#in the middle of a 700 notes song

[alexsnotokay]

nothing in this world makes someone angrier to literally everything than rhythm games. those fuckers will have you PISSED OFF bc you have to blink

[mrs-weasley-reid]

hi hiiiii! I was wondering if you could do a Hotch x reader where there’s maybe an age gap and it’s based on Peter by Taylor swift? I’m obsessedddd with that song. Thankssss <3

PROMISES NEVER TO KEEP

Aaron Hotchner x reader

Synopsis: He said he'll change. You believed he'd change. It's no one's fault, really. Waiting forever is just too long for heartache. WARNING: angst. pure free writing. 700+ word count. not proofread!!! A/N: tysm for this req!!! The age gap was vague, and honestly, the gap is like 9-10 yrs, r around late 20s. Also can anyone believe I sat, played the song, wrote along, and called it a day? The power of a TS song is just unmatched. I strongly suggest listening to the song while reading it.

  Aaron’s late.

  Again.

  You stare at the empty seat across from you. Then, glance at the loud ticking over the mantle. Ten past eleven. Dinner was eight.

  Deep inhales mixed with salty tears you aren’t aware have been flowing for the past five minutes enter your lungs. There’s a tug in your chest that you swear to be a phantom. You smile ever so softly with a sniff as you tuck your head to study the cold dinner on your plate.

  Was it too last minute? Was it on you?

  You told Aaron about dinner two months ago. He said he had it written down and made a note on his phone’s calendar. He said he’d make it this time. Was he lying?

  The pit of your stomach sinks. And you wonder what else he lies about.

  Hot, achy streams trail down a path on your cheeks. You stand and clear out the table, covering his serving and throwing out yours. You watch as the residue drains down the sink.

  Aaron promised.

  And you believed it like any other promises he’d broken before.

  And you’ll believe him again and again and again until there are no more promises he could outswore.

  And it’s depressing because you know you’ll forgive him every single time like a chore.

  And it’s heartbreaking because he’ll make the same promises.

  And it hurts to know he’ll never keep any of it.

  Because he’s Aaron Hotchner. The man who saves lives. The man who put away monsters. The man who’s done many good things to the world. The man who caught your heart and dropped it many times, just for him to fix it with a consolation smile.

  Aaron once said you're his favorite book. He's read you enough times to know the important lines in mind. Just never enough to notice the spaces in between by heart. Maybe it's your fault for being easy to read. Or you're just not smart enough to read Aaron. Not mature enough to understand his limbs of idioms.

  And Aaron tries. God knows you try. He does his best, and you do yours. It's no one's fault that his best is so little, and your best goes unnoticed.

  You zip around your luggage, taking a moment to see how empty the drawer Aaron saved just for you. What will he put there now?

  A familiar tune rings. The tightness on your chest, along with the sobs that echo in the empty bedroom, muffle his call into a far buzzing sound.

  With a sharp gulp to clear the ache in your throat, you pick up, “[Hey, honey…]”

  He won’t show.

  Again.

  But he promised. Your heart cries in agony. And you hug your middle like a child who deserves everything the world can offer as you reply, I know.

  Where are you?

  When are you coming home?

  Why aren’t you here?

  “Hey, sweet man,” Comes out of your lips, masking a shaky sob.

  There’s a sigh on the other end, “[I’m sorry. I won’t make it to dinner. Did you wait long?]”

  You always do. You wait until the daylight peeks in the window. Wait for him to return every single time.

  “After almost burning the house down. I think you would’ve waited longer if you had come.” The laugh comes out damp. You like to think you’re getting better at it. Lying to make him feel better.

  He hums. “[I’m sure it still would’ve tasted amazing.]” Aaron wouldn’t have known. He hasn’t known what your amazing cooking tastes like for a long time because he’s never shown up for a very long time.

  You wipe your tears and take a deep breath before staring into the place you’d once ached to call your home. Reminded by a series of his apologies and empty promises. The place where you burned all by yourself like a candle in the middle of winter.

  And now’s the final flicker of your light.

  “[Still there, honey?]”

  You give your best to sound naturally groggy, “Sorry, handsome… I had an early morning.” A lie over your breath.

  “[Go ahead and rest. I’ll see you when I get home?]”

  You grab the handle of your luggage. Memories of his sweet words flicker, clutching onto false hopes.

  You make a promise that you’ll call him to explain.

  To end things maturely.

  To offer closure.

  To meet acceptance.

  To move on.

  You promise to grow better as a person so that you’d understand an increment of the reason why he can’t make you his person.

  You promise to cross Aaron’s path again one day. When he’s old and gray. When you don’t need to pray. When you know, he’ll stay.

  Placing the spare keys on the bowl, your fingers press the switch to dark.

  “See you when you get home.”

  It’s a promise you won’t keep.

hotch masterlist | masterlist

[aiden-aka-winn]

A notes thing cuz I can

10 notes - I stop listening to Easy-Peasy Euthanasia for a month

20 notes - I stop being friends with one of my best friends(One of them is toxic🙂)

30 notes - I do whenever the first comment says

40 notes - I start posting on my YouTube channel more often

50 notes - I start dancing in public(AT SCHOOL CUZ I’M SO PREPPY)

60 notes - I start doing more art commission

70 notes - I GO HIT THE GRIDDY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CLASS

80 notes - I go a day without hitting the griddy

90 notes - I start doing something with my life

100 notes - I DRESS UP AS ∆IDEN FOR NEXT YEAR’S HALLOWEEN

200 notes - I make 3 videos per day

300 notes - I find a fictional character to simp over

400 notes - I sing the Lorax song when it’s my birthday

500 notes - I go snitch on someone that happens this school year

600 notes - I START YAPPING ABOUT RANDOM STUFF TO MY BSF

700 notes - I say “TRYIN HIT A NOTE AND IT’S PROBABLY A MINORRRRRRR”

800 notes - Uh- I start drawing silly stuff

900 notes - I ask someone if they want to dance in recess

1,000 notes - Ahem, I GO EXPOSE MYSELF😍😍

2,000 notes - I try to sing on Youtube

3,000 notes - I show my parents my favorite song(It’s obvi Easy-Peasy Euthanasia duh)

4,000 notes - I buy whatever I touch first next year

5,000 notes - I Draw Agoti from Fnf

6,000 notes - I try to sing in karaoke with my friends

7,000 notes - I learn how to translate Japanese to English

8,000 notes - I buy my teacher a gift

9,000 notes - I make an fake collab on youtube

10,000 notes - I DO THE “I’LL MAKE YOU SAY HOW PROUDDDD YOU ARE OF ME.”

[323cutie]

take my soul, take my heart. | cs

pairing ୨୧ san x reader

word count ୨୧ 700

genre ୨୧ suggestive... fluff? lol is sexy a genre... is being horn knee for san a genre...

warnings ୨୧ mentions of sex, reader is implied to be a bit tipsy

author's note ୨୧ i need him and i need to do things to him and i need him to do things to me (blind is my most listened to ateez song)

18+ mdni!

It’s a vibrant night.

The middle of summer is unforgiving, but still kind with the way she gives you warm, comfortable nights. Crickets sing outside in time with the music in the bar, a chorus of youth and heat, a dance of love and excitement. Your eyes glow under the low lights, fitting in perfectly with the weightlessness of your limbs, the bass thrumming in your bones.

You don’t know how long the band has been on stage, but you know the singer has been looking at you their whole set.

He’s pretty. Warm and languid when he looks at you, passion lacing the edges of his voice when he sings. Your friends’ chatter slowly fades away, caught up in the sweetness of your drink and the kind, smouldering eyes of the stranger on stage.

He finds you soon after – at least, you think; he slides into the space beside you at the bar, eager but poised. You turn your full attention to him and he smiles, pretty dimples taking shape. He fits in so easy, warm and humid and bright. “Can I buy you another?” He asks, pointing to your empty glass.

You shake your head, do nothing to hide your gaze as you take him in. “Think I’m done for the night,” you answer. “Will you tell me your name?”

He grins, leans forward until he’s closer to you. One of his arms rests across the back of your chair, and you can’t help the fire that spreads through you when you catch the faint smell of his cologne, woody and floral and masculine. Once he seems to decide he’s close enough to you, his voice is a gentle baritone as he says, “San.”

It’s just his name, but you feel it wash over you like a wave. San’s eyes hold a question that you answer with your own name, and your voice seems to have the same effect on him – somehow, under the constant chatter of the full bar and the familiar beat of a song you’ve never heard, it feels like you’re in your own world with him. Barely touching, a whisper away, surrounded by midsummer heat.

“Do you dance?” He asks. 

You don’t even have to think about your answer. “With you, I do,” you respond. San grins, pretty dimples and all, then holds his hand out to you.

The dance floor is alive, and you and San find a spot in the middle of it all. You don’t usually dance, but you don’t usually get approached by people like San, either – but your footsteps match with his easily. You feel warm, burning, letting him pull you to his chest, then letting you go in a spin full of colors and laughter. The songs blur together until they slow enough for you to gather San in your arms, guiding his hands to your waist.

“Your voice is beautiful,” you tell him. There’s more, but you think he knows. His skin is golden and you want to see it under the moonlight, against your hands, pressed into your sheets. 

San laughs, and you think his ears are pink. “Yeah?” He asks, and you know it’s rhetorical, but you nod along anyways. “I’ll sing for you all night, then, hm?”

You preen, take half a step closer to him like the heat doesn’t matter. San lets you, pulls you to him, breathes you in. You wonder how he’ll sing for you – later, outside, walking you home, sweet like honey? Pressed against your front door, wound up and free, melodies bouncing off the walls of your hallway? Or maybe into your pillows, lyrics breathed into your skin, sucked into bruises on your thighs? 

It won’t take long, you think. The stars glimmer in his eyes but their focus switches to your lips, your neck. You feel like you’re standing outside midday, overwhelmed with something white hot. San’s fingers twitch at your waist like they’re aching and you want nothing more than to ease the pain.

You exhale, push closer, chest to chest. San sighs when your fingers play with the delicate chain around his neck.

“You’ll walk me home?” You ask, though you already know the answer. 

“Of course,” San says, eyes bright. He’s already inching towards the exit, and you follow. “I’ll take you anywhere, honey, just tell me where to go.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you lead him out of the bar, into the hazy street, fingers intertwined like fate. He sings for you here, true to his word, and his voice meshes beautifully with the fire in your heart and the desire both of you share.

[tonicandjins]

it's swowwen."

CHARACTERS: lee donghyuck | haechan x reader

WORD COUNT: 700+

GENRE: established relationship

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this had to be written. please consider donating/tipping me

"it's swowwen." is the (unplanned) fifth installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

“It’s done,” the text message says. “We are on our way.”

The text message from Donghyuck’s manager was enough to make you jump off your feet, barely slipping your shoes properly and almost tripping on your way out of your apartment. Donghyuck worked until one in the morning, based on the evidently exhausted text he sent saying he’d just reached the dorm. It was barely nine in the morning when you’d gotten a call from Donghyuck himself, groaning in pain, saying his wisdom tooth is going to kill him one day.

It’s been bothering him for quite some time now, and you’d told him again and again to have it removed. But there was always an excuse when it comes to the expense of his own health and well-being: his stupidly packed schedule you can’t seem to comprehend despite dating for over two years now.

It would have been the best time to say, “I told you so,” as soon as you’d heard him crying in pain, but of course, the first thing you’d done was call his manager because you know that Donghyuck would never. Because you know Donghyuck’s probably thinking of the comeback and with fear of being placed on an indefinite hiatus again. It’s an unhealthy and risky mindset—the way Donghyuck avoids the H-word by not telling people how he feels—but it’s something he’d promised he would work on.

He needs to work on it harder.

Hence, you find yourself running from your unit’s floor down to the main entrance. Donghyuck needs to be taken care of today, and with Dream’s schedule, none of the managers will be available to tend to him today, which is why they ended up deciding to send him to your apartment for the day.

A few minutes later, with careful eyes ensuring no fan or pap is around to see him, Donghyuck is nestled in the middle of your bed, snuggling with your pillows and comforter. You sit on his side, making sure he’s comfortable by fluffing up the pillows on his side.

“It’s swowwen,” he whines sleepily, evidently high from the dosages of anesthesia they gave him before the surgery. “My face. It’s swowwen.”

Unable to fight the urge to kiss him, you give him a soft, barely-there peck on the forehead, careful not to touch his face especially where it hurts. “It’s not so bad, baby. It’ll come down.”

“It’s very swowwen,” he repeats, sighing as he looks up to you. Donghyuck looks a lot like a baby right now. “I don’t want to look swowwen in pictures.”

“No one’s taking picture of you, baby,” you assure him, fixing your blanket on him and gently running your hand through his hair.

“I did,” he pouts. “I sent it in Bubble.”

You giggle. “If you don’t want to look swollen in pictures, why did you send it to Bubble?”

“My fans are going to keep it a secret,” he answers, eyelids heavy. “Don’t let me fall asleep. This is the only time I ever get to be with you.”

You smile. “Will you sleep if I come cuddle you?”

Donghyuck’s eyes give up on him, but he quickly opens his eyes, exaggeratingly keeping it open in attempts to stay away. “Come cuddle me. I won’t sleep.”

“Sure,” you say, moving one of the pillows behind him and allowing yourself to occupy the space beside your boyfriend. As promised, you cuddle him—carefully, of course. “I told you to get that removed last year. You didn’t listen.”

“You’re starting to sound like my mom,” he mumbles against your hair. “If you keep with that, I might just marry you.”

“You won’t remember anything when you wake up,” you chuckle softly, kissing his clothed chest. “Marry me, then.”

“Now?” he asks, determined. “Can we get married even if I’m swowwen?”

“Sure, we can,” you answer. “Alright. Tell me your vows.”

Donghyuck sighs. “I’m writing you a song.”

Among all the confessions, you’ve never heard this one before.

“But it’s not yet 100% completely done,” he mumbles. He’s starting to fall asleep. “So, I won’t tell you my vows. I’ll sing them to you.”

Then, Donghyuck hums a song you’d never heard of. The lyrics, as expected with his condition at this time, are all groggy and incoherent, but he sings about how cool it would be to run around and dance with you forever.

Donghyuck falls asleep like that. You wonder if he remembers all of this when he wakes up later in the afternoon.

(He doesn’t. He doesn’t even remember posting a picture of himself all swowwen.)

[angelst4re]

First I love your writing it’s truly beautiful. Please never stop. 💕

I was going to ask if you could write one when Jamie is in the middle of a concert for his band and he sees some guys hitting on you (his girl) in the crowd and stops doing the show to yell at the guys and bring you on stage keeping you close the whole time then after the show he takes you home to show you who the better man is (meaning him) 🥰

Thank you! Again I love your writing 💕

hello lovely!! thank you so much ily!! :') and ofc... i don't plan on stopping any time soon!! <3

Come Get Some- Counterfeit!Jamie x Reader

summary: in the request! :)

warnings: NSFW! contains smut! if you're uncomfortable then please don't read, my love! also i wrote this on my phone and i kinda hate it :(

notes: I'VE HIT 700 FOLLOWERS?!!?!?! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH :') you don't understand how insane this is to me. also i thought i should mention i have broken my laptop again! it's not charging (so it could be the charger that's broken? i'm getting a new one tomorrow!) so thats why i've written this on my phone... i cannot write on my phone...

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You decided to surprise Jamie by following his band on tour, you wanted to keep it a secret until the show but he ended up spotting you beforehand. You were sure that if he knew you were going to be coming, he could’ve gotten you special seats or somewhere with a better view, but you knew you just wanted to be in the crowd, enjoying seeing your favourite band just like everybody else, and so you were.

That was until one of the men from behind you started trying to talk to you. He asked your name, and you thought it would be rude to ignore him, so you told him and just brushed him off, ignoring his next few questions, focusing on your boyfriend instead. But it was getting quite difficult when the stranger was touching your arm.

When Jamie looked over at you with a smile, he noticed you looked uncomfortable, and gave you a look which said ‘are you okay?’, to which you shook your head and mouthed a ‘help!’ to him. He gave you a nod and instead of carrying on with the song after Sam’s instrumental, he proceeded to point towards you and address the man that was harassing you.

“Take your filthy fucking hands off my girlfriend, you cunt!” He jumped down from the stage and spoke to a member of his security, who escorted you away from the other man and led you towards the stage, where Jamie held his hand out to you. “If I see anything like this at my fucking show again…” He began to threaten, but was cut short when you were finally by his side.

He took your face in his hands, asking if you were okay, and you nodded your head. Taking you by surprise, he then leaned down and crashed his lips into yours in a hot, possessive, rough kiss. You couldn’t believe the sight before you, he looked so good you almost had to press your thighs together. His hair was damp was sweat, falling over his eyes, his t-shirt was discarded long ago and his jeans were so low, showing off his v-line and the tiniest bit of hair which you know led down to his-

“Go to the side of the stage, baby. Venus is there too- Sam’s girlfriend, you remember her, right? I’ll see you after the show, okay? I love you!” He told you in a rush before he returned to the mic and you scurried off to greet Venus with a hug.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Oh fuck! Yes, Jamie! Right there!” You moaned, your fingers raking through his hair as his face was buried between your thighs.

You had gotten back to the hotel with him, and within seconds you had both taken your clothes off and were tangled together on the bed, hands all over each other, and it eventually led to him eating you out.

With your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair, you grasped at the bed sheets, squirming and whimpering as his tongue worked your clit whilst his fingers pumped in and out of you, curling into your sensitive spot each time.

“No one else can ever make you feel this good, darling.”

“No… Only you…” You panted, feeling your high creeping up on you, forming in your belly.

“That’s right, baby.” You could tell he was smirking against you, before he suckled your clit between his lips and sent you over the edge.

Your thighs tried to shut around him as he worked you through your orgasm, yet his hands kept you spread for him. He let go of your clit with a ‘pop’, and the sight of your slick coating his lips was enough to send you into your second orgasm already. He could tell you wanted more, yet he wanted to tease you beforehand.

He slowly slid his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth and watching your face as he sucked on them, savouring the taste of your sweet cunt.

Then he began to move up the bed, he placed his hands either side of your ribcage and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“You ready, my love?” He asked, and you didn’t give an answer, instead you reached down and took his cock into your hand, rubbing his tip with your thumb before positioning him so he was lined up with you, all he had to do was-

“Holy fuck!” You gasped as he pushed himself into you, leaving you fully stuffed with his cock. He grinned against your neck at your reaction, before resuming his attack on you, covering you in blotchy marks that let everyone know you were his. Only his.

He reached over to the bedside table and picked up his cigarettes, his cock still inside you. You grasp onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you attempt to move your hips, desperately wanting him to move, but instead he lights his cigarette and then reaches for the tie he had been wearing a few nights prior and shoots you an evil grin before he sits up, an inch or so of his cock slipping out of you as he takes your wrists and ties them together above your head.

“They stay there, okay?” He told you as he began to rock his hips into yours at a painfully slow pace.

“Jamie please, go faster.” You whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” He smirked as he began to pick up the pace.

You threw your head back, feeling impossibly wonderful. His cock pounding into you distracted you from the fact he had passed the cigarette to you, slipping it between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked on it, and let the toxic fumes fill your lungs as pleasure ran through your veins, leaving you feeling totally euphoric.

He took the cigarette back, placing it back between his lips as you blew the smoke out to the side before looking back up at him.

It wasn’t long before you were flipped over, now on your hands and knees- although your hands were still tied, Jamie held them in place behind your back.

He put his cigarette out and both his hands were placed on your waist, pulling you closer to him with each thrust of his hips, causing his cock to hit deeper and deeper as he fucked into you.

“Shit, Jamie I’m so c-close.” You whimpered, trying to turn your head to look at him.

“Shhh, it’s okay, darling. Let go for me when you’re ready. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah? That’s right, good girl.” He cooed, stroking circles with his thumb on your waist as he talked you through your high.

He felt your walls clamp down around him as you came, pushing him dangerously close to the edge. He let out a groan as he bit down on his lip, before spilling inside of you. His movements came to an end as he tried to compose himself, to catch his breath and slow his heartbeat.

He moved you once again, this time you were on his lap, his cock still buried deep inside of you, although some of his cum had begun leaking down your thigh. You expected a second round, for him to begin fucking up into you, but he didn’t move. He held you close to his chest as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, giving you a lazy smile.

“I love you.” He said, stroking your hair. However, you were too worn out from the previous antics, and you had began drifting into sleep on his chest.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

17. talk about your writing and editing process <3

Man apparently I’m allergic to checking my inbox but HEY better late than never my love!

So my process, if you can even call it that, is chaotic as FUCK!!! I stare off into space writing it mentally first, type all my bullshit in my notes app like a heathen, don’t proofread, drop unsolicited personal lore in the notes, all that. Gonna use TWITR as an example again btw

I’ve said it before, but The Webs In The Rafters is based on a WHACK ASS DREAM I HAD. specifically chapter 17 and the climax of the story. Like I was the Kenny character, Sansa the dog was telepathically speaking in my mind, there were piles of cuddling cats everywhere, the sound of helicopter blades and a trail of spiders in the hay. I woke up like bro what the hell this is a story right here and I went from there. And in fleshing out the plot, pinning the story beats, the time I was writing it was PERFECT TIMING. Because I had a six hour drive to make for a friend’s wedding. And what did my insane ass do? I FUCKING RAWDAWGED that drive. No music, no audiobook, just silent highways and plotting TWITR. By the time I got home I had a very clear idea of where I was going with the story that at that point was only a few set up chapters and a title.

Speaking of titles, a lot of the time I have titles before I have plot, which is kinda weird bc I know a lot of people struggle with titles, but that’s one of the first things that comes to me. Especially with my one shots, like my kysterion fic All The Punches That I’ve Thrown. That lyric popped into my head and a fic idea with it. Song lyrics inspire a LOT of ideas for me.

So does art. Like with In The Truly Gruesome, I saw a drawing emilyartstudios did of Stan and Shelley working a booth for Tegrity at a fair and I was like YO WHAT IF I FUCKED THIS UP AND STUCK ZOMBIE ALIENS IN THERE lmfao. And ofc, the OrangeJuiceVerse wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t seen foxydodo’s art of basketball player Kyle and mascot Stan.

While oneshots come together pretty fast for me usually, being written out in my head to be typed out in the course of a day (back in the days of janitor Riley bored as shit at work and having the time and energy for that lol), multichapters are require more thought structurally. So what I like to do with a multichap:

Think of it in three acts. In script writing, there’s something called the “page 12 event”, the event that gets the plot rolling near the beginning of the film. And I like to stick an event like that at the end of chapter 1 of my stuff a lot of the time, like ITTG and uhhhh yeeting Stan into a mineshaft after we find out the boys are being chased by monsters (jesus what is wrong with me). What I’m getting at: I like to know where my beginning middle and end are, how the characters are feeling at each step, how their relationships change, all that. And a lot of the time I think of the end before I do the middle or beginning tbh. Like I said, chaos. I think of a random scenario (as we know usually someone is hurt and getting taken care of bc I’m fucking evil and that’s where my brain goes constantly), hence the WhumpShots.

And I do primarily operate in WhumpShots. I picture a scene with a character getting their injuries tended, sick and dizzy but having a friend or loved one at their side, etc, and BAM that scene becomes a oneshot. Even the REALLY short ones, like the sot bunny I did last summer called So Only Say My Name, was about 700 words and one sequence of events. That kind of to the point structure comes easy to me, which is why I loved doing Style Week so much; new oneshot prompt every day. And while I don’t usually proofread after I finish a work, I edit as I go, sometimes post random lines on here or send a screenshot to the R.A.N.T. homies (I’ve definitely done this more as of late, a habit from when I attempted writing smut for the first time and would send neen a screenshot all “IS THIS CRINGE?!?” lmfao I love the Idea Trampoline tho). And I can’t spell so autocorrect is fr my saving grace unless it betrays me. Off the top of my head I can think of 3 words in 3 separate fics that I need to fix but am simply not going to bc that requires effort and oh fuckin well.

And I say that, but I may be lax about the more fiddly stuff but I care SO much about the big picture. Like “does this convey the feelings I want it to? Is this going to be a bright spot in someone’s day? Is the vibe I want there?” That’s my priority. If I can leave an impact on a reader, entertain them, make them smile, that’s what matters to me.

Jesus sorry this was a convoluted answer lmao it’s 3 in the morning and I woke up all “hey I should actually check my inbox” and here we are

Thank u for asking abt my chaos melda tâe

[this-will-be-what-kills-me]

Today the exhaustion felt like it had seeped into my bones and even to have my eyes open was fighting the greatest war. I did the things I had to do and inbetween I lay in bed and prayed for sleep to take me under, just for a little while.

I wonder if the exhaustion is linked to the sadness. That wasn’t in the self help books or on the Google results when I researched what to expect when your mum is dying. I read all about the changes in breathing, the change in skin tone, changes in eating and drinking and sleeping habits. Change, change, change. I close my eyes and wish it would all stay the same. Even in this moment where she’s the worst she’s ever been and I feel like I’m made up of 50% worry and 50% grief, she’s here.

I’ve poured my heart out on these very notes pages more times than I can count… screamed about my hurt from the rooftops. I cried about everything and now none of it seems worth it. In all that time, I never once doubted my strength or ability to carry mountains on my back. I thought that’s what I was doing. But this has taken me down, day by day, minute by minute. I feel this physically slice through my heart 700 times a day and my legs go so weak that I have to sit down and I never know which will be the time I don’t make it back up again.

I just downloaded The Carpenters because she listened to it when I was growing up and I know even now that it will take me years to press play. But if life is all about those little threads and invisible strings then mum, I want spider strength to tie me to you forever and ever and ever. I want to see your face in real life, I want your smiles and your sarcasm and your sharp tongue to be the reality instead of the waking up in the middle of the night with your sadness haunting my dreams. I want it all to be over so badly that I’ll never stop feeling guilty for wishing time to move faster when you have so little of it left. And if we had a thousand or a million seconds to go, I know it would never be enough.

How am I supposed to ever fall in love or buy a house or get married or have a child without you being a part of it. Who do I call when I can’t call ‘mama’ from my phone. How am I supposed to go on living when you’re not here? Up to now, it’s been 18 months of grieving for someone who still takes breaths. Not once in those 18 months have I felt true joy or happiness, not once have I laughed without thinking of all the jokes you’re going to miss. And mum, I am so, so scared. I’m so terrified that I feel sick so often, I cry when I’m on my own for more than 5 minutes, I never put my phone down when I can help it. TV lost its interest a long time ago, songs that I loved became reminders of the biggest loss I’ll ever know. I’m scared because I know what’s coming and I know that I’ll never be ready. All of this I guess is just to say, that if this pain is the price for getting to love you extra these past 18 months, if this pain is punishment for all those years of conflict, if I have no choice other than to sit here and take it then I want you to know that I’d hurt and bleed and cry for you a billion times over. If there was any way on this earth that I could help you to stay then I’d have already found it. And I love you, I love you, I love you. You are a part of me forever ❤️

[queennicoleinboots]

Patches's Dreamland (700 A.D.)

(sequel to 'Dash Through the Time and Space Continuum')

Patches meowed. The cat that looked like Patches who was beside the past Lindsay meowed in song.

We all enjoyed eating our various styles of pizzas. Our King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear was eating the chocolate cupcakes from Chef Vanilla Mac's Pizza. Count Vanilla Manilla was eating the vanilla cupcakes.

The past King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear ate chocolate cupcakes and pepperoni pizza. Past Queen Nicole was eating vanilla cupcakes and Supreme pizza. They accidentally had a child named King Kirby Patches. We fed Kings Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears a lot of food and made them pregnant. The two cats named Patches watched as we all made food love.

In our feasting, we were transferred to the market that was next to the castle in Córdoba, which was the capitol of what we now call Spain.

"During this time, Spain as we know it didn't exist yet," our Jaybird said. "That region was controlled by the Moorish Arabs and was part of the Umayyad Caliphate."

"You are correct, Fellow me! We just called it Spain because we are from the future," the past-future Jaybird said.

"From what time period?" our Jaybird asked.

"1611," that Jaybird said.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU END UP HERE?!" our Jaybird asked.

"It was an ancient spell I found in a text during my travels in Turkey," that Jaybird answered.

"How long has this been going on?" our King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear asked.

Two more King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears walked over with glasses of thick goat milk. King Kirby Patches drank some of that milk.

The Sir Paul the Goats bleated in stereo. The bears growled in stereo.

The Kings Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears ate Entermann's donut holes, donuts, ice cream, pizzas, corn tortilla chips, and cookies. Their bellies were so big that they started talking when they were hungry. They even wanted 28 pounds of chicken for the festival.

Queen Nicole and I rubbed all four bellies of the Kings Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears. Two of the King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears panted while the other two growled when they didn't get affection.

I fed chicken to the two cats named Patches. They were happy, good-looking cats. I petted them while they ate. I treated them like Joebear and Albear treated Oreo: petting her while her fat ass black ass white ass ate. They both needed to be held and petted while they ate. It was ridiculous.

In other news, I also fed Sir Rollo's dog, Cody, a pitbull a big fat steak. Afterward, he kneaded his straw bedding before he growled and laid on a rock.

Chef Vanilla Mac drank vanilla ale. Count Vanilla Manilla came over to us and ate a feast of whole wheat bread, chicken, and herb and garlic goat cheese.

The Sir Paul the Goats bleated in song. The bears growled in song.

I drank Romanga Cagnina wine straight from the Roman Empire and ate herb and garlic cheese melted over bread and butter. Then, I ate serrano peppers.

The Sir Paul the Goats bleated while the bears growled in opera. The Lindsays and Jaybirds bleated high notes. The cats named Patches meowed for five seconds.

The Kings Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears drank that wine. Chef Vanilla Mac drank white wine. Count Vanilla Manilla drank mead and ate pepperoni pizza.

The Lindsays ate cherry peppers like grown women. Then, they fell asleep.

The two cats named Patches urinated and defecated in a stream. Those fish were going to have a great feasting.

Cody laid near the stream in which the cats did their business. He was biting on himself because he needed to groom. He then moved away to the middle of the woods to rest.

Queen Nicole and I laid near Cody and took a nap.

---------------------------------------------------------

Goats bleated and woke me up. I bleated and closed my eyes again. Goats were running toward a watering hole and splashing around.

Chef Vanilla Mac started singing "Figaro Figaro Figaro!" Then he played a harp and skipped around. After the song, he requested to eat Spanish rice, chicken, and gravy. He was also very hungry.

A Spanish woman with strong facial features named Margot cooked him the rice, chicken, and gravy and fed it to him. He thanked her before he drank the whole bottle of white wine.

The Kings Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears, Queen Nicole, and I also drank our bottles of wine. I even manifested a Wendy's double cheeseburger and munched on that.

Cody barked at me loudly before he ate some chicken and rice. It scared me.

Chef Vanilla Mac then boiled some coffee and manifested a piece of raspberry cheesecake. Meanwhile, I continued to munch on my burger.

After I ate my burger, I needed to discuss politics with King Simmons, so I went into the castle and argued about what our future will be. Cody followed me and barked a menacing bark. Apparently, he did not agree with my utopian ideals that I was sharing with King Simmons. He found them unrealistic.

The cats named Patches and Kings Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears also came to discuss politics with us. I wrapped my body around my calm and collected King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear. The Patches from our timeline laid at my feet while Cody pawed at me.

The hangry King Chocolate-covered Gummy Bear ate some apples as he was laying down and burped. I tried to hold in a fart. Then after our long conversation about trying to make Al-Andalus our land, I went into the chamber in which I was staying, fell asleep, and probably farted anyway.

---------------------------------------------------------

The Patches from their timeline nuzzled against my face and woke me up. She purred and then sat on my face. I laughed. She then put her face to mine, and we kissed.

The happy go-lucky King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear from their timeline was dancing to mariachi music in some woods that were 80 feet away.

When I got up, their Patches meowed at me while I went to make coffee, cute oranges, and eggs for the inebriated King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear from their timeline. He was hungry again. Our Patches meowed at me before the inebriated King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear manifested her breakfast.

Chef Vanilla Mac ate chicken and white wine and coffee for breakfast. Cody was barking excessively at Queen Megen Ace's toilet garden.

Queen Megen Ace was making dinner while King Bruce Ace was cooking ribs on the barbeque. Peter was bitching about how he still had to install stonewalls in this timeline.

Count Vanilla Manilla was drinking more white wine because his headache was killing him. The headache then infected the center of his brain and caused his head to explode.

--------------------------------------------------------

We went into an alternate universe of floating heads that looked like Chef Vanilla Mac and Count Vanilla Manilla. Sir Rollo laid with Cody as well before Cody did his runs through the castle halls of licking people's faces happily and wagging his tail.

"We are honored by you, great dog," King Simmons spoke.

Riley the Ace of Riddling and Duke the Ace of Dodging barked simultaneously.

Sir Paul the Goat bleated. Patches meowed and ate salmon. I drank sage coffee. Patches and I went fishing after we had coffee and breakfast.

I had a huge red fish at the end of my pole, and Patches had a huge blue fish at the end of her pole. We both got sucked in the water with our fishing poles and swam in the stream with those huge fishes. We were trying to consume each other. The food chain was broken, and it exploded.

---------------------------------------------------------

Patches and I were then flying out of Dr. Seuss's ass along with the red fish and the blue fish. We ended up in a hurricane in a giant white porcelain fish bowl. We were then flushed in what we now know as the English Channel.

The other cat named Patches meowed and managed to turn the television off.

[onbeinganangel]

more kiss prompt fills because i'm actually having the best time writing these! this one is for @cibeewastaken who asked for "hand kisses!!!! let me invite you for a dance!!!!! let’s end it with a kiss on the cheek!!!!"

unedited as always so please ignore any mistakes, i promise i can write lol

do it again

(draco/harry, 700-ish words)

Draco doesn’t really acknowledge Harry’s tardiness until it crosses over the half-hour mark. He doesn’t actually notice it in the first ten minutes — probably a combination of well brewed tea, his favourite biscuits and Luna’s incessant chattering. He does get a little fidgety after twenty minutes, but it’s Harry, so he lets it slide.

Harry is thirty-seven minutes late when the owl comes. Draco’s heart beats in his throat, threatening and quick with worry until Luna unfolds the note and Draco recognises the messy handwriting and sighs with relief. He leans in and reads over his friend’s shoulder:

Luna,

I’m so sorry. I know it’s the second time we’ve had to reschedule this interview. Work has been mental today and Ron got punched in the face. (He’s fine, it was actually kind of funny.) Draco will be upset so if you have any of those hibiscus biscuits of yours with the lemon icing that you could spare, send him home with a few. I’ll owe you.

Tell him I’m really sorry and I’ll see you both at the Gala tonight.

H x

In the end, Harry is almost an hour late to the Gala, but has at least the decency to look like he’s gone home and showered, so that's something. His robes — a present from Draco — have the most beautiful velvet trim all the way around and the gold chain hooking to the two sides of his collar matches the classic aviator shaped glasses Draco loves so much.

He stops along the way to say hello to a few people but otherwise, crosses the room straight in Draco’s direction, which is unusual. It’s no secret Draco and Harry are friends. It was the press' favourite subject for a while, back in the day, when Draco first helped the Auror Department with a tricky potions case, but it died down surprisingly quickly. Draco was in good terms with most of the Gryffindors and it had all gotten rather easy once Blaise and Ginny got engaged. So Harry talking to Draco at a public event like this isn’t new, but it’s still weird to watch Harry make such an obvious beeline for him.

Draco tries but can't really stop himself from smiling when Harry reaches his table, bright eyes and chin dimple showing.

“Sorry I missed you earlier,” Harry says, friendly as always, because they’re always being heard in events like this, whether they notice or not.

Draco knows all Harry isn’t saying.

“I’m sure you had plenty of kneazles to pull down off trees and the like, Potter. Don’t worry,” he retorts.

Harry grimaces.

And then, the music starts again, and Harry leans in closer and offers Draco his hand.

“What are you doing?” Draco whispers, heart beating loud and fast in his chest, heat rising to his face.

“Getting this over with,” Harry says, smile dripping with mischief.

“Harry.” Draco says firmly.

“If I’d made it to the interview with Luna, we’d be in all the papers tomorrow anyway. Come on.”

Draco remains firmly seated, measuring his options. This is not what they’d been planning for for months.

“Scared, Malfoy?”

He shouldn’t respond to childish provocations, he knows he shouldn’t, but before he can regret it, Draco slides his hand into Harry’s palm, relishing in the feeling of the familiar heat. For a moment, he almost does regret it, as Harry lowers his face down and kisses the back of Draco’s hand with reverence.

“Dance with me?” he asks, and pulls Draco swiftly onto the middle of the ballroom.

If Draco tries really hard, he almost forgets where they are. If he ignores the feeling of the robes swishing around his ankles, the sound of dozens of people dancing around them too, the shocked murmuring rippling through the room and the flash of cameras going off again and again and again, it’s almost their weekly routine. It’s almost as if the wireless is on and the french toast is frying away in the pan — the kitchen richly scented with cinnamon and honey — and Harry is barefoot, spinning him around the kitchen table, a warm calloused hand under Draco’s t-shirt, against his bare back.

They’re not in their kitchen, but it’s still Harry, it’s still his Harry against him and it feels good to finally do this, to not have to hide behind friendly smiles and leave separately even though they’ve been sleeping in the same bed for nearly two years.

He’s almost disappointed when the song finishes and Harry twirls him around and plants a slow, gentle kiss on his cheek, taking the time to whisper a “Was that so bad?”

And Draco smiles at him properly then and says, “Actually, no. Let’s do it again.”

[kurokens]

I used to hear a simple song | Nanami Kento

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: nanami kento

words: 700+

pronouns: none

notes: heavy manga spoilers under the cut, anime only you've been warned. content warnings are under the cut bc spoilers. this is my first work im ever posting, so i have no idea if it will ever be seen but if you do see it hey besties thank you for reading, hope you will like it. also english isn't my native language so yeah im sorry if it's poorly written. i might write some words as british would and some as americans would sorry i can't make up my mind.

not proof read

song rec: I wrote this listening to this song, I highly recommend listening to it while reading.

warnings: manga spoilers, major character death, angst, a lot of sadness, a bit of fluff if you look hard enough, my writing ig

You knew this wasn't what he would have wanted, seeing you on the ground, crying so hard you couldn't even hear the knocking on your door anymore. Hugging his shirt close to your heart, scared that if you were to let go all of your shared memories would also disappear. That he would rather see you smile, this smile he had always loved and cherished, the one that made him the happiest man on earth. You knew all of that but you couldn't help yourself, how could you. Your everything had just been taken away from you, there was a hole in your heart and nothing would ever be able to fill it.

Nanami Kento, the love of your life, the one person that gave your life a meaning was gone. The man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, was no longer here.

Your tears were slowly drying, or you were just out of them, you didn’t really know and you didn’t care. Nanami’s song that he would always play, could be heard in the background, and no matter how much it hurt you, you needed it. Listening to it was bringing you back into his arms, you could feel his warmth enveloping you and hear his tender voice whispering sweet nothing to you as you both would sway the evening away. Slowly but surely the song lulled your exhausted self to sleep, allowing you to meet the person you loved the most one last time in your dreams.

Here he was, standing in the middle of your living room, his hand extended towards you, inviting you to yet another dance. With a laugh you took his hand, you always did, you always would. When you were in his arms it felt like time stopped, nothing around you mattered anymore. As long as you were together, you were unstoppable. His low voice was the only thing keeping you here, in this exact moment.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He murmured in your ear. “You make me so happy. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll make sure you know how grateful I am for you.”

You chuckled at his words, if only he knew just how much he changed your life. You should be the one praising him for his hard work, for risking his life every day in order to save others. If one of you had to be lucky to have the other here, it would be you, and that’s exactly what you told him in between short but passionate kisses. Which only resulted in him sighing, he just wouldn’t let you have the last word, he never did when it came to this.

"You made me a much better man, you are the one I fight for every day. But one day I'll take you far away from here, far away from this shitty jujutsu world. We will live happily, just the two of us, no more curse to worry about." He said, softly swaying you in rhythm to the music, giving you yet another kiss in the crook of your neck. "I promise you'll live the happy life you deserve. I'll make sure you do. I'm here to stay, always."

Unfortunately, the song slowly came to a stop, but Nanami and you never stopped dancing, you couldn’t, not yet. So, you closed your eyes and hugged him a bit tighter, hoping that if you did you would be able to stay here forever, trapped in his strong arms, head resting on his chest, away from everything, from your reality where he was no longer here. You gripped his shirt harder, scared to see him leave and never return.

“Please don’t go.” You finally cracked. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“I have to sweetheart.” He sorrowfully replied, his hands rubbing circles on your back.

“Kento, please I need you here.” You sobbed, desperately holding onto him.

“I’ll always be. I’m sorry, I love you.” Nanami whispered his last words, leaving one last kiss on your temple before disappearing, your arms suddenly clutching nothing but air. After a while you finally started opening your eyes only to be met by your empty living room and your dead lover’s shirt in your hands. He was gone and you had to accept it, but you weren't sure if you would ever be able to.

You were certain of it, falling in love with Nanami Kento was the best thing that had ever happened to you, but in the end, it seemed like it also was your own curse.

[gahye0n]

Orange Slices and Maple Syrup

jiu | dreamcatcher | 700+ words | fluff

request: hii!! i love your works sm and i was wondering if you could write a jiu x fem reader fluff doing just mundane things together as gf and jiu just taking care of the reader? just minji in her own natural charms 🥺 thank you sm❤️

-

It was a pancakes kind of morning, and the smell still lingered even as you washed the sticky maple syrup from yours and Jiu's plates. How sweet it was, Jiu's arms around your middle, chin rested atop your shoulder. You struggled to place the song she was humming - one of her own perhaps?

The drying rack was filled to the brim but you couldn't bring yourself to mention it, reveling in her warmth against your back. As if she read your mind, she whispered a final note before leaning forward and pressing her lips to your cheek. "Need help?"

You smiled, turning to face your girlfriend fully and repaying her with a kiss to the plush of her lips. "Please."

She nodded and you handed her the dishtowel from beside the sink, worn from all the mornings you spent together, just like this one. You almost couldn't remember what it was like to live without her, as if she'd been yours forever.

If there are soulmates in this world, Jiu would be yours. And if not, you'd still believe that she was. Even if that made you a fool.

You didn't miss the way she fluttered about the kitchen, putting all the dishes right where they belonged, almost like she knew your house better than you. And maybe she did - the two of you spent all your time there together, though it never felt like enough, what with your heavy workload and her schedule as an idol.

And when you did have free time, you spent it catching up on your chores, and Jiu being the sweetheart that she is, tried her best to help despite her long schedules and tired eyes.

That's not to say you two didn't ever go out. You'd come home sometimes to the sight of her sitting on your couch, dressed prettier than ever in a flowy evening gown and dangling earrings. "10 minutes", she'd giggle and pull you into your room to dress you like royalty for whatever fancy dinner or expensive evening she had planned.

Still, you think you liked the rainy evenings better. She'd sit on the terrace and you'd lean against the rail, talking about everything and nothing over a cup of instant coffee. Even better were the nights she slept over and the mornings you woke up before her. The sliver of light peeping through the blinds casting over her face and leaving you in awe over the angel in your bed, fast asleep beneath the covers.

"What are you thinking about?" Jiu mused beside you.

You turned to face her, the prettiest brown eyes you'd ever seen looking right into your soul and you couldn't bring yourself to lie. "You."

"Ooh," she teased, poking your side with her finger. "What about me, hm?"

"Oh you know, I was just thinking..." You took a step forward, face an inch from her own and when she closed her eyes and leaned in, you laughed. "How good those oranges you peeled look."

You took half a step back and watched as her brows creased and her eyes fluttered open. Her hands landed on her hips and you were quick to lunge for the bowl of freshly peeled oranges but she was quicker, snatching the container from your fingers and dashing to the other side of the room. "Nuh uh, no oranges for a tease."

"Baby," you whined and you saw her facade falter. "Please."

She pursed her lips before sticking her nose in the air. "Your puppy dog eyes won't work on me this time."

"You're mean." You slowly inched towards her and she noticed, holding the bowl closer to her chest. "Ahem, I mean... Minji, my beautiful, sweet, loving girlfriend, could I pretty please have one of your delicious oranges."

She was keen to your ploy, narrowing her eyes and pressing an orange slice to her own tongue. "Nuh uh."

"With cherries on top?"

"Nope, I peeled them so I make the rules. And the rules are: no kisses for me, no oranges for you."

"Since when?"

She shrugged before popping another slice in her mouth. "Since now."

You grumbled under your breath before diving for the bowl; though she was quicker and with a laugh, she twirled effortlessly around your incoming form.

Spinning on your heel, you shouted an indignant, "That's not fai-"

The plush of her lips over yours cut you short, tart orange and lingering maple touching your tongue, and you found yourself melting into the kiss. And you couldn't help but grin when you realized you had the rest of the day to drive Jiu crazy, and a carton of chocolate ice cream in the freezer.

[terrm9]

7 for E&C lovely Terr ♥️

thank you so much for this! <3

Prompt: Dancing together, one of them takes other's hand and kisses it

Each Careful Step (e & c)

WC: 700, rating: G

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff. Very soft, no plot just feelings

Author's note: look what I've got! Just something very tiny and soft, which is exactly something I wanted to give to Ethan and Chiara after my hiatus. Hope you enjoy!

***

The room is dark, save for the soft light dancing on the walls – abstract shadows created by a candle blow.

Chiara doesn’t expect Ethan’s offered hand shortly after he wakes up from his nap (a nap he didn’t expect, either), doesn’t expect it when he starts the old gramophone – barely registers the music as she celebrates her sudoku victory.

Doesn’t quite understand the offer at first, somewhat surprised by Ethan’s presence in front of her when it comes. She raises an eyebrow, a silent question-

(it’s one of their silent evenings, calm and peaceful and after the day they have both had – silent)

-what is it?, and Ethan just nods toward the player and smiles with that barely-there smile, small and somehow exhausted – but mostly soft. Tender and loving.

Standing up from her chair, she takes the hand and follows him in the middle of the living room, lets him hug her waist with his free hand and puts her own on his shoulder in return.

The room is still dark when they take their first steps.

She isn’t familiar with the song, but she can say that it’s old, older than Chiara herself and she could tease Ethan about it (it would not be uncommon, after all).

When she looks up at him, though, his eyes half closed and lips sligthly parted as he hums the unknown melody, cheekbones sharp in the candlelight and hair messy from the nap on a couch, he looks otherworldly, so ethereally peaceful and how could she ever tease that?

I love you so much, she thinks or maybe she whispers (too quietly for him to hear) and it still shocks her, the power those words - those feelings - hold over her, that even though she knows she loves him, has known for a long time, it still makes the strings in her chest tilt off their axis.

Her hand in his is almost funnily small and the gentlessnes he holds it with makes Chiara feel precious, as precious as the humming, as the old song, as their slow swaying to the rhytm. Life, precious.

Life with Ethan, so fucking precious.

There are days, or moments like this one, when it overwhelms her. Hits her like a tidal wave and makes a mess inside of her, turmoil of all those feelings she’d never felt before, all that love and mad respect and simple sheer adoration she feels for him and knows he feels for her just as strongly.

It overwhelms her so much it squeezes her chest for a while. And then, there’s calm. All that’s making the inside of her chest a mess starts making it a calm water.

Tidal wave turned into a soft ripple.

Chiara pulls their intertwined hands closer and untangles her fingers from his, takes his hand (still – always – funnily big compared to hers) and presses a kiss into his palm. Soft and warm and lingering kiss and she needs to close her eyes because the tidal wave is coming.

(She doesn’t see him and yet she knows Ethan closed his eyes, too.)

Turns his hand and kisses his knuckles next – just as softly and as warmly (and she is a mess).

And then-

-she tangles their hands back together and finds the correct rhytm again, eyes still closed and breathing through her nose-

-she looks up at him.

Finds him looking down at her already.

And then-

-they stare into each other’s eyes for what could be hours – how could they know when the room is still dark?-

-then, there’s calm.

She smiles softly up at him. I love you.

Ethan nods. And I you.

Her smile grows wider, subtly turning into that significant grin she wears so often. We’ve got this.

That small (exhasuted, yes), tender smile fights its way on Ethan’s face, too. We’ve got everything.

The song changes into another one, foreign to Chiara again and they keep dancing.

Ethan kisses the top of her head in return.

And they still keep swaying. Keep sharing those small, secret smiles – a language they have developed over the years, the one that lets them speak on evenings like this, when the words are too exhausting to be shared.

A new song plays.

Yes, they’ve got everything.

[tsukishumai]

Prompt 21 with mattsun🥰🥰

Hi babes thanks for requesting! I’m sorry this took so long, I hope u like :)

Also u didn’t specify which list u wanted so I hope u don’t mind I picked from general!

21. It’s not my choice

Word Count: 700+

Matsukawa Issei had a soft spot in his heart for autumn. The weather teetered between warm and cool, and he enjoyed the way the leaves rained down from above, painting the wind in shades of burnt orange and light brown. He listened to the way the branches rustled against the cool breeze, as if singing a song that only the earth could understand.  Two birds emerged from the foliage, chirping loudly as Matsukawa’s eyes followed their trail through the air.

“Issei!”

“Huh?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the feathered dots that were now disappearing into the horizon.

“You’re not paying attention,” you grumble, jabbing an elbow into his side and earning you a soft yelp from the wavy-haired middle blocker. He turns to look at you, your hair tousled by the gusts of air that swirled around, nose tinged red by the cold, and he’s reminded of yet another reason why he likes autumn.

“You look cute,” he mentions, ignoring your question, and opting instead to lazily throw an arm around you. His hand dangled from your shoulder, pulling you closer into him as the two of you continued your walk home. You roll your eyes at his comment, and he just pulls you in tighter.

“Who are you rolling your eyes at, huh?” He asks, nuzzling his face into your neck. The action elicits a giggle from your lips, but still you bring your hands up to shove him off of you, causing him to stumble a little at his feet.

Matsukawa let out a soft chuckle, waiting for the snarky comment that usually follows one of his quips, but you said nothing as you continued to trudge along beside him.

Autumn also meant that days were shorter, and it gave Matsukawa an opportunity to see the way you looked bathed under the glow of the golden hour. You glittered under the filter of the sun, specks of gold peppered along the sea of your skin and Matsukawa forgets how to breathe. His eyes averted down to your lips, noting the way you chewed the bottom one between your teeth.

“Something on your mind?”

You flinch at his words, turning to look at him with nervousness and trepidation in your eyes.

“Why do you like me?”

Matsukawa wanted to laugh. He hummed at your question, though he didn’t have to think about his answer. He wonders if you had any idea how his entire body tingles with excitement whenever you laughed at your own stupid jokes. He hopes it’s not obvious just how much his stomach flutters when you spew out random facts and correct his grammar. He should probably tell you that his heart skips a beat just from the brush of your fingertips against his, but instead he shrugs his shoulders.

“Beats me,” he teases, “it’s not my choice.”

He fights a smile at the way your jaw drops, giving him a dubious look.

“What do you mean it’s not your choice,” you sputter out, “then whose choice is it?!”

Matsukawa waves his hand in the air. “I don’t know. The gods of destiny or something?”

He knows that wasn’t the answer you wanted to hear, but at the moment he’s resisting the urge to pinch your puffed up cheeks. You cross your arms, stomping your feet as you quickened your pace to walk ahead of him.

“Well, you can go and tell the gods of destiny that they can kiss my big, fat a-“

Matsukawa’s full on laughing now, grabbing your arm and spinning you back into his arms. He puts your arms around his neck before snaking his own around your waist.

“Besides, I don’t like you,” he started with a smirk on his lips, “I love you. And I’m going to keep making the choice to love you, every single day.”

The bratty pout on your face began to melt away, feeding the growing grin that was soon to be plastered in Matsukawa’s. He placed a kiss on either of your cheeks, leaving a sensation of heat in the absence of his lips.

“Now, can you quit picking a fight, so we can enjoy this walk home? The weather today is amazing.”

Matsukawa felt lightheaded at the sound of your scintillating laughter, letting you tangle your fingers with his and tug him along down the beaten path.

[detectivesofty]

home is where the heart is | j.h.

Summary: the heart wants what it wants, even if it’s over 700 miles away

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: sofia by clairo

Author’s Note: this has been in the works for SO LONG, so I really hope that you like it! Reblog/like if you do! Sorry this is slightly late, I was drawing and forgot the time

Warnings: slightly spicy? mention of character death, cursing

Word Count: 4,8k

You looked out of the window as the cab driver cruised through Chicago. You just landed at O’Hare an hour ago and immediately hailed a cab to see your brother. It was hard to keep in touch with him living in Chicago and you in New York, but the two of you tried your best, especially in emergencies. Like this. The moment you heard about Anna’s death, you took the next flight out, barely having packed anything. Your brother needed you. 

“Thanks!” you told the driver, handing him his money and grabbing your bag before you headed up to Kelly’s loft. Unlocking the door with your key, you felt an overwhelming sadness overtaking you, accompanied by cold and silence. 

“Kelly…?” you called out softly, shutting the door behind you. 

“In here.”

You followed his voice to what you guessed was the bedroom and there he was, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you said softly, dropping your bag and sitting down next to him. “I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry Kelly.” You wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, tears streaking his face. 

For a while, you just held him, not knowing what to say. Oftentimes, grieving people didn’t want to hear empty apologies and ‘it’s going to get better’, they just needed someone to hold them.

“Thanks for coming. I know you’re really busy with work right now and I just… Thanks,” Kelly sniffed out and you held him tightly. 

“Hey. No matter how much work I got, if you need me. I am here, Kels. You’re my brother.”

Kelly gave you a water smile and wiped his tears away. “Anna really would’ve liked you. I wish I had introduced you two instead of Benny.”

“Yeah, what were you thinking?” you teased and he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Tell me about her.” 

You and Kelly spent the next few hours talking, catching up. He told you about Anna and you told him about your job and how you wanted to work your way up. Kelly was in the middle of telling you the story of how he and Anna set out at 2 am to get a cheeseburger from Le Chevals, when your stomach growled loudly. 

“I am so sorry,” you said and Kelly laughed. “I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

He frowned at you, pulling you up. “Jesus Y/N, you need to take care of yourself. Come on, let’s go get some food.”

“But only if we get deep dish pizza!” 

“I wasn’t aware that you eat anything else.”

A couple of minutes later, you were at Sal’s pizza place, waiting for your order while scrolling through your phone, when someone called your name.

“Y/N?”

Looking up, you saw Jay Halstead walking towards you with a big smile. 

“Detective Halstead, fancy seeing you here,” you said with a teasing tone in your voice and he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug. 

“Thought it was you. You didn’t tell me you were in town.”

Your smile dropped a bit, nodding. “Yeah, I am here for Kelly.”

“I heard. I am really sorry, Y/N,” Jay told you, squeezing your shoulder gently and you smiled at him.

“Thanks, Jay.”

The radio in Jay’s hand crackled to life and he stilled for a moment, before looking back at you. “Hey, I need to get back to the district, we’re on a case right now. But we should get a drink. How long you in town for?”

“I am not sure yet, but I will let you know,” you told him and he pointed at you. 

“I will hold you to that,” he pressed a quick kiss on your cheek, before he rushed out the door, leaving you standing still on the spot, holding your cheek. 

Did he just-?

“Order number 57!”

Quickly, you shook out your head and walked to the counter to pick up your order, before going outside, where headlights immediately blinded your eyes. Squinting them, you walked closer to the car and got in. 

“Did you have to blind me with the headlights?” you asked your brother, buckling up as he started the drive home.

Kelly chuckled. “Do you want me to honk next time?”

“Forget it,” you snorted, shaking your head. You drove in silence for a while before you spoke up again, hesitantly. “So… I ran into Jay.”

“Oh, you did huh?” Kelly asked, a smirk on his face and you punched his shoulder. 

“Shut up! I am never telling you anything ever again.”

Kelly snorted, rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t be so dramatic. Besides, you didn’t have to tell me anything. You always have the same look on your face after you’ve run into Jay.”

Jay and you had a… Complicated history, if one would put a name to it. You met two years ago, at an unofficial first responders picnic that Antonio and Gabby planned. It was just a coincidence that you were in Chicago that week and Kelly brought you along. There you had bumped into Jay and immediately took a liking to him. I mean, he was  part of a highly respected police unit and basically the definition of tall, dark and handsome,  what was not to like?

Jay asked you out on a date and you basically spent the rest of your time with him, but your stay in Chicago eventually came to an end. You were adults and you knew that long distance relationships were destined to fail, so you parted as friends. But every time you found your way to Chicago, you also somehow found your way back to Jay, which probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

Except for the last time you’ve seen him.

Last you’ve heard, Jay and Erin started dating and you took that as a sign from the universe, telling you that you and Jay weren’t meant to be. While it still hurt to catch his eyes across the bar during nights out with everyone, you knew this was for the best. For both of you. 

Jay got to be happy with someone who doesn’t live in another city and you were forced to move on. The goodbye didn’t hurt as much that time, so you knew it was the right choice, because all the other times made you feel like you’ve left your heart in Chicago.

While it was easy to forget about Jay in New York, it was that much harder every time you visited Kelly. Back here, everything reminded you of Jay.

The park where he used to take you for picnics; the italian restaurant where you had your first date; the entrance of the hotel where he kissed you for the first time. It was like you couldn’t erase him out of your head. Sure, it helped knowing that Jay was in a happy relationship with someone else, but it still hurt. Now, you felt confident enough to start being friends with him again. 

Or so you thought.

A couple of days later and Kelly was doing better. You did a lot of home cooking, like this night and then the two of you lounged on the couch with the tv running in the background when your phone rang. One look at the screen had Kelly wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“Jay?”

“Hi Y/N. Can you talk?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you got up and walked to the window, holding your phone to your ear. 

“Yeah, hey. I can talk. What’s up?”

“My case is over. Do you want to go grab that drink right now?”

“A drink? Right now? I don’t know Jay. I came here to take care of my brother and-” You frowned, looking at Kelly who nodded vigorously, giving you a double thumbs up.

“Go! I’ll be fine!” he whisper-yelled and you rolled your eyes at him, turning away. 

“Actually, yeah. I am down. Meet me at Molly’s in ten?” 

“Yep. See you in ten.”

You hung up the phone and glared at Kelly, picking up a pillow to throw it at him. He ducked with a laugh. “What? I was wingmanning you!”

“You weren’t doing shit. Stop laughing at me and call me a cab!” You grumbled, walking towards the guest bedroom. Still hearing Kelly’s laughter from the living room, you rummaged through your bag. While you were still annoyed at him for laughing at you, you were glad that he was feeling better.

But right now, you had to focus on making yourself look better. So you tamed your messy hair, picked out a nice sweater and put some make-up on. You then stumbled out of the room, while simultaneously trying to put on your boots. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Kelly called over his shoulder before you left, but you only yelled an “I love you!” back. You got in the cab that was already waiting by the curb and after a quick drive, you got out at Molly’s. Judging from the loud voices coming from inside, which only amplified when you opened the door, it was pretty full, though you immediately spotted Jay when you walked in. 

He was waiting with two drinks by a corner table, raising his hand with an easy smile when he saw you. He got up from his bar stool to give you a hug and you relished being in his arms again, before you pulled away. 

“It’s good to see you,” he told you, sitting down across from you. “Do you still drink vodka cranberries?” Jay asked and slid  one of the glasses in front of him towards you. 

You gave him a suspicious look and wrapped your hands around the cold glass. “Are you planning on getting me drunk, Jay?”

“What? I wouldn’t do that.” 

Jay grinned at you and clinked his beer bottle against your glass. “So,” he said after taking a sip from his beer. “How have you been?”

“You know me. Same old, same old.”

If you were honest, being an event manager wasn’t even half as exciting as Kelly or Jay’s job, but you loved it nonetheless. And the business was booming in New York. Your agency is getting calls everyday, which is to be expected in a city that never sleeps.

“So I managed to get a deal with the brother and in the end everyone was happy,” you concluded, drinking your vodka cranberry. 

“Huh. That reminded me of a hostage situation we had a couple of weeks ago.”

You cracked a laugh and shook your head at him. “Don’t be silly. Now, how have you been?” you asked, biting your lip as you paused. This was the question you dreaded to ask. To hear about how happy he was with someone else. But you wanted him to be happy. And you were an adult. So you asked.

“How’s Erin?”

“We broke up,” Jay blurted out, as if he had waited for that question. He flushed and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, we broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh. I am sorry to hear that,” you said, genuinely. You liked Erin. She was tough, smart and incredibly beautiful. She was good for Jay. 

He shook his head with a small smile. “Don’t be. We parted as friends. It was better that way, trust me… What about you? Is there anyone in your life?”

“No, not really. Between work and constantly trying to get to Chicago it’s hard to find someone who can keep up with my life, you know?” You knew who that someone was, who you wanted it to be. But how realistic was that?

You and Jay were so deep into your conversation, that you didn’t even notice the bar empty out and late it had gotten, until you glanced at your watch, your eyes widening. Looking around, you saw that there were only four people left in the bar, including you and Jay.

“It’s pretty late, huh?” Jay commented and you nodded, pursing your lips. 

“It is. I should go home.”

“Or,” Jay cut in, reaching out to take your hand as if he was scared you’d jump up and leave. “You could come back to my place? Maybe get a coffee?”

It was nearing one in the morning, Jay wasn’t being smooth by inviting you over for a coffee.

Jay knew he wasn’t talking about coffee.

You knew he wasn’t talking about coffee. 

Hell, the homeless guy across the street knew he wasn’t talking about coffee.

And you promised yourself you wouldn’t let this happen again, because it was only going to hurt when you left. But yet-

“Yeah, a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt.”

So the two of you more or less stumbled out of the bar and hailed a cab to Jay’s place. The drive there was laced with anticipation as you sat close to each other, talking with low voices. When you finally reached Jay’s apartment building, he tipped the cab driver generously and with an arm wrapped around your waist, Jay led you up to his apartment. 

You haven’t been to this one yet, so naturally you looked around curiously after he’s unlocked the door, letting your jacket drop from your shoulders. It was painfully obvious that Jay had decorated it by himself, but it was still homey.

“So, where do you keep-” you asked, turning around to face him but Jay swiftly backed you up against the wall, caging you in with his (muscular!) arms. He was so close, you could feel his breath fanning against your cheeks and you gulped, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he said lowly before he dipped his head down to press a searing kiss on your lips. And now you remembered why you always went back to Jay even though you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t.

The way he kissed you, touched you. It always made you feel like you’re the only girl in the world. You sighed softly against his lips and kissed him back, your arms winding around his neck. While you felt the anticipation drumming in his body by the quick beats of his heart, he didn’t show that during the kiss and instead took his sweet time reacquainting himself with your body. His hand slipped beneath your blouse, his fingers still cold from outside and you shivered, reflexively biting down on his lower lip a bit. 

“Maybe a coffee wouldn’t be a bad idea right now,” you breathed out and he stilled, giving you a look. 

“If you’re still thinking about coffee right now I am definitely doing something wrong.”

A smirk curled on your lips and you shrugged nonchalantly, playing with the hair in the nape of his neck. You knew you were playing with fire, but you weren’t going to back down now. Jay let out a deep chuckle, pulling his arms back. 

“Guess I have to up my game, huh?” he hummed before he dropped down to his knees and from then on, coffee wasn’t on your mind once. It certainly was the next morning, though.

Pulling a face, you turned over in your bed when the sun almost blinded you, even through your closed lids. You paused when you were unable to turn over and it was then that you registered the strong hold around your waist. The thoughts in your head were whirring before last night came back to you and you silently groaned into your pillow, cursing your past self. You got weak.

You laid still, debating your options while at the same time relishing being held by Jay for the last time, because you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t get weak again. Sneaking out was off the table. Jay was a really light sleeper, due to his service in Afghanistan and you didn’t want to risk a confrontation right now. You knew your time to make a decision was over when Jay tightened his hold around your waist, groaning quietly. 

“I can literally hear you thinking, Y/N,” he grumbled, his voice still raspy from sleep. “Can you maybe wait until like,” Jay lifted his head to glance at the clock, “After ten? I had an exhausting night.”

He let his head fall back on the pillow and you snorted only whacking his forehead playfully. “You’re an idiot.”

“You still love me,” Jay mused with a small smile as he glanced at you and your resolve wavered, almost wanting to give in and enjoy your time with Jay. You weren’t sure what to respond to that. At one point, you were sure that you were in love with Jay. But with the distance between New York and Chicago and his relationship with Erin, you weren’t sure where you stood with him. 

Luckily, he himself saved you from having to come up with a reply when he rubbed his eyes. “We should get some food. I’ll grab us some coffee and breakfast from the cafe across the street, hm?”

“Yeah that sounds nice.”

“Awesome. You just stay in bed, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” Jay told you, getting out of bed to pull on some jeans and a sweater. He disappeared into the bathroom and you heard the toilet flushing, before the water ran. 

“Are you sure?” you called out meekly, scanning the room for your clothes, which were scattered all throughout the bedroom. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Jay leaned his head out of the bathroom, the toothbrush still hanging from his lips. “No, it’s fine, I’ll be quick.” He disappeared back into the bathroom for a bit before he returned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, which left a hint of mint. 

“See you in a bit!” Jay called out before you heard the front door shut behind him. 

It was now or never.

Half-heartedly, you got out of the bed and started picking your clothes up, putting everything on. You felt like an asshole leaving like this, but you knew if you stayed for breakfast, you wouldn’t be strong to leave. It had to be now. Leaving the bedroom, you grabbed your jacket off of the floor and your purse, which was laid across the couch. Slipping into your shoes and turning to the door, your heart felt heavy in your chest. Rubbing your eyes, you turned the doorknob and immediately bumped into Jay.

Fuck.

“Oh hey, I forgot my wallet,” Jay laughed, looking you up and down before his smile turned into a frown, his eyebrows furrowing. “Are you… Leaving?”

Your eyes were wide and you exhaled slowly, before nodding. 

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” you burst out, running your hand through your hair out of frustration. “Are you expecting me to just stay with you and act like everything’s fine just to pack up my stuff and leave for New York in a couple of days?”

“I- That’s better than just fucking leaving!” 

“But I am always leaving, Jay!” 

Tears sprang into your eyes and his eyes widened slightly. 

“I am always fucking leaving and it hurts. I can’t keep doing this over and over again.”

“Then don’t leave!” Jay exclaimed. “Why don’t you stay in Chicago? Kelly is here, all your friends are here… I’m here.”

“So you expect me to uproot my whole life in New York and move here just because I love you?” 

You reeled back at your sudden confession and your hand flew to your mouth, to prevent any more to come out.

Fuck, wait. I take that back!

Jay’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he looked speechless for a moment. “... You love me?”

Your thoughts were racing and this morning has already gone all kinds of wrong. “Just… Forget it,” you sniffed, pushing past him and walking off in quick strides, trying to block out his voice as he called for you. 

After you’ve successfully hailed a cab back to Kelly’s place, your brother looked up at you with a grin on his face when you slid the door open, no doubt about to fire off a dumb joke how you’ve stayed, but his face immediately droppen when he took you in. 

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kelly nodded in understanding and you disappeared into the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Even though it was barely noon, you felt drained and empty as if you had a long day of work behind you. With a deep sigh, you sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged your laptop close to you, determined to do what was best for you. 

A short time later, you emerged from the bedroom with your suitcase in tow, your purse slung over your shoulder. Kelly gave you a sad smile when he saw you, putting the pieces together.

 “You headed out?”

You gave a short nod, your shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I hope you’re okay with that. I know I am supposed to be here for you but-”

“No buts. You being here is supposed to be good for both of us,” Kelly interrupted you, jumping over his couch to grab you by the shoulders gently. “You already helped me a lot, Y/N. If you need to go home, then I will give you a ride to the airport.”

With a small smile, you gave Kelly a tight hug, though you weren’t sure if he was right. If you were going home. Or if you were leaving it. But being back in New York felt like a fresh start. You immediately threw yourself back to work, which took your mind off of things. Due to your personal days you took, you had to catch up with a lot of clients and while it was really stressful, it was welcomed. Coming home to an empty apartment every night kept ripping open wounds though and there was only one way to change that, though you weren’t sure if you were bold enough to do it. The countless phone calls from Jay you kept denying weren’t helping either. But you weren’t ready to talk to him. Not yet.

“Hi Mrs. Porter, it’s Y/N Y/L/N. I just received a call from Mangia NYC, and they unfortunately won’t be able to cater the event,” you spoke into the phone as you exited your office, phone in your hand, “However, Bartleby & Sage are free and they are willing to do it for half the price, do you want me to book them?” 

You pressed the phone closer to your ear as the noise of the traffic almost drowned Mrs. Porter on the other line and you tried your best to focus on her voice. Even though you were already off the clock, you wanted to get a hold of Mrs. Porter first, before you could relax for the night. Rummaging in your bag for your tablet as Mrs. Porter agreed to your suggested caterer, you held the phone with your shoulder, dotting down the name of the caterer into the tablet. 

“Okay, that’s great. Seems like everything is taken care off now and-” you nearly stumbled over your own feet when you saw Jay leaning against a street lamp a couple of feet away from you. His hands were in the pockets of his jackets and while New York wasn’t as cold as Chicago, it was still freezing so there was a small woolen hat atop of his head. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you quickly said, snapping out of it and reverting your focus back to Mrs. Porter. “Uhm. My colleague will go over everything again in the morning and then they’ll get back to you. Have a nice evening, bye.”

You hung up and peered over to Jay, cautiously walking over to him. It was weird to see him here, after your last encounter ended rather badly and you’ve dodged all of his phone calls. 

“Hi Jay,” you greeted him carefully, giving him a small smile. 

“Hey,” he hummed, half his face hidden by his jacket. “Can we talk?”

After a short pause, you nodded. “Yeah sure, let’s go back to my place.”

The walk to your apartment was quite tense, filled with awkward fillers and smalltalk. You sighed internally when you reached your apartment building and let Jay and yourself in, leading him to your apartment on the second floor. Taking your jacket off and putting your purse to its designated spot, you turned to Jay. 

“Do you want a drink?”

“Water would be great, thanks,” he replied, looking around your apartment. It was his first time here and you left him to explore to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. Returning to the living room with two water bottles, you saw that Jay was looking at a framed picture of the two of you that was standing on a dresser. You probably should’ve put that away, but you didn’t have the heart to do it.

“Here’s your water,” you said awkwardly and Jay put down the frame quickly, accepting the water bottle.

“Thanks.”

Sitting down on the couch, while fingering the label of the water bottle you glanced at him, pressing your lips together. “When did you get in?”

“Just a couple of hours ago. I had a job interview and Kelly gave me the address of your office, so I swung by afterwards,” he told you and you nodded, before pausing when you processed the information. 

“You had a job interview?”

Jay nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, before he took a seat on the couch next to you. He seemed nervous and you could see that he was trying to find the right words. Your heart was racing and you tried to calm down, to no avail. 

“You were right. It wasn’t fair of me to assume that it would be easy for you to just move to Chicago,” he started, lowering his gaze. “I know that it must’ve been hard always coming and leaving, especially with Kelly and all of our friends. I haven’t been thinking about your life, your home, here in New York and that was selfish of me.”

“Jay-” you started, but he shook his head, holding a hand up. 

“Please just let me finish?”

Holding your breath, you nodded, so he could continue.

“I’ve just been thinking of how you left me, and Kelly and how much easier things would be for us if you’d just stay in Chicago.”

Us?

“I think I was taking you for granted and I don’t want to do that anymore. Which is why I am transferring to the NYPD.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of the sockets when you heard his words and you were speechless for a moment, not knowing where to start. 

“You can’t transfer to the NYPD!” you protested. “Your life in Chicago is so good right now, you’re in the freaking Intelligence Unit, you yourself said that it was your dream job, why would you just give that up to be here with me?”

“Because you’re my future, Y/N,” Jay confessed quietly. “I love you.”

Blinking, it took you a moment to process this, before you lunged at him, hitting his chest with your fists.

“Y/N, what-?”

“I can’t believe you would do this!” you sniffed, leaning your forehead against his chest and his heart was beating just as fast as yours. “I can’t believe you’d leave Chicago for me. You love Chicago.”

Jay chuckled, wrapping his arms around after having dropped the water bottle on the couch. “I do. But I might love you a tad bit more.”

“Stop it,” you huffed, pushing at his chest. You sat up so you could level him with a glare. “I am not letting you do this. You’d regret it.”

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I am sure that I want to do it.”

“What if I told you that my firm is looking to open a branch in Chicago and my boss wants me to take one of the leading positions?”

“I- what?” Jay looked at you in surprise, his mouth agape. “You’re moving to Chicago?”

You nodded with a smile and he let out a laugh, tackling you in a hug. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you. You should’ve told me!”

“You literally told me not to talk, Jay. I didn’t have a chance to tell you.”

Jay rolled his eyes at you fondly and held you close, pressing a kiss on your head. After a while of just holding each other, with everything finally falling into place, he spoke up again. 

“So you’d need to find a place to live huh?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me to move in with you? You do realize we haven’t even been officially dating, right?”

“Okay, this?” Jay said, pointing between the two of you, “has been going on for the past four years and you know that.”

“Don’t be silly. Fine, I’ll think about it,” you conceded and he grinned at you, leaning in to give you a soft kiss. 

“That’s all I ask.”

🏷️ list: @shipshipshipau​ // @savvywords​ // @samantha-chicago​

[thesimperiuscurse]

THE CHALLENGE — show a certain part of your story process based on you being tagged by other creators. 

Thank you @herpixels for tagging me in your wonderful challenge! Here’s a behind-the-scenes essay for En Pointe ❤

WRITING PROCESS — show us a part of your script or explain how you write your scenes. do you write in screenplay format or novel format?

I write in novel format, and have a very methodical process. I have a Planning Notebook which covers all the general elements of the story; cast list + descriptions, main plot, themes, overviews of all chapters, timeline, world + settings information, research links, and a massive section with all my notes on relationships, character styles, history, writing goals, arcs, and most crucially, what to avoid from the absolute fucking mess of Fallen Angels. 

At the smaller scale, before writing, I plan out each chapter in my Chapter Workbook. First is the Outline, which is a synopsis of the main events. Going off that, I write a list of Chapter Shots which describes in writing all the pictures; what kind of shot it is (long, over-the-shoulder, etc), the location + atmosphere, and what the characters are doing. Corresponding to these I list the Poses, for each character and what expression they have. I then write a To Do List for what sets to build, new sims to make, number of poses to create, the cc I have to find or make. The final section is Details, which notes down all the little things I have to remember; running gags, nuances, and themes; current state of relationships and character arcs to keep track of their development; what my aims are for character perceptions + issues I need to fix from the last chapter. This section is super important to make sure the story unfolds smoothly and revelations make sense, or else I get something abrupt like Mako x Raven, because I didn’t foreshadow clearly or early enough in advance. Here are snippets of what this looks like:

Once I finish all this planning (the current word count of the two documents is 20k lmfao), then I begin writing. It’s a lot less structured because I just start with the most exciting scenes or ones I’ve been thinking about for a while. I organise the paragraphs according to the Chapter Shots. A bit of light editing then the writing is ready to publish! 

SCENE BUILDING — show us you in the middle of scene building through pictures, gifs, or a video. explain what is the best thing about scene building and what is the worst!

I dislike scene building because TS3′s weak ass makes everything so tedious. I have a Pinterest board to inspire the settings. The worst part is definitely when the game moves at 0.001 m/s and crashes, which happens far too often and pisses me off. Here’s a screenshot I accidentally took when setting up the big family dinner scene in Chapter 8. I tried my best to minimise the amount of sims that were actually there because I take shortcuts whenever possible. Crowd scenes suck. 

CC + POSE MAKING — do you make your own cc/poses for your scene? If so, what is your process like to create? do you just go off the top of your head? do you use reference photos?

I make all the poses that aren’t singular and ‘normal’, due to height differences and also so I can achieve my exact vision. Depending on the length of the chapter, this can range from 20-50 poses, which is looking to be around 700 poses by the story finale. I try to find reference photos (essential for ballet poses) when I can to make them look natural. I also convert or mesh clothing + objects, but I’m lazy so I often cheat with Photoshop. 

GETTING IN THE ZONE — what do you do to get in the zone to work on a scene? examples include: show us your playlist you use when working on a scene, what’s your go-to scene snack/drink, etc.

I don’t actually have anything for this. If I don’t feel like doing a particular task on the To Do List I just try something else. Sometimes I listen to Eva and Mako’s playlists when working though, and there are certain songs I associate with certain parts of the story which help me when I’m thinking of them. 

SCREENSHOT FOLDER — give us a look into your screenshot folder to show us just how much goes into one scene for your story. scrapped pictures encouraged!

I also have a linear method for pictures. Firstly, I create the poses, and test them in a blank background, which is when I figure out the most flattering angles, and edit the poses if needed. After that I begin series of test shots in the actual set, redoing up to three times until it looks passable. Since I use natural light almost every shot has a double (or even triple), with outdoor lighting for the environment and controlled interior lighting for the sims, which is then spliced together along with other atmospheric editing. There’s a lot of screenshots to ‘build’ the final visual but I rarely have alternative or scrapped finals because that would be a terrible waste of time. Why do I do this ridiculously tedious process? Because I’m stupid. 

CAPTIONS — are you a caption on the picture kind of storyteller or captions in text box type of storyteller? why? do you do both?

I don’t do caption format, because for me, it removes lots of detail and nuance. Long prose means my audience is much smaller, but I wouldn’t be able to convey half the things just by still visuals and dialogue. As you might be able to tell from the aforementioned question, picture taking is also just immensely tiring.

EDITING — explain and show us your process editing a scene through a video, gif, or picture. a before and after will suffice if you aren’t in the middle of editing a scene as you answer this.

Corresponding to the Screenshot Folder question:

I no longer rely on Reshade for post-processing, except for DOF, but even then I blur in editing. Lately I’ve been trying to create a more realistic, atmospheric look with strong DOF, bloom, motion blur, and smoothing out light + shadows with exposure brushes. 

THROWBACK — show us an ancient story scene you done in the past and explain how you would do the scene differently today!

You mean every scene I’ve ever done before En Pointe LOL If we’re talking ancient, I might as well go back to the very beginning of The Kingston Legacy, in 2015. It’s the classic legacy opening of the founder moving to a new town, with basic writing and terrible low-setting-no-cc pictures. I would do literally everything different. I can’t even begin to describe so here’s something to laugh at. 

I tag — @lazysunjade​ (watch her post it 1 second later) @amys-snapshots @notjustabooksims @simnights ❤ Please check the challenge post for the full and original format, and anyone else who wants to participate can also reblog it as an ask game!