#what if... i started trying to post my daily sentences here

[merrilark]

日本語のクラスが好きです。先生はとても優しいです。

[joaeriz]

8 LETTERS (Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader)

📎 inspired by “8 Letters” by Why Don’t We 📖 fluff | slow burn | soft romance | college AU 💌 word count: ~2.8k

summary: When Y/N is assigned to write a feature on UConn’s star player Paige Bueckers, the last thing she expects is late-night FaceTimes, secret hangouts, and catching real feelings. As the line between friendship and something more starts to blur, both girls are left wondering if they’re brave enough to say the eight letters that could change everything.

authors note: (Okay, so before you jump in—I just wanna say I had so much fun writing this. It’s honestly a mix of two of my favorite things ever: Paige Bueckers (who I adore) and “8 Letters” by Why Don’t We (which lives rent-free in my head, always). The idea hit me out of nowhere—like, what if that kind of soft, slow, “I love you but I’m scared to say it” kind of story played out between Y/N and Paige? And it just spiraled from there in the best way. I got way too emotionally invested in these two (not sorry), and writing all the cute moments, the late-night FaceTimes, and the feelings they’re both too scared to admit? Ugh. I loved every second.So if you’re into a little angst, a lot of softness, and some seriously sweet vibes, I hope this gives you butterflies the way it gave me butterflies writing it. Thanks for reading—it means so much. — Jo)

P.s: this is my first fic i have posted on here!! Im not new at writing, but let me know if you guys want more :)

You weren’t supposed to fall in love with your story subject.

That was rule number one of journalism school. No dating your interviewees, no crushes on profile pieces, no getting involved. But rules felt irrelevant the first time Paige Bueckers smiled at you like you were more than another face with a notepad.

Your assignment was simple—write a semester-long feature on the UConn women’s basketball team for the student paper. Paige, naturally, was the center of the piece. A star on and off the court. Already a national name. Every sports journalist dreamed of covering her.

You were supposed to remain objective.

Instead, you were falling for her.

Hard.

—

It started with a dead recorder.

Your first real conversation wasn’t planned—unless you count fate as a planner. You’d been huddled near the sideline at practice, trying to record a quote from one of the assistant coaches when your recorder sputtered out and died mid-sentence. You swore under your breath and slapped it, like that ever helped.

Paige had been walking by, sipping on a water bottle, and stopped. “Need backup?”

You looked up, startled. “Only if you’ve got a time machine.”

She smiled. “Nope. But I’ve got the Voice Memos app.”

She handed over her phone like it was no big deal—like she hadn’t just offered you her lifeline. You blinked. “You trust a random reporter with your phone?”

“You don’t seem like the type to scroll through texts.” She leaned in with a smirk. “Besides, you’ve got an honest face. And a tragic relationship with electronics.”

You laughed, cheeks heating. She stayed next to you for a few minutes, watching as you wrapped up your interview with her phone in hand. When it was over, she texted you the audio file with the message:

“Try not to let your technology trauma ruin your career.”

You responded with a lame thank-you and a joke about threatening your recorder with a hammer. You didn’t expect her to reply.

But she did.

“Violence is rarely the answer, but I’ll allow it.”

From there, it snowballed. Texts turned into full-blown threads. Threads into daily check-ins. She started sending random memes between practices—some sports-related, some completely unhinged—and you’d match her energy with cursed TikToks and sarcastic commentary.

Then came the first FaceTime.

You were editing audio at 11:47 p.m. when her name lit up your screen. Paige Bueckers is FaceTiming you.

You stared at it for a second. Then answered.

She was wrapped in a hoodie with damp hair and tired eyes, lying in bed. “Hey,” she said softly. “Didn’t wanna be alone tonight.”

That first call lasted three hours.

You talked about everything: your major, her injuries, your complicated relationship with your hometown, her fear of letting people down. She confessed that sometimes, the pressure made her want to run away to a place where no one knew her name.

You said you understood.

After that, it became routine. Late-night FaceTimes. Morning Snapchats. Study breaks where she'd call and say, “Tell me something random,” and you’d ramble about your day while she half-listened, half-dozed.

—

The first time you hung out outside of school was under the guise of an interview follow-up.

She invited you to a local coffee shop—some cozy little place with plants in every window and tables just slightly too small. You showed up with your laptop and pages of notes. Paige showed up in a hoodie and beanie, no makeup, looking infuriatingly good.

You talked for two hours.

Only twenty minutes was about basketball.

She paid for your drink when you weren’t looking.

“I’ll Venmo you,” you said, pretending to dig for your phone.

She just shrugged. “Nah. Call it a reporter’s hazard fee.”

After that came more not-quite-dates. Study sessions in the campus library where she never actually studied. Walks through the trail behind the dorms where she'd kick pebbles and talk about life like it was something she hadn’t quite figured out yet.

One night, she invited you to “movie night” with the team.

You showed up with snacks and nerves, expecting a whole crowd.

But it was just her.

Two mugs of hot chocolate already on the table. A blanket tossed casually over the couch. She tried to play it off. “The others bailed,” she claimed with a sheepish shrug.

She was a terrible liar.

You stayed anyway.

She fell asleep halfway through the second movie with her head on your shoulder, and you didn’t dare move.

After that night, everything shifted.

—

There were moments. God, there were moments.

The way her hand would brush yours when she passed you something and linger—just a second too long. The way she’d light up when you walked into a room, like you were the only one she’d been waiting for. How she’d say things like:

“Sometimes I forget how to breathe around you.”

And then immediately pretend it was a joke.

You wanted to say it.

You almost did—on Valentine’s Day, when she left a note in your dorm mailbox with a chocolate bar and the words “you’re my favorite notification.”

But you chickened out.

Because if she didn’t feel the same way, you’d lose her. And that possibility was more terrifying than staying quiet.

But then came the silence.

She started pulling away. Fewer texts. Missed calls. Short replies like:

“Practice ran late.” “Sorry, just tired.” “Talk soon?”

And soon became never.

Until the day it broke.

—

It was cold. Rainy. The kind of day that made everything feel heavier. You were walking past the practice facility, hood up, heart aching, when you saw her.

Paige. Alone. Leaning against the wall like she was waiting for something—or someone.

You slowed. She looked up.

“I think we should stop,” she said.

Your stomach dropped. “Stop…?”

“This. Us. I don’t know what this is to you, and I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with not knowing.”

You blinked, throat closing.

“I’m not asking you to guess,” you managed to say.

“Well, then tell me,” she whispered. “Because I think about you all the time, and I don’t know how to make it stop. And it hurts, Y/N. It hurts not knowing if I’m just another story to you.”

And finally—finally—you said the words.

“You asked what love looks like to me.”

She held her breath.

“It looks like you. Like FaceTime calls at midnight and cold coffee on a Sunday morning. It’s how you fight through everything and still smile like you’re not carrying the weight of the world. I didn’t say it before because I was scared, but I’m more scared of losing you.”

Her eyes glossed. She stepped closer.

“You love me?” she asked, barely a whisper.

“I do.”

And when she kissed you, it was soft and shaky and real. Like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.

—

That night, your article sat unfinished.

She lay beside you on your tiny dorm bed, her hand brushing yours under the covers, the silence between you humming with peace.

“Say it again,” she murmured.

You smiled.

“I love you.”

Eight letters.

—

It had been twenty-six days since you told Paige you loved her.

Twenty-six days since she kissed you in the rain like her world had just started spinning again.

Twenty-six days since things finally became real.

And every single one of those days had felt like waking up in the softest dream.

Being with Paige wasn’t loud or flashy—not most of the time. It was slow mornings in bed, tangled limbs and quiet whispers. It was FaceTiming just to sit in silence while you both worked. It was warm hoodies borrowed without asking, and her stealing your socks because “they’re the soft ones.”

It was peace.

One Sunday morning, you found her asleep on your couch, wearing your crewneck and hugging your stuffed animal. She’d crashed the night before after watching movies in your room, the two of you curled together on your tiny dorm bed until she got too warm and rolled onto the floor, dramatically sighing, “This is why we need a queen-sized mattress and a lease.”

You’d laughed, thinking she was joking.

Then she blinked up at you and said, totally serious, “Like… a place. You and me. Off campus. Someday.”

Your heart soared, and you tucked the idea away like a wish on a star.

Later, she sleepily mumbled, “I want you in my mornings and my nights.”

And you knew she meant it.

—

Dating Paige came with little adventures.

Like the time she surprised you with a picnic—on a Tuesday.

You’d been having the worst week: deadlines, papers, zero sleep. Paige texted you in the middle of class: “Be ready at 6. Trust me.”

You met her behind the student union, expecting takeout and a movie.

Instead, she’d laid out a blanket under a canopy of fairy lights she somehow got from the volleyball team’s gear closet. There was music playing from a Bluetooth speaker, a thermos of your favorite hot cocoa, and a little box of cupcakes from the bakery you once mentioned you liked.

“I know you’re overwhelmed,” she said, pulling you into a hug. “So I’m forcing you to pause. Just for tonight.”

You nearly cried.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered.

She kissed your forehead and grinned. “Nah. We deserve each other.”

—

Her love came in a thousand small ways.

When your period hit hard, she showed up with snacks, heating pads, and the world’s ugliest cartoon pajamas she said were “scientifically proven to improve moods.” (They did.)

When she won a game, she didn’t go out with the team—she came to your place and danced with you barefoot in the kitchen to 2000s R&B.

When you got a bad grade on a paper and spiraled about being “not good enough,” she held your face in her hands and said, “You’re brilliant. One grade doesn’t get to rewrite the story.”

She never let you forget your worth—even when you did.

—

Your favorite tradition was Sunday mornings.

You’d wake up slow—her arm slung lazily around your waist, her cheek against your shoulder. She always looked soft in the mornings, voice scratchy, hair messy, face unfiltered.

“Don’t look at me,” she’d mumble, burying her face in the pillow.

You always did anyway.

You’d take turns making breakfast—read: burning toast and debating whether Pop-Tarts counted as a real meal. You’d play records on your vintage player, dance around the room in socks, kiss in the doorway like it was a scene from a movie.

She called you “home” once.

You didn’t say anything in return.

You just pulled her into your chest and held her tighter than words could manage.

—

There were no more secrets now.

People knew. Slowly, sure. But Paige had started holding your hand in public. At first on quieter streets, where no one looked. Then at campus parties. Then at a game.

After a home win, she ran over to the bleachers—where you were waiting—and kissed you in front of a thousand fans and a dozen cameras.

“I love you,” she said breathlessly. “Needed you to know before anything else.”

The video went viral. The team teased her endlessly.

She didn’t care.

Neither did you.

—

One night, lying in bed with your laptop open on your stomach and Paige half-asleep beside you, you said, “This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

She looked up. “Because of me?”

You smiled. “Because of us.”

She kissed your shoulder and whispered, “Let’s stay like this forever.”

And maybe the future held more challenges—graduation, jobs, long-distance talks if things got complicated.

But for now, you had everything you needed.

Her heartbeat beside yours. Her laughter echoing in your chest. And the words you once feared to say now lived freely between you.

“I love you.” Eight letters. Forever on repeat.

[dreambunnynotes]

bunny's 60-day glow up challenge ❤︎

hi my loves! my birthday is right around the corner and i want to end the year strong, so i thought it would be a cute and encouraging idea to host a challenge for all of us glow-up girlies! the steps for the challenge are very simple and customizable, and they give plenty of space for low-energy days. this challenge is all about trying your best to remain consistent in your goals, not to strive for an impossible "perfection" but instead to build trust in yourself that you can show up for your beautiful self and achieve the glow up that you deserve!

steps for the challenge:

pick three habits or things you want to dedicate time to every day

write a sentence or two on why you want to focus on these habits so that you have motivation and inspiration to complete them on hard days; this could include a basic "why" or you could write out specific goals you'd like to achieve through these habits

write out three different energy level variations of the habits so you can achieve your habits even on low-energy days

optional step: write an intro post sharing your habits and goals with everyone! you can use the tag #bunny60days to connect with others doing the challenge and hype each other up with accountability and love - you can also tag me and i can cheer you on hehe! 🥰 otherwise you can simply keep track on your own using a journal or planner or whatever works best for you!

optional step: write daily (or weekly) check-in posts sharing what you accomplished on the different days of the challenge, what you'd like to improve on the next day, or just a general update on how you're feeling. remember that this is a feel-good challenge, not a shame-filled one, so be kind to yourself and use this reflection as a way to show compassion and empathy to yourself 💕 again, you can use the tag #bunny60days to track your progress and see how others are doing!

the only very important rule for this challenge:

if you fall off and don't complete every habit you've written down in a day, do not start the challenge over, just pick up from where you left off! remember, this challenge is about building self-trust and resiliency - this means that you won't let one bad day or break in a streak stop you from continuing your habits. being "strong and hardworking" doesn't mean doing everything perfectly from day one, it means picking yourself up when you fall off course and trying again even though you may feel imperfect.

why only three habits?

when we do challenges, it's so easy to want to accomplish everything all at once, from working out to sleep schedules to everything in between. however, when you eventually burn yourself out or don't complete everything on your super long list of habits, shame is bound to follow, and shame does not make healthy soil for a beautiful plant to grow. starting off with three habits with different energy levels is a good way to ease into habit building while still feeling challenging enough to be interesting.

i don't know where to begin! can you give me an example of some habits or goals?

absolutely! if you'd like an example, you can check out my own personal goals for the challenge here. i'll be participating too, so you know that you have at least one person joining you in your glow up! 🥰 there is also a blank template below for you to use for your own glow up adventure.

blank template for you:

my chosen habits:

-

-

-

my goals and why's:

habit one:

habit two:

habit three:

my habit energy tiers:

habit one:

low energy:

medium energy:

high energy:

habit two:

low energy:

medium energy:

high energy:

habit three:

low energy:

medium energy:

high energy:

let's do this! bunny xoxo

[isadelusions]

Daisuke [Mouthwashing]

| vlogger x editor(reader) au | fem reader | fluff | pt1 > pt2

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

Pretty Duo hm?

- He’s been making videos for quite a while and hired an editor because he isn’t too experienced with editing.

- He makes a video pretty much every week, sends it to you, tells you some details he would for his video with a little, you’ll edit, sends the finished product, he loves it and post. Repeat.

- After a few weeks, the both of you started chatting with each other regularly,checking up on each other, talked about the similar hobbies you guys share, laughing at each other’s cringe roblox usernames. You guys even decided to have matching avatars.

-From chatting daily to having voice calls for random game nights to FaceTiming. You were shy at first to reveal your face but as time goes by, you eventually got comfortable with it. (Bro was gagged by your face card)

“I must be lucky to have a pretty editor like you. ;)” ,that line totally send butterflies to your stomach.

- One time he asked if you would like to be in a video and play roblox with him. At first you were quite hesitant since his number of followers were slowly rising and afraid that it would destruct his fans.

“Well if they start hating me, just let them. I rather have that then having some fake fans you know??” “Plus I’m just here to have fun so what can they do? Mhm?”

- After his reassurance, you agreed and record the video together online.

—— ✿ ——

“heyyy guysss I’m back again to play some roblox BUT this time with some company, guys act shocked act shocked,just kidding. Anyways this time I’ll be playing with my lovely editor~”, his screen showing both him and your avatar, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

There was a long pause. “Um…hi?” You said awkwardly as you don’t have much experience being recorded.

But after a while,you got used to it and the both of you decided to play some two player obbies. At first it was going smoothly, just simple jumps and walks. However, when you guys got closer to the end, the difficulty rises.

“DAISUKE PLEASE DONT MISS THE JUMP OR I MIGHT ACTUALLY BREAK. DOWN.”

“STOPP,YOUR STRESSING ME PRETTY GIRLL”

Your skin tingles every time he calls you that but it didn’t make you feel better. He indeed did miss the jump.

…a very long silence

“Alright,breathe in….and breathe out… We can do this..”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, let’s try one last time before I might actually start raging”

You guys were extremely locked in and passed the final stage miraculously.

“WE DID ITTT (y/n), YAYYY”

“EYY GOODJOBB”

You made your character walk in circles around daisuke’s character and he mirrors your actions too.

You then looked at the time to realise it took almost two hours to complete the obbies, it’s already 1am which is quite alright since we’re used to it but you suddenly remembered you had other ‘important’ plans in the morning and cut off daisuke’s next sentence.

“hmm what should we play next-”

“As much as I would love to continue this all with you but I really have to head to bed right now”

“Ouh finally sleeping quite earlier then usual, aren’t we?”

“well I do have plans for tomorrow, quite important to me heh..”

“Okayy then, have a good sle-” he then pauses, his mind recalling his previous chats with you and the puzzle pieces matched. “Wait, your going to that cat cafe you talked about right??? I do remember you sending me a post about it opening for tomorrow or more like ‘later in the morning’ hmm?”

“Yeaaa, oh wait I did told you about it.”

“Could I go with you,pleasee. It’s not too far from my area and plus you get to meet ‘this gorgeous cool guy’ for first time in your lifeee.”

You felt a mixed of frustration and butterflies by the sudden plan of his, “mhmmm sure I don’t mind honestly”

“wait really??” “Ofcourse”

“I’ll text you the details later before I head to bed, I gotta go get myself cleaned up. Do remember to send me the clips before heading to bed. Soo I’ll see you tomorrow then hm? ;)”

“Yupp, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Have a good sleep if it’s possible~”

��Alright, goodnight pretty boy” You immediately left the call and got up from your seat, heading to the bathroom to get a quick wash up.

The excitement for ‘tomorrow’ was rising in you but yet feeling nervous and curious. How tall would he be? Would his behaviour be completely different? The thoughts were filling up your mind.

You head to bed with your phone, texting him about the plans while your allow your body to lay on the bed,sheets covering your body, head against your soft pillow.

“How about we meet up at a metro station first? Then we could walk tgt to the cat cafe? How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds great to me;)”

Daisuke replied almost instantly and brought up about having matching outfits and of course you couldn’t turn that offer down.

“hmm let’s match in colours then?”

“Suree”

“Any colours in mind?”

“Hmm, not really”

“Me too honestly. How about I’ll choose it tmr while I pick my outfit hm?”

“Sure but don’t be too lateee”

“Says the one who rarely reads chats in the morning”

“Man shut it, as if you’ll wake up in time”

“Okay okay you win. I guess I gonna sleep now or I’ll be late right, pretty?”

“Alright, goodnight to you”

“Night to you as well”

A small smile plastered across your face as you place your phone onto the small table beside you.

It def took you almost like an hour to only fall asleep due to your own excitement.

-I can picture daisuke kicking his own legs before having his sleep lol

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

I think it will take a long while for me to post the next parts for this,I’m still new to writing and honestly I’m scared I won’t be able to write the next part. Anyways I hope you guys had a little joy in reading this,take care of your health!loveyouu byee~ :o

[love-toxin]

billy brainrot🤭 xxxi. "You're mine. Get that through your dense little brain." with him after a breakup!! pretty please

took me 1001 years to finish this but here i am babey

(cws: violent behavior, jealousy, toxic relationship, gn pronouns + fem nickname, possessiveness, post-breakup sex, needy billy, vaguely dubcon, shower sex, pet names, gaslighting)

Billy broke it off with you, not the other way around. He should not be the one banging on your front door, waiting by your car to catch you on the way to work, bothering you at your job to try and talk to you--and he especially should not be sabotaging your dates with other guys by showing up and causing a scene.

Punching your car window and dragging your date out to get into a fistfight with him? It's about as mature as a twelve year old's attitude. It was a first date too, not even that serious.

But that's just Billy. Just like it's quintessential for him to act all offended afterwards, like he's the one that's been put out cause you got mad at him. Then he starts up with the sweet talking, the "c'mon, mama", the kissing on your neck and telling you he missed you when you know he was messing with at least three other girls just this week. There's no reasoning with him, nor any point in entertaining his immature frame of mind. He's messed up and violent--a dangerous and unlikely-to-last cocktail for a partner.

Yet it's no surprise that you ended up in the showers with him, the pool empty and the parking lot dark since it's well close to midnight. You shouldn't have forced him to sit down with the first aid kit when he refused to go to the hospital for his cuts and that sprained shoulder--"'m not a pussy"--he said. It's different once the hot water hits his body, when he's got his hands bracing the wall behind you and his eyes burning a hole through your skull.

"You're mine." He growls over the hail of thudding water on linoleum. His skin burns as it slides over yours. "Get that through your dense little brain."

His muscles pin you like a brick wall against the shower, too broad and too strong for you to possibly resist. He slides your thigh up his hip to hook your leg around it, using the leverage to bump the tip of his rock-solid cock against you. That kiss he gives you is searing.

"Billy," You moan between kisses, your sentence finishing in a gasp as he slides in with a smirk. "You're an ass."

"You love me."

Thump. "No I don't." Thump. Each thrust knocks your head back against the tile, but Billy's hand creeps up to cushion it on the third time onward.

"You'd bite my dick off right now if you didn't."

"Nnh. I might still do it," Your warning comes with absolutely no venom, not nearly enough to wipe that grin from Billy's face as he gets exactly what he wants. Your answer makes him chuckle while he repositions you, hikes your other leg up with a grunt to hold you up against the shower wall. With both hands free you can cup his face as he makes out with you, adding to his perception that this is really what you wanted all along as your touches reminisce on a time not so long ago. When fucking in the pool room showers was a daily occurrence, tending his wounds was a kindness, and hearing him say 'I love you' felt like it actually had some meaning. Now it just feels like it's meant to placate you.

"Put on a condom, at least, you animal." You mutter amongst the sounds of skin slapping, tongues meeting teeth, and your back hitting the wet tile.

"I love you." He murmurs back. His voice rumbles against your throat, preceeding a soft but stinging bite that leaves a mark behind. You've got no idea what that answer means, but maybe it, too, means nothing. He could just be ignoring you for all you know.

"I'll pull out, baby. Y'know I will." Billy nips at your lower lip when he finally raises his head from your neck, having not had enough of using his teeth, evidently. "C'mon, mama. Love you."

"Quit it." That nickname hits you in the chest like a hammer on cloth, more than even those promises of love. He liked to tease you with that, then it became a term of endearment. You've always cared for him; reassuring his difficult emotions, cooling his anger, tending his wounds, even cooking for him and giving him affection in the simplest ways. Maybe that's why he's not letting you go. He can't do any better, but he can't let go of the only comfort he can find.

"That's it, baby..." He's losing himself now. His thrusts are aggravated, growing more aggressive as he reaches the finish line. His eyes squeeze shut and his grip tightens on your hair as his hips buck faster. "Squeeze down on it. That's it--that's, there--oh, fuck!"

The end comes as a surprise, a sudden moment of pleasure that overwhelms his ability to hold out. Billy's weight presses into you and you know--you just know by that distinct pulse inside you--that he's not pulling out like he said. Your nails dig deep scratches up his back as he closes in on it, harshly pressing your hips completely still as he forces himself past that one, last boundary that could've still allowed him an out. Now there's no choice but to drain himself inside you; cum splattering in thick drops down the drain as your legs tremble with pleasure. He always manages to get it on the last try--triggering your orgasm like it's a switch at the last possible moment. But he never misses, not even once.

Now it's sinking in. You're floating off your feet, barely able to stand when he finally lowers you down, and you have to let him hold you just so you don't fall. As much as you want to push him away, he made it so you need him to rely on. Again. And you don't feel as bad about it as you should.

"Break up with that dickhead." Billy growls into your ear, suddenly riled up again--probably over his own thoughts more than anything else. The way he has to tilt his head down just to reach your ear is a new level of intimidating...and regrettably, incredibly hot. "We need to get back together."

"You'll change your mind once your brain evicts itself from your dick." You mumble dismissively, nudging his arm down so you can grab a towel. But he stops you--he blocks you back under the water, his mouth barely a hair's width from yours as he whispers.

"I want you back, baby."

"This was a mistake. It was a first date anyways, weren't even 'together' in the first place...and I still don't want you back."

"Doesn't change the fact that I love you. We fit together." He murmurs into another kiss that you less than reluctantly accept. A lock of your hair curls around his bronzed skin as he twirls it round his finger. "Think about it, at least. I know you want it."

"Why the hell would I?"

"Cause you can't last a week without fucking me." That, at least, is true. But that doesn't...mean anything. Plenty of people backslide, it doesn't mean you're still in love with him. You turn your head in a pout and he smirks at the idea that he's right.

"I like your dick. Not you."

"Then take it every day." He grabs your hand and moves it over his crotch, just to laugh when you yank it away and slap him. It's not hard. Much less hard enough to make him feel anything but affection at how feisty you still are. "You're still mine. My pretty little slut-"

As he whispers low in your ear you finally break away from him, just barely stepping out of the shower when he grabs your ass on the way out. You have to wrench his wrist off to get him to let go and that's fortunately enough for him, but it doesn't change the downright predatory stare he gives you as he watches you dry off and get your clothes back on in a hurry.

"Come by the quarry later. Tomorrow. Let's have some fun in our old spot."

"Don't count on it."

You're done up and out the door before he knows it. Your car revs up in the parking lot outside before peeling out like a madwoman--and he can only imagine the way you're yelling and hitting your steering wheel as you drive, trying and failing to force your thoughts of him out of your head and the way that orgasm felt rippling through you, just as good as he always makes it feel.

He'll definitely be seeing you at the quarry tomorrow night.

[taintandviolent]

Knead ; Kit Walker x reader

summary: Kit hasn’t been coping well with Briarcliff life, and developed an unhealthy solution to the numbness he feels on a daily basis. You’re a perfect, beautiful part of his plan.

word count: 1.7K

w a r n i n g s: hurt, angst, depression, kind of whump, brief mentions of smut, female receiving, violence, fist fights and brief mention of injuries.

a/n: my first official Kit Walker fic!! requested by an anonymous!! anon; hope this is what you had in mind and I delivered!! I tried to focus more on Kit’s motivations and issues than the smut, so that’s why it’s a little lighter on the fucking this go round! I dunno why I struggle writing for Kit so much, aaaaah! also written at work, so usual apologies for any disjointed or clunky writing!!!

full fic under the cut! / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of future fics!

The storm raged on outside, a horrible deluge that had lasted days. Kit's dark eyes flitted to the clock on the wall. The hands ticked by but time never seemed to change. Not here. He needed to feel something. Anything. The days turned into weeks, weeks into months and nothing ever changed. He was an accused man, previously compos mentis, but with his surroundings, that title deteriorated gradually.

Kit Walker was losing it. Slowly, but surely. The cold, grey tone of Briarcliff was swallowing him whole, like a starved, but fading beast. Days were the worst - at least come evening, he could sleep. With sleep, came dreams. Dreams of somewhere else, dreams of you. Days were long and dreary, and Kit soon realized that the only thing that mattered were physical feelings. His mind wasn't a safe place to be. The truth of it was, Kit felt his fire burning out, and started acting out.

First, it was intentionally burning the biscuits. He was reprimanded and sentenced to biscuit duty for the next two weeks. Then it was sneaking out from the common room on repeated occasions, sulking along the hallways as though he wanted to get caught. Deep down, he did. Reprimanded again, and confined to solitary as punishment. But that afternoon, he craved something deeper. He needed something that would last, and Sister Jude had an unusual streak of mercy lately. It had to be good.

"Hey, sugah’."

Your tired hands stopped their kneading. You looked up, wide-eyed, with a smear of flour across your cheek. He didn't know it, but you'd had a thing - a silly little crush - on Kit Walker since you saw him in the common room during your first week. You'd heard the rumours, but every time you exchanged words, he was the nicest guy you'd ever met. Seemed like he had good, strong family values and manners -- which was more than you could say for most of the men you'd met.

Kit spotted the dash of white and reached out, wiping it away with the pad of his thumb. You really were one of the cutest girls he'd seen since Alma. It wouldn't be hard to do what he wanted... what he needed to do to feel again.

"Hi, Kit." You murmured, frustrated before returning to the pile of off-white dough. The last thing you needed was a distraction; the biscuits were already hard enough to get right, and Sister Jude was a stickler for them being made correctly.

"Whatsa' mattah'?" He could sense your irritation, and furrowed his brows. Maybe his plan wasn't going to work after all.

"I can't... get these darn biscuits right! Every time I try, they come out too hard and I'm just..." You grit your teeth and shoved the mound of dough away from your hands. "I'm so frustrated!"

"Dough duty, huh?"

You nodded, and pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes with your wrist.

"Here, sweethaht', lemme' show you. I've done enough of 'em to know how to do it right."

He was suddenly behind you, his arms stretching out to the table in front of you. He rested his hands atop of yours, and slowly began moving them, kneading them slowly. Much slower and softer than you had been.

"Just like that," he murmured, his lips close to your ear. "You gotta' be gentle with 'em... firm, but not too much... or they'll seize up on ya', makes 'em tough." His words were low and sweet, and you didn't have to try very hard to find another meaning to them. They evoked a deep, body-rocking shiver from your core. It travelled up your spine and made your teeth chatter. Kit laughed breathily behind you.

"Am I doing it right?" You whispered, your voice sweet and demure, laced with intention. "I have a tendency to wanna'... go fast."

"Slooow, sugah', nice n' slow. Othawise..." His teeth grazed your ear. "The dough won't rise."

Without warning, you rutted your ass against his groin, moaning aloud. You ground your ass against him slowly, just like he told you to. Kit made a fist in the dough over yours, forcing your hands deep into the flour. This was progressing faster than he expected. He hadn't known you'd be so willing to his advances. His cock twitched to life, tightening the front of his pants.

"You want it bad, sugah'?"

"I want it bad," you echoed. Suddenly, all worries of getting caught went out the window, you were no longer concerned about which Sister would find you - you just wanted him.

It had been weeks since either of you felt intimacy, felt that clawing hunger as it boiled in your core. You whimpered and dropped your head to his shoulder.

"Let me feel you, Kit... please..."

Kit ripped his flour-covered fingers from the dough, and reached back to his crotch, pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. He flipped the edge of your uniform up, and pressed his heavy cock against the curve of your ass. The sensation was indescribable, and he let out a throaty groan.

The hunger had him. The hunger, and the promise of punishment. Your body was soft and sweet like the dough in front of you two and had him going, that was undeniable, but the threat was what was really driving him forward. He needed to feel everything he could. He took hold of his cock, stroking it slowly against your ass cheeks, feeling the precum as it leaked into his hands.

Kit's free hand wrapped around your hips again, urging them backwards into his own. You whimpered, letting him take full control. Your fingers were still embedded in the dough, squeezing through the spaces between your digits.

With a deep sound, Kit slipped himself inside you. Your walls squeezed around him as he plunged himself as deep as he could, humping you hard. His thrusts were determined, but steady and slow. Just like he'd said...

You reached around to take hold of his soft brown hair, making a fist in the locks. He didn't care that your fingers were covered in flour, and it was falling into the collar of his shirt. He didn't care about anything except what he was feeling.

Touch-starved, it didn't take him long to climax. Kit emptied his load inside you, pumping it deep. You whimpered, rolling your lips inward to soften the moans. You were close behind him, and when he whispered in your ear, begging you to do it, you did.

Kit heard the heavy bootsteps before you did. But he didn't move. He was ready.

"Hey! What in the hell do you think you're doin'!?" The orderly bellowed, and Kit yanked his softening cock from you. Your legs twitched together as it left you, the slippery feeling sending another wave of pleasure through you.

Phase two of his plan was in action. Kit stepped in front of you, fists raised in front of his face. He pumped, and threw the first punch, making contact with the guy's cheekbone. He reeled back, touching his skin to see if he'd broken skin -- he hadn't. But he was going to pay for that.

Fortunately for Kit and his now-sick need, he hit him back, harder, splitting his lip immediately. You spun around, pressing your back against the table, covering your mouth in horror as the two men fought.

The man threw a hard left hook and Kit went down, falling to the cold cement floor with a thud. You could do nothing but scream, begging for him to stop. Through winces, Kit looked up at you and shook his head. To you, he was being noble. To him, he was revelling in the pain he was feeling and wanted nothing to interrupt it.

~

"Assaulting an orderly, Mr. Walker?"

"Yes, Sistah'. He looked at me sideways."

"He interrupted your fornication, is what he did." She sternly remarked. Kit swallowed, looking down at his feet. The punishment was coming - he wouldn't have been called into her office otherwise.

"Seems like he got the better of you." She gestured to him pointedly. He had, that was true. Kit had gotten a few good punches in, but the orderly was bigger and brawnier, and had walloped him as soon as he'd gotten the chance. The cut on his lip stung every time he spoke, and his ribs were definitely bruised from the steel-toed berrage that he'd endured earlier.

"Over my desk," she rasped. Kit was almost excited -- a disgusting, disappointing feeling that he knew, deep down, he shouldn't be feeling. But a feeling was a feeling and he had to ride it out, in whatever way he could.

"Sistah' Jude," he interjected, as he bent over the modest wooden desk. "I'm sahrry' for what I did but don't punish her. She didn't do anything. It was all me."

"Mr. Walker," she replied. "I'll do exactly as I see fit."

The first hit stung. She was using the wooden switch, and it sliced through the air with an audible thwip. It burned against his skin, sweltering hot heat coursing over his cheeks and the back of his thighs. Tears bit at the corner of his eyes, it felt so terrible. That was just it -- it felt so terrible. He hadn't felt this much in weeks.

She hit him again, just above the spot where she'd previously hit. Kit winced again, clenching his fists hard atop her desk. Another one, and the tears streamed down his cheeks. He inhaled through clenched teeth and exhaled hard through his nose with each hit. Sister Jude's kind streak had ended, and she was unrelenting.

Twelve hits later, she finally stopped. Kit was sent back to his room, welted and bruised all over, but hell... at least he felt something.

[alwayscorvus]

i have no idea whether or not you take request but ill just shoot my shot ( if u dont take reqs, its a-okay, you can just ignore this)

but if you do, would it be fine for me to request a fic with reader x werewolf!yuanwu ( too late for Halloween? perhaps, but its never a wrong time to enjoy some good supernatural stuff) and something about transformation and discovering about yuanwu's condition ( you dont have to rigidly follow this one, you have full creative freedom over this one)

im currently going insane w the lack of yuanwu content and my brain decides to make me more feral by giving an idea for werewolf!yuanwu <`3

Bittberry Tea

malereader x werewolf!Yuanwu, fluff;

one thing for sure, we both have a great sense of timing when it comes to "Halloween" vibes. I take requests but just hardly ever have time to write them (I mean... I have time for writing just not for translating it later...). So maybe u already forgot about your Yuanwu's phase... Still thanks a lot for it!

even if its not the best, it's probably the longest post i have ever written... and I will try to never make the same mistake again, so enjoy!

Sometimes changes in life weren't as bad as they might seem. Sometimes they opened up a doors for new opportunities.

Or at least that's what your father always said.

That's why when you had to move back to Jinzhou in order to take charge of family business, you weren't really bothered. After all, you had always been prepared for such a turn of events. You went on a trip around the world, met true masters in their fields and gained a knowledge in subjects of tea brewing and herb gathering, just because of that. Also, your father was getting older and his condition didn't really allow him to continue his work.

Time to use your hard-earned skills and expand Liuxian Teahouse's business by opening up customers to a new exotic flavors, has finally come.

But of course, road to success couldn't be too easy. And your enthusiasm was bound to run into a wall called "reality". That definitely chilled your father's dreams. Maybe your traditional teahouse wasn't going to rack and ruin, but for the past decade it clearly didn't live up to its potential in gaining more popularity. And you were the one who was supposed to change that. However, your customers didn't really seem to follow this vision. They were terrified of trying anything new. But surprisingly, you weren't completely taken aback by their attitude and still tried to convince them to new flavors and techniques.

Especially one particular person. Which was stubborn like no one else. And which, despite many attempts, never gave up in sticking to their old habits.

When you returned to Jinzhou, staff introduced him to you as a regular customer of your tea shop. Technically he was there first and that gave him a big advantage over you. But in the end, precisely because of that reason, you couldn't let him win.

How could a person who saw you almost every day miss out so much by closing themselves on only one solution?

-Yuanwu - you announced in an anticipating voice at the sight of a newly arriving customer. Almost feeling happy with the idea of your victim finally getting caught into a trap.

Man looked at you with slightly frightened eyes. He really hoped that he wouldn't find you behind a counter today.

Or let's be honest… it was a lie.

Subconsciously, he really wanted to see you. After all, he started coming here more often precisely because of you. Not like before; once or twice a week, but for the past six months almost daily. Just to see your warm smile and exchange a few sentences about how he was doing. He didn't feel the need to talk about himself. If he did, he always had a plenty of people in his gym that he could burden with his thoughts. Yet, he didn't. The only reason why he was getting out of his comfort zone was your charming voice… As soothing as a warm coat on an icy night, as hot as freshly brewed tea and as refreshing as a breeze of spring. Combination that Yuanwu loved and that he could listen to over and over again. Even if it was limited to just few simple answers, winks and snorts of laughter. Oh, how much Yuanwu would give to be able to hear more. Especially about you. Curiosity got the best of him.

But not today. Not during this period. Especially when this was getting closer.

-You weren't here yesterday -you pointed out correctly, trying to let his guard down- A tough fight?

You referred to this tournament that Yuanwu's gym had recently held while rolling up your sleeves to slowly get down to brewing his tea.

Man only mumbled at this with a nod. He really was exhausted. This season was seriously giving him a hard time, and this responsibilities that he had added to himself weren't really helping. But at first, he thought they would be the perfect solution to occupy his thoughts and give him a great excuse to not visit you until everything would be resolved. And while he actually managed to act wisely yesterday, today his instincts didn't let him. And brought him right at your door. Yuanwu hated that, it made him act completely like not him. He became hyperactive and relied on raw force as if in his teenage years. But he couldn't help it, even his calm approach wasn't able to overcome this urge. Before he could even think about it, he was already sitting on a stool at your bar.

Yuanwu scratched himself intensely behind his right ear. Place where his fedora unpleasantly squished his head began to itch heavily again. This time a habit that he also hated. Though maybe not so much, because it always made you smile. And although it involved a great amount of embarrassment (which Yuanwu had no intention of showing on his stoic face) nothing excited him more than your laugh. He really couldn't understand where this feelings were coming from, but ever since he saw you for the first time, some strange force had been pulling him persistently towards you. Exactly like you to him.

You secretly glanced at him with tenderness. Despite his age, proud aura, bulky body or even beard itself, you couldn't deny that sometimes Yuanwu reminded you of a big puppy. Even if he evoked fear and awe in others, there were some certain adorable slip-ups that he made. Reactions of excitement when you agreed with him or sad pouts when he found out that he wouldn't see you for the weekend. All those little gestures unnoticeable at first glance that didn't let you dismiss this thought.

Yuanwu took his fedora off and placed it carefully on the wooden countertop, not far from his hands, which he intertwined together just a seconds later.

He looked in your direction and swallowed his saliva heavily. Seeing your arms exposed to your elbows and your veins tensed from precarious job, Watching your exposed arms and veins, tensed up from precise job, made something unpleasantly swirl around in his stomach. Your focused gaze and carefully thought-out movements while crushing the leaves didn't help either. Your elegance in performing of such a simple tasks was breathtaking. Your movements were so smooth, as if you had done it thousands of times before. And Yuanwu didn't doubt that this could be the case. You were so dedicated to your work that man didn't allow himself to question your passion for your profession or years you had dedicated to perfecting yourself. Yuanwu greatly admired your devotion.

But wait a minute. Something wasn't right. Man looked suspiciously at the stickers of a boxes that you had just used.

-I will have a Bittberry Tea- he warned right away, and you sighed in resignation.

-Fine - you gently lifted one corner of your lips, more amused than offended at the idea of being caught red-handed.

You definitely weren't trying to secretly sneak the other tea.

Or maybe you did.

But at least you didn't have any bad intentions!

And Yuanwu knew this very well. And after all this attempts in convincing him to try something new, he would have agreed to go along a long time ago. After all, he was already too old for such pestering and this types of games were too tiresome and tedious for him. But if the case involved you... Man just had to admit that he was fond of your attention. And thanks to this tea he was gaining a lot of it. If he gave in, your little play would stop and he would lose the only excuse he had to pique your interest.

Or at least that's what he thought.

-By the way… I was just wondering… -you turned your back to Yuanwu as if looking for a new cup, but in fact slightly embarrassed by your sudden boldness- This Saturday there is a full moon and... -your hand froze in a mid-air- I know a great place from where you can see the moon perfectly. Weather hasn't been good lately, but now it's supposed to be suitable for night walks - word by word you quickened your pace, trying to have this stressful moment behind you as soon as possible- when I was still a teenager I loved to stay there and admire the moon for hours. Maybe- Just maybe-… - you turned rapidly towards Yuanwu- you would like to go there with me?

Man looked at you with wide-open eyes. Almost as if he saw a ghost.

You smiled awkwardly. You just screwed up.

How could you even think about having a chance with someone like Yuanwu?! Let's be honest, after all, someone like him was bound to already have a partner. Even if he didn't brag about it. And if not. You were a simple tea seller, while he ran the most respected gym in all Huanglong. You were out of his league. He wouldn't even look at you.

While you felt a mental breakdown. Yuanwu gently slid down on his stool and with an sudden “excuse me!” ran out of a teahouse.

You watched with resignation as his figure disappeared behind a slightly glazed door.

This clearly wasn't the best moment.

It's a good thing that tea makers weren't required to be overly intelligent. Because, if your father had seen you just now, he would have definitely disinherited you from the rights of your family business.

Did you, in your foolishness, choose to talk to Yuanwu and try to repair your not even developed relationship, after he didn't show up at your place for the past three days? Yes. And was it a good idea? Absolutely not.

But something deep inside you told you that you couldn't let it go just like that. Over the past few months, you had grown used to seeing this gray-haired man who decided to reveal his vulnerability to you. And you couldn't imagine ending things like that. Without any answer. That wasn't even in Yuanwu's style.

Anyway, you hoped that even though he didn't reciprocate your feelings he would at least agree to remain as your friend. After all, you didn't even declare anything.

Anyone could have gone on a night walk in the moonlight… Right?

You didn't find him at the gym. You didn't find him at home. You felt a sense of resignation, but only for a moment. Yuanwu's kind neighbor gave you an idea about his potential whereabouts. Although she didn't know him very well, as he rarely talked about himself, she was a great observer. And a bit prying by the way… She couldn't help but pay attention to his enight escapades. Especially since he always came back from them pretty bruised. As if he had drunk a lot and run into a wrong company. And everyone thought that he was such a well-mannered gentleman! Such lies couldn't spread on neighbor's watch. She wasted a couple of evenings, but it was worth it -or at least, that's how she bragged.

Looking carefully through the window, she finally came to a conclusion. Surprisingly, man wasn't sneaking to a bars but somewhere out of town. She had probably hoped for something else. Because this rumors didn't sound as spicy as they might have. But at least she learned some of the truth that was unknown to others. And if it weren't for her old, sick legs that slowly refused to obey her, she would certainly have known more of it.

Not really bothered by older woman's remarks, you focused on Yuanwu himself and headed to a pointed direction. It was getting dark outside so you wanted to find him as soon as possible.

There was only one path leading in the given way, not really awell-trodden one, but you recognized it immediately. It led to a small forest where you and your father used to collect leaves for brews. You remembered this place well thanks to a small wooden woodcutter's hut. Once... magical and cozy. Now... rather abandoned and falling.

You tilted your head to the side pleasantly surprised. There was a smoke coming from a chimney, which suggested someone's presence.

Yuanwu - you thought with hope and rushed to the door hastily knocking.

Nothing.

You repeated.

Still nothing.

Exactly as if he was hoping for you to think that no one was here and leave.

-Yuanwu, I know you are there. Please open up. Let's talk.

Silence.

You growled in disappointment and banged your fist onto a door.

-Yuanwu, please-

You whimpered.

-I won't leave until I find out why you ran out like a scalded cat. I know that we may never have gotten to know each other more deeply, but I've managed to really like you and I can't imagine us suddenly stopping talking. I can't imagine my days at work without you by my side- I-.... -you spoke pleadingly until you heard a quiet rustling.

Your eyes lit up. You took a step back.

Locks in doors clicked. Rotten planks shifted with weight.

Through a small crack you saw a wasted face of Yuanwu. Dark circles stung your heart.

-Just hurry.

He swung the door open, letting you inside.

With each of your movements, a cloud of dust rose in the air. You coughed, chasing away an unwelcome gray particles.

Finally, you were able to get a better look at him. He was hunched over and drenched in sweat. Exhausted as if he hadn't slept for a week. With his right hand, he held up a small oil lamp, and with his left, he pressed tighter to his chest a thick blanket that wrapped around him like a coat.

Yuanwu carefully put down on a small table the only source of light besides a fireplace and threw himself onto the old mattress located right next to him on icy floor.

You moved toward the windows, wishing to brighten the room with more light thanks to a rising moon.

-No!

You heard a desperate scream and instantly turned towards man.

-Just... please don't.

-O-okay?

You took slow, uncertain steps to curled up Yuanwu. You weren't sure what had just happened, but his condition definitely scared you. The only thing you thought about was helping him, but you didn't really know how.

Seeing that he wasn't reacting badly to your closeness, you crouched down and gently placed your hand on his shoulder. He shuddered. But didn't push you away. So you allowed yourself to gently massage his arm through a pile of old rags.

-Are you all right? Did someone hurt you? Just tell me what I can do to help you-

-Everything is all right. Nothing has happened. I'm just-… ill. And I need some space - he was speaking calmly in a weak voice- And about… That. Do not worry. You know that sometimes I haven't visited you for a while, but I always came back. Now I will also be back. Just not today… And maybe not tomorrow - he laughed bitterly- But the day after tomorrow I will definitely return, for you to once again try to push something in me that is not a Bittberry Tea. Everything will be the same as before. Of course, as long as you still want to keep in touch with me - he reflected.

-Of course I want to! - you protested- After all, that's why I'm here. But that doesn't explain anything-

-Good. -he smiled slightly- But now you should go. There is no time-

-What? I'm not going anywhere-

-No, really. I don't know why, but it's much worse this time-

-What's worse?

-That's-... not important! Please. Go

-No way, I'm not going anywhere until I know what this is all about

Yuanwu shuddered again. This time harder. As if some strange force threw his body. He curled into a ball and gripped his ears to cut off all the loud sounds.

-Yuanwu? -you whispered- Please, say what's-...

-Too late.

A shiver went through your spine. Something in those words and his tone made your blood run cold. But you still didn't move away. On the contrary, you covered him with your body and hugged tightly.

Yuanwu began to shuffle and pull away. But you were stronger, more desperate.

-Let go! I will hurt you - he groaned with difficulty, before his voice got replaced with loud growls and screams of pain.

Agony, as if someone was tearing him apart.

-Not a chance

You gripped him even tighter. Squeezed your eyes shut and waited.

You thought it was just an ordinary convulsionof person in fever. That it would pass soon.

Until it didn't. Until his limbs began to bend in different directions. Until blankets began to tear. Until you felt rough hairs under your fingers.

Something like… fur?

You felt a punch. With a loud thump you fell on the floor. He pushed you away.

More gasps, groans. Cries in indescribable pain.

Finally, a loud howl.

You pulled yourself up, trying to sit up. You rubbed your eyes and looked ahead.

You couldn't believe in what you were seeing.

In front of you, there was a hunched over Yuanwu. Or at least someone who looked like him. He was bigger. More muscular. Naked. But not quite. His torn clothes were replaced by silvery fur, similar to his natural hair color.

You weren't sure what you had just experienced.

Yuanwu looked at you with a frightened and troubled gaze. His eyes, though currently more of a predator than Yuanwu himself, showed a fearful look. Scared of being judged.

-What-… -you quickly corrected yourself- who-…. who are you?

Yuanwu whimpered, letting out the first tears.

You ran out of breath. Why- why was he crying?

-I know that I am a monster. But please, please, can you not leave me? -he threw out pleadingly in a moment of weakness.

Who had hurt him so much to bring such a large, reserved man to this state?

-Please?

His breaking voice tore your heart.

You didn't think twice. You pushed back in a sudden surge of energy and once again threw yourself with a hug on Yuanwu. Your Yuanwu.

You didn't wait for explanations. You didn't need assurances. You didn't even think that Yuanwu could hurt you.

The only thing you wanted to do at that moment, in all this chaos, was to keep him safe.

BONUS:

Liuxian Teahouse was famous for its openness to all four-legged friends. Yuanwu knew this very well, and that's why at first he chose exactly that teahouse.

Whenever he was there he didn't miss a chance to feed his beloved cats. And each time this happened, it greatly amused you. Whenever man approached bowls, cats hissed jumped straight and ran away in a hurry. Leaving Yuanwu with a disappointed look.

However, he never gave up. Poured food to the brim and removed himself into the shadows.

Whenever he left, animals returned. And he, sipping hot tea at the bar, dreamily admired the fluffy creatures who happily ate.

In the past, you were truly fascinated with the idea of cats disliking such a kind man.

Now you knew their secret.

[kaddyssammlung]

I don't let anyone shame me into knowing who is behind the masks.

I did not even care when I first got into this band in January of 2023. YouTube showed me an old video. And I happened to know Vessel's identity by accident right from the start. It was just meant to be. I never had a problem with that. I trust the universe. I was meant to know.

For context.....

On Friday morning I posted a link in here under a keep reading cut. It lead to music. That link did not involve one of the band members real names or faces.

Then I got attacked for it.

I did not get attacked for it on my blog, which I am used to because of the mental health topics and stuff like that, no I got attacked on a different blog. Someone sent an anon to a different blog and made sure that I see it.

Sneaky.....?! Because if that someone had attacked me on my blog I would have used the "block button". It felt like being stabbed in the back.

I find it weird when people use the sentence “our identities are not important” to impose their own morals onto others. Or the new version of this is “did you not hear Caramel?!”. Yes I did. I never did anything wrong or anything that Vessel sings about. I am deeply sorry that he feels that way. I have also read a lot on Twitter...texts from the people that actually stalked the band. It's horrible! It makes me very angry.

But what I posted was under a keep reading cut and also did not invovle someones real name or face. And also their real names are right there when you ask Google. Not to say that this is okay but it's realistic.

In my opinion it was fine to share what I shared, even in the main tag.

I fell down very bad that day. It felt like I was singled out and attacked. As if someone had planned this over a long period of time and that day they just went for it. Somehow someone knew how to push all of my BPD buttons at once.

This has happened before in this fandom on a different platform.

Why attack me?! Idk....Maybe I share too much personal stuff and therefore make it easy for people to attack me? Because I don't hide my flaws.

How do you attack someone with severe BPD?!

Shame and blame them....the rest they will do themselves. That's not an excuse btw....it's what it felt like to me.

I deleted everything that I had uploaded that day.

I regret that now.

In my opinion it's okay to share certain things that don't involve any real names or faces. I have many posts like that...such as Vessel playing the piano for someone else, for example. It's not like I make posts like that daily. But I have many posts like that under the main tag. They never involve real names or faces, they always come with "instructions" and are always under a cut. I don't force people to see things. I always leave it up to them.

That's how I interpret “our identities are not important”. One sentence and everyone sees it in a different way.

In my opinion this has something to do with something totally different....it's “non-egoic”, makes you face yourself because you then let the lyrics sink in on a deeper level, a process that is described by Jung as “indivituation” or also as I like to describe it “Plato's cave”....it's deep. It's actually really profound and interesting. (worth wriring about it again...I guess?! )

Yes, I know ho they are.

So?!

I don't lie about that. I never have. To me it's not a problem. It's what you make out of it.

To whoever wrote that: I'm not leaving and I'm also not silent about being attacked for having done nothing wrong.

And also....I don't care anymore. Whenever I stood up for someone else in this fandom then people leave, block me, unfollow or whatever but then a whole bunch of new people come in that see things the same way I do. I rather have those people stand behind me then kneel down and let someone walk all over me who decides to stab me in the back.

Edit: okay...one more thing! I'm just realizing something. I keep trying to unify a divided fandom. That's not my job. Like I said...I know and I'm fine with it. I don't intend on abusing what I know. But also what I keep fighting against: the fact that this fandom is divded and probably always will be?!. There are the ones who know and the ones who don't know....For me that's not a problem. Trying to unify those two sides does turn it into a problem for me.

When I feel trapped and can't post what I want to post then there is no point of still being in this fandom at all. Because it makes me feel trapped.

I will continue to post "behind the scenes stuff" every now and then. It's so rare that I do that anyway. Imo that's fine. We are talking about like 10 posts out of more then 3000 posts that I have. That's like 0,3%. That is not much.

[notsocooljess]

Double Date

finally wrote the drabble i’ve been trying to write for weeks based on this reddit post discovered by @rainymyx in this post. i had so much fun writing this!

i want to continue to add to this based on the original reddit poster’s updates, so we’ll see!

read this on ao3 here

“What can I say? College football days should always be the best days of a man’s life. Now your best days can be listening to me talk about them.”

Ugh. Katniss huffed out a puff of air as she listened to Cato speak. An hour ago, she had been so excited for this date. They were texting for the past two weeks, and their conversation was easy and funny and, most importantly, normal. Now in person, his vibe was totally different than who he portrayed himself as online. Now, he was a thirty-year-old man who wouldn’t stop talking to her about his glory days from ten years ago and the “boozing, blinkers, and babes” that came with them.

After only receiving their appetizers and a single drink, Katniss knew she couldn’t stick around. The thought of having to hear Cato talk about another frat party he attended before The Force Awakens was released was nearly enough to bring her to tears. Desperate, Katniss did what she always did in trying times like these: text Johanna.

“Katniss! Katniss! I need your help, quick!” Johanna’s voice rang through her phone not even a minute later. Her ability to sound like she was truly in agony was as impressive as always.

“Johanna!? What’s going on?” Katniss responded, hoping her acting was, for the first time in her life, passable.

“It’s the baby! I need you here now!” her childless, non-babysitting, kid-hating friend shouted before quickly hanging up.

Katniss darted her eyes to Cato’s, and his brows were knit tightly as if he were trying to to put together the pieces of the conversation that just transpired.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure if you heard. My friend really needs me. She needs help with her… baby. I hate to cut this short, but,” she didn’t finish her sentence as she slipped on her coat. She shuffled through her bag and retrieved a twenty-dollar bill, smacking it on the table.

“Oh, yeah, it’s cool. You still wanna meet up at my place later, right? I have the best surprise waiting for you,” Cato responded while wagging his eyebrows, seemingly uncaring about her fabricated dire emergency or the quality of their date at all. This only irritated Katniss more. Her friend’s fake baby was in trouble, and all he cared about was getting laid!

“Uh… yeah, no. Definitely not. Let’s just forget about this, okay? Have the night you deserve,” Katniss practically snarled as she fled the restaurant.

Once she was in her car, she peeled out of the parking lot and quickly went around the block, looking for a place to park so she could call Johanna. She found a spot located outside of a small pub and dialed her friend.

“How was I this time? I feel like I’m really perfecting my blood-curdling shrillness. What do you say? Any pointers?” Johanna asked as soon as she answered the phone.

Katniss wanted to laugh, but now that the situation was over, she felt defeated. She actually had high hopes for this date, but she again found herself needing to bail.

At twenty-eight, Katniss finally felt ready to do things for herself. Before this, there was never the time. She was raising her sister Prim and taking care of her mother for more than a decade since her father’s passing. Now, Prim was in her second year of medical school where she received full funding for her work, and her mother has a live-in aide to help her with her daily needs. She finally did not have to spend all of her time focusing on school and work and money and bills, and without Prim nearby, she felt lonely. Her friends had convinced her to start going on dates, but after months of failed attempts, she still had nothing to show for it.

“Is it me, Jo?” she responded, “Do I just attract these weirdos?”

“Oh, shut up, brainless. You've been going on dates for a few months. Maybe if you gave yourself a little more practice when we were younger it’d be easier, but some people take years to find something that sticks. You’re hot. You’re smart. You’re caring. Maybe a little hard to swallow with the scowl, but anyone that gets to know the real you is gonna love you.”

She sighed, “Okay.”

“You wanna come over here? I was just going to watch some Dexter reruns, but there’s plenty of room on this couch for two.”

“Actually, I think I need a drink. I’ll let you know what I’m doing after.”

Katniss’s conversation with Johanna ended shortly after, and she made her way into the pub.

The pub was crowded, a symptom of it being a Friday evening in the winter, and Katniss had to shuffle past a group of freshly legal college students to make it to the bar. She wanted something simple, something just to take the edge off, and was quickly handed her rum and coke.

Eager to people-watch while she nursed her drink, Katniss scanned the crowd for an empty seat. Most of the tables seemed to be taken up by a larger group, but a single chair at a small table in the corner of the room was wonderfully vacant. Katniss closed her tab and swiftly made her way across the room.

As she approached, she stopped in her tracks. Hidden from her initial view was a man sitting on the other side of the table, somewhat hunched over with a book in his hands. Before she could backtrack and look for another open seat, he picked his head up and locked eyes with her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was gonna sit here but didn’t realize you were already here. I’ll just…” her voice trailed off. Katniss had a habit of not finishing her sentences when she was flustered, and after meeting the man’s gaze, she was very flustered. Not only was she not expecting someone to be sitting at the table, but now that he was looking at her, his blue eyes piercing through to her even under the pub’s dim lights, she realized he was around her age and absolutely hot. Her hands began to sweat, and her tongue started to feel like lead.

The man smiled, an endearing smile that quirked more on the left side of his face, highlighting a sole dimple on his cheek. “Don’t worry about it. You can sit here,” He replied, his eyes scanning the room. “Besides, it doesn’t look like there’ll be much room anywhere else.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, and he nodded. “Thank you so much. I promise I won’t even bother you. We don’t even have to talk or anything…” Katniss said as she placed her bag on the table and took her seat.

Katniss started scanning the other patrons of the pub to observe their activities, but her eyes frequently darted back to the man seated across from her. She gathered more bits and pieces of his appearance in the brief moments she allowed herself to study his features. He had blond, curly hair that looked intentionally tousled. His shoulders were very broad, pulling the fabric of his navy henley taut across his chest. He had freckles across the bridge of his nose, and he drummed the table with his left hand while holding the book he was reading in his right.

After a few minutes, he lifted his eyes up from his book and offered her a soft smile. “My name is Peeta, by the way.”

“Katniss,” she said, offering a shy smile of her own.

“You know, I really don’t mind talking if you want to.”

Her grin grew. “Okay, then.” She paused, unsure of where to start, but her curiosity eventually got the better of her when she asked, “Can I ask why you’re reading a book at a crowded bar on a Friday night?”

Peeta chuckled, a laugh that let Katniss know he wasn’t offended. “You waste no time getting to the deep stuff. I actually just moved into my first solo apartment, and as much as I’m happy to have my own space, the silence feels kinda deafening.”

“Ah,” she began, appraising him up and down, “so you find comfort in the chaos.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. I grew up in a house with two older brothers, and the two of them used to practice wrestling no matter where they were. In the dining room, the backyard. One time they threw each other down the stairs,” he chuckled again, “Our mom wasn’t too happy about that one.”

“You’re joking,” Katniss laughed.

“Not even a little bit, I swear. And then I lived in a house with my three friends all the way through grad school. My best friend Finnick used to play eighties pop at all hours of the day. Think, like, Donna Summer or Cyndi Lauper on full blast at three in the morning.”

“And you guys never asked him to stop?” Katniss asked, finding she wanted to know more and more about him.

At this, Peeta hit her with a dead stare, his blue eyes piercing her with a combination of humor and seriousness. “See, that is something only someone who doesn’t know Finnick would ask. If we made any attempts to get him to stop this relatively-harmless-if-not-mildly-annoying behavior, we would only trigger severely worse outcomes for us all.”

“And you said this is your best friend?” Peeta let out a boisterous laugh in reply.

While sitting with Peeta, Katniss found the guard she had put up during her date with Cato had come crashing down.

They spoke about their jobs. Katniss explained how she works as a forest ranger, but she hopes to finish school to become an environmental engineer. Peeta said that he just finished graduate school to become a doctor of architecture.

“I really liked art, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy my parents or pay the bills, so I tried to do the next best thing I could think of.”

“So you became a literal doctor? In a field that’s focused on math and design? Are you a genius?”

“Time Magazine did call me the reincarnation of Albert Einstein.”

“Hm. And to think I placed you more as a Michelangelo.”

They spoke about their families. Katniss spoke about her mom and Prim. She bragged about her sister’s accomplishment in getting a full ride to a great medical school across the country. She felt so comfortable with Peeta, she didn’t even shy away from speaking about her late father, even if it was in the briefest of terms. Peeta nodded his head as she spoke, squeezing her hand across the table when he sensed certain details were particularly hard for her to get out. Peeta, the son of bakers, grew up really close with his older brothers. His oldest brother took over the family business, and while Peeta loves baking, he enjoys it more as a hobby than a career.

This seamlessly led to them speaking about their childhoods. Katniss was mostly shy, harboring two friends, Madge and Gale, through her schooling, despite her being a star on her school’s track and archery teams. University allowed her to come out of her shell and meet friends that didn’t matter her reticent personality, like Johanna. Peeta wrestled, painted, did debate team, and wrote. He had a solid group of friends during school, but he found his lifelong friends in college.

They spoke about the little things. Their favorite colors. Favorite snacks. Movies. Shows. And their answers were so similar across all categories, they had a near total eclipse on a venn diagram of each topic. Their responses were so alike that, at one point, Katniss plastered her face with her signature scowl Peeta had not yet been acquainted with, asking him if he was being totally honest with his responses.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, “Look, that scowl is too intimidating for me to not come clean. So the truth is, I’ve been being honest this entire time.”

Before Katniss realized, nearly two hours had gone since she first sat down with Peeta. They fell into a comfortable silence, and she studied his features more in the muted light. She tried to picture what he looked like out of this setting. Hunching over a sketchbook. Cooking in his kitchen. Laughing with his friends. Cheering on his nephews at their little league games.

She studied the way the dim light caught onto the golden strands of his eyelashes, becoming mesmerized by the way they fluttered against his cheek when he blinked. She didn’t even realize she was staring until he spoke again, causing her to jump slightly.

“So what about you?” He asked, a small grin on his lips.

“What about me?”

“Well, before you asked what I’m doing at a bar alone on a Friday night. But what are you doing alone here on a Friday night so that I, a stranger, was able to take up so much of your time?”

Katniss contemplates what she should say, unsure if she should reveal her failed date with Cato. But as Peeta looked at her with sincerity in his eyes, she has the hunch that she could really trust him.

“If I’m honest, I came here because I had left a really, really bad first date,” she responded sheepishly.

Peeta cocked his left eyebrow expectantly. “How bad?”

“Well… it was so bad I made my best friend call me and say she was having an emergency with her fake baby to give me a reason to bail,” Katniss blurted out, her tone hitching at the end to make her statement sound more like a question. Like she was questioning if she really did that herself.

Both of Peeta’s eyebrows were raised, his eyes glinting with amusement, lips curling in to stop him from laughing. “You’re kidding me,” he managed to croak out.

“In my defense, he only spoke about his college football experiences, and after I started leaving to go help my friend with her fake baby, he still asked if we were having sex later!”

At this, Peeta burst out laughing, and after Katniss realized exactly what she said, she joined him. As Katniss clutched her stomach, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, she almost missed what Peeta said next.

“That’s why I’ve kind of given up on dating.”

“Given up?” Katniss asked, her voice airy from her recent laughter and something silly like concern that she might have been wrong about the connection she felt with him all night.

“In grad school, every date I went on just didn’t have any spark. They were just mediocre. Then, I got so busy with trying to finish my degree, I just gave up on the whole thing.” For the first time that night, Peeta responded without meeting her gaze.

She’s not sure what made her say it. Maybe it was the second rum and coke she had gotten while talking with Peeta. Maybe it was that she felt like she had nothing left to lose after her first failed date of the night. Or, maybe it was because she knew she’d majorly regret if she didn’t try to continue with the something that she felt burning between her and Peeta, but she had to say it.

“I find that hard to believe considering this is probably the closest thing I’ve had to a good date in what feels like forever.”

At this, Peeta drew his head back in what appeared to be shock. His eyes met her again, an indecipherable expression plastering his features as he searched hers. Katniss shifted in her chair, somewhat uncomfortable with his unreadable scrutiny.

Finally, Peeta’s features relaxed. and he looked Katniss right in the eye with a neutral, if not somewhat strained, expression. “Tell you what,” he began, “I have to go to the bathroom, but when I come back, I’ll ask you out for real.”

Katniss shot him a curious expression, but as Peeta began to move, it clicked. He did not stand from his seat – he wheeled back from the table, towards the back of the bar with the bathrooms. His left pant leg tied off just below the knee. Katniss understood: he wanted her to see everything about him before she agreed to go on a date with him. He was giving her an out.

At this, Katniss’s gut twisted, both with regret and butterflies. She felt somewhat bad for him, wondering if this was a move he made from being rejected for his physical condition before. Wondering how anyone could do that to anyone, let alone a guy like Peeta. But overpowering this feeling were the butterflies. He liked her. He wanted her to see all of him. He was laying his insecurities bare for her. Most importantly, he already trusted her. In mind, body, and spirit, he couldn’t be any more beautiful.

A minute later, Peeta emerged from the bathroom, a goofy grin plastered across his face to perfectly match hers.

As soon as he reached the table, the words came tumbling out of Katniss’s mouth before she could stop them.

“So, I’m free all weekend. What do you have in mind?”

[starglitterz]

♡ AMERICANO.

❝ baby, take a chance on me! give me one sign and you will see. // crushing on the local barista ❞

✧ feat : xiao x gn!reader

✧ a/n : FIRST POST OF THE YEAR!! yk it had to be my beloved xiao <3 here's to a fourth year with my baby hehe

✧ note : this is a very late entry to ying's cafe week for the prompt americano !

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

“uh, hi. could i please get a…” you flash what you’re certain is the most awkward grin of your life at the poor barista, who’s currently running the cashier as well. you swear you’re never the type to hold up a queue, pondering for ages over what to drink to get – in fact, you always get the exact same drink. it’s just that the way the barista’s pretty amber eyes almost seem to gleam in the late afternoon sun has you stumbling over your words, barely able to form coherent sentences; it’s so embarrassing you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, you're lucky there's no one else in the line behind you.

“your usual?” he raises an eyebrow, a few strands of jade hair tumbling out of his loose bun to frame his face, and holy archons this man is such a masterpiece he belongs in a museum. you gape at him for a few seconds, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish before you realise how stupid you must look and you scramble for a reply, “how do you know?!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a smile, “you order the same drink every time.” you’re fumbling for a retort when he continues, “and you come here three times a day.” now you’re ninety-nine percent certain your face is on fire.

“that’s true…” you mutter sheepishly before making a valiant attempt to defend yourself, “but maybe i just really like coffee!” “i think you drink too much coffee,” he chuckles softly as he writes your name on the cup. you’re freaking out over the fact that what has to be the world’s cutest barista is actually aware of your existence, he recognises you instead of seeing you as just another customer from the endless throngs of students that flock to the campus coffee shop daily. then you gasp, “wait. how do you know my name?!” he lifts an eyebrow once more, “i just told you that you order coffee here three times a day. you say your name every time.” great. now he definitely thinks you’re an idiot. it’s not your fault that all your braincells seem to fly out of your head every time you see him!

“oh.” you laugh weakly as you pull your wallet out of your bag, “that makes sense.” mentally, you’re slamming your head against the wall, cursing yourself for being so head-over-heels that you can’t even carry a normal conversation with the barista. as he types your total, he suddenly murmurs so softly that you have to struggle to catch it, “it’s a pretty name, though.” “o-oh, you think so?” the compliment makes your brain short-circuit, but thankfully you manage a proper response, “i like your name too… xiao.” saying his name out loud almost makes you spontaneously burst into flames, which honestly would be pretty inconvenient for the rest of the customers in the coffee shop. not to mention you doubt it would endear you to xiao if you exploded in the middle of his workplace.

you aren't sure if it's just your imagination, but you think that xiao's ears look a little red as he taps on the screen in front of him. then he clears his throat, “you know what, today's drink is on the house.” “what?! really?!” your eyes light up and xiao meets your gaze for a split second before looking away, the faintest pink tinge dusting his cheeks as he starts making your drink, “yeah.” your heart's beating at a million miles per hour from just this small interaction, but you swallow your nerves and give yourself a pep talk as you wait to receive your drink. you never know unless you try, right?

and as xiao turns to give your drink, you blurt, “icouldtakeyououtonadate!” he blinks slowly, cat-like, and furrows his brow in confusion, “sorry, what did you say?” doing your best not to melt into a puddle on the ground, you mumble, “to make up for the free coffee, i could take you out to lunch or something.” there’s a pause, and you quickly continue, “only if you want to, of course!” you're cursing yourself for even daring to be so bold, there's no way he'd want to go out with a caffeine addict like you- “i'd like that.” his reply is so unexpected you look at him incredulously, “what?” “i said, i’d like to go for lunch with you,” now xiao's face is bright red, and he's gripping your coffee cup so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

at this point, you think that you could jump over the moon. “oh! that's great!” you beam, and xiao thinks that your smile is like the sun, “maybe sunday?” “sure,” he smiles, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen, “it's a date.” he turns away after saying that to hide his blush, and with the biggest, cheesiest grin on your face you reply, “yeah, it's a date.”

(and later when you finally drink your coffee, you realise xiao has scribbled his number on the side of the cup. maybe all this time you were crushing on the local barista, he was crushing on you too.)

wahhh i missed writing 🥹 i tried something new with this one, i usually prefer writing confident and flirty readers so i hope this is okay for a first time hehehe. hope you enjoyed! <3

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[heavenlycloud]

arachnophobia~ spiderman au  kim minji x fem! reader

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

authors note: i wrote this for @tzuyuscloud months ago for their birthday and never got around to posting it. i don't plan on writing for nwjns in the future tho, this was just a special request for a friend!

p.s. im sick rn and running on soda, pancakes, and cough syrup so i hope this makes sense cuz im a lil hopped up on stuff rn

tw// swearing, blood, violence

the clock tower across campus struck loudly across campus, indicating the top of the hour. you rolled your eyes at the sound and wished they’d only use it during daylight hours instead of when everyone was trying to sleep. diverting your attention back to your laptop, you added a few more sentences to the Literature paper you were writing before closing the top. it was deep into the night so you quickly washed up and changed into pajamas before heading off to bed since you had a morning class. an hour must have passed when you jumped upon hearing a loud thud followed by a crash of items clattering to the floor in the room nearest yours. quickly, you sprang up and tried to open your roommate’s door which was locked from the other side. for a moment it was silent which only made you frantically jiggle the doorknob harder in an attempt to help the girl on the other side. loudly, you called out, “minji?! are you good bro?” from the other side of the door you could hear her cussing rapidly in english and korean in a hushed whisper. after a moment she called out, voice slightly strained, “yeah uh i’m fine. i just knocked over some stuff on my nightstand. i’m fine though you can leave.” you furrowed your brows in confusion before awkwardly answering, “uh.. um okay yeah. goodnight, i’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.”  right when you settled into bed you thought aloud to yourself, “what nightstand? we don’t even have those in our rooms?” however, you didn’t let yourself think too much of it and shrugged off the thought so you could go back to sleep. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

the next morning you woke up and got dressed for class as you normally did but this morning minji wasn’t getting ready with you. instead of thinking too much of it, you told yourself she was probably sleeping in a few minutes longer. nine o’ clock rolled around and minji was still nowhere to be found so you went to her door and banged on it, LOUDLY. when there was still no answer you called out, “minji- bro come on we have our literature exam today! lets go!” for nearly two minutes you were calling out to her before you had to leave. minji wasn’t one to skip class so you just stuck with thinking maybe she got an earlier start and was already in class. the walk to the lecture hall was quieter than normal without minji by your side. your roommate’s daily spiel of gossip that she’d overheard from classmates was dearly missed at this early hour. the second you walked into your lecture hall, one of your other classmates, haewon, waved you over. she groaned and put down the book she was skimming in her hand, “god i can’t wait for this lesson to be over.” she pushed the text away from her in disgust, and you laughed, “well we have the exam today, and the paper due next class so it’ll be over soon!” she looked past you a bit then asked, “wait where’s minji?” you craned your neck and squinted to try and see if she was in the large lecture hall but she still hadn’t shown. with a shrug you responded, “i don’t know. i thought she was already here but i guess not.” haewon pulled out her phone and frowned, “she hasn’t texted me either…” before the two of you could do anything else, your professor entered the classroom with a thick packet of exams. your stomach wound itself into knots at the realization that minji would be missing this exam. she had already missed class six times this semester, so this absence would be the one to make a failing grade for the semester. when your professor got to your row with the exams in hand, she looked at the empty seat next to you with a face of disapproval. you awkwardly gave a weak smile and passed the packets down your row before starting on your own test. 

half an hour passed leaving 45 minutes left in the class before you all had to leave. from the looks of your other classmates, this exam was a tough one. beside you, haewon was sound asleep with her exam under her arms. you looked up at the door when you heard rushed footsteps and labored breathing, followed by the door closing. minji rushed up to her seat and sat down, not sparing a second to catch her breath before starting her exam. her appearance was slightly more dishevled than she’d normally deem acceptable but you remained silent. for the rest of the exam period you worked on the test trying to match paces with haewon and minji so that the two of you could leave together at the end. despite arriving thirty minutes late for class, minji managed to complete her exam in fifteen minutes, before you and haewon. not even a minute after the three of you exited the classroom you demanded, “bro, where the hell were you this morning?” haewon agreed and added on, “yeah and why are you dressed like adam sandler?” the two of you onced over the oversized t shirt and baggy basketball shorts that she sported with a pair of sneakers you’d never seen before. you wrinkled your nose and added, “and why do you smell like a burnt gas station?” 

minji shrugged off your questions as nonchalantly as she could, “there was an emergency at HQ and they called me in to help-” you cut her off, “wouldn’t they just call someone else? you don’t even work there?” minji’s cheeks flushed at the realization that you had a point and she quickly explained, “it was one of those ‘all hands on deck’ things. i was available to help so i did. anyways, i was tired so i stayed with a friend who lived nearby, and i had to borrow some clothes. and i was fixing hanni’s car again, it stopped on the side of the road because she forgot to fill it with gas, it’s not a big deal.” you pretended to be unbothered by the remark but something about the slight limp she had and bruises on her legs made your stomach wind into knots. when you looked back up at her face she caught your eyes lingering on her shins with a slightly uneasy stare. nervously she laughed, “lets go to JavaBean before our next class, my treat.” haewon was already linking arms with you and tugging you along, happily murmuring, “i love that she has that new internship with Samsung. i don’t have to pay for stuff anymore because she keeps treating us.” 

haewon turned her phone around and showed you and minji the screen, “did you all see this? that spiderperson stopped a bunch of people from robbing a bank downtown last night! they released the footage this morning.” you watched as the masked assailents attempted to take on the local hero all at once. from the corner of your eye you could see minji shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she watched the video. you looked at her and asked, “isn’t this place right by the samsung building you were at last night? and the footage says it happened around the time you were out. did you see anything?” minji’s eyes widened and she looked down at her iced latte, “no i was inside the building working. we heard the sirens but i didn’t see anything besides police cars up from the windows on my floor.” haewon pouted and said, “damn i wish you’d seen something. i wanna know who this hero is- they’re kinda hot.” you and minji choked on your iced coffees and you laughed, “they wear a mask, you don’t even know if they’re actually hot.” haewon explained, “i mean the act of kicking ass in a spandex suit is hot. but i wouldn’t be surprised if they were good looking too. i’ve seen movies.” minji laughed and shook her head before you turned your attention back to the video. you noticed the way the hero crumpled to the ground when one of the robbers kicked their left knee, coincidentally the same one minji had been babying all day. 

at the end of the school day you found minji in the main room of your shared apartment with her laptop over her lap, and chemistry papers scattered around the coffee table. the second she noticed your presence she slammed her laptop closed and scrambled to gather her papers and tuck them away. you furrowed your brows and awkwardly laughed, “why are you acting like a 12 year old getting caught on a 18+ website?” minji’s face was flushed red with panic and she tried to play it off, “just some uh…classified work stuff that’s all?” you pointed to her laptop, “and you’re doing highly classified work on a school laptop connected to public wifi?” minji rolled her eyes and shoved her computer into her backpack without a response, clearly having gotten caught in her lie. your gaze shifted to her legs where she now wore a pair of sweatpants, your sweatpants to be specific. her long sleeved t shirt rode up on one of her arms and your stomach formed a pit when you noticed small scratches and bruises along her skin. 

“what happened?” you asked, motioning to her arms with a curious but stern glance. minji quickly tugged her sleeve down and murmured, “nothing, don’t worry about it.” for a moment you almost let it go but decided otherwise knowing whatever was happening would continue if you didn’t try to help. you insisted, “no. you need to tell me what the hell is going on.” minji gave you a confused look and you persisted, “this whole thing where you’re disappearing late at night and not coming home? you keep blowing me and haewon off, not to mention that girl hanni came here the other night in tears thinking something happened to you because you hadn’t answered her calls in a week. why the hell do you keep coming back beat up and bruised?!” minji felt her face heat up and she immediately responded much more defensively than before, “i said don’t worry about it.” she got up and pushed past you before slamming her door, shaking the entire apartment with the force. 

for hours you tried to rationalize why minji was suddenly keeping so many secrets from you. what the hell was so secretive about a technology company internship, and why was it that she was only working on projects at night? the more you thought about the whole thing the more stuff started to make less sense. two weeks passed and you noticed minji coming in and out of your dorm at late hours, or just not coming home at all even more. although it wasn’t unusual for her to disappear during the night but you brushed it off knowing that she had that high demand, super prestigious Samsung internship. your suspicions only started to rise further when her bruises and bumps were too noticeable to hide. minji was more closed off towards you and all of your friends and you just missed your roommate, the dork with a 9:30 bedtime, a hermit crab collection, and a love for harry potter. so naturally you decided that you were going to figure out where she was constantly disappearing to since she wouldn’t ever give you a direct answer. 

minji left your apartment around 9:00 pm with the excuse of going out to meet a friend for the night, and potentially spending the night. you opened the find my iphone app on your home screen and opened it to see where minji really was. sure enough she was not at a friends house and actually in some old warehouse downtown. you followed the gps to the location and mumbled quietly to haewon who was on facetime, “what would she even be doing over there?” haewon shrugged and answered, “maybe she knows someone in there, you know that place is full of squatters.” you rolled your eyes and said, “she only talks to four people including us and her uncle. i’m not close with that hanni girl she’s friends with but i don’t think she squats in an old metal factory. but i’m here so i’m gonna hang up.” haewon told you firmly, “okay but if anything happens you need to leave okay?” you nodded and hung up before tucking your phone into your pocket. 

there was nearly no light inside of the old factory, just a few yellowed bulbs illuminating a few feet ahead of you. broken windows offered rays of moonlight to pool where the bulbs couldn’t, making it only a bit brighter. you pulled your black hood over your head and tucked yourself into a dark corner of the factory just to see if minji was actually there. a group of burly men were huddled together around the center of the floor, taunting a smaller figure between all of them. when one of them moved you saw the familiar carnelian red and navy blue spider suit peeked from the middle. you gasped and felt your heart sink as the men tormented the hero who was already in bad shape. instead of staying you looked at your phone to see that minji’s location was now somewhere else in the city. despite wanting to stay and possibly help the young hero, you knew that it was safer for you to sneak out the way you came in. quickly, you hustled down a flight of stairs and slipped out one of the broken walls into a dark alleyway that would lead to a main street after a few blocks. as you walked down the street you turned back when you heard a blood curdling scream, it sounded all too familiar but you turned back and listened to haewon’s advice, hoping to the heavens above the person screaming wasn’t your best friend. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

walking alone at night in this sketchy part of town wasn’t ideal but public transit wasn’t running at this hour and you weren’t paying for an uber because it wasn’t cheap. you could feel a pair of eyes on you despite nobody being around so you quickend your steps. just as you were about to break into a run a man jumped out from the darkness and blocked your path. there was a sinister smile on his face as he asked, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing out alone at this hour?” you swallowed your fear and stood your ground best you could, “going home. now, excuse me.” you tried to slip by him and the wall just for him to pin your body against it, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. 

the man’s face was inches from yours, his breath smelled of cigarettes and alcohol as it ghosted your lips when he smiled, “what’re you doin sweetpea?” you looked him dead in the eye and kept a stoic face before jamming your knee upwards, hitting him straight in the groin. he stumbled back and staggered onto the ground and you looked over him before kicking him in the same spot, adding one hard stomp after just for good measure. you then took off running, hearing him suddenly yelp you turned around to see the local hero in the spider suit shooting webs at him, sticking him to the alley wall. your eyes met the hero and you heard them yell, “run Y/N!” you didn’t even waste another second before you ran all the way back to your apartment, locking the doors behind you and barracading the door. it was after you took a shower and changed into your pajamas that you realized the masked hero said your name, and suddenly it all clicked. to test your theory, you needed solid, undeniable proof that your roommate was not who she said she was. 

you peeked into minji’s room through the cracked open door she had and you smiled seeing her window was in fact open. that’s definitely how she was getting in and out of your apartment every night without opening the front door. without wasting a second you pulled the window closed and locked it as tight as you could with a satisfied grin on your face. all you had to do now was wait for minji to get back home. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

hours passed and after one long and surprisingly painful mission, minji was finally rushing back to your shared apartment. she sprinted across the grassy quad as quickly as she could, praying that nobody was going to be outside at this time of night. she frantically attempted to use her web shooters to swing up into the trees, her usual and most secretive way of getting around. however, after the fights she had last night and tonight, she knew it was a long shot. the teenage superhero smiled when she heard a familiar click, but it fell when her web shooters released a thin, miniscule amount of webs that wasn’t even the size of her arm. she cursed under her breath knowing she’d had to fix that before going to sleep, but all she wanted now was to get back into her room. finally she got to her dorm and looked up at her window which sat on the fourth floor of the dorm building you both were assigned to. she began climbing up, wincing as pain seared through her entire body but specifically on her abdomen where a nasty gash was still leaking blood. 

a feeling of dread washed over her when she realized her window was both closed and locked which she never did. she will admit she’d been out of it recently, forgetting to do some school assignments, showing up to club meetings, and she’d even screwed up on tonight’s mission resulting in the bloody wound on her side. the feeling of dread was replaced with panic when she heard a couple of students walking a short distance away. there were only a few seconds to spare before she was spotted so she scanned the floor to see if any windows were open. she saw yours, wide open just asking for her to enter. minji held her breath, hoping and praying that you would be asleep tonight. she quickly crawled through your window and up your walls onto the ceiling in an attempt to exit through your door to her room. the superhero made it to the middle of your ceiling when your light flicked on and you gasped, “ahh! what the fuck?! what the fuck? what the FUCK?!” you yanked the broom from your closet and started smacking the masked individual on your ceiling with it. just like a real spider, minji quickly dashed from one side of your ceiling to another, almost making it out of your room. that was until the broom jammed right into her abdomen, making her scream in pain and fall onto your floor with a loud thud. 

you immediately reached forward and snatched the mask off her head, ready to swing the broom on the stranger again and call the police. a small gasp left your lips when you realized it wasn’t a stranger but rather your own roommate of a year. she had her eyes closed in pain while tears pricked the side of her eyes, getting ready to roll down her cheeks. blood ran from her nose, purple and blue splotches peppered her brow bone, jaw, and cheek, while a cut over her lip had a thick patch of partially dried blood. you looked at her carnelian red suit that was darkening over her stomach area. her hand pressed over it and you urgently moved, “oh my god- minji!” she weakly smiled through a wince of pain, “hey, y/n.” you looked down at her and brought your hands to your head, “holy shit i was right- oh god- ok um…shit you’re bleeding on my rug.” you bent down to help her up, taking most of her body weight onto yourself while she hobbled with you to the bathroom. minji winced once more and you onced her over, “you need to take that off so i can clean your stomach.” immediately minji refused, “no i’m fine it’s just a little cut. you can go to sleep y/n, it’s fine. this is nothing new.” your heart clenched at hearing her last words but you were adamant, “no i’m helping you. minji, you can’t even stand up straight. so take it off so i can help you.” she sighed in defeat knowing that there was no point in trying to refuse because you wouldn’t let up, and honestly she did need help this time. minji pressed a button on her suit causing it to quickly retract up her arms and legs, leaving her in what was now a form fitting tank top and biker shorts version of her suit. 

minji placed her hand on her side, applying pressure to the cut before you gently lifted her onto the countertop of the bathroom. she shifted uncomfortably for a minute while you grabbed a handful of bandaging pads, gauze, and medical bandage tape. when you came back you carefully lifted her top to expose the wound. a small whine of pain left minji’s lips as you peeled the material from her bloodied skin. once that part was done you rinsed it with water, minji gripping onto your shoulder so she didn’t interfere with your help. while you cleaned it, you stated, “if it was any deeper i would’ve had to take you to the ER.” she remained silent at the remark, instead focusing on the way your hands tenderly took care of her wounded body. the teenager hissed as you began to dress the wound with layers of gauze and bandaging tape, throwing her head back to prevent tears from falling. afterwards, you placed small bandaids over the small cuts on her brow bone, temple, and jaw. minji could feel your eyes skimming her arms and legs, looking at the varying scars decorated with new bruises that she’d gotten in the past year. however, she was surprised when you didn’t mention a single word about any of it. instead, you finished up and said, “just avoid getting those wet when you shower, drink water and eat, and let your body rest. alright?” the superhero nodded and you said, “okay, i’m done. good night, i’ll see you in the morning.” minji mumbled a shy, “thank you” under her breath to which you smiled and assured her, “it’s no big deal.” 

you turned around to leave and minji grabbed your hand, “i’m spiderman or girl or woman or whatever. but it’s me.” slowly you turned to face and looked into her eyes, “minji, i know.” she sighed and pulled you closer to her as she still sat on the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around your torso to keep you close, “no- i know that i just don’t want there to be any more secrets. i can’t keep lying to you.” she pulled your arms to rest on her shoulders as she held your waist and you prompted, “so what else should i know about my spiderwoman?” butterflies erupted in minji’s stomach and she cracked a smile through her split lip, wincing when it hurt slightly. she ran her knuckles along your side and she started, “i can shoot webs from my suit, i can crawl on walls, i’m pretty fast and i’m stronger than regular people, i heal faster so all of this will be fine tomorrow mostly, i have enhanced balance and reflexes, and i get this tingly feeling when i feel like there’s impending danger.” you looked at her asking for more and she continued, “i do really work for samsung though just not in the engineering program like you and haewon think. it’s this classified project so as much as i want to tell you more, i can’t because i don’t know much either right now."

you asked, "what about the day you came in late for the exam? why'd you smell like gas and ash, hanni has a tesla and that doesn't take gas. and what happened to you that day you were there in the alley? i saw you in the factory too." minji sighed and admitted, "i saved a man from a burning car on the side of the highway. they stabbed me in the factory which is why i screamed, and i had a feeling something was going wrong in the alley after i escaped the factory. but that’s all of my secrets i promise. no more secrets, okay?” 

brushed a stuck hair from minji’s forehead and nodded, “no more secrets, huh?” she hummed in agreement and you told her quietly, “i have one.” minji’s eyes found yours and you cupped her face with your hand, “i really like you, more than a friend.” minji broke out into a smile and responded, “i really like you too.” you asked almost as if you didn’t believe her, “yeah?” she nodded eagerly, “yeah.” minji leaned foreward and pressed her head against yours, you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead then you pulled away and looked at her, both of you sharing a similar glance, “don’t tell haewon.” the two of you bursted into laughter and minji leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

end.

[remindingpersephone]

Undercurrents

I just realized I haven't posted anything substantially my own (other than birthday wishes for the wonderful @ohhelloholly) in a while. Lots of reblogs or screenshots of other people's wisdom. And I love that and put it here because I want to remember the inspiration and the beauty. I mean, come one, there is nothing quite like Winged Victory. I stand by everything I post, even the complaints about weird ads.

But this tumblr is not what it used to be. I used to write almost daily. Nothing that was going to win a Pulitzer, and was mostly just for me. It was me talking to you all, making connections, giving and feeling love.

I know a lot of the lack of posts has to do with time. I just don' t have the time I did 14 years ago. But if I'm being honest, I spend too much time scrolling. Some days I'm better at stopping before I go on autopilot. Some days I ignore the ads on Instagram for things I don't need. Some days, I don't. A package of new makeup I've never tried is arriving in a few days. Nobody's perfect. But am I that busy I can't write a few sentences? I do try to visit my friends blogs and heart bomb them as much as possible.

I think it's less about time and more about the fact that I don't know what to say. There's no way I'm talking politics, that shit is exhausting. I decided long ago not to be the asshole-whisperer, trying to convince some dick why he's wrong. I used to post a lot about music, but I listen to music from the 80s and 90s, so there's nothing current or relevant there. Movies and TV shows: there have been a couple good movie trailers recently, but not much else.

Then I realized: as much as it's me, it's also February. My Mom's birthday was February 9th, the first one without her. And she passed away February 28th last year. The one year mark of that day is coming soon and it's a day I am currently dreading. It's the undercurrents of loss that are having an effect right now.

I'm not good at just sitting with things. I am a fixer. I am a person in motion, mentally if not always physically. Go, do, see, reflect, analyze, write, move on. Grief demands stillness and patience, two things I am really not good at.

Trying to recapture something: a habit, a routine, a feeling from 14 years ago is a fools errand. Life changes, we change. Can we hold on to the things that really mean something to us? Sure. But we cannot be who we once were. We have to move on, even without the people who once meant the most to us.

I know I'm conflating my tumblr blog's ancient past with the more recent death of my mother. They are not the same things by a long shot. But there is a common theme here. Things change and we have to change with them. To stay stuck, stagnant, caught between what we've lost and where we're meant to go, is no way to live.

This post did not end up where I started, but that's writing for you. It does it's own thing and I'm just the conduit.

Anyway, I hope you are all doing well - as well as we all can these days - and that you keep moving on in your own way, at your own pace. Keeping looking forward, because there is no going back.

[dreamdolldiary]

you either make moves or burn.

this one is for the people who are prisoners of their own mind and depending on who this post reaches, this one is gonna hurt but you need to hear it.

drag yourself out by the hair if you need to.

you want something? go get it.

before you think this is a "rise and grind 24/7" culture type of post, hear me out first.

stop pitying yourself and stop wanting pity from others. stop waiting and wishing and start creating. stop holding yourself back with fear. i have MDD and countless of other disorders and it has all made me weak. physically and mentally. hard circumstances at home, you get it, no sob story. i had the medications, i had the counseling. 2 times in my life since high school, i had to take off and even quit my jobs because i couldn't deal with it anymore. i just didn't want to be here. at all.

i would always try to find the answer "i need to find my purpose in life. i'm scared that i won't be able to work because of my illness. what if i can't show up to class or work because i'm just not in the mood? i can't perform my best."

you want to "find" your purpose? create it. don't wait for it to just show up. you're scared to work, go to school because of tough circumstances? do it WITH your tough circumstances. do it scared. do it sad. you can't just wait until everything else in life is all dandy for you to start making moves. that is NOT how it works for the people who are prospering.

can you give it ONE more? the only correct answer is yes for those who want to actually be the person of their dreams. be SO sick of wishing you were better, be SICKKK of crying over spilled milk - things that you CANNOT change and just CHANGE YOURSELF. if you aren't doing anything at all to be your dream person, you are just chasing. desiring. we don't do that here. we take inspired action.

you are here anyway. might as well create a meaningful life while you're at it. okay?

i used to let myself pass on by with "yeah, well it's a disability. it's not my fault." and there's nothing wrong with what i said but it's about what is MISSING from this sentence.

"it's not my fault. i hate wishing i had a better life but since i'm still here anyway, what are some things i can do to be better? even if it's in the slightest way?"

"no pain, no gain"

"pain of discipline or pain of regret"

so used to seeing those quotes as a bad thing. yuck. but with a new perspective, you don't have to anymore.

nike's slogan is so simple but so effective. "just do it." but what did i do? it was summer. i drove myself to a nice neighborhood in a nearby city, put my headphones in and walked. i just walked. i kept walking. 20k steps that day. it made me feel accomplished. i went back, i enjoyed it. i kept going back and some days i dreaded it but i looked up at the trees, the people who lived there who also indulged in daily walks all said hi. the dogs walking. the sun beaming. the people in the car who let me cross the street. the clear roads i get to walk on. my shoes i had the privilege to wear. i noticed something new to appreciate and be aware of everyday.

i did that mostly every single day. i walked when i was okay, i walked when i was in a good mood, i walked while bawling my eyes out. (and while i was driving there too, so bad that i had to pull over). but i kept doing it. and it was so good for me. my body, my mind, everything.

one habit led to another, i took my dog with me, i started to eat healthy, i started a fitness journey. i gained a spark to study code, i picked up multiple habits by doing a full reset of my life and even though i've had my down moments, i'm here and better.

it's a snowball effect. do something simple. it doesn't have to be physical but first, maybe a mental shift. start to realize that if you're here, on earth, reading this post, that's a privilege you have and something you could/should cherish. you literally have an abundance of information and opportunities at your literal fingertips. one decision can change your life completely but it all starts with you and the first step to take. oh its hard? yeah well it's supposed to be if you're in a tough place in life.

you are here. you are living. you are ALIVE.

ALIVE.

do something good for you. it's supposed to be challenging. not everything will be hard in life, the same way, not everything will be easy peasy. you deserve good and it is VERY possible to live a life of smooth sails but lead yourself out of the storm you find yourself in or the waves are just going to take the wheel for as long as you let it.

[matrixsss]

Hiiii, how have you been doing? I hope you're well <3

I come bearing questions :

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

OMIGOD HIII IM OKAAY

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Honestly I thrive on writing one shots, I want to try and write a multi-chap fic and actually finish it because usually I am too impatient and just post one chap or maybe more and then I forget/ loose motivation to continue it, but I am slowly working on my OC Amaras' story which I plan on being a multi-chap fic. (check the amazing art @geniemillies did of her here).

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

I do not choose it, the story does when I start writing it. I usually have a plot in mind and then just let the story guide the pov I end up writing it in.

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

A weapon or a monster? She questions, not that it matters at this point. Who she was before, has been long forgotten. Nothing can and will come save her from this hell-hole. Her tired eyes found the faint light, wishing and willing it to glow brighter, yet the light only dimmed more or maybe she imagines it did. If the light dies, so does her hope of… of what exactly? She forgets.  - from my Amara bg fic, Its an old wip and I haven't written anything more from this but I will, hopefully

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

OKAY I GOTS THEM;

Cosmogeny by @highlordofkrypton

I hope you don't mind by @praetorqueenreyna

Highlanders by you @sonics-atelier

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

Hmmm I usually draw from personal experiences and from what I have seen in movies and tv shows to write emotional scenes. And I always feel what the characters feel, it's why I like writing, it is so much easier to pour my emotions out that way.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

tbh too many to count and most of them I have already forgotten lmao. But one of the ones that lives rent free in my head at all times is the one for my OC Amara.

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

I am very weird when it comes to writing, I have to have a title before I can even START to write said fic, so I always title my fics before the writing. How I come up with hem, well sometimes it's just feelings and other times it has something do to with the story itself I guess.

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

To be completely honest? I am actually very happy with the responses I got on my fics, although I wish people commented more, but other than that I am actually very happy with everything. At the end of the day, I am writing these stories for myself and the friends I made along the way here.

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

My most favorite part of writing is just getting the pesky idea out of my head and onto paper/ typed out so it ceases to haunt me and also it is a good outlet for all the pent up emotions I keep inside. Oh and I also love the daily hauntings of my ideas haunting me, but it is a good thing to fall asleep to and daydream about when shit gets a tad bit too real.

My least favorite part is just the moods i get into where no words make sense together and it just is all mush and just eugh what is this word garbage rn. Oh and the fact that I procrastinate writing all the damned time ha-ha-ha (I am not actually laughing, I am in tears)

from the get to know your fic writer ask game!

[aunt-pol]

Hello! This post will probably seem out of place on my blog but I am offering free proofreading and copy editing services in order to build a portfolio! Freelancing is a hard thing to get started in, especially when most of one's recent job experience has been in the service industry, but I love editing for folks and I'm really trying to make this the year I get it up and running, even if only as a side hustle. If you have any projects you'd like to have copy edited or proofread, please keep reading to see if we can help each other!

My qualifications:

Studied English at the University of Dallas

Worked as a copy editor at the student newspaper

Did a summer internship in the corporate communications dept for a global company which involved, among other things, independently editing the daily company newsblast

Am a hobbyist writer on my own time - I relate from both sides of the red pen!

Simply editing things for family, friends, and online mutuals! Which has gotten me testimonials such as these:

"Katie provided an attentive and thorough reading of my resume, and suggested several minute but important corrections which helped to clarify my writing! She responded quickly to my request, edited the document and returned it to me within a short timeline, and was clear and direct in her feedback."

-Marie Trotter, writer and critic

"Katie Kuplack is the editor you need! Her perceptive notes and sharp eye for grammar, such as verb tense and sentence structure, will make your writing more professional and publishable. Katie will take your writing seriously, offering honest feedback and encouraging you to exceed your expectations. I recommend Katie’s editing services for any writing project that you value and hope to share with the world."

-Sarah O'Brien, EIC of Boston Accent Lit and author of Shapeshifter

How It Would Work:

You can message me here or email me at katiek.edits@gmail.com about the project you'd like me to work on and we'll talk about what service you're wanting, turnaround time, etc. I'm open to bouncing it back and forth as much as you need to get the final product you want. In the end, you get a more polished whatever-it-is, and I have your permission to keep before-and-after samples of your project for my portfolio, to be used on freelancing platforms like Upwork or eventually shown on my own website.

Types of Docs/Projects I am particularly interested in working on:

Short fiction and poetry.

Captions and subtitles*

Website copy and blog posts

Resumes, cover letters, other business writing

*I realize these typically don't get edited by a third party, but I am also interested in getting experience creating them if that's something you need!

Other stuff you should know:

I'm already familiar with AP Style, planning to learn Chicago, and can of course work with whatever company- or project-specific style guide you might have.

My topical specialties include English lit, pop culture, fandom, business communications, martial arts, beauty and skincare, and the coffee industry.

I have experience editing for ESL writers and translated work.

I can work with you through both Google and Microsoft applications.

What I will NOT work on:

Any AI-generated content

Marketing/sales copy

Full-length books/novels (not for free)

Amazon/Kindle e-books

Academic papers, dissertations, etc.

Please reblog to help me get this around and thank you if you read this whole thing! I know this is a long shot but I hope to hear from some of y'all soon. :)

[theartisticdoofus]

ok, so i WAS writing a continuation to my bsd x wtdsik fanfic 'baby ineed a drink' but it literally wont come out right i am crying how do fanfic writers do this, itis so incoherant, it jumps randomly, no continuity at all so instead i'm writing what the ada thinks of iruma right here instead. maybe i'll continue the fanfic LATER. Ok, so

Kunikida: this is what spawned my idea for just making a post about this in the first place. Iruma is greedy and wants everyone to be happy. he's kind and compassionate and he wants to do what Kunikida has accepted he can't.

Save everyone.

I think kunikida would think of iruma as a youngster who doesn't understand how the world works yet. he would be approving of iruma's kindness but dismissive of his ambitions and ideals as unable to compromise with reality. because kunikida learnt what it means to not be able to save everyone the hard way. i think he would sit iruma down and try to teach him. i think iruma (the current one if he doesn't relapse) would keep it in mind but cling onto his own ideal, his own ambitions. it is not very satifying to kunikida.

for everyone else, kunikida has to accept that his ideals can't be forced onto others because they dont have those specific goals or are just generally too flawed for it. For iruma, he has to accept that this child will attept carry out the most unattainable ideals no matter what. it will be fraught and i love thinking about it.

Atsushi: um. well. i think atsushi and iruma would get along well. like, that scene in beast where atsushi and aku just talks about the bullshit they went through during their childhoods and are friendly to each other for like. 10 minutes. that. Iruma sees himself in Atsushi, and Atsushi sees himself in Iruma. they are very different from each other and yet so similar. they would get along well i think and talk about dealing with their trauma and how it still affects them. the terrifying fact that they might not have survived without it. they would know not to get too deep.

Kyouka: these two are very similar. Kyouka was pretty much exploited by the Port Mafia for her ability at a young age and told she was good for nothing but killing. iruma was exploited by his parents and told that he should say yes to everything. they both have very deep trauma and are trying to get past it. but for how they actually interact, they are the only somewhat normal 14 year olds (Kenji is... he doesnt count) and iruma is used to talking to people his age now. kyouka would like having someone who just talks to her normally like another kid and its also someone who reminds her of Atsushi. i would be good for her to have someone around her own age she can talk to and who wouldnt be chased away by her assasin past. they would be good friends and maybe even open up to each other one day and when they do, they would help each other heal.

Yosano: She would really like Iruma, i think. They are, similarly to kyouka, two children exploited and traumutized for an adult's gain. Iruma's childhood literally just started at age 14 and before that there's nothing but trauma. Yosano was forced to be a medic in a war and watched her patients slip through her fingers because she couldnt save them and if she could save them, they died on the inside anyways. Yosano would admire Iruma's spirit and determination to get what he wants. does she believe he can? i dont know. but they get along fine (Iruma deals with demons on a daily basis, the agency's weirdness is slightly noteworthy but generally just another day for him) and if he gets injured, yosano just gives him an injection that half kills him instead of doing it herself.

Tanizaki: we dont know a lot about him, but he would really just do everything he can to help iruma out. but when he hears about what iruma's parents did, unlike kunikida who just wants to give them a lifetime sentence or government handled execution, he wants to kill them himself. this is because iruma's story reminds him of what happened to Kyouka and potentially Yosano and he is crazy protective of those he cares for.

Dazai: I'm not very sure about how to go about this. in the context of my fic, Dazai also got information out of iruma that helped him find the mole in the port mafia so he also owes iruma at least dinner. i think that chuuya would just dump iruma on his desk with money, go 'i'm not dealing with this, you deal with it' and dazai would act like he doesn't remember iruma just to tick chuuya off. iruma would then fucking prostrate before him and ask for his help with all the determination in his little heart and make fucking dazai feel ashamed or even embarrased for once in his life.

Fukuzawa: first, Fukuzawa is concerned about his childhood and promises the agency will do all they can to help him get home. he is also regretful that iruma was adpoted by demons because he would genuinely fit in great at the agency. iruma is also grandchild material.