#i wrote something down i could have used a while ago and i'd like to share it in case some one else could use it now i guess

[sapsolais]

!

[norrizzandpia]

Heyyy ages ago when you wrote "She's missed you" you mentioned you would write about reader being close to Oscar's family and taking his sister's for coffee, would you consider writing something like that please I'd love to read it

This has been in my inbox for some time but i remember when i first got it going, “FINALLY SOMEONE ASKED ME TO DO THIS” I absolutely love this idea i just didn’t know if that was something yall wanted to see!!

Y/n and the Piastri Sisters, the Piastri Sisters and Y/n

Summary: Oscar knew that Y/n and his sisters were close, but to wake up on a Saturday morning to find all of them gone, he wonders if he really underestimated how much the girls loved each other’s company.

Warnings: none, absolute FLUFF, cutest thing i think ive ever written lowkey, yn and Oscar being relationship GOALS (i want what they have), one remark about Oscar wanting to plan their wedding

What Oscar expects when he wakes is Y/n’s head shoved into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply as she slept. He’s always the one to wake up and, while he used to hate that when sleeping at his friends’ houses, he learned to cherish it. Cherish it because it gave him the opportunity to admire the beauty of his girlfriend when she wouldn’t see and blush whilst pushing him away. The soft dip at the top of her lip, the freckles around her nose, and the strands of her hair splayed across his pillow were all things he loved to stare at when he got the privilege of waking up before her. Yet, to his dismay, this morning when his eyes fluttered open, his girlfriend is nowhere to be found.

Frowning, he rises from the bed and looks around. Her clothes from last night are still flung over his desk chair, but her purse, the black bag that was right beside the clothing just hours before, is gone. His confused expression deepens and he moves to the bathroom, finding the door closed. He assumes she’s in there, maybe having brought her purse in because she had gotten her period and needed the tampons from it. However, that idea soon falls apart when he remembers the basket he’d set up underneath his sink with everything she could possibly need if she ever were to get it whilst at his house. And he knows there’s no way she has it seeing as two weeks ago she had pushed him away when he was trying to have… fun and told him it would be too messy.

Plus, the bathroom is weirdly silent and when he knocks on the door, “Baby?”, nobody answers. It creaks as he pushes it open and the small room is completely empty. Void of his girl.

The image of Oscar Piastri, in only his boxers, standing in the midst of his bathroom with knotted eyebrows and his arms stretched out at his side with his palms facing up would make anyone chuckle. He’s so genuinely lost at the lack of Y/n and it’s written all over him. From the way his eyes dart from the bed, maybe he had somehow missed her, to the door, it’s clear he’s trying to figure it all out in his head.

Finally, he comes to realize that the only logical explanation is that she’s downstairs or somewhere else in the house. So, his body takes him to the hallway outside. No Y/n. Then, he walks down to the kitchen and living room. No Y/n. Maybe the dining room? Nope.

Where the hell is Y/n?

He remembers a time when he was having trouble locating the girl and had only found her because her giggling had echoed throughout the whole house. That time, she had been with his sister in her room. Oscar loves how close his three sisters and Y/n are, but it makes him groan in annoyance when they steal his moments alone with her.

He goes to Hadie’s room first, but he finds it empty. Weird. Usually, the girl sleeps in late and, if not, she’s almost always in there.

Then, it’s Mae’s and he finds the same thing. Completely empty.

Lastly is Edie and he’s partially not surprised to find it’s empty as well.

Now, he’s wondering where his sisters are.

“Mom?!” He yells into the house, hoping his mother can alert him on where the majority of the women in his life have gone to.

He hears soft steps before his mother’s face appears at the bottom of the stairs, “Yes, love?”

Oscar patters down to her, looking completely helpless and lost. She frowns at him, noting her son’s lack of enthusiasm.

He huffs like a disgruntled toddler before whining, “Where’s Y/n? Or Hadie? Or Edie? Or Mae? I can’t find Y/n and when I went to look for her, I found all of them gone.”

Nicole chuckles before patting his shoulder lovingly, “They all went out to get Starbucks around thirty minutes ago.”

His head rears back, “What? Why? Why wasn’t I invited?”

Nicole smiles softly before turning around to walk into the kitchen. Oscar follows her closely behind, waiting for her answer, but she takes her time as she cleans dishes from, what he can assume, was her breakfast earlier.

Her hands wet and soapy, she lets her eyes drift to him, “They wanted girl time and Y/n didn’t want to wake you. She knew you were exhausted from the triple-header. She told me if you woke up running around the house and looking for her to tell you they’d be back soon and with coffee for you.”

He softens at that. How well she knows him always melts his heart. The exhaustion from all the races and the sleep he craved, she knew all too well. His coffee order, which he was confident she would get right, was something she had already thought of from the beginning of this escapade. The way she knew he would be slightly panicked, wanting her for their slow morning together, made him feel seen randomly. As she always says, to be loved is to be seen.

Still, he’s a bit disappointed he didn’t get to spend a morning with his sisters and his girlfriend. His mother must see this on his face because she shuts off the water and lays a hand over his.

“You know, it’s okay to feel left out, but you should also know that I’ve never seen any prior girlfriend of yours this close with your sisters. They look up to her and when she started reaching out, asking if they wanted to play games or go out and do something together, their eyes lit up. You’re entitled to want to be with them this morning, but promise me you’ll acknowledge the effort Y/n continuously puts in to bond with the girls you’ve always wanted to protect.” She states softly. Her eyes lock with Oscar’s and she recognizes the understanding in them, the sudden realization. Maybe he hadn’t picked up on how hard Y/n had been trying, but Nicole definitely had. She saw the way Y/n always brought up topics of conversation the sisters could relate to, the way she always listened to their every word, and the way she learned their interests before using those things to bond. Nicole will never forget Mae telling Y/n about a book she had read only for Y/n to come back a week later saying she had read the book and couldn’t wait to talk about it with Mae.

Nobody was really interested in reading in the Piastri family the way Mae was. But, now, there was Y/n.

Oscar nods, “I guess it never really dawned on me how close Y/n was to them, but I see it now. If they’re comfortable enough to be hanging out alone, without me, then I guess they’re further along than I thought.”

“You should’ve heard them leaving this morning. The amount of laughter leaving the door was the cutest. Not to mention the way they joked about having to fear for their life while Y/n drove and Y/n responding about turning into you. The girls have never sounded that excited.” Nicole’s smile is big. Oscar knows it’s because she always wanted a bigger sister the close-in-age sisters could have to guide them. He loves that his mother believes that to be Y/n.

A moment of silence passes before Oscar asks, “How’d this end up happening? I know they didn’t talk about going out this morning last night when Y/n got here. I know because I was with her the majority of the night. Did the girls wake up and ask her? Did they come into our room?”

Nicole shakes her head quickly, “No,” She laughs, “It was Y/n. Y/n set an alarm to wake herself up, I know because I heard it, and then surprised them all by waking them up from their beds and rambling about getting coffee in their pajamas. It was all her. I assume she’d been planning it since yesterday, but just forgot to tell you. When you went to the bathroom last night, she turned to me and asked if the girls had any plans in the morning. When I told her no, she just nodded her head with a smile and turned away.”

Oscar feels as though he could start planning the Y/l/n-Piastri wedding right then and there. To know she’s gone out of her way to get to know his siblings, someone she knows he loves so dearly, gives him confirmation Y/n and him are together for the long haul. Nobody has ever nurtured a relationship with his sisters this heavily before. He falls in love with her more because of it.

Just as he’s about to speak, the front door flies open and roars of laughter flood through. He smiles to himself before turning around to see his girlfriend in the midst of all the sisterly chaos. His eyes land on her first, seeing her looking at Hadie with a smile on her face. He’s not sure what Hadie’s done, but it seems to be the funniest thing she’s ever experienced with the way she’s almost doubled over in laughter. Edie stands next to her, but when some of her coffee spills out and onto the floor, all four girls almost fall to the floor, borderline wheezing. The laughter is infectious and Oscar finds himself joining in. He can only imagine the kind of heart eyes he must be sporting right now.

His steps take him closer to the girls and when Hadie sees him, her face contorts, “Ugh, not you. You’ve come to take her away!”

All his sisters nod as they cross their arms over their chests, mischievous grins on their faces. He only shakes his head, smiling at them too.

“It’s only fair, I’m afraid.” Y/n begins as she walks toward him. He pulls her into him by the waist and she smiles, kissing him on the cheek, before handing him his coffee, his order completely right. “You guys got me all morning and, not to mention, all last week when he was gone. I’ve got to tend to my girlfriend duties now.”

The sisters nod their heads slowly, begrudgingly. Oscar laughs at the fact that they most likely wish he didn’t exist so they could have Y/n all to themselves. Ironically, he adores that.

“You guys hung out all last week?” He asks when Y/n’s previous statement catch up to him.

They look at him as if it’s obvious. “Yeah,” Y/n says as he continues to hold her against him, “Who do you think convinced them to get matching pajamas?”

It’s only then that Oscar clocks the matching sets his girlfriends and sisters are all sharing. His mouth falls open and his cheeks redden. He’s not exactly sure why he blushes, but he thinks it’s because he can’t believe how lucky he’s gotten to have a girl like Y/n fall in love with him.

When all four girls start rambling, at first to him but then to each other, about how much they love their matching pajamas, Oscar feels eyes on him. His head moves to the side and he finds his mother peering her head around the corner to admire the scene in the doorway.

If the way his mother and sisters all look at Y/n tells him anything, it’s that they will not be letting her go for a while. Neither will he, though.

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

[kroosluvr]

present day

if every day will be like this from now on, i'll look forward to every single one.

ok. Sits down. help meeee i tried using csp's comic tools for once (and also gradient maps + coloring w monochrome) to save time bUT I ENDED UP SPENDING THE USUAL AMT ANYWAY SO. . erm. WELL IT WAS FUN ANYWAYS

hiiiiiiiii i wrote this script 4 months ago nd finally did it (had this on the backburner for 20 million yrs bc i wanted to get out other angst bullshit first)

the parallels of goro's back (x3) on the first 2 pgs are kinda not 1:1 as i'd like but REGARDLESS i still like them. goro, who had utmost control over his life, running it like a machine, regardless of how he feels or if he's tired or if he wants to give up.......he was in control. knowing, of course, that his life is on the line at every waking moment, but since he was always on edge, always alert, he was still in control.

but now, surviving the long winter and coming out to the other side, he's lost that control AND that edge. now what is he left with? what is there left?

very speficially in the 2nd page.... i think its so <3 YAY <3 that goro, now, doesn't feel the need to take such spic-and-span clean-cut care of his appearance.., guy who rolls out of bed and throws on a shirt to go hangout w akira and sumire. he decides to tie up his hair and forgoes his gloves... feels more "comfortable" to change his apperance, to let down his guard a little. <- was the rough symbolism JKDSHKFS

sumire getting the choco croissant but letting goro have the first bite YEAHHHH WHATEVER

4th page symbolism is also rough i didnt think abt it too hard LMAO. 3rdsem goro watching his detective prince self leave. he knows acutely well that chapter of his life is over - whether he survives the long winter or dies in it. all that he knew - even though it was miserable and awful and frustrating and dangerous - is gone.

and now there's just this: the present day. whatever that means.

i think something important to me abt royal trio is just the idea of Learning To Just Exist: no need for a "purpose" or a "calling" or some overarching "goal". they just learn to exist.

and of course none of them really have a benchmark for "wow i like this i want to live like this" so they just roll with the punches, as they always have, but yknow. finally getting to live their honest student life as they always deserved

edit: and most importantly for goro, i think, is learning to cut himself some slack. "despite everything" he says, despite all the shit he's endured AND all the shit he's done, he feels like this is "right." whatever that means, he's ready to take it day by day to figure it out. AND THATS THE WHOLE THING Punches wall really hard

edit: I ALSO FORGOT. i think the sentiment of "being waited for" for goro means a lot. since he had to do everything by himself, fight for himself, decide everything for himself frm such a young age, the idea of akira and sumire waiting for him, inviting him out simply for him to be there -> is really meaningful to him, more than they could know.

edit AGAIN: also goro sleeping in means a lot to me. i imagine that guy has pretty terrible insomnia. ALSO HE HAS A BEDFRAME! i like the thought of his apartment being so /r/malelivingspaces throughout the game. he doesn’t deserve a bedframe. BUT HE HAS ONE NOW!

goros expressions in the last page gve me a hard time. sparkly....

also im SO freaking sorry if his voice isnt too well-written... i had a crisis over the wording while draiwng htis so much DSKHASKDASJK AND THE PANELING AND WHATEVERRR IDEK WHAT IM DOINGGG but it was fun!!!! exploratory..... regardless i will keep workign to do him and royaltrio justice. THUMBSUP EMOJI.

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[weird-is-life]

hello! how’s your day?i hope it’s great

can i request something like childhood friend!reader x spencer reid to lover? i love that trope and i always imagine spencer reid in it

perhaps they’ve met again on the case and reader was the victim?

it’s totally fine if you can’t wrote that, have a great day!<3

Hiii lovely🥰, ty so much for this request! I loooved writing this trope. Warnings: like one swear word, little angsty, fluff, pet names, use of y/n, mentions of food, mentions of crime (1.5k)

Spencer and you met by accident after so many years. Spencer couldn't believe his eyes as he saw you walk out of the interrogation room at the Bau.

He didn't understand what his childhood best friend was doing at his workplace office.

Seeing your sorrow expression he didn't need anything else to know that you were one of the many witnesses of the latest series of violent bank robberies.

And it made his heart stop for a second. Wanting to meet you...-wanting to see you again after so many years was always somewhere deep at the back of his mind, but he didn't exactly want to see you walk out out of the interrogation room.

He freezed for a moment. He wasn't expecting to see you there, and it definitely caught him off guard.

You, on the other hand, hoped you'd run into Spencer that day. You knew he worked for the FBI. You maybe even secretly hoped that he'd be the one you'd have to explain what exactly had happened at the bank.

He didn't. So finally seeing him managed to bring a smile to your upset face.

You ignored his lovely colleague Emily as she instructed you on something, and headed straight towards Spencer.

"Spencer, hi, I can't believe it's you," you said breathlessly as you neared him, his eyes scanning you intensively.

Spencer swallowed hard. You two were just some kids the last time you saw each other, but right now....Right now, Spencer couldn't believe his eyes. You might have just been the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

His shock was even bigger when you threw your arms around his neck, and hugged him sincerely. Spencer, for once, managed to handle the shock, and hugged you back.

It was an effort for you not to end up on the floor from the way your legs almost turned into a jello. When the fuck did Spencer get so hot? That was the only thing on your mind, even the horrors of the roberry gone.

"Hi, it's been so long, too long," Spencer beamed at you, giving you one-over one more time.

"I know," you gave him a small smile," I wanted to reach out to you since I'd moved here a few months ago, but I didn't want to intrude into your life."

"Intrude? You could never," Spencer immediately reassured you, and you didn't look too convinced," seriously, I mean it."

You just nodded, and Spencer asked you, "How have you been? Were-were you a part of some roberry?"

"Y-yeah, it...it wasn't very pretty, I-" you tried to find the right words, but you realised that there were multiple sets of eyes on you and Spencer. He realised it, too.

With his quick thinking, he said, "I'm sorry, my friends can be really nosy," he glared at somebody (Derek) as he said it," would you..- are you hungry?"

"There's a cafeteria a few floors down.....We could talk there? Catch up on everything?" Spencer proposed with a little hope.

"Yeah, I think, I'd like that," you told him, and you let him guide you towards the elevator with his hand on your lower back.

It definitely did not send butterflies down to your belly with every step you took. The old, forgotten feelings flickering inside you both.

-

That happened a few months ago now, and you couldn't help but to smile as you remembered the meeting while waiting in a small caffè for Spencer to come.

He is running late. You don't mind the wait because you know it's not his fault. His job isn't easy. So waiting the few minutes is worth it.

You and Spencer have been going on these coffee......runs since you've reunited the few months ago. But you keep hoping, wishing that they will turn into coffee dates rather just some friendly coffee runs.

It's save to say that seeing Spencer after so many years made some new feelings surface. Feelings that weren't there before, and you don't know what to do with them.

Well, you do, but you're terrified of the idea of Spencer's rejection. You don't think you'd be able to live in the same city as him if he indeed did reject you.

But you can't keep going out with him, and have him smiling at you like like you're the only person on this earth for him. You just can't keep up with it anymore.

You've decided that today is the day you tell him how you feel. No matter what. Even if it's most likely going to leave you heartbroken.

Spencer pulls you out of your thoughts when he rounds the table you sit at, and leans down to give you a quick hug and a kiss......a kiss on a cheek.

It leaves you breathless, and it's exactly why you need to tell him about your feelings because this is just cruel, sweet torture you can't endure any longer.

"Hi, I'm so sorry I'm late. Hotch had us hand in all of the reports, so I needed to finish a few things," he tells you as he settles in the seat opposite of you.

His coffee is already waiting on the table in front of him, and he gives you a thankful nod.

"It's okay, Spence. I don't mind," you give him a tight smile, the nerves rushing through your body.

Spencer, damn his profiling skills, immediately senses that something is off. "What's wrong?" He reaches across the table for your hand, but you pull it away quickly. You could swear that there was a hurt in his eyes just as you did.

"I-....I need to tell you something," you quickly blurt out.

"You can tell me anything, yeah?" He assures you. This time without trying to touch your hand. You don't look into his eyes while he tries to catch your gaze.

"I can't keep going for a coffee with you anymore."

Spencer now definitely looks hurt after your first sentence, and you cringe. You didn't mean to start like that.

"Shit," you curse quietly," what I mean to tell you is that.......is that-." You can't find the right words.

"I like you, Spencer," you blurt out," mo-more than just a friend." Spencer just looks at you. Completely baffled, and he doesn't utter a single word.

You think he's just a little shocked, but as the minutes go by, and he still doesn't say anything, you understand. He doesn't feel the same, and then there's horror in your eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Spencer," you scramble quickly to take all your stuff," I'm really sorry." And with that, you are out of there faster than a lightning.

You swiftly run out of the caffè as the tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You don't even know where you are going, but you don't care you just want to get as far away from Spencer as possible.

Of course, you don't even take 30 steps before a hand gently catches you by your elbow. You, even just by the touch of his hand, know that it's Spencer.

"Wait," he pleads," please, y/n." You stop, and slowly you turn around. Spencer scans your upset face, the tears on your cheeks, and his own heart breaks.

He didn't mean to stay quiet like that. It just...-It caught him off guard. He wasn't, even in his wildest dreams, thinking of you actually liking him back. Like there wasn't a single reality where he saw that happening. And yet.... And yet, you like him, and he can't believe it.

"It's okay, Spence," you start.

"But it's not, I'm sorry-"

You interrupt him, "I understand that you don't feel the same."

"No, no, sweetheart. I do. I feel exactly the same way you do," he confesses softly, hoping you believe his words after the initial mess up of his.

"Spencer, you don't have to lie....-"

Spencer almost looses it when you say that, because he could never be that cruel to you. Never. And he doesn't get why you don't believe him, so he does something that hopefully will finally let you see the truth.

Spencer kisses you.

Spencer kisses you?

What?

You don't really realise it, until he's pulling away, sorry eyed, his soft, warm lips immediately something you miss. You don't let him get far away from your lips as you crash them again against his. Your one hand goes into his hair, and his hair is just as soft to the touch as it looks like.

Spencer's kiss is intense and gentle at the same time, and it makes your knees buckle, maybe just from the sheer joy of your feelings being reciprocated. You tighten your grip on his shoulder.

Spencer notices it, smiling into the kiss, before he pulls away. There's a happy glint in his eyes, and you are sure yours look the same.

Spencer beams at you. "I'd never lie to you. Ever."

"I know."

You smile sheepishly at him, "I just got too into my head to listen to you. I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Spencer looks at you amused. Right. Of course, he's not sorry about the kiss. And neither are you, you could never be.

Spencer offers you his hand," how about I'll tell you all about how crazy I feel about you while we go for a walk?"

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot, Spencer." The bright smile doesn't leave your or even Spencer's face as you begin to walk.

[teaboot]

I spent a lot of time alone outdoors growing up.

A lot of time.

It got to the point that some days I'd be sitting in the back of my dull beige classroom, and on the outside I'd be staring out into nothing but on the inside I'd be remembering how it felt being barefoot and knee-deep in sun-warmed mud, cutting my palms and soles to bits against craggy rock, leaning into the wind and screaming into the ocean, sprinting through the woods and standing dead silent in the dark in a wheat field in a thunderstorm, and feeling grit under my nails and bone and wood and rock and metal in my hands

And I'd look around at my stupid, flimsy pressboard desk, and the beige walls, and the grey ceiling, and feel soft, stagnant air circulate through the vents in delicate, dainty little puffs against my cheeks, and listen to kids my age who I couldn't understand and didn't feel connected to talk about things that made my brain go numb and melt out my ears while some fake-smiley adult pretended they knew how I felt

While back home where my siblings didnt know me and my parents didn't like me the house would be dark, empty, and cold, day after day, and the only satisfaction I knew I'd get would be if someone twice my size and three times my age got in my face and fucking tried it,

And I'd think,

This isn't real.

This is designed, and this is weak.

This is cardboard façades with nothing inside, this is tissue paper, this is Styrofoam packing peanuts and puffed rice wafers and the bottom three millimeters of day-old room-temperature water

And I'd get so fucking angry, so frustrated, just so stone-cold livid, helpless and furious, that sometimes I'd start to cry, not because I was sad but because my teeth were soft and round and dull and my fingers felt like they were brand-new pink pearl erasers splitting in half and everything was too much and not enough and all I needed in the whole wild world was to shred the air to pieces for the crime of being too fucking empty, too fucking soft, not *real* enough, like a wild animal clawing into prey only to have puffy cotton candy and soap bubbles spill out, sweet and tasteless and saccharine where it should be hot, bright, loud and solid and sharp.

So when the English teacher- a tall, thin man with glasses who smelled like strong patchouli and liked to ask us to "talk about our feelings" asked me to write about my life, that was what I wrote.

He told me I had a "powerful gift" and smiled, flashing straight, dull, soft round teeth.

I remember he'd ask me every day if he could read my work aloud to the class, every single day, and every day I would say "no", until one afternoon he just took my paper off my desk and did it anyways.

I was a rule-follower. Never broke the rules, never stepped out of line. I would never just leave class in the middle of a lesson, so I guess for a moment I was someone else.

I don't remember hearing him start to speak, but I remember sprinting out the door, hearing it slam behind me, and just not stopping until I was somewhere outside with the grass and the sky and the sun and a ringing inside my head.

After a while, I went back, and by then I guess he'd finished talking.

I sat down at my desk and finished the lesson.

I thought I'd be in trouble or something after that, but nobody mentioned it.

After the bell, I went home to the dark, cold, empty house and waited for something to fight.

That was years ago. Decades, now.

To tell you the truth, though, I don't think anything has changed.

[comicaurora]

Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.

That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!

If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?

Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.

Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3

You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-

Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.

In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.

I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.

Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-

Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.

It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.

And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."

Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.

It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.

[heybank]

umm so i wrote a little fic/blurb idk i don't think it's good but it's something that's been stuck in my head for a while with my own little oc named grace but her name is only mentioned a few times so it could totally be ignored and seen as reader.

anyway this is my first ever fic so please be kind to me and if you have suggestions or other fic ideas i'd love to hear them.

not proof read and lowercase intended.

and if you think it's awful please lie to me i'm fragile 😔

deny

you are a lover girl. a hopeless romantic, someone who dreams of finding "the one" and living happily ever after. kie often says you tend to fall in love a little with everyone you meet. you can't help it though, you have so much love in you, it feels like you'll burst at the seams if you don't share it with others.

you think you're in love with your best friend jj maybank. no one understands you the way the wild blond haired boy does. no one can communicate with you with just a single look the way jj does. no one makes your heart beat out of your chest and your tummy flutter the way his dimpled smile does, eyes crinkling at the corners, a slight sunburn on his nose because lord know that boy doesn't use the sunscreen you bought him.

so yeah you're in love with jj maybank but then yesterday a different boy kissed you. pope heyward, your other best friend, genius extraordinaire whom you thought was maybe in love with kie but no- he kissed you and you felt a tingle in your ever beating heart. heat filled your cheeks and your ears became fuzzy. that was a new feeling when it came to pope. it made you excited to explore because as much as you love jj, you don't think the boy would ever return your undying affection because your friendship meant too much.

----

you stood in the threshold of popes bedroom, gasp stuck in your throat, eyes wide and mouth open at the sight before you. you’re not sure how to process what you’re seeing.

before you on the bed that pope kissed you on not even 24 hours ago, is jj maybank, your closest friend, kissing the heyward boy.

so many emotions flow through you at the sight before you.

shock because not once has jj; or pope for that matter mentioned or even hinted that they liked men- or each other. then again, jj has always liked beautiful people and pope is certainly that.

sadness because you and pope had literally just kissed. maybe you were naive to think a simple kiss meant something more to the boy, but it was pope, you don't think there's a mean bone in his body. then again you’ve always been too much of a romantic, too blinded to really see what’s in front of you. blinded by your want and need to be loved that perhaps you create situations in your mind that you interpret as reality? maybe you need to contact your therapist again. you're sounding even more delusional than before.

lastly, you feel jealousy. the angry green monster rumbling around in your tummy, making its way up your throat. you’re not sure what exactly is making you jealous because the image of the two boys kissing is surely confusing. are you jealous because pope is kissing another person who isn’t you? a part of you is jealous because he’s kissing jj. or maybe it’s that jj is kissing pope or that maybe they’re kissing eachother and they're not kissing you? you're not sure at this point. dear diary jealousy is a disease babes, and you are infected.

you must have made a noise because next thing you know, the two boys are pulling apart, a string of spit still connecting them and for a second your love rattled brain is jealous of it. the spit that is, because deep down you’ve always known that you wanted them both… to be the one to connect them. you feel slightly crazy being jealous of spit.

jjs face goes beat red and then flushes pale, like a ghost. he looks terrified and like he might vomit all over the floor in a second.

“grace!” popes panicked voice reaches your ears but they’re still kind of ringing from the shock of seeing your supposedly straight best friends kiss.

in your heartbroken haze you wonder if you're being a bad ally right now. you love the gays you swear! you just never pictured pope and jj as being a part of the gays ™.

you clear your throat, “jb and kie are waiting for us downstairs. we were going out on the boat today, remember?”

you try and say that as gently as possible because jj still looks like he’s going to pass out and pope isn’t much better.

popes hands are shaking as he reaches for you and a part of you wants to pull away but you’re not mean. you’ve never been mean so even if your feelings are hurt you’ll always put your best friends feelings above your own. and it looks like pope needs to touch you. maybe to hold your hand and reassure him you’re really standing there, witnessing something that you probably shouldn’t have.

so many emotions flicker through popes eyes. you can’t really see his blush but you’re sure if you touch his face it would be hotter than the sun.

pope grabs your hands in his shaking ones. you can feel how clammy they are and you hazard a look back to jj who has yet to even move. you’re a little concerned he’s gone into shock.

you let out a soft sigh and smile at the boys, a smile that is mostly genuine.

you squeeze popes hand and make eye contact with the panicked blonde boy on the bed.

“it’s ok jj. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” you speak kindly, as if you’re talking to a scared feral cat.

you only see jj swallow hard. “for what it’s worth, i understand the appeal... wanting to kiss pope and all.” you tease hoping to cut the obvious tension in the room. you feel like you're the one choking now.

jj and pope both let out huffs like they’re afraid to laugh but also relieved you’re not upset.

“you’re not mad?” jj croaks like he still has a frog lodged in his throat. he looks at you with soft wonder, like you’re the best thing in his life. his stare makes your tummy flutter.

“of course not. you guys are my best friends. i only ever want you to be happy!” you reply honestly. jj deserves happiness after the shit life he’s been dealt. he deserves good things and if you have to set aside your feelings in order for him to have good things then by golly you’ll do that.

“grace, about yesterday-“ pope starts off,

“don’t worry buddy, already forgotten.” you cut him off. hopefully saving him the strife of having to apologize to you about the kiss and saving you the embarrassment of him telling you he regrets your kiss. you don't think you could survive hearing that out loud.

you march over to jj still holding popes hand, effectively dragging the boy with you. you throw your arms tightly around jjs neck and after a heartbeat, jj returns your hug. you move your head to look at pope and nod at him, encouraging him to join the hug.

“now c’mon. you know how pissy jb gets when he’s made to wait” you giggle.

you lead the boys out of popes room and home and into the twinkie without giving them an option of saying no.

“finally! i thought y’all died or something. what took so long” john b huffs in exasperation.

“my fault jb!” you quickly chirp so the boys don’t have to panic and think of a lie “pope showed me the new book he got and it’s my favourite and i starting gushing and you know me i can’t shut up and… well i forgot why i went up to get them in the first place” you giggle with a sheepish smile.

“you’re so lucky you’re cute, grace” kie laughs teasingly.

you see pope and jj making eye contact. you have a feeling you might need to play therapist for them soon. pope doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings without beating around the bush and well, jjs favourite thing to do is deny deny deny.

actually, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do too! deny you have feelings for pope. deny you have feelings for jj. deny you ever saw them kiss and deny that them kissing only upset you because you weren’t a part of it. deny that a part of you enjoyed it. deny that your feelings matter in this situation and deny that if given the chance, you’d love to be in between a beautiful jj maybank and pope heyward sandwich.

yep, deny deny deny. this is gonna be a long freaking summer.

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | series masterlist

Hi, and welcome to Bora Ranch!

At Bora Ranch you will rediscover who you are, reconnect with your sister, and your childhood friend, Park Jimin, that will stir old feelings back. There's a lot of ups and downs, a lot of heartbreak, misunderstandings, what ifs, bad timing, but in the end, you will know what truly makes your heart beat, and where your heart's home is.

It's a story that will take you on a heartbreaking journey to find out what love is and the meaning of 'home', coming home and finding love. There's a lot of angst in it, I'd call it HEALING ANGST. Everything will be good in the end! Just have to go through a lot of heartbreak before the sun truly shines. There's a lot of soulmates vibes/undertones in it, and it's a lovestory at it's core. It's very romancey (Why do I suddenly feel like I wrote a YA but with mature language???).

This story is HEAVLY inspired by McLoed's Daughters (both the world/setting/plot), some plot points follow that story, but most of it doesn't.

“It will take some time To find your heart And come back home You could walk for miles Cross every river And find your not alone ‘Cos I'll be there” - From McLeod’s Daughters theme song

🐴 Summary: You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite? 🐴 Pairing: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter)*, jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc *I also want to clarify some things about the tags/pairings! Jungkook x reader only happens once, it is crucial for the sake of the plot, but please don't let that stop you from reading it (I take it you want to read it because of Jimin x reader). Jimin x reader is the main couple! 🐴 Characters: female reader (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴 AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au 🐴 Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst (yes, it’s got everything lol!) 🐴 Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! 🐴 Word count: 230k (epilogue excluded) 🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴 Warnings/tag: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain sexual themes, smut and a lot of sexual tension and a hell of a lot of angst! Like series is an emotional rollercoaster ride, it will leave you both happy, sad, frustrated, mad, angry and oh so in love. All through the series. You have been warned, lol. 🐴 Status: completed 🥳 🐴 Fancy reading on AO3? It is cross-posted there! 🐴 Do you want to see the book cover (there's a teaser too)? [it's here] 🐴 Author’s note: this series is heavily inspired by the TV show McLeod’s Daughters. Some plot points will feel familiar, while others won’t (because I don’t follow that story structure to a tee). But If you love that show that I do, I’m 100% sure you’ll love this story too! Also, I don’t expect people to really be interested in this… this is more of a story about coming home, finding home, finding love and such… and I don’t know if you want to read that sort of thing? But I fucking love it! ✨

Chapter #1 - Inheritance | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter one

Chapter #2 - It’s a Long Road | word count: 9.1k | read → chapter two

Chapter #3 - Sometimes | word count: 11.8k | read → chapter three

Chapter #4 - It Comes to This | word count: 7.5k | read → chapter four

Chapter #5 - Our Home, Our Place | word count: 11k | read → chapter five

Chapter #6 - Wild Horses | word count: 11k | read → chapter six

Chapter #7 - We Got it Wrong | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter seven

Chapter #8 - Love You, Hate You | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter eight

Chapter #9 - Take the Rain Away | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter nine

Chapter #10 - The First Touch | word count: 16.4k | read → chapter ten

Chapter #11 - This Perfect Day | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter eleven

Chapter #12 - Broken Dreams | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter twelve

Chapter #13 - Love Letter | word count: 13.4k | read → chapter thirteen

Chapter #14 - I Wish the Past was Different | word count: 10.5k | read → chapter fourteen

Chapter #15 - Did I Tell You? | word count: 13.7k | read → chapter fifteen

Chapter #16 - The Stranger | word count: 14.1k | read → chapter sixteen

Chapter #17 - Love of Your Life | word count: 13.3k | read → chapter seventeen

Chapter #18 - By My Side | word count: 14.7k | read → chapter eighteen

Chapter #19 - Home [END] | word count: 18.2k | read → chapter nineteen

Chapter #20 - My Heart's Home [Epilogue + Q&A] | word count: 7.4k | read → chapter twenty

Please let me know if you're excited for this??? I'm still writing it, and honestly... I love it! But it's tough to write such a long series without any feedback or knowledge whether it's good or sucks... so.. yeah....

[what-eats-owls]

Show vs Tell, Or: Please Stop Making Things Difficult for Yourself

I said a while ago that I'd write a brief essay about the most misused craft advice in writing once I wrote 10k words, and for once I actually held myself to that! So now, I'm here to tell you about Show vs Tell, or why people make it more complicated than it needs to be.

First, a basic primer for anyone who hasn't heard this term before: "Show vs Tell"/"Showing vs Telling" refers to "showing" the audience information instead of "telling" it to them. You may be thinking, gosh, that sounds unspecific to the point of being readily misapplied, and you would certainly be right! Lots of folks throw it around without fully grasping what it means, how to use it, or when it doesn't actually apply. And I'd really like everyone to stop making it harder on themselves when there's a very straightforward way to conceptualize it.

So for starters, Chuck Palahniuk has an old but good essay about eliminating "thought" verbs from prose that holds the hell up. But I'm going to tell you an even simpler way to conceptualize the difference between showing and telling:

Eliminate the inner thoughts entirely.

Ask yourself, if my narrator's interior monologue was inaccessible to the audience, how would I convey the same information—literally showing it?

Forget for a moment that your medium is the word, and imagine you only have dialogue and visuals. If this was taking place on the screen or in a graphic novel, how would you convey that this character has a crush on someone in their class? That they're hotheaded? That they're struggling with a decision?

Here's a perfect example of this from the opening scene of Howl's Moving Castle.

Devoid of context, we have a girl trying on a hat in a mirror, and also trying on a fake smile. Then her expression sours and she pulls the hat down over her face until we can only see her frown. She's wearing a plain dress and the hat is simple, despite the elaborate hats and ornaments on display around her.

You don't have to know anything about this character to understand what's being conveyed in this moment: This girl is deeply uncomfortable with trying to be pretty and flirty, but in the safety of privacy she wants that, even though she feels inept and self-conscious about it. She's in this world, but she's not part of it. Even brushing up against it for a moment makes her shut down and reject it with hostility.

More importantly, it's all communicated with a simple gesture and design choices. Not by Sophie thinking to herself, I wish someone would take me dancing—no I don't! I work too hard to have time for dancing!

That's showing. And it's more resonant, because we've all felt silly trying something on in a mirror! Or, say, if you want to show a character has a crush, having them get flustered and laughing too loud. Or showing that they're a hothead by having them snap at a simple disagreement, etc. etc.

This also extends to worldbuilding, dialogue, and stakes.

Worldbuilding: If your story is set in a town run by a crooked sheriff, you could have the narrator say "everyone knows Sheriff Smith is squeezing the shops for bribes." Or the sheriff can stop the narrator for "smelling like weed" while the sheriff's drunken son speeds by, about to total his third BMW.

Dialogue: If your character is angry, they can say "I'm furious." Or they can slam dishes in the sink and insist "I'm not angry" while openly crying. They can snap "I'm not discussing this again." They can demand "What is he doing here?"

Stakes: You can have an all-seeing oracle say "If you do not return the Mystic Orb to the Sunlight Altar by the solstice, the world will plunge forever into darkness." (And as we'll get into it below, sometimes you actually need that.) You can also have intermittent but increasing periods of total darkness occurring as the party travels to the Sunlight Altar. You can have the Mystic Orb start cracking the longer it takes, and the sun getting a little dimmer with every fracture. You can have people's shadows growing bigger and bigger and acting autonomously.

But showing isn't the end-all-be-all; telling absolutely has a place. Sometimes it's better to quickly and plainly state information and move on, such as a little earlier in the scene, when the other hat shop girls have spotted Howl's castle:

"Look, it's Howl's castle!"

"I've never seen it so close!"

“Do you think Howl will go into town?”

“He’s gone!”

“No, he’s just hiding in the fog from those planes.”

“Did you hear what happened to that girl, Martha, in South Haven? They say Howl has torn her heart out.”

“Now I’m too scared to go out!”

“Don’t worry. He only preys on pretty girls.”

This tells us some stuff directly: Who owns the castle we see in the first few seconds, that he's hiding from soldiers, that he has a reputation for preying on beautiful girls. We can infer also that he's a bit of a coward, he stays away from civilization, and that his reputation for cruelty has spread over multiple regions.

This happens so quickly, and it's couched in enough character between the teasing and the gossip, that it doesn't stand out as capital-t-Telling. That's exactly what expository dialogue should do. "Showing" us all that information would take a lot of screen time that can be saved in ten seconds of dialogue.

It's also not just about saving time; it's setting up an image that Howl initially fulfills when he helps Sophie escape the soldiers... only to be punctured when she actually goes to his castle and sees the real Howl. Telling is good for setting expectations that you know will be subverted later.

So yeah, tl;dr: If you're tied up in knots about "am I showing?? am I telling??" just ask yourself how you'd convey the same information in a movie or graphic novel, without access to interior monologue, and evaluate if that'd be better. Most of the time the answer is yes, but not always!

[unreliablesnake]

Dirty little secrets (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Ghost finds out you are fuck buddies with Graves, and now he wants a piece of you too.

Note: Mare is the code name of the reader.

Warnings: None, which is surprising considering the amount of smut I wrote lately. Afab!reader.

Graves pulled you into a big hug when you met again. By then you were a member of the 141, but he always said, "once a Shadow, always a Shadow." You had worked for him for about four years, by the end as the lead interrogator. Shadows had their own rules, being brutal was something Shadow Company usually appreciated. And you could be brutal when needed.

"Are they treating you right? You know you can come back to us anytime," he said with a smirk, his hands moving down to your lower back.

With a polite smile you pried him off of you, stepping back to build some distance. "Everything's great," you replied shortly.

He tilted his head to the side as he examined your face, probably trying to find out why you were so cold all of a sudden. You couldn't blame him, but you couldn't let the others know that back in the day the two of you were fuck buddies. You loved his arrogance and sense of humor, and his boyish charm was the cherry on top.

Soap appeared before Graves could say anything, greeting him like an old friend. The two engaged in a conversation, while behind you Ghost began to move around, his size making it impossible for him to stay undetected in this situation.

"Mare, come on, we have things to do," he told you as he passed by.

You nodded and followed him, out of the corner of your eye noticing how Graves wanted to object when he saw you leave. Once you were out of earshot, you turned to the lieutenant. "What exactly do we have to do?"

He let out a questioning hum, but immediately realized what you were asking him. "Oh, nothing. I just saw how uncomfortable you were when Graves became all touchy during that hug. Thought you might want to be away from him," he explained. "Is he like this with every female employee?"

"No," you replied immediately, maybe sounding a little offended by the idea.

"Just asking. I guess there's a story then." Letting out a long sigh, you nodded. Ghost looked down at you, studying your face with an intrigued expression. "You were together?" You remained silent and his eyes grew a little wider. "You're still together?"

For a moment you wondered how much you should tell him, after all you've been trying to keep it a secret from them. But strangely enough, he made you feel safe, probably because this man seemed to be good at keeping secrets. "We're not. We're just… friends with benefits," you admitted.

"He looks like the type of guy who's into that, but I didn't think you would like it," he noted as you walked into the hangar.

"We're having fun without the commitment of a relationship."

He watched as you hopped on a table, eyes glued to you the whole time. You could tell he was still thinking about the idea of you and Graves occasionally having sex, probably judging you for being this open-minded. But you didn't mind. He could think whatever he wanted.

"And how does it work now that you don't work together?" he suddenly asked, his arms now folded over his chest.

With a smile, you replied, "A few weeks ago he got on his plane and flew over to visit me."

"He took his private jet for a trip to have sex with you?" When you nodded, he whistled. "If I needed it that badly I'd just go to the nearest pub and pick up some bimbo," he said.

"You're into bimbos?"

Ghost shrugged. "They're easier to impress. Much less effort than impressing girls like you."

"Was it a compliment?" you asked with a playful smile.

"Maybe."

He was watching you, eyes intense and dark as he thought about something. You knew that while he was silent, his mind was probably insanely loud at the moment. "What?" you spoke up, getting bored of his silence.

"Nothing," he brushed you off.

"Come on, Ghost, I can see the wheels turning in your head."

Taking a deep breath, he clearly considered answering your question. Then he nodded, letting you know he was ready to give you a glimpse into his mind. "Why did you leave Shadow Company if you were having fun with Graves?"

"Price said some things that made me come here."

"Like what?"

You smiled and let out a small laugh. "I know you recommended me," you informed him.

Ghost gulped, but he quickly recovered and soon stepped between your legs, using his knee to push them wider apart so he could fit in there. You nervously looked around to see how many people were staring at you, but there was no one near. He put his hands on your knees, gently stroking your skin through your pants to get your attention.

"Why did you recommend me? Something tells me there was a personal reason," you told him, hoping he would finally say something.

"I think I saw you and Graves once." With a frown, you let out a questioning hum. "We were working together on something and I needed you for an interrogation. Someone told me you went to get something from the plane, and sure enough, you were there," he began before leaning really close to you so his deep voice dropped to a whisper, "being eaten out by someone."

That smug bastard was smiling, you could see that in his eyes. But you couldn't be mad when you were embarrassed, wishing you could crawl into a hole and die. "I don't even want to know what you think about me after that," you said.

But Ghost only tilted his head to the side as he studied your face. Your skin was burning under his gaze so you looked away, but he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him forcefully. "I've been thinking about what it would feel like to be the reason why you make those sounds," he finally told you.

You felt the heat building up in your core, every cell now yearning for more; his touch, his kiss, any kind of physical contact, really. Ever since you had joined the 141, you'd been on good terms with Ghost, the two of you often drinking together at night, and he even told you some personal details. You knew he had nightmares. You knew he had a traumatic childhood. You knew--

"Mare, are you in here?"

Graves. Fuck. You instinctively pushed Ghost away, who only moved because your actions took him by surprise. "Damn it," you muttered as you jumped off the table and gave him an almost worried look. "Nothing happened," you told him before walking away.

You met the commander halfway, flashing a nervous smile at him the moment you stopped in front of him. "Is everything okay?" he asked, putting a hand on your flushed cheek.

No. Nothing was okay. You wanted to find out what Ghost really wanted from you. Was it just sex? Did he get the courage to act on his dirty fantasies because he knew you were fuck buddies with Graves? There were too many questions for your liking.

"I'm good," you managed to say in the end. "Let's talk somewhere else. Do you have booze?" you asked with a laugh.

As you walked away, you turned back for a short moment, not missing the way Ghost stood there with his hands stuffed into his pockets, watching you leave without saying a word.

[kookiecrumb]

JJK || Scandalous

pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader

summary: After coming home from his Vegas shows, Jungkook defends his fidelity in a bold way.

tags: smut (18+), idol!jungkook, semi-angry sex that turns mushy, lil rough, oral (m&f receiving), bigdick!jk, manhandling, horny grinding, penetration

warnings: cheating accusations, strong language warning, unsafe sex* (please use protection)

a/n: I was high while I wrote half of this. Here.

-

"I know what you were doing in Vegas. Don't you try to lie to me or throw me off because I have evidence," you shout at him.

Jungkook is laying across your couch, infuriatingly unbothered.

"Evidence of me with another woman. Sure. Like I'd leave the love of my life for a random girl I've never seen before," Jungkook shakes his head, amused.

"Oh, so you're laughing now?!" You mock his smile. "You're laughing, having the time of your life because you cheated in Vegas and you think you're gonna get away with it."

"Yeah. I do. Because that's not some random girl in that picture-- that's our translator!" Jungkook screams. "It's our fucking translator and she was helping me buy a drink. I was looking out for the rest of the guys."

"Hm!"

"I don't believe you," you mutter, zooming into the picture that was circulating through stan Twitter just minutes ago.

News articles have already gotten to work spreading their rumors and dating scandals and it pissed you off beyond anything.

"Of course you don't," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "You know what? Why don't you call Namjoon, then? He was there. Ask anyone. I'm not a fucking cheater, y/n."

At this point, Jungkook was getting heated and you were afraid that if you doubted him one more time he would snap at you.

It's early in the morning, so calling Namjoon wasn't an option. He's probably asleep.

There's no use in fighting, so you need to find a way to redirect this energy into something a little more palettable for the both of you.

"Prove it then," you challenge.

"Prove what?"

"Prove that you wouldn't ever fuck another woman. Fuck me like you hate me."

Jungkook's fists unravel and his face relaxes. His eyes intensify and his demeanor changes completely. He's aroused.

"That's right. You get a boner every time I yell at you. You just want to shut me up with your dick, don't you? I'll believe you if you can dick me down by force," you speak.

"I'm not gonna dick you down by force while we're fighting," Jungkook crosses his arms.

"Aww...I respect your decision. I just thought you might have wanted a chance to prove me wrong, Kookie..." you pout, climbing into his lap.

His strong hands grip your hips immediately and he holds you that way as he tries to maintain his pride.

"Besides..."

You lean closer to his ear, rasping softly, and say: "it's not like she could ever do it like me."

"God damn it, y/n. You can't do that. You can't be a fucking brat and piss me off so that you get it rough," he protests, his ears turning red.

You swirl your fingers up his chest and smirk a little. "Yeah right...I can do whatever I want..."

Jungkook bites his lip, a surge of anger overcoming him as he struggles to keep his composure. "That's now how you get things."

You hum, ruffling your fingers through his black hair softly. "Hm. Show me, then..." you play.

He takes deep breaths, his chest inflating beneath your hands on his clothed chest as he spreads his palms on your ass and kneads you stupidly rough. "You're impossible."

"I know..."

Jungkook collapses his lips into yours gently. The kiss is smooth and delicate, reminiscent of an apology for making you even think he'd be the kind of person to hurt you.

From then on, a cocktail of pain and pleasure clouds your vision and you fall under the spell of sweet desire.

"Fuck, fuck--" you gasp as his mouth migrates to the lower half of your body, his strong hands framing your thighs. He dives between your hips and pins them down.

With stunted breath above your cunt, Jungkook gazes up with his dazzled eyes and takes you into his mouth.

You pry open your legs and he throws you back down and presses his tongue inside you. Hungry, he adjusts his posture.

You look over his back, textured by hard-earned muscle, and slightly glowing. "Mmh--" you whimper. God, you're helpless for how jacked he is.

Fuck, you melt for him.

"Just like that, wifey," he encourages you, snaking up your body and gathering you in his arms. He takes your hands and places them above his hips, dragging them downwards.

Jungkook connects his mouth to your neck and kisses you.

You know how to touch him the way he needs, so you wrap your hand around him, scarcely closing it, and stroke him languidly.

He lets out a breathy groan, riding your fist with ease. "Hh-- aaahh,"

Jungkook is cocky about the size of his dick. He's overtly aware of the fact that it's impressive. Because of that, he'll say things like:

"Yeah, slut, take my fat cock," Jungkook pants out. He closes his eyes as you climb over him and pop his cock in your mouth.

Jungkook breaks into a smile, relaxing his shoulders into the pillows beneath him. He sinks into the bed, focusing on the feeling of your hot mouth on his cock.

You lap at his most sensitive spots, spreading your tongue on his shaft and kissing the tip generously.

Beneath his breath, Jungkook begs. "fuck, yes, yes, yeah, mm, yeah, yes~"

His ringed fingers are holding the sheets beneath him, his exposed body in full display for you. This is a view only one woman has the right to.

With a breath through your nose and a little bit of courage, you take him in your throat and swallow around him.

His legs twitch as he rips out a groan, followed by a slew of beautiful curses. "Babe-- ,, ohh-- babe--" he whines.

One last kiss to his pretty pink tip and your thighs are over his, rubbing your swollen cunt against his dick.

He captures you in a sweet kiss, ridden with pleasurable noise and skipped breaths. Jungkook stretched his hands around your breasts and holds them, squeezing them with each rocking thrust.

Hastily, he grabs a hold of your legs. Then, he guides his cock to penetrate you. You help him eagerly, lifting above him only to lower yourself down his entire juicy length.

"Fuck-- holy fuck, Jungkook--" you moan.

Jungkook hides his smile within a kiss and completes a shallow thrust inside you.

"This is my favorite thing, you know. Pussy. Your pussy, in particular," he runs his hands down the curve of your back. "Sexy motherfucker."

He snaps his hips up into you, his hands comfortably resting above your ass.

Above him, your hands hold his jaw. You rest against him, infatuated with his delicate features. His cock rests above your cervix now, pushing your bladder just slightly.

You watch his Adam's apple bob, his heartrate climb as he tightens his grip on you. There's nothing more beautiful.

Your hands are on his chest now, and he's pulling you deeper as your hips roll into his cock. He pumps upwards, his lips collapsing into yours as your bodies collide.

In a daze, a wave of tension overcomes your body. He chases it, his big hands pressing into your skin with each powerful thrust. Your scent swallows him.

His thoughts flood as his thrusts slow, pushing further, accompanying a broken groan. He cums hard, and you cream around him.

-

permatag gang gang: @silversparkles11 , @lvoekook @sammy-steve-btsarmyakasammy , @kooliv , @koobsessed , @angelwonie , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz , @swyseren, @sxtaep , @koostarcandy , @hgema , @jjkeverlast , @nglmrk , @devilsbooksworld , @saweetspoiled , @exactlyfuriouscoffee and @unicornbabylover

:) I'll be back guys.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

The Darkroom - Peter Parker x Reader

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! Super fluffy <3

Word Count: 911

A/N: This is something I wrote a while ago but thought I'd bring it back out and post it. Can't believe what they announced at Comic Con today!! I imagined this as either Tom's Peter or Andrew's Peter when writing this but it doesn't matter when reading.

Peter had been my best friend since we were five. We grew up together, laughed together, cried together and worked together. Every year since middle school, we’d been biology partners, chemistry partners and PE buddies. We knew everything about each other, like how Peter was infamously bad at keeping secrets. Over the years, Peter had developed an interest in photography, and he would carry his film camera everywhere he went, taking photos of just about everything. We were in the darkroom when it happened; I remember it as if it were yesterday. Scarlet red LEDs lined the walls, the air conditioner buzzing filled the room, and we were busy hanging up each of Peter’s photos to develop.

“How can you tell which ones come out right?” I asked him, careful not to touch the front of the photos. 

“You don’t; that’s the whole point” he smiled at me, but not just a regular smile, a Peter smile. His Peter smile was enough to make butterflies appear in my stomach; it was a loving and confident smile.

“Besides, most of these photos are of you, and I’ve yet to see a bad photo of you” there was that smile again, or maybe it was a smirk; I never really could tell. I literally had to bite my tongue not to smile back, for, you see, I had developed a little, teensy, almost non-existent crush on Peter when we were thirteen.

“Haha, very funny.” I sat down on the floor, and he quickly followed suit.

“No, I’m serious.”

“How serious?” I smirked. We both knew what we were doing. 

“Dead.” After that, it went quiet; this never happened between us. He took hold of my hand and traced my palm lines, something he did when he was apprehensive but also bored.

I looked up at him suspiciously, “what?” he asked.

“You’re nervous… or worried, or something,” I dragged it out, trying to get him to tell me what was up with him.

Peter chokes on air.

“Huh? Me? Nooo,” he chuckled, incredulous.

“Peter, if you’re keeping secrets from me again, don’t. I think we both know-” I was cut off by Peter’s lips on mine. At first, I couldn’t stop smiling into the kiss. I mean, I did have a massive crush on the guy, but I quickly settled. It felt like a movie, one of our favorite movies. When we were fourteen, he told me that my first kiss should be memorable, one that is so special that you don’t know how long it lasts. This was that kiss. I pulled away after what seemed like an eternity. Covering my face with my hand not only in embarrassment but also to hide the ear-to-ear grin I had.

“Are you ok?” he chuckled, slowly reaching up to peel my hand away and reveal my blushed smile. My cheeks were red like a tomato, and my grin was from ear to ear. It was the type of smile only Peter could bring out in me. Once my parents split, Peter was the only one who could cheer me up enough to properly smile and feel something again: pure joy. 

“I thought you were going to tell me some terrible secret like you were a murderer, do not do that!” I hit his chest and stood up. The second my hands left his chest, my mind started to race. What did this mean? Was this going to ruin our friendship? Was it a mistake? My mind used to race a mile a minute back then, thinking of all the bad and none of the good.

He laughed. “I mean… I know you love me.” There he went again, making cheeky remarks deliberately made to make me blush and beam.

“What?” I question, trying to laugh it off. I totally didn’t have a crush on him. 

“You’ve had a crush on me since we were thirteen. Like it or not, you’re no better than I am at keeping secrets. I’ve been trying to hint that I like you too all year!” You had got to be kidding me. Peter, my Peter, liked me back. And not just as a joke, either. He really, really, liked me, for me. 

“I think we could hang out at the skate park later this week. Talk a bit more about this. Us?” his face softened, clearly trying to keep calm.

“Is that your way of saying, ‘same time tomorrow? Because if so, then yes, I’d love to hang out with you more.” I said quickly. I tended to talk so fast that no one could understand me when I was excited. No one but Peter. 

“Fantastic. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen.”

I looked down at my watch only to realize it was half past seven and well past my curfew. “I better head off. My mom is going to kill me. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” I grabbed my backpack and tousled his caramel locks.

“As always”, he blushed. The next day I went to the skate park and every other day after that. Peter taught me how to use his skateboard, which took me weeks to master; we have the photos to prove it. The photos from the darkroom are now hanging on our wall; no surprise, they were all of him and me. Who would’ve thought that the two outcasts would end up together? I know I never did.

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

[luvxxriki]

BACK HUGS . Enhypen

pairing - ot7 x fem!reader (different scenarios)

genre - fluff, established relationship(s)

warnings (but not really) - pet names (for the reader and the members), i used js and bc instead of just and because (i didnt think i'd be posting this) sugar daddy jay but in a joking way

wc - 1.3k

notes - i didnt have anything to post today so heres a little scenario thing i wrote a few months ago🫶

Lee Heeseung

Okok so I think he would prefer front hugs

He would just love having the front of your body pressed against his for whatever reason…

But when he does go for back hugs, it would probably be js 1 arm 

He would kinda pull you closer to himself and he would tilt his head so he could see your face

Or he would make you tilt your head to look at him

That devious lil smile ofc

But when YOU back hug HIM?

He's a giggly mess

He would try to play it off and act cool

But you can literally FEEL his smile☠️

"Whatcha doin?" 

"Nothin" 

He would finish doing whatever he's doing as fast as he can so he can turn around and give you a real hug

Jay Park 

He makes me giggle omg

Anyways (I have bias problems)

He would be so romantic abt it like nose buried in your neck js so he can smell you

He would definitely have his hands on your hips I js know it

Like holding your hips tightly but not too tight

Pulling you against his chest oml

He would do it when you're in front of the mirror so you guys can see yourselves omg

YOUR WAIST IS HIS

anyways (not this again)

You would go up behind him while he's cooking or something

Like you're js bored while he's busy and you feel a bit devious sooo

He would let out a lil chuckle and js let you hug him for however long

He would turn around ready with a bite of wtv he's cooking js so you can try it

Then if you did it while he's washing dishes he would offer for you to help😍🙏🔥 (he's so generous right?!)

But he would obvi still do most of it

His princess shouldn't have to lift a finger (SUGAR DADDY JAY???🛐🙏)

Jake Sim

He would love back hugs idk

His arms would be wrapped all the way around your waist and his head would be on your shoulder

He would hold you as tight as possible

He would kiss your neck once or twice (or a bunch, depending on his mood)

He would probably do it while your doing your make up idk why tho

And when you guys are in public his arm would NEVER leave your waist

He would also do it when he's bored or tired or wants attention 

Even when you guys are laying down if your back is facing him he would obvi hold your waist from the back (ik thats just him being a big spoon but wtv)

Did I mention his hands are ALWAYS around your waist?!

And when it's the other way around?! Bros so in love

I feel like it wouldn't happen often but when it does omg

You would probs do it when you're bored or want attention and he would think it's js so cute

If he's busy he would stop whatever he's doing just to give you a hug and pull you to his side just so he can have at least one arm around your waist 

Park Sunghoon 

He would start off chill abt it

Maybe js come up behind you and rest his hands on your waist

But when he gets more comfortable I can see him being a bit more clingy with it

He would nuzzle his face into your neck and probably smile abt it quietly

He'd kiss your cheek or neck and js hold onto you

If you guys are in public the most he usually does is hold your hand, but if you guys are somewhere and get separated he'll sneak up behind you and hold your waist

That was kinda specific but wtv (if I have to type the word waist 1 more time istg)

I feel like he would be a bit like Heeseung tho and prefer front hugs

If you back hug him..? 

YOU CAN FEEL HOW HOT HIS FACE GETS WITHOUT EVEN SEEING HIM OMG (shy hoonie😖🙏)

He'd be caught off guard but he'd also LOVE IT

Probably say something like "angel..?" Js bc he doesn't actually believe it

But he'd feel your little giggle and not be able to contain his cute ass smile

Fangs and all🤞❤️

He would turn around and kiss the top of your head and pat your lower back

Kim Sunoo

I feel like he wouldn't do it often just because it's not his thing

But he would def do it when he's feeling a lil extra clingy

He would come up behind you with the biggest smile on his face and give you the comfiest back hug ever

You guys would both be giggling I feel

He would do it quickly then come in front of you and give you a quick peck

He would LOVE if you back hugged him tho

He would start giggling (I need to stop)

He would probably mess with you a bit and stick his booty out

But as soon as you let go he'd stop you

He'd grab your wrist and pull you back into his back (help?) 

"Nooo I like it"

You would start blushing but would js stay there while he does wtv

You would start doing it when you're bored or want attention oml

Or if you guys are somewhere and his extroverted ass won't shut up but you wanna leave

"Sunie, come on"

 Would automatically get his attention and not even 5 minutes later you guys are GONE🥰

Yang Jungwon 

Idk I feel like he would be a sucker for back hugs 

Giving and receiving🤭🤞

He's stressed? He doesn't care what you're doing, back hug.

You're bored? He doesn't care what he's doing, back hug him.

Moral of the story : Yang jungwon is a back hug FIEND 

If he sees you just standing there he will NOT hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist from the back

You've gotten so used to it by now that you hate when he's not back hugging you

If you're washing dishes or something (idk) he'll come up behind you and back hug you

He wouldn't say anything but he would js stand there hugging you

"Hi wonie"

He would smile and kiss your neck or cheek and js hum as a response 

And it's obvi normal for you to do the same

Like if you back hug him while he's doing the dishes he would have the same exact reaction

"Hi baby"

And you would just hum and kiss his neck or shoulder or cheek (ig it kinda depends on your height…)

Nishimura Riki 

Idk bc bros kinda tall sooo…

He would probably be kinda like sunghoon but not as shy

Like one day he would do it js to see your reaction and when he realized you like it

He does it whenever he can

Let's say your in front of the mirror and he comes up behind you and hugs you

He would smile for a second then say some stupid shit like

"Look how tiny you look right now"

You would obvi turn around and hit him (softly ofc, we don't inflict damage on hot ppl)

And as soon as you go back to look at the mirror he would be behind you again

But this time he learned to keep his mouth shut🥰😘

He doesn't do it too often, but sometimes he just really likes it for wtv reason

Like anytime you're in front of a mirror (bc he gets to see his hot self and his pretty ass gf WHILE they're hugging? Hell yea)

I feel like he would be surprised if you do it to him tho 

Like as soon as he feels your arms he would flinch a little and turn around js to see you all surprised at his reaction

"Sorry, I just wanted a hug"

He would feel so bad and give you a hugeee hug to make up for it

So after that you only do it when you're bored and wanna tease him🤠❤️

[the-kr8tor]

I'm sorry about the last one I just got way too excited to express my admiration for your works, I forgot to check!! But I've checked now and I saw The "Imagine if Hobie was prowler" that actually sounds really cool!! I was thinking if you could write something about that, maybe Reader is someone who he cares a lot for but it turns out they're also fighting against each other, (I haven't actually tackled the whole Universe of spiderman so I was genuinely just thinking of Reader as someone with powers TvT) but yeah I got a bit curious about that, I'm not sure if you wrote about that yet since I haven't went in all the master list and hopefully I don't finish it yet cause I'd be left with the deep emptiness (I love all the series so finishing it while it's ongoing would devastate medhdhx) but if you did you can discard my message or if this is too much, that's alright!!

Oh and I'm really happy I didn't make you Uncomfortable it's my first time writing something to a writer and I got anxious TvT I hope you have a great day!!

No worries! You're good! I put my own spin on it, I hope you like it! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Prowler! Hobie Brown x gn! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw violence, cw injury, tw death, Prowler! Hobie, Venom! Reader, ANGST.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The air runs cold, and your breath staggers in your throat. The fighting around you hasn't stopped, nor all the screaming, and bleeding flesh. But everything seems to cease when you see him. The noises deafen, debris and blood stilling in the air— Hobie in all his glory, covered in metal and crimson iron. Hobie, whose face is obscured by steel plates over his familiar face, purple smoke ebbing out of his suit. And yet, despite his rough and intimidating exterior, despite his sharp claws and sharper gaze, your heart still longs for him. He still feels like home.

Home, you haven't thought of it in years, the trees that dance in the wind, soft lavender wandering through the air. And your little house in the middle of the fields you once shared with him. A house that now ceased to exist, burned to ashes, nothing left but dark soot and blackened smoke that seemed endless. Ever burning, flames still snaking along the lavender fields, forever burying your memories with him under the red hungry flames. Those memories still live with you, deep down. You hope it still lives with him. If not, you'd rip it from your heart and hand it to him in your waiting ruby drenched palms.

“H-Hobie?” You ask in a broken tone, even though your soul knows him from where you stand. In between gore soaked bodies, bodies you've ripped and chewed yourself— he stands there motionless. You wonder if he still bears the warmth you used to hold in your arms.

The metal bridge creaks and squeaks, hinges about to give up from the stress of the fighting in its steel embrace. Tethering close to devouring every soul standing on its last life. You've felt the earth collapse years ago. If the ground fell from under you, would you notice?

Hobie doesn't answer, you see his chest rise and fall, gauntlets leaking blood. You don't know if it's his or someone else's, you just know it's not yours. Not yet. Would he hurt you?

You stand there, all worn out, arms bleeding and throbbing, legs trembling from the sheer pain. And yet, your eyes never leave his own mechanical mask, as if you can see the worry behind the steel curtains.

He stands there, heart ripped out, still beating atop the bodies laid out in front of him. He stands there, but he should walk towards you, run towards you and hold you. Hold you like he once had in that lavender field he once called home, hold you as if he didn't lose you all those years ago.

To live in his delusion, to never leave from the haze of the past. He longs for it, to stay where he once held you.

But the blackened tendrils coming out of your wounds is the one that he's fighting against. It curls around you, wrapping you in its mass. White eyes in place of your own that he sees in his dreams, sharp claws and lolling tongue— he doesn't see you anymore. Can't see you underneath the obsidian flesh of his enemy. He wonders if it's still you under it.

With a gutteral screech from the large mouth of the alien mass inhabiting your body, he takes his guitar from his back to pluck its strings. The noise could kill you, or it could liberate you. So he decides, and he plays.

The sound reverberates around the bridge, the creaking pauses for a moment, replaced by the ear piercing shrieks from the venoms. Hobie sees you crumble to your knees, tentacles of black slime ripped apart at the seams.

Your face is revealed under the mass, contorted into pain, the light in your eyes slowly fading as the creature feeds on your very being. Your nails dig into the slimy flesh, desperately trying to rip it out from your body. Eyes meeting with Hobie's, you nod for him to continue despite the blood spilling from your ears.

With bated breath, he strums again. More shrieking, more screaming, flesh torn apart, teeth chattering above the sound. His eyes never leave from your suffering as tears prick from his eyes. Grief snakes along his stomach up to his chest, pressing hard on his heart.

“Again!” You yell, ripping and gnawing at the agony filled venom. He follows, another strum, and another, one by one, venoms leave their hosts, and one by one, the bridge's wires collapse. But your own demon doesn't yield, it clings to you like a babe, holding onto you like a lifeline.

“C’mon!” Hobie stalks closer, plucking his strings over and over again despite your screams that would haunt his dreams. The venom wraps around you in its cold embrace, your own screams stifled with its arm over your mouth, choking you. “No!”

The bridge crumbles, someone tries to yank him away and take him to safety. But he shrugs them off, even if it means his own death.

“Hobie!” You manage to yell, “run!” It has you in a chokehold, dark veins ebbing from its touch towards your skin. It's killing you with it. Swallowing you in darkness, drowning you.

He abandons his guitar to dig you out of the mass. He rips out a chunk but it's immediately replaced and healed. Your muffled breaths can still be heard from under, he doesn't leave you. He won't leave you to die in the arms of the thing that took you from him.

Claws cutting and tearing, he heaves, breath stuck in his lungs. Yanking his helmet off, you see his face from the last pinprick of light. You wish there was a smile on his face instead of the desperation and fear. Still, you wished for home and you got it.

He pleads, and he calls for you, and his face is the last thing you saw before you fell into the suffocating depths.

The bridge collapses from under his feet, and he falls with you, holding onto you, plunging into the icy tides below. In the water, venom dissolves into nothingness, and he could finally hold you again as he joins you on the other side.