#if i had the time i would have written it longer and with slower pacing

[bisexualvampires]

i know i said this endverse fic would be 3 chapters but oh mannn playing around with all these timeskips is giving me so many more ideas

[longlivedelusion]

Bit O' Swing

Bucky x Reader / No use of Y/N / Drabble

Summary: You've been begging Bucky to teach you some 40s dances for a while now, and he finally gave in. Little hint of Sam and Steve commentary too 😏

Warnings: Fluffy, no warnings. Some insecurity but that's it.

A/N: had a dream last night that Bucky literally taught me how to 40s dance so this is how this came to life. Woke up and was like "write that down, write that down!!!" And so I did. Enjoy this little drabble that's definitely just been written at like 7am.

Masterlist

Bucky's hand slipped around your waist, slightly hesitant at first. His other hand moved to yours and he pulled you in.

"Uh- yeah- so you just follow my lead and uh- feel the music. We'll take it slow." Bucky said, the sound of 40s music blaring around the room.

~

"You think he's gonna trip before even getting a step out?" Sam said low to Steve, a small smirk on his face as he leaned back against the couch watching the whole thing play out.

Steve's eyes stayed on his best friend and his dance partner, "Bucky was always a hell of a dancer. He got a lot of girls that way, so I think he'll be fine."

Sam snorted, "Yeah, but you see who he's dancing with?" Sam vaguely gesturing in your direction.

Steve smiled. "You may have a point there."

~

Bucky started off slow, despite the fast music. He lightly pulled on my body to show where he was going, matching the beat but slower. "See, you gotta swing your hips a bit this way, and your feet will uh-" He tripped, quickly collecting himself. "Shit, sorry, they'll kind of move this way but faster."

I smiled, easily mirroring Bucky's movements, "Like this?"

He nodded, "Yeah, yeah that's perfect." He then slipped his hand from my waist but kept one hand on mine. "Then you, we, usually dance like this where I'll kind of swing you around and pull you in, and kinda repeat that. Any of this makin' any sense?"

I followed his movements, watching the pattern and beat he was talking about. "Yeah, it's all makes sense. Keep going."

"Great, okay, yeah so you move your feet like this when we're out-" he started to show the movements before losing his grip a bit on me. "Shit, sorry, maybe I'm not actually the best to show you this." He stopped his movements.

"You're doing great James." I slow down with him, eyes trying to meet his. I gently squeezing his hand. "I think I'm getting it down, keep going."

He nodded, quickly glancing at me. "I swear I'm a good dancer. Just been'a while."

"I know you are. I can tell. Just relax, ok? This is just some fun." I nudge him encouragingly.

He let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, right. Okay." He pulled me back in and swung me out, his feet moving still slower than the beat to show me the movements.

I noticed the pattern and looked back up. "Can we try it a bit faster?"

He nodded before taking me through the motions, now on time. I could really tell good a dancer he was despite his earlier little hiccups, his body matching pace of the song easily. He was a bit tense, like he always was, but had this definite groove to him. Like it was built into his body.

And despite his nerves, he was a damn good lead.

He pulled me forward, eyes never leaving mine as he twisted back and forth, my movements following his. It was like a wave, pushing and pulling before eventually his hand would find my waist again. Just for a second, two, moving me across the floor before leaving again.

Slowly the nerves seemed to fade.

I started to add my own groove to it too, swinging my hips back and forth, feeling him spin me around as I came back. I could see his body started to relax and the way his lips went from a thin line of concentration to eventually a small smile.

"You're pretty good at this." Bucky said, pulling me back in and keeping me there for longer than usual.

"I had a good teacher." I smiled back.

"Yeah, well looks like the student definitely passed the master." He spinned me out.

I laughed as I swung out and then felt him tug me back in. I moved in closer at the swing in, not pulling away as I held on a big smile. "Maybe I could show you a few tricks then."

Who knew the ex-assassin could blush.

[sanctuary1988]

~ The Heart Of The Poet |10| Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: strangers to lovers?, angst, feelings of [loss, grief, mourning], mentions of character dead, attending a funeral, TENSION, subtle signs of depression, the Chief Counselor is an ass (we all hate him tbh), melancholy, crying, more angst, sad poetry, feelings of yearning and hidden compassion, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: Happy Birthday to our dear Soo Hyuk! ❤️ I wanted to post this right on his birthday and it's finished! Darlings, we are already at an important point of the story and we'll start seeing some more development on Gwi and Flower's relationship! 🙈

Tagging @my-day6 and @yumisventingmachine who likes my poems for this story. Thank you darlings for your lovely comments that have made me write like a freak, lmao. And to everyone who's silently reading, I hope you will enjoy this chapter as well.

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

*A/N: There's a poem I wrote for this story that you'll find in this chapter, I do not allow for it to be used in any other media or to be reposted/translated.

Rain was falling from the skies, as if they were grieving alongside you. You could hear the soft patter of rain against the ground above as you sat in your room, your eyes that had once been filled with warmth and love were now empty, void of any emotions whatsoever. Not even sadness lingered in your (e/c) gaze. 

You stared at the letter Gwi had given you. He said your mother had written it yet you couldn't bring yourself to open it. Reading it would mean closure to her death. That you accepted the fact that she was gone from this world. But you couldn’t wrap your head around that idea. It made your heart clench and tears to sting your eyes with the pearls of sadness that rolled down your cheeks in silent mourning. 

A sudden presence made you blink as you looked up only to find Gwi walking towards you with slow steps that matched your heartbeat. Your eyes locked with his and he missed the warmth that once lived in those eyes he loved to look at. He now saw a shell of the woman that had lived with him in his palace for the last months. He could no longer see you as the light in his dark life for you were now drowning in the shadows of grief as well. 

“It’s time, petal.”

He said. His voice sounded deeper than usual, or maybe you had been in silence for too long. Without a word, you stood up. Your black hanbok trailed behind you as you walked with monotonous steps towards him. But you didn’t stop by his side, you walked past him and down the hallway that led to your bedroom. 

Gwi closed his eyes as he got a taste of your scent that lingered in the air for a second too long before he walked behind you. Slowing down his own pace so as to not rush you. To not disturb the little peace you were having in that moment. 

It had been three days since the news of your mother’s death reached you. Three days since the vampire lord has seen you in mourning. Three days that felt so empty to your once rich soul. 

He had not seen you cry after that fateful day. You withdrew yourself, living in the confinements of your room, drowning in your own sadness. He followed you in silence, his own robes trailing behind him as he walked slower than his usual pace. Your hair cascaded down your back, not even a hairpin decorated your beautiful locks. You walked in silence, like a ghost of dried tears. 

You stepped out of the underground palace and walked up the stairs that led to such sanctuary. He walked next to you, holding an umbrella over your figure. The rain mirrored your sadness as it patterned over the stone floors of the royal palace. You were going to your mother’s funeral. The last farewell to a noble lady that was married to a powerful court member. Your father was going to be there but you didn’t seem to grasp that thought as tightly as Gwi thought you would. 

He guided you through your darkness. A lighthouse in the thunderstorm. The moon in a dense night. A flame in the sea of tears you were drowning in. He walked with you, by you and told you where to go. He held you, protected you and cared for your safety. Yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak of your gratitude towards him. Not now, at least. For your soul was lost in a myriad of memories long lost, stolen by fate and crumbled by death. 

The room was filled with people you didn’t know. The rain could still be heard outside. You walked, the court members and their wives parted as you walked with your head held high and your spirit shattered. Your eyes held no emotion but your hands shook with the depths of your grief. At the very end of the room, your mother’s casket rested while flowers surrounded her final resting place. 

You came face to face with your father, your eyes met his but despite the inner turmoil in your heart, you couldn’t bear to see him with his nearly bored expression. 

“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n).”

He spoke, words being hissed out at you almost afraid of others hearing him. Gwi’s grip tightened around the umbrella, the tension in the air palpable. His words lingered in the air like a toxic fog, poisonous to your wounded heart. Your father’s indifference was a stark contrast to the sorrow that enveloped you. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of your tears, he didn’t deserve them. 

So your eyes narrowed ever so subtly, straightening up your back as you looked at the imposing figure of your father while his own gaze despised your presence.

“I have every right to be here, just like you. She was my mother.”

Silence stretched between you both. A flicker of something- frustration, discomfort- crossed his features. But it was gone as fast as it came and he stepped aside, allowing you to pass wordlessly.

Gwi followed you, admiring your strength in this moment of vulnerability. He could feel your father’s gaze on him. Criticising his presence, judging his sudden compassion. But he didn’t care. He’d deal with him later. But now, all that matters is you. All that he cared about was for you to find some sort of closure. Even when he was to blame for your immense heartache

As you approached the casket and the ceremonial table, you knelt down. The scent of the flower was almost overwhelming. Your fingers brushed one of the white lilies as tears clouded your vision but you fought to keep them at bay. You paid your mother the respect she deserved, bowing down at her time and time again. 

The vampire lord stood at a respectful distance away, his eyes never leaving you. His hands itched to reach out, to hold you, to tell you it was okay to grieve and cry. But there were so many people in the room, there were so many things that were crossing your mind in that moment and he knew this was a journey you had to take on your own terms. So he simply watched over you, like a silent guardian. Ready to catch you if you were to fall. 

The ceremony continued but your mind was elsewhere. He allowed you to visit your mother for the last time, as if that would repent him for keeping you away from her. He accompanied you, knowing that in your silence you craved for someone to rely on. You knelt next to the casket, feeling a lump grow in your throat with every passing second. Your hands fisted the fabric of your black dress as you did your best to contain your emotions that threatened to spill over without mercy. 

Gwi stood by your side, his eyes void of any emotion as he looked around the room filled with hypocrites that wished to get into the Chief Counselor’s good side. He watched over you like a feral wolf protecting his one and only rose. You suddenly stood up and the movement made him look down at you. 

“Take me away from here. I can’t bear it any longer.”

Your eyes were filled with tears, pleading up to him to take you out of this sea of sadness you were drowning in. If only he could take your pain away, he would. Gwi didn’t say anything, he simply grabbed your hand before he was taking you out of the room. Completely ignoring the whispers and gossip from the people, he didn’t even bother in telling them to shut up. His mind was clouded with the sole need to take you away from such a place of pain and heartbreak. 

The rain hadn’t stopped, the journey back to the underground palace was shrouded in silence, the only sound being the soft patter of rain against the paper umbrella Gwi held above your head, keeping you both dry from the harsh drops that fell from the sky yet you barely noticed the path beneath your feet, your mind was consumed by a thick fog of grief. 

You were in your room staring at the magnificent cherry tree. The letter your mother wrote to you rested on your desk as if it were mocking you. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, blink the tears back and bury your emotions just like Gwi did but your heart was softer and the pain was cruller. 

“You need to eat, flower.”

He spoke, his voice deep and reaching you in waves that only made you sigh to yourself. You didn’t answer him, you didn’t even move and an eerie silence filled the bedroom. That was until you spoke words laced with a poison you weren’t aware of. 

“Why did you keep me here?”

Whispers of your pain. That was what you spoke. Whispers of a broken heart. You looked up at Gwi with tears threatening to roll down your cheek and the sole sight of your pain, so raw and palpable, pulled at his heartstrings. 

“Do you blame me?”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at him. Waiting for an answer to the question he had voiced out. Feeling a tightness grip your heart with harsh claws that make you want to scream out your pain. Never had you experienced such an amount of pain in your life. And the worst part was that there was no cure for your suffering. You had lost someone you loved and there’s no medicine for a broken heart. 

“If you hadn’t stopped me from seeing her, I would have been able to spend some time with her.”

Gwi understood your words were said from the deep hollow of your wounded heart. Yet that didn’t mean your words did not hurt him as well. 

“You don’t know that, petal.”

You only closed your eyes, your hands balled the fabric of your dress as you fought with all your might the tears that wanted to spill. The pain that wanted to break you and the soul that wanted to escape this harsh reality. 

“My Lord… please. I-I need to be alone…. Please…”

His heart clenched at the sound of your broken plea. So vulnerable. So fragile. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. What was there to say anyway? Gwi left. Just like before he left you alone in your darkness but this time, it had been a product of your own desire. 

You sobbed the moment you were alone. Curling yourself in your bed as your bitter tears soaked the soft fabric beneath you. You bit your lip, trying to contain your wails and sobs but even as Gwi paced in the throne room he was able to hear your heart-wrenching whimpers. 

After some time, your sounds of pain faded into the shadows of the underground palace and the vampire lord found himself walking back to your room. His steps filled with a desperate need to be with you, even when your desire was to be alone. Even when you closed in and on yourself, he had to see you. 

He knew he was going against your wishes but for a moment, a fleeting fragment of time, he could no longer ignore the screams of his frozen heart. Gwi entered your room and noticed you had fallen asleep. His steps were silent as he approached you. Your fresh tear-stained cheeks, a testament of the depth of your pain, made him want to take your sadness away.

He knelt by your side, watching over you in the quiet of the room while his thoughts were nothing but a tumult of regret and helplessness. The vampire lord had lived through centuries of human suffering yet it was your pain that cut him differently, like anything he had ever witnessed before. 

Gwi’s eyes softened with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel- vulnerability. For his hand extended as if to wipe your liquid grief only for it to retract at the last second. He fisted it by his side before leaving your room, his heart in turmoil at the sight of your pain. At the beauty of your heartbreak that tore at his very own soul, a soul that was clearly not dead as he once claimed it to be. 

Days passed in a blur of darkness and silence. You barely ate, barely slept as the hours blended between dreams and reality combined into an endless night. One afternoon, Gwi entered your room to get you to eat something. You were growing weaker with each day you spent drowning in your grief and he couldn’t bear to see you like this. You were his precious petal but his sweet flower was withering away. 

The vampire lord grew surprised when he did not see you laying on your bed, instead you were reading a book as you sat under the cherry blossom tree, your back resting on the tree trunk as you turned a page and your eyes danced over the written words that took you out of your cruel reality. 

“What are you reading, sweet flower?”

You looked up only to find him already walking towards you. Once he stood next to you, you answered with tired eyes and a voice slightly hoarse with disuse. 

“Just a book of poetry.”

Was your answer. You grew surprised when Gwi sat down next to you, the petals from the tree fell slowly around you and you got lost in him as he looked down at you until his gaze landed on the book on your lap. His eyes narrowed slightly as he recognised the worn leather cover and the handwriting on the pages was strangely familiar. He gently took the book from your hands, you didn’t protest and watched him as he examined the book. 

“I told you not to read sad stories.”

He spoke after a minute or two, his tone laced with gentleness yet there was a hint of reprimand in his voice. 

“They are oddly comforting.” 

Your words carried no other emotion other than a deep melancholy. Your eyes got lost in the distance as your murmured words left your lips. Gwi sighed, closing the book before he spoke once more. 

“These poems were written during a really difficult time for the author. They are sad, petal. I don’t want you to be sad because of this book.”

You sighed, looking up at Gwi as he gazed at the closed book in his hands with storms swirling in his dark eyes that from time to time, you could swear held a tint of crimson within them. 

“How do you know? Have you read it, My Lord?”

He looked at you now, his eyes fixing on your lips for a split second before they returned to gaze at your dulled-out (e/c) eyes. 

“I wrote it, flower of mine.”

You grew surprised at his sudden confession. You didn’t think he could be the author of such dark poems that held so much longing for something you couldn’t understand. 

“They are beautiful.”

You weren’t sure what you saw flashing in his eyes after you spoke your true heart to him. Those poems, that book had made you feel understood in your grief, the words described your sorrow and for once you felt seen while being in darkness. He could sense the genuineness in your words and his eyes softened as he glanced at you. 

“Not all of them were sad, though. The last one was my favourite.”

He tilted his head to the side, a soft gesture that made butterflies swarm in your stomach. With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair out of your face and you found yourself trapped in his gaze almost as if he had hypnotised you. Perhaps he had for you couldn’t look away from his mysterious eyes that held so many depths and secrets you were curious to find out. 

You wrapped your arms around your knees as they were pressed against your chest, you rested your cheek on top of them, never breaking eye contact with the vampire lord who sat next to you. 

“Can you read it for me, My Lord?”

How could he deny you? Your request was whispered to the air, only for him to hear. You didn’t know but his heart swelled with something he couldn’t name at the intensity of your eyes as you looked at him as if he held your whole world. His eyes held such tenderness you could have melted right then and there. There was an air of melancholy and silent understanding between you both. Gwi picked up the book once more, his large hand going through the pages of his own pain and sorrow that were written down from centuries ago. 

With a gentle breath, he began to read, his voice a low, soothing murmur that enveloped you like a warm embrace. 

The face of sorrow is mine to bear. 

A life I lost, a dead fate. 

But a gift fell from the heavens. 

A hope born from the embers. 

A life, like a flower. 

A tear, like rain. 

History of power, 

Mistress of pain. 

To cherish life is to welcome death. 

Sing the song of a thousand angels. 

Let my sins live with every breath. 

And let my darkness guide my trembling steps. 

For every tear a rose is born, 

With roots of blood I cannot control. 

A dance of love

and a story that was never told.

You smiled as he finished reading. He closed the book and set it aside as he looked at you with curious eyes. A moment of silence passed between you both that neither wished to break as the words hung in the air, a live testament of life’s old fate. 

“You have such a beautiful talent with words, My Lord.”

He let out a breath, almost scoffing at your words in a playful way as he leaned back on the trunk of the tree before his hand twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers. 

“You weren’t meant to read those poems, petal, but I’m glad you liked them.”

You hummed to yourself. Feeling a peace settle in your mind and body as you relaxed in his presence. Your eyes closed and you sighed to yourself as the soft aroma of the petals around you filled your senses and calmed your racing thoughts. 

“Maybe you should write more often. They are truly beautiful.”

“We’ll see, flower, we’ll see.”

Your mind began to get foggy as the exhaustion of your grief caught up to you as you began to slip into the land of dreams. Gwi adjusted you in his hold, making sure you were comfortable as he stared into the vastness of the bedroom. You leaned against his side, your head resting on his shoulder as you slept after days of constant mourning and tiredness of the mind. 

The vampire lord couldn’t help but look down at you. Taking in your beauty, your trust in him and the magnificent truth of your innocent soul when it came to the heart of the poet. His eyes were soft and tender as he looked at you, your expression serene in slumber compared to the turmoil you had been through in the last days. His fingers caressed your cheek ever so delicately, his touch like a whisper on a winter night as it ghosted your skin. 

The soft glow of the candlelight casted gentle shadows across the room, illuminating the fragile features of your face that held a beauty like no other. Gwi could feel the steady rhythm of your breath against his side, a soothing cadence that lulled his own restless mind. 

He knew your sorrow wouldn’t go away with a simple poem but his protectiveness over you grew with each passing second. You were more to him than a servant, than a lady that was willingly spending her life by his side. You were his flower. His precious petal. A beautiful flower in a garden of dead roses. 

You are my soul, in faith, my prayer,

You are my kingdom, and my world;

You are my peace, my bosom's love,

You are my spring, my joy, my song.

May/31/2024

A/N: Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

*The last four sentences are not mine, darlings. They are part of a poem from centuries old written during the Ottoman Dynasty from Sultan Suleyman to his wife, Hürrem Sultan. I do not own it, I simply loved it and wanted to include it here!

[zoomguanyu]

An Early Gift

Sergio has a birthday present for Max.

A/N: I wrote this at 1am because I woke up suddenly remembering it's Max's birthday.

This is my first attempt at RPF, and I don't really know how to write these two. So please don't eat me.

Words: ~700

Read on Ao3 instead

"Do you want your birthday present early?"

"What?"

"Do you want your birthday present early?"

A quizzical smile crosses Max's face as he contemplates the question. A question which took Sergio forever to gather the courage to ask despite the innocence that comes with the sentence. So much of the future lays upon whether Max answers yes or no—and even more if he doesn't like the present—all which still remains unbeknownst to the young driver.

"What is it?" Max asks, which is the wrong answer.

"No, no, you answered with a question. Say yes or no. Do you want your present early?"

Max hums, rocking back and forth and drumming his fingers on his thigh. He's sitting on the edge of his bed along with Sergio and sometimes the latter worries his teammate might fall off with the amount of rocking he does. But it helps Max decide, even if it's a moment far too long for such a seemingly mundane choice. "Yes," he finally says.

Sergio takes the present out of his pocket and presents it in his hand. It's wrapped neatly with a bow to tie it off, and its suspicious shape already provides clues for Max on what it is. Not that Max seems to put those clues together because he asks again "what is it?" as though Checo is dumb enough to tell him the answer.

Sergio only smiles as a response.

A little tearing at the paper finally reveals the leather box inside. Only then does Max’s curiosity disappear from his face as shock replaces it. “Checo...what did you do…?”

Checo finally speaks when Max opens the box to discover the little diamond ring inside. He slips off the edge of Max's bed and drops to one knee. "Max... we have known each other for many years, but only shared a few of those together as one. You have made me the happiest man upon this Earth. I would not be where I am without you. We may not always be teammates in the race, but I want us to be partners in life. So...¿quieres casarte conmigo?"

Max's jaw remains agape as he listens to each word, and even a few seconds after Checo finishes. Then he snaps the box shut and jumps to his feet, his free hand reaching to grip his hair. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

A weak gasp escapes him. His eyes dart around the room, searching for something that may tell him it’s all a prank. If he’s disappointed there’s no hidden camera nor secret paparazzi watching through the window blinds, he doesn’t show it and instead starts slowly pacing the room.

Sergio's never deemed himself a master of recognizing emotions, but he had believed he understood Max’s. Yet in this moment he can't tell if his lover is happy or not. He's never seen Max completely speechless. Not when the man usually loves talking to him. His knee is starting to hurt and he finally stands, expression stilled to hide his growing disappointment.

And then Max begins crying. In three strides he crosses all the ground he's put between them and throws himself against Checo, arms wrapping around his new fiancé. “Took you forever to ask!”

Sergio can’t help but laugh. He hugs Max tightly as he kisses him on the cheek, then the jaw, then kisses away the salty tears. “You had me worried. I thought you might say no.”

“Who could turn you down?” Max manages through his sobs.

“Not you.”

He waits until Max runs dry of tears and his breathing becomes less erratic before their lips meet for a much slower and more passionate kiss. Although Max no longer cries, he still becomes emotional when Sergio slips the ring on his finger. Securing what they've known for a long time. They were to be companions for the rest of their life.

And they couldn't be happier.

A/N: ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? — Will you marry me? (Please correct me if I’m wrong)

It should be noted this is also written by an aromantic person and I don’t know how to write proposals.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

[ploppythespaceship]

I said I was gonna write up a rant about how modern TV shows are so terrified of filler that it's hurting them, and here it is!

Nowadays the thing for most TV is heavily serialized, 15-episode-or-less seasons, which is inherently seen as the superior format. And that works very well for some stories. But the more traditional 20-25 episode season with more one-off episodes has a lot of advantages that would really benefit some stories! Even if an episode isn't moving the overall plot forward, it's often contributing to characters, relationships, worldbuilding, or just overall pacing -- a true "filler" episode is rare in a well-written show. On the flipside, shows that don't take full advantage of these types of episode can feel lacking.

Here are just some benefits of longer, more episodic seasons:

It's easier to explore a wider variety of stories and tones. When each episode is more separated from the rest, you have more space to try different things. You can have a very dark episode, followed by a lighthearted romp, followed by a simple character study, followed by a full-blown musical, and it can all still feel cohesive. Meanwhile, if you have continuous storyline following one massive epic plot, having a fun episode right in the middle feels jarring. If a show would benefit from having lots of variety available, locking it into a single storyline per season may not be the best move.

It's easier to focus on and properly develop a larger group of characters. When you have a short season that's laser focused on plot, making sure that each member of your ensemble cast gets enough focus can be tough. But if you have more episodes that each tell their own story, you can tailor certain ones to focus on particular characters. That way everyone gets plenty of opportunity to see some good development, as they've each had a handful of stories to spotlight them specifically. I firmly believe that if the goal is to develop an ensemble cast, episodic structures are almost always better suited.

It makes it feel like you've known the characters for longer. Episodic series often have a sense of joining your favorites on a new adventure week after week. You see them in a wider variety of stories and settings, and over a longer period of time, creating a greater sense of familiarity. It creates a particular tone, sort of cozy, that can be incredibly beneficial to some stories.

It helps overall pacing. If shows are very short and very serialized, it often means all the major developments are close together. This can feel exhausting as a viewer, like everything's happening too quickly and the big moments haven't been earned. Spacing these larger episodes out with smaller, slower episodes in between gives the audience and characters time to process and breathe. It also helps the huge moments stand out more, because they're truly events compared to the often smaller stakes of the rest of the show.

It protects the show from dumb episodes. If an episodic series has a truly awful episode, it's often easy to dismiss. It's fairly segregated from the rest of the series, so you can ignore it and carry on. Meanwhile, if an episode of a heavily serialized show has a truly awful episode, it probably has ripple effects to the rest of the storyline and is much harder to recover from.

[draconscious]

NAME : dan!!

PRONOUNS : he/him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : tumblr im. discord. passenger pigeon. I'm very slow sometimes but you should plot with me!!

NAME OF MUSE(s) : clair, cynthia, barry, jupiter/eris + so many mooore (how did it come to this? LMAO)

BEST EXPERIENCE(S) : dedicating this section to both ash (@analuein) and aya (@distortsverity)! ash and I have been writing together for infinity years right here on tumblr. no matter the muse, it's always a blast spinning up plots and watching the magic unfold from there with her. from thorton to violet, to noland and clair. from wildencounters to indie. it's been a fantastic ride. day one. 😎

I transitioned from group rp to indie a few years ago and--at the time--I was all alone. I had no connections, just a lonely barry blog to my name. I wrote drabbles by myself in the dark for two weeks until aya came across my blog with her hikari, and everything just clicked. aya made me feel included, reached out with ideas, plots and feedback, and showed love to barry and all of my muse(s)--and to this day, I still feel TREMENDOUSLY grateful for the helping hand when I felt so isolated. I definitely would not still be writing here without her.

since then, I've had an amazing time here. writing with so many different people, muses, and groups--it's all so good. my best experiences happen when I'm writing (or even plotting) with someone, and everything just works, flows, and fits together and I can just feel that shared excitement. that feeling that we're building a great story together. that's magical. that's why I'm still around, trying new muses, diving headlong into amazing plots/dynamics, letting my imagination run wild, and--as always--writing a lot. much love to EVERYONE who has helped keep that fire burning over the years, but especially ash and aya for giving that flame a chance in the first place. tysm. ❤️

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : it's been said, but--on a personal level--I wish private communication would happen more, specifically when it comes to interest levels. my time is becoming more and more limited here (sad as that is) and I have always written at a slower, longer pace. so, given how fast this place moves, I would appreciate knowing if a thread has grown stale, or if something's off.

I'm flexible. I'd like to think that I'm pretty laid-back. I want you to have fun, and you need to drop or backburner our thread because life, interest, etc. that's okay. I promise. I also don't mind reminders about cold threads or overdue replies on my end. if that's the case, please let me know right away, and I'll pick it back up or let you know my thoughts. we can try new things, or not. just let me know what you'd like to do, and we can adjust from there. that being said, lack of time or muse =/= lack of interest. I get that. you never need to rush a reply with me, and I will always (for better or worse) assume interest is still there unless told otherwise by you. I'm no herlock sholmes. (I wish I was...)

so, as a courtesy, I'd ask to please talk to me if something's wrong. if you feel the need to drop our thread or aren't interested in an interaction and/or want to start fresh. I won't be upset (quote me on that.) I just want to make sure that the writing vibes are still good, and I want to spend my time here writing things that you (and others) are still into. and in the end, it's not really a big deal--this place is great and I adore my past/present/future thread partners--but it's something that I would appreciate!

(also since I haven't made it clear before: no AI with me, please. let's meet at the same level.)

MUSE PREFERENCES: strong women and brash, sunshiney dudes. (I'll really try anyone, but I certainly have types 😊)

PLOTS OR MEMES : whatever's easier for you to get in the door with--c'mon in!! I don't find myself with the time to reblog many memes lately, but my inbox/IMs are always open for spot interactions, and I'll do a lil' starter call here and there!!

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : I don't mind receiving either, but I always tend to lose myself in the sauce and write a lot oops. you never have to match my length. as long as we're writing together, that's chill enough for me!

BEST TIME TO WRITE : my healthcare job is killing me. I'll try to sneak on for some stuff here and there, but I'm most active during evening/nighttime CST US. confirmed night time scrawler. 🦉

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : some common threads linking all of my muses to me is the fact that we always want to be active, we have (too) high expectations of ourselves, we grew up and are still growing up, and we spend too much time working (and loathe it LMAO)

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hi there, Laura! Hope you are doing well and enjoying the holiday season. You don't have answer this ask, but after reading your thoughts on the new chapter, I just wanted to share that you're not alone in feeling frustrated with the BC manga right now. I have certainly been feeling the same way myself. I actually took a break from it for a while earlier this year (still kept up with the spoilers & such but didn't read week to week) partially due to my poor health and mostly because I was feeling frustrated & hoping it would keep my attention better if/when the pacing evened out. Unfortunately, the pacing issues seem to be persisting. Being a bit of a hobbyist writer myself I recognize that it can be very difficult to keep a consistent pace throughout a story especially a very long one so I try to be forgiving of that in works, especially when they are ongoing & published serially (like a manga). I think in this particular case there is just a big contrast between the pacing of previous arcs (i.e. Elf Reincarnation) and this one, and the added pressure of it being the final arc which draws more attention to the pacing here.

I liked what you said in an answer to another ask about how not every series can have "ups" all the time. I absolutely agree and would even go so far as to say that one of the things that was so special about BC and what I loved about it so much was how Tabata filled those downtimes and slower paced moments with really compelling characters & their dynamics with one another. And that's really what I feel I have been missing from the series lately. It sometimes feels like it's moving so quickly that all of these wonderful characters and storylines I came to love as the story unfolded have had to be pushed aside in favor of these epic battle sequences. They're great, of course, but it's not really why I've connected with this story and stuck with it for so long. But I realize that the target audience (at least) is probably connecting with this series for the epic adventure story and battle sequences. My cousin (who recommended BC to me in the first place), for instance, is 100% there for the epic battle sequences and doesn't care all that much about the character development and the little side people (i.e. he's been into BC far longer than I have and I've had to remind him multiple times who Langris even is lol. Needless to say, he'd be shocked to know I've written thousands upon thousands of words just about him and very few words about any battles). I love my cousin & will forever be grateful that he introduced me to such an incredible story that we both adore, but there is no denying that we love it for completely different reasons. And after reading what you shared about your frustrations, I wondered if perhaps you are a little more like me and missing those smaller character interactions and worrying that all these wonderful characters (whether with big roles or small roles in the story) that made BC so special will get their arcs wrapped up in a satisfying way.

When a story starts to move this quickly from one fight sequence to the next in the final battle, it can start to feel like all the characters' intrapersonal conflicts are just getting swept up into the fray, and for a story like BC that always did such an incredible job of giving *every* character their own arc, motivations, and really their own "moment"--it can feel a bit worrying, disappointing, and, yes, frustrating to feel like they aren't getting their moments when they really matter and when it's their last chance to get them. Yes, this is the end of the story of Black Clover but what's so special about the story of Black Clover is that it's not only Asta's story or Yuno's story...it's *everyone's* story. There are B-plots, C-plots, D-plots, all the way to Z-plots. Each and every one of these subplots--these stories and the characters they affect--deserves an ending, and I think there is frustration that sets in in knowing that unless the pacing of the story as it is now drastically changes there will not be room for closure for all (and possibly even most) of these subplots and supporting characters that we've come to know, love, & appreciate.

All of that said, it's still a work in progress. I don't pretend to know what Tabata has planned & I'll reserve judgment until the end. Truthfully, no matter how it ends I will be forever grateful for a wonderful story & amazing characters that I really connected with. I personally don't feel that what has been written is bad, but I will admit constructively that I do feel a little disappointed and am finding it harder to keep my interest with it as time goes on. To me, with these rushed battle sequences, it's almost like it's losing some of that magic (no pun intended) that made it special and different from every other battle epic shounen. I believe that in what it set out to do as a battle epic, it has succeeded and continues to succeed even now as it nears its conclusion, but it went above & beyond that in what it did with its characters and that's where it feels to be falling a little short recently. But again, I'll admit, I think that has more to do with the fact I'm the oddball that was never really there for the battles in the first place, so I'm not sure I can really speak to the "good" or "bad" of the writing, since in a way I feel like it's not being written for *me* because I'm not the target audience, if that makes sense?

I was curious of your thoughts on this (and hope my ramblings weren't too incoherent) so I thought I'd send an ask in case you wanted to weigh in. But please don't feel obligated. Thank you & Cheers, dear!! 💖

Hiya Acacia! I hope that you're well too!!

Tbh, I hadn't thought about BC being a "battle anime" per se, because though there were a lot of battles in the beginning, it was well balanced with the prose, and the battles advanced the plot. (Granted that the battles do advance the plot as well, but they feel relatively meaningless if there's no connection from the reader to the story itself on an emotional level. In my opinion) But we have very similar thoughts about the issue with pacing indeed. To me, it almost feels like Tabs deemed all the necessary characterization to be done, and now he'll just cut to the chase and "hack & slash". Or then, like any writer, he has scenes where he just really wants to get to. And the pacing suffers because of it.

If it was just a few chapters of battles, like... let's say 5 in a row in between some proper character interactions and story arcs where we can learn about the world and the lore, then I wouldn't mind. But because it feels like we've gotten a year of nothing but battle battle battle, it got to me. Luckily there's fanfic and other lil' projects in the meantime to keep one entertained.

I also didn't think about what exactly is the target audience here, because the story started as more character and story centric with some battle here and there, I probably thought the story to be targeted to people who enjoy action and adventure, which would include more than just fights.

But also, maybe this is like the Royal Knights arc (which I forget half the time). That was also very battle centric, but it was building up to something more.

Now, I was lucky enough to be able to fast forward the Royal Knights arc, by going as far as to skip some episodes because it didn't appeal to me and seemed to have minimal contribution to the plot as a whole in my opinion, but now I'm experiencing it in real time so to say.

This doesn't mean that I would dislike BC. I'm not going to say that "because of this BC is bad", because it's not. It's going through a slow season.

I certainly can't blame you for taking a break. I'm on a semi-break myself due to ... well, school. I might have a little more time next semester, but I can't say for sure, because the courses of next semester are supposed to be the toughest ones during the first 4 years. So, I'll be around, but probably not as vocal. And I suppose I'll feel less like I'd need to stay on top of the plot on a weekly basis, because Tabs has moved to the once every 6 months type of an arrangement.

And there has to be more than 2 chapters still to come

Source

These don't even include chapter 369's MagLuck VS. Lucius clone

This short text gives hope of at least 5 chapters still to come, all probably long ones. However, I want to believe that since they're "major fights" in which the MagLuck team up wasn't counted (meaning that chapter 369's battle isn't considered as "major"), these 4 battles will probably take more than 1 battle/chapter.

Also.... when you look at the colour page, you see at least five things:

Licita, William, Ichika, Nacht and Adrammelech

Nacht is probably going to tie in on the Yami VS. Morgen battle, and Ichika will meet up with her brother (dare I speculate a team up as well), with a high potential for some sibling reconciliation, because the ground work for it has been set.

Adra is the big question mark, because what exactly are they up to, is up for a debate. But because they are there, and Tabs hasn't placed people on coloured pages without a reason until now, there's potential for something more.

However, the thing that draws attention most, to me, as someone who wants more lore and plot, are Lichita and William.

The image of Lichita looks like it's from a memory, and considering how Asta's grimoire, with Liebe inside, somehow wound up to the grimoire tower, behind a brick on the outer wall, after Lichita died, gives good reason to wish for a flash back, maybe even a small story that takes place in the past. Not just in memories, because I doubt that Liebe can actually remember events of the grimoire in that manner.

And William's picture looks like it's a memory, to me, as well. For now, we're under the impression that William is... gathering himself after, maybe, losing a limb (we've been wrong about these before with Mereo, so I'm not saying that he actually has lost one), but he might feel like he needs to still atone himself somehow. Maybe he's reminiscing to something in his past, after meeting with Julius. That would be plot relevant in more ways than one, and could explain why Will is there, looking so solemn.

So, to me, after some contemplation, I think that we're going to mimic the elf arc, and the Final Arc is only now starting with chapter 370. Things up until now have just been the "Royal Knights Arc" of the Final Arc.

Idk, that's just what I think atm

[vaenevolence]

Reigniting a Spark

(Very long post ahead, skip to bottom if you're only interested in Hiatus explanation)

Note: This post is specifically for my long-time readers

----------

Hey there! This is Vaeryn, it's nice to see you here!

A Very Big Thank You

If you're here reading this, it's safe to assume that you've been following my BenneFischl fic as it is currently being written and updated on Ao3. Before I say anything else, I would like to say thank you in every possible way for supporting this project of mine. There truly are no words to describe how much all the love you give means to me.

I am making this post because there will be a lot of changes moving forward and I want to share them with you!!

The Origin Story™

I started writing Etched in Fire and Lightning about a year and a half ago for an awfully simple reason: I was starved for some BenneFischl content but there's not much abundance of it in the genshin fandom. And so I took matters into my own hands and cooked a massive 12-chapter longfic featuring one of my favorite ships in the game. Originally I was planning a one-shot fluff smut fic but my ego said: "really? your first venture into fanfiction and its a one-shot smut?"

So as you can see, there was also some level of spite involved in the writing of this fic. And yes, this is my first work as a fanfiction writer. I used to be more of a poetry guy so this project was a really big step for me as writer.

I will be taking a much need Hiatus

Yes, I know I know, I'm sorry. But as much as I love this fic, I am admittedly burnt out writing it.

Chapter 6 will for now serve as a mid-point finale of this fic. Admittedly ending on a painful cliffhanger but wrapping up most of the arcs I introduced in the earlier chapters while setting up the rest of the fic to really be about the relationship between Bennett and Fischl.

In the beginning I have promised myself to not work on any other writing project until I am done with EiFaL wanting to be some goody-two-shoes writer who didn't have a million WIPs rotting away in my google drive. But that mindset is currently doing more harm than help.

I want to make it absolutely clear that I not abandoning this fic, I am just taking a break from writing it. I have so many other things I want to write and work on, so many things that I want to share to the world that are being hindered by the toxic promise I made to myself to finish this before anything else.

I'm also taking a break to reevaluate myself as writer and the way I post my work. In case you didn't know Chapters 1 & 4 have received major rewrites and Chapter 2 received a minor rewrite and all other chapters have had minor clean-ups and polishing. This is because I constantly see improvements I can make to the language and storytelling I use in my work. While it is an overall good thing, it comes at the cost of asking my readers (you) to re-read earlier chapters just to make sense of the newer ones (yes the rewrites do affect the story in a noticeable way) and risks confusion if you are unable to read the rewritten chapters. ...so what are my plans?

Change of Pace

Moving forward, there will be an overall slower but more consistent pace with how I will release my works. Currently, I post chapters as soon as they are done, if there are errors or things that need to change, then I do so after a chapter has been posted which is why rewrites have been a big problem. In the future, I will no longer be releasing chapters as soon as they are done and instead wait until I have a few chapters completed and reviewed before I post them all in intervals. This way, you guys will get more consistent content without me being pressured into immediate begin work on a chapter I've just finished one.

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And that's about all I have to say to you all. Once again, thank you so much for all the love and support you have given Etched in Fire and Lightning. I truly never expected that I'd be writing something like this. It's been a long and inconsistent journey for both me and you but I hope you stick around while I write the ending this story deserves.

Until the next story,

Vaeryn

[lenteur]

random thoughts about tell me that you love me, episode ten

(the rest is under the cut because i'm worried about your eyes having to read ALL OF THAT and this post might contain spoilers)

Not even three minutes into the episode and I'm already crying hahaha Life's great!

The fact that ki hyun (jin woo's best friend) fought one of his classmates to defend jin woo is insane. It goes to show how kindness doesn't know any boundary. The classmate's mom forbid her son from hanging out with jin woo because of his disability and ki hyun found it unfair. He chose not the best option but he's a real friend for sticking up for jin woo when no one else does.

I am crying even more now. Jin woo being there for his ki hyun and reassuring him when he needs it the most is proof of how deep their friendship is. I don't think anything or anyone will be able to break it.

Why would you put mo eun's confession back when I still haven't recovered from it? Huh?

{ Seeing jin woo paint on walls is interesting because it seems he only paints in places he knows (?) / places where he felt something strongly. The last time we saw him paint was on the wall of the school where the little girl wanted to study. Now he's in the middle of an area where it seems like a lot of people were evicted from their home. By leaving a trail through his paintings, he wants to commemorate the place/the people he knew. It might be a form of therapy for him? What he can't express with words (even signed), he uses his art to do that.

He uses the nickname dino maybe because he wants to differentiate his "official art" from this very vulnerable and deep form of art. Even though he still puts his all into his art, the paintings on the walls seem even more personal. It's like he puts his all into the paintings.

Or maybe he just wants more people to have access to his art? At least that's what I get from him thinking back on mo eun's words.

Another thing I noticed about jin woo's art is he always draws people with their backs towards the spectator. This might be what he feels on the daily. From the back, he seems "normal" (sorry for using that word). However, if you face him, you'd understand he's deaf. For example, tae ho thought jin woo (who had his back facing tae ho) didn't help him when he was bullied on the bus because he didn't want to. But then, when tae ho actually knew the truth he came to the realization that jin woo is in fact deaf and there was no longer a misunderstanding. From the back, you can't see what people are going through (unless they have a physical wound/disease that changes the way they walk/stand).

He draws people's backs maybe because he wants as many people to identify with the person drawn? }

Seo kyung being curious about jin woo's childhood and how he grew up. She wants to know everything about him. Meanwhile, mo eun lets him confess at his own pace.

Jin woo knows how to cook. He's a keeper mo eun! Wink wink

The way seo kyung handled the rude man was so classy. She didn't raise her voice and calmly explained everything to him. Well done!

Wow, this episode sure gave us a lot to jin woo's backstory. So he went to uni with seo kyung, they fell in love, got into a relationship and then seo kyung broke up with him for an unknown reason. As a result, jin woo decided to disappear for seven years. He lived in the mountain (? not sure though) or was it a container? I should've written it when I watched. Anyway, his container was flooded and he lost all his paintings. Maybe that's why he came back? There's a lot to unpack here. I won't comment on it any further because I do not have the brain to do so.

What is that preview? I'm not sure I'll be ready for the next episode </3

Despite it being a slower episode (compared to the others imo), a lot has happened. I am giving it a 8.5/10

ps: what is in between these { } are just my theories and not facts. seeing jin woo paint once again on a wall made think of all the times he's done so in the past. i just wanted to share my thoughts is all.

[tranquilpetrichor]

stream of consciousness

synopsis: where daeyeol gathers himself and spends some time in your mind.

cast: golden child daeyeol x reader

genre: angst, magical realism

wc: 783

warnings: mentions of bad family circumstances, death, very philosophical, existential

a/n: oh god this is so rusty help but the idea for this sorta popped in my head one day? and i haven't written for golcha for a while but liked the idea of characterizing daeyeol as someone's who's learned a lot but is also tired so enjoy.

relax. you've done this a million times. nothing to worry about.

at the edge of the chaos, lee daeyeol plunged his hands into the rushing stream.

the sensation he felt was cold and unforgiving, but necessary for his next task, for the stream itself was really a stream of consciousness. here, he could sift through one's thoughts, desires and dreams that all coalesced.

all he had to do was touch the surface of the water, and just like that, it began to reveal more of its depth, ebbing and flowing up ahead.

he supposed one could refer to this river of yours as a soul, as that stream of consciousness was synonymous with your mind. humans were nothing more than a mind with a body, anyways.

daeyeol waded into the turbulent water, knowing that his purpose was to look into your memories, try and piece together the mystery of you, and help another lost soul along the journey of life.

you needed something, but he wouldn't know what it was until he could understand you.

that damned thing called empathy persuaded him to take the route of kindness. one might call him a guardian angel, but he'd laugh bitterly.

he was no angel.

but not a devil either, he thought with a shrug. simply, daeyeol.

usually people weren’t aware of his presence at their river. he was everywhere and yet nowhere to be found, and that’s how he preferred it anyways.

of course, it’s not as if he was trying to be invasive, but the nature of sifting through people’s souls obviously involved digging into their personal lives, so daeyeol had learned to take the quietest path into the depths of their mind.

and he really tried not get too attached to those he's helped. it didn't always work, but it's a good principle (if such a thing even existed) to go by when dead and watching others live out their lives.

he walked further along your river, viewing thoughts flowing beside him, now at a slower pace than before, but permeating nonetheless.

not good enough.

i must do better.

i'm falling asleep.

this is hell.

it’s all hell to me.

there were flashes of memories: loud alarms, grades that were perfect, grades that were almost-perfect, open tabs on the internet, early morning drives, your current gpa, and notes on sheet music that blurred and eventually faded into blackness.

dreams? well, let's just say yours were hidden, secondary to your endless supply of thoughts. there were people in this world that didn't have the luxury for dreams, and let themselves drift to follow whatever path would please those around them.

you've accepted your struggles, daeyeol can deduce that much. everything coming from you felt resigned, almost eerily calm—as if you were firmly in the eye of the storm that was life.

contemplating his next motion, he decided to dip his hand in the water. a longer memory played out for him on a shimmering surface.

quietly, he watched your mom (that’s what he’s been told, but maybe she really shouldn’t have been a parent), yell at you. two of your siblings ran past.

"y/n. you should know that slacking off is unacceptable! i didn't send you off to a private school just so you could fool around with your friends. you have to be responsible.”

(daeyeol was sure hanging out with people wasn't all you did, there were also the honors courses and band and your tutoring job on top of that. and you still managed to keep a good gpa.

there weren’t enough hours in the day to do all of this. slacking off, his ass.)

you closed your eyes and maintained an impassive look on your face. he could understand why.

now honestly, between romance, illness, and the mundane moments of everyday life, he’s seen it all and as a result, wasn’t surprised anymore by memories that would have shocked him years ago. one might call it desensitization but there was likely a better word for it.

still, he closed his eyes as well. despite his generally calm demeanor, it’s not as if he didn’t feel sorrow and empathy deeply. it was quite the opposite—but he had to absorb all that emotion and remain the peaceful mediator that he was.

(that, and everything he was seeing reminded him of his own mistakes, of which there were too many.)

oh well. for better or for worse, the past, like many things, was dead, so there was no use on dwelling on it.

he left the stream soaking wet, but calm as always. at least he knew what you needed, and someone else could escape a cycle of misery and sorrow.

taglist: @restlessmaknae

[aimmyarrowshigh]

2022 Fic Roundup Meme

Total Fics Posted: 975 so far (two are hidden right now because they're for anonymous exchanges!) but by the end of the year, it SHOULD be 1,108. I've got three more exchanges due by the 31st, plus 40 #hanukkahbingo drabbles, and then hopefully daily drabbles are back now that the Star-Spangled Big Bang is over and my brain is being a little less eaten. We'll see if Fandom Trumps Hate starts eating my brain, though, because that's the longest of my remaining 2022 stuff!

Total Words Posted: By the end of the year, it should be ~175,000. Currently it's 150,181.

Total Words (of Anything Excluding Blogs) Written: Somewhere between 200,000-250,000, I think, which is pretty usual for me. Most of what I write I just kind of immediately post, but I do have some WIPs kicking around the ol' WIP folder. I didn't start using a comprehensive wordcount tracker until mid-October, so I don't know exactly!

My favorite fic story this year: Either Not In The Answer But The Question or Five Times Captain America Fucked A USO Girl & One Time Steve Rogers Got Fucked -- I'm proud of both, but in different ways. I think both really challenged some of my writing hang-ups and turned out well. I'm happy with all of the longer-than-a-drabble stuff that I wrote this year, though! And I mean, most of the drabbles, too, but there aren't any that necessarily stick out in my head as far and away better than the others.

My best story this year: Not In The Answer But The Question, although I do feel like I rushed the pacing on the last quarter because I had to make the BB deadline (hah). People seem to think it still sticks the landing, though!

Story most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: I'm actually going to give a real answer for this one this year, which I usually don't, but I'm going to say that I thought both a smile on your immortal face and Gee, I Hope You're Ready for a Fic About Death would get a couple more hits than they have. I know neither is a massive fandom, but Beetlejuice The Musical DOES have over a thousand fics and there ARE a lot of WLW American Girl fans, so I thought both would get a little more traction than they have. But it's okay! I had a ton of fun writing them either way, and I'm really happy with how they turned out.

Sexiest Story: Five Times Captain America Fucked A USO Girl & One Time Steve Rogers Got Fucked is the smuttiest thing I've written in YEARS and I think the sex all turned out pretty well! I don't write many E-rated drabbles because it's difficult to create sexual tension within the word limit in a way that's ~satisfying, so there isn't a ton of competition haha. I am going to attempt the MCU Kink Bingo in 2023 though!

Most fun story: Ooh, good question. I'm gonna say Gee, I Hope You're Ready for a Fic About Death because it makes me laugh and because it was a really quick writing process because I was having fun. "Fun" isn't necessarily my brand when it comes to writing? For someone who only likes bubblegum pop and Disney Channel Original Movies, I pretty much only write super thoughtsy-feelsy quiet, meditative character studies, lol.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: To coopt myself from the 2012 meme, “if I write a fic and it doesn’t change my feelings on the characters or fandom in some way, then I don’t think I wrote it correctly.”

Hardest story to write: I'm going to answer this with one that isn't posted yet and say my massive shrinkyclinks longfic that I started in 2021 and had hoped to finish and post this year! It's been a much slower writing process than I wanted it to be, just because I want to get it Exactly Right and because longfic makes me super anxious about My Value And Worth In This World Hinge On This Story And Whether People Like It.

Biggest surprise: Reiterating from last year's meme -- "Actually sticking to the drabbling! In the past when I tried Three-Line Fic Thursday and Five-Sentence Friday, I failed miserably, and I’ve failed myself at drabble challenges, too. But for some reason this time it’s stuck and is genuinely working to remind me that I can get words out, I can have ideas, and I can get those ideas out in words. Yay!"

A story I want remembered: I mean, if I wrote anything this year that anyone remembers fondly, that makes me happy. But I do have a soft spot for Not In The Answer But The Question.

Resolutions for 2023: FINISH LENT FROM TOMORROW (TODAY WAS TOO SMALL FOR US). BE A FINISHER. FINISH THE THING. Also, do Femslash February and a drabble March Madness again because they were really fun this year!

[jdgo51]

August 5, 2024

Life Abundant

Carol Purves (England, United Kingdom)

"God saw all that he had made, and it was very good." - Genesis 1:31 (NIV)

"For nearly 30 years I have suffered from chronic fatigue syndrome. This illness takes various forms for different people, and in my case I experience extreme fatigue with very little pain. But it stops me from doing things I want to do and serving the Lord in the way I would like to.

At times I have resented my illness, wanting to lead a full and busy life only to be pulled up short by my limitations. But sometimes I am able to look upon my illness as a blessing. It has stopped me from being proud since I can no longer rely on my own skill. I now have sympathy for others who are ill, which has made me a kinder person.

And I can pray. There is no shortage of people who need my prayers. When I say to someone, “I’ll pray for you,” I can mean it and do it. There is now time for me to listen to other people, to hear their woes and confidences, and then encourage them through emails, texts, or letters. The pace of my life is slower. There is time to listen to the birds and revel in nature. Even in the frustration of chronic illness, God is with me, helping me to live life abundantly."' Slow down, have empathy and know you are not the only one who has difficulties. Being kind is easy, if we make an effort.

Today's Prayer

"Loving Father, help us to find your presence and blessing in our current circumstances. Give us strength and courage to trust you." Amen.

Psalm 139:13-24

"13 You are the one who created my innermost parts; you knit me together while I was still in my mother’s womb. 14 I give thanks to you that I was marvelously set apart. Your works are wonderful—I know that very well. 15 My bones weren’t hidden from you when I was being put together in a secret place, when I was being woven together in the deep parts of the earth. 16 Your eyes saw my embryo, and on your scroll every day was written that was being formed for me, before any one of them had yet happened. 17 God, your plans are incomprehensible to me! Their total number is countless! 18 If I tried to count them—they outnumber grains of sand! If I came to the very end—I’d still be with you. 19 If only, God, you would kill the wicked! If only murderers would get away from me 20 the people who talk about you, but only for wicked schemes; the people who are your enemies, who use your name as if it were of no significance. 21 Don’t I hate everyone who hates you? Don’t I despise those who attack you? 22 Yes, I hate them—through and through! They’ve become my enemies too. 23 Examine me, God! Look at my heart! Put me to the test! Know my anxious thoughts! 24 Look to see if there is any idolatrous way in me, then lead me on the eternal path!" God has know you from the beginning of your life and He is with you. Just know in your heart and mind that He is there. Has been all along your journey. Blessings! Joe

[kdramacrybaby]

The Mystic Nine (2016)

I just realized I never actually did my “end of season” review of The Mystic Nine after finishing it, so here we go.

(This ended up longer than I expected, so find the rest under the cut)

All in all, I did think it was better than The Lost Tomb (2015), although perhaps a bit slower - and it did have a lot more episodes to fill, so maybe that was why.

I have probably mentioned this before, but from what I’ve seen of Chinese dramas (not that many yet, so feel free to correct me), a huge part of the drama is a lot of talking and explaining what is happening. At least for me, I feel like they talked a lot more about something that had happened, instead of showing us how it happened - and as someone who struggles to keep focus on a thing I’m watching, this gets... sort of boring after a while. And with so many names and titles and faces to keep track of all the time, I do admit to not paying attention to the screen at least a couple of times every episode. So I probably missed a lot of important details to the story, but yeah... 

There were a couple of episodes every once in a while that I really really liked - everything about the Xinyue hotel episodes were amazing, and Xinyue herself was by far my absolute favorite character. What sets these episodes apart from the others, is that things actually happen here - there is action, drama and emotions all over the place. I didn’t find that even when they were in the tombs - they sit and talk so much. (The actors are amazing, by the way, I would never blame them for the writing and pacing).

It is based on a novel, and I do think I would like it a lot more in written form tbh.

I just want to stress that I don’t think it is a bad drama per se, it is just everything that I personally struggle to keep my attention on. Still, the highlights of this drama makes it, so I land on a ★★★☆☆ for this one too.

I’ll probably take a little break before I take on the next season of The Lost Tomb, but I am still determined to get through them all.

[five-rivers]

Detection (true version)

This is the second version of this prompt I've written. I decided I liked this take better. Like the other one, it is a loose continuation of Flight Simulation.

Prompt by @faedemon: Ghosts are naturally drawn to death. When people die in Amity Park, Danny keeps finding the bodies. (PR263)

.

"You know," said Detective Collins conversationally, "if most of these guys hadn't been dead longer than you've been alive, I'd be wondering if you were some kind of serial killer."

Danny hunched his shoulders.  As a… whatever he was, he had some powers.  Intangibility, invisibility, overshadowing, transformation, ghost sense, and now… this.  He guessed it might be an extension of his ghost sense.  After all, both had to do with finding dead people.  

"What is this one, the sixth?"

"Fifth," corrected Danny, although that didn't make him any less miserable.  He stared through the trees at the swarm of forensics people.  This was the fifth dead human body he'd been drawn to since the Accident, not counting the incidents at the cemetery and the hospital.

Collins scribbled something on his notepad then snapped it closed.  “Okay, off the record?”

“Huh?  Uh, sure?”

“Is this some new thing from your parents?  Did they make a dead body finder and scrap it because it didn’t find ghosts?  Because, if so, the department would definitely like to get our hands on one.”

“What?”

Collins sighed, slightly, and continued at a slightly slower pace.  “If the reason you’re finding all these bodies is that you’re using one of your parents’ inventions, the police department will buy it from you.  Heck, we’d commission a dozen from your parents.”

“It isn’t an invention,” said Danny.  “But, I mean, that sounds like a good idea.  I don’t know how it’d work, but if it did, I could see it.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he wanted to punch himself in his face.  A perfect excuse, and he just hammered it to pieces.

“Pity,” said Collins.  “But this,” –he pointed at where Danny had found the skeleton– “isn’t normal.  Finding five bodies like this by coincidence is unheard of.  Did you get cursed or something?”

Danny shrugged.  Honestly, he might as well be cursed.  “My ancestors on my Dad’s side were witch hunters way back when, so it wouldn’t really surprise me, but…  I haven’t heard of any curse?  That doesn’t mean that I would have heard of a curse, even if there was one…”

“Hm.  Think you’re haunted?”

“My parents are ghost hunters,” said Danny.  “They aren’t always the most observant, but–”

“Danny!”  There was a crash near the park entrance.  Danny winced and blushed.  Marley Park was one of the biggest and wildest still in Amity Park’s services district, but they weren’t actually that far from the entrance.  It was very easy to recognize the sounds of his father’s driving.  

“Did anyone tell them this was an active crime scene?” muttered Collins, flipping his pad back open.  

“Probably multiple times,” said Danny.  Collins flinched a little, having probably not intended for Danny to hear.  Oh, well.  

Danny’s parents thundered down the path, followed by a lot of shouting.  

“Danny, baby!” said Maddie, throwing her arms around him.  “What happened?  What are you even doing all the way out here?”

“He found a body,” said Collins.  “Specifically a skeleton.”

“What?” said Maddie.  “Again?”

“Ohhh,” said Jack, almost growling.  “I know what this is!  This is some blasted ghost trying to make our Danny look bad!”  He pulled out a bazooka.  “When I find it, I’m gonna–!”

“Mr. Fenton,” said Detective Collins, “please, there are no ghosts here.  We took ectoplasm readings when we got here, first thing.  This is a crime scene.  You need to put your weapon away.”

Jack grumbled, but did so.  The other policemen in the area, who had put their hands on their weapons, slowly relaxed.  

“Anyway,” said Collins, “this is an older body, so we…”  He trailed off and made a face.  “I think we all can agree this isn’t a coincidence anymore, but it’s safe to say that Danny wasn’t involved in the actual death of this person.”

“Of course,” said Maddie, who was still checking Danny over, as if the years-dead skeleton could have hurt him.  

“Anyway, if you, any of you, ever figure out what’s causing…”  He gestured at Danny.

“Right,” said Maddie.  “We’ll let you know.”

Danny shrugged, because he sure wouldn’t.  

“And our offer to refer you to a therapist still stands.”

“Thank you,” said Maddie.  “We’ll talk about it.”

Danny was bundled down the path and into the back seat of the GAV.  He slumped, feeling exhausted.  

“Danny,” said Maddie, after Jack had started the engine.  “Why were you out here?”

Jack backed up enthusiastically, and Danny used his need to adjust his position as an excuse not to answer right away.  “I was just walking,” said Danny.  

“Without your friends?” pressed Maddie.  “Or did they just leave before the police showed up this time?”

“They weren’t there,” said Danny.  

Of course, the reason they weren’t there was that they hadn’t been able to keep up with the ghost fight once it started to go through walls.  And then, of course, Skulker just had to pick Danny up and rub in the fact that Danny couldn’t fly.

Jerk.  

Danny much preferred Technus.  At least he only trapped Danny in video games and acted like an avuncular and completely out of touch mad scientist.  Dealing with him was almost fun, if completely terrifying sometimes.  

(Pac Man was an abomination that should never have been created.)

Anyway, Danny had, eventually, managed to get Skulker back to ground level and fish him out of his stupid helmet.  By that point, though, he’d been in the park, and then he had to get out of the park and that’s when he’d noticed the pull.  And there was only one thing that particular pull led to.

Danny couldn’t just leave the body once he’d found it.  That would be… Well, illegal, probably, but considering he was a kinda-sorta vigilante whose existence was illegal under the Anti-Ecto Acts, he didn’t really care about that.  It was more about leaving a person forgotten and unmourned.  Not given proper rites, whatever those were for the person in question.  

Maddie sighed at him.  Danny squirmed in his seat.  

“They really weren’t with me at the park.”

“But you still haven’t said why you were there.”

“I was just walking.”

“Mhm,” said Maddie, dubiously.  “But why there?”

“Why not there?”

“Because it’s all the way across the city!” said Maddie.  

“You’d tell us if you knew you were being haunted, right, Danno?” asked Jack.

“Yeah,” said Danny.  Well, if a ghost was really harassing him, he might.  He’d told them about Johnny.  He hadn’t told him about Skulker, though.  Was what Skulker was doing really haunting, though?  

Attempted murder, though, sure.  Danny didn’t think he could leave without his skin, after all.  

Maddie sighed.  “Alright.”

That signaled the end of the conversation, and Danny slid his phone out of pocket to text Sam and Tucker.  

Danny: im w my prints

Danny: left the park

Sam: u ok

Danny: ye

Tucker: u sure? skulker got u rely good that time

Tucker: and he picked u up. still p sure u cant fly

Danny: shut up

Sam: yeah tuck thats the thing hes sensitive about

Danny sighed and put his phone away.  It was over and done with.  Everything was going to be fine.  

At least, until the next time he found a dead body.  But how many missing dead people could there be in Amity Park?

.

The next time they went on a field trip, Danny wanted to beat his head in for even thinking something like that.  

“Uh, Danny,” said Tucker, “you’re eying that wall really intensely.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “that’s because there’s a corpse in it.”

“What.”

“Yeah, that was my reaction.”

“Hey, guys,” said Sam, walking up behind Danny and Tucker.  “I hate to interrupt your contemplation, but the art’s hung up over there.  Why are you both staring at a wall?  Are you turning into cats?”

“Well, Danny can already detect ghosts–”

Danny elbowed him in the side.  “There’s a dead body in the wall,” he muttered.  

Sam’s eyebrows went up.  “In an art museum?”

“That is where we are.”

“You know what I mean.  What’re you going to do?”

Danny ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.  “I don’t know.  It’s not like there’s any,” –he waved his hand at the wall– “evidence, so I can’t just call.”

“Didn’t that one detective dude give you his phone number?” asked Tucker.  “Maybe he’d believe you.”

“I don’t know…”

“You could come back as, you know, and phase it out,” suggested Sam.  

“My alter ego has enough problems without being associated with murder.”

“Maybe you could be an anonymous tip,” said Tucker, fiddling with the power button of his PDA.  “I could look up how.”

Danny made a face.  “They all know who I am.”

“All of them?” asked Tucker, skeptically.

“You try calling in five separate skeletons while being the son of ghost hunters.  Yes, they all know who I am.”

“You could still leave a letter.”

“You could ‘accidentally’ put a hole in the wall,” said Sam.  “Or you could phase something halfway in, and then when they have to clean it up, they’ll find it?”

“Doesn’t do much good when they might be the people to put it in in the first place,” said Danny, making a face.

“Could you tip someone off as… you know?”

“Same problem phasing it out of the wall.”  He covered his eyes, feeling the approach of a headache.

Ugh.  He was going to have to punch a hole in this wall.  

He’d have to do it soon, too, otherwise the tour would move on and he’d have to try something else.  

“Mr. Fenton, Miss Manson, Mr. Foley,” called Mr. Lancer, “we’re– Mr. Fenton!  Catcher in the Rye!  Why would you punch the wall?”  Over his shoulder, the tour guide and a security guard started jogging over.

“Uh,” said Danny, cradling his hand, because punching through drywall with his stupid unprotected human hand hurt.  “Because… There’s a skeleton in it?”

Why did he feel the need to tell the truth in stupid, stupid situations like this?

“Mr. Fenton,” said Mr. Lancer, thunderously, “stop making up–”  Danny knew the moment Mr. Lancer actually looked into the hole in the wall, because his face went the color of milk.  “The Cask of Amontillado,” he said, then sat down.  

.

“So,” said Detective Collins, looking at the wall.  “You want to explain how you knew this one was there?”

Danny didn’t have to fake the tears of frustration in his eyes.  His powers were so stupid sometimes.  

“Well,” said the detective.  “This is sure going to be a murder mystery and a half, then.”

.

“So, are we off to solve a murder?” asked Tucker.  

“Why would we be solving a murder?” asked Danny, dropping his backpack on the floor of the bus, where they were waiting for the police to be done with all of them.  

Tucker blinked.  “Because you just found a dead body.”

“It’s hardly the first time,” said Danny, quietly.  He didn’t exactly want something like that to become common knowledge among his fellow students.  Not that he expected it would stay quiet or anything.  

“Well, yeah, but those were just, you know, accidental deaths.”

“We don’t know that.  We don’t know anything about solving murders, either.  Why are you suddenly so gung-ho about this?  I thought dead bodies freaked you out.”

“Sure do,” agreed Tucker.  He shrugged.  “Murder mysteries are cool, though.”

“Wow,” said Sam, looking up from her paperback.  “You aren’t okay with hospitals, but murder–”

“Look, it happened a long time ago, okay?  Guy was a skeleton.  Whoever killed him must be long dead by now.”

“Yeah,” drawled Danny.  “Long dead.  Because length of time spent dead is a good indicator of how much of a problem someone is going to be.  How long have Desiree and Poindexter been dead?  How about Technus?”

Tucker opened his mouth, closed it, went through a variety of emotions, then pushed himself to the end of the bench, muttering.  

Danny leaned back, too.  Rumors at school and his bruised knuckles aside, this was almost peaceful.  

“HEY!” bellowed Dash from the front of the bus.  “CORPSE SNIFFER!”

Aaaaaand there it went. 

[littlelioncub43]

Hi!🧸I saw your recent post about a boxer going feral after a match and was thinking of Lance Tucker 🫣If you’re okay with it I was wondering if you could write something with the concept. Thank you for putting so much effort into your blog, and sorry to bother you! Have a good day 🫶🏻

*gasp* Lance, you say??? I haven't written about that bratty puppy in sooooo long 🥺 this was a good thot, I had to drabble it 😄 and you were so polite when asking, I really couldn't say no💖🫂

I still hate him 🥰 NSFW below the cut.

"This was all I could fucking think about," Lance growls in your ear between savage grunts, "every fucking day, I'd wake up hard as a fucking rock knowing that I couldn't have you, couldn't touch you, couldn't taste you— fuck it nearly drove me crazy, baby."

You try to form a response but all the comes out of your mouth is a cry of what is supposed to be Lance's name. He groans with you, your pussy was suffocating him. Plush, hot walls of your tender flesh surrounding his cock— fucking hell he was going to cum.

He bites his lip and tightens his grip on you, the crushing hold was firm enough to make your bones ache. You feel his sweaty chest heave against your equally sweaty back as he takes you from behind. His pace changing ever so slightly as he loses all semblance of technique.

When you scream for him this time, it's followed by the delicious unfolding of your high. Your pussy flutters around him crazily, a rush of your sweet juice coating his balls as they clap against your flesh. The sounds of your animalistic fucking would make the devil blush; wet smacks of your skin meeting, the squeaking of the mattress beneath you, the headboard slamming harshly into the wall in perfect time with Lance's punishing thrusts.

Oh, the noises coming out of the two of you. Deep grunts, growls, and groans pour freely from Lance's smirking lips, they were harmonized perfectly by your screams and moans. Words were lost on you both as you indulged in the carnal joys of your relationship.

3 months he'd been training for the fight against Sam "The Falcon" Wilson. For 3 months he couldn't touch you, hell, he wasn't even allowed to kiss you. So the moment he won, Lance was stalking towards you, throwing you over his shoulder and driving you both back to his apartment.

The telltale signs of his high were amplified by the waiting. He earned this, he deserved this. And by God he was going to have it. His back archd deeply as he got closer and closer, his face changing from the pinched, painful wince to a euphoric blissed out gasp. A loud groan belows out from deep in his chest as he plants himself as deep inside you as humanly possible. His hips twitch as he milks himself into your waiting cunt, you cant help but moan at the feeling. With each rope that pours into you, he trembles and whimpers loudly in your ear. It sends shivers up your spine.

Finally after what feels like an eternity, Lance relaxes with a sigh, his muscles slowly unwinding. He collapses on top of you, not bothering to pull out, both of you lying on your stomachs. You both gasp for breath, collecting your thoughts in silence as your souls return to your body. Lance buries his face in your hair and breathes deeply, groaning softly at the smell of your shampoo.

"Fuck, I missed you," he whispers under his breath. He's always soft after intense moments like that, but you also know he's not done with you. You moan his name when he begins to rut into you again, slower this time but still intense. "Won that match for you, Princess," he whispers again, pressing a smoldering kiss to your shoulder, "now, let me collect my prize."

I no longer have a taglist! If you wish to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library 💖

[jaeminscoffee]

Still with you | L. Dh

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warning(s): Sexual themes insinuated, Oral (fem receiving) mentions of multiple orgasms, softdom!Haechan, Reader slips into subspace, soft aftercare, could be potentially cringe since I've never written anything related to subspace before yikes

type; drabble: 1.14k

To explain your state of mind with a single word, the spotlight would lead to 'bliss'. 

Though, the sole meaning of the word too falls short when you are to talk about your emotions as Donghyuck skillfully works his mouth at your core. 

One can only explain your expression as that of a person who'd reached cloud nine when he pins you down with a gentle arm thrown over your waist. 

"Hyuck, oh god.." you whine out as you feel yet another high growing at the pit of your stomach.

You writhe around when Haechan finally does you a favour and slides his tongue into your wetness with much ease while simultaneously adding pressure onto your clit with his free hands.

The sight unfolding between yours legs is truly sinful that Asmodeus and Eros themselves would've grown a problem to deal with where the sun doesn't shine. 

Donghyuck lets out a throaty growl while observing you from the valley of your chest, his hips slowly grinding onto the mattress which makes him think that he could just attain his orgasm while listening to you chirping in pleasure, the pleasure he's providing you. 

He's the one making you feel this good. 

"Donghyu-.. Donghyuck I'm so cl-!" He replaces his tongue with two beautifully slender digits as the work with much experience simultaneously along with the pleasurable figure eights he's drawing onto your clit.

"Fuck baby, you're going to cum again? Am i making you feel that good?" He let's the question linger in the air, not really expecting an answer. 

You thrash around as your high hits you the moment you hear his airy voice, his fingers working hard to prolong your orgasm, your mouth open ajar, eyes screwed shut. 

You're ethereal. 

Donghyuck slows down the pace a little in order to allow some room for you to catch up on air before diving in again, quickly replacing his figures with his mouth, lapping up your essence. 

You don't really know how long your boyfriend has been going at it. You even lost count of the times you came. But this was nothing you couldn't handle, Haechan knew that all too well. 

"you're so fucking beautiful, do you know that?" he mumbles against your clitoris, replacing the thumb with his tongue before sliding two digits in once again. You sob at the sensitivity. 

"i could keep going, baby. How do you keep getting sweeter after every single high." 

"Hyuck..! " you whine at his words, jolting each time the tips of his finger brushes against your sweet spot, further encouraging another wave of pleasure to hit you all the more powerful. 

The next time you try opening your eyes, all you see is patches of darkness. You feel your hips lift off the bed, possibly entailing that you've reached your high, yet, you feel nothing other than peachy. 

You blink slowly to clear up your vision, curling up in order to clutch your stomach. Yet, you feel no more aching between your legs from the overstimulation.

It's only after the darkness subsides and you regain your senses do you realize that Donghyuck had been calling your name while patiently caressing your hair, removing the few rebellious strands stuck to your forehead. 

"You with me, doll?" he inquires softly. You let out a sound of acknowledgment, letting him know that you're back, not trusting your voice with a full fledged sentence as it could come off as hoarse and cracked from the previous whining and crying.

"Stay with me for a little longer okay? I'll clean us up real quick and then we can cuddle to sleep, hm?" Donghyuck presses a kiss onto your forehead, not caring about the sweat droplets that adorned the skin there before peeling himself off of you, walking into the bathroom. 

Donghyuck returns back in no more than 5 minutes, now wearing a new pair of sweatpants and walks towards the closet to pull out one of his t-shirts. 

He walks over with a wet cloth, and wipes your forehead first, moving onto the neck and arms while slowly making his way south, "Still with me?" he asks, pressing another peck at your torso while cleaning up your inner thigh, making a sound of apology when he senses you jolt as the cloth accidentally brushes against your core, "Mhm, yeah" 

He gently pulls his shirt over your head and walks over to his side of the bed to turn the aircon on, making sure the wings face you to cool down your burning skin, "I'll bring you water, do you want something to eat before we sleep?" Donghyuck questions, 

"Just water would do, oh and! Come back quick please" you speak in a cutesy tone as you watch him turn his back and head towards the door and outside. You hear him let out giggles at your antics, "Of course, darling." he shoots you a wink while semi jogging towards the kitchen. 

Just as you'd asked him, he returned back as quickly as possible with a glass filled with water and a protein bar ( the one covered in chocolate because you have divine taste buds). 

You accept the water, not really wanting to have anything solid at the moment no matter how tempting a mere chocolate covered protein bar looked, "You need something in that little belly of yours, doll. It isn't anything heavy so eat up" 

You shake your head, setting the half empty glass onto your bedside table. Donghyuck 'tsks', opening the wrapper halfway through and shoves it towards you, "I'll be the small spoon tonight if you eat this," 

You blink away the tiredness that keeps weighing down your eyelids at the proposal of your boyfriend being the small spoon as you blindly reach out to grab the bar, much to your disdain. 

"You're still with me, right..?" Donghyuck questions as he watches you lazily chew onto the bar, barely getting the first bite down your throat, your eyes drooping lower with each passing second. 

"Yea..?" He lets out a sigh, grabbing the bar out of your hands, while helping you chug the content with the remaining water. He cleans up the place and helps you lean back down the bed, onto the fluffy cushions, getting in immediately after. 

You curl in onto his side the moment he turns the lights off as you draw random figures onto his bare chest while waiting for slumber to completely consume you. Haechan leans down to peck a longing kiss onto your now tidy hair, hearing your breathing grow softer, the actions onto his figure growing slower, 

"I doubt you're with me-" he chuckles, "You did really well today, doll. Sweet slumber, my love" you hear him just before you fall unconscious, 

"Hmm I'm still with you.." you whisper out before letting the darkness engulf you and lead you into the dreamland.