#it's hard to figure out what characters to tag haha

[i-heart-hxh]

Hi again! I've had this thought in terms of hxh meta that I personally have not seen discussed, so I'm gonna dump it here for you! There's an underlying theme I've noticed of characters throughout the series being one that lost their other halves. Like, most obvious, Leorio and Kurapika lost their childhood best friends. Melody lost her friend to the devil's music. We see Nobunaga lose Uvogin, and so on. So Killua saving Gon instead of letting him die after CAA seems to be a "breaking the cycle" so to speak, although I'm not sure what that would even mean! Nothing much to say besides those details I've noticed, but I wanted to know if you had thoughts? Or perhaps it's just an interesting background detail that is up in the air in terms of being significant?

Hello, thank you so much for sending an ask again! I've put some thought into this topic as well, so I'm happy you brought this up! How I'm answering this is both somewhat abstract and far-reaching in the series so it's a little difficult to summarize and express simply, but I hope you and others might get some meaning out of it!

I strongly believe that one of HxH's great overarching themes is the transformational power of love and how it grants people second chances in life. In this post I'm referring to love in a broader sense, not just romantic love, as of course many different types of love are portrayed and have deep importance in HxH. We see the theme of transformative love in so many different relationships and instances that it's difficult to even summarize them--a few examples are Gon and Killua, Meruem and Komugi, Meruem and his Royal Guard, Ging and Kite, Killua and Ikalgo, even in less major character pairs like Ging and Razor (Razor: "Ging taught me it took only one person, one person in the entire world who will trust you, to save you.") and Kite and Koala, but that's only scraping the surface. I reblogged a previous wonderful meta that pointed out the domino effect of Killua's act of kindness towards Ikalgo, which ended up changing the ultimate trajectory of humanity's war against the Chimera Ants. This is a great example of this theme in action!

But of course, while meeting and loving someone can transform that person's whole life, so also can losing someone significant. It can set someone on a completely different life track than they would have been on had they not lost them--Kurapika, Leorio, Senritsu, the Phantom Troupe (especially with their flashback in recent chapters), Gon and Kite, Kacho and Fugetsu (though this hasn't played out all the way yet) come to mind, but there are many more throughout the series as well. Not all of the losses that fit into this are someone losing their other half/most important person, but there's a solid enough percentage that it certainly seems to be a trend Togashi is establishing and exploring.

It's difficult to explore one of these themes in depth and with honesty without the other--love happens, loss of loved ones happens, both are deeply transformative, and both can ultimately be placed under the broader umbrella of the transformative power of love. After all, if losing a person causes someone's entire life path to change, chances are they loved them a great deal and the force behind the change that occurs in their life is the love and grief they still feel after the loss.

HxH has many tragic elements and Togashi certainly doesn't shy away from the heart-wrenching and long-lasting results of loss, but I think it's fair to say from the 400 chapters we have so far that HxH's themes are not ultimately tragic and hopeless on this topic by any means. In HxH:

Death is not always insurmountable, i.e., Kite, the Chimera Ants in general

The life path one ends up on after a major loss need not be a tragic one, i.e. Leorio deciding to be a doctor and help children in poverty as a result of losing his friend

Death in itself can be an act of love, i.e. Meruem and Komugi, Netero and humanity

Even if one ends up on a dark path as a result of loss, that doesn't mean they can't be saved by someone else's love for them, i.e., Gon and Killua, this could also end up being the trajectory for Kurapika and Leorio potentially?

With Gon and Killua, their whole relationship is based on them transforming each other and giving each other second chances:

Gon saving Killua simply by not judging him, befriending him, and showing him another life path

Gon retrieving Killua from the Zoldyck family when Killua's resolve broke down because of Illumi

Killua pulling the needle of out of his head out of sheer love for and desire to protect Gon

And of course Killua not allowing Gon to die, simultaneously saving him and transforming Alluka's life.

(And Killua's ability to save and help Alluka is of course, a direct result of the kindness Gon extended to Killua and the love Killua has for Gon.)

There's no way to know for certain what will happen in their future, but I definitely think their relationship has one more transformation in it at least, in the form of a reunion and reconciliation.

So, in summary, I think these themes of someone losing a person who was their other half and how one continues to live after that are another way of exploring the broader theme of what it means to love someone and be transformed by meeting them, which I see as a primary theme of HxH. I also think some of these relationships are intended to be comparisons to or foils of Gon and Killua's relationship in a sense (especially Kurapika and Pairo and Kacho and Fugetsu, but others as well), expanding on the themes of their relationship and how a love that deep affects people, both in beautiful and in deeply painful ways.

[paimonial-rage]

For people that enjoy my bookkeeping!verse series, I am planning on editing and revamping all of my previous chapters and posting it to Ao3. I understand that it's difficult following chaptered works on Tumblr, so hopefully that'll make updates easier to follow. I'll let you all know when it gets uploaded. ;v;b

[ofallthingsnasty]

What about a himbo yandere he seems so nice and well stupid to be dangerous so you let your gaurd down surely he coudnt do any harm and meanwhile the dumb himbo is writing down plans to take you home and preparing his basement for you

omg I LOVE that this! Although the mental image of some random himbo cranking out some crayolas and trying his best to work out a proper plan to get me into his basement is hilarious to me 😂 This is so good omg thanks for gracing me with that thought! And requests are open!

word count: 1.1k tags: gn reader, yandere and everything it might entail, nsfw in those last few sentences, kidnapping, minors dni

The thing is: is he really scheming? He probably didn't even get the idea to turn you into his little basement spouse until he saw it in some movie. Up to that point, he just thought he was extremely overprotective of his crush - maybe with a little sprinkle of jealousy. Something really clicked when he watched some fictional character locking their love interest away to be able to protect them from all the harm in the world... What a brilliant idea! Watch him draw mindmaps and stick-figures on printing paper, fevershly trying to figure the logistics of his own little operation - and then giving up halfway through, haha. In general, it's confusing as all hell to him, all those big feelings. He can't stop thinking about you, how fragile and powerless you are in this big, dangerous world and just how much it'd break his heart if anything ever happened to you. You can probably see the cogs in his head turning while he’s trying to figure this out - he knows very well that he likes you, it’s just the unexpected intensity of it all that sometimes becomes too much for his brain. How does he cope with it? He’ll become overbearing - always happy to help, always texting you, just wants to be around you all the time. He’s so handsy, too. You are already accustomed to his big bear hugs for greetings, now get ready to get lifted up into the air and twirled around and squeezed as if you were to dematerialize the moment he doesn’t touch you. He keeps you close while you’re out and about, maneuvers you around with a hand around your waist and shoulders, just acts like your big, overprotective boyfriend in public. And you? You probably don’t even notice it because he’s always been one to go for physical touches - him being a bit more intense isn’t that noticeable, really. Absolutely develops some form of cute aggression. No matter your stature or your height, when he sees you his one goal is to protect and guard - his hugs are just a little too tight, his grip on your shoulder a smidge too hard, his face a bit to close and eyes too dark when you talk to him. You don’t think much of it when it happens, just chalk it up to his bulky frame and golden-retriever-like over-excitedness. Once he has you locked away, you’ll see all those little details in a different light. Especially how happy he gets when you voice your discomfort or squeak in surprise when his touch gets too bruising. Definitely the type to hit you up with random texts after midnight, just to know that you’re there, sends you the oldest memes during the day and badgers you if you don’t answer them within an hour. He’s quite pushy and there won’t be a day he doesn’t try to hear from you, doesn’t matter if it’s in person or via text. He isn’t quite the stalker type, though. Yes, he’ll make sure to hang around your favorite spots, the place you visit on the regular but he won’t try to watch you shower. Mainly because it doesn’t occur to him. If someone or something is giving you a hard time, be prepared for him to knock on your door half an hour later, with your favorite snack in hand - he’ll try to make you laugh, always. And if it’s someone specific, don’t be confused when you don’t see them in days - he had to be a little forceful with them to protect you, alright? But he’d never tell you that, you’re just too precious and would probably even worry about them! All in all, he’s quite unassuming as a yandere, mainly because you’re used to his (a bit too nice) antics. The actual logistics of getting you into his literal basement? Still blurry to him, he’s a man of the moment, after all. He’ll take the chances as they arise and it solely depends on you - are you a little bit of a party animal, get drunk often, call him at 4 am from some club to pick you up, because he’s just such a good friend and you know you can always count on him? Then a head-splitting migraine won’t be the only thing you’ll wake up to a few hours later. Or are you more of an introvert, happy to spend your weekends on your own but enjoy hanging out with him here and there? Then a movie night might just turn into something entirely different. He won’t plan these things out in minute detail - rather, he’ll have a rough idea of how to get you. He’ll get there when he’ll get there - and should you be able to spoil his plans, he’ll definitely play it of as nothing and wait for another try. But once he has you - oh boy, he’ll be happier than a kid on Christmas Day. All wide, sparkling eyes and flashing smiles while you try to comprehend the situation, probably in tears, struggling to free yourself from the restraints he put on you. He’s probably severly underprepared for the first couple of weeks. You won’t starve or be neglected but watch him not accounting for things like your period (if you can get one), benign little illnesses you might catch, or even that you’ll probably won’t be happy with this form of arrangement (because, hey, he thought you were friends? And you loved him, too? He was so sure you’d understand.) Still, he gives you plenty of time to adjust. There is no use in hurrying, after all. The cute aggression I mentioned beforehand would absolutely get worse once he has you in his grasp, too. He’s like a toddler with an unhappy cat - you can try to fight your way out of his strong arms all you want, he’ll just hold you tighter and tighter until your joints pop and the air gets squeezed out of your lungs. He just can’t believe he finally has you and the need to physically squeeze you until you get dizzy and his muscles hurt gets too much sometimes. And while he’s patient, he gets quite... overzealous at times. I can see him almost, almost nonconning you because he’s just so excited. Definitely the type to masturbate in front of you, even as you squirm around with tears in your eyes - he isn’t doing anything to you, isn’t laying a single finger on you, right? But you have to understand that he has needs, too. And that you’re too sweet not to indulge in from time to time... You’ll definitely wake up with your face full of dried cum more than once because you were just to cute to pass up while asleep. All in all, I’d say a true himbo yandere isn’t the worst to have - he is neither cruel nor sadistic, genuinely loves you and doesn’t really want to harm you - but his strength runs away from him sometimes, along with his common sense.

[painted-bees]

reading through your hinote tags it was interesting to learn that Raf still likes preforming and even misses playing large shows, but avoids getting sucked back into it. As an adult, you'd think he could just return to preforming on his own terms and play any stage he wants. Does a fear of success keeps him away from it? Sorry if this was already explained somewhere and I missed it.

Sssorta haha! He doesn't want to gain too much traction and attract media attention, because it'll inevitably liken his current career/his current self to his past...And almost none of the things he had said about himself, very few of the views he presented in interviews and such, none of it was really him, what he believed, what he liked, or how he, himself, wanted to be perceived. He likes playing the character on stage, but hates the notion of that character following him and being projected onto him in day to day life. On one hand, he doesn't want random people to see him and know him accurately--which is why the stage persona is so great. But on the other hand, the media personality his mother curated is too far removed from his own tastes and sensibilities, that it feels like an ill-fitting skin and makes him physically uncomfortable to be identified as and associated with it. Increased visibility as a performer would kinda force him to contend with that in a way he really would rather not. It's not worth it for him. AND he does not want to attract his family's attention. He doesn't want them contacting him about his career. He wants to be as tiny and invisible to them as possible.

Secondly, and more acutely, though--his symptoms after a show--any show--really suck. He gets nervous leading up to a performance, but it's usually perfectly manageable. He's normally in relatively good spirits about it. Then on stage, he gets a nice little thrill and the feeling of "man, yeah! I need to let myself do this more often!" But then, once the show is over, he's in the backstage bathroom vomiting, and spends the next week struggling to recover from a depressed hangover with 0 motivation, energy, or excitement for anything. He hasn't...figured out how to avoid this extremely consistent pattern. It's weird, because he feels fine during the performance, even if there's a break in between or some such. But as soon as it's properly over, the nerves hit him hard--and once the anxiety passes, he's just an exhausted, deflated, apathetic husk with a very, very low mood about it. That's what kinda keeps him off the stage, and prevents him from doing shows on any kind of consistent basis. He can only really commit to doing them if he's feeling really good about things--and if he can afford the inevitable "crash" week that always follows. If that were less of an ailment for him, he might be more inclined to at least humor the idea of reinventing his persona and returning to musical performance on a more serious/professional/consistent basis. Alas.

[nocturne-overtures]

𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

𓆩⟡𓆪Summary: You decide today's the day you try a bit of role reversal in the bedroom. It takes some...encouragement, but you don't think your boyfriends are opposed to trying a few new things if it feels this good

𓆩⟡𓆪Pairing: Fem! Reader/ Jackson Wang (Got7)/ Johnny Suh (NCT127)/Lee Jooheon (Monsta X)

𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Non-Idolverse, Fluff, Romance, Humor, Smut, Polyamorous Relationship

𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing, Light Anxieties

𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: Role Reversal, Switch Idol, Switch Reader, Hickies, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Teasing, Handjobs, Cunnilingus, Blowjob, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Creampie

𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)

𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 3.3k

𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: *crawls out of hell with an upload finally* the following is one of the commissions from the lovely and every paitient @jacksons-goddess-gaia I hope you enjoy it as I get back into the swing of things mwah

𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld | @k-vanity |⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪©nocturne-overtures. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

"They’ll never let me do something like this. I’m going walk in there and they’re gonna be like; ‘haha! Just kidding, bend over kitten.’”

Jooheon watched you pace back and forth in front of your shared home, puffs of vapor leaving his lips as the occasional snowflake fell into his hair. In his hand, a bag is steadily collecting a small pile of snow the longer you two stand outside in the chill of November. 

“For someone who challenged them to let you take charge this time, you're freaking out more than expected.” His voice is even, but you can see his lips twitch up as you whirl around to face him, indignant. 

“You’re supposed to have my side!” 

“Why? It’s not as hard as you’re making it out to be. Just say you’re nervous.” 

You feel the heat of embarrassment creep up to your ears as you huff and unlock the front door, finally stomping inside. Jooheon could tease, sure. He’d taken charge and let himself be taken care of countless times in this relationship, more than anyone else. To him, this was second nature. 

As you toe off your shoes and shrug off your jacket, you begin thinking back to how these thoughts came to be. It started with a show the four of you were watching. It was cheesy and quite a predictable drama. The pushover of the main pairing had been insulted by some side characters only for that to devolve into some misunderstanding argument between them and their partner which ended up in the roles being the same as they always were. 

Heaven’s forbid one of those dramas change up the status quota and have a switch couple, right? 

So, like the genius you were, as Jackson was making a comment on the location of the shot in the drama and Johnny was laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole conflict, you spoke. 

“I bet I could take charge next time and not immediately fold like Yu Han here.” You proudly state while tossing a piece of popcorn in your mouth. The conversation around you seemed to fizzle out instantly and it took you a bit longer than you cared to admit to notice the three pairs of eyes locked onto you. 

Lifting your gaze, you blink. 

“....what?”

“Are you saying that’s what you want to do?” Jackson inquired. You replay the last thing you said in your head and sit with your lips parted. Johnny cocks his head from his spot on the loveseat, running his fingers through Jooheon’s hair. 

“How about the next time we fool around, we let Y/N take charge, then?”

None of them look like they’re mocking you for the suggestion, but the idea itself makes a mixed sense of anxiety and excitement float through your veins. 

So, of course, you went to the internet to try and figure out how to smoothly transition into the position switch. 

And, naturally, that ended up in you being more stressed out than ever. Some of them were endearing stories of success, while there was also a fair share of failure stories of someone ruining the mood or accidentally injuring their partner during play and it all made you way more nervous. 

Jooheon put his hand on the small of your back, kissing your cheek before he looked into your eyes. 

“It’s okay. Just take your time. None of us are going to laugh at you or something if you don’t find that it comes easily to you.” 

You smile at him and take his hand, raising your voice to call into the home. 

“We’re home!” 

The sound of a door opening and closing somewhere catches your attention. Johnny emerges from down the hall, hair tousled and a wide smile on his face as Jackson pushes past him, face ablaze as he muttered something about someone not having any self-restraint. 

You can see the fresh dark red marks along his throat that told you everything you needed to know about what they had been doing.

“Took you guys a bit to get back home. Was the drive alright?” Jackson inquired, straightening out and smiling when he spotted the two of you dusting snowflakes out of your hair. Johnny turned on his heel, jogging down the hall to go get some towels to help you dry off. 

“It was alright. Had to drive a bit slow but we got everything we needed.” You inform him, making your way to the kitchen. Johnny stops you, putting a towel over your hair and rigorously ruffling your hair while laughing at your shrieks of protest. 

“You gotta dry off properly babe.” He grins, laughing as you swat at his pectoral the moment he let you go. 

Jooheon had an easier time, humming as Jackson helped dry his bright orange hair. He was rewarded with a kiss before Jackson shook his head and pointed towards the bedroom. 

“Change, both of you. I will not have you both getting pneumonia.” 

You and Jooheon march off to the bedroom, neither of you keen on trying to argue with Jackson knowing he was 1000% right. Jooheon glanced at you once the door closed, pulling his shirt over his head. 

“Are you going to do it tonight?” He inquired. You bite your lip, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 

It’s not that hard. 

Jooheon sees the anxiety that’s taken hold of you and comes closer, kissing the top of your head and sending you a dimpled smile. 

“There’s no rush, you know that, right? We’re not going anywhere.” His smile melts your heart a bit, and you nod, taking a calming breath. Jooheon stayed to ensure you were alright before leaving first in his fresh clothes.

You head out not too long after, wearing several articles of clothing from them.

Johnny’s button up, Jackson’s t-shirt, and Jooheon’s basketball shorts, the drawstring tied extra tight so it stayed on your hips. 

When you come back, you walk up to Johnny, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. He looked down at you and blinked before he saw you subtly pucker your lips. A smile stretched across his lips and he leaned over, kissing you slow and deep.  There’s something about the way he slots against you that makes you want to buckle on instinct. Not just him, all three of them. You wanted to push past this feeling and be able to give them the same sensation. 

Your mind wanders, and so do your hands, tracing over Johnny’s muscles, pressing yourself to him as you pushed back, giving slight challenge in this kiss. Johnny let out a muffled hum, hands finding their way to your waist, kneading. 

Your body is flush against his, and you lose yourself in the kiss, mind wandering, thinking of all the ways they’d gotten you completely turned out for them. Every touch, every kiss, every chuckle, how could you do the same for them-

“Mmph-’

Your eyes crack open halfway, and you look up, locking eyes with Johnny. 

That was a whimper. 

Your mind focuses and you take inventory of the situation. He’s panting, looking at you in surprise, his lips swollen, red from where you had bit him, and your hand was tangled in his hair, pulling him enough to make him tilt his head back. 

Your lips part, and you almost apologize, but you stop short seeing the look on his face. 

Dazed, flustered .

You hold his gaze, and there's a pleasant tingle that runs up and down your spine as you tilt your head slightly. Johnny moved to speak, but you experimentally push your weight against him ever so slightly, tugging his hair. 

“Tilt your head for me.”

He doesn’t hesitate, his Adam’s apple bobbing as your lips brush along it. His breathing is shallow, and you can feel he’s stirring slightly against your thigh as you try to lean more into the feeling that had gripped you. 

“ Good. Just like that. Good boy.”

Johnny’s knees actually buckled for you, and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, letting out a shuddering breath. You can tell the words had their intended purpose as you hear him let out a small, off-guard chuckle before he murmured a breathy ‘ fuck’ . 

“You two gonna dry hump in the kitchen or get something to eat?” Jackson inquired, curiously looking at the two of you. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep back the whine of disappointment at being interrupted, but instead, you push off of the counter behind Johnny, smiling and running your hand down his body, over the telltale bulge in his pants for a brief moment before making your way over to the dining room. 

“Coming~”

Jackson glances between you and Johnny curiously and blinks at the flustered mess you’d made of your boyfriend. Jooheon smiled at you as you sat down, subtly nodding. 

‘You did it’.

You smile and sit beside him, listening to your boys as they begin to recap and talk about their day. Normally you were just as chatty as they were, but you spend your time watching them subtly. Johnny’s blush had only slightly gone down, but he had kept casting glances at you, subtly touching his neck every now and again. 

You catch him one of these times, smiling and blowing him a small kiss before you turn your attention to Jooheon, hooking your ankle against his and tugging slightly. 

The move made him stop mid-sentence, but he caught your eye and cleared his throat, continuing and not resisting the move and letting you tug a bit further, spreading his legs apart. You smile around the rim of your water glass, setting it down and listening more, your hand finding its way to his thigh, squeezing and kneading.  Jooheon took it in stride, though you can see red creep up to the tip of his ears as your hand inches higher, squeezing and kneading the toned muscle there. He kept his eyes on Jackson and Johnny across the table, but at this point, you’re sure both of them knew what you were up to. 

Especially after you make eye contact with Jackson while you squeeze and stroke Jooheon through the sweatpants. Jooheon jolted beside you before letting out a needy groan, spreading his legs and pressing into your hand. 

You remember past experiences, personal experiences, even the filthy novels and audios you indulge yourself in, and you find yourself speaking while holding Jackson’s gaze. 

“ Sit still.” 

Jooheon shuddered and planted his ass flat into the chair, biting on his chopstick with an audible ‘clank’ as he forced down his usual bratty challenging sass. As much as he liked to do so with the other two, he knew it took a lot for you to build the confidence to take control like this. He wanted to see how far you'd go and didn't want you to lose confidence in the middle of it.

“Yes ma’am.” was his response instead. Your lips curled up and you turned your head, kissing the underside of his jaw as a reward. 

Jackson looked between the two of you, brows up in interest before he wiped his mouth, cocking his head to the side. 

“What should we do next?” the question is open-ended, but he’s staring directly at you. He’s picked up on the vibes of the night and you smile, the last of your lingering anxieties melting away as you realize you were a lot more comfortable with this than you originally gave yourself credit for. 

“Jackson, come with me. I need a shower. Johnny, Jooheon, we should get ready for bed.” You stand, gathering your dishes and casting a glance over your shoulder. 

“Make sure everything is ready for us. We wouldn’t want to be cold this evening.” 

The youngest duo of the three men perk and look at one another, smiling and nodding, darting past you to put their dishes away. You set yours aside and turn to Jackson, reaching down to hook your fingers into his, pulling him toward the bathroom.

In no time, you have him against the shower wall, placing biting kisses along his soaked skin as you grab and stroke his cock in slow, methodical strokes. 

Jackson kept his eyes on you, nearly mirroring Jooheon earlier and bucking into your hand, but you push down on him, eyes flicking up and pinning him with a heated gaze. He finds himself speaking before he can think, throbbing in your hand. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good.”

You smile, your face flushed but that sweet, powerful tingle of electricity runs up and down your spine. 

“Good, I’m going to take care of all three of you tonight.” You whisper against his damp skin, feeling your confidence swell now that all three of them had responded well to your actions and what you had been trying to do all night. 

You carry that with you into the bedroom, where you find both Jooheon and Johnny rutting against one another, throbbing and nearly ready to cum already as they traded feverish kisses. You watch them for a moment before biting your thumbnail, cocking your head to the side. 

“I sure hope you two weren’t intending on cumming without me telling you to.” Your voice is cheery, bubbly, but has an underlying warning in it. Both of them stop short, looking at you while panting. 

“S-sorry, Y/n.” Jooheon licked his lips, eyeing the towel barely clinging to your body while Johnny ran a hand through his hair, remembering the sensation of you tugging it earlier. He decided to push back a bit. 

“You took a while to come back. Tell me what you want.” He smiled, eyes glinting. Jooheon glanced at him and Jackson looked at the side of your face, ready to step in at any time if the challenge made you lose confidence. 

His worries were unwarranted as your lip quirks, making your way over to him and smiling. You grab a pillow from the bed, one of the longer ones, and drop it to the floor at your feet.

“On the floor. Get on your knees.”

Johnny stared at you with a spark of chaos in his eyes, but he slowly peeled himself off of Jooheon, kneeling before you. You make your way over to him, standing in front of him and grabbing a fistful of his hair once more. A loving look crosses your face as hold each other’s gaze. 

“You know what to do if it’s too much or I go too far, yes?” You question tenderly. Johnny smiled and nodded, raising his chin to kiss your wrist, right over your pulse. He can probably feel how hard your heart is pounding at this moment, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. You don’t respond, raising your leg and planting it over his shoulder, pulling his face directly into your pussy, holding him still as you look up at Jooheon and Jackson. 

“Come here. I have something for you two to do.” 

The four of you fall into a rhythm, with Johnny’s tongue buried between your folds and both Jackson and Jooheon’s cocks in your hands as you traded sloppy kisses with them. You alternate between slow strokes and quickened ones, a purr and a giggle falling from your lips as you break the kiss, hovering just shy of Jooheon’s lips. 

“You sound pretty like this, you know.” You praise him softly, gripping and pulling Johnny’s hair as you feel him change pace.

“Ah, ah. Slow down.” 

He shuddered and nodded, spreading his knees apart, his cock standing tall against his abs as he greedily ate you out. You hum and moan breathlessly, letting him know how much you are enjoying it.

“M-More…please more…” Jooheon shuddered, fingers trembling along your skin. Jackson nodded from beside him, his precum dribbling down your fingers. You smile, nodding your chin towards the bed. 

“Come on, we’re getting to the best part. You all are doing so well for me.” you praise.

A bit of shuffling about later and you’re seated in Jooheon’s lap, riding him while Johnny greedily licked and kissed at the mess being made of your pussy and his cock. Jackson stood on the bed, holding his arms behind his back as he watched you alternate between teasing kisses and deep, throaty swallows, all while holding smoldering eye contact with him. 

“T-Thank you, thank you, please-” Jooheon groans, his cock curving just right. It was almost enough to turn your mind off, almost enough to flip the switch back, but you hold firm, clenching tight and smiling around Jackson’s cock before pulling off with a wet pop. 

Jackson whined in complaint as you caressed Johnny’s face until he noticed you wanted him to lift up. When he does, you kiss him deep and slow, tasting you and Jooheon on Johnny’s tongue before turning his head to Jackson, smiling sweetly as you whisper in his ear. 

“Be a good puppy and hold onto this for me, okay? Keep it nice and warm for me.”

“Fuck,” Johnny let out a breathy laugh and nodded, leaning in to swallow down Jackoson’s cock, his tongue curling against the underside. You press your back against Jooheon’s back, rolling and grinding your hips as he rocked his own up into you, balls slapping against your ass. 

“Thank y-you, Yn~ Fuck, it feels so good, thank you for, ah- taking care of us” Jooheon keens, eyes fluttering as he throbbed inside of you. You feel a wave of pride wash over you as you clench around him. You were sure he had been close to cumming inside of you, but he stilled his hips, sending you a pleading look over your shoulder. 

“Please, can I cum inside? I did well, right?” He pants, practically begging as your ass jiggles every time it made contact with his thighs. You run your fingers into his hair, pulling and leaving dark hickies along his neck as you still your hips. 

“If you want to cum so bad, go ahead. Get yourself off. Milk yourself for me so the other two can see.” 

You keep your lips against his neck, moaning in delight as you feel his hands land on your hips, a whimper of need leaving his lips as he sped up, thrusting into you and chasing his orgasm with near pleading desperation in his voice. 

You close your eyes, listening to the wet sound as goosebumps rise up along with sweat and precum running down your skin. Had you had looked behind you, you would have noticed Johnny had been pushed down fully onto Jackson’s cock, throat squeezing and constricting his cock as both he and Jackson watched you and Jooheon mere feet away. 

“Y/n! Fuck! Yes yes yes, thank you! Fuck!” He whimpered in need and finally pressed deep, throbbing, and trembling as he came inside of you. You moan, gripping him like a vice as you cum shortly after, hearing the sound get even sloppier as he milked every drop inside of you. 

You push his chest when he’s finished and spent, rolling your hips slowly and smiling with a glint in his eye as you look back at Jackson and Johnny. 

Both of them have their eyes locked onto your pussy and the messy creampie Jooheon had left behind. When you still yourself, they glance up, meeting your fervent gaze. 

You’re unsure where this strong wave of confidence came from after the earlier anxieties, but now that you’d let it wash over you, there was no stopping you now. 

You raise your hips, sighing in displeasure when Jooheon’s half-hard cock falls out of you, messy and covered in both your and his juices. You roll over onto your back, spreading your legs and rubbing your pussy, not minding the mess at all. Your next words cause both of them to surge forward eagerly;

“Well? Who’s next ?”

☆○o。Tag 　List　。o○☆

@jacksons-goddess-gaia @kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @angel0taiyo @gettin-a-lil-hanse @dreamyinception-world @yunhofingers @violetwinters @babiebumm @seomisaho @drunk-on-hwa @twistedsiren @shymexican

[jazzycurls]

You Belong To Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Its a surprise 😉🤫

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! Unestablished dom/sub relationship, bullying, cheating, slight coercion, smut, thigh riding, choking (let me know if I missed something)

An: Hi you guys! I guess I'm not new to writing anymore but I'm definitely still a newbie. All feedback is welcome, be gentle please haha. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me. Repost since Tumblr is tripping. Love you guys and thank you so much for the support, hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 3,245

You kept your head down as you walked down the hall, trying hard to avoid being noticed. Life as a high schooler was hard, even more so when you had someone who had made it their mission to terrorize you every chance they got. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you saw Mrs. O'Donnell's class up ahead.

'Just a few more steps,' you thought silently. The possibility of making it to class on time for once seemed very likely. It was no fault of your own that you were constantly late, your tormentor always chose the moments right before class to harass you. Before you could make it to the door, you were yanked backward by your backpack into a utility closet.

You yelped in alarm as you stumbled over your feet into the dark room. The door clicked shut when your back hit the solid surface with a thud. You let out a strangled gasp from the wind being knocked out of you.

Your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness as a looming figure towered over you threateningly. You were yanked upward by the collar of your shirt, bringing you face to face with your assailant. "Where is it," he uttered with a low dark voice.

Light seeped in from the cracks of the door, offering a small amount of light in the dark space. "What?" Your eyes zero in on dark solemn eyes, instantly recognizing it to be Eddie.

"Don't fuck with me, sweetheart." He took the hand fisting your collar, moving it upward to wrap lightly around your throat. His thumb rested on the front, applying enough pressure to make your head swim without cutting off your circulation.

"I— I d-didnt have time to do both of our work." The words left your mouth in a meek whimper. Your heart thundered in your ears and tears bristled against your lashes from anxiety.

Eddie shook his head in mock sympathy as he squeezed your neck tighter. "I'm really disappointed in you darling," he whispered as he leaned close to your ear. His lips ghosted over your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"I'm sorry Eddie," you cried softly. A few tears skipped down your cheeks. For reasons unknown, you were genuinely saddened to have disappointed him. The rational part of you knew that you had no real reason to be upset but the feelings remained nonetheless.

The soft pads of his guitar-calloused thumbs wiped the tears away from your face. He let out a heavy sigh "No worries— I guess we'll just have to find a way for you to make it up to me," he stated simply as he played with the soft ends of your hair, twirling it around his finger.

You shook your head vigorously, eager to have the chance to make it up to Eddie and avoid any punishments.

"There's a party tonight at Janie Calhoun's. I want you to be there," he told you, leaving no room for argument.

"What about Chrissy," you questioned. You knew that he and Chrissy were a thing. There was no way he would take you to a party instead of her right?

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about her. You just show up and wait for me, I'll come find you." The sound of the tardy bell began to ring in the background, catching his attention. "Gotta go, I'll see you later," he finally steps away from you and drops his hand from your neck.

You move away from the door, allowing him to open it and slip out. You wait a minute before leaving the small room. Your mind runs rapidly with thoughts of what Eddie has in store for you.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Eddie wasn't a bully, at least he liked to think so. He had become something like a protector to the lost sheep who wandered the halls of Hawkins High. He took the outcasts under his wing, giving them a brotherhood of sorts that offered friendship and protection as well. He knew that if the dynamics of his relationship with y/n ever came to light, he would have a lot of explaining to do.

It's not that he didn't like y/n, it was quite the opposite. He thought that she was beautiful, sweet, and kind. She was also naive and shy, which also endeared him to her. Something about her nature made him want to dominate her. He knew it wasn't healthy and he didnt understand it, he just knew that it was a reaction he had whenever he was around her and only her.

The fact that he was with Chrissy complicated things immensely. The history between him and Chrissy ran deep and he felt obligated to her in a way. He loved Chrissy but he was in love with y/n. He needed and wanted you beyond comprehension.

The music thumped loudly, causing the house to vibrate. He leaned back against the couch, spread out comfortably with his arm wrapped around Chrissy. She sat close to him with her hand perched on top of his knee, while she spoke animatedly with her friends. A joint sat loosely between his lips as he inhaled and exhaled the smoke lazily.

Eddie hated parties and with his girlfriend being the social butterfly that she was, he felt obligated to show up as well. On the plus side, it allowed him to make a lot of money on rich inebriated high schoolers who couldn't tell when he was ripping them off.

His heart sped up at the sight of you as you made your way through the crowd of horny teenagers dancing in the middle of the floor. You had on a pink pleated skirt that stopped mid-thigh, paired with a white low-cut blouse that showcased your ample cleavage teasingly. Once you had cleared the floor, you made your way to the corner of the room and braced yourself against the wall.

Sweat trickled down the back of your neck from the heat of all the people crowded in the living room. Someone had cracked open a few windows allowing some of the cool night air to filter through. You pressed yourself against the wall as a couple squeezed by you, heading up the stairs. A sigh fell from your lips as you glanced around the room.

You were definitely not looking for Eddie, you told yourself as you searched the crowd. Your search was cut short as a guy with blonde hair and blue came to stand in front of you. A drunken smile settled on his face as he looked you up and down. He leaned close to your ear "Wanna dance," he yelled. You cringed as the smell of his beer-laced breath fanned across your face. 

"No thanks," you stated firmly. You turned your gaze away from him, indicating the conversation to be over. He moved away from you as he left, in search of another prospect.

Your eyes met Eddie's dark gaze and an audible gasp pilfered from your lips. A girl next to you gave you a questioning look and you smiled back apologetically. You turned back to Eddie and noticed that he had left and the seat beside Chrissy was now empty.

You made your way into what you believed was the kitchen, searching for a drink. The only beverages available were beer, cheap liquor, and water. You decided on a beer and you could use one to help settle your nerves.

'This is so stupid,' you said to yourself, as you took a sip of your drink, currently on your third beer. Here you were drinking this God-awful beer, at a party with people you didn't know, all for a person who didn't even like you! Who were you kidding, the only reason you were here was because Eddie scared the hell out of you. The thought of defying him sent a chill up your spine.

Your bladder began to ache slightly, protesting the liquid you had rapidly ingested. You wobbled a bit as you pushed away from the counter and headed back toward the living room. Your eyes immediately went to the spot you had last seen Eddie, finding that his spot was still empty. Chrissy had also left and was now on the dance floor with the rest of the cheer squad dancing proactively as the jocks leered nearby.

You shook your head and turned towards the staircase as you made your way upstairs. As you passed by various rooms, your ears were bombarded by an onslaught of moans and thumping immersing from the rooms.

'How many rooms does this house have,' you wondered as you walked down the carpeted hall. You tried the last room on the right, which was the only room with no noises coming from the other side. You smiled in victory when you saw it was indeed the bathroom and closed the door shut behind you.

You quickly used the bathroom and made your way to wash your hands. You were checking your reflection in the mirror when you heard the doorknob turn.

"Someone's in here," you called out, with a frown gracing your features. You had been sure that you had locked the door behind you. The person on the other side opened the door, disregarding the fact that the bathroom was occupied.

Your heart fluttered nervously as you pressed yourself against the sink. Panic began to rise within you, making your stomach twist in knots. A curly head of hair peeked in, as they slipped into the bathroom. Relief flooded through you when you realized it was just Eddie.

You visibly relaxed as you let out a sigh of relief. "Eddie, you scared the daylights outta me." Your hand flew to your chest as you let out a nervous laugh. Eddie stood with his back against the door, his gaze dark as he regarded you silently.

"Eddie," you called out uneasily. Your nerves began to rise again as you realized that Eddie had yet to say anything. You were so happy that Eddie had walked in and not some dangerous stranger, that you had momentarily forgotten that Eddie was essentially a bully to you.

The deafening sound of the lock clicking rang in your ears like an alarm. "What are you doing," you whispered, watching as he stalked towards you.

"I told you, sweetheart, that I would come find you," he replied, quickly crossing the room. He leaned into your space, placing his hands on the counter on each side of you. "Y'know y/n I was real disappointed in you earlier. Thought that you were my good girl."

"But I am— a good girl," you exclaimed hesitantly, the thought of being anything but good upset you immensely. No one had ever called you anything but good before. You were known as the straight-A student who never got in trouble, a perfectionist who could also be a little high-strung sometimes. For reasons you couldn't explain, you wanted— no you needed Eddie's approval.

He shook his head as a gleam lit up his dark irises. "Think I'm ready for you to make it up to me baby." His arms wrapped around you and he spun you both around, placing himself against the counter.

'This is wrong,' you thought to yourself. Eddie was with Chrissy and he had never once shown any type of kindness towards you. Every one of your interactions together had been with some type of intimidation involved. Deep down you knew that you liked Eddie on some level. That's why you had never asked for help, deep down you liked the attention he gave you, whether it was good or bad. You had even begun to crave it without realizing it.

There was one question that plagued you....why you? You were certain that he didn't like you, why would he want to be with you in that way? The question fell from your lips as a small frown darkened your face.

"I don't know why," he admitted honestly. His carefully schooled features slipped for a moment, allowing a genuine expression to slip through. He had tried to stay away and not think about you but you had him in a chokehold. You were always on his mind and he had failed miserably.

"But I— this isn't right Eddie! You belong to Chrissy!" Your head swam as you struggled to breathe. You were braced tightly against Eddie. The feel of every hard angle on his body, pressed roughly against your soft curves was causing your breath to come out in spurts.

"And you belong to me," he said simply. I don't need permission to take what's mine. "You are mine aren't you?” He wedged his leg between yours, pressing it directly into your middle.

You breathed in sharply at the feel of his hard thigh ground up against you and your mind went blank, unable to form a response.

"Baby, I asked you a question." His voice was stern as he stared down at you. He moved one hand to your lower back and rested the other lightly against your throat.

The cool metal of his rings bit into your skin and your eyes glaze over as you nodded your head silently. A beautiful smile lit up his face at your response. His dimples peeked out and his dark eyes shone with tiny flecks of ember in them. Your insides warmed at the sight and you decided then that you would do anything to have him look at you like that again.

He takes ahold of your hip and begins to grind you along his thigh slowly. You grab onto his shoulders quickly allowing him to guide your movements. He eases your body into a languid rhythm and all thoughts flee from your mind as your body begins to move on its own. He reaches down between you and slips his hand underneath your skirt. His fingers brush along the sides of your folds as he tugs on the front of your panties, pulling the sides to the middle and upward. Your lips swallow the fabric, applying more friction onto your clit.

Eddie's eyes are trained on you, mesmerized by the faces you're making. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you attempt to stifle your moans. A small smirk lifts the corner of his mouth as his eyes sparkle mischievously. His grip on your hips tightens as he presses you down, jerking you forward. Your reaction is immediate and a low groan leaves your lips, and your hands clasp together tightly behind his neck.

The hand around your throat tightens, limiting your air and making your head spin. "Go faster baby." His voice is stern and gruff filled with restrained desire.

You pick up speed and begin to ride his thigh in earnest. Your clit drags along the rough denim of his jeans, sparks of arousal shoot through you and your nub begins to swell from the pleasure. Your panties are saturated with your juices, making a delicious mess on his thigh. Heat spreads throughout your body making you feel like you are on fire. A stream of airy moans flows from you as your lower half pulses and clenches with an aching need to be filled.

Lust clouds Eddie's face as he leans towards you, sliding his tongue against the rim of your ear. His voice is husky as he whispers the filthiest things you've ever heard into your ear. His name falls from your lips with a gasp and your movements become frenzied as you hurtle toward your release.

"That's it baby, ride me. Yeah just like that." he praises, his eyes are dark and blown out with lust. His lips replace the hand around your throat and he starts to lick and suck into your soft skin. He doesn't stop until a pretty bruise is formed, front and center for everyone to see.

A red-hot flush spreads from head to toe as your orgasm hits. Shudders rack throughout your frame and your grinding slows down to a complete halt. You rest your forehead on his as you try to regain control over your breathing.

"Such a good girl," Eddie coos as he takes your chin into his hand softly. His eyes are soft and back to their normal dark brown color. He looks at your plump soft lips and wants nothing more than to kiss you right now. His gaze flits from your lips back to your face as he pulls your body closer to his.

Your breaths mingle together and your eyes slide shut when his nose nudges yours intimately. His lips part, tongue peeking out as he brings his lips down onto yours.

Eddie's heart stops when he feels your lips on his. Your lips are soft as you move tentatively against his, unsure of what to do. He's sure that this is your first kiss and feels proud that he's the first to have you in this way. He deepens the kiss and his fingers dig into your hips as he grips you tighter.

A loud knock pulls you both from the moment instantly. A guilty look flashes across your face as you jump from his lap, scurrying across the room.

"Occupied," Eddie yells out gruffly, pissed off at the interruption. You hear mumbling on the other side of the door before footsteps fade away. He stands up glancing down at his pants, noticing a wet spot on his dark jeans. His erection is strained against his pants, causing a noticeable budge. He looks over to you and you keep your eyes trained on the floor.

He crosses the small space over to you and you glance up at him beneath your lashes. His ringed fingers ghost over your lips as he looks down at you. "Gonna call you later tonight, sweetheart."

He lets his fingers fall from your lips and down your chin before he takes his hand away. He doesn't wait for an answer as he makes his way to the door, preparing to leave.

"Wait," you call out. He stops and turns back to you with a raised brow. "You don't have my number," you exclaim softly.

He gives you a knowing look before a laugh rumbles in his chest. "Just wait up for me sweetheart, I'll call." He gives you one last look making you clench your thighs together before he slips out the door closing it behind him.

Your mind is empty, and you feel almost giddy. You know that in the morning you'll have to think about the consequences of your actions but for tonight all is calm. You wait a few minutes to collect yourself before you exit the bathroom. You leave the party immediately and head home so you could wait for Eddie's call.

Part 2.

[pkmnirlevents]

How do you go about getting ideas for arcs? I’m struggling to figure out what I want to do with my character :(

Great question! This happens to be one of my absolute favorite parts of writing and pkmn irl itself. I've always been more of an ideas guy myself. I hope you don't mind but I decided to turn this into a bit of an overall tutorial for planning and writing arcs. Feel free to ask for any specifics because I could delve into my personal process for arc brainstorming, but I was admittedly writing this before getting ready for work and this post was getting kinda long haha

Knowing where to draw inspiration from can be a good place to start. It's wonderful to be inspired by music, a movie or tv show, a book, or even other people in the community and their writing. Ask yourself what elements of that thing draw you in. What do you like? What would you maybe do differently? I must mention though to be respectful of the work other blogs have put into their writing. Being inspired is a wonderful thing, lifting exact details or passages is not. If you're unsure, there's no harm is asking!

The most helpful thing I can tell you right off the bat is that you want to find out how to brainstorm. In schools they'll often try to teach you ways of brainstorming and outlining to structure your essay writing, if you're lucky they might even mention that there are multiple ways you can do this. The ones in school never worked for me personally, so for a long time I assumed brainstorming and outlining was a complete waste of my time and would launch straight into my writing drafts. But as I wanted to write more complex things and I wanted to indulge in more creative writing, I found myself getting stuck all the time. The truth is brainstorming is a helpful tool, but you have to know what type of brainstorming works best for you. Flowcharts, bullet points, stream of consciousness, word clouds, moodboards, drawings, whatever it is that gets your creative juices flowing. In my experience it works best to remember that not every one of these elements will make it into the final arc. You want to get your ideas down first and trim the excess later. I personally pay for a program (Milanote) that allows me to brainstorm in the methods that work best for me, but by no means do you have to pay for a program to do this. Pen and paper works just fine.

The next thing you wanna do is establish what you want your arc to do. Not every arc has to be a grand character development, but all arcs do something. No matter how small that something may be, something has to change as a result. Maybe your character meets a new person, obtains a new Pokemon, gets a new scar and a story to tell their friends, or maybe all they got was a t-shirt. If you already had a loose concept for your arc this can help you hone it. You can start asking yourself, "how does my character reach this point?" and work up to that. Map out what you think your character would do when dropped into a particular situation. This can also help you to establish the tone you want your arc to take. Is it silly and lighthearted or is it more serious and high stakes? Refer to the stakes tag post about proper tagging.

It can help to conceptualize your arc as a series of events rather than a single event. This allows you to understand how many posts you may need to split the arc up into, how much time the arc may take, or other hard to sort details.

These things ramp up when you start to incorporate more people into your arcs. Planning with your fellow writers is extremely important and that requires a lot of communication. Some writers prefer to do what we call pre-writing, which is typically you and the other writers get together and write out the posts in advance. This gives people the chance to look over each other's writing and make edits before the posts go live. Planning discords are useful for keeping things organized, but google docs or other collaborative writing programs can work just as well if those better suit your needs. Organize who is posting what and generally at what time, especially if the post involves other people's characters.

Remember all of this is for fun! These are not hard rules you need to follow. You should not force yourself to write things you do not like for the sake of others or for an imagined audience. Write what you want to write.

[lizzybeth1986]

A Child of Babel

Book: The Royal Romance

Characters: Kiara-centric. Hints of Drake x Kiara (unrequited) and Hana x Kiara.

Word Count: 3, 484 words

Summary: The five times Kiara uttered the proverb of a language under her breath, and the two times she did it to someone's face.

A/N: I really wanted to try out a 5+1 fic format but somehow it became a 6+1 fic instead haha

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for KTAW Day 3: Languages, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW, @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hermes: Travel

Wolof

Princesses Lerato and Lesidi will never forget the exact moment they knew Lady Kiara Thorne would become their friend.

At lunch today, it was hard initially to tell if the meal today was to her liking. She'd made all the right noises, said all the right words. Rich. Meaty. What bold flavours. But how does that count? She's the kind of girl who has likely been coached enough in courtly propriety and gastrodiplomacy (at age 11. Eleven!), that you can't quite tell if she genuinely enjoyed the food or just wanted to please her hosts.

The sisters shift uncomfortably in their plush seats at the dining hall of their palace, their eyes barely leaving the young girl's plate. Benachin jollof rice was hardly for the weak of heart (or stomach) but that never stopped the royal family of Orphys from showing pride in this particular dish. It was, after all, the jewel in the crown of their ancestral Senegambian cuisine.

So it would pierce the Orphysian soul to its core, in very specific ways, if one didn't like their jollof. Probably just as much as it would shatter a Cordonian's spirit, if you told them you thought their Cordonian Rubies tasted vile.

"Ohhh," Lady Kiara mumbled, visibly relaxed at last. "Xifuma wante samay bët suruñuuuuu". The final word comes out elongated by a leisurely moan of satisfaction. I’m not hungry but my eyes aren’t full.

For a moment, the two girls are stunned to stillness in their chairs.

Little Kiara - Lerato is beginning to recognise - is trying to utter an old Wollof proverb about the joys of their ancestral cuisine. It's said so softly you can barely hear her, and both she and her sister can hazard a guess as to why.

Of the five words said, she pronounced three wrong. Kiara knew that, and felt ashamed.

The sisters pass each other a look of knowing affection. Not many in Europe, outside of Orphys, know this proverb that well. It is indeed the kind of phrase you will chance upon only if you've been consistently trying to learn.

She had to have been learning for over a year to get to this point.

Terrible pronunciation be damned. Next time they meet Kiara again, Lerato and Lesidi sure as hell know they're gifting her the recipe.

French

"Dammit," Kiara hisses at...well...no one in particular, and especially not to the retreating figure of her longtime (and forever clueless) crush. Now that he's gone, the urge to kick herself is becoming increasingly more difficult to suppress.

Drake Walker's loose overshirt flaps against his back as he walks out of the stable, in quick, sure, decisive footsteps. There has always been some sense of purpose in his movements whenever he leaves someplace, even if - to Kiara's knowledge - he hasn't exactly had a job as such ever since that stint he took at the stables the summer she turned fifteen.

It's almost as if that is the only thing he's certain he wants to do here. Leaving.

Kiara presses her head against the door of the stable, his fists balled up so she can resist the unnecessarily dramatic urge to bang it against the wood. She's done everything - everything her admittedly-gauche, relatively-inexperienced 18 year old brain could think of - to catch his attention.

Educate herself on horses (for obvious reasons).

Read up on woodworking (Olivia had mentioned once in passing that he adored good carpentry - nothing much was said about whether he liked practicing. Still, not a bad idea for a conversation starter)

Tried to enjoy whiskey. (Didn't get past half a mug, unfortunately. It was...interesting. She treated herself to her favourite bottle of Tempranillo later).

Came to the stables today for what she tried to pass off as a friendly chat about the winning stakes at the upcoming Derby. (She could have been talking to a haystack for all it mattered. He just looked up from his saddle tack set, took off his disgustingly well-disguised earphones, raised his eyebrows and said, "You were saying something??" before leaving without an answer)

(She'd worked so fucking hard to sound like she knew what she was talking about)

Kiara groans again against the door, weakly punching it one final time before she opens it, muttering furiously underneath her breath.

"Just give it up, Kiki," she scolds herself, hands jammed into the pockets of her coat. "C'est comme pisser dans un violon."

"Eww," a high-pitched, rather sweet voice says behind her, "That sounds like an...uncomfortably specific preference for a place to piss."

Kiara tries - and fails - to hide her grimace. On any other day, she'd be proud of Savannah for coming this far in just a few months. She's certain that her dear friend's rather successful attempt at translation is more a miracle of guesswork. A combination of remembering the few words she has been taught so far, and figuring out the ones that sound closer to their English counterparts.

(And that is how it must be. That is how Kiara knows that Savannah is serious about learning this language)

On any other day she'd praise her. But today... today she just wants to erase the last ten minutes from her brain. The last person she wants to know about her deep, tragic humiliation is the sister of the man who had crushed her umpteenth attempt to impress him to dust. With his fucking headphones.

"Forget you ever heard that," Kiara mumbles, "come, let's go see what snacks they have for tea. I'm starving."

Darija

On the day Prince Leo and his fiancée, Countess Madeleine, visit Castelserraillan after their engagement tour, there are only two members of the Thorne family waiting to receive the entourage. Kiara, and her father.

Ezekiel is barely - if ever - noticed and he would rather leave it that way. But Maman...they had to create a story for her.

The official excuse is that she'll be hosting an immensely important international art fair around the same time - one that heralded the work of Cordonia's local artisans. One that was time-sensitive and couldn't possibly be shifted around, Crown Prince or no.

In reality, her mind had been made up, the moment Lady Kaouther - the young woman her parents had sponsored for the social season this year - returned to the province in tears, swearing to never set foot in the Capitol again, reluctant to even tell Maman and Baba what had gone so wrong.

But Maman had found out anyway. The press was loath to criticize the countess' treatment of her ladies-in-waiting, drooling like sick horses over every scrap of charm and quotable quote she threw their way.

But when Ana de Luca is close enough to you to have your number of speed dial, there's no end to the tea that'll be willingly spilled at your table.

Poor Kaouther was still getting threats and harassment from afar. Mostly to keep her mouth shut about her former employer's exploits. Both midly annoying and deeply sadistic. Both sober and rum-fuelled. Some may be impressed at how Countess Madeleine managed to maintain such secrecy, from even the royal family she is marrying into.

Maman cursed and swore she would never entertain a viper like that in her presence, and who could blame her?

Kiara swallows as she sees the entourage approached. Baba knew his relationship with the royal family was already hanging by a frighteningly precarious balance. He couldn't afford any further damage, and he hardly wanted to expose Madeleine's misdeeds without Kaouther's consent either.

So yes. They were going to go through the motions of greeting the royal entourage. They were going to be perfect hosts. But Madeleine would know. Madeleine would hear their words - cascading in waves of poisoned honey - and know. And be unable to tell anyone anything. That will be Kiara's unsaid, unheard promise to Kaouther, and to herself.

The Countess is stopped by the press before she walked over to their manor, her smile perfectly in place and her hand on a rather diffident Prince Leo's arm as she answers their questions. Yes, we are in love. Yes, our economy is strong. Yes, my aim is to build strong relationships with my people wherever I go. To let them know I do it all for them, and them alone. To be the Queen that Cordonia needs, that my subjects can trust.

Kiara has never heard so much horseshit spill out of a courtier's mouth, and she's been part of enough royal courts to see the worst.

"Shakuwn daha fik alhurirat 'aw albalbulat nahar aleid!" Kiara says roughly in Darija as the entourage - led by the Crown Prince and his future consort - approach. She thinks she's so special, but really she's only about as special as a plain harrira soup served at an Eid-ul-Fitr banquet.

Hakim gently nudges his daughter's shoulder with his own. "But ya Babba," he teases, probably to lighten her mood a little before the group arrives, "I thought you liked harrira soup."

Kiara gives Madeleine one last glare before schooling her face to a more neutral expression.

Her next words are going to be quite nasty by Castelserraillan standards, but for all the sacrifices they are making today her father can surely afford her this one luxury. "Not if it wears a face as sour as her's."

Greek

Just a five minute break, Penelope had promised, thirty minutes ago.

Kiara has only herself to blame for believing that nonsense, after being in close quarters with her for an entire month - but there's something about that woman that makes most people want to keep giving her the benefit of the doubt.

('Me,' Kiara wants to say, 'I'm people')

The beam she is carrying for the barn-raising is small, but heavy enough that you'd get tired out quickly if you didn't take help. By ten minutes Kiara has to will herself to move ahead. By fifteen her thighs begin to cramp, and by twenty her head is swimming and she has a brief spiteful thought about making Penelope carry twenty beams as a belated apology. Though knowing her (and it pains Kiara to admit this; she likes Penelope too much) she would find some way to make herself the victim.

Thirty minutes have passed now, and the only energy she has left is wasted in gritting her teeth and groaning "Just...a few more...steps...till I can drop this...stupid plank...Mon Dieu!!!"

Kiara's mind goes blank for several seconds as she feels the weight of the beam falling on her, a dull pain already throbbing on her ankle.

"Ohhh thée mou," she hears a rough, gravelly, rather disgruntled voice above her, its sound causing her heartbeats to pound violently in her chest and its owner already using his strong, strong hands to save her...

"Ópios den théli na zimósi," she whispers, completely drained, "déka méres koskinízi."

It's a proverb Kiara has often heard in the Capitol - specifically for procrastinators - and she has now lost count of the number of times Penelope has left something she doesn't like to do "for later"...often leading Kiara to finish the job alone.

Drake stares back at her, confused. Mentally, she kicks herself. Again.

Of course. She should've known. Drake Walker is familiar enough with Greek that he'll maybe cuss or blurt out a phrase he'd learned from his childhood in the palace, but clearly he has no patience for metaphors, allegories, idioms or proverbs.

"Oh, uh...merci beaucoup," she backtracks, awkwardly.

Drake shakes his head - his eyes, amused, still on her face - and throws the beam away. It doesn't mean much, but that ten-second glance is fuel enough at this point for a month's worth of dreams.

Almost as if from a great distance, she thinks she can hear Esther's voice, low and concerned. "Kiara? Are you okay??"

Kiara locks eyes with Drake, and for once he meets her gaze. Doesn't say anything, doesn't even show a reaction - but at least he isn't looking away like she doesn't matter.

She smiles brightly. "I am now."

Gujarati/Mandarin

Married as they have been for six months now, Kiara can tell by several small, subtle signs when Hana is nervous.

Not that Hana makes observing a very hard task, not at all. She has an immensely expressive face.

Kiara massages the soft parts of her palm - just the way she likes it - while Hana takes several deep breaths.

"This is the first Parsi wedding I'll be attending, ever," Hana says slowly. "The bride is my cousin. This is supposed to be my family, and yet all of this feels as alien as if I never had a mother from this community." She closes her eyes then opens them again, gazing at the wedding sign on the gate. Delnaaz weds Zubin. "What if I mess this up?"

"You won't," Kiara takes both Hana's hands in hers. "And even if you do make a sliver of a mistake, Delnaaz is not going to judge you. And she's the bride; she's the one who matters. She's nothing like your mother or your uncle Cyrus."

Hana lets out a shaky laugh. "God I hope not." Her finger strokes lightly against Kiara's cheek. "One last kiss? For luck?"

Kiara presses her forehead against Hana's after they're done, sighing gently. Mon Dieu, how I love this woman.

"Remember that saying you hear from practically all the nice people in Bethulia," Kiara winds her arms around Hana's waist. "It's so prolific they should start painting it on their coat-of-arms. In Gujarati."

"Khavanu, pivanu, majja ni life." They both laugh gently as they whisper the phrase, hugging each other tighter. Eat, drink and be merry, indeed.

Hana seems to take that advice to heart once they go in, and most of the family (whether enthusiastically, or under duress - the latter perhaps a result of Delnaaz having a stern talking-to with relatives who had rejected Hana earlier) openly welcomes Hana into the fold.

The wedding goes terrifically: Delnaaz appears resplendent in a gorgeous white silk-and-lace Parsi Gara sari (that, Hana informs her, has been the family heirloom for five generations now), her (now) husband looking very distinguished in his white dagli and a black fetah atop his head. Once she finds herself comfortable among people who should treat her like family, Hana practically shines in her interactions - scintillating at conversations, singing and dancing and joking with the rest when she can.

Her Gujarati is a little shaky still, but that's hardly a problem. After all, this is the first language we're going to learn together, ma moitié, Kiara had reassured her once.

A few hours later, when the party started winding down, Hana and Kiara shifted to a smaller, more secluded alcove within the wedding venue. Dinyar - another of Hana's Bethulian cousins - pointed it out to Kiara, whispering conspiratorily that very few in the wedding party noticed this place at all and they could have all the privacy they wanted. Hana made sure they carried a sweet along.

And so here they are, now, inside a romantic little gazebo, sitting together - Hana taking a spoonful of Lagan nu Custard and raising it to Kiara's lips. They close their eyes as they savour. Silky. Creamy. Decadent.

"Look at us, playing hooky at an event when you were so worried about behaving right just yesterday. Yet won't you say this little moment by ourselves was the best one?"

Hana winks. "You know me so well."

"Only as well as you do, darling," she says, cupping Hana's cheek, "My soulmate."

When they kiss, Kiara can taste hints of cardamom and nutmeg on Hana's tongue. She laughs into their kiss.

"Zài tiān yuàn zuò bǐ yì niǎo..." Kiara says, the grin hardly leaving her face when they part.

"...zài dì yuàn zuò lián lǐ zhī!" Hana wipes the last bit of custard on the tip of Kiara's nose, then uses that as an excuse to gently bite it off her.

They tighten their arms around each other. That saying has always been a favourite with both of them.

In heaven let us be two birds flying ever together, and on earth two trees with branches interlocked forever.

Bonus: English (with a tiny side serving of Cajun French)

Queen Esther seems almost transformed when their entourage sets foot in Louisiana. In some ways, she seems even more at home here than she had ever seemed even in New York. And to think, everyone thought that place was her home!

"It is," she'd explained once, when Kiara had asked her, "but NOLA was where I was born. I spent my entire childhood here. A part of me will always remain here."

She takes them to an old favourite of her parents', a mom-and-pop shop that's still miraculously standing and - according to Esther - that still possesses the same incredible flavours. Hana is already all praise for the gumbo and the bananas foster.

"Try the beignets, Hana," Esther suggests, her eyes sparkling at her open joy. "Dip them in the hot chocolate. Best that way!"

She does...and next thing they know, Hana's best friend and wife are treated to a happy dance on a chair.

Kiara's eyes are set on what seems to be a more humble (but moist, glistening, crisp on the outside!) preparation. A croquette of some sort?

"Boulettes de chevrette," the server replies, closely watching her face.

"...shrimp?" Kiara says, after a pause too significant for Esther to miss. The server nods.

"You certainly took a little extra time to mentally translate that," she says. "Is it called something else in French?"

"Yes," Kiara replies, "We call it crevette. But that's not the part I find interesting."

Intrigued, Esther raises an eyebrow, nodding at her companion to continue.

She clears her throat. "I'm beginning to find that certain words in your French have retained their original form from older versions of our language. And with others, they've evolved over time into different words, while in our language that word remained the way it was. Chevrette was what we used to call shrimp before we started using the Norman regional variant, crevette."

"Oh wow," Esther says, amazed, "I had no clue."

Kiara smiles. "Now you do."

Later that evening, the queen confides in her.

"You know...I used to be nervous speaking French in front of you."

Kiara's eyebrows are knit together in confusion. "Pourquoi?? You spoke very well."

Esther sighs. "It's silly."

"Tell me all the same."

Esther laughs, almost as if at the foolishness of her younger self. "I thought you'd make fun of me for "speaking French all wrong". That you'd look down on me."

Kiara's heart sinks to her stomach. "Did I really sound that snotty back then?"

"Oh no. No," Esther reassures her. "Especially not with languages."

Kiara is familiar enough with Esther now to teasingly nudge her arm a little with her elbow. "At least not unless you're asking me to sleep with you. You can't imagine how many people would just say voulez vouz coucher avec moi ce soir to my face, and think they could get away with it. And this was even before Hana introduced me to Lady Marmalade!"

Esther rolls her eyes, chuckling ruefully. "I introduced her to that one."

The laughter doesn't last very long. Lines of humour then dissolve into lines of tension on Esther's face. She isn't quite done explaining yet. "I guess I was just...feeling a little out of place. So I may have projected a little back then."

Kiara nodded. She did remember how hard that season, and the subsequent engagement tour (which she often things of with a little regret), had been on Esther. And she'd never allowed those fears and insecurities to show on her face. "That makes sense," she says, "but you know there's this saying I read a while ago..."

"What?" Esther asks, her curiosity now piqued.

"'We should learn languages because language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly.' It's a quote by a Hungarian translator mamed Kató Lomb."

Esther seems to open her mouth to protest the appropriateness of the quote, when Kiara stops her. "For the record, it doesn't correctly apply to your use of Cajun French. That is a dialect. It has its own rules. En vrai, I'd love to learn more."

The Queen relaxes, even smiling at the casual reference to her - something she knows Kiara will only use when she's sure they are friends.

"I'm just saying that even if you did get phrases in a language wrong, that wouldn't be reason enough for me to scoff at you. I'd be a hypocrite if I did that. After all, I wouldn't be this good at ten languages if I weren't constantly making mistakes."

As she often does since that eventful first meeting in Orphys, she remembers the kindness Lerato and Lesidi showed her, despite her terrible, terrible attempt at saying something in Wolof. The recipe for Senegambian-style jollof, that they gave her the next time she had visited their kingdom, still holds pride of place in her personal collection of precious things.

"I think what I'm saying is," she says, taking a deep breath, "when you make mistakes but the result is that I'm hearing a new language come out of your mouth, it's a wonderful thing. To me, it means you want to learn. And everyone's pace is different, so I'm no one to judge if you take more time to learn it than on someone else. There is never anything wrong with that."

Esther smiles again, softer this time, and more admiringly. "Noted," she says softly. "And we should definitely pack some fried alligator and remoulade sauce from here to snack on later."

Kiara grins. Her mouth is already watering. "We certainly will."

--

Translations:

Xifuma wante samay bët suruñu (Wolof) - I’m not hungry but my eyes aren’t full (basically the food is really really delicious). Source: Grace in Senegal

C'est comme pisser dans un violon! (French) - It's like pissing inside a violin! (Used to describe something useless and ineffective, or to complain about not being listened to after asking somebody to do something. Pissing in a violin is ineffective, it won't make a sound.) Source: Untranslatable

شكون داها فيك الحريرة (أو البلبولة) نهار العي

(Darija)

Describing someone who is incredibly pleased with themselves, but in actuality they are like Harrira on Eid al Fitr. Used to criticize someone who thinks very highly of themselves but has no justifiable reason to do so. Kind of like saying "you think you're hot shit in a champagne glass when you are really cold diarrhea in a Dixie cup". To explain the cultural context a little, Harrira is the soup Moroccans eat every day during Ramadan. On Eid, it stays in the fridge and people eat a lot of sweets. Source: Arabic Easy Language blog

Όποιος δεν θέλει να ζυμώσει, δέκα μέρες κοσκινίζει (Greek) - "Whoever does not want to knead, sifts for ten days". It is used to describe a procrastinator who finds every reason not to engage with their assigned task. Source: GreekPod 101.

Khavanu, pivanu, majja ni life (Gujarati) - khavanu refers to eating, pivanu refers to drinking, majja ni life means life is fun/amazing or to enjoy life. So it's basically "eat, drink and make merry". It's a popular Gujarati saying, I think, but it's associated most with the Parsi community.

在天愿作比翼鸟，在地愿为连理枝。(Mandarin) - In heaven as two birds flying together, On earth as two trees with branches interlocked forever. Basically a romantic proverb about soulmates. Source: China Plus

Notes:

The full quote from Kató Lomb goes like this:

"We should learn languages because language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly. If someone knows how to play the violin only a little, he will find that the painful minutes he causes are not in proportion to the possible joy he gains from his playing. The amateur chemist spares himself ridicule only as long as he doesn’t aspire for professional laurels. The man somewhat skilled in medicine will not go far, and if he tries to trade on his knowledge without certification, he will be locked up as a quack doctor.

Solely in the world of languages is the amateur of value. Well-intentioned sentences full of mistakes can still build bridges between people. Asking in broken Italian which train we are supposed to board at the Venice railway station is far from useless. Indeed, it is better to do that than to remain uncertain and silent and end up back in Budapest rather than in Milan."

The line about chevrette/crevette is something I read from the LSU website, from their Department of French Studies. This is what it says:

"Change is inevitable for living languages. It would be unreasonable, however, to expect change to happen in the same way in places remote from each other. In some cases, Cajun French has maintained words, structures and pronunciations which the French have long ago abandoned. For example, Cajuns have maintained the original chevrette to refer to shrimp, while the French adopted the Norman regional variant crevette as their standard word. In other cases, Cajun words or pronunciations have evolved while the French word remained stable. The French recevoir, for example, has become reçoir in Cajun French."

Source: LSU Department of French Studies

[ominous-feychild]

✦ OC Dialogue Tag ✦

Following tag by @the-letterbox-archives !

Rule: Share 15 or less lines of dialogue from a character to showcase their personality!

Featured character of the day: Gene from the Arcane Rifts!

"I'm not stupid." (^^^ his response every time someone asks him how he figured out something impossible to figure out. The subject is never pushed because of how frustrating it is.)

"You don't think before you speak. Not enough." (Talking to a tenuous ally, after being asked why he takes a long time to speak)

"I didn't kill him." "What?" "That man... I didn't kill him." (Trying to reassure himself)

"You do bad things, right? Like burning buildings. But... you don't want to hurt me. So, if you don't want to hurt me, I don't see any reason I should hurt you. Especially... if we'll be helping each other." *pauses to finally make eye contact* "... right?" (Trying to convince Tazin to work together as they're both homeless kids)

"How... did this happen? Is this... my fault--? No, {REDACTED}. So why do I feel like this is my fault?"

"I don't know. It was stupid, but I was paranoid."

"I can get us through." "How do you know?" "I just can." (young adult Gene!)

"Say. it." "Or what? Will you kill me?" (Blue tries physically intimidating him. Gene does not fall for it.) "Unfortunately, you've made that rather impossible for us to do." *smugly* "That was the plan." (adult Gene!!!)

"Just answer me." "And why should I tell you?" "Because we'd both rather not the hard way." "'We'?--Was that a threat? Maybe you have--" "No, that was a promise."

"You misunderstand me. I can hurt you. What I'm not allowed to do is kill you." *pause for emphasis; smiles darkly* "Not permanently, at least."

Look, guys, I SWEAR Gene is not and does not turn into a villain. However, he does learn how to be terrifying!

Also, looking through his dialogue has made me realize once again just how little Gene speaks and how much of his snark is internal and/or related to plot twists I can't reveal. I'm sad this is all I could supply you with, haha.

Tagging (with no pressure) @darkandstormydolls @yourpenpaldee @honeybewrites @fantasy-things-and-such @themboty @the-golden-comet and whoever else wants to join!

Divider from @cafekitsune

[just-some-sorta-person]

Can we please talk more about Nagi and Reo's favorite songs please I found out what the lyrics were for them today and I cant stand them

Like Reo what do you mean ur fav song is about a strange chameleon who has a thorny tail that won't fall off who is prepared to be destroyed when the person it adores changes what do you meaaaannn. What do you mean "the cat that finally got used to you was only hungry the whole while and it's all just an illusion" and then the song ends with "I'm still glad that I met you" . WHAT DOES THIS MEAAANNNN

And Nagi. Nagi, what do you mean ur fav song is about regretting miscommunication and yearning for happiness?? What do you mean "Please forgive me, The me who keeps saying things with a sigh" What do you mean "Let's meet again next year", "Please give us happiness like in the paintings"

Also, if the lyrics are truly consistent with the characters, it would imply Nagi being rather aware of the miscommunication, of him saying the wrong things to assure Reo, and regretting it. (also Reo being insecure, thinking their friendship was an illusion and Nagi a stray cat that outgrew him) and I really wonder 2 things

What this says about what to expect for the epinagi vers of the breakup coming out next chapter or chapter after that. Cus I feel like we're gonna get a Nagi monologue/explanation. I know the next chapter's title is trash/POS and the running theory is that this is Reo's thoughts about himself - which I think will definitely be the case. But I also wonder if Nagi becomes frustrated at how he lashed out and hurt Reo, causing Nagi to call himself a POS? Like, if he regrets it to the degree of admonishing himself. We already see him apologizing (in his head of course) but I wonder if he'd go further.

What does this say about where they're at in the main manga? Have Reo's anxieties been assuaged, or does he still think of himself as a strange chameleon tagging along with the person they love until they're inevitably thrown away because they cant seem to get rid of their thorny feelings? And Nagi, if he's truly aware of how he hurt Reo's feelings or if he becomes more aware does he think the problem is solved now that Reo's back or does he still feel like amends need to be made and is fumbling around trying to figure out how to get Reo to trust him again (thinking of how he thanks Reo and Reo laughs it off, thinking about how he always compliments Reo)

I feel like I'm gonna have more thoughts later and make a more detailed post adding stuff (and repeating some stuff from here because my brain requires completion like that haha) or maybe not who knows

whole thing prompted bc I saw anacchi48 's translation of Nagi's song on Twitter. I actually had kinda a hard time finding much of a translation elsewhere. Reo's song is pretty easy to find a translation of tho

[queenlua]

Writer interview game

tagged by @ultrakatua , hello thank you i’m a slut for attention

(if you're reading this you should feel free to consider yourself tagged, even/especially if you feel like you don't know me that well!)

When did you start writing?

Since I was pretty little… my 1st/2nd grade teacher had this thing where everyone had to write something in their journal every morning and I was SUPER tryhard about it, and when she told us we didn’t have to write about our lives, we could write about ANYTHING, I definitely started making up wild stories n shit

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I read anything and everything. I guess I wouldn’t be a very good writer of big nonfiction history tomes, but that’s mostly because it requires, y’know, knowing a lot of history first; if I had that knowledge it seems like it’d be fun to try!

I used to say “I could never write a mystery” but then I read Tana French and was like ooooh maybe mysteries are cool actually so. huh. i guess i can imagine myself trying to write just about anything once. (in practice i mostly end up writing a combination of moody litfic and shlocky scifi/fantasy)

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I’ve occasionally tried to actively emulate a specific author’s style, but that kind of thing feels kind of hard to sustain for more than the length of a writing exercise. it's kind of like trying to talk with a different accent. like, sure, you CAN train yourself to talk a different way… but i like how i talk fine, i’m too lazy to change :P

i dunno if i’ve heard many ppl comparing my writing to Actual Authors! and i lack the objectivity to figure it out myself haha

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

i do the Truman Capote thing where i mostly write lying down (but on a couch instead of in bed b/c partner is an extremely light sleeper and i do most my writing between midnight and 4am lol)

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

god i wish i knew!!! then maybe i’d be able to muster it up on demand!!!

(in fanficland i seem to tend to glom onto a specific character and then just write ten fics Examining That Character From Every Angle. in origficland it’s that but usually with some sort of archetype or folktale or something that i’ve become briefly obsessed with)

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

…I did have a moment earlier this month where I typed a line of dialogue, thought to myself “that sounds faintly familiar hm,” did a ctrl+f on my computer, and discovered I’d used a very similar line of dialogue in an abandoned WIP from seven years ago, in a scenario VERY THEMATICALLY/SITUATIONALLY familiar to the WIP i was working on, and i was like. oh my god. i so have a Type why am i like this

(in this particular situation the Theme & Variation was along the lines of “doing a Horrible Thing under duress but also none of these other fucks are willing or able to do it so i guess i gotta, jfc.” skimming over my past few pieces, inasmuch as there’s any commonality between them, i think i can point at, like… “feeling trapped by a mostly-internal sense of obligation that is nonetheless *experienced* as though it were external,” “people talking past each other for very good yet nonetheless tragic reasons,” “clueless rich guys,” “angry women contemplating murder”)

((wait, also: awful dinner parties and awful sex. fuck, why didn’t i lead with that one. i want to write awful dinner parties and bad sex for the entire rest of my life))

What is your reason for writing?

passes time between now and the grave

(less glibly: i get pretty unhappy if i go a long time without Making something, and of all my creative-ish abilities, writing is the one i find most satisfying)

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Once I finished playing a game, thought to myself “that was good but I really want backstory for [character] and actually I’m pretty sure I have the only correct take on said backstory,” and then proceeded to write that fic. A commenter came in saying “hey I came here because I was really craving backstory for [character] and now I can stop reading because yours is clearly The One that I was looking for, thanks." That felt really good! how often have i had to write a fic, not because I wanted to, but because NO ONE ELSE had written the one I wanted to read??? Glad to spare you some trouble, random internet person.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

for origfic: the author is dead babey. do not perceive me. i am not here

for fanfic: i still don’t mind if the reader simply Does Not Perceive Me; the work itself is the thing i care most about. but, y’know. if someone reads my fic & is like “i’m insane about this character in the exact same way Lua is, i’m-a slide into her DMs,” i’m very down for that, lol. it’s like whale songs. i’m out here singing my goofy tune and maybe i never hear anything back but if i do that’d be a sweet bonus

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

hmmmm. i’m never quite sure how to think about this sort of question… people often answer with something like “dialogue” or “descriptive imagery” or whatever, but that started to feel kind of weird to me at some point? like pointing at a symphony piece and being like “the low winds were especially good at staying in tune,” like it may be a correct observation, but also the whole orchestra has to be in tune to *some* extent for the piece as a whole to work, and when it *is* working the thing you point out as a strength isn’t gonna be something ticky-tack like that

…but i’m not sure what i’d specifically point to as a higher-order thing haha. i guess, last time i reread some of my own stuff, i was pretty pleased with how much interpersonal *tension* there was in various “ppl talking in rooms” scenes (see: awful dinner parties), so maybe something along those lines

How do you feel about your own writing?

arguably the main reason to write fanfic is so I can go back and reread it 2+ years later and be like “damn this shit rules, bitch was really onto something there”

(i like it! it’s pretty fun good stuff! a pleasing mix of action/plottiness/gratuitousness and, like, actual character and narrative work)

[shady-tavern]

Rambled in the tags so I figured I'd ramble here since I didn't see an ao3 link and I'm not familiar enough with Patreon or Kofi to know if it has the leave comments/messages feature or what the etiquette for that there is. Our beloved hellsite is great for that.

Love your stories. Very comfy and relaxing, even the more intense storylines. Big "getting tucked into bed" vibes fantasy stories. Or reading in the woods like Frodo at the beginning of FotR.

The spacy ones are somewhat cerebral? All futury and yet so incredibly human. Fuck protocol indees.

And then like.... Action-y romance superhero stories. They don't revolve around secret identities... I'm realizing a lot of the hero/villain stuff I read specifically on tumblr doesn't as often revolve mainly around secret identities? Some to be sure, I wonder if miraculous ladybug fandom has taken over that niche? Thoughts for another time.

As I mentioned in the tags I'm a bit tired and the stories helped relax me. My cat helped some too ^_^

The superhero ones are delightful. I'm a sucker for romance. It feels bizarre compared to other romance stories, in all the best ways. It's all very soft and gradual. Almost the whole "fell first vs fell harder" and it seems many of your main characters are the fell harder. As if they had to come around and remember that they could be loved. Very burnout gifted kid mood with Demi vibes.

I dunno if there's a set rule to powers in your world(s). But I do so enjoy figuring out through the narrative what certain people can do. Getting just a specific peak into their lives. I don't mind or even really notice the first person. (My spouse has a hard time reading first person). But yeah, each one is also a little mystery in trying to piece together power sets and so on.

This is long and if you've read this far... Well I've posted stuff and love getting comments to note solely scream at a void. Thank you for sharing your stories!

Apologies for the late response and I saw your tags! I found them rather delightful, thank you for that! And for this ask as well, this made me smile a big, happy smile.

I am really very happy that you enjoy my stories! Writing brings me so much joy and happiness, that I always hope I can share that with someone who reads them. I hope that my stories can make someone feel better or make a boring day brighter or help someone bridge time as they wait for an appointment. I am very glad they give off such a lovely feeling! That's genuinely everything I could hope for!

I am very happy that I managed to write the alien and superhero stories well as well! They are a joy to write as well and I am glad that the way I write them makes for fun reading!

I am very happy that you could relax with my stories - and your lovely cat. Cats really are such sweet beings.

Haha yeah, I have a lot of "fell first vs fell harder" vibes in many of my stories. I often try to show and build a connection with the characters before love comes into play, which is very much a demi vibe and many characters are indeed almost surprised that they are loved by others. Or rather, by the person that they fell in love with in return.

There isn't really a rule that connects all the stories, it's more that powers have limits or prices or side-effects and it's up to the person who has them to figure out what to do with that. And those who have no magical or supernatural powers to speak off, they get to be clever and smart.

I'm very happy that you enjoyed my stories and thank you so much for all your kind words. It makes me happy to know that my stories are liked and that people had fun reading them.

[wasyago]

Do you have any advice for someone who isn’t an art clout chaser but more just wants ppl to see their art?

i mean, i don't know, i just post things that i enjoy making and people who like it stick around, umm

but i guess if you're asking for advice specifically there are some things that might help? not in any particular order.

have a specific tag for your art that is either obvious or easy to find, in your bio or pinned for example. most artists use "my art" tag, some artists have unique tags, id's say if its easy to understand that this tag leads to specifically things that you've drawn - its good. its hard to find all your art among the reblogs, so having an easy path to it is helpful!

speaking of tags, use fandom and character tags if you're drawing for a fandom! that's like, the main way people can first learn of you - if they check their favorite character's tag and see your art there! i don't post original work so idk what tags to use there, but if you need it you can do some research and find out.

have a signature with the name of your blog or account on your art. please. for when someone saves your art and wants to find your acc later, or when someone shows it to their friend and they're interested enough to find you, or when someone forgets your url, or anything. please sign your art!!!!!!! as someone who loves saving pictures and looking at them later, im begging you, its impossible to find you when you don't sign your art.

don't be mean to yourself in the captions under your art. i know its enticing to say "a shitty doodle haha" or "this drawing sucks but im posting it anyway", but please don't. for yourself first of all, be kind to yourself, this is art, not a test. and for others as well, because when people see that the artist is downing on themselves - they don't want to engage with that and are less likely to reblog your art. by saying something mean you invite people to feel the same. (i myself struggle with this by saying criticisms in my tags, but im trying to deal with it)

kind of on the same topic, don't try to gaslight or pressure people into reblogging your art either. don't say things like "reblog this or you're not a good person ^_^" or "if you don't reblog you hate art". just like. no.

umm, make your art look presentable in the post. i don't have any structural advice on how to do this, just uh. comes with practice i guess, figuring out when a drawing is better to post on its own, when it's better to have a lot of small things together, when its better to have a drawing big and clear or have multiple in a row for people to click on, etc. depends on the context and your style and stuff so, try things?

i guess customize your blog to where it's fitting you and your style? this is definitely more of a personal preference than advice. i like it when a blog is easy and pleasing to look at and doesn't hurt my eyes, bright colors and eyestrains are very hard to look at for long and if they're everywhere - this is definitely not a page im gonna stay on for longer than 3 seconds. again, personal preference, and this is more of a "know your audience" type of deal.

and just. enjoy what you're doing? have fun and post things that you like and resonate with? find your own way of doing things and posting? be yourself? remember that this is tumblr and we're all just sharing our interests and thoughts and we're all just people here? yea

[philosophika]

Writeblr Positivity Tag

Hi @inkovert! Thank you, as always, for the tag. Just a quick shout-out; if you don't know Inkovert yet, please please please go check out their WIP, My Dearest Enemy. Also, do you like having in-depth discussions about writing with other up-and-coming authors? Participate in @inkovert's Spilled Ink Saturdays. The first session (on book-to-screen adaptations) was a lot of fun!

✦ What motivates you to write?

I agree with @inkovert. It's not that I'm motivated to write, exactly... It's more that I feel I... have to? There's a sort of internal inertia that keeps pulling me back to fiction. Maybe it's obsession? Maybe it's Maybelline? 💃😉 No, but seriously, I think it may be connected to this weird instinct I have to document things? To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, when I was in my mid-twenties, I went through a terrifying break-in. I kid you not; there was a literal man with a balaclava crouched in my shower in the middle of the night. How did I respond? By screaming, obviously. But after the screaming? I called up my boyfriend and narrated every single detail of what I saw and heard while trying to escape the house with my family. In my mind, I felt it was critical to tell him what was going on, not because I thought it would help catch the culprit(s) (we didn't know if there were more), save us from whatever bitter fate awaited, etc., but kind of in the same way people carve "I was here" into walls? If I was going to die (which was a possibility; a friend's father died in similar circumstances at around the same time), I needed someone to know what I'd seen, to know that I'd seen... So, do I write because I'd die if I didn't? No. I write because I'm going to die anyway. Because I know I'm going to die.

✦ A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud of/happy with. If not, maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them):

I can do you one better! Because @inkovert kindly tagged me, I'd like to return the favour by referring you to their Wattpad page, where you can read their current WIP, My Dearest Enemy

✦ Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them, and what are they like?

Haha, I don't know if any of the OCs in The Sorcerer's Apprentice make me smile. They all worry me a lot. By accepting an apprenticeship with the sorcerer Valeriano, Altaluna is heading straight into a nest of venomous vipers, and they are going to maim her; they are going to maim her for life. Every time she feels optimistic or wow-ed by the glitz and the glam of her new environment, I cringe internally. My poor, sweet summer child! Valeriano, on the other hand, is a monster, so it's hard to smile when thinking of him. Hmm... maybe the only character I genuinely smile around is Cucufate, the talking monkey. He's the only character whose behaviour and snide comments can be underplayed as just 'animal antics,' which means he's the only character who can get away with giving people a little of what they truly deserve. It's hard not to love him for it.

✦ What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

Again, I have to agree with @inkovert. The editing process means no blank page, and no blank page means (rejoice!) no existential suffering. My first drafts are always shit and a disappointment. But my second drafts? Dost thou want to live deliciously? With the second draft, I know where I'm going, what's happening, where to trim the fat and everything I need to make the story what I wanted it to be in the first place. Usually, I downright discard the first draft and write the entire story from scratch, but better, so much better. And editing the second (or sometimes, third) draft? Pure, unadulterated bliss. Goodbye, low self-esteem, goodbye doubts; cue me some Nina Simone, why don't you?

✦ What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Editing, re-drafting. I'm good at figuring out what's wrong and have no trouble whatsoever massacring my darlings.

✦ What is something in the writeblr community that is most enjoyable?

The community! I love participating in tag & ask games, reading people's work, celebrating my mutual's triumphs, and sharing my progress. I don't have any writer friends outside of Tumblr (apart from academic writer friends, though they're a very different kettle of fish), so I really appreciate being able to log on and be met with all this creativity.

✦ A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

Okay, so first thing first: I have ADHD. Any thought I have is an explosion that simultaneously sends spin-off thoughts in every imaginable direction, which, in turn, send spin-off thoughts in every imaginable direction, and so on and so forth, and on and on, until some of the spin-offs reach a dead end and their line withers, and/or I reach the limits of my capacity to hold all these thoughts in my mind and spontaneously combust. Instead of trying to fight this multi-generative tendency (this leads to a state of paralysis where I can't do anything), I've found a way to let the 'explosions' take the lead without overloading my systems, so to speak. Basically, I figured that if I stored every direction my mind went in somewhere other than my mind, I could let it do its thing without risking burnout. For that, I use MindNode, a visual brainstorming software. And let me tell you, it's been a life-saver. Now, when considering a scene, I document every possible route available to the characters and/or the setting, assign each ramification a score (for example, +1 Worldbuilding, +1 Foreshadowing, +1 Symbolism, +1 Character Development, -1 Cliché, -1 Undermines Tension, -1 Repetitive, etc.), and then choose the one with the highest score to write out. This method is obviously quite time-consuming, but it does have some unique strengths beyond helping me deal with my ADHD: (1) it ensures that there are no superfluous scenes in the grand design, (2) it ensures that all scenes are layered and fulfil multiple story functions at once, (3) it discourages going with the first option that presents itself (usually cliché, in my case), (4) it encourages out-of-the-box creative thinking, (5) and, finally, it's likely to lead to scenes that surprise you, the writer (for example, I was shocked by how many routes led to my character's death, lol). So, yeah, MindNode has been very helpful to me.

✦ A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law, etc)

I love the magic system, but I'm not sure I'll reveal anything more about it before publication than I already have in this post. You're just going to have to wait and see ;)

✦ Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters:

I follow TONS of talented writers on this site, among them: @inkovert, @that-chibi-writer, @tate-lin, @kingkendrick7, @ettawritesnstudies, @blind-the-winds, @aquadestinyswriting, @avrablake, @alinacapellabooks, @lordfenric-writes, @moonscribbler, @cee-grice, @sender-paulson, @sarah-sandwich, @liv-is, @athenswrites, @junypr-camus, @rubywrite, @winterandwords, @salmonandfox, @merlina87, @songsofsomnia, @words-after-midnight, @lucianinsanity, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @nanashi23, @sam-glade, @at-thezenith, @kestalsblog, @kaatiba, @theunboundwriter, and so many more!

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies!

Anonymous asked:

Dayummm Azul is BIGGGG LOOK AT THAT BOY! DAYUMMM

Hehe thank you!!

I am happy I managed to figure out how to draw the fishies… Azul is one thicc boy

Anonymous asked:

What do you think of Silver x Kalim? Cater x Leona? LMC + Rook x Idia?

Kalim/Silver is cute but unfortunately too cute to click with us; their interactions are sweet and wholesome, but they don’t really give us anything we look for in ships.

Cater/Leona is hmmm nothing against it, but we’re not invested enough in either of them to ship them, plus we haven’t seen anything from their interactions that would grab our attention yet.

Love Rook/Idia though! We have a tag for them and just posted them a week ago, and I’ll write a hc post about them soon… well, at some point…

Anonymous asked:

🐩 anon has arrived once more to thank you for your absolutely delicious art. I had to come out of twst burnout, it's so hard to enjoy the fandom when it's all self righteous antis trying to police the game as if it's not catered to basically young adults and older. These kids have me baffled, it's as if they believe pixels are real people.

I can hardly stand to look at TWST Tumblr anymore either, they're all so white knighted that you'd think they were paid to be piss babies in circles they don't belong in. It's one of those "Why put yourself in that position to see it, if you didn't want to be there in the first place".

Hi 🐩 anon, long time no see! Thank you for being around and still enjoying my art.

I feel you, it really is difficult when you keep seeing people saying the same type of antis bullshit over and over and over again; even if you become apathetic about it, it’s still very annoying. Mostly because it’s impossible to ignore completely – they love to invite themselves to spaces that aren’t meant for them. That’s like the whole idea. No one is forcing anyone to see anything, every ship and triggering trope is always tagged in some way or another, but instead of avoiding this type of stuff they use the tagging system to shit on certain characters and ships directly, just so you couldn’t look for your favourite thing without seeing their outbursts of unsolicited opinions.

It really is very annoying.

Anonymous asked:

🐩 anon again, but now with one that's more funny and teehee haha random info that I thought you'd think it'd be interesting or funny

On that note, I came here because I started a DND campaign with a group over a twst based campaign. It reminded me of you, which made me invested in the campaign. Now I have a whore serving with 18th century fashion, giving Vil a run for his money. So far, 10/10. He has major Edmund and Idia vibes, wants no part of it, gets shit luck anyways and so far, has slept with Bird Man for Ramshackle funds on a bad roll. Mans is a survivor and we are barely halfway into chapter 1 😭

It’s so sweet that you got reminded of us and got invested… I am very glad you’re having fun! “Rewriting” your negative fandom experience with a positive one and good associations is so important.

Major Edmund and Idia vibes + a 18th century fashion whore??? SLEEPING WITH BIRD MAN??? An icon and a hustler. I don’t know him but I love him already…

Anonymous asked:

Good lord. I had randomly followed a twst blog but then I saw them posting about how even though there is a two year age difference between the third-years and first-years, it’s wrong to ship them because the first-years treat them, especially the housewardens, like idols and apparently that’s grooming. Like, no, that’s you in Delululand and I’m about to unfollow and block. #staytoxicbestie

Yeah they seem to have discovered this idea and now put it everywhere, harassing JackVil shippers and such. It’s one of those moments when I genuinely hope that they deliberately lie and reach because I am scared of the idea of anyone being this dumb.

It does suck that there seems to be more people like that lately, and they don’t even tag their accs with “proship dni” anymore either. Gee I wonder why.

[devildom-moss]

hiii! i just saw your requests are open and imagine my excitement!! bcs aaa i rlly really love your writings💕💕theyre such a treat to read, the shenanigans and character interactions are so captivatingly written that i am: Smitten

could i req: a short platonic fic where luke teaches you (gn!mc), a chronic instant noodles eater++kitchen-illiterate person, how to cook?

i think it wud be a funny sight for the rest of purgatory hall getting to see this lil angel easily navigate a stove/handles a knife while the actual adult is struggling not to mix sugar nd salt (also ik he mostly bakes but im of the mind that canon was meant to be ignored HAHA and besides theres not enough fics of luke gettin to be mc's guardian angel)

please tag me @diodellet too, thank you (not to rush u or anyth, by all means take your time to work your magic, writing words gets hard smtimes) 💕💕💕i hope you have a wonderful day and remember to hydrate!!

Thank you so much! That’s so sweet! I hope you’ll like it. I'm sorry that it got a little (or a lot) longer than I intended, but it was a really cute idea. @diodellet

Luke teaching a kitchen-illiterate gn!MC to cook

“You know, MC,” Simeon mused, handing you a sandwich, “I’d like to try your home cooking someday.”

The members of Purgatory Hall had invited you to a picnic – Simeon and Luke prepared all the food. Solomon offered to help them, but Simeon insisted that since it was Luke’s idea to have a picnic that day, Luke should be responsible for the cooking. However, as Luke’s guardian, Simeon had to be there to help. Usually, Luke would have protested being treated like a child, but if it got Solomon out of the kitchen, he’d tolerate it.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Solomon laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Raphael asked.

“MC doesn’t cook,” Solomon informed everyone on your behalf.

“What?” Luke was shocked. “Why not? What do you do when it’s your day to cook? I thought you and those demons split the chores up.”

“I usually just order out or get some of those pre-made meals. Honestly, we eat a lot of instant food when I’m on cooking duty. I can’t really do much without ruining the food.”

“You’re joking, right?” Simeon chuckled, but when you failed to laugh along, his face stiffened up. “Right?”

“Nope, they’re completely lost in the kitchen. Asmo told me that he tried to teach them how to make an omelet and everything inside was undercooked and cut into huge, uneven chunks. They even burned the eggs,” Solomon told on you.

“Oh, you’re one to insult someone’s cooking.” You narrowed your eyes at him before turning back to the bewildered angels. “But he’s right. I’m pretty incompetent in the kitchen. No one ever really taught me, and they’re not usually patient enough for me to learn.”

“That’s unacceptable, MC!” Luke shouted. “You need to be able to cook. What if you get sick from poor nutrition? Besides, cooking is fun. I’ll teach you.”

“Luke, you don’t have to do that. That sounds like it will be a lot of trouble for you.” You declined his offer, worried that he was simply pitying you.

“Nonsense! I insist! If you don’t learn, I’ll always be worried about you eating right or getting hurt in the kitchen. Just come for one lesson. If you hate it, we’ll figure something else out. Please?”

“Okay,” you admitted defeat. “Thank you, Luke.”

“Good.” Luke grinned. “Come to Purgatory Hall tomorrow afternoon.”

Simeon greeted you at the door that afternoon, a bright smile on his face. “I’m so glad you’re here. Luke has been up since early morning getting ready for your arrival.”

“Simeon!” Luke shouted at him, flushed with embarrassment. “It wasn’t that early. Come in, MC. Raphael made you an apron last night, so he’s still asleep.”

You put on the well-made and rather adorable apron and followed Luke to the kitchen. Jars of spices and nearly a dozen fruits and vegetables were set out on the counter. Luke went through the trouble of picking out produce that he had seen you eat before and ones that weren’t especially difficult to prepare or handle.

“Uhm, so,” you drew out the “o” sound while you scrambled to figure out what he had planned, but you were at a loss. “What are we making today?”

“Take a guess.”

“Salad?” you responded, uncertain of your guess.

“No – but that would have been a good beginner meal, too. We’re making soup – well, actually, curry.” Luke beamed at you, quite proud of his choice. “Curry is highly customizable. We can make it mild or spicy to suit your tastes, we can make it vegan or vegetarian, and you can change up the ingredients with the seasons. And there’s nothing more comforting and loving than making soup for yourself and those you care about.”

“Is curry a soup?” you questioned him.

“Well, let’s not get into that.” Simeon laughed awkwardly. He turned to Luke and pat him on the head gently. “I’m leaving MC in your hands, Luke. Be a good little teacher and call me over if you need help with anything.”

“Simeon! I’ve got this,” Luke whined and began pushing Simeon out of the kitchen from behind. Simeon waved goodbye to you during his forceful expulsion.

You put your hand to your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing or cracking a smile at how cute they were. When Luke returned guardian-less he symbolically dusted his hands off and instructed, “okay, we both need to wash our hands before we start cooking. Then we’ll wash all the produce you want to use.”

“Yessir,” you saluted him in jest before following orders. With clean hands, you perused the options.

Among other ingredients, there were two varieties of Devildom mushrooms, peppers, potatoes, revelation tomatoes, ghost pumpkin, and putrid pineapple. Your eyes landed on a deep red stalk. You picked it up. “What’s this one, Luke, some kind of Devildom celery?”

Luke blinked at you in amazement. “That’s rhubarb. It’s a human world vegetable. Solomon decided to grow some.”

“O-oh,” you set it down, embarrassed and half-expecting Luke to laugh.

“That’s okay. It does fit in with Devildom fruit and vegetables, doesn’t it?” Luke smiled at you innocently.

“I guess so. How many fruits and vegetables should I pick?”

“A couple. Add what you think will taste good. I’ll let you know if you make any awful choices, but I trust you.”

Something about his confidence in the face of your absolute lack of skill was comforting – like it was unlikely that you would fail, and if you might, he’d guide you away from a Solomon-level disaster. You grabbed the ghost pumpkin, chickpeas, red peppers, and a Devildom variety of chili pepper. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, that will be great.”

“Is there anything you want to add, Luke?”

“Let’s add some revelation tomatoes! Barbatos brought these over just yesterday and they look amazing. We should add garlic and shallots or onions, too. Those are usually a given in curry, though.”

“I’m learning already,” you smiled through your words.

Luke watched over you diligently. After showing you the proper technique, he kept an eye out as you minced the garlic and shallots. He even corrected your hand position before he let you cut anything, ensuring that your fingers were curled or at least out of the way. It was adorable to hear him call the curled hand position the “cat paw.” In its own way, it was also pretty cute to watch a little angel holding a big knife. When you finished cutting up your half of the roasted pumpkin a good minute after Luke had finished his, it looked disappointing. Although, to be fair, Simeon and Solomon popping their head out from the hall to get a peak into the kitchen was a bit distracting.

“It’s kind of a mess compared to yours,” you noted, sheepishly.

“That’s okay.” Luke grinned and scooped your pumpkin pieces into the bowl with his. “They’re all about the same size, and there’s no seeds on them. They’ll cook up fine, and once they’re in the curry, no one will notice if they weren’t cut up that nicely as long as the food tastes good.”

You were taken aback by his optimism and sweetness – and so was whoever took a sharp inhale from the living room.

You and Luke were halfway through cutting the peppers and the aromatics were already in the pot along with a roux – adjusted to your spice level – when Solomon entered the kitchen. “Mind if I help you out in here?”

“Oh, no thank you.” You shook your head and added the coconut milk into the pot as Luke had instructed. “Luke’s doing a great job teaching me.”

“I’m a great cook,” he lied, mostly to himself, “I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two.”

“They said ‘no,’ Solomon. We can do this ourselves.”

“Come on,” Solomon tried to persuade you both.

“I’m bonding with Luke, so no.”

That was enough to shut Solomon up. He couldn’t bring himself to come between yours and Luke’s bonding time. “Can we at least come in and watch?”

“’We?’” you questioned him.

“It’s so boring trying to watch from the living room. Simeon couldn’t see well when you accidentally turned on the back burner and wondered why the pot hadn’t heated up after 5 minutes. It was really funny.”

“Your stove is different than the one at the House of Lamentation, you rude old wizard.”

“Come on, it was also really cute, MC.”

“As cute as one of your wizard staffs giving you a prostate exam?” You narrowed your eyes at him. Luke decided to tune out your fighting as he dumped the vegetables and chickpeas into the water.

“Maybe, but that’s a bit kinky to mention in front of Luke.” Solomon laughed and turned away. “Anyway, I’m going to get the others.”

“It was an insult you dirty old–” you started, but it was too late; he was already down the hall – and you didn’t actually have an insult on hand. Luke sighed and shook his head at you two. It wasn’t like he was above bickering, but no one should argue in a kitchen.

“While we have a minute, the last thing we need to cut up is the revelation tomato. We need to give it a secret, something good. I think we should both tell it a secret, what do you think, MC?”

“Okay. I’ll go first.” You looked at Luke’s adorable face as you took the tomato and made your choice. “Dear tomato, Luke is a really good teacher, and I’m glad he offered to teach me because I’m pretty useless in the kitchen. It’s usually embarrassing and pretty scary, but not when Luke is here to help. I’m really proud of him. And I know we’re not done with the dish yet, but I’m proud of myself, too – at least a bit.”

You handed the tomato to Luke. Sure, it wasn’t the juiciest of secrets, but you were happy with it. It felt right – like how the vegetables you picked out felt right or how the spices you added felt right. Luke stepped into the corner to whisper his secret to the tomato.

Luke had just finished telling the tomato his secret when Simeon, Raphael, and Solomon piled into the kitchen.

“So, how’s it going?” Simeon asked sweetly.

“MC’s doing a great job,” Luke bragged on your behalf while you focused on dicing the tomato. Whatever secret Luke had shared, the combination of both of your secrets had combined to make a perfectly juicy tomato that was fragrant and slightly sweet.

“Smells good,” Raphael commented.

“Thank you, Raph. And thank you for the apron. It’s cute.”

“No problem. I’m glad you didn’t cut any fingers off or get any blood on it.” Everyone ignored his grim comment. “You should take it home with you for when you cook for the brothers. I can always make you an apron specifically for here.”

“We could have matching aprons, MC!” Luke almost jumped with joy before restraining himself. He added, timidly, “Of course, that’s only if you want to have more cooking lessons.”

“I’d love to, Luke.”

You added the tomatoes into the pot, gave it a stir, turned the heat down, and added the lid on to allow the curry to simmer. Luke clapped his hands together and said, “Excellent. Lunch will be ready soon. I prepared some rice to go along with it.”

“When did you have time to do that?” you asked, stunned by what seemed to be the sudden appearance of a rice cooker on one of the counters. How had you not heard that going?

“While you were chopping vegetables.”

“Well, I’ll go set the table.” Simeon was reluctant to leave the precious sight of you and Luke in the kitchen. He never imagined you’d be so lost, nor did he imagine that Luke would make such an excellent teacher. Still, at least he would have the opportunity to see his favorite angel sorry Raphael and favorite human not sorry Solomon cooking together again.

“I’ll get some Demonus and some juice for Luke.” Raphael took his leave.

With every bowl filled, you stared around the table nervously. Who should take the first bite? What if it was awful? Confident, Luke dug in. You watched him carefully.

“This is good – if I do say so myself. You did a great job, MC.”

“It’s delicious,” Simeon added with a grin.

“Asmo would never believe that you made this,” Solomon offered his backhanded compliment. “I’m going to take a picture and share it on Devilgram. I should caption it ‘Thank you Luke and MC for making lunch.’”

“Good job, you two.” Raphael nodded.

“I couldn’t have done this without Luke.” All the praise was starting to get embarrassing, so you turned to Luke. “Thank you so much for teaching me.”

Luke was grinning from ear to ear. He could ace all his exams and he still wouldn’t feel prouder than he was now.

Bonus:

Luke’s secret:

“I’m so happy that I can finally help MC with something. They’re always helping me out, and I don’t get to repay the favor very often. I’m worried about them being alone, but if they can cook, that’s one less thing I have to worry about. I hope I can keep teaching them, and they’ll think of me as someone they can rely on.”

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to finally get to another request. I've been kind of out of it, and instead of committing to one request and finishing it, I started like 4 at once. I'll try to get on with the others soon, though.