#something with enough flexibility and open space that I can write a lot or nothing at all without issue...

[thistledropkick]

I didn't manage to write a list of my favorite wrestling stuff for 2023, but I'll definitely post one for 2024 at some point later this week.

Also, I think I'll start keeping a small planner just to keep track of pro wrestling stuff this year. I love paper planners, but trying to incorporate wrestling stuff into my hobonichi just results in it getting lost in the clutter. A seperate all-wrestling notebook might be a lot more useful...

But anyway. I had so much fun with pro wrestling this year. My health has prevented me from doing all the fan art and fan translations that I wanted to, but I still had a lot of fun doing whatever I could manage, going to the shows that I could go to, and connecting to other people through wrestling in all kinds of ways, online and in person in Philly and in Tokyo.

Thanks to everyone who reached out on here, to talk wrestling with me or even just to say hi, or just with a kind word on one of my drawings or fan translations.

I spent way more time than I wanted to in the hospital this year, and I'll be in a similar situation next year too unfortunately. But I'll still keep doing the stuff I want to do and find personally rewarding, as much as I can manage, for as long as I can manage it.

[saturnscribe]

But First, Dessert

Harvey x Reader; established relationship. 18+ minors DNI

A/N: This is an ao3 mirror. I won’t be linking it, I’d like to keep the two accounts separate. I don’t have any warnings, I had just meant to write a fluffy drabble where SDV Harvey... has dessert before dinner.

The doctors’ usual steady fingers trembled slightly as they played over the fabric of your underwear. He’d seemed so confident up until now, surprisingly so. The way he pushed you into the room with a searing kiss, how he tore at your blouse, nearly popping a button off it. Harvey’s mouth was hot as it trailed down your chest, leaving the occasional mark you wish he’d make darker. His hands were hungry as they slid into your bra, down your sides. He was quick to pull your pants off, thrown into some corner of the room. But now, with you clad in your panties, he seemed unsure.

“What’s wrong,” you push yourself off the bed, weight resting on your elbows. Your question seems to snap him out of his thoughts, and Harvey looks up with a heated stare.

“Nothing,” he licks his lips and hooks his thumbs into the cotton material of your underwear. The shake in his hands slowly ebb. You shift your weight to help him work the last bit of fabric off your hips and down your legs. As it reaches past your knees’ he tears it off and throws it behind his shoulder, lost to the rest of the room. Not losing momentum, Harvey hooks his hands behind your knees, pulls them apart and pushes them up, up, up to where it’s parallel with your head. There’s little to no strain, you’ve always taken pride in your flexibility. But this was new.

Without thinking, you clasp your knees together. You’ve never been so exposed, and it comes as a shock. For once, you feel heat bloom in your face and work its way down your chest.

“H-Harvey!” A hand darts to cover your sex. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him. You trust him, but you’re confused and exposed. Confusion and anxiety swim between your ribs, but you make no move to break his hold. While Harvey’s grip is firm, you know he’d let you escape if you wanted. There seems to be a moment where he expects you to push him away, but after a beat the doctor smiles at you and moves to press a kiss into your thigh.

Your hips buck and thighs press tightly together. The spot is sensitive, just under your knee. Some unknown feeling swirls in your chest. It’s a mix of too many things and you can’t put a word to it until Harvey presses his lips onto your skin again. It’s lower this time, and your breath hitches in your throat. You look down at him, and you nearly jump as he meets your gaze. 0 You fist the blankets beneath you as you suck in another breath between your teeth.

The doctor frees a hand, and you keep your leg in held place. He moves to take his glasses off, but stops to take you in. There’s a sheen of sweat over your exposed skin. Your hand still covers yourself, but the way you hold yourself open, just as he left you, does something to him. There’s a hard look in his eyes you’ve never seen before and you feel yourself twitch. It’s definitely something you’ll have to explore at a later date. This whole thing was something new to explore. Harvey has come at you with an energy like this before, lustful in a way you wouldn’t have expected. But this was different; there seemed to be something new sparking between you.

“Thank you,” he hums, returning to you without his glasses. His hand returns to the soft patch below your knee. Harvey thumb rubs a small circle into your knee in a show of appreciation, followed by a nip into the underside of your thigh, taking note of the way you twitch beneath him. He presses a gentle kiss to the same spot, and begins to work his way down with another, and another. Harvey revels in the way you shake and gasp in his hold and eagerly skips few inches down your open thighs to press a final kiss to your knuckles. It wasn’t hard to guess where he was working towards, but the gravity of it still knocks the breath out of your lungs. He doesn’t ask permission with his words, but the slow and gentle kisses he presses to your knuckles is question enough. Your fingers twitch with a moments’ hesitation before falling away.

He sighs hard in relief, eyes dropping from yours to the wet heat between your legs. Harvey takes a moment, almost admiring. The intensity of his stare eats at you. You were never comfortable enough to really explore yourself past your fingers and the occasional toy, and you wished he’d move a bit faster. It was uncomfortable having him watch you so closely, but before you could show your discomfort, Harvey leans in. His tongue is thick and wet, the heat of his mouth searing. He licks you from your entrance to your clit, a groan falling between you as he passes the exposed nub. Harvey moves closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders in a fluid motion. His free hand holds your hips tight, feeling and trying to restrain the buck of your hips at the action. You pant hard, squirming in his grip. He repeats the action slow and purposeful, trying to read your reactions.

It’s hard to think as he laps at you, taking note of every hitched breath and moan. Harvey always watched you carefully and worked hard to make you happy, but in this moment, it was paying off in ways you could have never imagined. The way he pressed you into the bed was maddening, you wanted to move into him, to get more friction, to guide his mouth to where you needed him the most. But he took his time with you, perhaps reveled in the fact he was solely in charge of your desire. His tongue works in circles and slow drags, enjoying the way your legs tense around him.

Your moan echoes through the cabin when he sucks at your exposed clit. Over the last few minutes, all you received were teasing passes, along or against the nub, or the faintest pressure against your opening. All teases, until now, where he feasts like a starved man. Your hands fly into his hair, finally giving into your desire and tugging him closer. A growl forces itself between your sex and up the expanse of you, a desperate moan meeting the sound in return. Harveys' tongue works you in broken rhythm, but his eagerness makes up for any inexperience. You throb, and clench around nothing, before giving his hair an experimental tug. Another sound pours from him, and he presses your hips further into the bed.

Your head knocks back with a loud whine, head pressing further into the mattress as he moves from your sensitive clit to press his tongue against your entrance. He pries you open slowly, moving in a rhythm meant to tear you apart. You had expected him to move as quickly as he had done before, but Harvey takes his time with the push and pull of his tongue and lips, working you open wet and sloppy.

Your fingers curl tightly into his hair as you begin to break. It was a wonder how you managed to last this long, never having someone’s mouth on you before. He was a bit clumsy, but he more than made up for it. Harvey was eager and paid close attention to you for so long, and it felt so good, but this was something else entirely. He fucks you on his tongue, spurred on by the way you squirm against him. Your fingers tug on auburn strands as pleasure twists in your gut. You need more and you don’t know how to ask for it. You’re not even sure if you can ask for it. His actions pull you apart, and your thoughts are hazy. He’s doing so much for you and you’re not sure you should ask. You didn’t want him to think what he was doing wasn’t enough, and there was no way you could really express yourself in this state.

He moans into you again, slowly pulling out of your heat. His tongue finds itself on your clit again, body convulsing with sensitivity.

“Please,” you whine, the sound thick and desperate. You fix yourself on the word and repeat it again and again, begging without real direction.

Harvey moves a hand from your hip and glides it down across your thigh. Your stomach flips as he pets the inside of your thigh. You’re suddenly aware of how damp the space is between your upper thighs is, and you move to cover your face out of embarrassment. Your boyfriend allows the action with a dark chuckle and moves his hand slowly between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he purrs, fingers teasing your folds. “All this for me? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You make the most beautiful sounds. I can tell you’re loving it.” He nips the inside of your thigh, and you cry out again. You’re hips shake, but you press yourself closer to his face now that you have the room to do so.

“Patient, love.” Deft fingers dig into your hips and a shaky breath leaves you. There’s a lot to explore outside of tonight, you decide.

Kisses are pressed into the soft skin of your thigh, and he works up to the place you need him most. Harvey’s fingers begin to part your lips. He works slowly, taking time in building the moment up.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers between your legs, fingers finally sliding in. There’s a slight burn in the stretch of his two fingers, but you’re more than ready for them. Your moan breaks off as the heat of his mouth returns to you. He’s true to his word, as he gives you exactly what you were asking for. The push of his fingers is almost enough to get you off, but you do your best to keep together. The doctor had quite a way with you, and you knew there would be a reward for waiting.

He doesn’t make you wait long. Harvey’s mouth continues, spurred on by the way you cry and thrash about, all because of his mouth and fingers. The hand at your waist no longer holds you down but wraps around the fingers of your free hand. The other lays in his hair, pushing his head to wherever you need him most. He lets you guide him as he moves his fingers, looking for that sweet spot against your inner wall. He knows he’s found it when you sob, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” You cry as his fingers work purposefully against the spot deep inside you. Your resolve crumbles quickly, and you rock in tandem with his ministrations. This is what you’ve needed. He knew how to find that spot with ease. It might come from his profession, or previous partners but that didn’t matter. The only thing that did was his precision, eagerness, and ability to absolutely drive you wild when he found that spot.

Sounds pour from you unrestrained. Each thrust of his finger, every curl of his tongue, brings you closer to the edge. Your body strings tight, legs tensing at Harvey’s shoulders, your hand gripping tightly at his hair. Your voice pitches higher, hips pressing firmer into him. He notices the signs and doubles in his efforts. Fingers moving rough into you, mimicking the pace he’d set if he was fucking you properly.

It doesn’t take long after that for your orgasm to rush over you. It hits harder than you expect, your body arching sharply off the bed with a broken cry. You’re faintly aware of Harvey holding you tight with both hands, pressing your hips flushed against him as he works you through your orgasm. His tongue continues, hungry to milk you of your release. A second wave washes over you, a sob escaping your parted lips. You tremble against him, the only thing keeping you upright is his hold. Half your body is slumped into the damp mattress, your grip still tight in his hair. It takes a moment, but with your free hand you manage to pat his forearm in a silent request for no more.

Harvey pulls off you with a gasp, the sound lost in your breathless pants. You continue to tremble, sensitive in all the best ways and still halfway on some other plane. He takes notice and can’t hold back a smile, knowing he was able to bring you to this point. The man slides up your body, presses a wet kiss to your cheek and pulls you into a gentle embrace. He then pushes the hair out of your face and peppers kisses to the newly exposed skin, wanting to shower you in affection.

“Are you doing alright?” He asks softly, hands roaming your body. Harvey always made sure to stay by you until you calmed, post orgasm. He’d clean you if the opportunity arose. Made sure you were hydrated and loved. It was another thing about him that made you feel so lucky, this night aside. You nod in assurance, words still escaping you.

He pets and kisses you as you slowly come down. In the beginning, you had assured him all the attention wasn’t necessary, but you’ve grown to appreciate it. It was a welcome routine. When Harvey was sure you were with him, he offers you a slow kiss, and leaves the shared space of your bed. He wasn’t gone long and returns with a glass of water. He offers to help you sit upright, but you turn it down. You lift yourself upright with wobbling arms, your strength having left with the force of your orgasm. Harvey stands in front you as you drink your water, and when you sit it down, he’s on you again.

During your kiss, you feel a heavy weight against your thigh, and you know there’s business left unfinished. But when your fingers brush against the side of his length, Harvey chuckles and pulls his hips away.

“Not now, love. I wanted to take care of you. Don’t mind it, it has a mind of its own.”

You whine into the kiss, finding it unfair. Taking care of him wasn’t a chore, and Harvey knew it. He knew how much you loved to drop to your knees and service him. Loved the weight of him on your tongue, the feel of him pushing into the tight channel of your throat. The thought of it alone was getting you excited.

“Are you sure?” You ask, fingers brushing along the outside of his thigh.

“Yes.” His laugh is hearty, and it fills you. You love him so much, every little thing about him. His giving nature, how unselfish and loyal he was. You loved each shared cup of coffee, intimate look, and hold. It might be early, but you had plans to visit a certain merchant the next rainy season.

“Now that we’ve had dessert, let me get started on dinner for you.” Harvey kisses you deeply, taking your breath away.

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

Kiss Me

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Title: Kiss Me

Words: 1593

Summary: Charlie’s back from Hawaii and providing social media with all the content.

Requested: No. I had to write this after that video of Charlie singing in the bath tub…

TW: Implications of sexual intercourse, mostly the reader getting frustrated by Charlie being Charlie.

Author’s notes: I just wanted to write a bit of domesticity between Charlie and the reader, and thanks to all the content we got from him the other day, this kinda just fell into place. I hope you like it. - also, a little shout out to @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ because she’s been giving us some AMAZING fic content, and she isn’t feeling to great today. I hope this helps a little, Nele.

Three weeks without being able to see Charlie in the flesh had been hard. Yeah, he’d posted photos and videos while he’d been away in Hawaii with his castmates and Kenny, but it wasn’t the same. Neither were the intimate FaceTime calls the two of you shared pretty much daily. Nothing beat being able to wrap your arms around him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to smell the scent that was intrinsically him. Yeah, you’d missed him like crazy.

Checking your watch, again, before checking the arrivals board you leaned up against the wall behind you waiting for his flight to disembark the plane and make their way through to the arrivals lounge. You scrolled through your Instagram feed, checking out what people had been tagging your boyfriend in, amazed by the talent of his fans. More than anything, you wanted to share them, but as no one knew about you, you couldn’t. It was a good thing you ran a semi-popular fan account that you could do it all from, and your story was full of amazing artwork and song covers. As far as your followers knew, you were just another fangirl.

You were so engrossed in the pictures on the screen in front of you, you didn’t hear Charlie approaching you, didn’t know he was right in front of you until grabbed you by the waist, making you squeal in shock and almost drop your phone.

“Oh my God, Charlie. You scared me.” You laughed, flinging your arms around his neck, breathing him in. 

“I would say I’m sorry, but my mom taught me that lying makes my nose grow and my tongue fall out. And I don’t think you’d want that.” He teased after placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Well, no. But it would be quieter around the apartment.” Your response made him pull away and pout. “What? Am I lying?”

“I thought you loved me.” If he hadn’t been grinning like the loveable idiot he was, you would have believed his offended tone of voice was real.

“Oh, you know I adore you. Shall we go home?” as you slide your phone into your pocket, you take hold of his hand and lead him out to the parking lot where his car is parked. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”

“You, please.” You know he’s not the most confident of flyers, so you understand his need to chill for a while before he’s at full Gillespie – a term you coined not long after the two of you met and he was his usual ‘constant overdrive’ self. He was always moving, doing something with his hands, or exploring. Charlie Gillespie didn’t do bored or sitting still very well.

Once you’re back at the apartment you share Charlie sets about unpacking his case, dumping his clothes in the washer straight away. It always strikes you how domestic he is. You’re not the best at remembering to do stuff, but he always manages to catch what you miss.

“Have you got to go to work?” he asks you as he leans up against the counter while you prepare some food for the two of you. You work at a TV studio, but the show you work on is on a break so your hours are more flexible than they would be normally.

“No, I’m all yours for a couple of days.” Your words make him grin before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss.

Your kiss had led to more of an intimate reunion which led you both to your bedroom for most of the day. By the time you emerged, it was almost dark outside and the food you’d been preparing needed to be tossed in the trash. You couldn’t complain though because you’d been able to show Charlie just how much you’d missed him.

___________________________

After the insanity that was Charlie’s delivery from and subsequent live with Madison’s dad, you now had a billboard poster partially unfolded in your bedroom. Naturally, because he was often a child in an adult’s body, Charlie had been like a kid at Christmas when he’d been allowed to open the box. Off camera, he’d been able to slide the parcel that had been included with your name on – Mr. Reyes had so kindly included a hoodie for you which you were now wearing while you stared at the space around you in horror.

“Charlie, babe. Did you have to open it in here? You heard what he said, it took up their entire back yard. Our bedroom is like a shoebox.”

“Yeah, I kinda got carried away. Sorry.” Leaning over, so he wouldn’t rip the poster, he planted a kiss on your lips.

“Well, don’t expect me to help you fold it back up.” With a grin, you turned on your heel and flounced out of the room to post screenshots from the live to your fan account. Only Charlie knew about it and had followed you early on. Eventually, after hearing him swearing and falling over, you went in and helped him fold the damn thing up. It took a ridiculous amount of time, but it was soon back in the box ready to be transported to Canada in Charlie’s car when the both of you went back for Christmas.

Exhausted, you flopped onto the couch and decided to order in some food rather than cook. But first, you took a sweaty selfie and sent it to Madison.

I love your dad, but please don’t let him send us anymore billboard posters. It took two hours to get it back in the damn box.

Her reply was instant.

Dad never expected him to unfold the thing. Love to you both. She wasn’t wrong. Only the man you adored would have ever done that, and live on the internet too. Shaking your head, you ordered pizza.

“Babe, I need a favor.” Charlie spoke as he tidied up the pizza boxes and soda cans from your dinner, making you groan. You were still exhausted, and now a little bloated. All you wanted to do was to slouch and watch a movie, curled up in Charlie’s arms.

“What?”

“Help me set up my phone in the bathroom.” That got your attention.

“Er… why?”

He scratched at the back of his head, a sheepish look on his beautiful face that was covered in the stubble you adored.

“I want to do a couple of videos.”

“And you have to do it now? Haven’t you done enough today?” you close your eyes as you lean your head on the back of the couch. You sense Charlie standing behind you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s looking down at you, the puppy dog eyes in force. Even upside down, he knows what they do to you. “I hate you, did you know that?” you tell him affectionately. With a grin, he bends over and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” With a chuckle, he runs his jaw along yours, knowing the roughness of his stubble is a huge turn on for you.

“Yes, yes you will.” You pull away and stand up. The sooner you get this done, the sooner the two of you can snuggle, and the sooner you can claim your owed favor.

Grabbing the car keys from the sideboard, you head down to the car to get the phone holder. You figure the suction cup works on the car’s windscreen, so should work on the glass screen. When you get back into the apartment, Charlie’s changed clothes and has his guitar in his hand.

“Remind me why you can’t do this from the couch?” you ask, walking into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you know Charlie’s going to regret his decision, but when he mumbles about acoustics you keep your mouth shut. Trying to change his mind when it’s made up is nigh on impossible.

You manage to secure the phone holder to the shower screen you’d cleaned that morning, pull it across the tub, and leave the small space.

“All ready for you, maestro.” You call out as you enter the lounge. Charlie stands up, kisses you and disappears into the bathroom. You fully plan on putting the TV on, choosing a random Hallmark Christmas movie to watch, and wait for him to finish, but when you hear his clear voice singing what he knows is one of your favorite Ed Sheeran songs, you can help but go and stand at the end of the tub and watch him morph from Charlie your doofus boyfriend to Charlie the star.

You watch him, with a smile on your face, as he records a video for his Instagram reel, messing it up a couple of times and having to restart a few times, making you laugh.

“If you can’t be quiet, you’re gonna have to leave.” He scolds you without any anger in his voice.

“I’ll behave. For now.” You wink at him as he starts to record again. Once he’s done, he says he wants to do one more, slightly longer for his Tiktok account.

“Last try, because my leg’s falling asleep.” He speaks into the camera once it’s recording.

I’m in love now

Kiss me like you wanna be loved

Wanna be loved, wanna be loved,

Wanna be loved, yeah

As he sings, he looks up, catching your eye and smiling. In that moment, you fall in love with him all over again.

.

.

.

.

.

Taglist: - if you want to be added, please send me an ask, just in case I happen to miss any comments

@dream-a-little-bigger-x​​ @calamitykaty​​ @crybabyddl​​ @xplrreylo​​ @morganayennefertyrell​​ @lovesanimals​​ @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve​​ @echocharm17618​​ @kinda-really-lost​ @n0wornever​ @all-in-fangirl​ @5sosmukefan​

[the-dragongirl]

Hello tumblr. I have returned from a long period of inactivity, because I must bring the good word to the corner of the Star Wars fandom that used to be my main fannish home: there is a new era of Star Wars canon that was made just for our taste. It is called the High Republic.

WHAT IS THE HIGH REPUBLIC?

The High Republic is an giant multi-media project being carried out by the Lucasfilm story group to create a brand new era of Star Wars canon. It is set a few hundred years before the prequel era (so, a long time after the Old Republic era), in a period of peace and stability within the Republic. It currently includes several English language adult novels, a YA novel, two serialized comics, a manga, some short stories, and some short video blurbs published on facebook and youtube. A TV show for Disney+ has also been announced, but is a few years off. This project is unique in Star Wars, in that all of the different parts are being written together by one writing team, and are coordinated to tell a cohesive story. Also, what has been announced is just the beginning – they have stated that there will be three different sections of the High Republic, and everything we have had announced so far is just part one. As a note: this is an era for which there was NO pre-existing canon in Legends, so it is totally new territory.

OKAY, THAT’S NICE, BUT WHY SHOULD I BOTHER TO CHECK IT OUT?

There are SO many reasons why the High Republic is worth your time to explore. I will try to outline some of them here below the cut (without any significant spoilers).

IT IS A LOVE LETTER TO THE JEDI

This is the era for everyone who loves the Jedi and wants to understand how they got to the point they did in the prequel era. It shows Jedi at their best: saving people, working together, being completely in tune with the Force (in so many beautiful and original ways), demonstrating creativity and flexibility and being rewarded for it, actually thinking through the ethics of things like the mind trick, and DEALING with their emotions rather than repressing them. It shows us how the rigid Jedi culture was saw in the prequels was a corruption of something that was originally healthy and uplifting. Jedi in this era are allowed to be flawed, and to grow, and have a community that supports them in doing so. This is the Jedi culture so many of us created as fix it fic for the prequel era, but made canon.

IT IS AN ERA OF HOPE

There are some serious problems in the High Republic Era. Without spoilers, the era opens with a terrible humanitarian crisis, laid over the Republic equivalent of the New Deal from US history.  We see a lot of examples of people doing their best to be good to each other, and working for a more just and kind galaxy. They acknowledge that things are not perfect, but people from many different backgrounds (Jedi, politicians, farmers, pilots, business people) work together to try and make things better. I don’t know about you all, but with the darkness we see in the world today, I NEED some of that optimism in my escapist media. The High Republic provides that.

IT WILL GIVE YOU FEELINGS

The existing material so far is structured to really let you emotionally invest in the characters and their struggles. Unlike with many eras of Star Wars canon, characterization is not sacrificed for the sake of plot (though never fear, there is PLENTY of plot). That means there is huge scope for empathy. I’m not going to lie; I cried within the first three chapters of Light of the Jedi, as did several other people I know. It is POIGNANT in a way that feels truly genuine.

IT IS FUN

The writing team understands that, in the end, Star Wars is space fantasy. If your space fantasy is nothing but serious, gritty grimdark, it becomes pretentious and unbearable. So, for all that there is some heavy content in the High Republic (VERY heavy content – the Nihil should really have their own content warning), it has many moments of levity that keep it from taking itself too seriously. For example, the High Republic made Jedi bodice rippers canon. Also, characters like Geode exist (yes, that rock there is a CHARACTER). The result is something which honors the spirit of Star Wars, and keeps you engaged without being tedious or ridiculously depressing.

THE WRITING TEAM HAS DIVERSE PERSPECTIVES

The main writing team consists of five people: Justina Ireland, Claudia Gray, Charles Soule, Daniel José Older, and Cavan Scott. You will note that includes two people of color, two women, and one out Queer person (in fact, one of the writers is all three of those things). This is a far cry from the white-cis-straight-man-dominated writing teams we have seen in the past. And when they bring in other people to the project, they make a point of looking for perspectives that aren’t represented on their team – for example, the manga is being co-written between Justina Ireland and Japanese writer Shima Shinya, and Ireland has stated in interviews that Shinya is taking the lead on the writing.

IT VALUES MEANINGFUL REPRESENTATION

That diverse writing team means a cast that looks WAY more like the real world than any other era of Star Wars we’ve seen, in terms of representation. There are multiple characters of color, who are both heroes and central to the story. There are at least five canonical queer characters to date (a MLM couple, an Ace character, and two NB character).  [EDIT: Thank you @legok9​ for letting me know about the NB characters]. Among binary gendered characters, there is a very even balance of men and women. The writing team has also stated that they will be incorporating more representation of disability in the works to come. And the story is so much better for it – representation is included here BECAUSE it makes for more creative, believable, and original storytelling.

IT IS ACCESSIBLE

Because of the multiple formats, and the fact that it doesn’t rely on you knowing any prior lore, the High Republic offers many avenues to engage for people with all kinds of needs. Know nothing about Star Wars canon and feel intimidated about catching up? The canon is all new in this era anyway, so you’re fine. Can’t handle flashing lights? No problem – the little bit of video content that exists is totally free from the strobing effects that caused seizure and sensory issues. Need purely audio content? You can still have a full experience of the High Republic with the gorgeously sound-scaped audiobooks. Don’t have the attention span for books or long movies? Then the comics are your friend.

THERE IS SOMETHING FOR ALL

Between the books aimed towards adults and teens (and their respective audiobooks), the kids books, the comics, the manga, the short stories, AND the eventual TV show on Disney+, there is going to be content in the High Republic that suits most audiences. And that is just what has been announced so far – there is still more to come for phases II and III. This isn’t Star Wars written towards one group or demographic – it is Star Wars for everyone.

DID I MENTION THE FANCY JEDI UNIFORMS?

Because cosplayers and fanartists? This is the era for you. We are getting Jedi in silks with elaborate gold embroidery. Jedi with jewelry other decorative elements. Even the practical field uniforms have tooled and embossed leather. If you want to draw or make Jedi that have some of that that sweet LoTR-esque high fantasy aesthetic, the High Republic has your back. (Not going to lie – I am ALREADY imagining the time travel AUs. Put Obi-Wan in fancy clothes!)

OKAY, YOU’VE SOLD ME. WHERE SHOULD I START?

I strongly recommend everyone looking to get into the High Republic (who is old enough to be on Tumblr) start with Light of the Jedi by Charles Soule. I alternated between the physical book and the audio book, and found it delightful in both formats. After that, you have a lot of options. You can read or listen to the audio book of the YA novel A Test of Courage by Justina Ireland. You can check out the currently running Star Wars: The High Republic comic from Marvel, or the Star Wars: The High Republic Adventures comic from IDW. Or you can skip straight to Into the Dark by Claudia Gray. Honestly, there is no wrong order to try out most of the High Republic.

IN CONLUSION

The High Republic is Star Wars written for people who DON’T want Star Wars to be a good ‘ol boys club for salty white dudes who don’t want to see anything but more of Luke Skywalker. It offers broad representation, and optimistic narrative, and whole bunch of awesome Jedi content. If you are someone who fell in love with Jedi in the prequel era, the High Republic will give you more of what you loved. And if you are totally new to Star Wars? The High Republic is here for you too.

So, go check it. And then go write fic for it (please, there are only, like, 14 fics on AO3, I am dying).

[dokifluffs]

Babysitters | Ushijima, Sakusa

Pairings: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral), Sakusa X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluff tehe 

Request: “Can I request babysitting with Sakusa and Wakatoshi (separate)” - anonnie

Author’s Note: Of course you can tehe. Thanks for waiting patiently while I cleared some things off my plate. This, like always, was fun to write. Thank you for requesting and happy reading! PS, i might’ve gotten a lil carried away writing these scenarios aksjdhaksh

Ushi: 

“Hey, guys!” You bent down and swept your niece and nephew up as they ran into your arms, almost knocking you over

“You’ve gotten so big!” You swung their little hands in yours

“Thanks for taking them tonight,” you stood and hugged your sister as she stood near your front door. She had asked you to take care of her kids for the night as she had to head back to work for a meeting

“It’s nothing, plus I haven’t seen them in so long, and Ushi and I can entertain them.” You saw your sister off as she drove off before getting back to the living room, following the sound of the voices of your nephew

You walked into the sight of Ushi standing as your nephew hung from his hand, squealing in excitement while your niece looked in amazement, wanting to go up too but was too shy to ask, clinging on to the bottom of his shorts instead

“They’ve grown so well like last summer’s harvest amshjd,” Ushi looked to you

“And they remember you,” you smiled. You plopped down onto the couch, your niece letting go of his shorts and stood at the edge of the couch, her stuffed bunny in hand

“Hey, sweetie,” you picked her up and she sat down in the little space by your legs, snuggled up beside you as she watched at how “high” her brother was in Ushi’s grasp

You could remember the first time they had seen him, the fear in their eyes seeing such a stoic man, his tall and broad stature looking menacingly down to them when they were even younger

He wasn’t the best at it but you had to get him to smile to make them trust him and think he was a good guy, which indeed he was

It was still early in the evening, just around dinner time which was perfect

“Do you guys want pizza for dinner?” You didn’t know what other response you were gonna get as they cheered loudly, chanting for cheese pizza 

You ordered it online and began playing twister while waiting. Their energies were endless, giggles never ceasing as they played 

You sat leaned into the back of the couch as Ushi tried his best to play along, trying also to not crush them with his body if he lost 

which he did... numerous times, also because he wasn’t the most flexible 

but after a bit, your nephew found one of Ushi’s volleyballs behind the couch near the corner, out of the way. He picked it up and asked what it was and asked to play with it 

The two of you saw no reason to not play so on went the shoes and into the backyard, your laptop sitting on the couch that faced the glass sliding door so you could see how far the pizza was in the stages of it being made and delivered 

The kids stood in front of him as he knelt down to explain volleyball, patient whenever they jumped in, asking a question about how to play and etc while he was in the process of doing to already 

He positioned their bodies, showing them the proper form of how to receive, pass the ball back up

the two of them were pretty bad but they loved it. They didn’t care about the burn of the leathery ball when it bounced off their arms, they wanted to keep playing, even when the pizza already arrived 

they were so eager while eating, the entire topic over dinner about volleyball and Ushijima 

they were filled with so much curiosity, it even made him unsure about what to say sometimes where you fortunately stepped in 

Dinner went by a lot faster than you realized. When they finished their last bites, they were so eager to go back outside but it was too dark and they would’ve been eaten alIve by the mosquitos

“How about you show them some of your games?” you offered as they pouted, sulking on the couch, the ball sitting between the two of them 

“Is it alright?” he asked. He felt like he should put something more entertaining to watch like an adventure movie or something or played more board games and what not instead 

“of course. they had so much fun earlier. Who knows, maybe they’ll even grow to play when they’re a bit older and maybe even go pro like you.” You brushed your fingers through his hair, ruffling the sides as he nodded, listening 

He looked up a couple videos and casted it to the tv. All the gloomy auras around the two of them were off and they were suddenly sitting on the ground, their eyes glued to the screen 

“Woah, that’s you?” Your nephew stood as he frantically pointed to the tv, his eyes wide as he stared back to Ushijima 

“Yes,” he smiled 

The two of you sat back on the couch in amusement watching the two of them watch the game 

their little minds were blown and they wanted to play more 

when you tried to get them to sleep, for the first time, it felt impossible. They were glued to Ushi’s hips so he had to be the one to put them to bed in the guest room, promising them that he’ll take them one day to the gym where they could really learn to play for real 

Sakusa: 

“I am leaving.” Sakusa didn’t even step through the door when he saw you carrying your brother’s baby, your baby nephew

You had told him you were going to be busy with something today and that he was welcome to join but he didn’t know you were going to be babysitting

And babies were the germiest of germs

The thought itself was enough to make him shudder- how they crawl on their hands and legs across the floor then proceeding to play with their toys that’s been bitten and chewed on, left on any surface which who knows has been last cleaned

He almost gagged

“Aw, Kiyoomi, don’t be like that. Just stay with me today?” You asked. “Look how cute he is,” you spoke in a baby voice bouncing him at your side, making the biggest smile appear

“He’s covered with germs,” he grimaced at the young child who looked up to him with such bright eyes. “You should wear your mask and gloves…. I’ll go get some, I have extras in my car-“

“Kiyoomi, no,” you called out to him but there was no point, he was already opening his trunk where he kept a special drawer type of compartment that constantly disinfected and cleaned his gloves and masks

When he returned, you rejected his offer. “Kiyoomi, I’ll be fine, just, please come in. You came all this way just to turn back?” The drive itself was almost an hour away from your guys’ place

“Yes,” he deadpanned before he turned away

“You’re going to leave me all alone, omi?” Your voice itself was enough to stop him in his tracks, turning around to see your saddened look, the feeling of burning guilt swelling up inside of him

You looked down to the ground as you nodded and turned back into the house, walking away from the door as it slowly swung shut by your foot. Checkmate

He could feel his brow twitching knowing exactly what you were doing and the worse part was that it was working

“Weeee, airplane~ Yay~” he could hear the sound of your voice as he walked down the hall, his mask and gloves on as he approached you

He stood hesitantly in the doorway at the end fo the hall that opened up to a tall living room, the golden rays of the sun being blocked by white blinds that made the room glow with a light ambiance

“Wanna fly again?” You asked in a babying voice to your nephew as he burst into a fit of giggles, his hands reaching toward you

“One- two- three, weee!” You lifted him up an arms-length above you

“Do you wanna fly with Uncle Omi?” You turned toward him and approached, Sakusa’s feet stuck to the ground as he stood there

It was too late for him to leave you now that he was here, the door shut behind him

Your nephew clung to your shirt, his infant eyes bright as he looked to your boyfriend, their eyes locking

You were taken aback when your nephew reached his hands out for him, usually not boding well with strangers but he whined meaning he wanted him as Sakusa staggered back

“No, no way,” Sakusa shook his head firmly. “I’m here but I’m not holding him or touching or anything with him.”

“Please? He wants you, omi. Plus, I need to use the bathroom. Can’t you just hold him till I get back?”

You jutted your lip out just the slightest bit. He couldn’t believe how practically identical the two of you looked but caved

“Fine.” He took your nephew from him, holding him securely in his hands but not bringing him any closer than his arms-length as you went down the hall, disappearing

He bit his lip not wanting to be near your nephew’s face, almost gagging and fainting when snot dribbled down his nose

“Y/N, come back,” he called, his voice echoing in the spacious house but nothing

You stood in the bathroom listening to him, not using it at all

“Y/N?” No answer

“Ugh, gross, he commented as he sneered at him behind his mask

But your nephew was entranced by Sakusa

He looked up to him with bright eyes, his hands reaching out and his whines getting louder and more demanding, wanting to be closer

“No, Y/N is gonna come back and take you away. I won’t touch or do anything with you today,” he huffed, looking down to him

But his eyes and aura were too menacing for him. You could hear your nephew as he cried and wailed, squirming in Sakusa’s grasp

“Hey- stop, you’ll fall,” he tried to readjust his hands until your nephew was about to fall, only for Sakusa to wrap his arms around him, securing him in his grasp but now he was pressed to his body

Your nephew’s cries died down a bit now that Sakusa held him close

He instantly clung to his shirt as tears dripped off his chin making little wet spots on Sakusa’s shirt

“Ew, don’t get your snot on me,” he was disgusted seeing his teary face so close to his now, making him feel like he was exposed despite still wearing gloves and mask

“Blow,” he demanded as he grabbed a tissue from his pocket, holding it lightly over his tiny nose. Obeying, your nephew blew into his nose and Sakusa was quick to dispose of the tissue into the trashcan in the kitchen

You peeked your head out of the bathroom hearing running water and followed it toward the kitchen

“Wash all the germs away,” Sakusa held your nephew over the sink counter as he rubbed his hands that were lathered with kid-safe soap, the water warm enough so it wouldn’t burn him

You had to cover your mouth from laughing at such the Sakusa thing he was doing with your nephew, teaching him how to properly wash his hands

Although your nephew wasn’t old enough to talk yet, he looked up to Kiyoomi like he was understanding every word as easy as breathing

“Are your hands dried yet?” Your nephew waved his damp hands around before Sakusa caught them in his, drying them with more tissues. “Alright, let’s go find Y/N,” he took your nephew into his arms and turned, finding you with a sly smile on your face with your arms crossed, your back leaned on the wall

“Seems like you make a pretty good babysitter, after all,” you reached for your nephew, only for him to wrap his short arms around Sakusa’s neck

“No!” He whined, your jaw practically dropping to the ground

“Wow, his first word and he says no to me.”

For the rest of the day, your nephew was clung to Sakusa’s side like he was his father but the sight was memorable for you since you’ve never seen a parental- type of side to him

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @sam-ate-giorno​​​ @1-800-wholesome​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection

[actualbird]

not tot related just me getting VERY anxious so it's not too important so i can actually use a read more haha: is anybody else like me irt needing at LEAST five things to be happening at once for like, productivity to happen?

back in january, no joke, i was once sewing an entire dress while transcribing a 2hour zoom call (freelance work) WHILE writing fanfiction. and i got all those things done when they needed to be done. but that was me unemployed. things r different when employed, yea?

in my last job (which is very very very corporate and also sucked) i had a hard time for a lot of reasons but one of them is bc i had to be doing one thing at a time, on the job. theres no space for me to open a new tab for something interesting, every task took up so much space for that. not only did that make me sad as fuck, it also just did NOT activate my brain. brain was like, "the activity quota hasnt been reached, we dont turn on yet!!" and im pointing at the task like BUT I HAVE TO DO THIS and brain is like "tough luck, scrub!!!" i was working so slowly and so badly lmao.

current job is a lot more flexible tho in like, every way. flexi hours as long as i timekeep everything right but bros, i have a timekeep topic thats labeled "personal development" which is basically "theres nothing for me to do" and when i checked my prev salary, those hours were still included in my work hours. what? anyway, a bunch of coworkers have shared that they sometimes play video games or the like while working, bc of focus issues like me. and so i feel p safe doing the same shit, i get all my work tasks done alongside writing thousands of words of tot fandom bullshit and doing tot dailies and petting luke plush.

i cannot stress enough that being able to do this allows me to work better. my writing for both work and fandom bullshit is just....much more lively. and the amount of shit i write for both work and fandom daily? you dont wanna know. it's a LOT. and i work faster too!! i have to overtime every once in a while in this job, but it's more often i find myself with personal development time because i managed to finish so much ahead of time. and most of the time i feel GOOD. most of the time this FEELS GREAT. i feel energized and happy with the stuff im making

but now im getting worried (typical) that maybe im just being lazy????

like idk, i believe in "work smart, not hard" and "work with your brain quirks, not against them" but WHAT IF I COULD BE DOING THINGS IN A MORE STREAMLINED EFFECTIVE PRODUCTIVELY BETTER QUALITY MANNER????

im game to give up feeling "good" if it means i can write faster and better. i have not been diagnosed with ADHD but i have a...suspicion? but idk if it's ADHD or just another facet of bipolar disorder, which i am diagnosed with.

oh god, one huge con of my workstyle is that it is messy. i get everything done but sometimes people need to yank me back and ask me where a certain thing is because it slipped through the cracks and i forgot about it and oh god. im not feeling very okay anymore but mY POINT MY POINT IS!!

PPL WITH SIMILAR OR DIFFERENT BRAINS, DO U HAVE THOUGHTS??? am i fucking insane? do i need to things better? should i eat soil? why did god make me like this?

i wrote this post with 3 devices open

[bottlesandcats]

hiii!! i hope it's okay to just ask you, i really want to start writing fanfiction but i'm so embarrassed of my writing style and in general, ever showing it to anyone? do you have any tips for beginners? 🥺

Hey there Anon! Sorry for the delay in getting back to you, but I was at work when I saw your ask, and wanted to really think about what to say before responding. With that in mind, I hope you don't mind a really lengthy answer.

I have to say I’m incredibly flattered to have someone ask me for writing tips, and will do my best to provide some insights based on my own experience. I'm no expert, but I've done a lot of writing both academic and creative. Of course, it goes without saying that the following strategies are what work for me, personally. Everyone works and thinks differently, so some of my suggestions may not fit the way you work and that's totally okay!

Because I am an anal nerd, I've organized my responses into categories.

Writing Style

Firstly, remember that your writing style is unique to you and you have nothing to be embarrassed about! But honestly, I think a lot of writers feel the same way; I don’t actually like my fiction writing style, either, and am always working to improve it.

One thing I’ve found that helps: find authors whose style you really like, and read and reread their stories and study how they write. What’s their sentence structure like? How do they write dialogue? How do they set up scenes? Is it through dialogue or more through the use of a character’s thoughts? This is what I do. I have three authors, who all write in a particular way that I really love, that I tend to reread and study for inspiration. Just know that your style is not set in stone and you do have the ability to adjust it, it just takes practice.

At the end of the day it's easy to wish we could write like our favorite authors, but don't be too hard on yourself; your style is special, too!

Getting Started

When I used to write research papers in school, I was a big fan of creating outlines before I'd start writing the actual paper. However, for creative writing, I don't use outlines because I find that I'm constantly changing things around. The outline would either have to be so basic in order to allow for flexibility that it wouldn't be of much use, or it would become irrelevant three chapters in.

Writing that first sentence is probably the hardest part of writing a story. What I did, for the story I'm working on now, is picked a part that I was really excited to write about and just started with that, first (I'm pretty sure it was something that comes much later in my story, that I haven't even posted yet). That helped me to get really into the process and feel confident about what I was doing, which made it easier to move onto other sections. What I'm trying to say is don’t be hemmed in by feeling like you have to write sequentially. I tend to write scenes as they come to me; I don’t force myself to write consecutive chapters, if that makes sense. For example, in my current story, I had chapter 14 finished before chapter 11 bc I had a burst of inspiration and just wrote it all out. Just be aware that sometimes this can lead to you writing yourself into a corner (which did happen to me in this fic), but the beauty of it all is that it’s your story and you can change whatever you want!

If you’re writing a story with chapters, keep a point in mind. My beta reader actually taught me this. With each chapter, ask yourself “What is the goal of this chapter?” Think of chapters as mini stories that, when combined and read in order, create one big story (duh). Therefore each chapter should ideally have a purpose that moves the overall story forward.

Write about what you know. If you don't know -> research

Authenticity is really important to me. I have googled the most random shit for this story: "Did soldiers have to repair their own uniforms in WWII?" "Popular slang of the 30s and 40s." "How to make jambalaya." "Popular cigarette brands of the 30s."

I have also been very careful around race in my story as it involves POC and I'm as white as white gets (I got a hyphenated name and everything). When I address a character's emotions around race I try to match it to how they acted in the show/movie. I don't rely on conjecture or how I think they'd feel, bc as a white person, it's impossible for me to truly know what it's like to be a POC. This also goes for dialogue; it can be easy to turn people into caricatures. I've watched TFATWS at least three times, and have watched numerous interviews with Anthony Mackie to try and make sure I write dialogue and emotion that fits him as an individual and not a stereotype. It's not perfect, and I'm sure I've made some mistakes, but it's something that's really important to me and I try my damndest to make sure Sam Wilson comes across as authentic.

Getting Edits

I see a lot of people suggest sharing your work with friends or family to get feedback. I'm not really a fan of this because I'm pretty private about my writing. I don't want anyone that I know reading it bc, frankly, I'm embarrassed (hey look how we came full-circle there!). Besides AO3, Tumblr is the only space that I feel comfortable enough to share my work without fear of judgement. I think the preferred alternative is to get yourself a beta reader. This is the first fic that I've worked on with a beta reader and...wow, what a huge difference it has made! I found my beta reader when he posted on tumblr expressing an interest in beta'ing, and so I messaged him (hey @3dg310rdsupreme). It’s the best decision I ever made. He has truly made me a better writer, and my current in-progress fic wouldn’t be nearly as good without him offering edits, acting as a sounding board, and reigning in my excessive use of lengthy paragraphs (he will probably cringe at these paragraphs, here).

Posting Your Story

If/when you do decide to post your story in a public forum, try to maintain a loose posting schedule. When I first started uploading I committed to a chapter a week, but by the eighth chapter I was getting too stressed and found myself glued to my computer 24/7 trying to keep up. Hold yourself to goals so you don't wind up abandoning the fic, but remember that you are your own boss and this is meant to be fun, so go easy on yourself. I'd also recommend getting several chapters finished BEFORE you even post the first one, to give yourself a head start. You think you have plenty of time but it's surprising how much time edits and rewrites can take.

It can be really scary to share your work with others. Writing is really hard, can be very personal, and it's an incredibly vulnerable feeling to put yourself out there like that and leave yourself open to the judgements of others. I was terrified when I first started to upload chapters because I just wasn't sure what reader etiquette was like. The last time I posted a fic was on FanFiction.net almost 10 years ago and ppl did not hold back their criticism (I think things have vastly improved since then or maybe AO3 readers are just nicer). I can't emphasize this enough: you are not obliged to take readers' criticisms/feedback whether they are constructive or not. I don't ever leave criticisms or corrections when I comment on other writers' stories; I honestly don't feel it's my place to do anything other than support them as they are sharing their talents for free. Some writers welcome constructive criticism, and will typically state that in the notes if they are open to it. I do not; it's why I have a beta reader. I did have one reader post a public comment correcting me on a couple things (one of which was a misunderstanding on their part) and I politely requested that in the future any corrections should be sent to me privately, not publicly shared.

Wow...I think that's a good start. I really hope at least some of these tips will be useful to you! Thanks for reaching out, feel free to do so again, and if you ever want to send some pages my way you are more than welcome to! Just remember, be kind to yourself and have patience bc seriously…

[ddaehyeon]

kalopsia; s. wb + reader + k. ty

pairing: seo woobin + reader + kim taeyoung

genre: angst, fluff, hanahaki au

word count: 10.4k

warnings: blood, hospital visit, light cursing, mentions of sickness, death, anxiety, and alcohol/drinking

summary: in each passing day that you grew fonder of taeyoung, more petals would come out of your lips. your heart, a garden of the most beautiful flowers, only that it was also a reminder of your unrequited love. and with the withering petals, woobin can't bear to simply watch.

-- video teaser; story playlist; masterlist; taglist form 🥀

a/n: my longest fic so far! aaaa this is for a fic exchange with the amazing @arieswonjin​​. ilysm <3 i enjoyed writing this a lot and i hope we can do more exchanges in the future! also, special thanks to @starrycrvty​​ who helped me with the editing process and cheered me up while i was losing a braincell in the development of the scenes. you’re awesome and ily. <3

hope you will enjoy this ride. send me feedback through my ask/reblogs! i’ll appreciate it a lot :>

taglist: @bunnyseongmin​​

[ will edit this again in the future; ]

regardless of how the day was already ending, flowers seemed to not lose their vibrancy. whenever a gust of air blew by, it would dance along with the wind’s melody. you took a breath, the floral scent easing your body which was probably hugged with nothing but fatigue out of the ruthless writing sessions you gave yourself for hours.

a mélange of colors in the sky; the red hue engulfing the orange tint. it was funny how despite that war of colors, in the end, the sky will turn pitch-black with scattered twinkling stars.

sure, spring was one of the most beautiful seasons. but that small amount of fondness for the aforementioned season will never be enough to make you want to experience it for the whole year. life played favorites though— it was spring for you all year round.

you smiled to yourself, trying to shrug off the thought. good thing you weren’t in your room and the sidewalk wasn’t the quietest place to be at during this hour. it offered a space for distractions. most shops were closing, students were to go home from long hours of studying, workers with a weariness that yours couldn’t match walking to hubs for some sort of leisure activities. if you were in some kind of company work, you’d probably be in the same position. going for a drink or two with friends after working hours. but well, you weren’t.

instead of a bustling office requiring formal attire; you were usually in your pajamas, musing about life and writing about it through means of prose and poetry. a young published author who was known for having a great appreciation for flowers. in a few months, another book will be launched under your name. its spine holding all the papers inked by your love, not for flowers or anything else, but for a childhood friend who seemed to not have taken notice of the flower that began growing in your lungs— a rose.

reaching the convenience store, you contemplated which instant food would serve as your dinner tonight. ordered food seemed to have bored out your taste buds, a little change was needed. and to say, probably a more unhealthy choice. maybe a dosirak would do or a kimbap and peel sausage.

as you were to enter, a call of your name put your feet to a halt. you turned to look at the speaker. “oh hey, woobin?”

a weak smile graced his lips, opening the door for you. he spoke after the both of you had entered the store. “tired of ordered meals?”

“kind of,” you replied, a sigh punctuating your words. you walked up to the aisle of dosirak. the sight of it made you swiftly cross it out of your options. you wanted something else. “how about you?”

“craved for ice cream,” answered woobin who, unlike you, had made his mind in settling with a pint of almond ice cream.

grabbing some triangle kimbaps, you looked at him with a raised brow. “wouldn’t that harm your ever so majestic voice?”

if you made money through books, woobin earned his through singing. it ranged from covers to original song compositions. he was quite popular with all the ballad songs he covered that without a lie was a heart-melter. if home and serenity would be defined using a voice, woobin’s would be the perfect definition for it.

“not really.” a chuckle was heard from him as he watched you grab a cup of instant ramyun. “well, wouldn’t that harm your ever so wonderful brain?”

you shook your head but laughed at the remark. woobin had been your friend for quite a long time, probably one of the closest. light and playful banters seemed to have become a part of your usual talks.

walking towards the counter, you settled your items which the worker scanned quickly. the amount flashed by the small screen, and you pulled your wallet out to pay. woobin followed shortly.

“a healthy alternative after ice cream?” you asked, noticing a herbal medicine pouch being placed in his bag.

woobin hunched his shoulders up, and proceeded to go out of the store.

a soft breeze welcomed you as you stepped out. the sidewalk was no longer as busy as it was earlier and the sky was losing its colors bit by bit as if the flickering lights in the queued lampposts were sucking it all.

“so how is it coming out?” woobin asked as he walked beside you. your apartment and his were only a few blocks away. his apartment was inside a street, away from the main road filled with noises coming from horns and speeding cars, while yours was in a complex near the road. you liked watching people from up the balcony, it was like watching a film, only that everything that was happening was real and only the made-up dialogues of the strangers were sheer fiction.

“minor editings left,” you replied. “also, next week the possible art for the cover will be out. want to check it out with me?”

he didn’t reply right after as if he was mentally checking his schedule, weighing if he was free or not. though his answer indicated that the things he had to do had flexible deadlines. “sure, just tell me when.”

“i’ll call you once they message me about it.” a cough ended your sentence, you covered your mouth as you did so. something smooth touching your palm. it was happening… again.

“are you alright?” concern evident on woobin’s face, he went closer to you. his hand on your back, rubbing circles to ease your coughing.

but he was aware it would not be enough to stop it. a rub or any sort of medicine wouldn’t stop it. like how will those be enough to stop a flower from blooming in your lungs?

it was the reason why even though you admired the beauty of spring, you also disliked it.

flowers were in full bloom during spring. the way each petal was colored was pleasing to the eye. however, such beauty should have just stayed where they were supposed to be. on the ground, decorating the world with its vibrant color. it should only be there instead of clinging onto someone's lungs after failing to get their love returned.

hanahaki, a disease that causes someone to cough up flower petals when their love is one-sided.

there were different stages of it. at first, it was only a mere cough. something one would mistake for a regular cough. until petals come along with it on the next stage. followed by a mix of blood, acute chest pain, and shortness of breathing in the last.

two ways to resolve it. either undergo a surgery which will cost a fortune at the risk of wiping out not only your emotions but also the memory of all people you are close with or have your love reciprocated. inability to obtain any of the mentioned cures will result in the most unfortunate event. no more pain from the flower sprouting in your chest. no ache, coming from the bitter taste of being reminded every single night that your love wasn’t reciprocated— death.

“i’m alright.” it took quite a while before your coughing subsided. you were sure petals were already accumulated on your hand. bringing your hand down, you let go of the red petals. luckily, no blood. but you didn’t expect less. this disease had been giving you restless nights lately, worsening and worsening.

a sigh left woobin’s lips as he shook his head. “that’s not the look of someone alright for me.”

the rest of the walk was silent. woobin insisted on walking you home, to which you had no power to decline. even if you told him no, he still ended up doing so.

by the time you reached the front of your unit, night had already won the clash in the sky. the stars glimmering above at their triumph.

“don’t work up until late,” woobin reminded.

you smiled, wishing you could tell him that it wasn’t the writing that made you get less rest every evening. it was the rose that inhabited your lungs. “i will not.”

“here,” said woobin, handing you the bag of the things he bought earlier.

the ice cream was no longer of its same form as it was earlier. its mist soaked the insides of the plastic bag. “and why are you giving it to me?”

“just take it. you know in movies heartbroken people would eat ice cream as they mope around.”

the lighthearted remark made you laugh. woobin had his ways to make you feel better. “and what about the medicine?”

“you’re probably sad, but that won’t mean that you should not take care of yourself.” he was aware of your feelings for someone else. he was aware of the red roses in your chest. he was aware that your feelings weren’t reciprocated.

“makes sense.” you flashed him a smile, scrambling on your bag to take out one of the triangle kimbaps. the item tossed to his direction which he caught smoothly. “take that at least.”

“well, thank you?” he gazed at the food you gave him before returning the smile. “have a good night, y/n. call me if you need anything.”

you hummed as a response, watching woobin make his way to the stairs, descending afterward. another gust of wind passed by and you rushed to go inside. staring at the now melted ice cream, you shook your head. a laugh escaping your lips as you closed the door.

how long has it been? you thought.

collapsing on the bed, you stared at the ceiling. the coughing had already stopped, yet the burning pain in your chest remained.

what was the flower again?

a rose?

maybe the stabbing ache was caused by its thorns that came to hug your lungs. you sighed as if that would altogether pull out the suffocating sensation— of course, it wouldn’t. it would never.

a curt beep on your phone pulled you out of your cloudy thoughts, reaching for it to read the notification. a message from one of your friends which read,

it’s your debut book’s first anniversary today! congrats, y/n.

for a moment, your lips curled into a faint smile, so weak that it didn’t even last for a minute. sending a quick reply to show gratitude over the thought, you allowed yourself to drown over the same thoughts.

that book with inked poetry all meant to deliver a single message— your feelings for taeyoung. the words laced in each rhyme was a cover of the affection you had for him, and the petals you cough each night was his answer.

a childhood friend who you used to be neighbors with. he still lived under the comforts of his parents’ home, while you moved to live alone in an apartment, desperately seeking independence.

or maybe seeking for a way to not see his face every single day and be reminded that his favorite flower, a rose, had been blooming in your lungs.

the brightness taeyoung had never seemed to fade, his smile still carried sunlight of its own. a contagious one that would make anyone have the same smile (but maybe not as bright). his bubbliness was a comfort. whenever around him, the butterflies causing chaos in your stomach would make you forget about the evening ache he was subconsciously bringing.

taeyoung, ever since you were young, loved books and flowers. you preferred other things though, but somehow you found yourself conforming to what he liked. being the person you spent most of your time with, his interest became yours. whenever he would tell you about something he became inclined to, you would check it as quick, forcing yourself to like it. it was a repeated action that was implanted as a habit. in the process of trying to be his ideal person, your own identity was thrown away. a trap filled with nothing but thorns of his favorite flower.

shifting to your side, your eyes landed on the wall just above your working table. photographs of roses were stuck on it, along with verses other people might find painfully beautiful. you knew your words better though. its beauty was a mere delusion. hiding behind the pretty words were ugly cries— your reality.

another cough, a petal escaping from your lips. it danced in the air as it was freed, only to meet the cold floor of your room. with flowers blooming in the chest, you closed your eyes drifting to sleep. the pain no longer mattered as it was the usual sensation.

a soft instrumental had taken over your apartment. the sun was already up, its light filtering through the blinds. your potted plants were probably thankful for its generosity. you took a sip of your coffee, staring at the few words written in the new document reserved for a new manuscript. writing, or at least conceptualizing the main theme, of your next book was your top priority today. however, the continuous notifications coming from your close peers dragged you out of your bubble every single time.

with you celebrating the first anniversary of your debut book (which basically marked the day of your debut as a published writer), receiving messages was plain inevitable. your editor even asked if you’d be up for a drink later this night. an offer you turned down. silence and alone time this evening were everything you craved for.

putting your laptop on rest, you grabbed your own copy of withered roses, your book. it was silly how you decided to have perfectly blooming and lively roses as its cover when it contained the very title, your own withered roses hiding through beautiful verses.

flipping through the pages, you stopped on a certain poetry. undeniably, one of your favorites. it was one of the first poems that you wrote for this collection. grabbing a paper and a pen, you scribbled the words down, the same words still describing your situation perfectly. and maybe that was the reason why your condition was worsening.

you stuck the paper on the wall, just beside a photograph of a blue rose. for a moment, you stared at it, smiling at the words as if those were some kind of lost friends who rekindled with you. you smiled as if those were something that you should be smiling at.

three doorbells and a few knocks. a heavy sigh came out of your lips, tearing your eyes away from the poem. slow steps towards the door, the person on the other seemed rather impatient for the doorbell continuously made a sound. it was enough for another breath to escape the confines of your mouth.

swinging the door open, your eyes widened. the sight penetrating quickly to your senses and the sensation you hated the most overpowering you, your heartbeat loud. really loud. “taeyoung?”

for him to be able to give you the most wonderful feeling of warm cheeks and butterflies and still be able to poison you using his favorite flower lethal to your body, you wondered when it would end.

“it’s withered roses’ first anniversary!” his smile was a band-aid, too fleeting of a cure for you. he lifted a pot of cycnoches orchids, something that was probably from his parent’s flower shop. “here’s a gift for you.”

“thank you.” as he handed you the pot, you gave him enough space to enter your unit. placing it just beside the other plants you had, all coming from their shop, you turned to look at taeyoung. a pout appearing in your countenance. “you should have brought food.”

taeyoung scratched his head at your sudden words, a sheepish smile curving on his lips. “well, we can order.”

at the sight of a slightly flustered taeyoung, a string of laughter became your immediate response. “i was kidding.”

you went back to the couch to sit with taeyoung following you shortly. the music playing in your room had long ago stopped, something you only noticed after taeyoung came. after your awareness came to hug you once again.

his eyes wandered as if it was his first time in your unit. it was definitely not his first visit, to count how many times he’d been there was also impossible. just like how you frequented their flower shop, he was usually in your unit as well. maybe it was due to him being used to your company. childhood friends, former neighbors— inseparable, but in a manner that went nothing beyond romantic feelings. at least to his side.

glancing at him, you followed where his gaze was fixated on. it was focused on the wall that held photographs of roses and the poem you scribbled earlier from your book.

“wasn’t that the eighth poem in your book?” intrigued, he looked at you with a brow raised.

you didn't have to meet his gaze. a smile slowly crept out of your visage. it didn't hold an emotion though, more like a simple forced curve. "it is."

"i love it." it was a genuine remark, but somehow, instead of giving you a warm feeling, it did the opposite. standing up, he reached for the paper, detaching it from the wall. the words slipping out of his tongue as he read it out loud.

heat-haze; sunrays visible at the nighttime daydream under the cloud of deep distance built a sensation of unrequited affection innumerable actions-- satisfied, captured by mere existence. nevertheless, the heart was jinxed in a presence, a love, i cannot withdraw from.

as the final four lines were uttered, he looked at you in the eyes, a hint of gloom clouding his misty orbitals. he had the poem memorized, but it was only the words he had carved in his mind. the feelings sealed with it, unnoticed.

taeyoung was the reason why you began writing. a simple comment of his saying that you would make a good author and your words were all prettily laid out made you want to write.

or perhaps it was not the writing you were chasing for, rather the speaker who told you that he wished to see more of your writing.

for others, writing could be a form of escape. to be under a little spell that would pull someone out of their reality. you wished you were the same. you wished your writing wasn't your reality.

anywhere you go, you were surrounded by your reality. the potted plants you should not be taking care of if it wasn't for his interest in plants and flowers. the book that was published a year ago and the soon to be published one. the colors that accented your unit which he said was such a relaxing palette. the words in your head. the flower in your chest. it was the reality made out of nothing but the person you loved.

“wait.” taeyoung’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. he was peering over petals of red roses that were on your table.

it seemed like you forgot to clean it up earlier. well, you didn’t expect anyone to actually go to your house. such a realization was thought late.

“were you playing with roses?” taeyoung asked, frowning as he looked at it.

you’d consider that a stupid question, but taeyoung didn’t know a thing about your condition so you let it pass. there was no way in hell you’d tell him about it now. not yet. “yes.”

“so how was it?” the excitement and giddiness leaking in his tone as he plopped down next to you on the couch didn’t help. what was he even referring about? your hanahaki disease? what? as if hearing your question, he clarified his query, “does he love you?”

ah, the popular he loves me, he loves me not.

there was no need for that though, the petals you vomit each night was a clear answer. you smiled, leaning back to get seated more comfortably. “he doesn’t.”

the way those two words left your lips surprised you. no hint of hurt, sadness, or anything— it was laced with a calm tone as if retreating, surrendering, accepting. will it really be your fate?

taeyoung sighed, the smile he once had melting away. “don’t worry, it’s just a silly game anyway. the person you love probably loves you too.”

you turned to look at him. a mistake. kind eyes met yours, reassuring you of something you had already known for so long was false. there was no need to hang into that ray of hope when you were aware that it was not the case.

eyes glossy with the tears that never dared to fall, you offered him a tight-lipped smile. “thank you.”

he grinned, which you assumed was out of relief before he looked at your wall once again. “why use roses though? there are other flowers out there.”

“well, isn’t it the first flower you’d think of when you hear the word love?” you replied. “it means a lot more depending on its color, but in simple terms, it just means love and romance.”

“you seem to know a lot about it,” he remarked, not tearing his gaze away from the photograph. “why blue out of all colors?” he asked referring to the photograph you had on your wall.

“it stands for an impossible miracle.” a clear depiction of your situation. no word followed that sentence, and good thing taeyoung didn’t ask any further about why. maybe it was due to his perception that poetry writers had other symbolism hidden behind their verses, even when there was nothing and the message was just in front of their readers.

“roses are wonderful, aren’t they?”

not when they are blooming in your chest. not when its thorn embraces your lungs. not when it suffocates you. your thoughts were loud in your head. but you knew you can’t blame it for inhabiting your body. you can’t even have taeyoung blamed for it either. it was the universe’s fault for laying such a disease in humanity. “they truly are.”

“it’s my favorite,” taeyoung mused.

there was a smile that sat on your lips, a peck of gloom decorating its corners. “i know.”

how could you not when its petals were the ones that kept on coming out of your lips every evening?

a ringing coming from a device shattered the silence in your apartment. but this time, it wasn’t from yours. it was from taeyoung who was now about to leave your unit, his parents had called him to go and do his tasks in the flower shop. seemed like he had forgotten about it, considering that he’d been with you for almost an hour.

“take care and have fun for the rest of the day!” taeyoung ruffled your hair and left. his touch lingering.

your room suddenly felt empty. as if taeyoung had taken all the vibrancy it had after stepping out of it. taeyoung was your paradox— a home that housed nothing but emotions you shouldn’t regard as home, but you did. he was your home.

you coughed, a petal threatening to escape. the windpipe blocked, your chest tightening. a sorrowful smile was your only answer to the ache that was resurfacing. your gaze didn't falter, still locked on the photograph of the blue rose. to no one in particular, few words were whispered, “they are beautiful.”

“remind me again why i’m here with you?” woobin looked at the almost empty store; sleepwears displayed from the first showcase up to the last rack. it was a week after the first anniversary of your book, things had seemed to tranquil much more.

shopping during the working hours on weekdays was certainly one of the best things. the absence of people led to different advantages like having no long queue to the cashier, no people to deal with as you browse the clothes, and overall just serene shopping.

you didn’t mind it when a salesperson would go and ask you about what type or design you were looking for, they were probably getting bored having to stand for a long time and entertain just a few passing potential customers. the mall’s theme song was playing from a distant speaker, almost inaudible and muffled by the sweet piano music playing in the shop itself. keeping it up to the theme of the shop, if there was a bed in there, you’d probably be brought to sleep right after. something you weren’t sure to consider as a good aspect or bad aspect of the clothing store.

“well, you just finished posting another wonderful cover which hit a hundred thousand views in an hour, we must celebrate, right?” you replied as you picked up a pair of pastel plaid pajamas, checking the fabric quality to which you quickly marked as spandex.

woobin reached for the design next to what you picked up, eyeing it with less interest than you had. “but why are we buying pajamas?”

“because i need it.” a chuckle was heard from you after he let go of a sigh at your words. you stepped closer to him, peering over his shoulder to check the design he was checking.

“by the way,” he began, not wanting to ask more as he was aware of your love for comfortable clothes (pajamas being the top of it along with sweaters and hoodies). “i’m applying for a job in this pharmaceutical company located in another town as a medicinal chemist.”

“oh? the one you mentioned before?” you watched him go through another set of sleepwear.

it was a sudden reminder that before being known as the seo woobin who sang various songs in innumerable gigs and had built a name in the music side of youtube, he was the seo woobin who excelled in his major, organic chemistry. for years of him not applying for an actual job as a chemist anywhere and pursuing his dream career, that fact was swept out of your mind.

you met woobin in one of your electives— a chemistry class that you would probably have to retake only if he didn’t help you out. the limited slots in language classes were the ones you put your blame on, but it wasn’t completely that bad. after all, you had ended up making a good friend in the class you despised the most.

“are you going to quit singing?” worry was painted all over your face which earned a soft amused laughter from woobin. you adore his singing a lot, the comfort his mellifluous voice could bring was distinct, something you’d grown ever so fond of.

“you know, i just want to put my degree into proper use.” woobin smiled reassuringly as he tossed you a set of pajamas with the design he guessed was what you were searching for, the one with doodled roses decorating it from bottom to the top. “kind of had the urge to get a secured job.”

the clothing dumped to you went unnoticed as you fired off another question. “what about the album deal? i thought you already had one. what’s going to happen with that?”

“i will still sing.” there was no need to doubt woobin’s calm tone as he said those words. “don’t worry about it. i love singing and i’ll not stop doing it.”

“make sure to.” you walked towards another rack, finally noticing the pajamas woobin had thrown in your way earlier. staring at it for a moment, the initial thoughts about the flower easily came into your head. “this one’s cute. i’ll take it.”

unconvinced, woobin raised a brow at you. “are you sure you found it cute or there’s another reason behind you liking it?”

the other reason he was pertaining to was clear, enough to become a slap rather than a mere reminder. do you really like it or do you simply want the person you like to notice you for having something close to their favorite thing?

feeling lost to your own set of likes seemed like a normal thing. mind plagued with taeyoung’s interests that it mattered more than yours. at this point, you weren’t sure if you were doing it for him to like you back and finally get the fuzzy feeling of being loved back or you were simply desperate to stop the flowers from budding in your chest.

“i like it,” you answered after a long while of spacing out. you even nodded your head as if trying to convince yourself from a statement you weren’t sure whether to label as a lie or a truth.

“if you say so.” an indistinct sigh came across woobin, subtly shaking his head in disbelief. he didn’t go deeper into the topic though, instead uttered some words that made a bright smile grace your lips. “go and choose whichever you want. it’s on me today.”

wearing the new pair of a loose shirt and pajama, you gazed at your reflection. a curve spotted on your lips, satisfied with the new purchase. demeanor dropping as a familiar sensation crawled up to your senses. the calm night was taken aback when your chest began tightening. a petal quickly rising, stuck on your throat afterward as you tried to hold it in. however, it was a failed attempt. the urge strong that you had to run towards the bathroom to release all the petals of the vivid red rose that nurtured in your body, watered with nothing but unreturned affection.

just like any other night, the sickness came to do its visit. its terrible reminder playing in your mind. the blood that mingled with the petals was hard to discern as they were colored in the same hue; it tasted different though.

a ringing in your head as your vision started to blur, not noticing how tears had formed in your eyes as the pain emerged to be stronger than it usually was. the intensifying ache wasn’t the only one that made your tears fall. all your unnoticed efforts, regardless of how big they were, were the ones that brought salty tears. your knees buckled, allowing you to meet the ground unceremoniously. it was getting harder to breathe and the cold bathroom tiles were your only company.

it was a twisted melody. in each cough, petals would escape. it didn’t even take a long time for you to be surrounded by a sea of red petals. what a sickening view, you thought. how do people regard roses as something so beautiful?

a memory.

“dear, taeyoung is outside, waiting for you.” a few knocks on the door accompanied your mother’s call.

it was a hot summer, the sun giving no mercy with its ray as if angry with how it was neglected during the cold seasons. with a few remaining days before the start of a new quarter, you probably had spent most of your time in your room. oftentimes will you go out only at the call of a childhood friend.

“y/n.” as if stepping out of your thoughts, taeyoung had your name wrapped by his cheerful voice. “mom made homemade ice cream. come on, get out of your room already.”

if your own mother wasn’t able to pull you out of your room, taeyoung was. your feet quick to move as you checked on your reflection by the mirror, practicing a smile and some silent dialogues. all to which you weren’t really able to show when you opened the door. a faint blush crept on your cheeks as soon as your gaze landed on the bright smile taeyoung had on his own. butterflies flew free in your stomach, heart pounding.

maybe it was the way taeyoung would talk to you with an unmatched enthusiasm even if your words make no sense. maybe it was because of the vibrancy he had all around him that simply could bring comfort to anyone he was with. maybe it was due to the fact that he had been with you since you were a kid.

or maybe it was just because he was him, kim taeyoung, that your crush began budding as a love. and as soon as it did, his favorite flower, a rose, was caught in your lungs during middle school.

occupied by the sensation, your mind didn’t attend to the continuous doorbells ringing in your apartment. in a few, the door was opened, rushed footsteps along with your name uttered in sheer concern echoed in your unit. with the air knocked out by the relentless flower, from red your vision turned pitch black.

when dusk fell, woobin was already in the hospital with a drink in his hand, which was meant to be given to you. he’d been going back and forth to the hospital and his apartment to bring you food and some other items you needed.

the scene he witnessed last night was still fresh in his mind, the panic lingering. on your cold bathroom floor, you laid unconscious with petals of roses surrounding your figure. he was swift to get help, which ended up with you having to stay for almost a day in the lonely ward. your room making you feel sicker.

“oh, you’re back?” serim, the head nurse and a close friend of woobin, said as he walked towards the other.

woobin nodded, tracing the track he’d been stepping into since this morning. it was as if he could easily go to your room even with eyes closed. serim followed from behind and before he could say a word, woobin had already found your room empty. finally, he offered the nurse attention. “where’s y/n? already discharged?”

“yes, they just went to talk with their doctor for a few more reminders.” serim shook his head disapprovingly. “they should stay longer, but they seem like a very busy person.”

“y/n should just follow their doctor.” a sigh punctuated woobin’s sentence.

“and you should too,” said serim.

woobin began walking his way back to the nurse station reception to wait for you. “my case is different.”

“you’re slowly losing your voice because of your own sickness.” serim’s sigh was way heavier than woobin’s, his orbitals painted with worry. being one of woobin’s closest friends, he knew all about it. “orchids are blooming in your lungs, how are you different?”

a glare was darted to serim’s direction which became woobin’s sole reply since they both saw you approaching them. serim hunched his shoulders up, shaking his head once again before walking away.

“thank you for taking care of me,” you told woobin who handed you the drink he bought outside.

“of course,” woobin said, leading the way out.

there weren't a lot of people in the lobby. only a few were there, either the nurses turning for their night shifts or the relatives of those people staying in the hospital for the night.

“it’s getting worse, isn’t it?” woobin’s words slowed down your pace, your head turned to him as he continued. “shouldn’t you start trying to move on and finding someone who can actually love you back?”

“what do you mean?”

woobin shrugged. “it seems like it’s the only way for you to be properly healed.”

yes, moving on and falling for someone else was a considered cure as well. a change of feelings could remove the flower naturally. but doing so was easier said than done.

a sad smile became evident on your brim. how could you do that? you thought. “i can’t just fall in love with someone like it’s nothing, woobin.”

“give me a chance then.”

woobin’s words were powerful enough to make your feet stop from moving, to catch your breath and make it halt. it can’t be. you looked at him confused, wishing that you misunderstood what he said. you wished that it would be his regular sentences as he tried to make you feel better. you wished what you were thinking was a mere thought, an idea, a false gut feeling. “woobin?”

it was a question that didn’t need any elaboration. the simple call of his name with such perplexed tone was enough as a query. the same gloomy smile on his lips matched what you had earlier, accompanied by his faint chuckles. “yes,” to your horror, he confirmed. he let go of a breath, something that gave him a boost to finally utter the words he’d been meaning to say. “i’m in love with you and all i want is for the flowers in your chest to stop blossoming.”

“that means…”

to experience the same thing you had been experiencing. to give someone the same taste of your suffering. to plant a flower in someone’s chest and water it every day as you were failing to return their provided affection. it was something you didn’t wish to do, an extremely unfavorable idea which reminded you of how the universe had been unfair from the very start.

“yes, and they aren’t beautiful.” a tight-lipped smile became apparent on his countenance as he stared at the glass doors of the hospital. a few more steps and both of you will be out of the place the two of you frequented on different days, but for the same means— a fleeting cure for the ache caused by hanahaki. “the pain we’re both carrying out of unrequited love. it isn’t beautiful, y/n.”

a lump in your throat stopped any possible reply from coming out of your lips. you wanted to apologize, but an apology from taeyoung wasn’t the thing you’d want to hear from him after you confess and you assumed such wouldn’t give comfort to woobin as well. an apology wouldn’t be enough when you were already striping away someone with their lives.

rather untimely, the door opened, revealing taeyoung. he was holding a basket of flowers, probably for some kind of delivery. with hinted concern, he walked towards you and woobin. “what are you doing here?”

“stomach ache.” regardless of your mangled thoughts, it was a surprise that you were able to respond as soon. it was as if such sickness was a practiced lie.

“is that so?” taeyoung looked at woobin to confirm and the older just nodded not wanting to speak more. he turned to you, his worry dropping a few levels, but was still obvious. “let me just bring this flower to a friend and i’ll walk you home. will that be alright?”

you looked at woobin, silently asking if he would be okay with that. it was such a silly act, of course, he would be against it. but what can he do? just like him, the person you had grown fond of hasn't reciprocated your feelings yet. both of you probably wishing the same thing— for the flowers to wither and be gone. for the restless nights to end. to be loved back. the only difference was woobin was so focused on you that he had forgotten about his condition which was worsening at the same rate as yours.

he patted your shoulder. “sure, i need to head somewhere else anyway. get home safely?”

“i will, you too, woobin.” you gave woobin a smile, guilt sitting in your stomach which was continuously twisting.

woobin weakly mirrored the feature before turning his back to you and taeyoung. as he was stepping out of the establishment, he looked at the twinkling stars, hoping this night would be kinder. but he was certain he’d be the one coughing out orchids tonight, probably worse than your roses.

the stars from above watched you and taeyoung walk on the now empty sidewalk. even without the illumination coming from the lampposts, it was all so bright. all in gratitude for the moon which served as a ball of shining light in the clear night sky.

"you've been sick since we were kids, but you never told me what with." taeyoung broke the silence, uncertain if he should go further. “was it really because of stomach ache earlier?”

a chill ran down your spine, making you inwardly shiver. that wasn’t the talk you were so ready to face. and after what happened last night, you can’t simply bring another lie. however, telling taeyoung everything wasn’t something you planned to do as well. afraid that rejection would become the final straw.

taeyoung stopped dead on his tracks, looking at you with nothing but sheer concern. “is there anything bothering you?”

you gave him a smile which was obviously forced. “don’t worry about it.” you urged him to continue to walk and he did, but just as you thought that you were already safe from his questions, he asked another.

“it’s not a stomach ache wasn’t it?” hands on his back, his gaze was fixated on the road. “what was it, y/n?”

maybe it was time to tell taeyoung about it? maybe— “hanahaki.” the words subconsciously slipped out of your tongue.

“what?” surprised by the mention of the disease, his eyes were wide when he whipped his head to your direction. “you mean… your love is unrequited?”

taeyoung was quick to catch the gist of the disease. it was pretty much a popular sickness that had probably made some of his other friends suffer. the only thing he wasn’t quick to get was… who your feelings were for.

“woobin doesn’t like you back?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts which was purely of practicing the possible explanations if he ended up recognizing your feelings for him. and apparently, he didn’t.

it was your turn to shoot him a look. “what?”

“don’t you like woobin?” he averted his gaze and it trailed back to the road. “i mean the two of you seem like really close friends and you’re together most of the time.”

you didn’t know whether you should be relieved or not. but since you were still unprepared to offer any explanation, you just went with the flow. a bitter smile coming to your lips. your head had his name on your sentence, regardless of how you uttered another man’s name. “yes, i like woobin. but it seems like he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“maybe you should… try moving on?”

the way taeyoung suggested the same thing made you laugh, confusing the person beside you. to move on, huh? was that what the universe wanted you to do? to move on? a smile lingered on your visage, as you stepped on the stairs with taeyoung following you behind. it was just funny how he thought you were in love with woobin, when in fact the flower he adored the most was living in your lungs. that he was the person you were in love with, not any other person.

stopping at the front step, the worry that sat on his orbitals didn’t waver. the look asking if you’d be alright tonight— you already knew the answer. “take care, okay? if you need anything, just call me. good night.”

as soon as you closed the door, it began. the coughing that seemingly just waited for you to step into your unit came rushing. a petal waving in the air before meeting the ground. “i need your love, taeyoung. i badly need it.”

the smell of freshly done pancakes wafted up to your bed, a few noises coming from the kitchen followed. it was a gentle alarm that pushed you to wake up and get out of your bed. too groggy, a foot still on the dream you were having, you didn’t think that whoever was in the kitchen could be a thief or anything. well, who in their proper mind would cook food for the owner of the house if they were only to snatch things after?

a few days ago, you had an extreme case of hanahaki, something that led you to stay in the hospital overnight. after that, it had seemed to subside or at least be more gentle during the evening, resulting in more hours of sleep.

“woobin?” you called his name as you watched him turn off the stove, placing the fluffy pancakes onto a plate. there was already a hot chocolate ready for you to drink. you didn’t even question how he got inside. probably jungmo, the landowner, gave him the code to your room. oh, talk about privacy.

his smile was as warm as the morning sunrays. “good morning.” his voice was a little hoarse, normally you wouldn’t really pay attention to that. when he recorded songs too much in a day, he’d end up with such. but now that you knew he was experiencing hanahaki, a question hung in your head. was it because of the coughing? your thoughts dropped at the sound of his voice, still mellow regardless. “i’ve cooked you breakfast.”

“don’t you have work to do?” you asked, remembering how during the past days he’d been telling you about his new work— the slot in that pharmaceutical company as a medicinal chemist. you dragged a chair before occupying it, looking at him as he placed all the things he used in the sink. a curve became visible on your lips as your eyes fell to what he prepared. it was just pancakes, but it was woobin’s pancakes. he was such an amazing cook, you could vouch for that. “thank you by the way.”

“work? ah yeah.” he took the seat adjacent to yours, a cup of coffee in his hands. he grinned at you and you swore, your heart was in ultimate chaos when you heard his next words. “i took on the job of taking care of you for free starting today.”

sunlight filtered through the glass door of the flower shop, highlighting the wide variety of spring flowers. ranunculus, tulips, and calla lilies were all displayed along with other non-seasonal plants. there weren't a lot of customers coming, given that there were flowers available to be picked up in some public gardens. regardless, there were still a few who would come and get flowers arranged for some special occasions. but then again, it was just morning. it was rather too early to judge the possible count of customers later.

“jungmo’s coughing out petals now,” allen, one of the workers in the flower shop. said.

taeyoung looked at him, pausing his actions of tying a yellow ribbon in the bouquet of tulips. with a brow raised, he asked, “hanahaki?”

putting the freshly done arrangement of peonies, allen tapped on the counter which called the attention of the delivery man. he pointed out the card which contained the address and watched the other go out to deliver the item. dragging a stool to sit on, he stretched his arms. “seems to be. he’s coughing out petals of his crush’s favorite flower, crocus. i don’t think it’s a mere crush now though.”

“oh, so the flower that blooms in a body experiencing hanahaki would be the favorite flower of the person they like?” taeyoung asked as he finished the bouquet he was working on. he retrieved stems of roses and cut them nicely, removing the thorns and excess leaves.

“yes,” allen replied. “you like roses right?”

taeyoung only nodded, a memory alighting in his head. it can’t be—

“that means the person who likes you, but ends up with a one-sided love would end up having roses in their chest,” allen continued, causing taeyoung’s hand to stop from moving. the younger’s eyes fixated on the collection of red roses in his hands.

“it’s my favorite,” taeyoung mused.

there was a smile that sat on your lips, a peck of gloom decorating its corners. “i know.”

the flower growing in your chest was his favorite flower, roses?

it was him all this time?

right at that moment, there was one thing taeyoung would want to address himself as. an idiot. realizations came crashing to him like a powerful wave that held no mercy. it was ice cold, his body freezing at each thought that his mind welcomed.

the petals he found on your desk weren't there because of a silly game of he loves me, he loves me not. it was the petals you coughed out and forgot to clean.

“are you okay?” allen asked, momentarily snapping taeyoung out of his daze.

the twisting on taeyoung stomach was unbearable. his heart racing not with flutters, but rather with anxious thoughts. he was the cause of your pain?

with an almost inaudible voice, taeyoung let out of his horror. “y/n likes me.”

continuous taps on the keyboard, words appearing on the screen only for the flow to stop with punctuation. in sync, the doorbell rang. you no longer wondered who it was. it had always been him.

you stood up and shuffled towards the door, opening it before welcoming the male with a warm curve in your face. “it’s lunch already?”

woobin nodded, handing you a bag of still hot dishes he cooked probably not more than an hour ago. he followed you as you made your way to the dining area. when the male said he’d be taking care of you starting that specific breakfast, he stuck to his words, visiting you almost every day. the only exception was when he had to meet a producer. his own album was in the process of being finalized.

you placed the bag down and woobin walked towards your cupboard. where to find the things was already memorized. it was as if he was living in the very unit.

“so how’s your morning?” he asked as he placed two plates on the table.

“woke up a bit late, but i was able to finish the last set of poetry i’ve been meaning to write!” the spark in your eyes was a lot brighter than the past days. it was easily contagious as woobin found himself having the same amount of glee. “i’ll print the last parts and let you read, wait.”

woobin shook his head, a smile crossing his brim as he watched you go to your workspace to do what you said. as he finished setting up your lunch, he took a seat and waited for you. just like you, woobin was experiencing fewer symptoms. his voice was no longer that raspy and he was able to post new song covers almost every week regardless of his current busy schedule with other recordings.

“here!” with unwavering enthusiasm, you extended your hand for him to reach the printed papers. you sat on the seat across him, gazing at the food which only made your mouth water. eyes already feeding off the sight of the meat dishes.

“this is quite interesting,” woobin remarked. “is this the last one?”

you nodded at his words when he showed you the last page. “i figured that it could be the best way to end it.”

“it sure does.” woobin served you by putting meat on the top of your rice. “eat up.”

just like the past days, you enjoyed lunch with woobin. a few talks here and there, though most of the time the two of you were silent. not the terrible kind of silence, but a good one. something comforting. and maybe that kind of silence was all you needed.

after the meal, the two of you sat on the couch. the television served as background noise as you run down the things you have to do this afternoon.

“you seem to be happier the past days, did you get yourself another contract?” woobin asked once you were done telling him where to drive you today, the flower shop and to your editor’s place.

“i do?” you caught sight of the lone photograph of roses on your wall. the poetry that accompanied it once was now resting on your table. “i haven’t been coughing recently.” your cheerfulness evident when your eyes wrinkled into crescents as you turned your head towards the direction where woobin was sitting. “maybe he’s starting to like me!”

a soft beam hugged woobin’s visage, contented with the result you were having. for your own flower to stop blooming, that was all he wished for. his mind got him best though, speaking without much thought as he eyed the last poem you wrote once again. “or maybe you’re starting to like him less.”

blinking in confusion, woobin handed you back the printed papers you gave him earlier. it was on the last page. the words were probably a clear indication of your feelings.

zest gone. pen dropped. book closed. lock kept. no word survived.

those words weren’t the most gleeful of words, but it carried freedom. something you’d been wishing you could get out of taeyoung’s labyrinth of roses. something you never knew would finally come to you.

“right?” woobin pulled you out of your own thoughts. “i’ve been coughing less as well and i can guarantee that you’re the only one i like.”

“that means…?”

“you’re slowly moving on, y/n.” woobin gave your head a light pat. his beam growing warmer as he looked at you. “you’re moving on.”

before going to the place where you were to meet your editor, you asked woobin to stop by the flower shop. knowing your editor, she’d probably love some dahlias and irises.

upon entering the shop, the same floral scent you had been accustomed to since you were younger embraced you. however, instead of taeyoung greeting you, the expression in his face— wide eyes after a gasp— was a little perplexing. you raised a brow at him, stepping closer to the counter with woobin following you from behind.

“dah—”

“can we have a moment?” taeyoung’s question interrupted your own set of words.

with a head tilted to the side, you didn’t make an effort to hide your confusion. the seemingly forced smile he had, which was quite too awkward for your liking was not a help at all. you turned to look at woobin, asking if it would be alright for him to wait. “will it be okay?”

“sure.” woobin shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant as he could. something he was successful in doing so. “i’ll buy you a drink while i wait. just send me a message if you’re done.”

“thank you, woobin.” and with those words said, you watched woobin leave the establishment. as soon as he did, your stomach sunk. there was no one else in the flower shop, it seemed like the other staff had already left.

taeyoung gestured to you to sit on an empty stool next to the counter, but you declined. instead, you leaned to it, urging him to speak what he wanted to talk about. he wasn’t the kind to be hesitant with such, but now, it was as if his tongue was tied in hundreds of knots and words can’t just be delivered.

“you’re experiencing hanahaki, right?” a stiff start. not only you, but taeyoung could feel how unnatural it sounded. no cheeky grins, no bright tone. it was flat and dripping with nervousness you weren’t aware taeyoung could be under the state of. “how are you?”

“i’m alright.” you chuckled at his words, letting loose of the already tensed atmosphere. as much as you were nervous for what was to come, you didn’t want it to spread on your formerly cheerful mood. “come on, taeyoung. i’m not going to be mad or anything.”

it partially helped taeyoung who had a small smile on his visage. but his eyes were still unable to meet yours as he locked his gaze on something else, the flowers healthily blooming inside the shop. “you were coughing out… roses, right?”

you hummed as a reply. finally taking the offer to sit. “yes, your favorite.”

“that means that you like me?” taeyoung took the seat next to your stool.

surprisingly, instead of worrying about how your little secret got figured out, you had an opposite feeling. you were relieved. there was no anxiety about him giving you the possibly worst rejection, no concern about how he could possibly shatter a thorned heart.

whatever made him realize such a thing, you were thankful. at least you no longer have to go through excessive explanations.

but there was something you would want to clarify.

“i used to like you a lot,” you said, giving an emphasis to the phrase: used to. a relieved sigh left your lips, satisfied with how everything was happening. it wasn’t as bad as you imagined. “you don’t have to worry now though, i’m gradually moving on.”

“still. you had to suffer from that for years,” he trailed. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay taeyoung.” your tight-lipped smile turned into a genuine one. the moment you shifted your gaze to look at taeyoung, you met his eyes. regardless of the pain it brought you, there was in no way you saw yourself blaming taeyoung. you liked him. and that summed it up. “your brightness was a blessing and never did i regret liking you despite the thorns and petals brought by it.”

his slightly soaked eyes were an indication of his former worry, which was slowly being washed away by a good amount of reassurance. “i’m glad.”

“you no longer have to worry about the roses, taeyoung.” stripping down the photographs on your wall for the past days, you replaced them with other photographs. you were sure the delusion was coming to an end. yes, the roses were indeed beautiful. but its thorn wasn’t as astonishing. “it’s withering.”

a stray tear slipped out of your eye and taeyoung didn’t only catch the tear, his arms were wrapped around you in such a warm hug. you were sure no petals would come out of your lips again. the warmth that embraced your body conveyed a closing home.

it’s time to move out and find a home that has no garden.

you no longer despised the spring. the beautiful flowers surrounding the town were no longer catching distasteful looks from you. your lungs free from spring. hand wrapped around woobin’s, the warm rays of the remaining afternoon sunlight filtered through the thick leaves of the trees the two of you would pass by.

another book was published, all containing the last words for your former muse. the title didn’t hide anything, quite an obvious choice: kalopsia.

three times a week you would go out for a book signing while woobin, now your boyfriend, would fetch you every time. he was busy himself with the recording of his album which was to be released by the end of the month. but he never missed going to the venue where your book signing would take place. by now, he probably had about nine signed copies of your book.

“you experienced hanahaki as well, right?” you asked woobin as you passed by a shop that had orchids hanging on the wall. petals of lush yellow, pink and purple decorating it.

woobin chuckled, taken aback by your unexpected question. “i did.”

“how was it?”

“it was weird. i mean coughing out petals so suddenly.” he looked at you, only to see your furrowed brows. something that made him laugh once again. “what do you expect me to answer?”

“that made you realize that you like me?”

“don’t be silly. even before the first petal left my lips, i knew i already liked you.” a contented smile graced his brim. even before that, the way his heart would thump in his chest as if it had run a marathon, the way a dumb smile would hang on his lips once he saw you, the way he would be subconsciously adoring you while you were busy writing, the way he wanted to be beside you, the way he wished to hold you closer— it all happened before a petal of orchid escaped the confines of his mouth.

a faint blush became apparent on your cheeks, giving it such a cute color. “and up until now you still like me…”

“correction, it’s liked. past tense,” woobin said, laughing at how your expression shifted. he took a big step and stopped right in front of you, he turned to face you with his hand still holding yours. “now, i love you.”

the weather wasn’t as hot since the sun was preparing for the twilight, but your cheeks were. it was accompanied by the wild flutters in your stomach. letting go of woobin’s hand (a reflex to hide how flustered his words got you), your ears were enveloped by his sweet, sweet chuckle. you walked past through him in such rushed footsteps, a peal of laughter escaping your lips as you did so. “i can’t believe you had to say that in that way.”

however, you were not even that far from him when woobin caught you. your steps halted when he locked you in a back hug, giving your cheek a light peck which simply made it more flushed. “i love you more than you’d ever know,” he carefully whispered to your ear.

you chuckled at the gestures, his words tickling you. regardless of how playful it seemed to be, you knew woobin was dead serious with it. he detached himself from you, only to hold your hand once more and walk beside you.

glancing at your interlaced fingers, you leaned your head to his shoulder. “i love you too, woobin.”

“i love you so much, y/n,” he replied, gently squeezing your hand.

to be able to look at the flowers without thinking about how they budded in your body, to rest every evening without worrying about the petals disrupting your serene night, to be right next to the person you love and loves you, there was nothing else you could wish for.

the flowers in your chest had long ago stopped blooming. it went the same way with woobin. but little did you know... orchids started blooming on someone else’s body, slowly growing on the chest of the person who once caused you to have roses hugging your lungs.

and just like how you first found those roses beautiful, taeyoung thought those orchids were too.

[arse-crack-thistle]

gifts

rwrb and the five love languages | part two

in which june struggles to have a nice valentine’s date with nora

June never expected to care this much about a stupid holiday like Valentine’s Day, but here she is, practically renovating the apartment to give her girlfriend a perfect night. She strings LED lights around the entire living room ceiling and uses Command hooks to drape the sheer, white Ikea curtains she bought on sale months ago in preparation for this. The lights glow pink through the curtains, making the usually neutral-toned living room appear like Aphrodite’s palace. June’s moved the coffee table into her room and replaced it with a fluffy blanket and a picnic set-up to rival TikTok lesbians.  All she needs now is Nora, if only she weren’t stuck at school.

The texts say, Will be late! Data mining for the gods! [Monet X Change gif] I want to be home with you though. Will bring noodles! And chocolate! Scratch that, I ate the chocolate. Sorry.

June knows she shouldn’t be annoyed because Nora has no idea what she’s coming home to. She also knows who she got into a relationship with—a brilliant mind that’s constantly moving parsecs a minute and has a hard time communicating her feelings. June has to remind herself that Nora loves her even if she doesn’t always show it.

That’s what tonight is for. It’ll give them time to slow down and just be together. Break the routine. Talk or not talk. She doesn’t expect it to be mushy or obnoxious—June isn’t a super, flowery romantic herself—but she does want another sentimental moment to hold onto forever.

Like the night of the 2020 election over a year ago. After Alex and Henry slipped away and everyone else was celebrating in their own groups, Nora pulled June into a storage closet at the venue and kissed her point blank, leaving no questions in her mind that their dabbles the months before meant something more than spectacular.

Or like six months ago when Nora asked her if she wanted to move in with her. She didn’t do anything particularly special, but she slammed her laptop shut while June was throwing on one of her sweatshirts and asked her to stay—to take the second bedroom because Nora needs space sometimes—but to stay with her because she was her favorite person. June answered with a happy “yes,” and Nora got up and kissed her. They didn’t talk much more about it; June just packed up her room at the White House and let the world think they were very best friends.

June pours a glass of wine and waits on the couch, flipping through social media. A few hours ago, her brother posted a picture from the Valentine’s gala he and Henry threw for the London queer youth center. Alex, Henry, Bea, Catherine, and even Philip and Martha hold champagne flutes with cheeky smiles on their faces. The POTUS account has a sweet yet posed picture of her mother and Leo. She likes everything she sees, from the various celebrities she follows to the photos she’s tagged in by fans. The time on her phone reminds her Nora’s now over an hour late.

She texts her, Home soon?

Ten minutes later her phone dings. Need more time. Almost done!

You are aware it’s Valentine’s, yes? And that we had plans?

Yes!!!! But flexible plans, right? Not like we can’t eat noodles and make out later. Will leave soon though. Promise.

I got food covered. Just get home please.

June sighs. She thought she made it clear this morning that they deserved a night with no distractions. God, they need to talk; she’s afraid to, but nothing will get better if she doesn’t say anything and if they don’t try.

The charcuterie board spread she copied off of Pinterest has been sitting out for a while so she moves it from the floor to the fridge. “Soon” for Nora could mean an hour. Empty coffee mugs line the sink. An open pack of weed gummies sits on the counter, hardening. Binders of paperwork and schoolwork collect on the kitchen table. There’s so much Nora in here. June redecorated the living room and kitchen when she moved in, but Nora’s managed to touch everything.

She smiles. If this were Alex, she’d be pissed at the mess, but it’s Nora. The beautiful, erratic mess that is Nora. The girl who can have four different shows on at once and can still get shit done. The girl who always burns pancakes when she tries to cook breakfast for June. The girl who never fails to kiss her first.

June won’t lose her. So she sits down on the floor, runs her fingers over the fleece, and waits. And drinks more wine.

Sometime later, when a key turns in the lock, she downs the last sip in her glass and sets it down. Some old love songs play from her phone, the ones she and Nora love to make fun of. She hears her girlfriend curse when her key gets stuck, and then she bursts through the door and catches herself before she could slip on the hardwood.

“I know you said you got food covered, but I got noodles any—Whoa! You did all of this?” Nora walks into the living room with takeout bags in her hands and stares, mesmerized, at the ceiling. Her contacts must’ve been bothering her because she has on her back-up glasses.

“Hi. Happy Valentine’s Day,” June says and reaches for Nora’s hand to pull her down.

“I’m sorry, June. I had no idea. I thought we both hated this holiday, so tonight wasn’t that big of a deal. But this—this is beautiful,” Nora says, having a hard time meeting June’s eyes.

“Thanks.” June rubs Nora’s hand with her thumb. “And this isn’t really about the holiday. I just wanted to give something nice to you—to us—just us. With no distractions.”

The strings from “At Last” by Etta James play from the phone. The curtains billow from the air blowing out the vent. As much as she hates to ruin the moment, June has to start the conversation.

But Nora takes a deep breath and talks first. “I know I’m a bit all over the place but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I just have a lot going on.”

“I know, but sometimes it feels like you don’t care about us as much as I do. It feels like an afterthought to you,” June says.

“That’s not true, June! Come on! You know me.” She grabs June’s other hand and squeezes.

She squeezes back. “You don’t act with feelings in mind, but I know you have them. And I know it’s hard for you, but I need you to share them with me more. I need a reminder that you care every once in a while.”

Nora’s quiet. She uses her arm to wipe her eyes, knocking her glasses off.  “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

June’s chest collapses. She wraps Nora up in her arms. “I’m sorry, Nor. I don’t mean you’re not enough for me. I love you so much. I—”

“No, I understand. I just—I need help with that. I need you to tell me when you need more—maybe not after the fact like now but—”

June laughs and pulls away. “You’re right. I have a stewing problem. I just assume you’ll eventually get it.”

“Yeah, don’t assume that.” Nora laughs too—the big kind that shows all of her teeth. “Reign me in when I’ve been off for too long. And know it’s not on purpose. I’m seriously spiraling in my own head the majority of the time.”

“Ha! And a hot head it is too.”

They both pause and look into each other’s eyes. And bust out into laughing fits. June makes a fart sound with her mouth, and Nora tackles her. They rumble around on the blanket for about forty seconds before June’s wine glass tips over and surprisingly bounces instead of shattering.

The girls take that as an opportunity to stop and pour some more glasses of wine. Nora preps the takeout while June brings the charcuterie board back to the indoor picnic. Nora changes the music to some weird techno shit, but June snatches the phone. They compromise with One Direction, which makes no sense since 1. June only knows their last album and 2. Nora definitely remembers the story of June turning down the advances of one Niall Horan when she did the daytime talk show circuit after her book deal was announced.

Either way, they stuff their faces and end up cuddled on the floor.

Nora interrupts the moment. “Before we get to sexy time—"

“Jesus Christ.”

“I just wanted to give you something. I would’ve saved it for your birthday, but I can get you something else.” She pops up from the floor and jogs to her bedroom. When she reemerges, she’s carrying a bunched-up blanket. “I didn’t have time to properly wrap it because—you know, you weren’t going to get it yet—although, it probably wouldn’t’ve been wrapped later either—but anyways, happy Valentine’s Day.”

She crouches down and hands over the present. She smiles and bops up and down in anticipation. June unwraps the blanket and sees a book.

It’s one of those photobooks you can get at Walgreens, and on the cover, it reads, “Catalina June Claremont-Diaz and Nora Elizabeth Holleran are NOT good friends…” June flips it over. “They’re fucking GIRLFRIENDS!” Inside is page after page of pictures as early as the day they first met and as recent as New Year’s Eve a month ago. A lot of candid pics they take of each other—Nora’s favorites. A lot of sleepy, cuddle pics—June’s favorites. It’s so perfect.

“Nora—this is—wow.” She feels the tears coming. No one has given her anything like this before.

“I’ll be better—”

“So will I.”

“No matter where my head’s at, I’m always thinking of you—just 50 million other things as well,” Nora says and cups her chin.

June leans in. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nora kisses her, and everything wound up in June relaxes. Her body is so warm. “Best Song Ever” starts playing.

Cue sexy time.

check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part three, part four, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)

so this could be for quality time or gifts, but i decided to go with gifts since i had no other ideas for it! it’s definitely not my love language (quality time for the win!) but i had to write something lol. so i made it sapphic bc everything gay is better! <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests

[snickiebear]

yo nadia <3333 i'm bored in my online classes and u reblogged the questions thingy at the right time lmao, so get ready: 1, 4, 5, 9, 10, 17, 23, 24, 28, 30!!!, 34, 38, 39, 40 (the intimacy of being understood) (imma stop here lol) (also i'm sorry u're not feeling well, ily and hope u'll feel better soon!! <33333)

ELE ILY. (and thank you, i’m stayin home today cause,,, yeah. i appreciate you sm.) you’re the literal best, i adore you. 

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

The first fanfiction i read was for The Lunar Chronicles when I was like 11?? and it was 100% on accident and it scarred me because it was a hardcore porn one with a period kink and i was like WHAT IS THIS??? OH MY GOD???? LMAOOOOO i didn’t pick it back up until i was 13-14 and really got into the Fairy Tail fandom. I still reread my favorites on ff.net cause i love them. 

As for writing, I wrote a horrible, terrible x-men fanfiction when I was twelve. (my friend still brings it up and REFUSES to delete it so it still gets comments and views, that shit HAUNTS ME ELE.) then tried again for Fairy Tail, posted like two chapters before taking it down cause i wasn’t really feeling it. And then I posted The Intimacy Of Being Understood and here we are. 

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

OMGG okok 

@murd3rm1ttens ‘s The Problem How Time Works IF YOU HAVENT READ THIS YOU GUYS NEED TO HOP ON IT ASAP. MITTEN’S WRITING SO SO SO SO GOOD. SAKURA AND INO ARE TOTAL BADASSES. KAKASHI IS A SIMPPPP. ITS SO FUCKING GOOD. 

@mouseymightymarvellous ‘s We Were Screaming In Color (Only A Possibility) yes, yes I KNOW. i always point into mousey’s direction but i WILL always advocate that everyone reads her fics, they’re literally so beautiful???? i just happen to be rereading WWSIN rn 

@safelycapricious ‘s Shaking Up And Breaking Down series. I found this like?? idfk but i’ve been raving about it ever since. ALSO CHECK OUT THEIR FICS IN GENERAL. 

fuck i have more than three but also check out @ambivalens999 ‘s Masks

i do wanna make a fic rec thing where i just rav about my favs,,, might do that later or sum

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

Omniscient third person. I don’t like it. Like I can understand that it can be a little hard to stay in one person’s perspective but, in my opinion, if you can, it shows how disciplined you are as a writer. Plus, i just get so confused when I go from A’s thoughts to suddenly what B is thinking about A. 

When writers use ‘ ‘ instead of “ “. When writers put thoughts in ‘ ‘ instead of just italicizing them. It’s small things but like they just bother me sO MUCH. most of the time i can ignore it and try to enjoy but other times i just dip. 

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

@espoir-et-reves !!!!! THEIR SHISAKU FICS ARE SO SO SO SO SO GOOD. And they have a warring states one going on THAT I AM SO OBSESSED WITH. 

@writer168 idk if they’re really “underrated” but THEY HAVE SUCH GREAT FICS ON AO3. Like theres an AU with sakura, kiba, and shino that i reread constantly because it just. is. so. fucking. GOOD. and they posted a new one that i’m YELLING about. 

@eggtoasties okay they only have 2 in the naruto fandom (one shisaku which is still ongoing) BUT THEIR WRITING STYLE IS SO NICE?? I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I still go back and reread their shikasaku one cause UGH i can’t get enough. I love it. 

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Fandoms: Naruto, Soul Eater, The Old Guard, ATLA

Parings: KakaSaku/ShikaSaku/ShiSaku/MultiSaku, SoMa, Joe X Nicky, Zukka

Character: SAKURA. I will read anything with Sakura as the main character and her being a fuckin badass or becoming a badass. I love her.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

aha.. haha.. well. I check my email like three times an hour. its the first thing i check in the mornings too. I’m literally a whore for praise and literally eat up feedback like its going out of style. I also reread a lot of my stuff because i make so many mistakes and spelling errors, or the spacing is weird oR SOMETHING. plus, literally any and all comments make my day, i go back and reread them cause they just make me feel so tingly and warm like “wow. this person enjoyed the fic/my writing enough to tell me. thats HUGE!”

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Angry, feral, bloodied, morally gray women. They aren’t bad guys, they’re probably the good guy, but that doesn’t mean they cant be fucking raging at the world with raw knuckles and blood on their teeth. I just love an angry woman who struggles with her emotions and just has so much inner conflict but that doesn’t take away from her character or badassery, it adds to it. 

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

The fake dating or miscommunication troupe. LIKE GUYS JUST TALK. AND TELL EACH OTHER OMFG. the entire like obliviousness of “nah they dont like me” while the They holds their hand and kisses their cheek. MOFO WHAT. it makes me so impatient and like mad HAAHHAHA. its probably because i’m a pretty confrontational person so seeing stuff like that just “cmon bro, USE YO HEAD.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

I have yet to receive a negative comment! Which i was really surprised about tbh. As for deadlines or pressure to update, i just kind of do whatever. I do set goals, but i set them flexible enough that hey, if i can’t do it, that’s okay. 

I have a lot of mini goals, like “i want to write this chapter and get it done this week” and then the large goal is “FINISH BY END OF MAY” so i have time. 

Actually, now that I think on it, the entire pressure to update thing is probably why i’m waiting until I have all of OL&W written to post it weekly,, cause well. I wouldn’t wanna leave you guys waiting as I tried to write and work out the next chapters and stuff, you know?

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

AAAAAA YOU KNOW I LOVE THESE AHAHAHAH

Have you seen the way the dead dance, World Breaker? They roar, half mad and starving. Do you not wish, do you not hope to see them twist and bend and dance to your will?

Shikamaru snarls, looking behind his shoulders to where his Shadows lay. “Patience.” He spits. “Is of the essence, Things of Ancient. Know your place as the dark you are.”

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

None of my experiences match up to anything I write tbh,,, probably the only thing that is me in my writing is maybe the emotional turmoil? I’m pretty emotionally and mentally mature because from a pretty young age i started forming my own opinions, started looking into the world around us and being like “dude what the fuck this is not what disney advertised”. Then i started talking (read: arguing and debating) with my dad about a lot of it. So, like emotions are kind of hard for me. Like i’m pretty good at controlling them or understanding them, but still. idk its hard to explain ig.

Like the weight of stress, the anger, the sadness. It’s kind of therapeutic to write. Cause i don’t know how to put those feelings to verbal words so writing them really helps. 

As for my readers’ image? Probably like some kind of hunched over figure typing away in the dark with a maniacal grin on their face. I honestly don’t know AHHAHAHA but it is fun to think about. I think they’d see me as someone with potential but a lot of room to grow and someone who is imperfect but in a charming way LMAOOOO

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

I’m gonna be real honest. Its probably like a 2. I’m a bit of a control freak so I almost always go in chronological order, my writing is pretty linear. Unless, i get bored and jump to one of my fav parts. It's pretty much i sit down, i open the doc, read over my notes and just start writing. 

It’s a little boring to explain AHAHAHA but once i get into the groove of things its really fucking great, I can like feel myself in the world, I can feel what i want the characters to, i love it. I catch myself mouthing the words as i type too, which i find hilarious.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I rather like how raw my writing is sometimes. Which might sound really vain, but i do like the way i word things or describe things. I love juxtaposition and repetition, or making a good ole circle back to some minute detail that wouldn’t stand out until i repeat it at the end and you’re like “omg” AHAHAHAHA.

Like those little poetic snippets or certain wording i just sit back and go “damn thats kinda good nadia! go you!’ HAHAHA  

40. How did you come up with the idea for The Intimacy Of Being Understood?

AAAAA this fic is like my first child, my pride and joy LMAO

so the idea initially came when i was reading some fic, idk if it was even naruto, but i was like “i don't like this, but i do like the rain symbolism.” And I knew i wanted to write something kind of slow paced, something a little sad and angsty, but would show KakaSaku slowly but surely falling in love.

Idk if you’ve noticed but a lot of my fics, the pairings don’t change each other dramatically. They accept each other as they are and then they grow with together. Like that acceptance is something i just love writing, its so subtle, it isn’t something you declare. Its simply “I am going to love you. I am going to love you despite your flaws and faults. I am going to love you unconditionally because I know you, I understand you, and there is nothing you could do to drive me away.” 

The fic kind of wrote itself after that first scene. I kept going back to the rain, go being ghosts, and resurrection, and the small epiphanies one gets. I wanted to focus on each character’s growth with each other. They didn’t find light in life because of each other, but with each other. And i think that’s my favorite thing about that fic. 

I wanted something raw and real and just something beautiful. I’m actually really proud of it tbh. Would i go back and rewrite/edit it? Oh of course! I’d do that with every single one of my fics, but i’m not gonna cause i think its in its rawest form right now. :))))

ask me shit plz

[silenceofthecookies]

One piece matchup for @basilisa-scorpii / @some-piece​ 

I’m 25 cis woman. Bisexual, however, I tend to lean more towards men or more “masculine” women, when it comes to physical attraction. I’m a tall gal (180cm/5’11) and on the chubby side of the scale, especially when it comes to boobs (I’m outranking OP girls, I’m afraid, rip my back xD), apple body shape, long legs. Dark, almost black, wavy hair, dark eyes, olive-ish complexion. Pierced girl here: 3 in left ear, one in right and a labret; totally planning more as well as tattoos. Rather tomboyish with a huge love for punk style, I like wearing black clothes and “break” them with something warm and vivid, like yellow or red.

ISTJ and Capricorn. Extremely introverted. Shy and reserved towards “stranger danger”, but I like people in general and I like company, as long as I’m having a safe distance and the “people time” is balanced with solitude. I have a huge tendency to be gloomy, can come across as rude and insensitive to people who don’t know me well, since I don’t really care about social boundaries, I’m sarcastic and have quite a morbid sense of humor. I am horribly hot-headed, but I do my best to tame it, so I rarely explode… But when I do, then it is indeed an explosion. Around the right people, I tend to get softer (aka the face people usually see on my blogs, doing my best to not be a bitch lmao) and more chaotic. Once I become close to someone, I am loyal to death and kind of overprotective. I’m not really affectionate and can’t express emotions well, my love language is an act of service. Biggest flaws: stubborn af, clumsy, oblivious, over-cautious, control freak, workaholic.

I love reading (sci-fi, fantasy, thriller, crime stories, magical realism, comics), travelling, history and archeology (ancient and medieval Europe), ornithology, stargazing and astrophysics, mythologies and folklore, cooking, writing, Greek history, language and culture. 

I also like: wandering around early in the morning/at night, reading on a windowsill, visiting random places in my city and around, rainy summer days and storms, birds, cloudless nights, dark chocolate, when someone plays with my hair, freedom of choice, meditating, good hot tea, hiking, sitting in water (hooot baths!), tattoos, piercing and body art, liquor, atmospheric bars with good music, good beer and good, small company.

I hate: crowd, clingy and noisy people, being told what to do and when, covering my neck and chest, being touched without asking for permission first, hot and sunny weather, losing control over situations or myself, cruelty against animals, kids and weaker people; bigotry, judgemental people, injustice, symmetrism, sterility, overly spicy food.

Any additional info you would like to share, fun facts, etc.

I’m neurodivergent (autistic and I suspect I might have ADHD in addition, though it both can go together and shares some similarities so who knows).

Used to be very sport oriented (trained basketball and for short time fencing) but because of health issues I can’t do that anymore. I do like being active whenever my mental and physical states allow me to (I just love yoga cause I can flex how flexible I am lmao)... But I need to be watched cause die hard or do nothing and I end in even worse condition, so yeah, someone with one more brain cell than me is needed around xD

I have a very high tolerance for toxic substances, such as alcohol, drugs, lots of meds… And luckily very good pain tolerance, cause most painkillers don’t work on me and whoa boy.

(No wonder I hate dentists with passion.)

I get along better with people who are straightforward and honest, even if sometimes they might tell me something I do not wish to hear. I will sniff bullshit out on a mile and if someone lies to me once, it’s over. And on top of that, I just don’t get hints, implications, allusions. Also, since I absorb emotions like a sponge, people who act too dramatically quickly overwhelm me, either it’s negative or positive emotions. 

I’d be the definition of a slowborn protagonist… Because it’d take me ages to realize someone has a crush on me and even longer to open enough to accept them lmao I’m a horrible, hopeless case.

I match you with... 

Trafalgar Law!

Bas. I kid you not. I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out if your match should’ve been Law or Zoro. Went down my list as usual, ended up with those two anyway. And here I wanted to surprise you ☹ Anyway, here’s why I picked Law:

Law is very calm, levelheaded and in general, not noisy at all. He’s a balanced person who generally won’t overwhelm you with his own feelings and emotions. He’s straightforward with his words and actions, because who has time (or energy) for beating around the bush? When Law says something, he means it. What also makes him a good match for you is that he is very calm, even in emotional situations, so he can step in before you explode.

A relationship with Law is very much drama-free. He’s a doctor, a captain and an insomniac gremlin, he doesn’t have the time nor energy for fights. You’re both adults, and problems will be handled as adults, by talking. Law won’t raise his voice unless you do so first and even then, it’ll take a while. In the rare case a fight escalates, he'll just walk away and wait for the situation to cool down.

Law is very patient with you. He’s not a person who will quickly get attached. Once he falls in love with someone, it’s unconditional. If you’re in disbelief he’ll show you through his words and actions that he’s serious. If you can’t accept it, he’ll wait until you can. He’ll give you all the time and space you need. Be prepared for some teasing about that way later in the relationship when you’re both comfortable with it though.

Law shares in your dislike of crowds, so dates will usually be something away from them, or something where you can easily get away from should it be overwhelming. Much like you, he too has times where he needs to recharge from social interactions by having some alone time, and he will never judge you or guilt you for needing some time for yourself.

Let’s not forget Law is a doctor. He understands your health, both physical and even to a degree mental, and will help you where needed, mostly by telling you not to push yourself and stopping you when you’re doing so anyway. He’s concerned about you but not in an overbearing way, trusting you to know what your limits are. Be prepared for a little nagging when you do know better but do things anyway.

Law’s love languages are quality time and acts of service, preferring to show this feelings for you through actions rather than through words or physical affection. He's happy you're not too clingy either, though that doesn't mean some affection isn't needed from time to time.

In general, Law will always respect your independence and even encourage you to do things with people beside him. He knows he's very busy and sometimes won't have enough time for you, so he wants you to have other people as well that you can enjoy yourself with. He doesn't easily get jealous either, though he is curious about your friends, wanting to meet them at least once, if only so he knows who you're talking about when you tell him about your day.

[bobbys-naughty-corner]

Bokuto x reader

Howvember #3 (I’m too in love with him. I can’t write a proper story for any one else)

“Hey beautiful.” I heard a voice say softly. I felt my body being nudged awake. “Mmm, Bokuto? What time is it?” I rubbed my eyes and asked him. He climbed over me and kissed my cheek. “I’m not too sure. I just got home. Can you wake up for me?” He asked as he climbed under the blankets with me. “I’m up. How was the dinner?” I asked. He had went out to eat with his friends, I was invited but I didn’t go because I didn’t want to. I stayed home and watched Godzilla. “The dinner was great. Me and the guys were talking about some things. And I would like for you to hear it out.” He said wiping a fallen lash from my face. “What is it?” I was about to sit up but he placed his hand on my chest to keep me down. “We were talking about our sexual experiences, typical boy stuff, and then Oikawa said something I would like to try. With you.” He sounded a bit reluctant to tell me all this. We always trusted each other in bed and I never had a reason to say no to any advances he’s made towards me. “You want to try something new? Like what?” We weren’t vanilla. Bokuto loved making things interesting and showing off his strength and stamina in bed. “It’s nothing too crazy. Just wax play.” He said reaching over the bed to pull up a white plastic bag. “Wax play?” I asked confused, who plays with wax during sex and how can you do that. “Wouldn’t that hurt?” I asked. “That’s why I thought you would love it my beautiful masochist.” He held up individually wrapped tall skinny candles. “Oh, you want to try tonight?” He nodded pulling out all the candles on the bed. “We can’t do this on the bed. It’ll ruin the blanket. I cleaned the floors today so their clean, we can do it there.” He pulled me out the bed immediately. He already had his clothes off. The nightlight by the door of the room lit up. “Do you know what you’re doing?” I asked watching him unwrap the candles. “It’s very simple from what he told me. Sit on your hands for me. “ I put my palms on the floor behind me and laid back. Bokuto crawled over to me and kissed my forehead before blinding me with his tie. “Is this necessary?” I asked. I had a fear of the dark that I never got over. I heard a lighter flicker multiple times. I then heard shuffling of the feet and the door opening and closing. I tried to relax and clear my mind. I started to recall every scary movie I’ve ever seen and i got paranoid from not being able to see or move. It would be stupid to even move without looking at my surroundings but I didn’t want to be impatient and take off the tie. I slowed my breathing and thought happy thoughts. Bokuto came back and slammed the door rather loudly. I jumped at the sound and his patted against the floor as he got closer to me. “I had to get a towel for us. Does your hands hurt?” He asked. I couldn’t tell what he was doing but I shook my head no. “Not yet.” I told him but I guess he was too distracted to hear me. “Ohhh they’re melting already. We can start.” I laid patiently on the ground. The band of my bra nearly hurting as I took deep breath’s bracing for the impending pain that is going to come. My stomach sunk in when a drop of the wax landed close to my belly button. It rolled down to the dip of my belly and settled in there for the rest of the night. “Is it too hot?” He asked holding my waist. “I like it.” I said lowly. I heard a snip and felt my breast spill the the sides and my bra open. “What are you doing?!” I said. The cold room made my nipples erect. “Your bra was in the way and I don’t want you to move.” His hands wiggled my breast. “You have such a beautiful body. A gorgeous face, breast like jello and a perfect ass.” His hands massaged my chest, squeezing my breast, pinching my nipples, and leaving kisses all over. He kept the wax in place, I felt it hardening and tighten over my skin. I gasped more as he went back to dripping wax on my body. He let the wax trail to my vagina avoiding my pubic hair and the whole thing in general. This wax thing wasn’t really doing it for me. “How are you feeling?” He asked. He had stopped with the wax to look at me.

“I’m not enjoying it too much. The wax no longer hurts and it’s not doing anything for me with the blindfold.” I confessed. Bokuto pushed the tie off my face. I blinked a bit tying to get my eyes used to seeing again. He blew out the candles and I sat up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to stop completely. We could’ve finished if you were into it.” I told him. “It’s just that when I don’t see you well when I can’t see in general I get anxious. I have a lot of trust in you but it’s scary at times.” I added. Bokuto squeezed my cheeks together and kissed my plumped up lips. “It was boring. Just something that wasn’t for us. I just thought you might surprisingly like it.” He helped me up. Some nights it just doesn’t work out the way you want it to. I was surprised when he bent me over the bed. “I would still like to fuck you crazy.” He said. Soft gently hands held my body down. “I would like that too.” I spread my legs and pulled my underwear the side. Bo rubbed his dick at my clit making himself harder. He gave me a small slap to the ass before sliding in. I wasn’t as wet as usual but that would changed really soon. I loved being fucked raw by him, of course we didn’t want kids yet but it made me feel so close to him. And the way he would dirty talk about it. “You like this fat cock? Like how it fucks you? You want my cum in you? Want to be pregnant with my baby? You’d like that right? I bet you think about it all the time.” Shit like that drives me wild. And when he holds my hips to ram his hips into me, 🤤. The biggest mess sliding down my thighs as he called me his cum whore, puppy, baby girl and other names. “You like when I call you my puppy? You’ve been very good tonight puppy. How about I give you a nice fucking in return?” He pulled out and pushed me a little to tell me to move up. I got on the bed completely and he was right behind me. As I was about to settle on my knees and hands comfortably he pushed me onto my side and pulled my legs towards him sliding my body against the sheets. I moaned at the rough handling. “Tell me how good you’ve been.” He told me as he twisted my body around. “I’ve been so good today Mmph. So patient and productive. Please reward me, I deserve it.” The head of his penis teased my slit as I spoke to him. He let my legs fall to his sides gently as held my hair forcing me to watch him insert himself. “Nngh.” I raised my legs back and held them. He pulled out and slid back in. He wasn’t be rough and he definitely wasn’t trying to be gently as the head of his penis hit my cervix a bit too harshly for such a thrust. He was slow as hell but he made every thrust count when he came back into me. “You like your reward puppy? Is this good enough for you? You want it rougher?” My eyes teared up from pleasure. He picked up the pace and power in his thrusts. Watching it appear and disappear inside me made me dizzy. He released my hair and fell into my neck. I moaned in his ear encouraging him to continue fucking me. “Oh Bo you feel so good. You stretch me so good. Please more.” His hands pushing my thighs into the bed as he used my body to hold some of his weight. It hurt a little because I’m not as flexible as he thought. But it was enough to impress him. He sat up and used one of his thumb to rub my little bud. My hips stuttered at the touch and my walls tightened. He grunted out at the squeeze. Bokuto kept his eyes on my face, watching my body rock against the wet sheets. Every so often the bed would hit the wall with loud bangs. My legs tried to close themselves but he held my right thigh down. His grip on my thigh was dangerously close to making me bleed. A screw inside me tightened so much it was resisting. My uterus was swelling up from all the abuse he was giving her. He put his hand back on my thigh and applied more of his weight in them as he slowed his pace and just pounded deeply and roughly inside of me. It was overwhelming me and I begged for an orgasm. My voice had given up on me and I barely made a sound but he could tell how I was feeling by my facial expressions.

As if he was searching for the right button inside of me all the while he was pressing every other button. And finally after multiple multiple multiple attempt he pressed the right button and held it. He saw the gleam in my eyes when he hit a certain spot in me. He held his hip down against me and ground his hips up before pulling back out and doing it again. I let out my cries when he did that. He was teasingly abusing me. It felt really good but I hated it. “B-Bokuto please-“ He cut me off with a kiss. “I’m rewarding my puppy. Making you feel really good with my dick 😌. But I don’t want you to cum yet.” His lips came on mine again. His tongue moving over my lips asking for entrance. I hesitate to open my mouth but once he had enough space to enter he did. All I wanted to do was to have my heel flip up like in Princess Diaries. But I did the next best thing, curl my toes. When he pulled back I spoke again. “Thank you daddy.” I stared into his eyes and he smirked at me but also cocked a brow at me. “You don’t have to thank me baby. You deserve a good fucking. You can tell me how much you love me though, I haven’t heard you say it in a couple of hours.” He kissed right above my left eyebrow. “I love you Bokuto Kotaro. I love you so much.” I said while getting my brains fuck out. “Oh gonna pull out the full on me. Well then, I love you too YN LN. Now cum with me.” He picked himself up and put a tight grip on my neck. Using his thumb and pointer finger to apply pressure right under my jaw. His other hand rubbed my clit fast. My eyes rolled back and my I almost couldn’t see a thing. My nails raked down my own thighs as I held them in the same position he did. My hot tears sliding down my face to his fingers on my neck, making him remove some pressure but he applied it again. He knew I could take it, he knew I loved it. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Come on baby! You’re holding back just let go. Give me that squeeze I need to cream your insides white. Let me fill you up baby.” He was growling. I hated this side of him. He was cooing at me to have an orgasm but avoided giving me the release of one. He knew how to build me up and keep building me up until he felt like I should cum. Like reaching the top of the roller coaster and being stuck there. But just from this teasing alone I felt myself about to burst through it. I was slowly becoming too sensitive to everything. My walls pulsated around him, as I felt myself pushing myself down that roller coaster. Rocking back and forth giving myself that extra help. Soon enough I was screaming for him. I began to suffocate as he squeezed down tightly on my neck as I came around his dick. He let out the most pussy dripping growl ive ever heard. 👍🏾😏. His dick buried inside me full as he emptied his sacs into my parent trap. He removed his body from mine after fully releasing himself. “How was that reward puppy?” He asked me after he plopped on the bed beside me. I turned to look at him, panting heavily trying to catch my breath. Too dazed to speak.

[nanamispto]

3, 5, 23!

3: Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How far along are you with them?

*sweats* I have so many WIPs. I have four WIPs listed in my fic masterlist, but I've got about seven started, three I know I'll be writing after that, and five more that I'm thinking about writing.

I'm about three quarters done with the first chapter of the Twitch Streamer Yuuji AU, Guileless (which is Chosoyuki) just started, Something Soft is about halfway done, and Something Forgotten I've got a few snippets but I haven't even gotten far enough to work on connective tissue.

...This also isn't including the fics that will not get shared (aka the ones that are just. me shipping my friend's OC with Sukuna)

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

I'm trying something new with Twitch!AU and having a good portion of the first chapter be an interview between Yuuji and Miwa. This is the opening for it, and I think it's a lot of fun:

Exclusive Interview: Twitch Streamer TokyoTiger Brings Together Speedrunning and Sibling Antics

Itadori Yuuji’s streams aren’t like any you’ve seen before. Whether it’s dancing along to a Megan Thee Stallion hit, watching his ridiculously attractive brother flirt with chat, or a visit from one of his seemingly endless number of dads, the college student’s streams never fail to entertain. We spoke with Itadori about his ascent, family, plans for the future, and the infamous tattoo bet.

23: What’s one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

This part might get a bit long, so I'm gonna put it under the cut.

Read as much (if not more) than you write. And I'm not just talking about fanfiction, seek out published, original works. I think writing without reading is the fastest way to kill your works. There's just..a loss of life and vigor to a piece when you don't read. I find for me, it also creates additional mental friction when trying to write.

Reading is how I developed my writing style: By examining how/what people wrote and how I reacted to it, I could see what my preferences were for style. While it doesn't always come through in my fanfic, I tend to gravitate towards quieter, intimate pieces with lush sensory details, a vivid sense of place, and compassionate narration. One of my close friends gravitates to pieces that are nearly minimalist in construction, and it's echoed in their writing.

But part of the reason I want to emphasize reading original works rather than just fanfiction is because the process for construction is so different. Writing an original piece is like carving a bench out of a log, while writing a fanfiction is like building a partially assembled bench from ikea. I don't say this to denigrate fanfic—I literally write fanfiction, but more to say what makes them challenging is different.

In original works, you're in charge of mapping the piece from start to finish. You get an initial rough shape of where you're going, then you revise and continually whittle away at that roughness until you've got something complete. Occasionally, you'll completely reroute the piece, or try flipping it on its head to gain a new perspective, but how the piece comes out is ultimately up to you.

With fanfiction, half the pieces are already made for you. And while that might free up some mental space for planning plot and delving into the characters, it also provides constraints. I used the example of partially assembled ikea furniture because while things are made for you, It Is A Pain In The Ass. Your output is limited by the fact you're operating within certain bounds. The characters have established personalities and motivations, which means they're less flexible for writing and revising. While fanfiction has some beautiful offerings, it is inherently limiting because you're writing in a clearly defined sandbox. Again, there's nothing wrong with that! Again, I write fanfic, and often use it as warmup. But understand that both mediums offer challenges and have different things to offer you.

I've actually got a list of some of my favorite original short stories that you can check out if you're looking for a place to start.

I would also recommend checking out creative nonfiction. It's a beautiful genre that doesn't get as much love as it deserves. If you're looking for somewhere to start with creative nonfiction here are some of my favorites:

Maxine Hong Kingston's No Name Woman

CJ Hauser's The Crane Wife

Lidia Yuknavitch's The Unspeakable Thing Between Our Bellies and Woven

Jamaica Kincaid's Biography of a Dress

[quicksandblock]

Hi!! I’ve just spent way too long writing down a probably excessive amount of worldbuilding for Jevin’s species in @martuzzio‘s hermit space outlaws AU!!! Disclaimer: I pulled everything scientific-sounding in this post straight out of my ass. Also I’m pretty sure I contradict things that have been established as canon at at least a couple points. martuzzio, please feel free to take this or leave it, or only take part of it, whatever you like. I just got hit by worldbuilding inspiration! And I had to get it out!!

History of Slimes!

Modern slimes’ ancestors were simple, non-intelligent slimes a lot like the Minecraft ones. Jevin’s species (the only intelligent species on the planet) is specifically descended from cave dwelling slimes, but there were also species that lived aboveground in damp environments such as swamps.

Ancient slimes needed very damp environments in order to survive. (Even the ones that lived aboveground were nocturnal, because direct sunlight could be deadly to them!) Modern slimes, including Jevin’s species, are much much more resilient than their ancestors, though hot and dry environments are still bad for them. This change came about because of a mass extinction event that killed most ancient slime species as well as most other life on the planet!

Slimeworld used to be a very wet place, but several million years ago, something happened to cause a planet-wide drought. The evolutionary pressures of the drought are what eventually led to the rise of Slimes as an intelligent species - before then, there was no intelligent life on the planet.

The cause would have to be unnatural, because I'm pretty sure there’s no natural way for a planet to just lose all its water. So I think some advanced spacefaring species came and drained most of the water off of Slimeworld for some reason. Why? Who knows, they’re probably all dead now.

This catastrophe left almost no habitats for slimes to live in. The surface-dwelling species almost all died immediately, with only a few hanging on in obscure corners of the world. The ones in the caves were a little safer, but not for long, because the devastation wasn’t just limited to slimes!

The extreme damage to Slimeworld’s environment killed off most life on the planet. The ancient cave slimes thrived for a little while! Dead stuff falling into caves from above had always been their main food source. But eventually the fallout of the drought settled and the famine hit them too.

Food was scarce and it wasn’t coming to them anymore. Anything that wanted to eat on this new world needed to be able to survive and ideally travel long distances in the harsher climates of the outside world. Most cave slimes couldn’t do that, so most cave slimes died off. But a few had mutations that let them do just well enough to survive. Those were the ones that evolved into Jevin’s species!

Ancient slimes spent a long time hanging around cave mouths, rolling out at night to find food and retreating back during the day. The ones that got the furthest and still managed to make it back were the most successful. The first big break of the Slime species in terms of intelligence was when they started carrying their shelter around with them instead of having to hide every day.

That’s right: the first human technology was sharp stick, but the first Slime technology was leaf hat.

Physiology of Slimes!

Ancient slimes started out pretty much the same as slime molds here on Earth. They were colonies of individual organisms that all acted together like a single body, but could survive just fine on their own. However over time they evolved to become more and more dependent on the colony, and the cells became more and more specialized. Now they’re something in between a colony and an individual! Each cell of their body is technically a different organism, but they can’t function outside of the colony. Also, each colony does have a single consciousness, they’re not hiveminds.

They evolved like this because in the harsh environment of the drought, a single cell would die in minutes. A colony could retain moisture for much longer! The fact that colonies were now staying together all the time let them start to evolve more internal organization, which led to the evolution of intelligence!

Slimes are very structurally simple. A slime is made up of a jelly-like mass and a more rubbery, less malleable core.

The jelly layer cells have a unique structure - under a microscope they kind of look like sea urchins, but with long flexible tendrils instead of spines. The way they tangle and cling lets the slime hold together and keep its structure instead of melting!

The tendrils also act as transmitters and receptors for the electrical signals sent out by the slime’s “brain.” Each cell is in constant communication with all the cells around it, which is how a slime moves and controls its body. They also pass nutrients to each other based on chemical signals!

However the structure of these cells means that they lose water very easily. In hot or dry environments, the tendrils of the cells retract to reduce the amount of surface area that water can escape from. This means they don’t cling together as easily, and the slime “melts.” Enough time in its melted state and the cells start to die because nutrients aren’t being passed around the body like they should be.

The jelly-layer cells are all pretty much interchangeable. They’re also very adaptable! When exposed to open air, jelly cells lock up their tendrils and partially dehydrate themselves, passing the liquid back into the mass of jelly behind them. The result is the thin, rubbery “skin” of a slime’s body. This was the most crucial adaptation that allowed modern Slimes’ ancestors to survive the drought, since it drastically improves their ability to retain water.

The core cells are different, more structured. The core is a slime’s brain. If most of a slime’s body is like jelly, the core would be like stringy algae. It’s still very flexible and malleable, but if it tears or breaks, that damage can’t just be healed by squishing the parts back together. The brain is usually kept scrunched up safely in the middle of the slime’s body, and there’s a dense layer of more rubbery jelly surrounding it.

Slimes can digest almost any organic material, but a lot of the life on their planet evolved to be toxic to them, and if something is toxic to slimes you better believe it’s toxic to most everything else. There are a lot of really weird toxins native to Slimeworld!

Culture of Slimes!

First I’ll just copy/paste the ask about Slime fashion I sent to martuzzio a while ago since I am still enamored with it:

idea: since they're blind, Jevin's species's fashion is entirely based around the vibrations they make when they contact whatever surface they're moving on. you pick up different materials or combinations of material depending on what "look" you're going for and hold it on the outside of your body. they could use all kinds of material for this - cloth, metal, powders, whatever. you arrange different items in patterns on your surface to create different "outfits" (soundscapes) of vibration. the more complex the pattern, the fancier and more formal the "dress." this stuff makes it a bit more difficult to move since it reduces their traction, and it also takes effort to maintain more complicated "outfits", so dressing up is really only for formal situations or showing off. casual dress is keeping just a few things you like the sound of on your surface, and it's also perfectly acceptable to wear nothing at all. of course this all looks really weird to people with eyes.

Slime language doesn’t just involve sound. It also incorporates chemical signals (which give a sense of the slime’s mood and fulfill the same function as body language does for us humans) and touch. Two slimes having a conversation will press tendrils of their body together and communicate with something like a cross between braille and sign language. This is actually the main component of their language - sound is kind of secondary. It’s impossible for a non-slime to “speak” the slime language without the help of technology, and slimes can’t make the range of sounds that humans do with their vocal cords. Fortunately they can hear at least as well as humans and using a soundboard to talk is pretty intuitive for them!

Most slime cities are either underground or underwater. The oceans of Slimeworld are pretty densely populated! It actually led to a lot of environmental problems in the Slime species’s history, because there isn’t a ton of ocean left to live in. A lot of aquatic animals on the planet went extinct during the slimes’ industrial revolution a thousand years or so ago.

Slimes obviously don’t have visual art since they’re blind. Some of the main art forms of the species are perfume and culinary art! Because of all the stuff on their planet that’s toxic to them, slimes evolved a very keen sense of taste/smell. They can detect minuscule amounts of a chemical. Most other species can’t appreciate their art because their senses aren’t fine enough to pick up on all the subtle flavors and smells! Also slimes’ ideas about what tastes and smells good can be... eccentric.

They also do sculpture and music. They have some really awesome musical instruments because they can shape their body to whatever shape it needs to be to use the instrument!

Personal space isn’t really a thing in slime culture. Their language requires being in constant contact to speak, so casual touch with strangers isn’t just normal, it’s the polite thing to do. If there’s a group of slimes in a room, each one is pretty much always touching at least one or two others. Blobbing together is natural for them!

...aaand that’s all I got for now, because it’s 4:30 AM. I hope this is coherent because I didn’t really edit it! If you have literally any questions at all please let me know! because there are certainly details that didn’t make it in here!!

[liitlesunshiine]

Little Sidekick

(Bakugo x Reader)

Warnings: Cursing, sfw

Prompt: Y/N takes up an internship at the Ground Zero agency. With her luck, she ends up a sidekick to the Pro hero himself- Bakugo.

Prelude: While this chapter is smutty free I can guarantee you the future ones wont be ;) Now I haven’t written anything in a FAT minute so forgive ya girl for the grammar errors you see. I’m a marketing major not a literature one. Just horny and motivated enough to write a full-blown fic on a fictional character, that I am currently obsessing over. Hope ya sluts enjoy :*

Y/LN= Your Last Name

| Chapter 1

In a desperate last-minute attempt to leave your toxic home, you took up a hero exchange program in Japan that you found online. While this wasn’t exactly the smartest thing you’ve done, it definitely didn’t stop you from applying to a sidekick position in an agency called “Ground Zero,” not aware that you’re getting more than what you had originally bargained for; you secretly packed a bag with a few necessities and slipped out of the prison you called home.

~

“Good morning Ms. Y/LN, to start you off we’re going to be putting you in a training simulation to better analyze your quirk and combat skills. This is to see which hero you’d be most compatible with as a sidekick.”

It was your second day at the agency. You spent a week settling in the apartment that the agency offered you for the internship program. It was a humble setting, nothing flashy which you had preferred anyways. You finally step foot in the agency yesterday mainly going over the basics and signing paperwork, today you assumed was going to be a bit more hands on.

You were used to this type of routine, being top class in your high school years meant a lot of colleges were constantly throwing themselves at you. Which in turn led to a lot of situations with you in training and battling on other heroes. Especially with your father owning and running multiple agencies, you were constantly being forced to get stronger, it was practically expected of you to become a high-ranking hero in America and take over his business. Something you honestly didn’t care much for. Maybe it was the constant pressure being put on your shoulders to become a hero but after so many years of being subjected to that, you’ve come to secretly dislike the hero industry in your own twisted way. You only took this internship program because you were unknown here, there were no expectations of you, no one constantly breathing down your shoulder; here you were nothing but a nameless sidekick and that thought alone brought you some peace.

You stepped into the training simulation. It was an all-white room but seemed endless. On one wall there was a glass window where you supposed they watched you from but couldn’t see through from your side. You were wearing a one-piece track suit with lines running all throughout the outfit. The suit was ingrained with tech that would monitor your breathing and usage of your quirk.

“Hello Y/LN” you heard through the speaker phone “if the training gets too intense for you or if you want to take a break just yell out STOP and we will immediately halt everything. I also forgot to ask since I didn’t see it on your application: what is your hero name?”

That question lingered in your head for a minute or so. In America you were forced into living a persona behind the title of a false name. Everything in the hero industry was so theatrical, from the costumes, to even the name you represented yourself with. It was all so scripted and fake. You refused to take any part in that this time, here in Japan you’re starting with a clean slate.  So, with that in mind you sternly responded:

‘Y/N. it’s just Y/N.” and thus the training began.

About 15 minutes went by with no trouble or fuss. Your air quirk allowed you to move fast and efficiently. You’ve dodged every attack thrown at you by the fake automated dummies and even destroyed a handful with such ease and precision. You were taught a variety of attack and defense forms, all with and without the use of your quirk. You also knew how to dual sword fight; but since the training has been so pathetically easy you haven’t even found the need to use your swords yet. Picking up on this attitude, the speaker came on once again.

“It seems like the simulation is a bit too easy on you Y/N, were going to be skipping up a few levels and see how you do on level 7: which is where most of the pro heroes train at.

You only responded with a nod. A smirk slowly creeping in your face. About time they got serious. You were hoping for a challenge, you couldn’t deny the bit of pride you felt effortlessly blowing through this training. With that, more mindless dummies appeared, all in different shapes and sizes this time, some even carrying weapons and shields. There was one dummy in particular that caught your attention. It had four arms all holding a sword. You immediately drew your swords out and instantly ran over to it; all while you smoothly cut and sliced through all the others in your way.

Once you reached the four handed dummy, it instantly became a dance among swords hashing and daggering at one other. Even though you were outnumbered by two swords you kept the upper hand by being faster. But with every given slice the dummy was beginning to match your pace and speed, it was becoming slightly more difficult to stop every single hit; so, you cartwheeled back to give yourself some space.

You jumped to one of the corners of the walls staying off the ground to think of plan. You figured if you kept going back and forth with the dummy it would get you nowhere and eventually just tire you out. Frustrated by how the dummy was able to match your speed you prioritized cutting off two of its arms. That way it be more manageable than trying to defend yourself against four swords attacking you simultaneously. You instantly retreated back once you had given your failed plan an attempt. Back on the corner of the wall, you were losing more patience.

Maybe I should wait for an opening and cut its head off, maybe with my quirk I can push it back and have it fall, you thought to yourself. Maybe I’m just overthinking this, it’s a fucking lifeless dummy.

With that you activated your quirk and blew air towards the dummy with such force it rolled back. You took this opportunity to jump on it, but it immediately drew out one of its swords to defend itself; it forced you to quickly rotate midair and land it behind it. This gave you about 3 seconds to rack your sword across its neck before it was able to even register you were behind it. Its lifeless head fell onto to the floor and about a minute or so its body just disappeared altogether. The room was slowly returning to its white appearance and all the evidence of a battle scene was replaced shiny tiles. The lady walked through the door “wow Y/N that was great! You don’t even seem to be worn out. I’m sure you could’ve even reached level 8 easily but we gathered enough data already. Why don’t you come into my office so we can go over the details of who you’ll be paired up with”

You’ve trained tirelessly for years on end, of course this simulation was going to be a breeze. At least compared to what you’ve faced in the past. You shuttered at the thought, quickly trying to think of something else. You thoughtlessly followed her as she led the way, you looked around the impressive building with curiosity; it wasn’t the fanciest one you’ve seen but it must have been one of the biggest. After heading up in an elevator and making a few more turns you ended up in the speaker’s office taking a seat across her. A bit of guilt creeping up since you had completely forgotten her name.

She pulled out some papers giving you more things to sign and fill out. She briefly reminded you of the benefits that the agency was going to be offering you: an apartment complex 5 minutes away from here, a flexible schedule and fixed meet up times, and a small allowance for food and necessities.

“Do remember this program is for a year, while we can’t guarantee you a permanent position after that, if you do show promising resolve, we can offer you a contract making you an official member of the agency. This program is highly competitive though, we have about 8 other exchange heroes that we will be working with this year. And out of the 8 only one or possibly two, candidates will be accepted.”

“yeah that’s fine,” you casually responded.

You weren’t planning on staying here forever, regardless you were hoping by the end of the year you would land a spot in Shoto’s agency. You’ve always secretly admired the half and half hero after watching an interview of him speaking about his father. You couldn’t help but relate to him and what he felt; on top of it he seemed like a genuine and down to earth person. The opposite of what you’ve usually seen among heroes. You were absolutely intrigued and fascinated by the icyhot hero-

You were pulled away from your thoughts when the door behind you was slammed open. You jumped slightly from the noise and sharply turned with an irritated look on your face to see which asshole would just barge in like that. When you did, your eyes met with a pair of red curious ones. The man who barged in had spiky blonde hair protruding out in every angle, that would’ve been his most noticeable feature if it weren’t for the fact that he was fucking huge. His presence alone held such intimidation and power and that tight black shirt with a red X on it did little to no job in hiding every curve and muscle from his body. From the sharp V line on his lower abdomen, to his biceps which made your head look small in comparison, you were certainly caught off guard but pulled back into reality when the woman broke the silence.

“Y/N, this is Bakugo, Katsuki, also known as Ground Zero. You will be his sidekick from this moment forth.”

.

.

.

There was a moment or so of awkward silence that made the air around you feel heavy.

“tsk. Like hell I need a sidekick. I don’t need dead weight on my fucking shoulders, set her up with shitty hair, or dunce face.”

“Now, now Bakugo. We discussed this with the PR team already, don’t be difficult. We need to bring up your ratings. Having a pretty sidekick can distract the audience from that explosive personality of yours. We’re already in a rough spot from your last meltdown.” Speaker lady said with the calmest tone you’ve heard her use since you’ve met her.

“I was in the middle of a fucking battle how else would you have liked for me to get the public out of the way eh?”

“threating them with an explosion and cursing them off definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

“tsk. Whatever. I’ll have to train her then. Wouldn’t want a liability on my hands now.” He looked over to you “Ya heard me freakshow?”  

You bit your inner lip, drawing a tiny ounce of blood. There was a lot of information to digest here but fuck this, you thought. You ignored him for a few seconds, unraveling everything you’ve just heard. The balls on this guy. Who the hell did he think he was? Last thing you needed was to deal with some asshole trying to down talk you. You stood up and pushed your chair back. You looked up at him with unsettling coldness. You weren’t having any of this shit today.

“My name is fucking Y/N.”

His mouth slightly gaped, it almost looked like he wanted to respond but couldn’t form any words. You assumed he wasn’t used to people talking back? You could careless at the moment, you took his delayed reaction to walk out and slam the door closed. You felt offended and belittled. So, they partnered me up with that punk not based off of my skill or anything but because I’m simply a pretty face that can distract the crowd from his unhinged personality? The fuck. A wind whirl of emotions went through you. Wasn’t this in some way demeaning, maybe even sexist? I’m being reduced to my looks now; this was definitely a first for you. His words rang in your head “dead weight” “liability,” “shitty hair,” “dunce face;” he not only spat on you but on his coworkers as well? Man, if that’s how he talks about his peers you could only imagine what he had in store for you, seems like “freakshow” was your new nickname already. A chill ran down your spine, maybe coming here was a bad idea.

No. no. no.  You quickly stopped your train of thought. I’m not going to have this wannabe scare me off on the first day. I left America for a reason, I can deal with this, I can deal with him-

Your thoughts were interrupted once again.

“Oi, I wasn’t finished talking!” he stomped his way behind you and pulled your arm back, forcing you to face him.

“well I am.” You responded sharply with an attitude rolling off your tongue.

“Like hell you are.” He growled, gripping your arm tighter this time, tugging you closer to him. The muscles on his biceps becoming veiny from how tight his grip was. The air stiffened and everyone outside the office walked slowly pretending not to notice you both. This time with more courage and vigor you pushed his shoulder, which to your embarrassment did little to nothing considering he didn’t even move an inch.

“What’s your problem?” you asked genuinely confused from why he was acting out, the pain on your arm becoming harder to ignore. He held an intense gaze with you, it was now registering how small you were in comparison to him. With his free hand he pushed the hair on your shoulder to the side gently, throwing you off completely. He leaned into you, insanely and uncomfortably close with his hot breath hitting your ear. Chills were running all throughout your body and you couldn’t bring yourself to move way this time. It was if you were completely frozen.

“Don’t go thinking you’re hot shit just cause you reached level 7. I’d hate to put you in your place so soon on your first week here little sidekick.” The pet name rolling off his tongue. You practically choked on air, not sure with what to respond with, still frozen. Slightly terrified, now slightly turned on; you made a feeble attempt in creating some space only to be pulled in closer. Now he had both of your arms pinned to the side.

“Not so brave now eh?” He pushed his body onto you, you practically felt like you were sinking into him. A light unintentional blush crept in on your face and he smirked at the sight. He pulled your chin up forcing you to meet his eyes, glaring down at you with a smug look on his face. He was taunting you.  

“Our training sessions will be every Thursday and Friday after 4. Make sure you’re on time little sidekick, I’d hate to have to go look for you and trust me, the last thing you’d want is to play a game of hide and seek with me.”

With that he let go of you and shoved you off to the side. You regained your balance by grabbing on to the table near you, trying to register what the fuck just happened. Everyone was looking at you. While Bakugo walked out of the room, you stood there absolutely floored. It was until a tap on the shoulder brought you back to your senses.

“You good? I wouldn’t worry much about Bakubro, he’s just like that.” A rather handsome red head stood in front of you. He was slightly bigger than Bakugo but around the same height. There was this energy radiating off of him that felt really comforting and soothing. He smiled at you and you caught sight of his sharp teeth, but gentle look on his eyes.

“I’m Kirishima. Welcome to the agency.”

~

[homerofthebraves]

I’m sorry this is so late, but this is my gift for the @hockeynetwork winter gift exchange! It was a lot more fluff than I originally intended, but I hope you like it @antoineroussel! 

“Paaaattttyyy. Pat Patty Patty Pats. Paaaaaaaaaaatts.” Travis drawled from his upside down position on the sofa. His feet were in the air, hanging over the back of the couch, kicking idly, and his head was almost on the floor. It was surprisingly comfortable. They were finally both back in Philly, for the first time in what felt like forever, getting ready for a season. He wondered if this is what the lockout felt like a few years ago. He’d have to ask one of the older guys. He turned his head to look at Nolan, who was sitting on the couch with his legs across TK’s torso, scrolling through his phone absently. Travis could hear the sounds coming from it. Patty was 100% on TikTok like the Gen-Z trash he was. 

“What.” His voice was completely flat. He didn’t even bother to look at Travis, just paused the video he was watching. Travis blinked up at him. His hair was long, like really long, to the point where he’d started tying it back with ribbons or those elastic things TK started finding all over the house. It was currently down, pushed back behind his ear. His face looked weird from this angle, and Travis could, like see the inside of his nose. His beard was gone. He complained about masks making it itchy, but Travis just thought he was struggling to grow it out. It always came in patchy anyway. Patty made a noise and nudged his foot into TK’s side impatiently.

“What do you want, asshole?” He muttered. Travis frowned. He’d actually forgotten why he wanted Patty’s attention in the first place. 

“I love you.” 

“Oh my god you’re the worst.” He turned back to his phone, and Travis could hear the start of that annoying Lady Gaga trend.

Travis pouted, looking up at Nolan. “You love me.”

“Asshole.”

“An asshole you’re in looooveee with.” Travis responded, turning his pout into a smirk. 

Nolan pulled his legs back, reached over and shoved Travis off the couch completely, backflipping him onto the floor. 

“Motherfucking OW.” Travis complained from where he was now sprawled out on the floor. “If you put me on IR, I will…” Travis trailed off because Nolan started laughing. He was laughing loud and obnoxious and holy shit was that a snort. 

“Holy-shit, Teeks- your face.” Nolan got out between huffs of laughter. Travis wanted to glare. He absolutely one hundred, two hundred percent wanted to glare. But he found himself smiling instead. It had been so long since he’d heard his boyfriend laugh like that, all carefree and happy. That’s not to say Nolan hadn’t been happy, but that last year and a half had been tough on him. He waited Nolan out, watching as tears formed in his eyes before could catch his breath. He stretched his legs out and cracked his back before standing back up. “You’re lucky I’m flexible.” He muttered, but the smile on his face completely betrayed any fake anger. 

“The luckiest.” Nolan smirked, pleased with himself. Travis sat down on the couch and leaned into Nolan’s side, looking over his shoulder to Nolan’s phone that was playing one of this or that videos.

“We should make one of those.” Travis gestured to the video. Nolan was watching one of his sister’s tiktoks from the summer. 

Nolan turned and gave Travis a look that basically said “who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” Which like, fair. Travis had been against social media, and was vocal about his low screen time. Which was definitely off-set by the amount of time he spent playing COD with Patty. But he made fun of anything and everything to do with social media.

He shrugged in response to Nolan’s question. “Could be fun? And like, I can totally carry you piggyback.” He laughed. “Nothing serious, all like, hockey stuff? Maybe some hunting?” Travis was definitely not the type to share like, health diagnosis on the internet, but he could say whether he preferred hunting or fishing, top shelf or five hole. That sort of thing.

Nolan nodded, opening the notes app on his phone. “Believe it or not, I did learn how to make these things just from being around them so much. Just like, no dancing.” 

“No dancing.” Travis agreed. He could hold his own on a dancefloor, but these tiktok dance trends were way too complicated. He’d had enough of watching Haysie try to learn the WAP dance in the bubble. The images were scarred into his brain. 

Nolan was writing out an actual list of this or that for them to choose from. Shoots right or shoots left, mouthguard, yes or no, hunting or fishing. Travis had no idea this much thought had to go into this.

“Blondes or brunettes?” Nolan asked, his voice almost bored. 

“Depends on the day.” Nolan rolled his eyes at that. “Cause like,” Travis continued, “sometimes your hair is blond and sometimes it's brown and it’s very confusing.” 

“Stupid question. I’m throwing it out.” Nolan decided before Travis could have a full on breakdown over the color of his boyfriend’s hair. 

The tiktok took over an hour to film, which Travis was not expecting when he’d suggested the idea. Nolan was determined to finish it though, and it’s not like they had anything better to do with their time. They wouldn’t be heading into training camp until after New Years, and Christmas was over. Travis’ apartment wasn’t particularly decorated, since he’d come back to the States after the holiday. They’d had to clear out some space in the hallway, which had been covered in hockey equipment and various suitcases. 

They’d ended up watching more of those videos to get ideas, for their own, and Travis was ready to never hear this stupid song again. 

“We should ask to film the last one at the rink.” Nolan suggested, looking at his list. They’d covered hunting, fishing, planes and buses, equipment brands, soda or water, typical stuff.| “What’s the category?” Travis asked. He was currently digging through his gear bag looking for an extra Flyers beanie for baseball caps vs toques. 

“Top shelf vs five hole. Maybe it could be fun to get some of the guys involved.”

It was Travis’ turned to raise an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

Nolan rolled his eyes in response and shrugged. “I mean, it could be fun. I haven’t seen them in a while, do something with the team.” His voice was especially mumbly now. It got that way when he was feeling emotional and didn’t want anyone else to know. Travis was tempted to tease him about it, but chirping Nolan about his emotions was like skating on an edge. One movement too far, and you fall flat on your face. 

Instead of chirping Nolan about it, he smiled, walked over and kissed his head. “I’ll text the group chat. Tell G to make it mandatory team bonding.” TK lowered his voice into what was honestly a horrible impression of their captain. “Everyone better be in Patty’s tiktok tomorrow or your footing the next team dinner.” But it made Nolan chuckle so that’s all that really mattered. 

“You’re an idiot.” He smiled, reaching over to press a kiss to TK’s lips. Travis pressed into it, reaching up to grab at Nolan’s long hair. 

“Idea.” Travis said against Nolan’s lips. “We table this tiktok shit for tomorrow and we spend the next hour making out-” he cut off as Nolan but at his lip. 

“Why are you so incapable of shutting up.” He muttered, pulling Travis into his lap. And like, yeah Travis was totally on board with this. 

“Alright everyone! I have an announcement.” Travis yelled to the locker room as they got dressed for practice the next day. He’d forgotten to text the group chat after getting distracted by Nolan and then his phone was dead and then he figured he’d see everyone at practice anyway. 

“Did you finally propose?” Provy shouted back, throwing a roll of tape at TK’s head. Which like, rude. 

“Did Patty finally propose?” Haysie countered, laughing as Nolan threw a dirty sock at his face.

“No, no ones getting married. Patty wants everyone to help him make a tiktok because he’s Gen Z trash.”

The locker room exploded in laughter and chirps. 

“What’s a tiktok?”

“Will we be expected to dance?”

“I had enough of that WAP shit in the playoffs.”

Travis tuned them all out. Nolan was taking the reins now, explaining to everyone what he needed to make this. It turns out he’d already arranged it with the PR team, which explained why he was all brains, brawn and beauty in this relationship. They would be spending an extra hour after practice filming this, but it was totally worth it in Travis’ opinion. Nolan was back on the ice in Flyers orange, where he belonged. The season wouldn’t be starting for another few weeks, and if goofing around with his teammates is what Nolan needed, then Travis was going to support him. Even if it meant Haysie giving him a piggyback ride on the ice.