by BurntWhisper The slowest of slow burns featuring Alex and Yassen on the run from MI6, SCORPIA and their own feelings. Covering 3 months of their life on the run this fic features action as well as the slow, quiet moments where the budding relationship can truly shine through and behind it all the intelligence world continues to grind on threatening to take their happiness with it. It's a beautiful fic with strong, detailed writing and the emotional weight that it deserves.

Midnight Smoke by Hijja If you're in the mood for darker fics with plenty of Yassen hurting Alex complete with violence and heavy dubcon, Hijja has you covered. This particular fic features a mission-type premise with Alex being sent to investigate a spate of teen abductions only to be captured. Yassen is there, and he has his own goals...

Hello Alex by anonymous Fanart: a reunion hug between Yassen and Alex.

Face The Truth by capeofstorm Alex is given a serum that makes him feel good when he tells the truth. Yassen is absolutely a man to take advantage. Recced by Suzie_Shooter

Lights Out by Suzie_Shooter Yassen and Alex left tradecraft behind for a new life in the Greek islands. Ten years on, their relationship is still going strong and they've become island locals, the proprietors of a sailing club and a windsurfing business. Their idyllic life is disrupted by a new threat that wants them dead. I just love the premise of Yalex riding off into the sunset and not looking back. This fic not only has suspense, action, hot sex, and the intimacy borne of ten years...but once you're done, there are two excellent sequels and a prequel to lap up!

Villa in the Sun by BoldAsBrass A multi-chapter story within a story as Yassen and Alex keep in touch over the phone through a tale of a Russian bodyguard's encounters with a young English man. This is so cleverly done and beautifully written; I could re-read it and re-read it (in fact, that's exactly what I've done).

Sting in the Tail by Suzie_Shooter With the world hanging in the balance, MI6 presses an imprisoned Yassen into service. They use Alex to convince him, but also a nasty "sting in the tail" incentive to guarantee results. A thrilling Yalex mission!fic where Yassen and Alex forge their trust in each other by facing mortal danger and saving the world together. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, eating up the slow burn and wondering how on earth they were going to succeed with all the obstacles Scorpia and MI6 threw in their way.

Rarely Pure And Never Simple by fElBiTeR Non-con > dub-con > fuck-yes-con speedrun. Recced by Suzie_Shooter

Just Say I Do by Nanimok I'm possibly biased because this was written for me, but 'woke up married' is a great trope and this is both snarky and adorable. Recced by Suzie_Shooter

Open Invitation by Suzie_Shooter After Ian's death in TV 'verse, fifteen-year-old Alex is living alone in a depressive, self-destructive spiral. He realizes someone is watching him at home...and decides to give them something more compelling to watch. I am squicked out by creepers, but the characterizations tackle the thorny elements head-on: Yassen's mixed feelings and understated pursuit tactics are 100% believable, as is Alex's volatility; he's alternately confused, provocative, and defiant. Exhibit A:“Does that make you a victim, or a slut?” The question came casually, but it had the unexpected sting of a slap. Alex blinked. “What, I can’t be both?” he countered after a second. Plot ensues, because how can a relationship possibly form from such a premise? Mind the tags (you might trip into your next kink because the sex is mind-blowingly hot).

Flirting with Danger by BoldAsBrass Basically THE gateway fic into Yalex for me - short and sweet, snappy narration and dialogue, a sleekly dangerous Yassen and Alex who might be a skilled, pragmatic adult but quickly realises he's in over his head. Sprinkle in a bit of dubcon and scorching hot writing and you get this perfect fic.

Burning a Dead Man's Fingertips by GreenQueenofClubs Multichapter slow burn, MI6!Yassen AU - an excellent premise done extremely well and feels fresh and new, balancing mission-style fic with character development! The dynamic between Yassen and Alex is somewhat different here compared to most Yalex fics as they don't meet until Alex is an adult; a really intriguing glimpse into what could have been...

A Little Pat Down by Nanimok Airport security can be frustrating at the best of times but couple it with being edged like none other by an assassin turned security guard and it can really be a pain in the ass. A filthy but extremely well written premise. Crack taken seriously is this author's strong suit so not a single one of their works will steer you wrong.

Yalex Ballet AU by anonymous Yalex ballet AU with absolutely gorgeous imagery and slow burn. Fluid prose and in the background, the shadows of past histories and things unsaid.

Gentleman's Agreement by Valaks Yassen and Alex have a "gentleman's agreement" for handling their business in the field. No one ever said anything about parent-teacher conferences. Claims to be gen, but deserves a place on this list for subtle genius alone, because with lines like "Like a fine wine, Alex Rider was improving with age" and "How interesting that Alex Rider would be that interested in his hands", what are we supposed to think....? UST in all caps is the best description.

Salty the Sweat on my Fingertips by Galimau A fun little romp of Alex visiting Tom and having to call his overly protective boyfriend? because he's pregnant and everything hurts. Beautifully written, this fic explores the ending of Oceanbreeze7's Moonfish and follows the extremely creative monster biology to its logical conclusion of Alex getting knocked up.

Slipping Through My Fingers by Nanimok This kink meme fill hits in all the right places as we watch through the eyes of a very jealous Julius as Yassen gives Alex all the attention he needs. The writing is, as always, on point and the characterization of Julius gets absolutely nailed (almost as much as Alex). Julius/Alex, Yassen/Alex

Other

Miss Julia by DantesThird Very creepy and traumatic noncon but really believable with Julia Rothman's obsession with John Rider. Alex/Julia Rothman

gone loose inside the shell by cyanides Fantastic messed-up fic where Julius keeps fantasising about killing Alex, but then the fantasies take a different turn. The possessive 'If I can't have you no-one can' dynamic really encapsulates the ship for me, and the fic stuck in my mind afterwards. Alex/Julius

smoke haze by Ireliss Dubcon, gun kink. A really intriguing and quite dark exploration of a young Yassen's situation with Scorpia and his very complex relationship with Hunter. John/Yassen

Our Settling Bones by Galimau A multi-chapter slow burn focused on a former assassin who has lost everything...and Yassen Gregorovich. The tension is off the charts and the characerization is on point. Everything you could want from the rarest of pairs. John Wick/Yassen

Lemniscate by Ireliss A look at what awaits Yassen when he arrives back at Scorpia after killing Vladimir Sharkovsky. This is deliciously dark as well as being entirely plausible. The sensory descriptions are fantastic. Yassen/Julia Rothman

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

 Ok guys its finally finished!!

Introducing the last two main families in my anxciet au!

Please meet the princes

The Prince family

( from left to right)

Rebecca Prince

The boys’s Mother, goes by the names Mother, Ma, and Bec-bec

Her and Diana have been married for 7 years at this point, and been together for about 10(they met and started dating on and off since high school until they got back together permanently during college)

Punk mom punk mom punk mom punk mom punk mom-

She raised roman on her own for his first year before remus was born, in which she started dating Diana again more seriously

She majored in nursing and later in  sociology in college before dropping out to take care of her boys and raise them right

Shes currently going back to school for the sociology degree inbetween her current job

She works as nurse and receptionist at a doctors office in town

Shes in her mid forties current time( where roman is 22, remus is 21, and kingley is 14)

Shes a pretty tough love kinda parent, and doesnt mind rough housing with her boys when they get too out of line and rowdy( they all enjoy the playfullness of it)

But compared to Diana she is not the scary when angry parent, and she can actually be pretty lenient with the boys depending on the situation

She also tends to be the one who gives into their requests and in kingley’s case, puppy eyes, though she puts on a tough front when she does

Rebecca is such a softie for her family I just i cant she loves them so much

She makes dad jokes just to annoy and embarrass her sons, but only makes either classic dad jokes or purposely really bad ones

100% supportive of her older boys’s relationships, and loves to tease Roman about Patton all the time

She also enjoys building things, and helped build the play structure and treehouse that are in the backyard.

Shes probably the reason Remus has no filter, as she has little filter herself

Her hair is naturally honey brown but she dyed it recently to make a statement to a shitty coworker so currently her hair is purple blue and pink

Shes usually pretty reserved around anyone thats not her family, so its a bit of a shock when people see her playful and rowdy compared to her reserved, professional front

Remus prince

The middle child at 21 but hey he can (legally) drink!

Wild feral trash man no matter what, but now hes got a switchblade and two brothers hed fucking kill for( though he wont admit it about roman)

Hes dating Logan and shows a slightly softer side to him only, and hes ride or die with his boyfriend

He tried college but it didnt suit him, so he ended up dropping out and instead getting two part time jobs: one as a vet assistant and one as a bartender, both located near his current apartment

Hes been best friends with Ethen for as long as he can remember, they grew up together and he considers Ethen a brother practically, and remus would probably be in a bad place without him and Remus recognizes this

He has a love for theater and acting that he shares with his older brother Roman and was in pretty much every school performance growing up, and even majored in theater for a bit when he was in college

He also writes alot of original short horror stories 

Hes an adrenaline junkie and loves doing reckless things for the fun of it( usually dragging Ethen or Logan along with him)

He doesnt have a youtube channel of his own but he pops up frequently enough on Ethen’s channel when joining him for explorations that Ethen’s subscribers know him well, and love seeing him in videos

Hes only got two filter and their names are Logan and Ethen 

He wants to get a snakes as pets just as much as Ethen but Their apartment has strict rules 

That did not however stop him from bringing home a in rehabilitation small fresh water turtle home from work one day, and its the only exception to the no pets rule because Remus fought tooth and nail over the fact it was part of his JOB DAMMIT HES KEPPING THE TURTLE IT NEEDS CONSTANT CARE--

ahem. anyway the turtles name is Sir snappy and he adores her

He LOVES teasing both his brothers, even if it means getting teased back he can usually take what he dishes out

usually.

He also has a drivers license but does not currently have a car as he is trying to save up to buy a motorcycle 

Kingley “King” Prince

The youngest of the family!! The also the shortest!!

He goes by the nickname “ King” and has for a couple years now

Hes fourteen and hes very upbeat and cheerful!

Hes also one of Andy’s best friends( He isnt crushing on andy dont listen to remus) and theyve been friends since second grade

Did I mention that they have sleepovers as often as they can? Because they try to. Usually King, andy, and Liam are nearly glued to the hips unless they cant be

Hes got a wild imagination and lots of ideas that he loves to share and try to put out as songs, stories, drawings, etc

He has severe ADHD and takes medication to help him narrow his focus more, as well as to keep his energy levels more consistent so he wouldnt be hugely energetic in the morning and dull and falling asleep by noon. But the medication doesnt effect his creativity sometimes it even helps boost it because he can focus better on his ideas instead of getting too many ideas at once to focus on and work on

His hair has blonde highlights in the winter and looks nearly fully blonde in the summer

Hes got his mama’s caramel brown eyes and tanner skin, as apposed to his ma’s more peachy skin and green eyes

This boy loves to wrestle and roughhouse, hes got alot of energy that needs to be ran out by bedtime and what better way then wrestling his older brothers for the tv remote when they visit? Or playing games at the park or in the backyard until the sun goes down 

He also loves to sing and draw, he can usually be caught humming and you can find doodles all over his homework and school assignments

He also got braces when he was 12 and he loves them and always gets new colors for them as often as he can convinces his parents to agree to

Roman Prince

The eldest brother at 22!

He works at the local theater as a theater tech and assistant director and also performs in a good chunk of the plays put on as well

He loves his job, especially when they put on musicals

He has a college degree in directing and one in music composing

Hes known his boyfriend patton since they were kids since their families are really close, 

He also writes his own short plays and stories that are sometimes performed at his work!!

Oh and this boy our boy roman can cook, hes learned all his cooking from his parents and absolutely loves cooking and learning new recipes and experimenting with old recipes! He also brings extra food into work to share with his coworkers and the actors in case someone doesnt have food with them or the money to buy something( as some of the workers there are broke college students or high schools trying to get experience) He and Patton share this hobby and sometimes have playful cooking competitions in their kitchen!!

Hes got a huge dvd collection that fills tree shelves of a bookshelf in their apartment 

He also holds some acting lessons to younger workers at the theater in the case someone is struggling with a role or performace

Roman is also a very smooth motherfucker in the romace department when he wants to be. Hes romantic and pays alot of to little details and goes all out for date nights, whether theyre at home dates or going out dates he tries to make it as perfect to you as possible

Also he speaks spanish and likes to sing to Patton in spanish to swoon him on a bad day

Diana Prince

The boys’s other mother! Goes by Mama, Mum, and baba

Shes in her late thirties early fourties

did I mention theyve been married for years? I did? Good good

Diana is a blunt sweetheart with a bubbly, snappy personallity and a fiery temper

Shes really good with kids and has a degree in child psychology and works as a guidance counselor at the local high school

She also helps out at their neighborhood’s church with events and sometimes helps with services as an organ player

She plays piano and has been since she was young, she can also play the guitar

She absolutely adores her family but watch out if they break a rule or get themselves into trouble she is the stern one and does not let them get out of trouble. Puppy eyes are wasted on her you do the crime you do the time and the extra chores no arguing.

That is not to say that she wont listen and hear her boys out though, its just normally after hearing them out theyre still in the wrong( pray for remus is he ever got arrested for anything cough cough the homecoming incident cough cough)

Shes been friends with Emile since high school and sees his boys almost like her own, and cares for them as such. 

She speaks spanish and told Roman and the others from a young age, but Roman is the only one who kept with it strongly, Remus only uses it when he angry and King is still learning

Shes an amazing cook, on par or even better than Emile( a statement that has been yet to be confirmed)

She is also a confirmed lover of making big meals 

She loves being outdoors and playing with her kids

She also enjoys doing embroidery as a relaxing hobby

And lastly introducing...

The Daniel family!!

(from left to right)

Olivia Daniels

Logan and Liam’s mom! Shes a psychology professor at the local college! 

Shes been going by the name Olivia for about 16 almost 17 years now and shes never been happier!

Olivia is technically their step mother, as she joined the family after Logan and Liam were born, but very early in their lives( Logan was 10 and Liam was three)

shes in her mid thirties

Her and richard have been married for 12 years and are still going strong!!

olivia is more of a gentle soul kinda person, shes peppy and softer spoken and has a very soothing and trusting presence to her. Shes easy to make laugh and loves making people smile

She also enjoys bringing treats to her classes for her overworking students

Shes not much of a cook but she does try dammit

Looks super sweet but shes a force to be reckoned with if you fuck with her children let me tell you

She wouldve made an excellent therapist had she gone into that field, shes good at listening and offering solutions

She also paints in her spare time!! And sells her paintings at local art shows!!

Shes got the worst sweet tooth ever Richard has to hide sweets in the house

She also works at the same college Logan attends, same with his father

Shes the only blonde in the family with green eyes

 Logan Daniels

Out sassy skeptic! He’s 20 years old and currently attending college with a biology major and a astrology minor!

Hes pretty reserved at first glance, being the calm and common sense to both his best friend Virgil and his boyfriend Remus

But hes such a dork when you get to know him. He could go on for hours and hours about his interests(something Remus loves listening to)

He lives in a single person dorm on campus and works in the student union as well as does tutoring sessions for high schools for extra credits

Hes been dating Remus for a good four almost five years , and they met in freshman year of high school

His dorm room is covered in various posters for astrology and bands he enjoys, as well as a few old theater posters from Remus’s old performances

He was  goddamn punk during high school, and Virgil loves to bring this up to embarrass him

He likes to always wear business casual unless hes staying in, and even then sometimes he keeps to his fashion habits a little too hard

Hes a decent cook, but he doesnt refuse the offer of someone else cooking for him either( or even going out to eat now and then) 

Hes a very large and firm skeptic and greatly enjoys debating with virgil different aspects of his beliefs and paranormal experiences, and functions as the one between them to reason away happenings with logic as a way to ease Virgils nerves. 

But he IS willing to see his best friends side of things if he is provided solid proof. 

He also makes plenty of appearances on Virgil’s channel for a variety of reasons, and his fanbase really likes him

Hes also a very protective older brother, and is not afraid to verbal destroy anyone who hurts his little brother(much to Liams angsty horror) 

He does have a car that he put Remus on his insurance for, so if his boyfriend ever DID need to drive it he would without complications

Logan also does join the boys on explorations, though this is a more rare occurance as he’d rather help them edit the videos and put them out in a timely manner

Hes pretty good at managing his student budget, but he has those moments of splurging randomly for things( as we all do sometimes)

Hes got a really REALLY nice laugh that not too many people outside his inner circle have heard

His eyes are a dark blue just like his dads, and he keeps his dark brown hair messy but practical

Liam Daniels

Logan’s baby brother! Our boy is 13 years old!!

Hes andy’s other best friend, and the final link to their little trio

Hes the more stoic of the three, as he is entering his rebellious angsty teen years a couple years early. 

He loves space and the ocean, and wants to be a marine biologist someday.

Hes not the best at being social, thats why hes got King as their talker and hes the snarky fighter

This boi is alot fiestier than he looks but only his friends and family know that, and he will throw down if you even just look at his loved ones the wrong way( despite his height)

He doesnt always get social cues either which makes him come off kinda rude in situations but I promise he doesnt mean it 

Someone got his mothers sweet tooth but cant have too much sugar because it messes with his body too much

like when he crashes from a sugar high he crashes hard and its BAD

Hes the shortest of his friends, just barely half an inch shorter than Andy

He always looks half tired and like he needs coffee but he cant have coffee so...

he loves to read and his room is filled with so many books!!

He also has a stuffed animal collection but shush about that its a secret

Hes also a spicy food lover( at least to a point, nothing too extreme) 

He likes baggier clothes because theyre more comfortable, and he prefers comfort of fashion

His eyes are a brighter blue and he keeps his hair alot neater than his brother’s

Hes also very snappy, with a comeback for almost everything

Richard Daniels

The dad!! He works as a chemistry professor at the college and a part time physics teacher at the local high school( switching days)

Hes very tall at 6′2(compared to the rest of his family)

He looks really strict but hes surprisingly laid back about alot of things( though rules and discipline are NOT one of those things) 

He is in his early fourties

He took care of the boys on his own for logans first ten years and Liams three before he met Olivia

Hes got the scolding parent look and The Tone mastered and sometimes even uses both on his students to get them to behave, with wildly successful results

Hes very logical and skeptical of things “unrealistic”

Was a stressed out stick in the mud before he met his wife, as he was a new single father trying to secure tennure in a teacher job

Hes the cook in the house, and is really good at it.

hes a more silent understood supporter of his children, as he is much more reserved than his wife

But he as the biggest soft spot for her 

He always tries to raise his boys with a strong balanced set of values and manners

He also can play lacrosse, and was considered the best player back in school

He doesnt have a good relationship with his family aside from his mother, so the boys have only met their grandma on that side, as he doesnt want any toxic mindsets or ideals influencing his children( especially Liam)

compared to Olivia  he isnt soft spoken at all but he would rather dissolve issues with communication and clarification, not anger or violence( yeah LIAM)

He also enjoys watching documentaries and doing casual photography from time to time

And its finally done!! All for families are complete and posted!!

Im really proud of these!! Especially the prince family photo! It took me days to figure out the poses...

All art referenced is credited to @aimasup @underdog-arts and @fangirltothefullest !!

Anyway i hope you guys enjoy! And hopefully soon ill be posting some writings for this au too! And posting more drawings! Enjoy!!

Taglist

@phantommoonpeople

@sweetsweetemo

@leesacrakon

@amazable01

@starbucks-remy

@jemthebookworm

@max-is-tired

@seriously-a-dragon

@sar-kasstic

@soupspam

@strawberryjellystuff

@aimasup

@unsocialchapeau

@underdog-arts

@fangirltothefullest

[oh-phineas]

Emma’s 2020 Questionnaire! 

Your Name: Emma Characters: Phineas Flynn, Tiana Truitt, Aquata Triton, Henry Charming, Evelyn Deavor Pick one of your characters and talk about their growth (we recommend choosing an older character, but it’s up to you!) What about their story has surprised you? What are you proud of? How have they changed from their original inception to now? I’m going to talk about Phineas because I’ve had him for the longest and I think he’s the one I’ve been able to spend the most time developing. So basically something I struggled with when I first picked up Phineas was how he deals with people he doesn’t like, because in the show I don’t think he really dislikes anyone. And I feel like this drama with Tony recently has finally helped me crack what Phineas’s deal is when it comes to conflict-- he doesn’t really feel down about it unless he feels like his character is being questioned, and that’s why with Wilbur he’s mostly like whatever while with Tony and Lock (in the past) Phineas has gotten petty and vindictive-- he doesn’t like the role he’s found himself in and he takes that personally if that makes sense. (Also Phineas just way prioritizes his job with Cornelius over getting back at Wilbur, even if he’ll make the occasional jab at Wilbur in Among Us or on Twitter). So that’s been really cool to explore. And I think he’s also gotten a little less finance-bro-y than I originally intended, but I think that side of him will definitely come out once he graduates and goes to uni. I think the thing I’m most proud of with him is kind of maintaining that balance between being totally likeable and fun while also pretty infuriating and obtuse, like he’s a sweet and well-meaning person who’s also really annoying and idk I think I do that balance well.

Pick another character (or the same character if you only have one) and talk a little about where you WANT them to go. What are your plans for them going into the new year? I’m really excited to see where Tiana goes! Ever since I picked her up, I’ve been focused on this goal of getting the restaurant to happen and now that I’ve done that, there are a lot of possibilities. I want to see Tiana burn out from the stress a little bit-- maybe take on more than she can handle because a big part of her arc has been learning to accept help and collaborate with people, and I got to do that a lot with planning Tiana’s Place, but I would also really like to see that continue because those tendencies don’t really go away. I also want LOVE for Tiana even though I keep saying she doesn’t have time for it-- I want her to get a stupid crush that distracts her from work lol I think it could be really fun. And I’m also really excited to keep developing all her friendships, I love all of her Swynlake native connections and PRINCESS HOUSE and other small business owners and now that she really feels like she has put down roots with her restaurant, I want to see her branching out more.

Pick a thread or a plot that you’re proud of and talk about why you loved it. In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 strengths and talk about why you think it’s one of your strengths. Ok sorry to keep talking about Tiana I promise I have other characters but I’m really proud of all of the different characters I incorporated into the Tiana’s Place opening. My goal was to make a real community effort to show that, no matter how much she wanted to do it on her own, she still has a whole group of people supporting her and who have a stake in it-- from Nuka and Ratigan in the beginning with the financial stuff to Clara and Toulouse and Laszlo with the music/art to Jun and Al for business advice to all the people who donated to the raffle. And the raffle was so fun and I hope people use that for plots!!

I also gotta shout out one more: writing the pirates AU Phineas and Ferb stuff was so much fun and really pushed me as a writer I think. I was a little uneasy going into pirates because action/movement/fights are not my strong suit and I knew there would be a lot of that. But the generated stuff was really helpful in kickstarting some ideas and Sid was so great to work with on that. I thought we got really creative and personally I had so much fun and I hope other people did too. 

In terms of strengths for my writing-- I think I’m good with flaws? Like even characters who are really sweet and nice (I’m looking at you Henry) I think I try to show the different sides of them and explore how you can be both really well-meaning and really misguided at the same time. And I think that’s good because it has the potential to cause conflict and drive forward more plots where there’s no clear ~bad guy~ just flawed people trying their best and that’s the most interesting stuff to me. Of course I also love big bads! I think macro plots are really important. I think my niche though is those petty little conflicts and I think I do a good job with them. 

I’m adding another too because you know what why not. I think I've gotten pretty creative recently?? Like I’ve done some really weird fun stuff this year-- Henry and Jake’s acapella audition is up there as one of my favorite threads, and I’m really excited about Tiana and Aurora’s fake date and Greg and Q doing Santa’s Workshop and I think Henry’s first open was one of my favorite opens I’ve done. Idk I think one of my insecurities about RP has always been that I worry I don’t bring enough ideas to the table with plotting and I think I’m getting better at letting my brain dream up weird cool stuff.

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 areas of improvement.

Like I said, plotting is still something I struggle with-- I spent the majority of my early RP experience in a very gif-chat-heavy open-heavy fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants rp, so coming to BDRP even back during round 1 in 2017, plotting was a big surprise to me. And this is also something that I struggle with in my non-RP writing-- story arc and structure is something I have always wanted to improve. But I think I’m getting better at fleshing out ideas and not putting too much pressure on myself. And I think I’m also getting better at stepping out of my comfort zone and messaging people I don’t write with as often which is important because literally everyone here is so fun and talented! So I want to keep doing that. I know I can be a little shy sometimes (this sounds SO weird I never shut up lol but it’s how I feel) and I don’t want that to hold me back

In terms of actual writing stuff, I’d like to expand my vocabulary a bit more? I think I use certain words and phrasing so often that it annoys me and maybe it annoys no one else and my writing will be worse if I try to throw in unnecessary words but yeah. I think reading more will help with that. And in general I just really want to get better at thinking stuff through and building story arcs. 

Pick one of your plots, or even just a character, and come up with a list of 3-5 “mentor texts” where you can look for inspiration or research, then write a short (2-4 sentences) why you picked those texts. (They don’t have to be books, either!)

Ev is the one I feel like I need to do the most development on so here goes!

1. Red White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston, specifically the character Nora

Messy nerd girls! Messy nerd girls! Please recommend me more things with messy nerd girls! Nora is basically Ev’s exterior, the person people know her as. She’s chaotic and fun and relatable, and also kind of a genius.

2. Macbeth, specifically the character Lady Macbeth

This is one I wanna dive into! I’ve seen a heavily abridged version of Macbeth and that’s about it but I have a copy sitting on my desk. I love a villain who likes to stay behind the scenes and pull the strings, and while Ev is in this for “moral reasons” (lol) she’s also in this for #power. I’m not used to playing manipulative villains-- I’m usually more of a henchperson type deal, so the ultimate 4-D chess gal would be some good inspo.

3. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, specifically Professor Quirrell.

Ok I am really sorry to bring Harry Potter into this but I think something that’s important about Ev is that one of the things distracting from her villainy is her vague air of incompetency. We know she’s very smart and she has the whole nutty-professor thing going, but she’s kind of a mess and I want characters to underestimate her. I think Quirrell’s vibe of being nervous about everything is similar to Ev’s messy exterior and I would love a good end-of-the-book villain reveal.  And now, a wishlist! Jot down a few themes or stories or genres etc that you want to maybe pursue in the upcoming year! (i.e. a good ol’ fashion forbidden romance, maybe you want to dig deep into racial identity etc) This doesn’t have to necessarily be attached to any characters or stories you have now– it’s just meant to help you see for yourself what kind of stories call to your heart.

Oooh so many things. Generally more romance-- I always hesitate a little with shipping IDK WHY maybe it’s insecurity about jumping into what always feels like a bit plot to me lol. But I wanna take that plunge more-- especially with Tiana! But I’m pretty much open to stuff with anyone, especially really silly rom-com type stuff. I also think that my shipping niche is super complicated stuff with villains (the irony and craziness of the Henleigh situation is so FASCINATING and FUN and I want MORE OF THAT) so just saying a I’m-flirting-with-you-because-you’re-a-good-ally-to-have-on-my-side-oh-no-I’m-actually-falling-for-you thing with Ev could be really fun (LISTEN her entire tag is just shipping content. I scroll through so much of it so of course it gave me some ideas)

I’m also REALLY jazzed about the uni stuff going on right now. Like I’ve said before, I think college is a really interesting place and so much weird shit happens there because you have all these 18-22 year olds living in close quarters and they come up with weird ways to entertain themselves. The secret santa/RA stuff has me loling every day and I just love stuff like that. Like, I’d love to have shenanigans like people sneaking into dorms and staying up until 3 am in the library and all that stuff. I just love that stuff.

Also I am really trying to do big bad stuff with Ev!! As I have mentioned... plotting and story arcs are a major thing I’m trying to work on, so it’s a lot to think about, but I would really just love to do all kinds of things-- I’d love to have her enable small-time villains, or manipulate people who are easily swayed, or to trick people. It’s a new area for me, but it’s something I’m excited about and I want to challenge myself.

OPTIONAL: Why do you RP?

Because I literally can’t stop apparently lol. No but the thing I love about RP is getting to collaborate on a story and getting surprised by people, getting to geek out about something that I can also participate in, and having NO RULES. I think there’s something really special about having an interest that I can’t monetize or market, that I can do for pure fun out of my love of creating and writing. And I love having a community of people on the ride with me. It’s so much fun and I’m so grateful for you guys!

I always end with a gif so here’s my favorite gif it legit makes me laugh out loud

[beanenigma]

Transitioning from Fan Fiction to Original Fiction

The first thing I want to say going into this guide is that there is nothing wrong with writing fanfiction. It’s fun, it’s a major part of the socialization of a fandom and frankly? Most of it is great writing despite the bad rep (which comes mainly from very young unexperienced people just wanting to have fun). There is no obligation for you to write anything else and you should never feel pressured to.

However, if you do want to start developing your own completely original ideas, but have a hard time not thinking of ideas outside of your fandom, here are some tips I found useful in my own process of transition.

Starting out

Starting out is hard. It’s important to keep in mind that it will never come as easy as fanfiction does. But that is because you’re doing everything from scratch. You have to do a lot of work you didn’t have before: figuring out  characters’ personalities, their appearance, their names, their backstories, their relationships, their environment, etc. That doesn’t mean you are a bad writer or that you should stay in fanfiction forever. Just be kind to yourself, allow yourself time to learn and carry on

Having a hard time thinking of ideas? You needn’t go too far. You have the creativity, you’ve just been focusing it and you can learn to refocus it. Think of your preferred fandom and ship. Think of what makes them so interesting to you, and how you can utilize these dynamics in other contexts. And remember, this time, you control canon from the start. Reality of these characters can be what you always dreamed for them. This is especially easy for AU writers, but others can do it just as easily

Notice I say dynamics, not story: think in general terms. Grumpy character who loves smol character. Found family. Revolution. You can use TVTropes to try and diagnose the dynamics you like about it and get ideas on how other pieces of media have utilized it

If a character still feels too much like a rip off from somewhere else, give them a makeover! Change their name and a little bit of their appearance, give them new habits, a characteristic that’s yours or your friend’s or that person’s you saw on the bus the other day. Shape them until they’re someone new. 

Unlocking previously locked doors

Expand. Crossovers are not a very popular thing in fanfiction anymore, but they can be of massive help for when you transition to original fiction. Think of other things you like. Everything: movies, games, series, comics. Notice the dynamics in them too. How can you merge them? Integrate them into an amalgamate of things you like until it’s unrecognizable from all they used to be and it becomes something completely new. 

Expand more. I feel like I say this in every guide I make, but build repertoire. New ideas can come from everywhere and anywhere. That old tumblr post you read about that mythological creature? What about that article you read about that couple years ago? Pulling stories out of regular things is what humans do. So start pulling on everything and see what comes out! 

Remember where you came from

A large part of our anxiety when it comes to writing original fiction is that our ideas seem silly or weak. It’s hard to shake that feeling. Except if you come from a place where all ideas matter: a fandom. You’ve read through coffee shops AUs and college AUs and AUs that had no right to exist and still they do and you love them for it? You’ve read countless crossovers and you’ve marveled at how they work out things that seemed irreconcilable. You’ve seen meme fanfictions and somehow they work. None of those ideas were particularly strong but they worked because those creators believed in them and the fandom followed suit.  As long as you believe in the work that you’re doing, people will too. It might seem distant when you’re starting out, but it will happen. 

Fanfic tropes can appear on fiction too. Coffee shop AU? That’s something of the past! Why don’t your characters actually work on a coffee shop? Or own one? Or a flower shop? Hades and Persephone AU? How about you have your own set of gods and and underworld and godly love? And the best thing is that the people who read the same things you did will know, but it will be your little secret. 

Fanfiction readers are also readers. Not all of them, of course, but a large majority. They can and will support you in your further endeavors. If you could please them with your fanfiction, you can continue to please them doing something else. 

And don’t forget: just because you’re moving into original fiction, it doesn’t mean it has to become anything other than a hobby. You don’t have to put a lot of pressure on yourself. Original Fiction, just as much as Fanfiction, can be a source of fun, self-discovery and practice of a way of art. 

If you want to talk about your own process, please drop by my askbox! It’s always open <3 And if you would like some more writing advice, you can take a look at my masterlist or follow me for similar content. 

[peachydyoung]

money talks | k.dy (m)

— genre ➙  sugardaddy!au + smut + angst — words ➙ 8k i love writing doyoung please kill me — member ➙ kim dongyoung — warnings ➙ graphic smut, dirty talk, rough sex, softdom!doyoung + sub!reader, oral sex, fingering + strong language + inappropriate scenario // 2 smuts in one

The owner of a multi-billion dollar company plans to invest in your career for a small price. He gives you one rule... Don’t get attached.

↳ 01 completed

— ⚠️ DISCLAIMER⚠️ ➙  This contains a very problematic scenario. I personally do not advocate for this, and please know that this is writing, a story with an intriguing topic to read about, not to act upon. Each fic will have their own set of warnings, look at them and evaluate if they are for you. My intention is not to offend, or trigger anybody, I am here to entertain you and exercise my passion as a writer. a/n here’s a nice long doyoung smut, 2 sex scenes cause there is never enough and doyoung my bias. 

“I haven’t seen you before,” A dark-haired, broad-shouldered man smiled, raising his wine glass in front of him. His penetrating eyes and gummy smile made you unconsciously lift yours. Although it was your first time at this party, you wondered why you hadn’t seen him earlier. He was senselessly gorgeous.

You were insecure under his stare, he stood there in front of you with his fancy suit and handsome face. The only dresses you could afford were the ones from forever 21. And even then it was still a little much. Nonetheless, you could always manage to make five dollars look like hundred.

“Uh, yeah, I’m a plus one,” you said apprehensively, but the man seemed to catch on to it. Taeyong had brought you along and asked that you mingle to make more connections. He noticed that you were becoming more and more insecure about your photography with every new job that turned you down.

“Mmm,” He hummed, taking a sip of his wine and letting his eyes rake over your body. “So you’re here with a man? Women? By yourself?” He was easy on the eyes, especially wearing an expensive black suit and being in his mid or late twenties.

“My friend… you might know him, his name is Taeyong. He’s pretty popular amongst the mainstream dancing thing. He has a lot of friends.” His eyes widened comically, a big smile playing on his youthful skin as he let out a laugh. You didn’t wanna be here at all, but you knew coming here meant photography connections and you needed that before college ended.

“Me and Taeyong? We go way back,” He said grinning as if he was reliving a past memory. “Can I?” he gestured to the open chair next to you, his smile making you say yes to anything he could have asked.

“Yeah of course!” You adjusted your body to look more presentable. With a nod, he sat on the stool next to you, placing his glass on the counter of the fancy bar and drumming his fingers on the granite counter.

“So…has no other man come to talk to you yet?” Your cheeks were blanketed in a red sheer glow as he asked the question. To answer his question, no, nobody had come to talk to you. You either scared them away or were a ghost to the rich and snobby crowd.  “I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable it’s just a question a man has when they see a beautiful woman sitting alone—I’m Doyoung by the way, Kim Dongyoung.” He had manners too, something you liked in a guy. And this one wasn’t a frat boy, he was a real man with a job.

“I’m Y/N, and no, nobody has.” The beginnings of a smirk were present on his small lips. His answer didn’t shock him,  he knew that you would be his by the end of the night. “And if you’re wondering, I don’t have a boyfriend either,” You added on playfully, earning a chuckle.  He sipped his drink, mischievous twinkling in his eyes.

“Well, I don’t have a girlfriend either.” A smile illuminated his face, he looked down, something about it was bittersweet. “So what do you do?” He asked. “What do you do to make a life for yourself.”

“Photographer, I’m a photographer.” He nodded. “I uh, I’m going to college right now majoring in photography, which is going very well. I want to break into high fashion photography for models, especially nude shoots, those are always fun.” He laughed, it was deep, low, and genuine. “It’ll never happen though, should've become a dentist like my mom suggested.” You paused momentarily, holding eye contact with the man. His eyes were dark, narrow, and discerning.  “Fine art photography is my backup, but it’s even harder to make a name for yourself. Photography is hard to break into now, you know.” You laughed awkwardly. “Part-time jobs are my income and will continue to be that way.”

“Consider yourself lucky. At Least you’re doing something you love. Do you know how many people have money and office jobs and hate it… a lot, I’ll tell you that much.” You guessed he was right, he looked rich enough to make the assumption. “ If photography truly makes you happy, pursuing it is the only way to go. We live most of our lives in work anyways,, don’t play dentist because your mom said so. Novelty wears off.”

“And are you happy?” You tilted your head, earning a silent laugh from him.

“Do you know who I am?” He inquired, looking more and more smug by the minute. “Never heard of KDY Enterprises? Or Entertainment?.” You were ashamed of not knowing, nodding your head no shyly. He didn’t seem to mind, he actually looked a little… happy?

“So you have money? And an office job?” He was hesitant to answer you but decided to say it anyway.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“So, tell me first hand, do you hate your job, does the novelty of money wear off?” He cocked his head to the side, his tongue poking from his cheek as he swallowed your playful retort.

“You know what people don’t know?” He asked, setting down his drink and narrowing his eyes at you. “I might have a busy job, but money never gets old. Despite what people think, I can buy happiness.”

“Sure you can. You can buy food, mattresses, houses, plane tickets, all of which that would make one happy, me included. But what’s the point of buying a house when it’s empty? You can have a bag of groceries, but you won’t finish all the food. Mattresses get cold when one side is slept on more than the other.”

A shaky sigh left his lips, you guessed that nobody had really talked to him like this, after all, he was the CEO of his own company. “My penthouse is pretty empty,” He shrugged, ogling you. “My bed’s cold as well.” A sly smirk found its way to his face. “I like sharing. With my friends… family...charity.” You chuckled at him, sipping wine from your own glass.

“I know people in the fashion business, I know models, I know photographers.” You knew a business opportunity when you saw one, you cocked your eyebrow and looked at him through hooded eyes.

“I don’t follow.” You looked everywhere but him, at the ceiling, at the ground, just left of his head. You even spotted Taeyong talking to some girl. But you were too nervous to look at him, too nervous to hear what he would propose.

“Because I’m lonely and rich as you so kindly pointed out,” He retorted. “Why don’t I help you with your photography dream. And If you’re so willing we can even share a  bed.” You started at him, watching as he got up from his chair and stepping in front of you.

“And how did you intend on doing that?”

“Sweetheart, come with me and let me show you.”

With his arm outstretched and his hand offered. You took it, not knowing you made a deal with the devil.

A year later

Your eyes hurt and were dry from keeping them open. Your photoshop was broken, and you couldn't email the photos without your computer shutting down. No matter how hard you tried none of your photographs were looking the way you’d imagine them to turn out like. Fine art photography wasn’t supposed to be forced, but you’ve been in a rut for at least a month.

It wasn’t always like this. Your creativity would be bursting at the seams when he was there. Everything seemed to be going right when Doyoung showed up. When he was gone it was like you were living your days in an endless loop of loneliness and fame. The world went on without you, life passed you. It was when you were with Doyoung that you could catch up to it again. Without him, you were stuck, life stopped.

Doyoung offered you an easy out of your part time jobs with mediocre pay and wage times. He introduced you to a world of magic and wealth. Although you were skeptical at first, you had no choice but to agree, there was no way you could get through college and then get a decent job. College at that point was getting pretty shitty with all its stressful exams, and you needed a way out. And there was your opportunity.

Of course, there were rules you were to follow religiously. If you were to break any of them you don't know what Doyoung would do to you, he could be super creative at times. Regardless, you followed them because you were grateful for all he did for you, not just because he told you too.

You weren’t stupid, you knew that he had other girls spread across the world waiting to be fucked just like you were. They were probably held up in a penthouse just like you. But you didn’t ask questions, you didn’t care. You broke rule number, don’t get too attached. And that was the first mistake you made with your dangerous life with Doyoung.

You shut your laptop and groaned, pulling the instant noodles you made earlier towards you. You took a spoonful of the now cold and mushy noodles. You had been able to pay back Doyoung the million dollars he gave you to start your photography career and made nearly 20 times more. Yet you still stayed and ate less than mediocre food. Bad habits never change.

“This is fucking disgusting,” you muttered to yourself, snatching the cup of noodles up in your hand and sauntering over to the kitchen.

The house was pretty minimalistic. It was mostly all white with black furniture, cool toned things and such. It was all open concept, the kitchen, living room, and dining room. Every countertop was white quartz, every cabinet war of the highest quality wood, you lived lavishly.

You opened the trash can and threw the mushy noodles in. Doyoung had promised to bring you dinner that night, and as the clock struck closer and closer to twelve you knew it was a lost cause. And instead of calling, you turned into a muttering mess. “Doyoung, when you come back I’m gonna fucking kill you for making me wait—”

“Now baby,” a familiar voice cut through the air behind you. “You’re not actually planning on doing something  stupid, right?”

The familiar sight of his white button-down shirt came into vision. It was a nice sense of normalcy when you saw him sweaty after work,  his white shirt clinging to his skin. It made you feel like one of those conventional couples, the ones where the wife greets the husband when he gets back from work.

He dropped his briefcase on the ground and lean up on the counter across from you.

“Fuck you.” He pretended to look shocked from what you had said, but to be frank, this whole month you had been giving him attitude and you yourself didn’t even know why. This doesn't surprise him.

“Cute,” he remarked. “It wouldn't be the first time I have.” You had become so comfortable with him in the year you knew him. But as you grew comfortable,  his slide remarks didn’t turn you on like they used to, his broken promises actually hurt, the relationship actually meant something to you. And you didn’t know if any of those things mattered to him ” I wonder  when  you’ll  learn to behave and not disobey me.” He ran his finger through his black hair and smirked. “I’m in need of a destresser.”

“You have other whores for tha—”

“Aren’t you brave tonight?” He raised his voice at you. “Like I said.” He pronounced each word clearly and loud. “I’m stressed and I missed you. I’ll dismiss the fact that you just said that to me as well.” He looked around the kitchen, finally locking eyes with you. “You should be happy I’m here, I’m a busy man you know.”

“Oh my god, thank you Doyoung for gracing me with your presence that wasn’t even spontaneous, it was promised!  Better yet! Thank you for being five hours late!” You never really got mad at him, even now the anger wasn’t at its breaking point, but this month things started to change.

“I don’t understand why you have to be so rude. You’ve been doing it a lot lately.”

You narrowed your eyes at your employer, finally a real anger brewing inside of you for all that he put you through. He sensed that, and despite his usual half-assed sorries, he pulled one out of his ass and made it sound even a little real. “I’m sorry Y/N. What can I do to make it up to you? Money? Jewelry? You name it. ” You were fully prepared to make an escape to your room and not see him for a couple of more months. You walked away.

“Y/N, don’t leave—” But you were already walking, walking, and walking away. “Y/N stop walking…  stop now.”

If it hadn’t been for how scary his voice was when he yelled, you might’ve not stopped, but maybe a part of you still would’ve.

“Get the fuck over here, right fucking now.” His voice was deep when he shouted, it was scary. In that moment you knew you were gonna fuck him, from the moment you saw him you knew.

“Why don’t you get the fuck over here, since you miss me so bad.” You turned around and looked at him. He was still leaning on the counter, staring at you. He reluctantly got up with a huff and paraded over meeting you at the dining table. His hand cupped your cheek while his other brushed some stray hair away from your face, pulling your face up. 

“Who do you think you are?” He said just above a whisper. “I don’t like fucking attitude,” he spat at you. “You should remember how you acted when you first got her, cause you weren’t like this.”

This was the fourth time he’d visited that week. Each time he came he was more stressed than the last, and you were becoming more reluctant as the days went on. It was one of the longest times he came. 

You wondered wh yourself was giving him attitude, he was generally a nice person with good intentions and you could tell that this was hurting him. But he was hurting you, he was always hurting you. Maybe the attitude would compensate for the fact that you actually had feelings for the man and pushing him away would help in the long run. “Bedroom, princess.”

He was right behind you quickly heading into the master bedroom like he was your parent tucking you to bed at night. You hated when he did that. He pushed you down on the bed roughly, letting you get enough time in to look up at him. He ripped the buttons of his button shirt open so hard you heard the little sounds of beads falling on the ground. He pulled down his pants so quickly you thought you heard a tear.

Faster than a heartbeat, his lips were pushed against yours feverishly. Doyoung always kissed rough and quick, always being careful of not kissing you too long so you never got the wrong idea. He was pulling on the hem of your shirt, leaving a trail of warm kisses down your neck as he struggled to pull it off your body.

Doyoung was everything you needed in bed. He was confident, caring, rough, and surprisingly exciting. Once he had pulled you top off, he was pulling down your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind him and chuckling. He ground his hips against yours. Enough to get you wet and leave your juices on soaking your panties.

Despite what people thought Doyoung's lips were soft and warm, not cold at all like the media portrayed. He was warm and inviting. So as he kissed you, you let your hands knot in the roots of his hair and pull.

He sighed pushing his tongue deep inside your mouth, a moaning. Your hips rocked against his, creating more and more friction for the both of you. His hands slipped to your waist, pulling the panties down on the right side. It was the fourth time this week his body was on top of yours, and you loved it.

“Doyoung—”

“Sweetheart you lost the right to talk,” He hummed, pulling your panties down and teasing your slit. He looked down at your pink pussy and intricately pleasured you, making you gasp. He was always in charge—always. He was the one that would leave you thoroughly fucked or in a crumpled up mess waiting to be. That was the way it was, and you liked the high stakes. A suppressed moan fell from your lips and was caught in his when he pushed the pad of his thumb on your clit.

“You can moan baby, I won’t stop you from doing that, ” He snickered, feeling your wetness gather up around your clit and entrance.

“You’re already dripping.” He smiled against your mouth than peppering kisses down your neck in sloppy unorganized kisses.

Without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, and you tried hard to suppress the scream that crawled at the back of your throat. Normally Doyoung liked to rile you up, he thrust his long fingers in and out of your pussy, in a search for your sweet spot. When he curled his fingers, he found it, rubbing it gently to push you over.

“Doyoung.“ He pushed his lips onto yours again roughly, surely leaving a bruise from how hard. All you heard were your muffled screams as his fingers were buried deep inside your pussy. You arch your back into him, letting your tits cover his bare chest.

“Baby I’m want to fuck you so bad now.”

Doyoung wasn’t the longest, but he fit you, he fit you better than a lot of men could and he knew how to fuck. You could see the outline of his member through his white tenting boxer shorts. He was painfully hard, he palmed himself through his boxers and groaned.

“Let me,” You sat up,  reaching out towards his boxers pulling them down steadily. He let you, watching the excitement in your eyes as his cock sprung free from his boxers. But he pushed your hands away.

“Let me be inside of you right now.” Doyoung was so incredibly gentle with you, no matter how many times you saw him in bare skin it excited you. Even when he was rough, he always found a way to make you feel okay, and you hated that he shared that with other girls.

“But I—”

“Please baby, please.” He spread your legs slowly across the bed, peeling each leg from the other to accommodate for his lanky body. This wasn’t how he usually liked to fuck you, he was normally rough, very rough. Him skipping a blow job, using a gentle touch, not calling you names was weird for you. Nonetheless, you didn’t object to it. No matter how you felt, one thing remained certain. You wanted him.

On his knees, he stroked himself, spitting on his hand and beginning to pump his shaft slowly with one hand. He lined himself up, slowly beginning to lay down on top of you. Within seconds he entered you in one hard thrust that made you moan out in pleasure. You never got over how well he fit inside you. Your friends would always talk about how their boyfriend had the biggest cock, but you doubted the notion that they pleasured them well or even at all. With Doyoung, every flaw you both had, everything about you two fit together, he knew what you wanted and made sure to give it to you. And you were sad to say that you felt at home with the whore hoarding CEO.  

“God, you always feel so good,” He hissed, his face falling into your neck and a loud muffled groan drop from his lips. He moved slowly at first, pulling out of you with little force before burying himself in your walls once more.

You moaned, head thrown back on the silk sheets and your hands knotted in his hair. “Doyoung,” You croaked. “Why aren’t you going faster?” you could barely talk, your voice came unsteadily. Gripping your hips tightly with his slender hands.

“I wanna take my time tonight.” He wanted his time for you. Regardless of how many girls he had, he wanted to savor this. He made sure to thrust deep, hard, but slow. Working to find your sweet spot than to blindly fuck you. You could feel his tip hitting your cervix in painful pleasure.

“Doyoung!” You squealed, as he thrust harder, followed by a high moan.

“Keep moaning like that.” He grunted, eyes falling to your face.

So you did as he asked, performing for him, you cried even louder. A chain of panicked moans left his mouth as you involuntarily clenched around his cock, he was hitting all the right spots inside you, but he needed to do more to compensate for the slow speed.

“Can I touch you?” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to find the words to tell him to do it, to make you writhe at his will. But instead, you nodded, seeing his hand travel down in between you, and rubbing small circles over the swollen bundle of nerves. “Like this?”

“Y-yes.” You choked out. Doyoung was so calm, yet filled with so much pleasure. You didn’t know there could be this side of him. Through your gasps and unprompted shudders, he had to lean only a centimeter to capture your lips in his.

His slow thrusts continued, alongside his fingers, still rubbing your clit as he tried to kiss you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, letting them dance across his back, he drove his tongue into your mouth widely. All at once a collective wave of emotions swarmed you, an urgency filled the room as you climbed closer and closer to your climax.

“I’m going--to come…” You groaned. Your fingers pulling the roots of his hair.

“Y/N.” Your vision blurred, you pulse around him, breathing shallow and sweat gathering over your body.

“Oh my god…” You whimpered, you had become oversensitive. Your legs began to rattle against his body, a loud string of low moans leaving Doyoung as you felt him realize into you. His head fell into your neck, moaning against your sweet skin.

He held you in his arms, continuing to moan until you both finally released. You both stayed in each other's arms for a moment, catching your breath, breathing ruggedly as Doyoung rolled off of you. Just as quickly as he got into the bed, he slung his legs over the side and got up, pulling on his discarded clothes.

“You’re leaving so soon?” He looked at you, zipping up his pants and shrugging silently. Your heart sank.

“I need to. We have a meeting tomorrow and I need to take a quick flight to Busan, I’ll be back princess, you’ll see me tomorrow, don’t worry.” You wanted to act like a man, your man, your boyfriend, your husband, but you knew you would asking too much. As much as you wanted him to be yours, you knew he never would be, and so your anger showed in your attitude.

“Why bother with Busan, we’re in Seoul.” A small smile played on his face, he seemed happy that you didn’t want him to leave. You wrapped the pale pink silk sheets around your body, and slowly ascended from the bed. You stood in front of him, hoping he wouldn't leave. Still smiling, he leaned forward and kissed your head, a little too lovingly.

“I got you something just before I came. I waited a couple weeks for it. It’ll  atone for leaving so soon.”

You glanced at him curiously, your eyebrow cocking inquisitively. He did it again. He came, fucked you, stayed, and then left. He did it over and over again until the cycle felt never-ending. At first, you didn’t see a problem, but now, now you were in too deep.

He disappears behind your door, you can hear his quick footsteps as he goes to retrieve whatever it was he got for you. You couldn't help but be excited. Doyoung had money, Doyoung helped you with your career, but it wasn’t every day that he got you something without a request. He came back, a black necklace box in hand.

“For you,” he said, handing you the back box and excitedly awaiting your reaction. You opened it, a surge of happiness and shock flowing through you.

“Doyoung. How?” Your eyes widened, an ear to ear grin appeared on your face as you opened the box.  

A month ago you had managed to get a seat at one of the most famous auctions there ever was. All the proceeds went to charity, but you were there for one thing. Taeyong always said you looked best in pearls, but not any pearls, not counterfeit imitated ones. Real, natural white pearls. And he was right, they looked gorgeous on you.

You had a budget of a 1.5 million, now that you could afford to make such a risky purchase, but someone outbid you. You were so upset when you found out you wouldn’t get the pearls that Doyoung had to spend at least a week putting up with your rants, irrational mood swings, and attitude. But now you were staring at the pearls, and it was because of him.

“I knew you wanted them so I had to get them. I want you to wear them tomorrow, you look sophisticated and elegant, and beautiful in pearls.” Doyoung’s voice sounded sensual as it trailed off.

“Thank you so much—Oh my god, I could photograph this! Did you know Pearls promote centeredness, faith, loyalty, truth, and purity. I mean, my fine art project could really—oh my god, thank you so so so much.“ Your mind ran in every which way, thoughts of gratitude and respect raced through your head, while there were ideas of love and photography. You lunged at him, arms wrapped around your waist, playfully pulling at the sheets. “It must of cost so much—”

“Don’t worry about it… but Y/N, I really need to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pulled away from you.

And without another word he was gone. And there was no proof he ever was actually there.

“I need to turn down that offer, I’ll take new photos for the design, but I won't allow you to use my past works!” You folded your hands together, glancing around the room at the businessmen that observed your photography portfolio. There was one girl there. She looked like she was plucked from a gucci store in some beautiful country, but she had a mental capacity of a fifteen-year-old.

“I mean, using your old ones would ensure they would turn out good, you photos recently have been pretty—”

“Pardon me for asking, but who  are you, I haven’t seen you here before.” You sat at a table with reputable officials of Dyoung's company. You were held in high esteem at his enterprise. You were someone who was able to give Doyoung's company a mainstream vibe, generating buzz with the main media.

“Oh,” She laughed obviously as if you should've known who she was. “I’m new, but I’m Kim Dongyoung assistant, I take care of all the office needs and his needs as well.” You knew what she was. You never met his assistants, but people told you he went through them like cigarettes to an addict.

“This is a professional meeting with esteemed entrepreneurs, executives, and merchandisers. In this world, you build yourself up to power by connections and talent. I commend you for having such a difficult job, and starting a path to invent yourself. But you’re an assistant, know your place. Especially around people at this table. If I say that I don’t want past photos used then you can give me a concept or we can end the meeting and the company doesn't need me. Are we all  clear?” Everyone nodded, taking what you had said into consideration.

You learned very fast that your vocabulary and persona had to change at places like this, sometimes you let yourself slip, as you did now. But you couldn't help it,  she had this aura around her like she was fucking the CEO. Nevertheless, the rest of the people nodded, some smirking at your statement. To say the least, nobody really liked her.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I think since it’s going to be for the new computer he’s making, maybe we could go in the path apple had gone in. Great landscapes, flowers, I know you could absolutely make those amazing.” You smiled at the man, glancing at the girl momentarily and writing notes on your notepad. Where the fuck was Doyoung.

“Yes! I like that, but we could also do hipster things maybe,” the older women smiled. “My daughter, she goes to a lot of festivals and takes fantastic photos, they look so amazing, maybe we can get in touch with the interest of modern media and take pictures of those things.

“What’s your name Miss?” You asked flipping a page in your notepad to write it down.

“Oh!” She grinned happily.

“Ho Hyang-Soon. Spelled H-Y-A-N-G-Soon.” In the blink of an eye the door slowly creaked open, tensely, Doyoung appeared from the door.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I was held up at another meeting, if I had known I would have been late, I would have canceled, my deepest apologies,” He bowed down at everyone. He was good at lying sometimes, this was a lie he was particularly good at executing. You knew he had to be with one of his other girls. Regardless of what he was doing, you never asked you just nodded and did as you were told.

The meeting got pretty boring from that moment forward, they told you what photographs they wanted you to take and then you were basically done, the rest of the duration consisted of Doyoung calling more shots on the design of his computer.

You had never felt more happy to leave a meeting. Sometimes you thought they were fun. It was like coffee hour when Doyong wasn’t around. Other times they were absolutely boring.

You stood over Ms. Ho Hyang-Soon’s desk discussing her ideas towards the desktop art and photograpghy. You could tell she was flattered you had decided to talk to her and acknowledge her idea, it was very hard to do that with Doyoung.

However, the smile soon disappeared from your face when the doors to Doyoung’s office opened and revealed him and his shotty new assistant. Her hand was placed on his shoulder as he talked to one of his office friends, her smile wickedly evil as she glanced at you. You touched the pearls on your neck, realized that you had worn something he had given. You looked weak.  Despite having an agreement, you felt betrayed.

Dismissing yourself from the women and sauntering past the couple, you got angrier. As tempting as it was, killing someone in a workplace would be incredibly unprofessional and you were no insufficient pirahea. You in fact were a great, great businesswoman. You reached to back of your neck, unclasping the pearls that burned your skin with embarrassment and shoved it into the pocket of you pants suit. How could he do this to you? In a workplace as well.

You didn’t turn around, although you did hope he would call your name to go after you, he didn’t.

Minutes later, of more pining and pitying of yourself, you decided to get back on track and talk to more people. It was as if every minute Doyoung wasted, made you more and more anxious about him not coming at all. It almost hurt how much he didn’t care. As much as Doyoung had helped you, somehow you felt that he still thought of you as a little girl. You tried desperately to show him you were women, in more ways than one.

You excused yourself from yet another person and strolled over to his office. You loved being in there, it was massive, it had a huge window with a view of all of Sueol. You reached his door, pulling it open. “Doy—oh my god.” You stood at the door, seeing at the door, opened halfway seeing his assistant on his lap, her dress pulled up, and his pants pulled to his ankles. Doyoung's eyes widened, glancing at the girl who had taken his cock. You closed the door, making sure nobody behind you had seen.

You shook your head, trying to get the visions out of your mind and to keep going. But all that was racing through your mind was the disgusting pictures playing through your mind. You didn’t think sex was disgusting. But when you watched someone you liked doing it, it got hundreds of times more abominable and atrocious than just watching porn. You had immediately set off to find that women again, you had been having a nice conversation with her before this whole mess started.

And then not so long after he came out, leaving his assistent behind. It was amusing to you how composed he looked, it was as if nothing ever happened. He fixed his tie while looking around the fancy office searching for you. It was as if he wasn’t just being pleasured. Frankly, you didn’t care if he had sex, it was who it was with the mattered to you. You wanted that to be you, and only you.  He took long strides over to you, brushing his black hair from his eyes and standing in front of you and the women.

He bowed to the women, verbalizing something in Korean, before turning to your and motioning his head in another direction.

“Could I please talk to you Y/N?” His eyes looked everywhere but your eyes, too embarrassed to look at you.

“It’s okay Ms. Y/N, I’ll be fine.” Bashful about turning down Doyoung in front of someone in public, you had no choice but go with him, and you weren’t looking forward to what he was going to discuss with you.

Pulling you into an empty corridor, he heaved a heavy sigh and knotted his finger in his hair. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” He whispered quietly. “I didn’t mea—”

“It’s fine, luckily I found you and not somebody else.” You felt defiled, dirty even, awaken to what scandalous deed you two were actually doing.

“Yeah, but still, I don’t know how I would feel If I saw you bein—Why did you take your necklace off? It looked nice.” You felt like hitting him very, very hard. If you don’t know how you would feel, then why do it?

“It’s not like we’re dating Doyoung, it doesn't matter.”

Everyone at the meeting was praising you, but even with recognition from everyone in the world, if you didn’t have Doyoung’s you weren’t satisfied. He shrugged, after hearing from you.

“I guess your right,” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “But why did you take it off?”

“I think pearls aren’t for me,” You trailed off. “But what about the symbolization, didn’t you say it promoted centeredness and such. “

“Loyalty actually.” Doyoung nodded, his big brown eyes soft as he looked at you. He didn’t say anything, making your uncomfortable under his stare. “Like I said, I don’t think they’re for me. And I should get going.” You started to walked away, but his grip on your waist stopped you.

“Is Ji-Su bothering you? I heard what happened before I got to the meeting.”

His stare held concern and a twinge of sadness, continuing to search for your shifty eyes.

“She seems nice.” You complimented. “When she isn’t acting like a bitch.”

“I’ll fire her,” He blurted out shifting on his feet awkwardly. “If you don’t like it, I mean. I’ll fire her. You have to come here, and I don’t want it to be unbearable.”

You turned to look down the corridor at the elevator. “Yeah, well, my work here is done. I need to get home.”

It’s funny how things like this work. One moment you’re a struggling college student and the next you’re a world-renowned photographer, loved by artists and models. Now you were in Japan taking landscape photos and plant photos for Do-young's new computer system, trying to find the perfect default screensavers. That day after you caught Doyoung, you got home and threw yourself into your photography, being able to get more fine art pieces out, before you esteemed Calvin Klein campaign you were shooting a week later.

Doyoung had said he wanted to come with you, that he would be arriving a day after you in Japan to help choose things to photograph. But it’s been four days in Japan and four weeks since you’ve seen him.  You figured like always that he was either busy with work or with one of his other whores.

But maybe they weren’t as dumb as you, breaking his first rules and actually starting to like him. This was a deal, a partnership, not a thing for you to break your heart over. He had money to throw away, which is probably why he was letting girls take his money so easily. He was in fact, despite what he says, a very, very lonely man. Even with all the girls on his side,, there was no denying there was a void inside his lonely heart.  Sometimes you asked yourself why you stayed with him. And then you realized that you had no desire to leave because you would be just as lonely as him.

When it read eleven PM on the illuminated digital clock, you knew he either didn’t care or simply forgotten. It was most likely the fact he didn’t care. You set the teapot on the stove of Doyoung's unused Japan vacation house and set it at a low heating level, letting the fruit tea settle in the sifter. You heard the door slam, and the familiar footsteps of Doyoung’s dress shoes. You turned around, his hair was disheveled, but his suit remained classic and elegant. He stormed towards you, passing the dining table and living room to get to the kitchen.

“I’m so so sorry Y/N,” He pushed you into the counter, brushing the hair from your face.  He was out of breath as if he just ran here. He kissed you suddenly. The smack of your lips filled the room as he continued to kiss you. And then he put both hands on your waist, steadying himself and his kisses changed, something you never got from him before. He kissed you slowly, passionately. His hands roamed up your body and cupped your throat, moving to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” Your arms tangled up around his neck, wanting it, wanting him.

“You’re always sorry,” You mumbled on his lips, kissing him slowly again.

“I mean it this time. I do.”

“Mmm,” You joked, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. His fingers were like matches to your skin, even a graze lit you on fire.

You knew he didn’t love you back or even like you. But you didn’t care, you couldn't resist his touch. He pulls away softly, brushing his lips against yours again. It wasn’t sexual, no, it was innocent as if he was having his first kiss again.

“Doyoung what’s wrong with you.”

“Nothing.” He kissed your cheek, a defensive lilt in his voice. His kisses traveled down your neck towards your ear. “I just missed you so much.” You couldn't believe him.

“Are you sure? Where have you been?”

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but all I want right now is to fuck you. Can you do that?” He said a little annoyed. But you didn’t listen to the annoying part, you listened to how scared he was.

“Yeah baby, we can.”

In an instant, he grabbed the underside of your thighs, pushing you onto the counter and tearing your sweatpants down your legs. Trying equally as hard to pull off your pink panties you wore just in case for scenarios like this. He peeled your legs from each other and looked down at you, the most exposed you. He ran his dainty finger over your slit all the way to your clit. He looked pulled your legs above his shoulders, leaning down slowly and coming face to face with your heat. He kitty licked you slowly. You squirmed at the feeling, waiting for him to do more to you. He didn't always eat you out, he used it as a reward system, but you didn’t know what you did that was worthy of his reward. And then he pushed his head into you, his tongue darting deeper and deeper inside of you, licking up your wetness that he started to create.

In pleasure, you took a fistful of his black hair, pushing his head further, you could hear his muffled moans as you did. His mouth was placed gently of your clit, sucking and darting your tongue under the little hood. You bucked your hips into him, your legs beginning to shake against his broad shoulders. And then he pushed two fingers inside of you.  Gasping at the sensation, a high moan leaves your lips.  With every thrust of his fingers, you feel yourself reaching your climax.

“C’mon baby, come for me.” And just as he said that you came onto his fingers, your juices quickly being lapped up by his tongue. You were never good with polyamorous relationships, you got too jealous for your own good. You didn’t want anyone else being pleasured by Doyoung but you, and you wanted to be the only one to touch him. He pushed your legs off of him, glancing at you momentarily, before taking his lips onto yours.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered his breath on your lips. You nodded slowly, feeling him grab your thighs and lift you up in his muscular arms. You turned your head and glanced at the counter, there was still a small pool of come next to the stove, and you suddenly became hyper-aware of how wet you were. You could be dripping onto Doyoung right now, or even on the floor.  Nevertheless, he carried you to the Japanese bedroom.

The room was nearly pitch black except for the tiny leak of moonlight that spilled into the room. Something about him now was so gentle, the way he lightly set you down and watched you as he took off his clothes, peeling the black suit off his body. He did it early slow, observing your body furthermore. You sat up, waiting for him.

And when he sat down on the bed, fully naked except for his black boxers, you threw your legs on either side of him and got comfortable on his lap, continuing the slow, fervid kissing. He moaned into the kisses, his hands moving to your ass, to your hips, all over the place.

Ever so slowly, you place both your hands on his chest and pushed him down until he was lying on his back. You kissed and licked behind his ear, nibbled on his lobe, and kissing down his jawline to his cheek.  You could feel the beautiful man’s clothed member hit your bare pussy, and you wanted him, you had wanted him so many times before this. But now, you didn’t just want to fuck him, you wanted to make love. And although you didn’t know quite what that was, you thought you could do it with, you thought you could find it.

You kissed his bare chest, worshipping every part of his body you came across until you got to his boxers. You took his boxers off, sliding them down his legs while your head followed, kissing his thighs, the inside of his knees. And now that the boxers were gone, you were going to take what you wanted for a long time.

You put your hand on his shaft. Feeling it smooth and under your touch. You stroked it gently. Up and down. It needed lubrication and I had just the perfect thing. Beads of pre-cum oozed from his head, licking it up with your velvety tongue. Doyoung mumbled something in Korean, looking down at you and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Circling it slowly in your mouth, you moaned on his cock, finally feeling it in your mouth after months. He was smooth under your tongue, probing the tip and igniting every nerve. You licked lower, beneath the head and all the way down to the shaft. You massaged his balls in your hands, and slowly took his laugh in your mouth.

He was a good six inches, but a thick six inches, which was probably why he felt so good. To you, there was nothing better than a thick above average sized cock. You bobbed your head, moving up and down, hollowing out your mouth. You wanted him to make you his favorite, nobody could do it like you.

He pushed your head down, you could feel the tip of his cock hit your throat eliciting a gag, but you regained a hold of yourself. And soon you weren’t in control anymore, it was him, pushing your head up and down along his cock. Moaning words of encouragement to make him come. Then he stopped, slowly sitting up, prompting you to mirror his actions. He let you steady yourself on his lap, holding onto his shoulders.

“You have the mouth of a slut,” he whispered into your ear. “In and out of my beds.”  He kissed down your neck and moved the strap of your tank top. “Take your shirt off, princess.” 

His fingers played with the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it out. Luckily you wore no bra and you were completely naked in front of Doyoung. He took your breasts in his hand, kneading them roughly as you moaned. He chuckled a little, capturing your lips and kissing you.

He took your nippled between his fingers, rolling them over and making them hard.

“You’re so sexy princess,” He whispered, bringing your nipple to his mouth and sucking on it slowly, holding eye contact. You grabbed onto his shoulders, throwing your head back and moaning.

His slender fingers traced around the area, grabbing your tit and sucking softly, moving to the other breast.

His mouth hovered over you, his hot breath washing over your just-kissed skin. He squeezed your nipple again, while he took the other in his mouth, with enough force so you barely had time to register the pain. He left a couple hickeys. His hand gliding over your side and look down at where your bare pussy met his pelvis.

“Are you going to ride me, princess?” You nodded, getting up on your knees and holding onto his shoulders so he could position himself to enter you. You didn’t ride him a whole lot, it was when he was at work sitting in his chair or tired, maybe even a little vulnerable that he let you ride him. It meant having you in control, and he didn’t like that. He was a CEO, he wanted to be in control.

A stuttered groan came from Doyoung, reaching for your hips guiding your up and down as you made out slowly. He kept biting your lips and squeezing your ass. He leaned back a little, watching his cock plunge deep into your pink pussy.

You sped up, harshly slamming down on his cock, prompting high moans, and low moans.

A guttural moan released from his throat, he through his head in your neck and kissed you there, pleasure clouding his actions as he groaned at the feeling of your pussy.  You loved how he acted when he was being pleasured, it was as if he couldn't take what you were giving him, he acted helpless, sometimes desperate.

You started fucking faster, Doyoung was meeting you halfway, slamming into your further, his thick cock stretching you out even more. You almost screamed, gripping on his shoulders and digging your nails into him. He moaned, flipping you quickly so he was on top of you.

“You’re marking me now?” He growled in your ear.

One thing he hated was being marked, that was one of his rules. Don’t mark him. You always thought it was because he was a businessman and he never wanted people to see it. But that wasn’t it. He must have liked being marked since he did it to you a lot, but even if you accidentally left bruises. “You can’t help yourself can you.” He took one hard thrust into you, making you whine out in pain and pleasure. You felt his warm seed fill you up a chain of profanities leaving his mouth. It came in spurts, one creaming into you, and the other shooting hard. His breath grew ragged and he whined out.

He gripped your hips. He wanted to fuck your harder. And he fucked you until you came, but he didn’t stop, he kept going, despite the fact he knew you had never gone farther when getting fucked with a cock. He increased speed as you held with him each thrust. He pushed into you so hard his breath got even shakier.

You were both panting, whining. Way over your breaking point, but you liked it. You wanted to come again. Even though Doyoung was at his wit's end, he wouldn't stop pushing himself until you came again, until you couldn't take his cock anymore. Your legs began to shake, they usually did whenever you had sex with Doyoung, and you came all over his cock. It was too much, he had fucked you to hard and too thoroughly. He pulled out of you slowly, watching your face relax.

You fell next to you, sitting up slowly and glancing over. You took heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow then. What hotel are you staying at?” You said, reaching over and snatching his black pants off the ground. He took them from you but didn’t make any advances to get up or put them on.

“Actually…” He said softly, reaching his long arms over to grab his boxers. “I think I want to stay the night.”  He glimpsed at you shyly, asking for some seal of approval.

“Why?” He was silent, getting up momentarily to pull his black boxers up his legs. “Doyoung, what’s wrong?”

You asked the questions knowing he wouldn't be able to answer the question. He wasn’t good at articulating his emotions. He didn’t like putting himself out there, he didn’t like feeling vulnerable or looking at it. But he just ended up looking vulnerable anyways, keeping everything bottled up.

“You’re the only one,” he said whispering.

He wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead, his face illuminated from the moonlight. “What?”

“I want you.” He said more firmly. “I want you.” “Again? I mean we can go for one mo—” “No,” he stopped you, looking into your eyes softly. “I want you.” You finally knew what he meant. That he wanted you just a little more than what he was getting. That this sex was good, but he wanted a little more.

“Do you like me?” You asked, seeing him nod no slowly. But you knew he liked you, he admitted right then and there. “Do you love me?” He looked away from you, a shaky sigh leaving his mouth.

“I—”

“You don’t have to say it… if you do, you don’t have to say it.”

Love is a beautiful and scary thing all at the same time. For someone like Doyoung, he’s never tied down, so feeling something like that was new to him. Saying it to someone was weird and otherworldly. It made him feel vulnerable and you knew that. Baring out your heart and soul might leave you prone and vulnerable to hurt and pain, but sometimes taking the risk and letting it all out is one of the most amazing things that you’ll be able to experience. Doyoung needed his time, and he didn’t need to say it to you for you to know he did love you. He showed by his actions. Like the beautiful pearl necklace he got, and the relentless sorries he would always give.

So as he got up, pulling the covers off the bed and slipping in right before you did. A whisper left his lips.

“Thank you.”

And that’s how you knew he did. That’s how you knew he felt the same back. That you weren't just fucking him all this time, you were making love.

[quirk--y-blog]

hey there. my brother and i love your kacchako kids. the creativeness and thought that goes into the characters are what we admire most. my brother is really curious to learn more about the tododeku child Taeko. like what’s her quirk and her story? thank you so much and we love your drawings and stories for the characters!!

Thank you so much!! But I want to make it clear that those drawings are NOT MINE I commissioned them all from my friends @starcasticmess​ and @kacchako​ please go support their work!! It’s all amazing

So Taeko

As stated before, Taeko is the younger of Izuku and Shouto Midoriya’s adoptive daughters, the older being a girl named Chiyori. When they were younger, Taeko was Chiyori’s shadow. Chiyori was six years older than her little sister but loved her, adored her, and the two of them were inseparable as children. However, despite Taeko’s closeness with her sister and her fathers, she always had trouble making connections outside of her family. Taeko has always been very quiet and withdrawn from her peers, becoming the child in the back of the classroom reading or drawing alone. This made the other children see her as “weird” and Taeko struggled to make friends throughout her school experience and what connections she did manage to build were never very strong. 

The reasoning for this disconnect with her peers stems from her quirk. Taeko has the ability to switch bodies with anyone she touches with her hands, she has very little control of this quirk, meaning she can switch bodies with anyone she may even accidentally touch. To prevent this, Taeko wears gloves at all times, but due to several incidences she had when she was younger and before she was adopted, she developed a fear of her quirk and the violation it could cause, and so she has become afraid of physical touch. 

However, Taeko does deeply care about others, while she does not want to be a hero, she does want to help people. Her dream is to become a doctor, to heal those after they have been saved. This dream seems impossible, due to her fear of physical touch and her inability to truly connect with other people because of it. She, however, has not given up, her family has been doing their best to encourage her to branch out, but it’s a slow process. Now that she has begun her first year of general studies at U.A, it is now or never.

(I’m SO GLAD someone asked about Taeko, she is one of my favorites. I’ve reworked her slightly, but I think her fear of connecting with people both physically and emotionally while wanting to be a doctor combined with the nature of her quirk could be very interesting if I handle it properly. If I was to ever write my next gen AU, Taeko would be a major player.) 

(Also a little thing I’ve added to this AU that has no bases in canon is that UA expands its departments a little. It adds things to general studies that still relate to heroism for the kids that want to be involved but their quirks are not suited for actual hero work, some of these new classes involve medicine and such pertaining to hero work, so specializing in treating heroes and civilians rescued by them. Basically it’s trauma medicine but hero-focused, this is what Taeko is studying)

[secret-rendezvous1d]

D E C E M B E R  2 N D

REQUEST Are you doing Alex requests for Blogmas? If so, maybe his and Y/N's first Christmas together since the war and he decides to propose to her?

The first AU of Blogmas and it just had to be Alex - our little, strong-willed but absolutely adorable darling.

A little something different to the original storyline and I’m so pleased with how this one has turned out; it’s probably my favourite one, at the moment, and I hope that you all think positively of this one. There could be some flaws in this one, because the history of the war has never been my strong suit, but I’ve done as much research as I could in order to make this as perfectly factual as possible - and I hope you guys enjoy it.

Feedback is welcomed, as always - please let me know what you think of my pieces, send me any constructive criticism you think would help out, any ways to make my writing better, anything. It really helps me and keeps me motivated to write and we get to work as a team to make things better, for me to write and for you to read.

Enjoy. xx

2 3 r d  D e c e m b e r , 1 9 4 5 .

Alex halted in the entryway.

Fingers working on rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, made from a thick cotton that drowned his upper body and hung loose around the curves that she wished he showed off more often then when he hid them away, that had untucked from his tweed trousers during his afternoon nap. His feet no longer in his wool socks and now slipped into a pair of slippers, smaller than his usual shoe size and barely fitting his foot properly - slippers that she liked to nick when she nipped outside to take the bins out or to put the washing out if the day was delightful or to grab the newspaper from the end of their pathway when the paperboy had dropped it off on his cycle down their street. And he must have slept longer than he had expected himself to sleep because, by the time he opened his eyes and took in the state of the bedroom, the afternoon had turned into night and the natural light that filtered into the room had turned into darkness, with all but a slither of light creeping under the gap of the bedroom door. The house was unusually silent from any chatter, because his sister liked to pop by on her way home from work at this time of the early-evening, and there was no static coming from the speakers, that would usually be switched on whilst his wife cooked dinner, and he had noticed that the television was switched off when he scuffed through the living room.

Before him was a sight that he had always adored.

On their first Christmas spent together, two years before the second world war had broke out, he had unintentionally walked in on his mother teaching her how to make Christmas decorations. After a walk out with his father to collect wood for their open-fire and to stop off at the shops to see if there was anything they could feast upon. Catching them rummaging through scraps of old newspaper from his father’s collection and crumpled pieces of paper that were covered in scribbles and Sunday shopping lists and addresses belonging to his mother’s friends that were sitting in piles on the tiny kitchen table, set beside mugs of warm tea and biscuits that Anne had brought home from her shift at the bakery on the corner of the street. A chainlink of circles, made from torn strips of paper and long enough to hang over the edge of the table, as they shared personal stories - and no doubt stories about Alex and his childhood - and giggled amongst themselves.

On their second Christmas spent together, they were in their own home and settling in as a couple who were taking the next step of their life together. He failed to notice how his newspapers went missing until he caught YN, sitting at the table with cake on a plate and scissors in her hand and the radio playing a beautiful rendition of ‘Winter Wonderland’, with sticky fingers and paper stuck to her fingertips and humming along to the merry melody filling the warm kitchen. And it dawned on him, in that moment, that he could never find his paper after he read the headlines because she took his papers soon after he was done with his morning bathroom routine. A homemade chain link curled up on the chair beside her, another hung above the kitchen door as she worked on another... that had been made too-long and she ending up draping it over her shoulders to give herself more space.

What they had expected to be their third Christmas spent together, and having made plans to have both families join them for Christmas and feeling the excitement of being with everyone that they considered their nearest and dearest, had been brutally torn away from them with a sudden announcement that England was going to war... again. That all young men were due to be drafted off in September with no given date as to when they would be arriving home. YN didn’t know when she was going to see her loverboy again, Anne didn’t know when she was going to see her son again, Gemma didn’t know when she was going to see her brother again and Alex didn’t know whether he was going to come home safe and uninjured... and he could bear to think about whether he would die fighting for his country or whether he would come back as a brave soldier who helped save their country. Never to spend Christmas with his girl again. Never to eat a delicious dinner that she managed to cook up from whatever they had in their fridge.. Never to playfully scold her for taking his newspapers after he read them. Never to see her make paper chains and call for him so he could pin them to the ceiling. Never to kiss her under the mistletoe again.

Before him was a sight that he had longed to see when he was deeply hidden in a dug-out trench and surrounded by blown pieces of shrapnel, dead bullets that had missed a target and the dead bodies of soldiers he would smile at in the mornings, share soup with at lunch and who he would sit beside at night and share a blanket with as the weather turned south and brought an horrific chill to the air. A sight that kept him going when things got tough, when things got to a point where all he wanted was to give up and cower away and because he was determined to make it home safe, alive and well, to spend the festivities with those who he loved and adored and missed. A sight that seemed to be his guardian angel; all he needed to think about was her and his strength had been regained. To fight the bastards that never showed signs in giving up.

YN, deep in her creative mind and dressed in a beautifully-bright sundress (despite how cold and nippy the weather was outside), making the paper chains that his mother had taught her how to make.

“So,” he hummed lowly, hands clasped behind his back as he leant against the doorframe of their kitchen, “this is where my morning papers go in December, huh?”

YN glanced over her shoulder and blushed a deep magenta pink, darker than the speckled flecks of pink in the pattern of her sundress, as she took in his rugged yet sleepy appearance; his tousled hair that looked knotted and stood in all directions and curled around his earlobes, after having grown longer in the few months he’d been home from fighting, and his deep green eyes were bleary and misty and made him look disorientated. His pigeon-toed feet, that were clad in his slippers, making him look clumsy. 

“It was folded up and placed on the kitchen table this morning. I thought you were finished with it,” she admitted, her eyes widening in sudden realisation, and he scuffed across the wood floor of their tiny home with a hearty chuckle hissing between his clenched teeth. The wind blowing and howling outside, rattling the windows of the kitchen, rustling the trees of their garden and blowing thin and crispy leaves through the air. “Were you not finished with it?”

“I only had the crossword to do. Was going to do it in bed tonight when we settled down,” he spoke softly, rubbing his belly before cupping her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His nose deeply inhaling the flowery smell of her perfume that seemed to follow her and fill any room with an inviting aroma. “What are you doing anyway? I thought you would have come and joined me during my nap. Never pass up on a sleep in this weather.”

“You looked pretty tired when you came home from your shift at the florist so I thought I’d let you sleep for a little bit,” she tilted her head back and looked up at him, smiling widely at the slight stubble that looked scruffy and sprouted from his skin in patches along his jawline. His lips looking a delicious pink and a dribble of toothpaste seemed to have caught at the corner of his mouth from that morning; that he must have missed because it was a little speck but didn’t seem to miss her eyes. He looked refreshed and it felt nice to have him home. “You deserve some uninterrupted sleep and I had lots to do anyway.”

“Lots to do like... tearing up my newspaper?”

“I’m actually making some Christmas decor for the house. Your family are coming around tomorrow and our home doesn’t look... christmas-y yet, does it?” She informed him, frowning as his presence disappeared from behind her, swivelling in her chair to watch him reach up for his mug in the cupboard above the cooker. “I think your mum would like to see it a little more decorated, don’t you? She gave up decorating when the war started because she was needed at the factory and I went to see her last week and there was nothing around the house that screamed Christmas.”

His body leaned over the counter as he reached for the kettle, left beneath a knitted tea-cosy that YN must have made whilst he was away from home, for whenever either of them fancied a beverage to warm them up from the bitterness in the air. A bitterness that billowed in from the cracks in the wood of their window panes, came from down the chimney because they hadn’t covered it up, and from the gaps at the bottom of their front door that he had been meaning to fix - but that was before he was sent for physicals and drafted as a soldier. She didn’t have the heart to remind him that he needed to be a domestic boyfriend because he’d lost a lot of strength in the six years he was away. 

“Not everyone wants to jump back into the Christmas happiness when the war has only just finished. Only months ago were people fighting for their lives in gunfire,” he bit back and she couldn’t help but let her eyes fall to the ground as she felt guilt slither through her veins. The clang of the lid closing echoing around the room and making her jump as she jerked in her seat yet didn’t bottle enough courage to look at him. “People lost loved ones, YN. They lost friends, brothers, boyfriends, husbands. Families are broken up. Their first Christmas without their loved ones. We might have been one of the lucky few families but-” he scoffed heavily as he set the kettle down on the cooker, allowing the water to heat up, and spun around swiftly, fingers tugging on his hair with the sudden burst of anger that broke free. His usual reflex when he felt angry. “-But some people weren’t so lucky. Mum is sensitive about this. The first world war broke her to bits because she lost her father so close to the end. She was probably terrified to have lost me in the fight. My death would have been out of my control.”

A shaky sigh left his mouth before he looked at her; her eyes watering and her bottom lip fighting the urge to keep quivering, biting back tears as she refused to let them fall. Refused to make him feel guilt for a burst of emotion that he couldn’t control himself. His heart thudding in his chest.

“Oh, darling-”

“No, Alex. I understand,” she whispered. Her eyes slowly driving up his body; from his slipper-clad feet to the tweed knees of his trousers to the twiddling of his thumbs to the soft expression that took over his features when he realised he’d spoken so coldly to her. His arms stretching out and his fingers wiggling as he offered them for her to hold - something she couldn’t have left him hanging over - and she gladly accepted. Pulling herself up with his help, of course, he brought her to his chest and laid a kiss to her hairline. “I didn’t know about your grandfather.”

“Mum never really speaks about it. I don’t think she grieved properly and,” he sighed and rested his chin upon her head. She knew his sentence had come to an end and she couldn’t find it within her to ask him to go further. “He was amazing. Did so much for us when we needed it so it was a horrible time when we got a telegram. Well, when mum received the telegram. She broke down and it was the worst we’d ever seen her. She cried and cried, changed into a different person, and we were sure she’d never come back to being our mother again.”

He supposed that was another reason why he fought so hard to stay alive.

He couldn’t bear to make his mother feel that worst kind of heartache again. He didn’t want her to break down and go through an episode of pure upset and sadness, that put herself in danger and meant her motherly instincts would dribble away and Gemma would need to pick up the pieces. And if he couldn’t bear to think about his mother feeling that way, because of his death, then he couldn’t ever think about YN going through that.

He didn’t want to think about that.

YN never thought about how she would feel if he never came home; it crossed her mind but she refused to delve deep into where her mind would take her when she was alone with her thoughts. Of course, she would grieve over his loss and cry that they never experienced the life they had always spoken about and she would scream about how unfair it was that he was taken away from her - because all the good people were taken from the world and it just wasn’t fair to those who never deserved it - because she always envisioned a future that involved him, children she made with him, growing old with him, and dying with him after a well-lived life that was full of stories and anecdotes to tell their grandchildren. Watching the world change, adapt for the better, all because of him.

And she couldn’t have felt any more thankful than when she watched him step off the train at the train station.

*

3 R D  S E P T E M B E R , 1 9 4 5.

The train whistled as it approached the station and it took everything within YN to stop herself from following a randomly-chosen carriage until the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. She stood upon her tiptoes - toes which were hidden behind a pair of daisy-covered clogs - as her eyes scanned each and every face, of each and every soldier, that she could see behind the dirty, mud-smeared windows of each carriage that blurred past. Wives, mothers and daughters standing around her, all dressed to the nines and making it a difficulty for her to push her way to the edge of the platform so she could be easily seen if Alex stepped off.

If.

When Winston Churchill’s voice had announced that the end of the war had come to its highly anticipated end, Alex was the first person she had thought of; the man she had kissed before he was sent off to fight in Dunkirk when the war had begun, the man she had helped nurse back to health through his tiny traumas and injuries and his shell-shock that knocked him for six, the man who had allowed her to cry into his neck and cuddle against him when he was called back to fight in the war and had been the only man she hadn’t seen, but had been all she had thought about, for four years.

Four years of survival, herself, and four years of praying and hoping that Alex had survived himself.

With an horrific creak that seemed to stop everyone, who stood on the platform and crowded the exits, in mid-sentence, the doors had opened and in an orderly fashion, like they had been taught during their training, they disembarked the vehicle with eyes searching high and low. Each time she prayed and hoped that he was the next one off, that she would see his tall figure duck down beneath the frame and look for her amongst the many strange faces. And each time she felt a trickle of hope slip away; the chance of him stepping off was one in a thousand... and there were plenty of people around to have her debate the chances.

And there he was.

The twentieth man off the coach - not that she was counting or anything.

Eyes wide as they searched the crowd of patient families who were rocking back and forth with excitement to welcome their loved ones back on home soil. His hair a mess, knotted upon his head and longer than it had been when she last saw him, a face full of scruff because shaving was a luxury that they were lucky to have had in the trenches, and his olive-coloured skin was no longer full of colour and looked pale, tired and jaded, a face smeared and caked with an amount of dirt that seemed to have become a second skin from how thickly it clung to him.

“Alex!”

His head snapped to the left, noticing an arm and a waving hand thrown up in the air, with a dotted sleeve that he knew belonged to his girl. A head bobbing up and down as she jumped on her feet and grinned at him, his boots scuffing across the tarmac as the crowd subconsciously made a path for him to shuffle down. His body language full of trepidation as he opened his arms and went to give her a hug. She looked so beautiful, so elegant and he looked rough and was covered in muck that he was sure would stain her gorgeous dress.

“Alex,” she whispered, taking control as she jumped from her place and wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs hooking around his waist as he cupped her thighs and twirled them both around in the minimal space they had available. The feeling of watching eyes, belonging to the strangers around them, didn’t bother them because he was back. Back with her, back home, back to love her, make love to her, to comfort her when she needed a hug and a cuddle in front of the fire and he was back kiss her when she fancied a kiss - thinking about them no longer worried her because she could have them for real, now. “God, I missed you. I missed you, Alex. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, darling,” he cooed softly. And after promising himself that he wouldn’t cry when he saw her, he couldn’t help but let a tear slide down his cheek and dribble into the material upon her shoulder. “I’m home. I’m back home,” he sobbed, eyes stinging which only enticed more tears to break free - his strong personality deteriorating as he pushed his face into her neck and cried with her. Fingers raking through his hair as she undid knots and felt how straggly it had become. “I’m back with you, darling. I’m here. The war, it’s over and I’m back.”

“You’re back,” she squeaked and he chuckled wetly, warm breath hitting her exposed neck, “you’re really back. You’re here.”

She leant back, with the support of his arms holding her to his front, and cupped his face with her shaking hands. Palms holding his cheeks, fingers tickling behind the shells of his ears and her thumbs rubbing his cheeks, outlining his plump lips and stroked his eyebrows upon his browline. He looked different; mature and older and... happier.

“I love you,” she swallowed a sob and smiled, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he laughed, forehead knocking against hers whilst their noses bumped, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

*

“I’m never leaving you again. Okay? I’m never leaving you alone again,” he informed her boldly, pulling away from her hug but still leaving his hands upon her hips. Fingers scratching against the material before hooking into the belt of her dress. “I’m staying here, with you, until we’re forced apart. Until someone has to physically take me away from you. Until one of us gets bored with the other. And I can only hope that that never happens because I love you. I love being with you, living with you, love calling you my girlfriend and I love showing you off. Love dancing with you at that god-awful diner down the road and I love holding you and loving you so perfectly. I’m so happy with you, I adore you and-”

He paused suddenly.

A pregnant pause that she wasn’t expecting.

And when she tilted her head back, his face was pinched with a look of thinking and it seemed like he wasn’t expecting himself to pause, either. His mind wracking in his pretty head as his mouth stayed open on the last syllable that had left his mouth; if he was going to say something else, she wished he would say it now because he was confusing her...

“Alex?” She asked wearily, gulping nervously as she wiggled in his hold and bent her elbows, placing her hands upon the backs of his. Fingers curling around his wrists and guiding them away from her body. Eyes scanning his face. “Alex, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

“I’m-” he grinned widely and held her hands tightly, “I’m so happy with you, I adore you... and, Christ, I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife, I want to be your husband, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to give you a wedding you deserve, in a church that you choose and with our friends and our families surrounding us. I want to grow old with you, I want to work hard to give you what you deserve and I want to have a family with you,” he watched her eyes go big, circular and showing a ring of white around the coloured orbs that homed her pupils. He knew it wasn’t a good proposal; he didn’t even have a ring, for goodness sake!

But it felt right.

And there was no way he would take his proposal back. There wasn’t a single other woman that he could picture himself spending his life with; YN was the one he had fallen for, the one who was the first girlfriend to meet his family and the one who he loved more than anything, the one he changed to impress and the who he would dream about and look forward to seeing after a hard day, the one who had looked after him when he struggled with shell-shock and could dream of nothing but war and being back on the frontline. She’d been there through so much of his life and he’d been there through so much of her life, even though six years were spent apart with no means of contact but the odd letter they were allowed to write and read, and he couldn’t bear to lose her. 

She was it for him.

“Marry me, YN?”

“Marry- you-” she took a sharp intake of breath and covered her mouth with a hand she tore from his hold, “Alex-”

“YN, you mean more to me than anyone. I love you, you love me, we’ve spent so many years of our life as a couple, so why don’t we get married? You always agree when people say we act like we’re already married so why not make it official?” He queried. A look of confusion, possible upset ( he was preparing for heartache because he’d be broken if she said no...) and hope mingling on his features as he waited for an answer. Granted, he knew it was almost a life-changing question that would take huge amounts of thinking but it was painstaking and he needed to know. “Marry me, YN?”

“You’re sure?” She wondered, reaching a hand to cup his cheek and touching his wrinkled forehead. His head nodding up and down. “You really want me to be your wife till the end of time? The one who scolds you for not closing the fridge or not covering the kettle?” And it was in that moment that he remembered - he still hadn’t made his tea and the water was beyond boiling now, most likely, but that could wait because their future was on the cards. He nodded profusely; nothing more. “I love you and-” she pressed up on her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “yeah, let’s get married, baby.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and cackled happily, twirling the both of them around in the open space of their kitchen as she squealed and dug her fingers into his hair. Scratching his scalp and tugging on the knots of his bed-head. No watching strangers to stare at them as they revelled in the excitement of life; a strong deja-vu moment that classed this as the second happiest moment of their lives.

“My wife,” he whispered into her ear and his smile felt bold and prominent against her ear. “my bride-to-be.”

[lovelylunarwriting]

Doyoung Prince!AU

Prince Kim Doyoung’s kingdom is an empire of knowledge and scholars. The nation has a strong focus on maintaining quality education, keeping the people knowledgeable, and building some of the largest libraries to ever exist.

Although there are many massive libraries scattered across the country, by far the biggest one is the Royal Literature Hall. It’s so large that an entire wing of the castle is just that library.

This Royal Literature Hall is where Prince Doyoung, sometimes reluctantly, spends most of his time. As the crown prince and next in line to the throne, he’s always wanted to know more.

More about his kingdom’s history, more about his kingdom’s relations with the other nine nations, and more about his people. What the people need, how he could help them… the list goes on and on.

To sum it up, ever since he was told that he would be the next king, and not his older brother, Prince Doyoung has been s t r e s s e d.

He constantly feels the weight of the position of future king and the weight of his country on his shoulders.

It’s gotten so bad that he only sleeps a few hours a night, and even then, it takes him too long to get to sleep. His mind races from one issue to another, constantly trying to make up solutions. Inevitably, he has no epiphanies, and gets no sleep either.

He spends most days in the Royal Literature Hall, looking up one thing or another, whether it be historical war strategies or the medical advancements of another kingdom- it’s always something important, but ultimately not the most interesting.

But today, Doyoung's reading about the crop harvest summaries from the past seventy four years and oh my G O S H is he so bored.

So bored and yet he still can’t sleep because his mind is constantly racing.

Deciding that he’s had enough for the day, he borrowed some civilian clothes from his guard friend, Taeyong, gets dressed, and just walks out of the palace.

Upon making the long walk to town, he realizes that it's been two months since he’s set foot outside the castle.

For the first hour, Doyoung wanders around, strolling through the market, absently mindedly listening to people’s interactions.

The one thing that he notices is that almost every person he walked by is either talking about or carrying a copy of the newest hit novel “Shimmerlight”

In a nation built on books, for a novel to become popular isn’t uncommon, but this popular? That's kind of crazy.

Doyoung decides that he’ll check out the quality of this book himself.

He walks up to the first person he saw with the book and asks them where they purchased it.

“Oh, it’s in every bookstore! But if you want to talk to the author, I’d go to Honey Bee’s Buzzing Books”

Doyoung thanks the guy, and walks to where that bookstore is, following the directions given to him by the kind stranger.

All kinds of thoughts run through Doyoung’s mind. Why was the author at this bookstore? If they’re such a successful writer, why aren’t they living the good life in some villa instead of spending all day in some dusty store in town?

And why of all things, are they just available to talk? Don’t they have things to do? Go swimming in their piles of money, for example??

But then Doyoung checks himself, thinking “hey dumbass, you’re literally royalty and you’ve never seen a pool full of money, let alone jumped in”

By the time he’s done theorizing questions, he’s made it to the front steps of a cozy sized, old-timey bookstore, which he assumes has to be the famed Honey Bee’s Buzzing Books.

He hesitates walking in, but eventually does, immediately cringing at the sound of the bell ringing, announcing his presence.

“So much for keeping my head low”, he curses himself internally.

Just at that moment, a person (you) pops their head from around a bookshelf, and greets him with the biggest smile.

“Welcome to Honey Bee’s! How can I help you?, you ask the attractive young man that just entered your book store. You didn’t think you’d seen him before. No one could forget a face like that.

The awkward silence brings you out of your train of thought. He hasn’t responded to you at all- he’s just standing there, staring.

“Uhh, sir?”

“Sir? Oh gosh, don’t call me that. That makes me sound old”, he jokes.

“Okay, then what should I call you?”

“Doyoung. Call me Doyoung”

“Ooo, you’ve got the same name as the prince! How lucky for you, I’ve been told that he’s dreamy”

“He’s dreamy, huh? What else have you heard?”, he asks with a smirk.

“Well I’ve got a friend in the castle he says the prince is a hardass, but they’re known for being overly critical. I’m sure the prince is quite lovely. Anyway, have you come here with a specific book in mind?”

Doyoung: “Well, sort of. I’ve come here out of sheer curiosity. Have you heard of the novel Shimmerlight?”

You: “Heard of it! I practically wrote it”

Doyoung: “Really?”

You: “No like in all seriousness- I am the author. I literally wrote it”

Doyoung: “Oh, wow. So you wrote an entire novel, and you own this place?”

You: “Ah, this store isn’t mine. I work here to help out a friend- he’s the one who owns it. So you’re looking to buy my book?”

Doyoung: “Well, before I buy it, could you tell me a little about it? I’m not sure if your book is my kind of read”

You: “Of course I can! Here, come sit, I’ll go get some refreshments”, you say, leaving the cute stranger to go put on a pot of tea.

Doyoung’s used to being alone, and had never minded it before, but there's something so comforting and warm about you that makes him wish for you to come back sooner than later.

And his wish is granted as you stroll back over to the dainty table, with a teapot in one hand and two matching tea cups in the other.

Setting them down gently on the table, you excuse yourself once again and jog to the back room, your hair bobbing up and down as you run.

“Now we’re all set!”, you announce as you waltz up to the table, placing a plate of cookies and assorted sweets in front of the beautifully puzzled boy.

Doyoung: “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do all this for me”

You: “Of course I didn’t have to. I want to! Don’t worry about it and eat up, the cookies are baked fresh. They only came out of the oven about half an hour ago.

Doyoung: “Writing and baking? Is there anything you don’t do?”

You: “Exercise. It’s just not my thing”

Doyoung: “Yeah I get that, it’s not like I have much time for it anyways though”

You: “You don’t have time to exercise but you have time to investigate my book out of sheer curiosity?”

Doyoung: “Hey, you’re the one who just admitted to not exercising, don’t turn this on me”, he laughs.

His deadpan expression that he entered your store with is long gone, and replaced with the most gorgeous eye smile you’ve ever seen.

You hope he’ll stay long, you think to yourself, you heart beating a bit faster than before.

You: “Well let’s get straight into it! What do you want to know about my book?”

Doyoung: “Well, what is it about?”, he asked, the curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

Explaining your novel to people and just getting to talk about your ideas, characters, and creative process is one of your absolute favorite things to do. Your friend who owns Honey Bee’s always reminds you not to get carried away and bore people with blabbing about your stories, but you’ve always insisted on blabbing anyway to anyone who is willing to listen.

Most of the people who come in to talk to you are grannies and young kids. The grannies always try to set you up and introduce you to their sons, but you always manage to maneuver your way out of it as politely as you can.

At one point there was an elderly woman who was convinced that you were the perfect match for her son, and so you told her that you were interested in women to get her off your back.

The next day she came in with her daughter.

You didn’t try that strategy again.

Blabbing as your strong suit, this is exactly what you do in this current moment with Doyoung. You explain to him what the characters are like, their relationship to one another, and by the time that you’d described the many different aspects of the fantasy land you’d created, he’s… dozed off.

Was he really asleep?

He’d eaten half the cookies and drank two cups of tea, and you always kept the shop warm, especially during these winter months, so you assume it’s only natural that he could get drowsy.

You make the decision to not take him falling asleep while you were talking as a personal offense, and more as something flattering. To protect your pride, more than anything.

You go to the back room and grab a blanket out of the closet. Treading careful, as to not make any noise, you come back and delicately place the plush blanket around his broad shoulders.

He's completely out cold with his arms crossed on the table, and his head tilted to the side, resting on top.

In this moment he just looks so… peaceful. He came in to your shop looking exhausted and stressed, so you're glad that he's able to rest.

Your friend is going to kill you for this, but you close the store down way earlier than normal, so that no one could come in and the bell wouldn’t ring, waking him.

He looked like he needed sleep more than anything and you weren’t about to take that away from him, even if he was sleeping in the book store.

You sit behind the front counter and immersed yourself in the book you’d picked up a few days ago.

Honestly you think about sitting back in the seat across from him, but conclude that it would be a tad creepy if he woke up and you were just… there. Chillin.

Plus the table is right next to the window looking out on the streets and you didn’t want people getting the wrong idea when you would inevitably stare at him while he slept.

He’s so pretty, how could you not?

You finish the book, left with the feeling of wanting to read more of it, so you get up to see if you have the sequel somewhere around here.

As soon as you stand up, however, you heard someone outside shout “Lord Prince!”

And you freeze on the spot.

Someone shouting for the Prince? And a man named Doyoung in your store?

“No way, this isn’t a fucking disney movie”, you mumble in disbelief as the shouting man pounds on the door.

“Excuse me, you!”

“Calling me ‘you’? How rude”, you say to no one in particular as you unlock the door. The man hurries in and starts barging over quite loudly to Doyoung when your protective instincts kick in. You grab the man by the wrist, whipping him around to face you.

“I’m sorry but he’s asleep and you need to let him rest. He was exhausted when he came in, so please let him sleep at least a little longer”

“Do you realize who I am?”, the man asks.

“No but frankly, I don’t care. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days”, you argue.

“...you’re right about that. I don’t know the last time he’s slept for more than a few hours at a time”, the man sighs.

You let go of his wrist, relieved that he’ll let Doyoung rest. But then you think, “Why do I care so much?”

Not able to find a reason, you pass off the feeling as your patriotic concern for the well being of your country’s Prince.

But even you know that’s bullshit. You just weren’t ready to admit to yourself that you’re catching feelings for the p r i n c e for fucks sake.

You pull up a second chair behind the front counter, and bring this guy, who introduced himself as Johnny, the prince’s butler, tea and cookies, just as you had done for Doyoung. It’s the least you could do, since you're telling him to wait.

For once, you're the one listening to his stories. Johnny confides in you his worries about the prince’s physical and mental health, telling you how Doyoung has been working himself to the bone, trying to know everything possible in order to be a good king one day. He also tells you in more detail about how Doyoung hasn’t been able to fall asleep due to stressing out and worrying himself about the fate of his country, and his own capability to reign as a good and fair king.

“But my real question is, how did you get him to fall asleep? Please tell me you didn’t drug the cookies”, Johnny asks jokingly.

“I drugged no ones cookies. He came in because he was curious about the book I wrote, so I was telling him part of the storyline when he dozed off”

“So you told him a bedtime story, essentially?”, he rationalized.

“I’d like to think that my bestselling novel is of higher literary merit than a bedtime story but if that helps you explain what happened, then sure, but-”, you began to say very sarcastically before Johnny hushes you.

“Shh! He’s getting up!”

And that, he was. First Doyoung sits up, rubbing his eyes. He looks around the room with the most adorable panicked expression on his face, probably having forgotten where he was. Finally, he gets up and turns around, facing the two of you. Suddenly that panicked expression became more serious.

Doyoung: “What have you told them?”, he asks his butler sternly, as more of a command than a question.

You: “Nothing too terrible, Prince Doyoung, he’s not much of a gossip”, you reply lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Doyoung: “So you know that I’m… I wasn’t trying to-”

You: “Sweetheart, I do not care that you’re the prince. I do care that you let me call you dreamy to your face. Gosh, how embarrassing”

Doyoung: “You don’t… care?”

You: “No, why should I? You’re a person, aren’t you?”

Doyoung: “Well… yeah”, he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You: “So am I. So don’t think you’re getting special treatment, Prince Dreamy”

Doyoung: “Prince Dreamy?”

You: “I think it’s quite fitting, don’t you?”, you said playfully to Johnny, who gives a thumbs up, playing along. You assume it isn’t often that he gets the opportunity to pick fun at his prince.

Doyoung: “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult”, he comments, popping a cookie in his mouth.

You: “Well it’s either that or Prince Hardass, which would you prefer?”, you say nonchalantly. And with that, Doyoung chokes on the cookie, coughing and hitting his hand on his chest.

Doyoung: “You could’ve killed me!”

You: “Oh and I would be charged with treason and hanged for the killing of Prince Hardass. How tragic”

Johnny: “Tragic indeed”, laughing at your banter with the prince.

After a brief silence, the feeling of the room changed to something more serious, yet again.

Johnny: “I’m sorry for his majesty’s intrusion of your time, but the prince must now return to his duties. We’ll be on our way”

You: “It was no problem! It’s only been around… oh. Seven hours”, you say, checking your watch.

Doyoung stands there hesitantly, looking at you like he wants to say something but can’t.

You: “Oh, I know!”, you shout, standing up from your chair abruptly. You walk over to one of the towering shelves of books and pull down your novel from the top shelf. Grabbing a pen off the counter, you quickly write your signature on the inside cover and hand the book to Doyoung.

You: “You liked where the story was going, right? Now you can finish it!”

Doyoung: “Oh, um… thank you. How much is it?”

You: “Free of charge, Prince Dreamy. Don’t worry about it”

That particular comment makes his cheeks tint a bright shade of pink. You figure the crown prince isn’t used to being called dreamy to his face.

The two men leave the shop, the bell by the door ringing as the door slams behind them.

You miss the presence of the snarky prince, and decide to clean the shop to get your mind off of today’s craziness.

Doyoung on the other hand, was both happy and confused.

He knew three things.

One- That that was the first time he’d slept somewhat soundly in months.

Two- That your book sounds super interesting and he can’t wait to go back to the palace to read it.

And three- He’s pretty sure he’s crushing on you. Hard.

Something about you is just so… comfortable to him. You're welcoming even though he just barged into your store, you made cookies and tea for fucks sake, and you didn’t change your attitude or demeanor around him when you found out he’s the prince.

That last point meant a lot to him. Most people upon finding out his royal status made it their goal to suck up to him to get something from him. You on the other hand, roasted the hell out of him, and he’s pretty sure he loves you for it.

Johnny had ridden a carriage into town, so Doyoung didn’t get to walk back, like he usually prefers to. Going for a walk clears his mind, and his mind could use quite a lot of clearing.

The entire ride back, he thinks about something other than the future of his country for once- he thinks about you.

And even when he gets back to the palace, he can’t manage to get you off his mind. Which although it’s sweet, for Doyoung’s focus it’s problematic.

Johnny informs Doyoung that he should finish his reading on fruit harvests and then call it a day.

So there Doyoung sits- at his usual spot in the Royal Literature Hall, staring blankly at the words on the pages and pages of harvest reports.

If he couldn't focus before, he definitely can't focus now.

“It's just a crush, just a stupid crush”, he mutters to himself while pushing away the stack of papers.

“I'll just read their book and get them out of my system. I'll get over these brief feelings when I finish the story”, Doyoung tells himself, pulling out the book you'd given him earlier in the day.

Placing it carefully on the table, he flips to the first page.

And then the second page.

And by the time he's gotten to the two hundred and fifty sixth page, he's fallen asleep yet again, his face resting in the crease of the book, his nose acting as the perfect bookmark.

Little did he know that his butler, Johnny, had come back to make sure Doyoung had finished his task, only to find his master out cold, yet again.

Johnny: “There are over a hundred beds in this castle, Prince Doyoung. I implore you to choose one”

Doyoung shoots up in his seat, awoken by Johnny’s sassy remark.

Doyoung: “Sorry, I didn't plan to fall asleep, it just keeps happening”

Johnny: “It's great to see you resting, but are their stories really that boring? Enough to lull you to sleep?”

Doyoung: “No no, that's not it at all. Their stories are lovely and soothing. I think that's why they put me to sleep. It's easier to think of their fantasy worlds than it is to face the reality of having to be king one day”

Johnny: “You talk of the throne as if it's a burden”

Doyoung: “Some days I feel like it is”

On that note, Doyoung gathers his things and makes his way to his room.

He sits on his bed and picked up the copy of Shimmerlight, tempted to read more.

“Just one more chapter”, he lies to himself.

Five chapters later, Doyoung's asleep, dreaming of the world of magic that you'd created.

Every night that week, Doyoung would read more and more of your book until one fateful night- he finishes it.

“What? That can't be the end!”, Doyoung shouts to the universe at like one in the morning. He immediately slaps his hand over his mouth, realizing the late hour.

He slept fine that night, but the night after that, he couldn't sleep at all. He doesn't have anything of yours to read, and he doesn't have you there to tell him stories, so he just lays there.

He tries counting sheep, controlled breathing, and all the other bullcrap Johnny advised him to do, but alas. Not even a wink of sleep.

Pulling this all-nighter causes Doyoung’s mood and morale to plummet. He finally found a way to sleep well and now it was over.

After grumbling and researching whatever dull task Johnny assigns him for the day, Doyoung finds himself unable to focus. He’d only met you once, and yet you managed to have such a significant impact on him.

“I’ll get over it- I’ll get over them”, Doyoung said aloud. He’d forgotten his attentive butler happened to be looming over his shoulder at the time.

Johnny: “You’ll get over who, exactly?”, he asks with the curiosity of a gossiping school girl.

Doyoung: “It’s nothing- forget it”

Johnny: “Mhmm... the less you say, the more you reveal, Prince Doyoung”

With a huff and a sigh, Doyoung comes to the conclusion that his butler is not going to leave him alone until he spills the metaphorical beans.

Doyoung: “...well do you  remember the person who gave me the book Shimmerlight?”

Johnny: “Yes, I remember them very clearly, having had to talk to them instead of dragging you back to the castle after looking for you for hours”

Doyoung: “Look- you’ve already lectured me. Do you want to know what’s on my mind or not?”

Johnny: “I will admit I am quite curious. Before that day, I didn’t think anyone’s comments could fluster you, Prince Doyoung. Or should I say Prince Dreamy?”, he teases the moping prince.

Doyoung: “Ugh, forget it!”

Johnny: “My apologies for picking fun at royalty like yourself, Prince Doyoung. You just make it so easy”

Doyoung continues to confide in his butler, but not before shooting him a piercing glare.

Doyoung: “I just can’t stop thinking about them- no matter how much I try to block out thoughts of them with thoughts about literally anything else. And even worse, the only thing that can put me to sleep nowadays are their stories. And g o s h those cookies were so good”

Johnny: “I agree with you on that last one. With cookies like that, we ought to hire them as a pastry chef here at the castle”

And then it happens. The epiphany Doyoung's been waiting for all this time.

Doyoung: “Not as a chef, then they’d be stuck in the kitchens all day. We’ll hire them as a librarian, so they can work here- in the Royal Literature Hall”

Johnny: “...may I refrain from formality for just a moment?”

Doyoung: “...yes?”

Johnny: “Doyoung you c a n n o t hire someone to work for you just because you have a crush on them”

Doyoung: “I'm literally the prince, who is going to stop me”

Alden: “Ugh... I don’t like it. But if you insist, I’ll send a messenger to fetch them and bring them here to the cast-”

Doyoung: “No way, I’ll go talk to them. Don’t worry about it”

Doyoung doesn’t hesitate to rush out of the Literature Hall and out of the castle.

It takes him a good minute to realize that it’s raining, but there’s no time to waste, so he pulls up the hood of his jacket and keeps running towards town.

Johnny yelling in the background: “I would’ve gotten a fucking carriage if you would’ve waited five minutes-”

Finally, after the most running Doyoung’s done in years, he ends up at the front door of Honey Bee’s Buzzing Books, and this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter.

“Y/N? Y/N!”, he shouts into the seemingly empty store.

“Listen dude, you can’t come barging in here and start yelling”

For a fraction of a second, Doyoung feels a glimmer of hope, until he turns to the front desk and sees some boy instead of you there. He runs up the counter, regardless. Eyeing the boy’s name tag, Doyoung begins his frantic interrogation.

Doyoung: “Listen- is Renjun your name?”

Renjun: “Yeah, why else would I have ‘Renjun’ plastered across my chest?”

Doyoung: “Do you know where Y/N is?”

Renjun: “Home, like they should be. It’s their day off”

Doyoung bolts out the door, getting a whole four steps into the street before realizing he doesn’t know where you live.

He steps timidly back into the store, where Renjun is still sitting at the front desk with an all-knowing look plastered on his face.

Doyoung: “...would you happen to know their address?”

Renjun: “Of course, I’m their best friend. Would you like to know it?”

Doyoung: “Yes, please”

Renjun: “Then answer me one thing, Prince Doyoung. What’s your goal here? Just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you can go around breaking hearts”

Doyoung: “My feelings for them have nothing to do with this- I want to offer them a job as the Royal Literature Hall’s head librarian”

Renjun: “...are you serious right now?”

Doyoung: “I know that would mean taking them away from your bookshop and I’m really sorry about that but I need them-”

Renjun: “No- you don’t understand. That is their dream job. You have to go tell them!”

Doyoung: “Really? I had no idea”

Renjun: “Well what are you doing just standing there! Go get them!”, he orders, scribbling your address onto a sticky note and sticking it to Doyoung’s forehead.

Doyoung: “Thank you!”, he shouts to the now gleeful Renjun, grabs the note off his bangs and bolts out the door.

Meanwhile...

A few blocks from the book shop, you’re having a lazy day at home, oblivious to the prince’s distress, and to his feelings for you.

The knocking at your door startles you into dropping the book you were reading. You have no clue who's on the other side but by the way they're slamming on the door, you're afraid they'd break it off its hinges. And paying for that to be fixed was the last thing you wanted to do.

You swing open the door, rubbing your eyes due to having just been woken up.

You: “Renjun, should you be at-”

“I'm not Renjun”

You stop rubbing your eyes and look up to the last person you expect- Prince Doyoung.

You drag him inside, preaching a mini-lecture on how “you should at least bring an umbrella if you’re stupid enough to go out during a storm like this”

And oh boy, he looks at you like you’re a whole other species.

You: “What??”

Doyoung: “No it’s just… no one’s ever really nagged me other than Johnny. I’m not used to it”

You: “Well save it Prince Dreamy, I’m not used to princes making a wet mess of my home”, you clap back and go to get him something dry to wear.

Stepping back into the front room, you find the prince of this nation awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

“Here, go change into this”, you say, tossing him some oversized clothes you happen to have lying around.

He mumbles his thanks as you point out the bathroom for him to change in.

Him stripping down in the middle of your living room wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world as far as you’re concerned, but you figure you’ll save him the embarrassment.

While he’s getting out of those drenched clothes, you get to work brewing some tea and getting out whatever suitable snacks you have in the pantry.

By the time he steps out, you’ve got the table set with some sweets, at least, but the tea’s still not ready just quite yet.

You: “You sure took your time. What did you do, go through my medicine cabinet to make sure I’m not some kind of spy?”

Doyoung: “How would me looking through your medicine cabinet give me any kind of inkling of your loyalty to this country? And no, I was trying and failing to dry my hair”

You: “Oh sorry, I didn’t think of that. Gimme a second”, you say and scurry down the hall to get a towel.

The last thing you need is to be beheaded because the crown prince caught a cold on your watch.

You chuck a fluffy, pink towel at the prince, hitting him straight in the face.

...whoops

You: “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! My aim is terrible”

Doyoung: “It’s fine, really. I didn’t come here to recruit you as an archer or anything”, he says as the two of you take a seat at the table.

You: “Yeah about that- why did you come here? I don’t recall giving you an address, but you’re the prince so I guess you have a heightened stalking capabilities”

Doyoung: “I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy, I just have something important to ask you”

You: “Ah, I see. Well I hate to break it to you, but you should at least take me on a few dates before proposing. I’ll have to respectfully decline”

Doyoung: “Haha, very funny. In all seriousness, though, I would like you to come work at the castle. Work for me, that is”

You: “As what, a servant? Baker? Seamstress? Oh gosh please not a seamstress, I haven’t sewed anything in years and even then it was… tragic to say the least”

Doyoung: “I want you to work in the Royal Literature Hall as a librarian. You’d still have down time to write and if you don’t know how the Dewey Decimal system works, I’m sure Johnny could teach you. Actually, Johnny wouldn’t know but Taeyong probably does”

You: “...”

Doyoung: “So… what do you say?”

You: “Pardon my language your Royal Dreaminess, but are you fucking with me right now? Is this a joke?”

Doyoung: “I’m completely serious. That would be a pretty cruel joke”

You: “Okay then yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes! Oh my gosh, when can I come to the castle?”

Just then, you hear frantic knocking at the door yet again.

You: “Did you bring friends?”

Doyoung: “My friends live in the other kingdoms or the castle so... most likely no”

You and Doyoung creep quietly over to the door, cautious of who else would show up at night in the middle of a storm.

Unlocking the door, you swing it open just enough for the two of you to peer through the sliver of space.

You: “Oh. Hi Mr. Butler, sir!”

You open the door all the way and let in the peeved and drenched guy. You’re just glad he’s pissed at Prince Doyoung and not you. Wouldn’t wanna be on the receiving end of that angry look.

Johnny: “Prince Doyoung, just because you are royalty doesn’t mean that you can disregard time and even more so- curfews. They still apply, regardless of your status, wouldn’t you agree, Y/N?”

You: “Ah… of course? When I was younger, I never broke curfew for fear of… well... a situation like this”

Doyoung: “I’ve just offered you your dream job, shouldn’t you side with me on this?”

Johnny: “Bribery is never appropriate, Prince Doyoung. Plus, the carriage is waiting for the both of you”

You: “Both of us?”

Johnny: “Yes, both of you. We can come back for your essential belongings tomorrow, but for now, the place you’re needed most is the castle. Am I assuming wrong about your reply to the Prince’s proposition?”

You: “Oh no, of course I’ve accepted- don’t worry about that! I just didn’t expect to be leaving so soon. I’ve got a few things I’d really like to bring tonight though.

Doyoung: “Whatever we can fit into the carriage should be fine”

The two boys help you pack the carriage with stuff and by the time you’re finished, there’s only just enough room for you and the Prince on one side.

Johnny reluctantly leaves the two of you by yourselves and takes his place as driver of the carriage, leading the horses on the mildly bumpy road back to the castle.

By this point in time, the storm has died down to only the smallest drizzle, the sound of rain being more soothing than its previous hectic plundering.

You’re not sure if it’s because it’s been a long day for you both, or the physical closeness of the two of you, but Doyoung seems suddenly quite shy of you.

Not wanting to say anything to make him even more uncomfortable, your attention stays on your stuff, making sure none get knocked over on the occasional bump in the road. Doyoung, however, is the one who breaks the silence.

Doyoung: “I loved your book”

You: “My what?”

Doyoung: “Your book. Shimmerlight. It’s very well written, I’m baffled to even begin to try and imagine how you came up with the plot”

You: “Ah, I could tell you, but that’d ruin all the fun. Some things are better left a mystery”

Doyoung: “Yeah, I guess so…”, he says, not even trying to mask the disappointment in his voice.

You: “I can tell you a dumb story Renjun told me the other day?”

Doyoung: “Well I just have to hear that”

The amount of time that passes is a mystery, seemingly lasting forever and coming to an end all too quickly.

For Prince Doyoung though, it probably felt like a few minutes, seeing as the sleepless boy dozes off on you about half way through the part where the story gets dumb.

It’s a good thing that he was out cold when he dozed off, his cheek nuzzling into your soft hair, otherwise he’d definitely be able to hear your heart pounding a mile a minute.

Does he even know he has this effect on you? Probably not.

“He likes me for my books”, you remind yourself out loud as the carriage comes to a stop at the front gate of the castle.

“I like you for you too, you beautiful idiot”, he mumbles sleepily, having just woken up.

Your mind frantically searches for something coherent to say back but fails. It wouldn’t matter anyway, because Prince Doyoung opens the carriage door and not-so-gracefully tumbles onto the dirt road.

“Oh shit”, you curse, flinging yourself out of the same door and crouching next to the boy laying on the ground. Johnny is quick to notice and hops down from his position at the reigns and asks what happened.

You: “”I don’t know, he just fell and- oh my gosh he’s got a fever”, you report, your palm feeling the heat and sweat coming off his forehead.

Johnny: “Of course he would get sick, having not slept well in weeks and frolicking through a thunderstorm”, he says with a sigh.

You: “What do you mean he’s not been sleeping? With his responsibilities, he should be resting as much as he can!”

Johnny: “That’s exactly the problem, dear, but right now we’ve got more pressing matters on our hands. I can’t just leave the carriage and horses here, so I’ll need you to take his Royal Highness to his room. Once you’re in the main corridor, it’s the hall on the right and then the third door to the right. Try not to be seen, he won’t want his parents to know about him going into town, they don’t approve of it. Here’s my butler’s pin- if anyone questions your authority, show them that pin and explain that you’re under direct orders from me, understood?”, he explains, placing the pin gently in your hand.

Before you can even respond, he’s back at the reigns and taking off to what you assume is the direction of the stables.

After ten minutes of arguing with the semi-conscious Prince, you convince him to stand, one of his muscular arms swung across your shoulders.

Lugging him through halls, getting horrendously lost, and hiding from every scary looking guard you see, it takes you even longer to get to his room, but you eventually find your way there.

You open the elegant oak door what you hope with all your might is his room, and thank all the deities that there are candles lit from earlier, allowing you to be able to see the path to his bed.

Knowing your own clumsiness and exhaustion, running into a chair in the dark and dropping the ill Prince wouldn’t be out of the question.

Plopping him down on his bed, the weight of him being way too much at this point, you look around the room, searching for something to signify that you have the right place.

It only takes one glance to the bedside table to find what you’re looking for- your book, opened to the page with your signature.

A smile comes to your face briefly, until he breaks into a coughing fit and your mind goes back into somewhat of a panic.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you mutter to yourself as you take off Prince Doyoung’s shoes and struggle to get all of his lanky limbs under the covers.

Doyoung: “You know… you swear a lot for someone so polite”, he laughs, not even letting his feverish state stop him from poking fun at you.

You: “Arguably, I’ve never been under more stress in my life, so I think I have earned that right”, you say, coming back to him with a freshly wet washcloth in your hands.

Doyoung: “Don’t worry- it’s not a bad thing. It’s actually really cute”

And there goes the washcloth out of your hands. Right onto the floor.

Making the trip of shame back to the bathroom to get another washcloth, you cautiously make your way back over to his bedside, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

There’s not really much you can do other than put the clean washcloth over his forehead, so you try to get up, but the Prince’s clammy hand grabs a weak hold of your wrist.

Doyoung: “Please… please don’t leave”, he says with enough desperation to pull at every emotion you have.

“I’m falling for you way faster than I imagined I would”, is what you want to say, knowing that he probably won’t remember in the morning, but ultimately decide that it’s not worth the risk.

You: “Don’t worry, I’ll stay. Of course I’ll stay”

Doyoung: “Would you mind reading to me? I think it’ll-”, he starts, but breaks off into another coughing fit.

Seeing him like this is breaking your heart into a million pieces, so you reach over for your book on the nightstand and settle in next to him under the covers.

You: “Where do you want me to start?”, you ask, hoping your tone isn’t conveying all of your feelings.

Doyoung: “From the beginning, of course”

And that’s how Johnny finds the two of you once he’s finished at the stables. Both in bed, you lying on your back with your book covering your face, and Prince Doyoung on his side with his arm thrown over your waist.

Johnny would break up the “inappropriate behavior”, but this is the first time in too long that the Prince’s face hasn’t been tense in his sleep. For once he’s actually relaxed and resting well.

And the clever butler’s got more than just an inkling that it’s got everything to do with you.

Waking up that next morning is… startling, to say the least.

With Prince Doyoung’s face nuzzled into your shoulder, close enough to feel his breath on your skin, and no personal recollection of how you got there, you just lay there with him, heart pounding out of your chest like it always does around him.

Slowly but surely, last night’s memories trickle back into mind, you recalling the whole “come be my librarian and write stories in your down time” and the carriage ride, and dragging the sick Prince around the castle.

And of course- how sad he looked when he thought you would leave.

Shivering a little bit, you block that thought out of mind. You should be excited! New job, new opportunities, new place and- oh my gosh you haven’t told Renjun.

Of course, the Prince decides to wake up in your brief moment of panic.

Doyoung: “What’s wrong?”, he mumbles groggily into your ear, making you tense up at his closeness.

You: “It’s- It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. More importantly how are you feeling?”, you ask, sitting up and putting your hand over his forehead. His fever’s gone down, but it’s not completely gone.

Doyoung: “Well I’ve not fallen over so far today, so that’s a personal accomplishment”

You: “You’ve been awake for all of thirty seconds and you haven’t even made an effort to get up”

Doyoung: “Sleeping with me and then making snarky remarks- I see how you feel”

You: “It wasn’t my goal to- I normally wouldn’t….”, you start but drone off into flustered silence.

Getting out of bed, you tell the sleepy Prince that you’re going to go find some medicine for his fever and that you’ll be right back.

He makes a point to open his eyes and look into yours, as if he’s searching for some hint of dishonesty, and he blinks a few times in surprise when he finds none.

Doyoung: “Alright. Good luck navigating the halls”

You: “It should be easier now that it’s day time and everything’s light”

Doyoung: “With you here, even nights seem more light”

You shoot him an embarrassed glare before fumbling with the door handle and exiting the room.

You get about a good twenty steps down the hallway before being stopped by a guard.

“Excuse me but who are you? What business do you have in this castle”

You: “Oh, well. I'm Y/N, and the prince is feeling under the weather so I was looking for an infirmity? Or anywhere I might be able to find something for his fever”

“Wait, you're Y/N?! Like the Prince’s Y/N?”

You: “Uhhh I’m not exactly his property but I’d consider us friends…?”

“Yikes. Friendzoned and not even to his face…”

You: “What?? Also what is your name if you don’t mind me asking”

“Taeyong. Lee Taeyong. And we have a medic on staff at all times, you should be able to get something for fevers from her”

You: “Okay, thank you Taeyong”, you say and begin to walk away, thinking the conversation’s over.

Taeyong: “One last thing, though! Can you please let me know when he’s well again?

You: “Of course! I’ll keep you updated as much as I can”

Taeyong: “Wow, you really are like he’s said”

You: “And what’s he said exactly?”

Taeyong: “That you’re caring and sweet. Take good care of him, alright?”, he says nonchalantly, as if that wasn’t the biggest boost to your already too hopeful heart.

Power-walking your way to the infirmary, you shake of the feeling of Prince Doyoung’s lovableness creeping into your heart.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, and most of it’s a blur if you’re being quite honest with yourself. After retrieving the medicine from the complete opposite side of the castle, you make your way back to Doyoung’s room and instruct him on what to take and when.

From there, you spend the rest of the day following around the Head Librarian and learning the ropes of the job, where the book binding materials are, how to properly use the filing system, where each genre section is, and most importantly, where the prince’s workspace is and to “never interrupt his already permeable concentration”.

At Prince Doyoung’s request, the room across from his has been prepared for you to stay in and all your things have been brought there.

You fought him on it, saying that he was in no state to make that kind of decision, but he said that he wouldn’t want you anywhere else.

He won that argument, because all you could do after a statement like that is blush uncontrollably and flee.

Prince Doyoung with a fever is a lot more forward with his feelings than normal, bumbling Prince Doyoung.

And that was the other thing. Before you could escape to your room, Prince Doyoung asks for you to call him by his name without the title.

He’s the prince of this country though?? What right would you have to be so informal with him?

Well. You did sleep in his bed. With him in it.

You’re still unsure about it but at least he’s comfortable enough with you to ask that??

The next day when you report for duty, you’re shocked to see Prince Doyoung- well, Doyoung, at his workspace, with a worried looking Johnny looming behind him as always.

Disregarding what the head librarian told you yesterday, you walk right up to Doyoung.

He looks away from the mountain of papers on the table to meet your gaze, and the tired, far away look in his eyes is almost too much to bear.

Doyoung: “Did you need something?”

You: “Yeah, I need the prince of our country to live to see the end of the week. What are you doing out of bed?”

Doyoung: “This needs to get done, it’s doesn’t matter if I-”

You: “Doesn’t matter if you what? Faint again? Can you even stand right now?”

Doyoung: “I can stand, I can even walk!”

Turning to Johnny, you give him the “what actually is the situation” look.

Johnny: “Your royal highness, I did have to practically carry you half of the way here”

You: “Then carry him back. Right now”

Doyoung: “And who are you to be making such orders?”, he says with a harsher tone than you’ve ever heard him use before.

You: “If you refuse to take care of yourself, who else do you think will?”, you say quietly, your feelings clearly hurt.

At first you think you may have gone to far with saying that, because he snaps his head away from you and stares at all the papers and documents he needs to read.

But then he stands up, and with some help from Johnny, makes his way back to his room and back to bed.

He does all this without a word, and without even the slightest glance in your direction.

Pissing off the person who hired you isn’t what you wanted to happen on your first day on the job, especially when that person is someone you really care about.

He’s not well enough to be working on his own like this… but maybe he doesn’t have to do all the work himself.

You gather up all the documents you can carry and take them to Doyoung’s room.

Your hands are full… so you kind of kick the door instead of knocking and hope he gets the idea.

From your place in the hallway, you can hear shuffling and movement from inside the room, and finally, he opens the door.

Blinking multiple times, he just stares at you wide-eyed.

You: “So are you gonna let me in or….?”

Doyoung: “Oh yeah, of course umm- about earlier…”, he starts and moves out of the doorway, ushering you into the room.

Plopping yourself down in the cushy chair by the window, you look up to him to show that you’re listening.

Doyoung: “I’ve been… stressed out. To say the least. All these papers of things I need to know to be a good king someday and it’s just been eating away at me. So I haven’t been sleeping much- my mind is always on something. So reading your books and listening to you has helped with that so of all the people for me to be rude to of course my dumb ass was rude to you… what I’m trying to say is that I’m really sorry. I know you were just trying to look out for me”

You: “Don’t worry about it, I could’ve been more tactful in my approach as well. But I’ve got these!”, you say, lifting the stupidly heavy papers off your lap.

Doyoung: “Are those my…?”

You: “Yep! I brought these so I could help you go through them”

Doyoung: “Wow, you’re an angel”

You: “I wouldn’t go that far?? Aha it’s not that much really, I uh- here’s one on the castle’s construction, let’s start there”

And so that’s exactly what the two of you do for the next several days. Doyoung lays in bed and you skim through the documents, telling him the important parts, which he writes down. When he gets worn out, you take breaks and bring him tea and cold medicine.

One morning you even wake up early to go down to the kitchens and bake cookies to surprise him with, and oh boy- he smiles so wide his gums show and his eyes crinkle and you think your heart might e x p l o d e with absolute adoration for this boy.

When he’s fully recovered, the two of your stop your little routine and you go back to the Literature Hall to work and he goes back to his workspace to fuss over crop rotations and blah blah blah.

You make sure to ask Johnny to let Taeyong and the rest of the guard know of Doyoung’s wellbeing

The head librarian get’s pissy with you every time you go over to Doyoung to bring him snacks and drinks but you do it anyway, lol some lady ain’t gonna stop you.

In a big ass library like this that’s pretty much limited to royalty and nobles who would rather be out partying than checking out books, it’s easy to get bored.

Your job is to maintain the books but there’s not much to maintain if no one takes them off the shelves.

With so much free time during your shifts, you find yourself spending most of your time working on a new romance novel that you started the day after you met Doyoung coincidence I think absolutely n o t

It’s highkey about him.

So that’s what a day in the life is for you- writing and making sure Doyoung eats and stays hydrated.

About a month later, when you bring him little goodies, you notice the bags under his eyes and his slouching posture. It’s clear that he hasn’t been sleeping well, but it’s not like he can just stop worrying either.

Saying “hey man, don’t worry about it, it’s just the fate of the country!” won’t exactly help and you’re clear outta ideas. But it can’t hurt it ask, can it?

You: “Umm… Doyoung?”, you say timidly. Even though he told you to, you hadn’t called him by just his name yet, but you try it thinking it might cheer him up.

He whips his head to the side and has the most “???” happy look on his face.

You: “Do you want to take a break? I mean you’ve been at this for hours and-”

From his seated position, he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in the warmth of your sweater.

You: “Is that a yes??”

He nods with his face still on you abdomen, making you laugh.

“Okay then, let’s go”, you say and pry his arms off of you, leading him out of the literature hall by his hand, almost like you would a child.

You lead him to his room and tell him to go take a nap, but as you’re about to turn and leave, he grabs your hand again.

Doyoung: “I know this is a lot to ask but… listening to you talk seems to be the only thing that helps me get to sleep so would you mind reading me something?”

You: “Of course! What do you want me to read?”

Doyoung: “What about that new book you’re writing? You’ve yet to tell me anything about it”

You: “I- uh. Yes, I can read you what I have so far, just let me go get it…”

He goes into his room and you go into yours across the hall to get the book and oH goSH how did you get yourself into this one?

Let’s just hope he doesn’t banish you from the country when he hears your feelings for him because you can bet this book is full of them.

Or maybe he’ll be too tired to really pick up on it??

Either way, you make your way back into his room to see him on one side of the bed instead of his usual spot aka taking up the damn whole thing.

You: “Are we doing this again?”

Doyoung: “I mean you can stand if you want to but that seems pretty uncomfortable”

Sighing and smiling a little, you climb into bed next to him, painfully aware of the small amount of space between the two of you, and start reading.

It’s not long before his eyes flutter shut and his breathing becomes more slow and rhythmic.

“I’ll finish this paragraph and then duck out”, you think to yourself.

You: “he’s already woven himself through my every heartstring. I’m afraid if he leaves my heart will be left with nothing but holes and the emptiness filling-”

Doyoung: “I… won’t”, you think you hear him say.

You: “I- are you awake?”

Doyoung: “I said I won’t. I won’t leave you so you don’t have to worry”, he half says/half mumbles and throws and arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

You’re at a loss for words, not believing that this could actually be happening.

Doyoung: “You do realize that I’m in love with you too, right?”, he whispers into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You: “Well I do now… and aren’t you a little cocky to assume my book is about you”

Doyoung: “You call him dreamy. You called me dreamy. It’s not that hard to put the two together”

You: “That’s on like the second page! You’ve just been letting me go on and on about how much I love you for what? Shits and giggles?”

Doyoung: “So you do? Love me?”

You: “Of course I do, I wouldn’t be worrying over you if I didn’t”

Doyoung: “You don’t need to worry about me so much”

You: “And you don’t need to worry about the country so much. You don’t have to do it alone, and you need to give the people more credit for being able to function without the meddling hands of royalty”

Doyoung: “Hey, these meddling hands are yours to hold~”

You: “One more cheesy line and I’m fleeing the country”

Doyoung: “Hmph, and you call me dramatic”

The two of you stay like that for a while, chatting about this and that, and eventually drifting off to a much needed sleep.

Johnny is unsurprised by the news of you two dating.

Johnny: “With that amount of flirting, I’d be more shocked if something didn’t happen”

You write to Renjun telling him about all that’s happened, and he quickly replies that “I know he’s the Prince but you could still do better”

Being the significant other of the Prince is??? Not something your brain can really comprehend.

Being the significant other of Doyoung, however- that makes a lot more sense.

You don’t really see him as “Prince Dreamy” like the girls in town faun over him. He’s more like “my clumsy boyfriend who cares to much about everything and needs to take a break”

But heyyyy that’s what you’re here for- to remind him to take care of himself and to put himself first.

The staff around the castle have really noticed a shift in his mood. He walks through the halls with his shoulders high, and he smiles and waves to everyone like he did when he was younger.

And boo we all know it’s because of you.

And lastly- he has to move his workplace to somewhere outside of the Royal Literature Hall because you’re too distracting and he can’t focus with you around. He just wants to bother you and love you instead of doing his work.

[chibinightowl]

Bakery AU Jaytim if you’re still doing prompts? 💕

I am! But I think I’ll save the rest of the ones I received for this next weekend. It was a fun way to spend my downtime at work. 

After the last prompt I filled, I decided I need to end my day on a fluffy note. Have some sweetness! ~*~

Tim bites his tongue as he concentrates on carefully icing the delicate cupcake in front of him. It’s a special order for a wedding and he wants each one to be perfect. Stephanie teases him for being too intent on his decorating but it’s the meticulous nature of it that appeals to him in the first place. That and the creative freedom. He still can’t believe he runs a small business — and a bakery to boot. How far the Drake name has fallen. Whatever, Tim’s happy and that’s all that matters. He took what little inheritance he got after his parent’s death (that survived the conservatorship while he was in the foster system) and promptly invested it. Baking always served as an escape for him, and his foster grandma encouraged it and taught him all kinds of things, so after he graduated high school, he went to culinary school to become a pastry chef. The intense pace of restaurant life didn’t suit him, so he sold all his stocks and bought a food truck where he started selling cupcakes and other easy to make (but no less delicious) baked goods. Thanks to his tech savvy, Tim maintained a strong presence on social media and soon his business grew. After six months, he hired Stephanie as his baking assistant and they hit it off fabulously, with her bright energy contrasting nicely against his somewhat intense personality. And now, here he is with his own storefront. Stephanie still takes the truck out during peak hours but now Tim stays behind for the most part to hide in his kitchen and simply create. Customers occasionally interrupt but most of his work now comes from special orders. Like the six dozen black forest cake cupcakes with a dark cherry filling and a blood red buttercream frosting dusted with edible gold glitter. They’re for a gothic inspired wedding, which Tim finds awesome. If there’s one thing he’s learned over the last few years, it’s the eclectic crowd that inspires his creativity the most. “Tim!” Steph all but shouts as she comes bursting into the kitchen. He’s used to it so he barely startles and keeps working. “Oh. My. God. You won’t believe who just walked in and asked for you.” “Let me guess. Mickey Mouse?”That earns him a smack upside the back of his head. “No! It’s Jason Wayne.” It takes a moment for the name to sink in. When it does, Tim drops his piping tube. “You’re shitting me.” Jason Wayne. Second son (adopted) of Bruce Wayne. Formerly Robin and now Redwing. Tim is a fan. A massive fan. He’s been a fan of Robin since he first figured out Dick Grayson was Batman’s sidekick at the tender age of 9. But Jason…Tim always kind of considered him his Robin, especially after the night he rescued a younger Tim from some gang on his way home from the library late one night. His foster family didn’t live in the best part of town but it wasn’t the worst either. “I know!!” Steph all but squeals as she shoves him toward the door. “He says he has a special order he wants to run by you. Now get out there!” She picks up the piping bag to take over. The cupcakes have to be done in a couple hours. Tim stumbles through the door but he still takes a moment to glare back over his shoulder at his friend and assistant. “Just be careful with those!”“Since when am I not? You taught me how to do it, Mr. Picky-Pants.” His ears burn as Tim turns around to greet his famous customer. Of course he heard that. Jason leans casually against the counter and grins at him. “She’s feisty, huh?”“You have no idea.” Tim rubs his hands on his icing smeared apron and grimaces when they’re still red. “Uhh, excuse me if I don’t shake your hand.”“Don’t worry about it. A little icing never hurt anyone.” Jason holds out his hand. “I’m Jason Wayne.”“I know,” Tim replies and then blinks. “Umm. Sorry. Tim Drake.” He shakes Jason’s hand. It’s big and warm and wow, there’s a lot of scars on his knuckles. Jason must notice where Tim’s eyes land. “I box and do some MMA,” he offers. “Oh. Yeah.” Tim reluctantly lets go and tries to put his business face on, much to the dismay of his inner fanboy who is screaming and bouncing in glee at meeting one of his heroes. “So! Steph says you want me to make something for you?” The taller man chuckles easily. He must be used to this. “I am. Normally we have Alfred make cakes, but he just broke his foot and he’s getting up there in age, so I thought maybe we’d contract out this year.” “Oh? What’s the occasion?” “Damian’s 15th birthday.” Jason doesn’t sound enthused. Even Tim’s heard and seen stories about how challenging the youngest Wayne (and current Robin) is. “Gotcha. So, teenager then.” His wheels are already turning. He grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and then heads over to a small table in the front of the shop. “Come into my office,” Tim jokes. Jason takes a seat, his long legs sticking out from either side of the table. The denim of his jeans strains over his incredibly muscular thighs and Tim does his best not to whimper. But it’s hard because the man just hits every single one of his buttons. It’s not fair.“What does Damian like?”The question garners an eye roll from Jason. “Sharp pointy objects. Art. Dogs. Any music that involves a symphony orchestra.”Tim’s done dog cakes before and even one that resembled Monet’s garden, which had been a bitch and a half. “So, a violin perhaps? Oh! Maybe a throwing star! Does he like ninja?” He gets all excited and starts sketching, completely missing the sharp look Jason gives him. “He hates ninja, but loves throwing stars. He’s got a few,” the man replies cautiously. But Tim’s in the zone, drawing a design for a modified star-shaped cake and sharpening the edges, tightening some lines and widening others. “I haven’t seen one since I stopped watching Naruto, but I think it’s something like this.” He shows Jason the drawing. He stares at it a moment before grinning broadly. “That looks fucking awesome. You think you can pull it off?” Tim scoffs. “I don’t see why not. It’s laying flat after all. Unless I can get it to stand…” the wheels start to turn again but Jason brings him back to the present by actually waving his hand in Tim’s face. “Slow your roll there, Timmers. Flat is fine.” “Oh. Okay.” He can’t help the slightly disappointed feeling that he won’t get a chance to really show off for his favorite Robin. Tim forces himself to focus. “So what kind of flavors does Damian like?”Jason rattles off a list of some definitely uncommon tastes, but by the end, Tim only has one idea and he can’t wait to give it a try. “I wonder if I can make a spiced chai cake.” “That…that would be awesome if you can pull it off.” Jason sounds impressed. Tim is already making a shopping list as star anise and cardamom aren’t spices he keeps on hand. “I’ll have to make some samples to see how it turns out. Are you available at all for a tasting?” Another really important question comes to mind and Tim brushes his bangs away from his face. “When do you need this by?” Jason’s staring at him in bemusement. “Two weeks. I know it’s short notice with what I saw online but I was kinda hoping maybe you’d make an exception.” Tim laughs at him. “I’m making Damian Wayne’s birthday cake. Even if it’s just for a small party, that kind of exposure is huge for a little business like mine. I’d be a fool not to.”“In that case, I can stop by next week for a tasting,” Jason says and stands. This meeting is apparently over, at least for now. “That should be plenty of time. This is going to be fun.” Tim knows he sounds eager and doesn’t care.

Jason smiles again, and Tim wants to just melt because it’s so unlike the playboy smile he sees on TV or his Instagram feed (because of course he follows Jason Wayne). “You really like a challenge, don’t you?” he asks.

“I love a good challenge,” Tim agrees, grinning back at his hero.

“So do I.” Jason hesitates, then reaches out and runs his thumb over Tim’s cheek. It comes back red, which Tim swears could probably be from the amount of blood rushing to his face because Jason just touched him. “You always covered in frosting?”

For once, Tim’s brain lines up with his mouth and he says something that sounds clever. “Only on special occasions.”

Or not.

But Jason smirks and raises his thumb to his mouth, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste the red frosting that has apparently been on Tim’s face the entire time they were speaking. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He takes the pencil and pad of paper from Tim and writes something on it before handing it back. “See you soon.”

Tim stands there petrified as Jason walks out and drives away in an absolutely sick red car that screams money and horsepower. Once he’s out of sight, he looks down at the pad of paper.

There’s a phone number written next to his picture. More importantly, there’s a little note in a bold print.

I wonder if you taste as good as your frosting?

[reconditarmonia]

Dear Yuletide Author

Edit 3:10pm Eastern Time 10/23/18: All prompts added now, thank you for your patience.

Hello, lovely writer!

I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3 (and have been since LJ days, but my LJ is locked down and I only have a DW to see locked things). I have anon messaging off, but mods should be able to contact me if you have any questions.

Far From the Madding Crowd | Harlots | Monstrous Regiment | Simoun | Spinning Silver

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink, whether commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms, and the trust associated with it. Sometimes-but-not-always relatedly, idealism. I guess the two combined might be, in general, the idea of nobility of character and what that means.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff.

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

– Eucatastrophe.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes.

—

Fandom: Far From the Madding Crowd

Character(s): Bathsheba Everdene

One thing that always sticks in my mind about this novel is the way Hardy calls Bathsheba “the young farmer” just as he refers to the men as farmers - which, just saying, is more than most people writing about this story can do - and so, that being the case, what I’m most interested in is something about Bathsheba as farmer. One day in the life or four seasons in the life or five plantings/harvests in the life, or pseudo-academic fic about a case study of a woman farmer in the Victorian era, or a conflict between the farm and nature that Bathsheba has to decide how to solve.

Feel free to bring in other characters if it suits what you’re trying to do, but what I’m really looking for is a focus on Bathsheba’s work, determination, and process of learning. Other ideas: something like a merchant ship AU (as the first alternate setting that came to mind where it would be not exactly the done thing for her to captain her inherited ship and make commercial decisions herself - although I do have to point out that contrary to popular belief, there were a lot of women on shipboard in the age of sail, may this be useful - but also where nature and luck/fate are as influential as they are in the original setting); something in which the land, superstition, and ritual are more overtly magical; or interactive fiction!

—

Fandom: Harlots

Character(s): Margaret Wells

So Harlots almost immediately became one of my favorite shows of all time, for its strong and complex female characters, all major plots/conflicts being between women, and the feminist ethos informing both the filming (with this premise there could have been a LOT of actress nudity and titillating rape, in other hands) and the writing - I find the scene in s2 where Margaret leads the crowd in turning their backs on Nancy’s whipping very moving, because it’s one moment that emphasizes that the show’s feminism isn’t just “look, horrible things happening to women, whatcha gonna do” but instead thinks about the next step of women supporting each other against the system. (Kitty’s thoughts about a collective are another one.) I wasn’t sure at first what I wanted to request here, but starting to explain for you why I like the show made me think wherever you take the idea of writing about Margaret, I’d want to see her in the context of other women. This could be pre-canon (I’m not particularly interested in very young Margaret, but Margaret beginning to establish her own house, hiring her own girls for the first time, and contending with Lydia Quigley as a rival, I’d love to see; or deciding to move to Greek Street?) or post-canon (who does she meet? what does she do???) She’s such a powerful character but also so morally ambivalent - what kinds of positions can you put her in where she has to choose how or whether to protect those under her authority, or further her own ambition and that of the people she chooses? What is loyalty, anyway? (I'd be up for post-canon fic with her and Charlotte, but I don’t think I would want to read an expansion of her selling Charlotte in the canon backstory.) Throw in anyone you like if that helps you tell the story - it’s such a good ensemble show.

If you, like me, ship Margaret with Nancy and were psyched when they got to kiss and Nancy told Charlotte she loved Margaret, I have some prompts for the ship in a previous letter. TL;DR: I’m especially interested in Margaret/Nancy as partners-as-family and what that means to them, and in how Margaret fits into Nancy’s relationship to intimacy.

If you’d prefer to write this instead of writing about Margaret, I would also be 100% just as happy with fic about the whole fucked-up relationship between Charlotte and Lydia in season 2 (I LOVE “ultra-loyal and beloved henchman secretly plotting revenge” plots, their scenes together are so good! I was sorry that that plot didn’t carry on for longer - honestly, you could write a canon divergence AU where the secret isn’t revealed so soon and Charlotte becomes more and more compromised and I would be delighted), something focusing on either of those two individually (pre-canon Lydia setting up her house? choosing her aesthetic? post-canon Lydia manipulating her way out of Bedlam?), or something about Nancy (her lifestyle is so unconventional but it works for her and people around her mostly roll with it). Again, preferably with reference to other women, rather than men.

Something that I really like about the show, which would be neat to see in fic somehow, is that it feels real and lived-in. So many costume dramas feel costumed, but at least to me, the sets and costumes of Harlots feel like houses people live and work in and clothes people wear; we occasionally see a shift under the dress, women put on a fichu over a dress or deal with their corsets, they move like they’re used to wearing this. I love daily-life type history, and people being people in history, so those sorts of details would make me really happy. (I have tags “documents” and  “history” for stuff that might interest you if you also like that sort of thing.) I also really like the moments of theatricality and ritual like Mary Cooper and Kitty Carter’s funeral processions.

Fandom-Specific Exception to DNW: I recognize that rape and dubcon are endemic to the canon and I don’t expect you to avoid all reference to them, but would prefer not to have them described in detail, or to dwell on specific instances.

—

Fandom: Monstrous Regiment

Character(s): Any (Polly “Ozzer” Perks, Maladict, Jackrum, Mildred Froc)

I’m not going to lie, Polly is one of my all-time faves. I like that this could have been a generic coming-of-age or women-in-war story, where the protagonist learns that she’s brave or worthwhile and then the crisis is past, but instead Polly learns that she’s a cunning bastard and a hell of a sergeant, and being a one-off hero in a country that’s at peace and making slow social progress isn’t good enough for her. That said, just because I’m better able to articulate what I like about Polly doesn’t mean I’d be less excited for fic about anyone else! Honestly, one of the things I like best about the story as a whole is the varying degrees of competence porn - people learning what they’re good at and doing it - and that’s something that could apply to any character here. What are they good at? What lets them fulfill their potential? What do they want when their hand isn’t being forced? So, say, how’d Jackrum go from enlisting for Reasons to being the career sergeant of canon? Any other adventures worth recounting? What are Polly or Mal’s long-term plans, since their original goals seemed so short-term - or, what led Froc to enlist and stay? What can Mal do with the intimidating coolness and/or the potential berserker rage?

There’s a lot of potential for romantic and/or platonic loyalty kink with this character set, and I’d love something that went there. Characters rescuing each other from peril, risking themselves (their safety, reputation, position, ethics, secrets, goals, honor) to defend each other (ditto ditto), accomplishing the impossible or sacrificing things without even thinking twice because one trusts the other’s orders or judgment. Or A not going off the leash or into danger to defend B because B said not to (the "call off your dog" thing), to protect A’s conscience or life or reputation. Polly sends Mal on a dangerous mission; Mal goes off-leash rescuing Polly; something about the post-canon rank difference on top of the class difference (Mal is wealthy and cultured and typical commission material and yet is a corporal under Sergeant Perks’s command); Polly protects Jackrum’s secret/s from someone who could reveal them; an expansion of Jackrum and Froc’s backstory; anything about Froc’s whole relationship to the Duchess over the years as one of the few left who met her in person... Or for Polly/Mal in particular, I’d be into high sexual tension and/or mutual pining whether from near (if they continue serving in the same regiment, essentially together all the time and unable to act on it) or from far (what if the job separated them - LDR, epistolary?).

This is a perennial request for me and I have previous letters in the “dear author letters” tag if you’d like more info.

Fandom-Specific DNW: gender headcanons (I'm sorry, I can't figure out the right way to phrase this, but I'm happy to provide clarification via mod question or whatever); vampire romance tropes (such as turning or immortality) as focus.

—

Fandom: Simoun

Character(s): Any (Aeru, Amuria, Dominuura, Halconf, Limone, Mamiina, Neviril, Onasia, Paraietta, Plumbish Priestesses, Rodoreamon, Yun)

Simoun is another one of my perennial requests. I love how, in the mold of all my favorite epic yuri/shoujo animes, Everything Is Beautiful And Then Shit Gets Real, and that's not just an out-of-universe fact of the show but something that the characters themselves, who are "supposed" to be priestesses and not an air force, have to deal with. (Neviril's scene in the hearing is one of my favorites.) I enjoy that everyone comes in for different reasons - religious, patriotic, ambitious, interpersonal, gender-related - and has different ways of solving problems, their very deep flaws but also very deep nobility, and how everyone gets character development in the sense of growing and changing.

I'd love to see something that worked with that military aspect of the canon and the in-story tension of it - if you focus on more than one character, the way that the superior-subordinate dynamics or comrades-in-arms dynamics, and the different ways they behave under pressure (cheerful Aeru when she encounters the downed enemy pilot), sit alongside other dynamics (like Mamiina and Rodoreamon's childhood backstory/class thing) and don't always develop at the same pace, but single-character fic about the choices they have to make and how they think about them, as their situation changes, would be great too. What about more of Yun's backstory, for example? Hell, what's going on in Halconf's life and mind as someone who used to be a sibylla but now has quite a different role in the war as the sibylla position has changed? Or, what about in the post-canon where war is brewing again but Paraietta and Rodoreamon can't fly the Simoun anymore, and Neviril and Aeru might be able to but Neviril has no one to lead, unless it's a whole new crop of maidens? What do they want to do, and what skills are they still able to use? (Feel free to re-unite characters that are separated by canon - resurrect Mamiina, bring characters back from other worlds - if that's what you want to do with the story, although I think I'd prefer for that to be something that's acknowledged in-story as due to magic or alternate worlds rather than tacitly retconned.)

As with some of the other fandoms I've requested, I'm interested in the different permutations of loyalty - loyalty to a position or an ideal over loyalty to a side, such as the Plumbish priestesses'; something fleshing out the chorus's devoted loyalty to and trust in Neviril in a high-stakes situation where she's able to return it; interpersonal loyalty and how that interacts with love, requited or articulated or not (Mamiina and the braid, Paraietta's everything); loyalty that develops before liking or friendship does. Femslash is great, gen is great. This is a fandom where sexual first times would tie into the canon's themes in a lot of ways, if you're interested in writing that. Other things that would be cool: time loops or other timespace play, to go with the magic and timespace warping in the show? Interactive fiction? Have our leads learn more about Argentum and Plumbum and meet people from there?

Fandom-Specific DNW/Exception: I don't need you to retcon the attempted assault(s), but please don't dwell on them. No Dominuura/Limone, please.

—

Fandom: Spinning Silver

Character(s): Miryem Mandelstam

So there's definitely a common theme in a lot of my prompts and it's that I like hard-headed, practical, ambitious women who get into adventures because of, rather than in spite of, those qualities. I really like Miryem's good sense, pride, and rules-lawyering, and the way her power in the world becomes magic power in the Staryk world. In general, I also really like the way the book integrates various fairytales with one another and with the situation of Jews in Eastern Europe. What happens when Miryem is back in the human world, post-canon? I never got the impression that she'd be happy just avoiding the whole question of the town's contempt for her by finding power elsewhere - what's it like if she comes back a queen? (Can she use the mirror from Irina to do an end run around the whole Persephone setup and travel back and forth whenever she wants, and if so, what sorts of plot would make that fun to play with? If not, that's still fine.) Or, what are some adventures in the Staryk world where she could use her Accounting Powers, other than the post-war rebuilding the book talks about? Or tell me more about Miryem practicing Judaism in the Staryk world, and the application of Judaism to that world and those customs that we get some hints of (that's a hell of a diaspora - what would the rabbis think of it?)

I would be delighted by Miryem/Irina. Two queens with very different kinds of power, and different ideas of where their commitment lies - Miryem's to "her people" whether that's her family/other Jews/the Staryk who have bound themselves to her, Irina's to "Lithvas" - and what's consistent with their own ethics to fulfill those commitments. Widow them both and have the ultimate human world-Staryk world power marriage? A more serious rivalshippy thing where you make Miryem and Irina deal with the fact that they're respectively a Jewish queen of a super-powerful magic country and the queen of a largely anti-Semitic country who's not totally free from those beliefs herself? (I should mention that I am explicitly okay with the story touching on anti-Semitism or having anti-Semitism as a central issue.) What about different court traditions, when they visit each other? I would be delighted by Miryem/Wanda. I liked the early development of their relationship and wished we'd had more of that later in the story. How would Wanda's gratitude to Miryem and the Mandelstams play in a land that views gratitude so differently from the human world? Might Wanda's real-world "magic", like the reading and writing Miryem gave her, manifest differently in the Staryk world too? Do you want to go full Tam Lin and have Wanda rescue Miryem from the Staryk world? Would Wanda ever consider converting to Judaism? What if she's less settling into comfortable forest retirement and more becoming a magical gatekeeper of Miryem's land in her own way? I would be delighted by Miryem/f!Staryk Lord! What changes if the otherworldly monarch who claims Miryem's hand, bringing her into a new world of customs unfamiliar to her and power she hasn't known before, is also a woman?

Feel free to include Wanda or Irina even if it's not a femslash story, Tsop or Flek, or anyone else you need. (Rule 63 Mirnatius could also be really interesting, although I know that's potentially a lot to just throw into the background of a story about Miryem, so male Mirnatius or male Staryk Lord are fine too, if they're not the focus of the story.) Or, ignore all the characters, including Miryem, and tell me another fairytale, or combination of fairytales, about the Staryk and the Jews.

Fandom-Specific DNW: I don't need you to retcon Miryem/Staryk or Irina/Mirnatius if you'd rather not (including if you're writing any of the femslash options - plenty of historical royalty had lovers), but I'm not interested in those ships unless genderswapped to f/f, and would not like fic About them.

[crazyassmurdererwall]

1 - 15! ;)

What is your favorite fic you have under your belt? Probably counting on - I’m most proud of that fic because I got the pacing just right, and I know I nailed the characterization of everyone. I was able to introduce a female oc I loved, and bring back a character (Jenny) that didn’t get used enough in Suits, in my opinion, and it was totally canon based! Not something I usually do. (I love my AUs.)

What is your favorite snippet of dialogue? Oh man...honestly, I don’t know. I love a little something in everything I write. (Total cop out, but also true!)

What inspired Crescendo? The user starskeeper (Vale) did. She wrote a series of tags on a post and I wanted to do something for her. She gave so much to the early years of the Suits fandom. Once I started working it over in my mind, I knew I could make it work, but still make it Harvey and Mike.

Do you prefer writing long or short fics? No preference, really. Though I have a tendency to be a little on the wordy side, I think. I just like the story to do what the story is going to do. Sometimes that means long, sometimes that means short. They’re equally satisfying wen I finish them and get to move the doc into my complete folder.

What’s your favorite headcanon you use in fics? Depends on the fandom, obviously, but for Suits I love Mike being creative outside of work. For TW, I love the idea that Jackson and Stiles were besties before Scott came to town. I maintain Jackson’s just been jealous he lost his best friend years ago. (Hahahaha.) Those are the two fandoms I’m writing right now.

What’s the detail you wait on bated breath for readers to notice? There’s always something in every story I’d like someone to notice, because I do make an effort to be thoughtful as I write, but most of the time no one says anything. Sometimes they do, and I’m always thrilled when they call it out in the comments. Makes my day.

How much do you like symbolism in your fics? I use it sometimes, but not often. 

How often do people catch onto your little details? As I said above, not as often as I’d like, but it certainly happens, and I love when readers pick them out and name them.

What’s the fic you like the least? Honestly, I love all my fics or I wouldn’t post them, so let’s say something I never finished, and won’t at this point. It just couldn’t be.

What would you change if you had it all to do again? Write more? Be less critical of my own process? Something like that. Writing’s a lot of fun, I mean it’s so much fun, and sometimes I put it off because I think something’s not exactly right word wise, or I haven’t done enough thinking, and I need to get past that. That sort of defeatist talk is suuuuuuuper unhelpful, man.

What’s a fanfic idea you haven’t done yet? I have a 50 page word doc of stories I haven’t written yet. Just, things from all over the map.

What’s the hardest thing to write for you? I struggle the most with beginnings and endings, which is not uncommon, I think? I always get there in the end, though.

Do you have a favorite character to write for? The moment I started writing Stiles I felt very at ease with him, which makes sense because there are some very Stiles-ish parts to me. I connect with him a lot. And that makes him easy to write. His voice is pretty easy to pick out. Although I have to say, as I’m working on this most recent TW fic, I’ve been having a lot of fun writing Peter. He’s a kick. As for Suits, Harvey is the easiest to write, but Jessica is fun, when you can get her voice just right.

What’s your favorite shipping fic you’ve written? Favorite gen fic? All of my fics are shipping fics. I don’t remember the last gen fic I wrote, although technically nothing happens, so you could call The Care & Keeping of Harvey Specter’s Puppy a gen fic, I guess. But otherwise, honestly no favorites. Every story gives me a chance to explore the different parts of a relationship of a couple I love, so you know, I love all their bits and pieces, elbows and knees.

Give us a snippet of something from your WiPs! 

From current TW fic #1: 

So…trolls exist. Go figure. And it turns out they have a taste forhuman flesh but have zero interest in werewolves or other supernaturalcreatures – read: banshees. So if they’re going to get rid of this thing, thatreduces the bait down to two possibilities. And Stiles has never been any goodat long range shooting.

“No.”

“You know this is pretty much our only option.”

Derek clenches his jaw, crosses his arms. “We’ll find anotherway.”

“Mr. Ugly has already eaten a waitress from Paulie’s Diner. Do wewant to give it a shot to eat someone else?”

“Stiles.”

“Derek.”

Look, Stiles isn’t exactly thrilled about this plan. But thechoice is either let troll loose to find his next nummy human treat or makeStiles run for his life through the preserve, so it’s obvious which choicethey need to make.

“The plan is solid. I run my ass off toward the clearing whileLydia and Allison slow him down with arrows and a lot of awesome homemade smokebombs, and when I get to the clearing you take over and tie him up with tons ofrope and chains and wait for the sun to come up. Easy.”

Only it turns out to not be that easy because the troll catcheshim once, one meaty massive hand wrapping around his forearm and nearly pullinghis arm out of its socket, and it’s only one of Lydia’s awesome smoke bombs –exploding  in Mr. Ugly’s eyes thanks to the force of one of Allison’sarrows – that saves his ass and lets him get away. He rubs his shoulder andcalls out every name in the book as he tries to entice him to the clearing,which is where they discover for themselves that trolls are not only stupidlybig they’re stupidly strong. It takes every single last rope they have, everysingle chain, and every single one of them holding on to keep him in theclearing until the sun comes up, Stiles’ shoulder barking the whole time, tearscoming to his eyes as he’s yanked and pulled. When the sun comes up over thetops of the trees the troll turns immediately into stone and they all collapseon the grass, panting, staring up at the sky.

“Well,” Isaac says after a long pause, from somewhere to Stiles’right, “That actually went pretty well.”