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#I really really do appreciate comments on anything I write whether how small it's a big reassurance

veilder · 1 year

Note

I'm too shy to say this off anon but just wanted to say how much I appreciate your tags. You leave such lovely commentary everhtime you rb my art and its really encouraging and I've noticed you do it consistently for everyone. You're awesome!!! Keep doing you :) :)

Omg, thank you! That is so sweet of you to say! (Especially since I've been slacking on the reblogging lately, omg. I have so many saved in my drafts. T_T) That is very encouraging to hear and I'm glad I can help spread a little bit of positivity around for everyone who works so hard in their fandoms. Y'all definitely earned it! ^_^

#asks #seriously I'm so touched that people even notice my tags #I'm just trying to give back a little bit of the joy y'all put out there in the world! ^_^#y'all do such amazing things just for the joy of it #it's wonderful #thanks for the encouragement though!#sometimes I get bummed out by how much I'm *not* doing #whether that's getting behind in reblogging #or not reading/commenting on fics #or not writing my own...#I'm glad I can still do at least a small something here and there #makes me feel like I'm still a part of things y'know?#so thank you anon #I really appreciate your message ^_^#(and if you ever wanna chat or anything my DMs are always open!)

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r3dmooon · 1 year

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Hello i hope your having a wonderful day/night! Idk if your open to request right now but I hope you are! if your not then I'm sorry!! 😰 but may I request a Jessica rabbit type reader x wally daring?? You do this then thank you sm!!

summery: reader who's like Jessica Rabbit and how'd they'd be with Wally. gn! reader btw

tw: mentions of creepy male behavior.

a/n: my requests aren't open but I was surprisingly inspired by this. I haven't watched Who Framed Roger Rabbit in so long but I feel like I did a really good job! ALSO! I'm going to mainly write in headcanon style because for some reason I find it easier even though this is like...my third time writing headcanons lol.

wc: 0.5k

Master List

❥When you moved into the neighborhood, you immediately noticed that you were a bit…different. Flatter than the other residents…as in they were all 3D while you were 2D.

❥Everyone flocked you, curious as to how that was even possible. So you explained how you came from a town that was a bit more…animated. They were in awe as you told tales of your hometown. Even commenting on how they wanted to visit some day.

❥Even with all the commotion of your new neighbors, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on a certain yellow puppet. He watched from behind the others, gaze never leaving you. You couldn’t help but let your ego grow a bit, flaunting a bit more than you already do.

❥All the attention your first day left you a bit overwhelmed. Yes, you’ve dealt with crowds before when you worked as a singer at a bar in your hometown, but this kind of attention was different. It wasn’t the perverted stares you grew accustomed to. In fact, that was a bit of the reason why you left.

❥Even though you were overwhelmed the first day, you couldn’t help but appreciate how kind your new neighbors were. Once they learned that you were a singer they just had to have you perform (a bit to Sally’s dismay. But you're the new neighbor so she can let you have the spotlight this time).

❥As you sung a love song, your gaze was once again drawn to who you’ve come to know as Wally Darling. A fitting name, truely. His stare was intense as he watched you. You’d think you’d be creeped out by it, but you didn’t. In fact, you felt flattered. Compared to the creeps at the bar who’d oogle at you without shame, who’d cat call, who’d stare at you like you were lesser for whatever reasons…Wally’s stare was nothing like that. A bit empty, sure, but it wasn’t disrespectful or perverted.

❥Day by day, you found yourself growing infatuated with Wally. You wanted to spend more time with him. Get to know him better. Maybe even entertain an idea of something more.

❥It didn’t help that you caught on to his small shows of affection. His stare lingering on you being the tell-tale one. But you also caught him touching you, whether it be a pat on the shoulder or a short hug. How he gifted you things, sometimes a drawing, or just something that ‘reminded him of you’ (which made you feel more confident at the fact that he thinks about you).

❥You were the first to finally make a move. The entire neighborhood knew about the flirting you two participated in, not like you were keeping it a secret. But you could tell that Wally didn’t seem like he was going to do anything further than that.

❥Let’s just say everyone was relieved when you two became partners. Only to realize they’d have to deal with even more lovey dovey flirting afterwards.

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #anon ask

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 2 years

Text

when he sees me || Lee Know

Pairing: Lee Know x f!Reader

Summary: Interacting with others has never been easy for you, whether it is talking to them or, worse, flirting with them. As a result, relationships, but also any form of sexual interactions have always eluded you. You had no reason to think that was going to change anytime soon.

And then your hot neighbor’s cat shows up in your apartment, and you think that things just might change. Even if it’s only on one front.

Word count: 13.3k

Genre: Neighbors AU, slice of life, smut, fluff & angst

Warnings & Tags: mention of a dead grandparent, social anxiety, insecurities, loss of virginity, reader doesn’t tell minho that she’s a virgin, smut (vaginal sex, oral sex [female receiving], fingering, very soft sex), unreliable narrator, unresolved romantic tension.

A/N: Hi everyone! After going through a rough past couple of... six months, hence the disappearance, and pretty much not writing/not finishing anything for all of that, I just really wanted to try writing something again. This was long — it basically took me the whole summer to write this piece — but I’m happy that I’ve managed to create something again :) Thank you to all of the people who sent kind messages during that time, I saw them and truly appreciated them. I hope you enjoy this, and I would really appreciate it if you could let me know your thoughts, especially if you like it!

“It sounds like you really needs to get laid,” Nari comments, and the table laughs heartily while you smile. You make the conscious effort of creasing your eyes, so it looks genuine, but hopefully no one can tell. She reaches over to grab your hand, an amused grin on her face, and squeezes it. “We’ll get on that soon, I promise, but in the meantime, being here is the next best thing.”

You smile and nod, but you also shift slightly in your chair.

‘Here’ is the District 9, and it’s, for all intents and purposes, a strip club. There’s no actual stripping happening, but there are scantily-clad men dancing on stage, and rumors flying around about ‘private sessions’ that can happen in one of the backrooms, if you’re willing to pay. You and your friends — coworkers — are here for the men. But, as the lights dim and your friends start clapping, instead of focusing on the stage, you cast a look over your shoulder.

You’re pretty bad at the whole ‘neighbors’ thing. It’s not a voluntary decision, and more of a unfortunate consequence of how bad you are at maintaining interpersonal relationships. Over the years, you’ve come to a certain mastery of small-talk. You’ve gotten quite decent at making a good first impression, as long as someone starts the interaction for you.

You’d been living in the apartment your grandmother had left you for a little over six months when you found out most of the people living on the same floor as you resented you for never introducing yourself to them.

“I didn’t know I had to,” you’d mumbled awkwardly, shoulders shrinking.

“It’s not like you have to,” your mother had been quick to reply. “It’s just the polite thing to do, you know?”

Yeah. ‘The polite thing to do’ was usually what you had to do, but it didn’t surprise you that she wouldn’t understand what that meant for someone like you.

You’d regained their favor by helping out here and there when it came to carrying the groceries. Most of the people here had, like your grandmother, bought an apartment in the building with the intention of spending their retirement here. It wasn’t a great place by any stretch of the imagination, but it had an elevator and a bus line close by. At that age, that had been enough to convince them of pouring their whole life savings into an apartment, and you thought the sense of community it gave them was enough to make it worth it. It was good to know that your grandmother wouldn’t have been isolated here, though the fact that she’d never made it into the apartment broke your heart every time you thought about it.

There seemed to be one other person your age, a man you’d caught glimpses of every now and then. You’d seen someone with a hoodie standing in front of the mailboxes, you’d noticed a motorcycle that you were convinced no one else here could be using and, once, you’d seen a side profile — strong nose, well-defined jaw, bored eyes, and an earring dangling by his neck — as he’d walked past the elevator. As a reflex, you’d lifted a hand to halt it, but he hadn’t so much as glanced in your direction, going straight for the staircase.

No one here took the stairs.

“What a handsome young man,” Mrs. Choi has sighed dreamily next to you, before giving you a pointed look. “Don’t you agree, darling?”

The question had brought a smile to your lips. You found it sweet, the way older people in the building seemed to really want you to find a significant other.

“I didn’t see him all that well,” you had answered.

But what you’d seen had, indeed, been more than enough for you to agree to her.

The first dancer to get on stage has Nari gasping sharply and mumbling a quiet “fuck” under her breath, and it makes you grin. He’s been introduced as Chris, though you happen to know that’s not what his friends call him. For now, he’s sitting astride a chair, back turned towards the public.

To be fair, it is a very nice back. Muscular, with broad shoulders, and what you can guess of the arms seems impressive as well. When he turns around, Nari pretty much spits out the alcohol she’d just ingested at an attempt of calming herself down. He looks completely focused on his routine as he starts to dance, more sputter coming from your friends when he starts to aggressively thrust his hips.

He’s hot, you can’t deny that, but— you’re not sure. This kind of things just— doesn’t seem to be for you. Maybe it’s the monetary aspect that makes you uncomfortable, maybe it’s the way he’s avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s impossible for you to imagine that someone like you could be attracted to you, even remotely.

That’s not a new thing for you. Generally speaking, you can’t imagine the people you’re attracted to could be interested in you in return.

With one recent exception to this rule.

You had just come home from work, and all you wanted to do was throw yourself on your couch with a drama and never think about the outside world ever again. It was way later than it should reasonably be, because, as often, you’d stayed behind to work. So had most of your department. Unpaid hours, away from family and respite. You suspected that rhythm would drive you insane at some point, but you hoped you still had a few years left before that.

You had just had enough time to grab something to drink in your fridge when you’d heard meowing outside the window.

That wasn’t a rare occurence in the building. While cats weren’t technically allowed, they were tolerated, considering the fact that a good three quarters of the people here owned at least one.

What was rare was for one to be on your balcony, ginger tail up in the air as the cat’s head went through the bars. Your heart leaped in your chest, and you were on your feet in a second, rushing to the bay window. You opened it slowly, not wanting to scare the small animal, but were quick to pull it back after that, which earned you a nasty scratch to your wrist. Still, after that the cat was inside, no longer at risk of falling out.

“Where the hell did you come from?” you mumbled, watching him lap up the water you’d served for him. The only answer to your question was that he had jumped from an above balcony. He didn’t seem to be limping, but you had no way of making sure that he wasn’t injured.

When you left in the morning, after too short a night of sleep, you put a note about the cat on the building door, then went about your day.

The mystery man was sitting on the floor in front of your door when you got home. His head’s falling forward, face hidden by the black hoodie, but it snaps up with the ding of the elevator and then he’s looking straight at you.

And you forget how to breathe for a second.

‘Handsome’ doesn’t even begin to cover the way he looks. Almost black eyes are staring up at you, and dark brown hair fall in front of his face and framing it elegantly. Your eyes follow the nose, down to the well defined philtrum, the fleshy lips. He looks unreal.

You swallow.

“You’re here for the cat?” you manage to squeak out, after what you hope wasn’t too long or uncomfortable of a silence.

The man sighs and pushes himself up, letting his hood fall back. He’s not wearing the same earring as last time.

“Ginger cat?”

“With a white belly,” you’re quick to nod.

“Is he an asshole?”

Your mouth falls open. Maybe it’s because you’re so careful with your language, especially around strangers, but the vulgarity takes you by surprise. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“I mean I might not phrase it like that,” you mumble, “but, uh, yeah, he’s not…” You glance down at the bandage on your hand, hiding it behind your back. “He’s not very nice.”

Another sigh. He runs a hand through his hair, and you follow the movement with wide eyes — and probably too much interest.

“Yeah. That sounds like Doongie.”

He leans against the wall, and when you realize he’s waiting for you, you rush by him to open the door.

“So, where, uh, where do you live?”

With your back turned towards him, you miss the brief tightening of his shoulders at your question.

“Above here,” he shrugs, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling.

That makes it even stranger that he’s not taking the elevator, you think as you step inside and kick your shoes off by the door.

“He must be somewhere around here, I—”

“There he is,” the man comments from behind you.

And, indeed, the cat’s sitting on the table. He has interrupted the cleaning of his paw to stare at you and his owner, but the sight doesn’t seem to captivate him long, because he soon goes back to his business.

You hear a light chuckle behind you, and when you look back, you see a surprisingly fond smile on the man’s face. It completely transforms his expression, making him go from cold and kind of scary to warm and friendly in a second.

“It’s definitely him. Can I—?”

“Oh, sure, be my guest, but, uh, be careful. He lets his claws out pretty easily.”

When he shoots you a grin at the warning, you think you’re about to faint. Despite it, and despite his earlier claim that the cat was an asshole, he has no difficulty in catching it, and you hear him mumble some quiet, sweet praises to the cat as he scratches it behind the ear. The cat doesn’t complain either.

“Any idea how he got here?” you ask, just to say something, because standing awkwardly in the door entrance feels weird.

“He’s a little acrobat, aren’t you Doongie?” the man responds.

“I saw that there were some, uh, barriers you can put up to stop your cat from falling. Even if he's clearly good at that stuff, you know, it can’t hurt.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll look into that,” he nods, slowly walking towards the entrance, careful to keep the cat steady in his arms. As he gets closer, you hear the cat’s purring, and you resist the temptation to caress it, worried that you’ll make him unhappy again. “Thank you, by the way. For looking after him.”

“Oh, that’s— That’s nothing, really,” you’re quick to shake your head. “I was happy to, and I’m happy he found his way back to you.”

“It’s Minho, by the way,” he says, and you nod, replying with your name, as he puts his shoes back on with surprising dexterity considering one of his hands is taken by a now pliant Doongie.

“Let me know if you need someone to keep an eye on him,” you say, though you’re immediately unsure of where that came from, of whether or not you’re sincere or if you’re just trying to be polite.

That makes the corner of his lips twitch — a smile that is for you this time, though it soon vanishes.

“Then you’d also have to deal with his siblings, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t want to force that on you.”

Siblings. Plural. That’s at least three cats.

Maybe you should adopt one too. So far, your crippling fear of disobeying authority has kept you from doing it, but if everyone in the building has some, it’s kind of unfair if you have to hold back.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” you say, deciding that you do mean it. “I guess I’ll, uh, see you around?”

He nods, bowing his head in a polite gesture, before he walks out. You notice that, once more, he heads towards the staircase rather than the elevator, and your brain uselessly notes that if he’s always doing that, it explains how impressive his thighs look, but you shut it down.

Someone else, like your friends, for example, would probably have immediately started daydreaming about some neighbor romance. You have to admit that it is incredibly tempting, even if he barely looked at you throughout the whole thing, to imagine yourself in his arms. Yet, you reign your imagination in quickly. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment by imagining something that will never be.

After all, it’s never worked for you before.

“Holy shit, that was fucking hot,” Nari mumbles next to you, swallowing half of her drink in one go. “This place is heaven on earth.”

“I’d sell my whole family to ride those hips,” Daeun hisses from across the table, a sentiment that is echoed by the other girls. You don’t say anything, not that anyone notices. It’s not so much that you disagree, but rather that you feel— somewhat ill-equipped to deal with that sort of conversations. Enough to make you retreat in your chair, hoping no one notices.

The issue, here, is your complete lack of experience. It’s not that you ‘haven’t dated in a while’, though that is usually what you say. You haven’t dated. At all. And you don’t have the experience that people your age are supposed to have. At all. Not a first time, not a first hook-up, and, until quite recently, not even a stupid first kiss.

It didn’t bother you for a long time, as your years in high school, then in college, had passed. You’d always thought it would come, eventually. At some point, though, it had started giving you this gnawing feeling. You had never been your biggest fan, after all. Slowly, the question of whether or not something was wrong with you started taking up more and more space in your mind. That was what people said about incels, right? That they were unable to accept that they were responsible for people’s lack of interest.

After all, it wasn’t just that you hadn’t ever gotten that far with anyone. It was a general lack of interest. Where your friends never came back from a trip without a few stories about guys hitting on them, it just… didn’t happen to you. It didn’t help how shitty it made you feel that you were so ashamed of your own feelings, when your friends were complaining about unwanted male attention. When they talked about how ‘guys would hit on anything that looks even vaguely like a woman’.

Wasn’t it just pathetic? Were you really that desperate, that stupid to feel like that over what were essentially stories of sexual harassment?

Fuck. No wonder no one was interested, or that no one had ever been interested.

Your friends from high school and college — the ones you still talked to — were aware of the complete desert that were your romantic and sexual lives. Your colleagues… weren’t. It had just become embarrassing to mention it, at some point.

So, whenever something like that came up you just— tried to make yourself disappear, basically.

It definitely didn’t help that, for the first time since college and your last handful of disappointing and unrequited crushes, there was someone that you would like to have something with.

It’s 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning when you’re woken up by relentless knocking against your door. You’ve been asleep for five hours, tops, which wasn’t part of your plans for how you wanted to start the week-end. You stumble out of bed, then through your living-room, and you’re yawning when you open the door.

“Wh-what’s going on?” you slur sleepily.

In front of you if the neighbor with the cat. Minho, your brain provides to you after a painful second of hesitation. In your defense, you haven’t seen him since the incident, which must have been— about a month ago, you’d say. You’d even wondered if he’d left the building because, yes, embarrassingly, you had been hoping you’d run into him again, even though, up until now, you’d suspected he had promptly forgotten your existence after stepping out of your apartment.

“Does your offer to look after my cats still stand?”

You blink, and you notice that he’s holding two cats in his arms, with a third one in a box on the floor.

“What?”

“My mom fell down the stairs,” he says quickly, words so fast they come out jumbled. “I have to go see her and it— it shouldn’t be for more than a few days. I promise.”

You study his face, wondering if he’s lying and on his way to a week-end with his friends, wondering if you’re being taken advantage of by some guy who’s noticed how desperate for any kind of male attention you—

This isn’t helping.

Looking at him, his fear seems obvious. His eyes are searching yours, his breathing is shallow, and the twinge of panic in his voice finishes to convince you.

“Sure,” you say. “I’ll—”

“Okay,” he says, rushing to put the cats he was holding inside. “This one’s Soonie,” he point to a ginger cat, “Dori,” grey cat, “and you’ve already met Doongie. This,” he grabs a box, “is their food and litter box, they eat twice a day, dry food in the morning, wet in the evening, water whenever they want. They like to play but you don’t have to do anything with them and—” he pulls out a paper from his pocket, “that’s my number in case you need anything.”

You shake your head a little in a desperate effort to follow him, but he just said far too many words for your tired brain.

“Alright,” you say instead of asking for clarification. “Any idea when you’ll get back?”

“I hope Monday, but if it lasts longer than that I’ll—” He lets out a long sigh, closes his eyes for a second. “I’ll pay for anything you need and I’ll— I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Sure,” you yawn. “You should get going then.”

He stays there though, not moving, and cold air blows in from the corridor, prompting you to wrap yourself tighter in your cardigan.

“Is this really okay with you?”

You stare at him for a second. Your usual inhibitions around handsome men seem to be considerably dampened by the fact that you’re so fucking tired and want nothing more than going back to bed.

“You should go,” you repeat, trying your best to keep your voice gentle. “I’ll take good care of them, so you shouldn’t worry about that. Just be careful on the way there, okay?”

It’s his turn to stare. He seems to be expecting you to pull the rug from under his feet, to throw him out with the cats. Finally, he exhales slowly, looking down at the floor. When he meets your eyes again, your heart almost bursts.

“Thank you,” he says, sincerely.

And then he's out the door, running towards the stairs, and out of your eyesight in just a second. By your feet, Dori lets out a sad meow, and you nod.

“Yeah. I hope you guys don’t mind being alone, because I’m going back to bed.”

Second dancer goes by Hyunjin. He’s taller and leaner than the last one, muscles less impressive, but well-defined and bulging at his every movement. His long black hair are tied into a ponytail, but two loose strands fall on either side of his face. Based on what you’ve heard, the effect is completely deliberate — but it’s working.

“Oh my God he’s pretty,” Daeun comments, and you think she would have spat out her drink if she hadn’t finished it right after Chris’ set.

“We should come here more often,” Nari says.

You still don’t open your mouth.

Minho isn’t back by Monday. You muster up the courage to shoot him a quick text, telling him you hope everything’s okay, and letting him know the cats are doing fine. You don’t ask anything, not because you don’t want to know, but because you don’t want to seem rude or unpleasant. His response, on the other hand, is curt and monosyllabic, and they remain that way for the next couple of days, until you find him waiting in front of your door again on Thursday.

He gets up quicker than the last time, giving you a nod as a greeting, but he avoids meeting your eyes.

“My mom got back from the hospital yesterday,” he lets you know, “so I helped her with getting settled.”

There’s a silence during which you try to figure out what to answer — I’m sorry, That’s good news, It must have been hard for you — and he breaks it after only a couple of seconds.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just— drop that on you.”

He’s fidgeting. Uncomfortable. That’s not an attitude you’re used to people having in front of you, but it’s one you empathize with a lot, so you try your best to find a reply.

“It wasn’t an issue at all,” you say, pushing your door open and gesturing for him to follow. “I’m just afraid your cats were bored when I was away at work, you know?”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “Again.”

“No problem,” you manage to smile. “I’ll help you get everything back to your place, okay?”

He opens his mouth to protest, then deflates.

“That’d be nice,” he just says.

It takes a little while to gather everything — mostly to gather the cats —, and then you’re stepping into the elevator.

“Doongie’s really taken to you,” Minho comments. He sounds impressed, a little fond, and when you glance at him, you see that he’s smiling. Looking at the cat, sure, and yet you find something about this moment that is— You’re not entirely sure. Fragile, you think. Delicate. Like he’s letting you see a part of himself that isn’t often seen by strangers.

Because, at the end of the day, that’s all you are. A stranger he’d run into once before, and who he didn’t seem to have much interest in knowing, if the way he talked to you and pointedly didn’t look at you was anything to go by.

You can practically feel yourself shrinking as you stand next to him in silence in the small space of the elevator. You feel stupid. Stupid for being hopeful, stupid for thinking about him as much as you did in the past week, stupid for engaging in brief daydreams, even if you shot them down quickly, fearing exactly what was happening right now. You also feel stupid for all of the emotions that are overwhelming you, when you could just stop overthinking, stop assuming how people feel about you, and just try to— just try to live a little.

You press your lips together as you walk out on the last floor, warming up your face to prepare yourself for smiling and speaking. But, just as you’re about to ask him which door is his, Minho gestures towards the stairs.

“It’s that way,” he says. He doesn't look at you as he walks over, but he turns around, holding the door open, inviting you to follow with a movement of the head. You hesitate just a second, both because he took you by surprise and because you think there’s something defensive, guarded, in his expression. Then it clicks.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had the rooftop apartment,” you say, rushing so he doesn’t have to wait for you.

“It's cheap,” he replies, climbing the stairs two at a time. Again, there’s something tense in his tone. You think. You could be mistaken. You’ve been known to get that kind of things wrong in conversations before.

Rushing after him, you find yourself glancing around curiously when you step foot on the roof. There isn’t much there, actually. You notice a few chairs and a wooden table, folded against the wall of the small building, and an empty clothes line put up a little further away. The apartment itself looks small from the outside, and you suspect it wouldn’t be much better if you walked in. The brick walls look solid — you’ve seen shabbier — but the black roof seems like it would be terrible for the summer heat.

“So do you keep the cats inside?” you ask.

“I keep Doongie inside,” Minho mumbles. “The others are smart enough not to try to get down from there. He’s not. Here, if you’ll just—”

He’s set down the cats and the bags he was holding and extends his arms. You almost protest that you can do it yourself, before catching on to the fact that he might not want you to get inside his house. So you hand Doongie over as the cat protests meekly, and stand awkwardly while Minho rushes him inside.

“Okay, all good.”

“He hasn’t found a way to escape yet?” you ask.

Minho chuckles briefly at your question, eyes creasing. You think it might be the first time you’ve seen him smile at you. The sight feels mesmerizing, but it fades all too soon as he clears his throat and brushes his jeans with the palm of his hands.

“So, uh, how much do I owe you?”

You blink, and then an unpleasant cold spreads through your chest.

“What— Oh, do you mean for the cats? Nothing, that’s— I was happy to help. Really.”

You’re not sure why the question is this upsetting to you. You just hope he was only saying it to be polite and that he’ll drop the subject now. But instead, he shakes his head, already ruffling through his pockets for what you assume to be his wallet.

“No, I can’t let you do that. I looked for an average online and—”

But you’ve tuned him out, realizing what the problem is.

The problem is that it makes everything so— transactional. Makes it look like you were doing it because you were interested instead of just because you were— well. Nice. It makes you wonder about what image Minho has of you, and you don’t think you like that image very much, that it’s how you want him to see you. You fold your arms, briefly squeezing them in your hands. The gesture brings you some shallow comfort, and it’s enough for now.

It also feels like the final indication that he isn’t interested in you in any way shape or form, wanting to just settle a debt and move on.

“No,” you say, raising your hands, “seriously, don’t, it’s— I had a lot of fun with these little guys. I’d even be happy to do it again.”

Finally, he glances up at you.

“Really?”

You’re quick to nod, making a conscious effort not to avert your eyes when you meet his.

“Really.”

The soft smile reappears, and for a second, everything else vanishes. All the anxiety, all of the fears, all of the thoughts that you are more than aware are irrational and yet can never shake off. He finally looks relaxed, with even a hint of happiness, you think.

Until he glances down at his phone and curses.

“Shit. I have to get ready for work.” And just like that, the tension is back. “I’m a bartender,” he adds.

“Oh, alright, I guess I’ll leave you to it then and I’ll— I’ll see you around?”

You pray that you don’t sound too hopeful or too desperate, but Minho doesn’t seem to notice as he hums in response.

“Sure. And I’ll find a way to repay you.” When you open your mouth to protest, again, a corner of his lips lifts in an almost playful smirk. “No money. But I owe you.”

You can’t help but smile. A second later, he’s disappeared inside the house, and you make your way back down the stairs.

All things considered, you think this went well.

“If things go like this the whole night I might not survive this, guys,” Daeun sighs dreamily, and you laugh out loud, though it’s drowned in the music.

“Not without alcohol, anyways,” Nari echoes. “Looks like most of the glasses are empty… Who’s willing to sacrifice themselves?”

“I’ll go,” you say, maybe just a beat too quick.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Nari frowns, and you know that, as often, she’s worried you’re letting yourself be used. “You’re going to miss the show. Someone else can go.”

You shake your head.

“It’s fine.”

She hesitates a second longer, before her attention is caught by the next performer — Spear B, shorter than Hyunjin, but who you know to be exactly her type, from the impressive width of his shoulders to his strong, large thighs. You grin, getting up and starting to walk towards the bar. Normally, the thought of talking to someone would be enough to send anxiety down your spine, but this time, as your eyes find the person you’re looking for, it’s a whole different kind of emotion that bubbles in your chest.

It starts with food. One time, Minho rushes towards the elevator, which you hold open for him, surprised to see him there. You press the additional button to the last floor while he catches his breath.

“Not taking the stairs today?” you ask, because you’re not very good at small talk and you don’t know what else to say.

Instead of answering, he pulls a plastic container out of his bag and hands it over to you.

“Cookies,” you say, not sure you understand.

“I got the recipe from a friend. So if they’re bad it’s his fault.”

You chuckle, but still shake your head.

“I don’t— Is that for me?”

“I mean you can share them if you want to. But yes.”

You’re still looking at the box, and you don’t notice him shifting his weight from one foot onto the other as he watches carefully for your reaction.

“That’s so nice, thank you!”

You catch the grin that spreads on his face, even though he ducks his head almost immediately, setting his gaze on the ground. It takes you a second before you figure out whether or not you want to add something. Finally, you manage a tiny sliver of a voice.

“You know, I told you you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupts you, voice light. “I just want to.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly at that. This feels— fine. Good, even. It feels like a normal interaction, something you don’t get that much of unless you’re with close friends.

“In that case, thank you again,” you say, stepping out of the elevator.

He nods, slightly bowing his head, and you smile at him as the doors close.

After that, Minho keeps bringing you small offerings of food. You run into him one morning and he offers you gimbap. Another time, he shoves a box of brownies in your hands while he’s rushing out of the building — “If you didn’t like the cookies, I wouldn’t eat that, it’s the same friend’s recipe”, he says, and before you can tell him again how good the cookies were, he’s jumped on his motorcycle. Then there’s the tteokbokki that he brings you, still warm, and that’s when you find the courage to invite him in, so that he can eat with you.

He hesitates just long enough for you to feel ridiculous for even asking. But then he nods.

The meal is quiet. The two of you sit in silence, save for a few attempts at starting a conversation on your part, which he doesn’t seem responsive to, and a number of questions about the quality of the food, coming from him. Though he spends most of the time looking down at his plate, his eyes regularly follow your movements, without him lifting his head.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks for the third time once the plate is empty.

“It was delicious,” you answer, again, “but it feels like I’m constantly thanking you for food these days…”

“That’s just because I’m preparing you for taking care of the cats again,” he says.

You look up in surprise, both because you weren’t expecting him to be this blunt and because you didn’t think that would happen again anytime soon. His lips are a straight line, though your eyes catch, once more, on the philtrum; and his eyes are empty, an expression he seems very skilled at maintaining.

Finally, just a second after you’ve decided that this has gone on too long to be a joke, he grins and his eyes crease.

“I’m not doing that. I do find it funny to see how much you hesitate before you accept something because you think it’s about the cats though.”

You feel your cheeks heating up, though it’s not quite in embarrassment.

“I just don’t want you to feel like—”

“I know, I get it.” A shrug. “I don’t want you to feel like I was freeloading off of you. I always pay my debts.”

“I don’t consider it a debt,” you mumble.

It’s interesting how these few sentences feel like they give you a completely new understanding of who Minho is as a person. Even though you’ve seen him around quite a bit recently, even though he’s been sitting across from you for the past half an hour, this might be the moment when you stop thinking that the two of you are little more than strangers to one another.

For a little while, there’s just comfortable silence between the two of you. Minho’s closed his eyes, shoulders low, head slightly lulled backwards. It strikes you then how exhausted he looks, and you want to ask how his job has been lately, if you haven’t been keeping him for too long, when he opens them again, shaking his head to get rid of the sleepiness.

“I’m having a few friends over next Thursday. Just getting drinks and maybe grilling some meat. You should join.” When you bite your lower lip, debating over it, he adds “I know it’s a weekday, but I promise I’ll get you home by midnight. We’ll be good.”

There’s something about the way he says that, about his grin that has you feeling flush once more.

“I— I’ll, uh, I’ll see if I can make it,” you squeak.

You think you see a hint of disappointment at the non-committal answer, but Minho nods anyway, then starts to stand up.

“It would be nice if you did,” he just says. “If you don’t come, I’ll bring you some meat.”

You stop yourself just before saying ‘You don’t have to’.

“If I’m not too taken by work, I’ll try to come,” you promise, which appears to satisfy him a bit more.

It’s only after he’s gone that you allow yourself to take a deep breath, one hand coming to press against your heart. You’re bad at this whole thing, terrible really, and you’re so terrified of the way rejection makes you feel that you’d rather never think that anyone is interested in you but this— This felt like what you think flirting would be, right? Right?

If it was, you’d say it was kind of nice.

You think you could get used to that.

Your heart’s beating loudly in your chest as you walk over to the bar, almost in sync with the fast-paced music that’s playing in the club. You notice Minho’s eyes landing on you, and you manage to muster a smile, resisting the urge to glance away when you’re caught looking. It’s not easy to fight it, not when you’re feeling this ridiculously nervous. It’s hard to pinpoint why, exactly. There are so many thoughts, so many taunts floating inside your brain, spat out at you by the part of you that’s terrified of rejections. Any of them, taken separately, feel irrational, stupid, and even embarrassing. Together, though, they form an impenetrable, terrifying cloud that you never seem to be able to get rid of.

What if he’s not interested in you? What if he thinks you’re pathetic for thinking he could be into you? What if everyone thinks you’re going for someone who’s out of your league? What if you misread everything? What if he finds out that no one’s ever been interested in you before and thinks it has to mean that there’s something wrong with you?

“Having fun?” Minho asks you when you reach the bar, words coming so easily from him when you were still trying to figure out what to say.

“Sure,” you say. “Just… feels a bit weird. You know, because I’ve met them.”

He hums at that, though you think you see a discreet grin forming on his lips.

“Can I get you something?”

Right. Drinks.

“Oh, yeah, uh, three Margaritas, one Martini, and one Virgin Mojito.”

“Not drinking to get through this?” he asks, grin more obvious this time.

“I wish,” you mumble, even if you haven’t had a drop of alcohol since the one time you got absolutely plastered in college. “But no. I guess I’ll have to sit through this sober.”

Whoops echo in the room as Spear B — well, Changbin — starts to thrust his hips aggressively on stage. It’s kind of hot, probably, but God, this just isn’t your scene.

“My shift ends in half an hour,” Minho comments as he starts making the drinks, and you turn your head back towards him, blinking. “I could take you home.”

For half a second, you almost reply ‘thanks, but my friends will never let me go’, before you stop to think about how this might be an invitation. Maybe. You’re not actually sure. Even when Minho glances up at you, clearly expecting an answer, you just— can’t fucking figure it out. He could very well just be offering you a ride home.

Which, to be fair, you wouldn’t be opposed to.

“That would be nice,” you say, a genuine, easy smile forming on your lips this time.

There’s one silent, perfect moment when your eyes meet his, creased by his smile, and you think of how different he looks from when you first saw him, how you’d never expected to see that side of him, and how wrong you’d been about it all. And it makes you just a little more willing to take a risk.

“Come on,” he says, “I’ll bring the drinks for you guys.”

He follows you over, expertly putting down the tray that you feel you would have had trouble balancing even while standing still. His hand brushes over the small of your back when he stands back up, and you notice Nari’s eyebrows lifting up, even as she’s looking at you only from the corner of her eye. You hope he doesn’t notice you almost shivering at the contact. There’s no rational explanation for the way you feel heat radiating from the spot he’s barely even touching.

“I’ll meet you outside in thirty minutes?”

There’s a hint of a question in his tone, an uncertainty in his eyes. It all clears away when you nod.

“Perfect.”

When he’s gone, everyone turns to look at you. You’re not one for the attention, but this time, it makes you giggle like a schoolgirl.

“He’s taking me home,” you say quietly.

“Holy shit he’s hot,” Nari hisses. “If it doesn’t work with him, you should give me— Hey!”

Daeun gives you a thumbs up with a nod of approval. You’re pretty sure she just kicked Nari under the table, and you hope she doesn’t see the way your smile stiffens. The thought of Nari and Minho is— unpleasant. You have no right to be jealous, yet the feeling burrows in your stomach, only strengthened by the certainty that, if given the choice, Minho would probably pick her.

After all, you’re no one’s first choice.

You force yourself to take a deep breath. Fuck it. You don’t know if you’re the person he would pick if he could get anyone out there, but tonight, you are his choice. And that’s good enough for you.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, examining the way you’re dressed, your make-up, your hair, anything that you could pick apart. You’re definitely overthinking a simple evening with Minho’s friends, you’ve definitely spent far too long figuring out what to wear in order to be neither overdressed nor undressed, and you’re so close from deciding not to go, just so you won’t have to keep thinking about it.

Ultimately, though, you step in the elevator, holding the bottle of wine you’d bought earlier for the occasion. You suppose beer would have been more appropriate, but then again, other people probably have that covered and— God, sometimes you wish you could just get your brain to shut the fuck up.

You make your way up to Minho’s rooftop apartment gingerly, having been unable to find the light switch. You feel relieved when you hear that there’s already noise up there — both because you’re not the first to show up and because it indicates that you didn’t mess up either the time or the date, probably.

Your eyes immediately search for Minho — though your brain still registers the fact that the men that are on the rooftop are some of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen, what the fuck — and you’ve barely just found him, busy grilling some meat, when someone steps in front of you.

“You must be the downstairs neighbor,” he says, dimples forming as he smiles warmly. “I’m Chan, I work with Minho.”

“Hi,” you say, a little too high. “It’s nice to meet you, uh, have you been here for long? I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” he handwaves your concerns. “We usually get together on Thursdays because Fridays tend to be big nights for us, so we kinda just show up. Minho said he wasn’t sure you’d be there tonight, he said you were busy with work or something?”

“Right, yeah, I—”

“Ah, you made it!” Minho materializes next to you, startling you. “And you’ve met Chan,” he adds, tone all sweet and sugary, which seems to be wildly entertaining to Chan.

“I was just saying hi,” he says, grin too wide for the occasion, though you can’t exactly figure out what’s going on here.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” Minho nods as one of his arms somehow finds itself around your shoulders. The contact makes you freeze, though you don’t find it invasive, just— unexpected. His arm is light and you could easily shake it off. But you choose not to, and after a couple of seconds, his fingers close around your arm. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone!”

“It was nice meeting you Chan,” you pipe as you walk away, much to his delight.

After that come a number of introductions. Minho introduces you to the person he bartends with, and then a number of people who are just vaguely described as coworkers. Hyunjin, tall and so pretty you almost ask if that’s a requirement for this friend group — would have if you’d been a little more comfortable in social settings —, Felix, with his freckles and his deep voice, Jisung, who Minho takes you away from after you’ve burst out laughing at his jokes twice, and Changbin, who offers to let you feel his biceps surprisingly quickly into the conversation. Finally, Minho leaves you with Seungmin — ‘the accountant’ — to get back to cooking, though not without throwing him a threatening look.

Everyone seems to have broken into little groups, some trying to be helpful, like Felix and Chan, and others… less so.

“So Minho said you kept his cats?” Seungmin asks. He’s soft-spoken, with kind eyes, and you wonder if Minho left you with him because he figured he was a better introduction to the group for you than some of the more energetic people.

It’s at least nice to think that he would have that kind of concerns.

“I did! You, uh, you’ve met them?”

He grimaces.

“Once. I had to get stitches.”

“Oh God. Let me guess. Doongie.” The dramatic sigh he heaves out makes you chuckle. “He got better after a couple of days,” you explain. “Even wanted to cuddle towards the end.”

“He still hates Hyunjin,” he comments. “Barely tolerates Felix. Would probably maul Chan if he wasn’t scared of how loud he is. I’m impressed he didn’t murder you in your sleep.” There’s a twinkle in his eye when he says that. “I’m sure Minho was impressed too.”

You open your mouth to protest, before stopping yourself. A couple of weeks ago, you would have said that there was no way Minho was impressed, or even really grateful, but your perspective’s changed since then. Sure, he doesn’t show his emotions much, but then again, neither do you. You glance in his direction. He’s focused on flipping the meat, visibly ignoring Changbin’s comments. As always, you’re struck by how handsome he is, and that air of concentration in particular does something to you. But then you see him feeding a piece of meat to Jisung after blowing on it.

Caring. He’s incredibly caring. You just— need to stick around a little to find out about it.

“He didn’t act like it,” you tell Seungmin. “I kind of thought he just didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I know the feeling. But hey, he stayed in the emergency room with me for five hours after his cat crippled me, so…”

Minho glances up when you laugh, and you notice him gesturing you over to try the meat as well.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Jisung warns you, pouting, when you get closer.

Minho blows on the meat again, slowly brings it to your lips, with one hand underneath in case it falls.

“Good?” he asks.

It shouldn’t make you feel like this to be the sole object of his attention.

“So good,” you reply after chewing it down quickly.

Minho gives a satisfied nod, and you simply cannot tear your eyes away from him as he finally tries the meat himself and a delighted expression forms on his face.

“It’s ready!” he shouts.

It’s not long before everyone has found a place, kneeling or sitting cross-legged on the floor around the table you assume Minho got out of the apartment for the occasion. Minho’s sitting on your right, with Chan on your left. Happy chatter is rising around the table, filling the night, all the people here clearly enjoying each other’s presence. You enjoy the atmosphere it gives, but it's also not easy to forget that you're an outsider here, still not quite sure why you’re here at all.

Though the way Minho casually puts meat on top of your rice, inviting you to eat it with a discreet nod might give you a small idea.

Chan’s the one who talks to you first, though. He makes small talk look so easy, you can’t help but get jealous. You’ve had to work on yours so much, and even then, you still have to stick to your script, while his seems effortless. He’s nice, bright, warm, and you just know you would have had a crush on him if you’d met in high school.

“So, what do you guys do exactly? Seungmin’s the accountant, but you…”

For the first time in the night, he seems to get a little uncomfortable, letting out an awkward laugh and rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Ah, we’re, uh, dancers. At the club where Minho works.” When you don’t seem to get it, he sighs and explains, watching your reaction carefully. “Well, stripping is— frowned upon, basically, but it’s— that kind of thing.”

“Oh,” you say, eyes going wide, “oh, I didn’t— I didn’t even know Minho worked at a club, but that’s, uh, are you guys… dancers first or—?”

“Trained dancers, yeah,” he supplies easily. “It's really well paid and, well… There’s usually a captive audience. So that’s nice.” Even as he says that, you can see the tip of his ears going red. “But, so, Minho didn’t tell you much about what he does?”

It’s such an obvious attempt to change the subject of conversation that even you can tell that’s what’s happening.

“He doesn’t… tell me much. In general.”

“Hm,” Chan frowns sympathetically, “he’s kind of like that in the beginning but, y’know, he’s a really nice person underneath it all.”

“I know,” you reply.

“I think it’s time for me to get going,” you tell your friends after a while. It looks like you’ll miss seeing Jisung dancing, but you don’t think that will upset him.

Nari shoots you the brightest grin.

“Yeah, get that dick,” she says, making you choke on the drink you were trying to finish before leaving. She bursts out laughing at the sight before patting your arm. “You have fun, alright? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” A beat. “Don’t do most things I would do either.”

“I won’t,” you say, getting up and grabbing your purse.

“No seriously, enjoy yourself, okay? You deserve it.”

She’s looking up at you with wide, worried eyes, and though you know it’s the alcohol that makes her emotional, she looks particularly sweet in that moment and you can’t help but smile at her.

“Thanks, Nari. I’ll do my best.”

“If he does anything you don’t like I’ll find him and I’ll cut his dick off,” Daeun adds casually.

You walk off laughing. You noticed Minho leaving his spot behind the bar a few minutes ago, though not without looking in your direction. Despite Daeun’s final warning, there are only butterflies in your stomach as you exit the bar.

“Do you have to go back?” Minho asks when, later in the night, when everyone’s done eating, you start to get up.

“Oh, yeah, I have work in the morning, it’s probably better if I don’t stick around too long,” you answer, a half-truth that doesn’t take into account the fact that all of this social interaction has completely exhausted you.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, following suit.

“You don’t— You don’t have to, I— It’s just a few flight of stairs.”

There’s a smile forming on your face, and you can’t quite figure out whether it’s because it’s an amusing thought that he’d even offer, or because he did offer. He shakes his head.

“Ah, the switch doesn’t work for the last floor anymore and I haven’t been able to get anyone to look into it. I’m used to it, so.”

“Sure. Thank you,” you add, quietly, after a few seconds.

He just nods, a little woodenly — and then he very gently places his hand on your waist as you take your first few steps in the dark.

As you make your way down in the dark, you become all too aware of the wooden scent of his presence radiating next to you, of the wooden scent of his body wash.

“Careful there,” he warns, “one of the steps is missing a chunk and you could slip.” His voice is low, and it feels like it echoes through the stairwell and through your body.

“Alright,” you whisper back, though you couldn’t say why. Hesitantly, you reach to grab onto his shoulder. You expect to feel him tensing up, but he doesn’t. If anything, his hold on your waist gets a little firmer.

“Afraid of the dark?” he asks.

“Not really, but I am afraid of tripping and falling.”

A chuckle comes from him.

“I won’t let you,” he promises.

Unfortunately, there’s only twenty steps before your hand finds the door to the floor underneath.

“Looks like that’s me,” you say, as you open it.

“I could always take the elevator down to your floor with you,” he offers. He’s leaning towards you a little, and you can barely hear him over the sound of your heart.

You want to kiss him, you realize, eyes travelling down to his lips despite your better judgment.

You also know you would never dare to.

“Goodnight, Minho,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You find that he’s frozen in spot, eyes looking darker than usual, devouring you. Your stomach jumps.

He leans forward.

You hear him, vaguely, echo “yeah, goodnight,” before his eyes close and his lips press against yours. You’re standing completely still, hands gripping your purse tightly. His lips are soft. Gentle.

Finally, you allow your eyes to flutter shut as well, and you let yourself lean into the kiss.

You’ve thought a lot about getting kissed, about what it would feel like. ‘It’s wet,’ one of your high school friends had told you with a shrug, eliciting laughter from other girls.

That’s not the word you would use to describe that kiss.

You would think of the way Minho’s lips seem to mold against yours, about the soft noise that comes from him kissing you again, about the way he tilts his head and how his nose brushes against your cheek, about how soft he is, about the hand that grabs your shoulder like a lifeline, about how he steps forward hesitantly, still kissing you, about how the skin at the back of his neck feels when you wrap an arm around him, unsure, and gingerly caress it, from the tip of your fingers. You would think about the little groan that comes from him when you do, about how he squeezes your arm a little too hard then lets go, then steps closer again, even though there’s not much space left between the two of you. You would think about the moment when you open your eyes, briefly, and see how lost in the kiss he looks. You would think about the heat that pools in your stomach, about the way your lips part and about how his tongue brushes against yours, and about how your whole world seems to be contained in this one moment, in the space where your bodies touch each other. You would think about how out of breath you find yourself being when he steps away, about how his eyes slowly open, about the grin on his face, like the cat that ate the cream.

“Goodnight,” he says again, a corner of his lips higher than the other. His breathing is heavy too.

“Goodnight,” you squeak. “I’ll— see you around?”

“I sure hope so,” he replies, looking immensely satisfied when you get flustered.

For once, you cannot say that you’re particularly happy when you find yourself alone in your apartment.

Minho comes out just a few minutes after you, hand aggressively running through his hair as he tries to get them back to their usual state.

“It looks good,” you comment when he gets to your level. You’re unable to raise your voice much, too nervous to do that, too worried you’re reading wrong into this situation, too scared you’ll embarrass yourself.

“That’s not gonna last,” he says gloomily, then smiles when he notices the way your eyebrows knit. “Helmet’s probably going to destroy that. You’ve ever been on a motorbike before?”

“Yeah, my brother has one,” you nod, maybe a little too eager to prove yourself. You don’t mention the fact that the last time he took you for a ride was when you were in high school and that the model he had was cheap and, uh, skinny-looking, compared to the monster Minho’s flaunting.

Still, you bravely take the helmet he hands you, and at least try your best not to show any hesitation when you climb after him.

“Hold tight,” he says over his shoulder once you’re there, and you do. You just take one quick breath before wrapping your arms around his waist, trying your best to position your head against his shoulder so the helmet doesn’t get in the way too much. You feel his broad back under the leather jacket he’s wearing, his muscular thighs pressed against yours. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart thunders against him. The thought would usually make you feel ashamed, because the idea of someone knowing how you feel about them is terrifying to you. Tonight, though, you’ve decided to be daring.

The city flashes by you as Minho drives. Cars, people, so many lives stacked one on top of the other, and the two of you in the middle of it all.

You’re feeling shaky on your legs when he stops, tripping over your feet as you try to get off. His hand immediately shoots out, wrapping around you to help stabilizing you.

“You okay?” he asks, voice softer like anytime he’s worried. His eyes seem half-closed, like cats’ eyes when they’re with someone they like. His hair, it’s true, have seen better days, but you think it’s cute.

You want to kiss him.

Slowly, not closing your eyes in case you miss his reaction, miss seing him pulling away or looking displeased, you lean in.

He closes his eyes first.

The kiss is soft. One of his hand comes up to cup your face, fingers trace your jaw, his tongue is warm, and even in the cool night, you feel electrified.

There aren’t many words exchanged when he guides you into the building, just a brief question about whether you wish to go to your place or his — you choose his. He kisses you again in the elevator, harder this time, pressing you against a wall. Your head’s spinning with the way his body feels against you, and you let out a whimper when he moves his thigh between your legs. It takes everything in you not to roll your hips against him, and from the way you feel him smirk against your lips, you’d bet he knows that.

“Camera,” you whisper into him, glancing up at the little device on the corner.

Minho looks over his shoulder and clicks his tongue in annoyance. Next thing you know, he has one arm on the wall by your face, effectively caging you against it, but also shielding you from it.

“Better?”

The giggle that escapes you barely feels like you, but to be fair, everything that’s happening to you right now doesn’t feel like you, because it’s all so new. The heat that runs through your veins when Minho presses open-mouth kisses to your jaw, forcing out tiny, quiet gasps that fill the air, would almost be enough to make you forget the fact that you don’t really know what you're doing. You think he can tell, from the way your hands fumble, unsure whether to grab onto his shoulders, his jacket, to run over his body, to wrap around his neck to play with his hair.

“Wait,” you manage to say, “wait, I—”

In a second, the heat's gone, concerned expression staring at you instead.

“Everything alright?”

You don't know for sure why you don't tell him then. Maybe it’s because you’re a little bit ashamed, against your better judgment, of your total absence of experience. You don’t want to be, you know you have no reason to, but you just— you don’t want him to think differently of you, don’t want to interrupt the moment. You also don’t want him to think you’re seeing this as more than it is. So, instead of that, you opt for “I just— I don’t have a lot of experience. I’m— I don’t usually do…” You almost gesture at the two of you, but close your hand at the last second. “…this.”

It’s not a lie. It’s also not quite the truth.

“Oh,” Minho says. “It’s fine. We can take it slow, if you’d like?”

There’s that hunger in his eyes again that makes you melt, that makes you feel wanted. You suspect that you’re looking at him exactly the same way.

“I’d like that,” you answer.

It’s only then that he bridges the distance he left between the two of you, for just one more kiss before the elevator doors open.

He holds on to your hand tightly as he guides you up the stairs, still in the dark, only letting go to unlock his door. He’s kissing you again when he walks into the room, backwards, both fever and restraint in the way his fingers grip your waist with bruising force. You put your arm around his neck, bringing your body close to his, and you feel him groan into you when your chest presses against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “the bed’s right there, just—”

It’s Doongie’s indignant protest that interrupts you.

“Shit!”

Finally, Minho turns on a light, and you’re greeted with three pairs of accusatory eyes.

“Give me a minute, I’ll—”

The rest of his sentence is lost as he tries — and fails — to shoo them into what you assume is the bathroom.

You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him try to clear the room for the two of you. The layout’s simple, with the kitchen by the entrance, and the small living room with a couch as the central piece, and the table you’d all dined on a few weeks ago propped against the wall. On the right, there’s a minuscule bathroom, and on the left, the direction Minho was pulling you in, there’s the bedroom, which pretty much only consists of a king size bed. A king size bed on which Doongie’s currently laying, tail swooshing around with annoyance.

Minho shoos him away, still trying to get the cats in the bathroom, and you sit down on the bed, grinning. Even if you’ve been interrupted, the sight of all of that happening makes you feel— comfortable. Sure, it leaves you with a little too much space to think about what you’re supposed to do now — should you take off you clothes? Should you take some kind of alluring pose? Are you capable of taking an alluring pose? —, but it also reminds you of how much you like Minho, instead of just how much you want him.

“Done,” he sighs after a few seconds, sliding the bathroom door close.

Before stopping right where he stands, staring at you, eyes wide and bulging a little. Unable to come to a clear decision, you’ve only slid the straps from your dress down on your arms, allowing it to fall down enough to reveal your bra and the skin of the upper part of your stomach. You’re also watching him carefully, though the appreciative way he takes in your body makes you feel a little more comfortable.

“Join me?” you ask, your attempt to sound confident and sexy coming out more squeaky than you would have liked.

He nods, still staring, and you see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. Finally, he starts walking towards you. You bite the inside of your cheek as he gets closer, leaning back on the bed, unsure whether your heart is beating this fast from nervousness or from anticipation, unsure whether you’re terrified or excited. Either way, you’ve decided that this is your night. Getting to spend this moment to someone who you’re genuinely attracted to, who you trust, and who seems to want you as well, that might be as good as you’re gonna get. You don’t want to let anything get in the way of that.

Still, your lips part and your breath quickens when he slowly lowers himself to your level, placing one of his knees next to you on the bed while his hand cups your face. His mouth is warm against yours, his movements slower than before, and you’re not sure why, but the wet sounds that echo in the room make heat pool between your legs. You’re the one bringing more urgency into it when you pull him closer, until he’s laying on top of you, one of his hands roughly groping your thigh, your ass, before Minho seems to remember he needs to take it slow.

The hand makes its way under your dress, and you shiver. Being touched in such places by another person is a completely new feeling for you. You’d feared it would be invasive, but you find that it’s not, though perhaps that has to do with Minho himself, with how badly you wanted this. His fingers trail pure heat over your skin, body arching in an attempt to follow his caresses. When they hook your panties, starting to pull them down, you whimper ever so slightly against his mouth.

“Everything okay?” he asks. You take some satisfaction in finding that his breathing is ragged. From this close distance, you can tell his pupil apart from his dark eyes, and you discover that it’s dilated. His cheeks and ears have reddened, too, and now that your entire brain isn’t focused on the sensations his touch brings to you, you think you can feel him hard against your thigh.

“All good,” you say, more out of breath than he is. “All… all very good.” You don’t know what to add to that, if you’re supposed to add something.

“Tell me if there’s a problem,” he breathes, lips just brushing against yours this time. His voice is soft. The moment feels deeply intimate, and yet there’s a nagging fear in your stomach. You’d hate to see more in this than actually is present, hate to get your hopes up. Humiliation is easily what you’re most scared of right now.

“I will,” you promise.

There’s something surprisingly gentle, coming from him, in the way he starts to leave kisses down your jaw, then your neck. There’s one spot he lingers on, one spot that makes you squirm and whimper in a way that you find embarrassing, but that he seems delighted with, if the smile you feel against your skin is any indication. He gets rid of your dress just as slowly, before reaching behind you to open your bra.

“Would you— would you mind if we turned off the light?” you ask just as it comes undone. It’s not so much that you’re ashamed of your body or don’t want him to see it, but the harsh, white light just feels like it casts an unflattering glow on what is happening here. Makes everything feel cold and ugly, and while you think the light probably makes everything honest as well, just for tonight, you’d like to let yourself believe something else.

Minho just has to reach out to turn it off, with how small the room is, and that prompts a brief chuckle, shared between the two of you. The moonlight comes in through the windows, and it’s more than enough to tell what’s happening, but everything’s silhouetted, allowing you to fill in the gaps and letting fantasy seep into the moment.

With a regain of confidence, you sit back up, starting to unbutton Minho’s shirt. Your lips ghost against his, pulling away when he leans forward to kiss you back, and you just have the time to hear his laugh before you allow the kiss and it disappears in the moment. The shirt is soon discarded, allowing you to feel his skin against yours. His body feels harder than yours, taut muscles under your fingers, but you love the way he groans against your mouth when you brush against his nipples. If you were surer of yourself, you feel that that’s something you’d love to explore. Right now, though, you’re happy to let him take control again.

He kisses down your body, pressing kisses between your breasts. One of his hands flicks against your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you. He doesn’t linger there though, intent on making his way further down. His kisses remain soft, never too insistent, and his hands on either side of your body help you remain grounded, even as you fist the sheets, trying not to squirm too much. Soon, he’s kneeling between your legs, not giving you any chance to feel the friction you’re so desperate for right now.

“Still okay?” he asks, and it’s very hard for you to keep the annoyance out of your voice when you reply that yes, you’re fine, and could he please just do something now.

There’s another chuckle, and then he moves aside to slide your drenched panties down your legs. Your cheeks are burning when you feel his breath between your legs. He starts by kissing the inside of your thigh, and you press your lips tightly together, just waiting for what’s to come next. There’s nothing you can do to contain the loud moan that escapes you when, finally, Minho’s mouth closes around your clitoris. The pleasure is like nothing you’ve ever felt with your hand or toys, and you can’t help the way your legs close around him.

It doesn’t seem to faze him, though, one hand grabbing your thigh for support while he keeps his head down. As you’re still trying to gather yourself in any way, with one hand pressed to your mouth so you don’t become too loud, you feel him push a finger into you. It slides in easily from how wet you are, and you hear yourself mewl when he adds another finger, then a third, slowly spreading you open. It feels nothing like it does when you’re the one doing it. All this time, his mouth is still latched onto your clit, tongue working its magic against it.

It’s not long until you feel the orgasm approaching, rolling onto you faster than it ever has before. You try to hold it at bay, wanting to enjoy the delicious sensations longer, but it’s all so much, too much, and soon you’re coming with a loud cry, thighs spasming around Minho’s head. His fingers move rhythmically into you, allowing you to ride the wave a little longer, and eventually you’re back on Earth, panting desperately, feeling drunk though you haven’t had a drop of alcohol.

“Still good?” Minho asks, and you discover a smug grin on his face when he glances up at you.

“Still good,” you reply, not having enough energy to roll your eyes at him, especially not when he is the one who’s just made you feel like that.

His hands don’t leave your hips when he lies down by your side. His thumb traces circles over your skin, and despite the mind-shattering orgasm he’s just given you, it doesn’t take long until you’re burning for him all over again.

Experimentally, you shift your leg against his hard cock, only to be almost immediately rewarded by a hiss and a jerk of his hips to chase the friction.

“Ready for another round?” he asks you. It’s a half-growl, and you can’t help but grin. Knowing that you’re affecting him that much is electrifying.

“Yeah, just… slow,” you say. “I’m— Um—” You stumble on your choice of words. It’s not like you’ve never had anything inside you, you’ve used toys before, but this feels completely different.

“Want to be on top?” Minho asks softly, surprising you once more with how considerate and thoughtful he’s being. “Then you can pick your own rhythm.”

“That’d be— That’d be great, actually,” you say. “Do you— Do you have a condom?”

“Sure, just give me a second. You’re clean, by the way, right?”

You hum in answer as he stretches to get a condom out of his night table. He tears it open with his teeth. You’re pretty sure he’s just showing off, but you do find it kind of hot, so you suppose you can let it slide.

He’s just reaching down to undo his belt when you interrupt him, starting to do it instead. Your hand brushes against the tent in his pants and he lets out a curse through gritted teeth. You pull back to let him shake off the pants, then soon the boxers, and watch as he rolls on the condom expertly. You try not to look too interested, though you are a bit curious about the process.

After that, there are a few awkward seconds needed to get into position, though the tension dissolves in giggles quickly as you straddle him. You roll your hips once against his rock hard cock, pressed against your wet slit. It twitches against you, and Minho hisses.

“Fuck you’re a tease.”

The comment makes you smirk and you lean in to press one more kiss to his lips, nipples brushing against his chest as you do so. Then you push yourself back up, one hand on his chest for support, while his hold on to your hips with a gentle grip.

“Take your time.”

You roll your lips together, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock and he groans, throwing his head back in his pillow. Even under the moonlight, you can see his eyes closing in pleasure, and you can’t help but find it incredibly erotic. It gives you the confidence you need to guide it against your entrance, then slowly start lowering your hips. The stretch causes a moan to rise from your throat, even though you keep your mouth shut.

Then another, as you get Minho deeper inside of you, and finally your mouth falls open and it’s a recital of small, high-pitched whimpers. The whole time, though you’re not aware of it, eyes tightly shut, Minho’s eyes are on you, devouring the sight you’re giving him. The way your chest rises and falls as your breathing quickens, the way you throw your head back, the way you try to suppress your moans at first before giving up.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, and you open your eyes.

You haven’t moved yet, hips just stuttering involuntarily and sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time.

“Y-you think so?” you ask, and a bit of the facade you’ve tried to put on so far falls.

Minho sits up, one hand closing around your thigh while the other comes on the small of your back. He kisses you messily, linking your mouths and tongues while his hips start a slow rhythm under you. You dissolve into him, almost desperately wrapping your arms around his neck, moans immediately swallowed between the two of you.

“So, so fucking hot,” he breathes as his pace starts picking up. “Wanna, ah, wanna lie down again? I’ll take care of it now.”

There’s so much warmth in his voice, so much care that you almost want to protest, want to tell him not to do that when you don’t think this night means that much to him. Yet you’re also grateful for it, grateful for how good he’s making all of this for you, grateful for him making this night unforgettable to you in more ways than one.

He guides you back down, kisses you once more, and then the grip on your hips becomes bruising, and he starts going faster. Vaguely, you get the feeling that he’s holding back, even as small grunts come from him at every thrust. From the way his eyes watch you, it seems he takes just as much pleasure in watching you fall apart apart, as he does from the way your bodies are joined together. You can’t give it much thought, though, too lost in the pleasure, and when he brings one hand down between your legs to rub your clit, you cry out, loosing the ability for any coherent thought on the spot. The orgasm hits without a warning, without the familiar build you’re used to, and your hips move desperately in an attempt to prolong the heavenly feeling just a little bit more.

It’s then that the rhythm picks up once more, thrusts deeper this time, as Minho starts chasing his own high. You think he comes a few seconds after you, based on the loud moan he lets out then, though it could be longer, because your notion of time is not very precise at that point.

Then he collapses, slowly pulling out of you to roll onto his back. He’s panting, and when you glance at him, he shoots you his signature grin.

“Pretty good, huh?”

Of course he’d brag about it.

“Decent,” you hear yourself reply with a smile in return. “Not that bad.”

It makes him laugh, and for a few moments, the two of you just lie there, and it’s good and comfortable and nice and you could just stay there, in his bed, with his hand soft and comforting on your hip, for hours.

But finally, he sits up and stretches his arms.

“I’m gonna wash up,” he says. “D’you want to use the bathroom before going back to your place?”

You blink. And then it hits you. You’ve seen it in movies, you’ve heard your friends talk about it, usually preceded by the sentence ‘you’ll never guess what that fucking asshole told me after it’. Not only is he not letting you stay the night, but he’s basically kicking you out. It’s not— It’s not like you’d been particularly intent on staying, you would probably have booked it after regaining control of your brain — and once your anxiety would have kicked in again — but it makes ice fill your veins.

Right. You shouldn’t get carried away.

Fuck, you should never get carried away.

“Yeah, I’ll just use it quick, if you don’t mind,” you say, gathering your clothes, and you hate how your voice changes, how it becomes softer and higher. You just tell yourself that he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to tell what’s happening, and you cling to that thought with everything you have.

There’s a limp in your step when you get up, but you push through it. The cats escape when you open the door, and, for once, you don’t take the time to greet them, in too much of a hurry to get out, get the fuck out of here. Inside, you throw your dress back on, stuff your bra in your bag, pee, grimace at your ruined panties but ultimately put them on, slip your feet in your shoes, then step out. It probably takes you a minute and a half.

“You can take a shower if you want,” Minho says, but this time the attention makes you want to slap him.

“I’m good,” you say instead of literally anything else, “I’ll just take it at home. It’s not like it’s that far.”

He nods.

“You work early tomorrow, right?”

“I do, so, I, uh, should probably get going.”

You open the door, step out in the fresh air of the night, and there, you find yourself softening a little. You can’t help but think that you’re getting upset in part because you let yourself get too emotional, too involved in this. So you turn back to give him a little smile.

“I, uh, I had a really good time,” you say, tilting your head in the direction of the bedroom.

You half expected him to brag, but instead he looks down, and you guess more than you see the smile that forms on his lips.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Well, uh—” You hesitate. For a second, ‘I’ll see you around’ is on your lips, but you’re too wrapped up in the fear that he’ll get the wrong impression, or worst, that he’ll get the right one and think you want something more with him, too terrified that he’ll hate that idea. “Goodnight,” you say instead.”

“Goodnight.”

Then you close the door and make your way through the roof and down the stairs. You don’t know how you expected to feel, after finally getting to experience something you’ve craved for so long. Different, that’s for sure. But, even though the last note of the night feels so discordant, you still take away Minho’s warmth, the feeling of his lips of your skin, the adoring glow of his eyes when he looked up at you.

And you’re convinced that you’re better off for that.

when he sees me — Waitress

Might be part one of three! But considering how my writing process has been going these days, I can’t promise anything unfortunately.

#lee know x reader #minho x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids #lee know #lee know fanfic #stray kids fanfic #lee know smut

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mvrtaiswriting · 1 year

Note

Hi there! May I please request some headcanons of Zoro and what he looks for in a s/o, as well as any fluffy romantic headcanons of him with his s/o, please? Thank you so much for your time! Take it easy.

Love potion - how to win Zoro's heart.

Hi! Thank you so much for trusting me with your request! I enjoyed writing this, Zoro has a special place in my heart. I hope this meets your expectations, my writing is a bit rusty at the moment due to all the uni work i'm doing and this is just what i needed to get back on track! I hope it makes you smile :) x

warnings: none! super fluff. gn! reader.

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

Curiosity starts tickling his brain when he notices his usual intimidating demeanour doesn't work on you; if anything, you find it funny. He notices how you laugh when you catch him and Sanji bickering, even if he is threatening to slice the poor love cook into julienne strips. And he likes it more than he would ever admit.

The key to Zoro's feelings lie within his struggles. The main way to gain Zoro's respect is by being a fighter - and sometimes, this just means beating him at his own game, defeating his small god complex. This can often involve sarcastic remarks in response to his venomous teasing, showing him you can fight well enough to knock him down during a training session. Zoro always recognises the abilities of his opponents - so once you tame his ego and demonstrate that you are just as formidable as he is, he will gladly welcome you into his heart (secretly).

Zoro falls in love when he realises you aren't too different from him. There is a sense of familiarity to you that mesmerises Zoro every time. He wasn't sure why - he didn't know if it was his influence or just some innate traits you had. A calming sensation washes all over him whenever he notices that your movements effortlessly mirror his. It makes him feel understood.

Everyone can tell that the swordsman is in love when he enjoys your company during moments he usually prefers to spend alone. He shares his silence with you, a solemn confession of what he truly feels. You're the only one who he allows close to him.

Once in an established relationship, it takes a while for Zoro to fully adjust to it. At first, he feels like nothing has changed, really - he feels just as jealous, just as protective. The butterflies haven't left his stomach since the first time he saw you smile - they're still flying around, batting their wings together and making him visibly blush.

Zoro is not really fond of PDA - that doesn't mean he isn't affectionate, he just prefers to keep it private, discrete. When you're walking around, exploring a new island, he doesn't mind holding your hand - although, most of the time, he only intertwines his pinky with yours, nothing more. However, he likes it when you sit on his lap; so much, it's something you can't escape. As soon as you reach the dining table, his hands are quick to wrap around your waist, slowly guiding your body and eventually making you fall onto his lap. It makes food much more enjoyable this way - even sake tastes better, according to him.

Zoro is a great listener, and he has a peculiar attention to detail. He remembers everything you told him, from the silliest childhood story to the most meaningful thought you shared with him - he treasures your memories so dearly, he almost carves them into his mind. Because of that, he showers you with gifts on a regular basis. Whether it's a piece of clothing or a diamond, if you made a comment about it, he will get it for you and casually leave it on your bedside table, nicely wrapped. He doesn't make a big deal out of it, he just loves the look on your face when he manages to surprise you. There's nothing Zoro wouldn't do to make you happy.

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wint3r-h3art · 1 year

Note

“why can’t you open up to me?”

“why do you want me to?”

Pairing: Namor x Asian Mutant!Reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: None. Just ANGST!! two idiots in love tropes, but they're too stubborn to say anything. A lot of musing thoughts on both ends.

a/n: Thank you so much for sending this in, Alice 💛 The gif really did it for me 😭 This will be like an excerpt from my mini-series, "And I Return to Nothingness...". The details of what is mentioned here will be explained in greater detail in the mini-series. Reblog & comments are greatly appreciated if you are interested in the series. It only helps me write more stuff for you to enjoy.

Do not copy, repost and claim it as your own, or translated my works!!

There was no amount of high council that could remedy his predicament right now.

His mind wandered, wavered between the need and the want. For centuries, he was used to having answers to every possible obstacle, but at this exact moment, he couldn’t come up with any type of solution that would ease his mind. So he sought solace in the underwater cave–the only place where he could be in his own thoughts.

After you crashed here months ago, a deal was made with the Talokanil leader. In exchange for your refuge from the world government, you must assist him in whatever his people need, whether using your power to help shield the surface dweller away from discovering his world or using your healing ability to help those who were wounded. Even as if they were superhuman themselves, their healing ability was no match for whatever was flowing in your veins.

Ku'ku'lkán had made it clear that the only reason he kept you here was to prevent you from exposing his world to your world. But you knew–you knew too well that he needed you as much as you needed him.

Being a hydrokinetic mutant, you were more than capable of destruction, but you–you were no ordinary water-wielding mutant. No, your ability was beyond anyone’s comprehension. Anyone that witnessed a fraction of what you can do, fears you. Coupled with your cellular regeneration ability, you were practically immortal, which made every one of those world governments seek you. They needed you, and they wanted to control you. This was why you ran–ran away as far as your feet could drag you; ran until it was your last breath.

Only for you to land here, and become his willing prisoner. At what cost though…perhaps being here was much better than being in the perpetual torment of being experimented on over and over again as they seek answers to your power.

Ku'ku'lkán could sense your unyielding gaze as he painted. He could feel the way your eyes followed the paintbrush glided across the cool cavern wall. Your footsteps had always been light, and he had learned to listen to the subtle echoes within the cave whenever you were walking around or pacing. And that moment, he could hear your steady breathing as you watched, perhaps in awe.

A part of his heart wanted you to say something–a comment, or perhaps a praise from you, but why? He didn’t know, or at least he didn’t want to know.

You see, there was a small fear that he didn’t like to acknowledge. Perhaps it was his pride, or perhaps it was his stubbornness, but whatever it was, it was holding his feelings hostage to the point where he didn’t know how to deal with it.

This strange longing to be gazed upon and admired by you was eating away at his inside, and he didn’t know how to deal with it–with you. He thought that painting whatever he was feeling would remedy that, but of course, he was wrong when you uttered the words out loud.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

His heart dropped in the pit of his stomach as the heat slowly flooded his face. A rush of adrenaline flowed in his veins as he halted his movement. His hand was in mid-brush stroke. He could feel himself trembling at your words as he took a step back and observed his works. He had been so caught up in his mixed emotions that he didn’t realize what he had done.

On the wall was an image of a woman cradling what looks like water in between her palms. It could be anyone if it wasn’t the distinct scar that only one person bore. He could have left that details out if he wanted to be subtle, but damn his wandering mind. And now you would know, and you would look at him differently–perhaps you would mock him, taunting him of whatever his confused heart was feeling at the moment.

Ku'ku'lkán’s throat was bone dry when he turned, dropping the paintbrush right onto the water jar. He watched the way your eyes glimmered slightly underneath the blue glow of the light in the cave.

“Do you want it to be you?” he asked, trying to cover his own track. Damn his pride, and damn the universe for bringing you to him. Because of you, he had not been able to think straight.

“Just kidding. I wouldn’t dare to assume it’s me,” you let out a dry chuckle. He watched the way you were rubbing your arm out of discomfort, or perhaps awkwardness. “I just thought I would ask because I noticed the way she was holding the water… never mind. Forget what I just asked. It’s very beautiful…”

You didn’t mention anything about the three circles that were on the women’s necks of course. You didn’t dare to dream that the king would even think of you enough to paint a mural of you. No. The circles may have been jewelry of some sort. Perhaps he painted the past lover that he had lost…perhaps. Yes, perhaps, you thought. You were thinking too much about that one kiss, and now your mind was all over the place. Looking at him now made you flustered more than ever before.

“You must think of her a lot….”

“It’s just an image. There’s nothing special about it.”

Ku'ku'lkán watched the way your lips pressed into a thin line. His words might have been harsh, but he wouldn’t think you would feel anything by it.

“If it weren’t special, you wouldn’t spend this much time painting her…surely, she’s someone important to you–”

“Do you always ask questions on things that don't concern you?”

The words came out harsher than he intended, and he watched the way your expression slowly crumbled right before his eyes. He cussed at himself mentally.

“I said I was kidding. Plus, I thought we were way past this whole distrust thing,” you said softly, sounding like a wounded animal.

“And why is that?”

You wanted to bring up the night when he brought you to the beach, where you opened up to him about your past, and how you came to be hunted down by everyone. You thought at that moment he shared an unspoken bond. After all, you were also the first mutant of your kind and were also revered as a goddess by your people as well before the colonizers destroyed your world. You wanted to bring up the kiss, but your throat went dry the more you stood there, feeling like you were being played by him.

“I told you about my past. I even confided in you about my fears. Why can’t you open up to me?

“Why do you want me to open up to you? ”

“Because—” you frowned, unable to find words that would sort out this situation. You looked at the Talokanil king. His expression was still hard and unyielding. What the hell were you going to say to him?

“Because what?” He pressed again. In the back of his mind, he was hoping for you to say something. His lips were still tingled from the kiss that you shared that night, yet…he felt more guarded than ever before. What if you were using him? What if you didn’t feel the same way?

“You know what. Just forget it. Just forget everything I’ve ever told you,” you finally said as you turned away, trying to hide the tears that were definitely falling down your face now. “I’m just going to stay here and pay my due. Perhaps one of these days if I get you pissed off enough, you can just kill me off.”

Namor could see frost slowly forming on your hands, and at that moment he wanted to take your hand in his–to say something to you, but he was way too proud to admit it. And now he had to endure the harsh reality that he indeed had fucked this up incredibly.

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor x asian!reader #kukulkan x reader #kukulkan x you #k'uk'ulkan #mcu namor #k'uk'ulkan x reader #k'uk'ulkan x you #k'uk'ulkan x asian!reader #namor angst #namor fanfiction

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floydsmuse · 7 months

Text

The Risky library visit

warnings: 18+ only, mdni!, spanking, smut, p in v, explicit language

pairing: Rhett Abbott x f! librarian reader (no y/n)

description: you let Rhett full-fill a sexual fantasy with you at the library. (wc 2k+)

a/n: hi ! so this is my first fic i’ve written for this account. i really hope you enjoy it :) i definitely plan on writing more fics & possibly posting some of my edits on here too, so hopefully you’ll stick around for that. likes & comments are great! reblogs are appreciated too 🥰💕 tysm!

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working at the only local library in a town like rural Wabang was nothing short of boring. not many people came in on most days. the only times it became super busy were on the hottest days of the year during the summer months. patrons would come in to take a load off & enjoy the ac. you couldn’t say you blamed them there.

you grew up in this small town & started working as a part-time librarian earlier this year. you didn’t completely dislike it. you enjoyed the small camaraderie between your coworkers & the shared interactions you had with patrons that would come in from time to time during your shifts.

what you loved most about your job though was when your boyfriend would come in to visit you. Rhett Abbott. your tall, handsome, rough & toughened cowboy who you just adored. you two had met a few months back, when you first started working as a librarian. he’d occasionally come in with his niece Amy to find books. shared glances & light convos with flirty remarks on both ends was how it started, to Rhett then finally deciding to make a move & ask you out. you of course said yes & you two officially became an item.

when Rhett wasn’t at his family’s ranch helping out Royal or attending to the animals, he would come in to keep you company and make the work days go by faster. whether that be through light conversations on random subjects or having heated make out sessions in the back office. once you two were in each others company, a lot of the time, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You absolutely loved your shared intimate moments with Rhett. He always puts your needs first & that’s something you really loved about him. he was up for anything & really put your pleasure at the forefront. you always made sure to return the favor and made Rhett’s pleasure a priority too. you two were a match made in heaven.

On this particular day, however, Rhett had a plan. he dreamed of full-filling a role playing type fantasy with you at the library. you the librarian of course & him a patron who comes in to bang the living daylights out of you in the back office. He had talked to you about it prior, to make sure you were on board. your past self before meeting Rhett would’ve been hesitant and refusing of the idea of being intimate especially at work, in such a public setting. yeah not many people came by, but there was still the potential of possibly getting caught. but Rhett had brought out a whole new side of you during the course of your relationship. you had become more bold & willing to take risks, so you willingly agreed to his plan.

you waited until you knew your other fellow librarian & coworker would be off to lunch. you texted Rhett the okay to come by, only knowing you had about an hour to fulfill this sexual fantasy. Rhett texted back almost instantly saying that he was just finishing up on something & that he’d be there in 10. you were starting to feel a bit on edge, bubbling up inside but excited to say the least. you couldn’t believe you really were going to be doing this with your lover.

10 minutes felt like 10 hours. you were so eagerly awaiting his arrival. Only a single person came in to pick up a book & stopped to make quick conversation with you. you barely listened to what they had to say, too distracted by the heat creepily forming in between your legs at the thought of Rhett & what he had planned.

finally, you hear the sound of the main door open & shut abruptly. you knew it was him, just by his heavy footsteps approaching in your direction. before Rhett could acknowledge you though, he went over to the bookshelves & perused the isles. you weren’t quite sure what he was doing or what he was looking for, but you assumed it had to do with this “fantasy” of his. Rhett must have a surprise up his sleeve you thought to yourself.

before you could even try to get his attention, he was approaching you now. he had a book locked under his arm. his eyes weren’t those bright blue ones you’d grown so fond & familiar of. they were instead dark like the skies of a stormy night & so full of lust. you could feel your heartbeat start to quicken, the heat between your legs had grown into a burning sensation now, feeling like a fire had started down there. a slick wetness started forming there too, just at the very sight of him. he looked hungry for you & ready to pounce, but he wanted to take it slow. he wanted to savor this moment with you.

he approached you at your desk, not breaking a single once of eye contact. your cheeks were starting to heat up now. he looked rugged, with his long sleeved flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows & the veins on his toned arms were protruding out. he was wearing his infamous wranglers & you couldn’t help but take a peak at his growing erection. his hair was tousled & he had foregone to wear his hat today, which surprised you. he must have been so busy, he didn’t think to put it on. clearing his throat & pulling you from your thoughts. he began to speak,

“i uh wanted to see if you had another copy of this book ere.’ the front cover is starting to wear off. “

he started to hand the book over to you. you’d now fallen into character & took it from him, examining it. the book cover did have some wear & tear, but nothing too crazy.

“Oh, well we might have another copy in the back. if you just wait right here sir, i’ll go look for you.” you were shocked at yourself for being able to get the words out coherently, being flustered as ever in this moment. you were sure that you most definitely heard Rhett let out a slight grunt at your usage of sir. either way he nodded & you headed over to the back office.

you stepped into the room, looking around for another “copy” of the book that he had wanted. you were turned away from the door, not hearing anything but silence for a few seconds. then suddenly you started to hear those heavy footsteps yet again & next thing you knew, you can feel Rhett’s hot breath against your neck while his whole frame pushed against your back. you could feel his hard demon clad length pressed against your ass, his big hands envelop your waist and lovingly squeeze there. his nimble fingers start to slowly travel up your sides.

you almost start to lose your role in this. too distracted by Rhett snarling in your ear and feeling his hard cock just waiting to break free from the clutches of his wranglers. he gently brushes your hair back from where it lies on your shoulders & begins placing open mouthed kisses along your neck.

“sir.. aghhh what on you doing?!.. stop.” you manage to weakly squeak out. pretending to resist his touches & acting like you don’t want what he’s doing to you to continue. Rhett’s hands of course don’t let up. they start to travel up past your belly and stop to squeeze your tits through your blouse. you can feel his smirk against your skin & you can’t help but let your head fall back onto his shoulder out of habit.

you try to “break” away from his grasp, but you can’t as he continues to palm your breasts & pulls you even closer to his chest if that was even possible. he suddenly stops the assault on both your tits & neck, quickly turning you around to face him. he draws you in by your waist & lifts your chin up with his finger making you look at him. his eyes are completely blown out & black now. he looks like he’s ready to unravel you.

he then grumbles out a, “don’t try to resist it darlin’. i’m gonna make ya feel so damn good.”

next thing you know, in the blink of an eye you are bent over a desk. the side of your face is squished against the cold surface. the bottom of your skirt is folded over & your panties are down to your ankles. you now understand why Rhett held onto that book & what he planned on doing with it. before you could even think another second, you felt a hard smack against your ass. the immediate sting and painful pleasured sensation you were feeling caused you to let out a yelp. you could hear a slight chuckle leave Rhett’s lips, as he gives you a second to process the blow he just gave you.

“if it gets too much for ya sweetheart, just say the word.”

you let out a muffled okay and scooted your ass back further into him, implying that you wanted him to keep going. without hesitation Rhett grabbed the book again &…

smack!

another blow and then another. you were shaking with pleasure and you just knew Rhett was absolutely losing his mind over the little noises you were making. his cock was aching. so desperately needing to be submersed in you & he decided to give your spanking a rest.

he tossed the now battered up book off to the side, the cover completely coming off now and in the point of no return. no one would wanna read that book after knowing what it’s endured. you felt his hands start to rub soothingly over your bright red bottom. he leaned into you & pressed a gentle kiss right behind your ear.

“you did so good for me sweetheart. you took that like a real champ.”

you couldn’t help but let out a breathy giggle at that. your ass was still stinging a bit. a stream of slick was running down your legs and you knew that Rhett was going to combust, if he wasn’t inside of you soon. your words came out strained and quiet, but Rhett perked up at the three words that fell from your lips. “please fuck me.”

Rhett didn’t waste a single second. he gently flipped you over onto your back, with your upper half lying still on the desk and your legs were brought up to wrap around his waist. you could hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, finally letting his cock free from its restraints.

without hesitation, Rhett pushed his plush tip through your soaked folds with ease. you couldn’t say that you’ve truly gotten used to his size. it’s not too much to handle by any means, but it elicits a really nice stretch and hits every spot just right.

you both let out a sigh at the sudden connection. Rhett being fully inside you now & feeling that familiar stretch of your walls has you letting out a soft moan.

“please Rhett move.” your voice was still a bit strained, but you were getting awfully impatient with him. you needed this now more than ever.

“jeez babe & to think i was the impatient one ere’. ” he smirked, accentuating the last word with that his strong southern drawl that drove you insane.

you lightly smacked his chest and he finally began to move. slowly at first just to let you get used to him, to that feeling you loved so much. your hands wrap around his neck as you tell him to move faster.

Rhett complies and starts rutting into you now, like a wild animal. sex with him was never dull, Rhett always had the energy and stamina to go as rough and go as many rounds with you as you desired.

your eyes roll into the back of your head, stars start lining your vision. you can hear Rhett letting out grunts and swears above you. his eyes squeezing shut, as he lets the ecstasy completely take over his body. you let out little whimpers, as your nails dig into his back never wanting to let go of him.

“you like that i’m taking you over this desk right now where anyone could just walk in on us?” he grunted. you couldn’t even let out a coherent sentence, instead letting out a mewl at his words.

“bet you feel so dirty don’t ya? letting me fuck the towns little librarian at her workplace.” you let out a light fuck at the choice of his words. it did feel dirty, but you didn’t care.

you thought about if someone were to walk in on you two in this intimate moment. it would surely be a sight for them to see you folded in half over a creeky old desk with your lover pumping deep inside of your cunt, both of you letting out the most obscure noises. the thought made you throw your head back and let out the most pathetic and desperate sound you’d ever made.

“aghh Rhett, baby i’m close.” your orgasm was approaching, as Rhett didn’t let up on his rhythm and you could hear the slight screeching of the wooden desk under you. this desk was surely old and you were shocked that it didn’t break under both of your weights.

“me too darlin’ just let go when you need to. i’m right behind ya.” he let out some more grunts and latched his mouth onto your chest, giving your tits the proper attention and coaxing you more towards your release. it worked as you dug your heels further into his back, dropping your head onto his shoulder & completely letting go. Rhett being right behind you.

both now coming down from your highs panting, Rhett lays against your chest to catch his breathe as you do the same still holding onto him for dear life with his cock now softening, still inside of you.

after a few seconds, Rhett slowly slipped out of you. he leaned forward and lightly placed a kiss onto your lips.

you both regained composure, Rhett helped lift you off of the desk, you legs feeling like jelly as you stood up right. you weren’t sure how you’d walk normal after this. you hoped your coworker wouldn’t notice. you stared over at the clock & starting rushing Rhett to get himself cleaned up as you did the same.

making sure everything in that office was spotless & showed no signs of your previous endeavors, Rhett bent down and grabbed the battered up book.

“i’m gonna keep this for next time. soon this book’ll be nothing but loose shreds of paper after i’m finished using it on you.”

with that, your cheeks burned a bright red & he placed a kiss on one of them as a goodbye and headed back out into the open library. you couldn’t wait to do this with Rhett again.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett x reader #outer range #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

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m-musings · 4 days

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Headcanons: The Arcana Characters Love Languages

A/N: probably gonna do this for all the fandoms i write for so expect a lot of the same stuff in the coming times. anywaysss enjoy! :)

Word Count: 761 Warnings/Other Notes: no warnings!

Asra:

Asra's love language is Gift Giving/ Receiving.

Anytime they're away from the shop, they always manage to find something that reminds them of you,

Whether it's a trinket of some sort or a food you may like, they're buying it as soon as they see it.

No matter what it is, there is always some thoughtfulness behind the gift that warms your heart.

And if you get them something in return? Asra's admiration of you grows tenfold.

if that gift is small enough, you can bet that they're bring it along with them on all of their travels. They love having something to remember you by when not physically with you.

Nadia:

Nadia's love language would be Acts of Service.

After running a country essentially by herself, she finds herself most comfortable when doing things for the people she cares about.

If you were to need anything, she would help you get it in anyway she could.

She has her servants run errands for you, she'll help you clean the magic shop, or she'll even cook your favorite meal for you.

Even if you insist that she doesn't have to go to those lengths, she'll sweetly reassure you that she enjoys doing those thing for you.

And she's eternally grateful when in exchange, you offer to take care of some of her own duties when she needs to take a day or two off.

Julian:

Julian's love language is definitely Words of Affirmation.

This man is so genuine and charming, even his casual comments can have you swooning into his arms.

If he notices you're feeling down or you've done something you're proud of, Julian is always sure to compliment you to raise your spirits.

Even if you're just lounging around on a comfy chair, he's quick to tell you how much he loves you.

You just mean so much to him, it's hard for him to keep his thoughts to himself when he's near you.

And when he's silently dealing with his past doubts about himself, he really appreciates when you come around and remind him how far he's come since then.

Muriel:

Muriel's love language is Quality Time!

He's never been the most talkative person or the most touchy-feely, but he enjoys spending a quiet moment with you.

After a long, stressful day, his favorite thing to do is sit in front of the fireplace with you and Inanna to decompress for a bit.

If he has things to do around the forest, Muriel loves when you're right there beside him, even if he doesn't need help with his tasks.

He does have his moments where he will distance himself from you for a bit, but he always comes back to you, happy that you like being around him even on the bad days.

Even if he doesn't always say it, you know Muriel adores you just by how much time he spends around you.

Portia:

Portia's love language is also Gift Giving!

She loves to bake and craft, so anytime she can manage it, she's making you something filled with all the love she can put into it.

She is so in tune with all of your interests that she is always able to give you something that she knows that you will enjoy!

On the rare occasion that she buys you something, she'll always find a way to add a personal touch.

When you make or purchase a present for her, you're also sure to get a treat for Pepi.

It makes Portia cry tears of joy every single time, she loves the fact that you thought of her best feline friend in addition to herself.

Lucio:

And finally, Lucio's love language is Physical Touch!

He is one touch starved son of a bitch, I'll tell you that much. With his mother being the way she was, he craves the loving embrace of another person.

Any chance he can get, he's scooping you into his arms and dropping the both of you onto his bed for a long awaited snuggle session.

Even if you're busy with something else, he will find any way to stick to you, be it with a single kiss on the cheek or full on pulling you into his awaiting lap.

On days where he's not feeling like his usual self, he seeks you out and when he finds you, he's pulling you to a comfortable surface to plop his head onto your thighs.

If you run your fingers through his hair, you'll find him humming contently after a while, relishing in the warm gentleness of your touch.

#the arcana #the arcana imagines #asra alnazar x reader #julian devorak x reader #muriel of the kokhuri x reader #muriel x reader #count lucio x reader #portia devorak x reader #nadia satrinava x reader #headcanon

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eternalbuckley · 11 months

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You are wonderful in the way you are. — eddie munson

SUMMARY: You are bisexual, and you were trying to find a way on how to come out to your friends. Telling Robin and Steve was the easy part but you were anxious about telling Eddie the truth about you. You really wanted to because he was your closest person.

word count: 1,499

genre: fluff, comfort | gn!bisexual!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings: slight description of anxiety and panic (from reader), relationship status with eddie is not described (you can see it in the way how you want), y/n is used a few times, crying/tears, slight jealous eddie, use of petnames (Sweetheart, Angel and Darling), it‘s not proofread, english is not my first language — let me know if i forgot something!

a/n: pride month is ending tonight and I wanted to officially make my comeback to writing here after almost a year. and OF COURSE to write something small for Eddie and bisexual!readers. I am bisexual myself and haven’t come out to anyone in the past few years yet excluding social media. Which is why I really wanted to write this. So whether you are bisexual or not, you‘re valid and I’m so proud of you! Never change because you’re awesome!! Happy reading 🫶

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

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You closed your eyes and hugged Robin and Steve back very tightly. Your body was still a bit shaky but you slowly calmed down while no one said anything. A smile slowly made up its way to your lips because you knew they supported you. You knew Robin was a lesbian and Steve was the most supportive person you‘ve ever seen after Robin came out to you a few months ago. You knew nothing would happen or you hoped nothing would. Anxiety still won when you were sitting with them on the floor in the back of your house.

"I… I mean we are so proud of you." Robin said with a smile while her and Steve let go of you.

They both took your hand and Steve nodded, agreeing with Robin.

"I am glad you trust us so much." He added and you let out a small laughter with slight tears in your eyes.

And that‘s how you spend the rest of the night: Talking about your, Robin‘s and Steve‘s different crushes. Filled with many laughter and tears. Some out of sadness but most of them because you all were happy for one night.

Weeks passed by since you came out to the both idiots you loved so much. You grew closer than ever before and that‘s when Eddie got suspicious. Of course, you all were friends that was nothing new but you being so close with them. Usually, you guys would hangout every Friday night and get high together to just enjoy the time together. But you skipped these nights the last two weeks now and he was scared to lose you for whatever reason.

The thing is, you wanted to spend time with him but you were scared as well. You wanted to tell him the truth about yourself as well and you already had a plan. But you were too scared to be alone with him. You had a lot of serious conversations before but this was the most scariest thing you ever wanted to talk about. With Steve and Robin, it was an easier thing because you knew they would support you. And you were sure Eddie would too but you were still terrified. Steve and Robin comforted you and told you that you should take as much time as you need. They didn’t want you to worry and pressure yourself into coming out to Eddie. Both of them knew how close you and Eddie were and that this was very important to you.

You were currently getting ready to hang out with Steve and Robin again. It was a Friday night and you wanted to watch a movie with them. But there was one thing you forgot to cancel: the planned movie night with Eddie. You were deeply into listening to your music and danced to it without noticing Eddie standing in the doorframe of your room. He was led in by your parents. They liked him and were happy you had someone to spend time with. He watched you with an admiring smile and tried to make no noise.

You were still dancing and the moment you faced the door you let out a small scream. "EDDIE! What the hell!" You held your chest.

He chuckled and pushed him off the door to step into your room. "Hi there, Sweetheart."

"H-hi." You looked at him, nervously. You now remembered that you forgot to cancel the movie night with him tonight and kicked yourself in your mind. "What are you doing here?"

"We planned a movie night, you remember?" He slumped down on your back with a big smile.

"Oh... Yeah sure." You turned around to your mirror. You tried to think about an idea to get out of here.

His smile faltered. "You forgot it. Am I right?" He sighed. "Thought we could spend some time again I haven’t seen you in a while now."

You looked at him through the mirror and saw his changed mood. "I did. I‘m sorry.. I." You put down your perfume bottle. "I had plans with Steve and Robin."

He looked at you. "Again?" You nodded your head.

"You‘ve been having our with them a lot for a while now. Is there something I should know, Y/N?" Eddies voice sounded sad but there was a slight hint of jealousy.

You didn’t answer him but bit your lower lip. You knew you couldn’t run away from this moment forever and would have to face it someday.

Eddie sighed again and got up. "You don’t have to tell me. The next time you just shouldn’t forget to cancel our nights. You know? Unless you want to stop it completely, the I‘ll have to accept it."

You turned around and faced him but were quiet.

"Fine. If you don’t want to talk with me that‘s fine but.." He hesitated. "I deserve answers."

You nodded your head. "Yes. Yes, you do, Eddie."

"Then give me answers, Y/N. At least answer me why you keep avoiding to hangout? Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No! Of course not. It’s nothing about you. It‘s just…" You sighed and closed your door, signalling him this was something serious. You sat down on your bed, hands getting sweaty.

Eddie still stood in the middle of your room and had his eyes focused on you and only you. He noticed the change of your body language and immediately sat down next to you and taking your hand.

"You know you can tell me everything. I won’t judge you."

You looked up to him and had tears in your eyes. He looked softly at you and squeezed your hand.

"I‘m not sure about this, Eddie." You eventually whispered.

He knitted his brows together. "I could never judge you, Sweetheart. Never ever. I swear on my life." He put his other hand over his chest, like the dramatic king he always his.

This caused you to chuckle and he smiled because of it. "Y/N, if you don’t want to tell me, it‘s fine. I don’t want to pressure you into telling me what‘s going on. I can wait."

You shook your head and looked down to your both hands. With the other one you wiped away your tears and deeply breathes in. You were nervous. Extremely nervous.

"There‘s something I‘ve been keeping from you, Eddie. And it‘s a really big thing for me." You closed your eyes for a second. "I‘m scared of telling you. I... I‘m scared of all the possible reactions you could give and I‘m scared it will be one of the bad ones."

He looked at you but didn’t say anything. Eddie wanted to give you as much as time you would need — even if it would take all night. He would be there for you. His kind was working on all the possible things you could mean but he had no idea of what you would say next. It could be everything. But he for sure knew, whatever it is he won’t judge you. He never could, you‘re way too important and special for him. He admired you in the way you are, no matter what.

"I... I am bisexual, Eddie." You breathed out, hands still shaking, and you didn’t dare to look up to him.

Eddie sat there in silence. A big and generous smile appearing on his lips. He immediately hugged you and kissed the side of your head. You didn’t say anything and hugged back. Tears flooding out of your eyes because all you were feeling right now was relief.

A few minutes pass by without any words until Eddie loosened the hug to look at you. "I am so proud of you, angel. You know that?"

You looked at him, the tears slowly stopping and chuckled a bit.

"I am so glad you trust me enough to tell me this about you. And I couldn’t be happier to keep this with me forever." He wiped away your tears. "You‘re wonderful in the way you are. Your sexuality won’t ever change this picture of you. Okay?"

You nodded your head and smiled at him. "Thank you, Eddie. You have no idea how relieved I am now."

He smiled at you and hugged you again. But he knitted his eyebrows together again, he was curious. "Is this why you cancelled our movie nights?" He wasn’t angry or mad.

"Y-yeah. I‘m sorry. I know it‘s stup-"

Eddie interrupted you. "It‘s not." He looked at you again. "I should be sorry."

You raised your eyebrows. "Why should you be? I cancelled them not you. I didn’t say why."

"I was jealous." He admitted.

"Jealous? Of what? Steve and Robin?" You slightly laughed. "Oh my god you were!"

He looked down embarrassed but laughed with you. "Yeah, I was."

You squeezed his hand. "There is absolutely no reason to be jealous, Eds. You will always be my guy." A smile appeared on both of your lips.

"And you will always be my sweetheart."

#⚘; — my writing ✧♡#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things angst #eternalbuckley

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

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"Partners In Crime"

Officer Callahan x Bad Girl!Reader

SUMMARY: As the resident "bad girl" of Hawkins, you truly only want one thing: to get into the pants of the resident dorky and dedicated police officer, Phil Callahan (and hey, maybe steal his heart too!).

NOTES: I recently just finished Stranger Things and yeah, great show, but have you SEEN the men??? 👀 Anyhoe, being the ✨️whore✨️ that I am, it really comes as no surprise that I'm simping over all the hot dudes but one of the hotties I've become obsessed with is CRIMINALLY underrated 😭

And so, of course, I took this grave offense ✨️personally✨️ and wrote this lil piece! Though I can't really call it little because it is SHOCKINGLY long (for me) and I sacrificed hours upon hours of sleep 🥲 But hey, when Phil fucking Callahan (and his gorgeous actor John Reynolds) makes you horny and inspired, YOU👏SEIZE👏THE👏GODDAMN👏MOMENT👏

If it isn't already obvious, this fic contains 18+ SMUT AND MATURE CONTENT and it gets preeetty steamy if I do say so myself~ It's also set roughly around Season 2, and I say roughly cuz I suck at remembering plots and shit so I just went with the flow 😅 And as always, PLEASE don't be a silent reader! Likes, comments, and reblogs are VERY much encouraged and appreciated!! \(^o^)/

I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing this baby! This is my first ever humble contribution to the ST fandom and, who knows, MAYBE not my last ;)

youtube

In the small town of Hawkins, you were popular as the "bad girl". You were loud, headstrong, and constantly got into trouble--completely unlike any of the "proper" ladies that talked shit behind your back. But the trouble you caused, despite the chaos it unfailingly left behind, was never anything actually hurtful. Hell, you were even caught a few times using your colourful language to make some middle school children cry when you saw them bullying some poor boys (one of them, you remember, being the Wheelers' son who always looked like trouble followed him himself).

A bad girl with a golden heart; a cheesy, living cliché. But that's what you were. You just wanted to have fun, to live in the moment. But in this bumfuck town where pretty much nothing happens before that Byers kid mysteriously disappeared then reappeared, how could anyone really blame you for trying to stir shit up simply for your own entertainment and for your damn sanity?

But some of the locals knew you on a personal level. Particularly, the Hawkins Police Department. Before you stumbled upon Hawkins a few years ago, you were a drifter; chasing after the high of wherever life would take you, free yet lost. Whether it was by chance or by fate, you only stopped at Hawkins to fuel up your motorcycle and have a quick bite at the local diner until suddenly--like something out of those fucking romcoms your mother used to watch--you met him.

Phil Callahan. He was only a rookie officer at the time, having not even grown out his beloved moustache yet. You noticed his police cruiser parked at the gas station with an evident bump on the front of the car. He was fuelling up, but his hand holding the pump was limp and he was as pale as a ghost; eyes comically wide behind his horn-rimmed glasses, brunette locks tousled and sticking out every which way after frantically running his free hand through it god knows how many times.

And staring at this clearly stressed, slightly pathetic man, all you could think was: HOT.

Before your brain could process what you were doing (though, let's be honest, you never really used your brain much in most of your life decisions), you found your feet walking away from your bike of their own accord and towards him.

Once you were by his side, it's only then that you realized just how tall he was. So much taller. He easily towered over you and it made your mind drift to other, much less innocent thoughts.

Namely him bending you over his car and fucking you within an inch of your sorry excuse of a life.

"Can I help you?" Your head snapped up from the stranger's voice, eyes meeting his narrowed ones. And--dammit!--he was much more unfairly handsome up close. His light brown eyes reflected almost green, raising a suspicious brow at you as his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Sorry, Officer--" Your gaze strayed to his shiny name tag, a grin tugging up the corners of your mouth. "--Callahan. I just couldn't help but notice you. You look like you just died inside, man."

His brows furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to the bump on his car before quickly darting back to you. "Thanks for your concern, ma'am, but I'm fine. Nothing a civilian should be worried about, anyway."

"If you don't mind--" You piped up once more as he set the pump away. "I think it's got something to do with that nasty bump ya got there, huh?"

"Uh, okay, actually I do mind." He sighed exasperatedly, no longer able to hide his growing aggravation. Today was just not his day, it seemed. "Ma'am, like I said, it is none of your concern." He put on his police hat, tipping it to you. "Good day."

As he turned away from you, you sidestepped him so that you were in front of him again. Your grin was much bigger this time, practically reaching your ears. "Uh-oh, are you in trouble, Mr. Policeman~?" You purred, one hand reaching out and playfully drumming your fingers along his chest. You intently studied him from head to toe, as if admiring an artistic masterpiece before biting your lip and giggling. "Lemme guess... You're a young, new police officer who doesn't know any better. You got so excited driving a police car for the first time that you drove it a bit too fast and crashed into a tree or some shit. Sound about right?"

His face flushed scarlet, and you weren't sure if it was from the shame of having his dumbass misdemeanor exposed or from your fingers making a shiver run down his spine--probably both.

"How do you--"

"This ain't exactly my first time having a lil run-in with the law, so I know how men like you work." You winked. "Hey, tell ya what, how 'bout I help you? You can tell your other piggy buddies that I'm some crazy bitch with anger issues you caught for speeding and in my oh so scary rage, I purposely crashed my motorbike to the front of your car just to fuck with you. You can even put cuffs on me~"

He blinked, utterly dumbstruck as he stared down at the total menace that was you (and the fact that a certain part of him reacted at you graciously allowing him to cuff you), feeling like forever until he finally found his voice that cracked slightly as he spoke. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Y/N L/N." You hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned up on your tiptoes and dangled slightly off of him with the few inches left between the two of you. The sudden action caught him completely off guard, his hands dropping to your hips to support you and making him blush even redder. But you didn't care, smiling mischievously up at him. "Feel free to search me up in the system, Officer. I've got a permanent record, after all~"

And that's how you met Jim Hopper, Calvin Powell, and the rest of the Hawkins Police Department when Callahan brought you with him back to the station. They definitely didn't believe you guys, especially when you didn't have a single scratch on you that indicated you "crashed your bike to his vehicle" (Callahan cleaned up your choice of wording a bit). But it was amusing to see Callahan dragging you along in handcuffs, who appeared all too joyful with a shit-eating smile as if you just won the lottery. Meanwhile, Callahan's cheeks were flaming hot and his voice adopted to a nervous high pitch as he lied to everyone who were just barely containing their laughter.

It also wasn't long before you decided to settle into Hawkins in some shitty trailer park, but you couldn't really complain considering your drifting years weren't all sunshine and rainbows either.

Besides, Callahan made it all worth it.

It wasn't love at first sight, but there was absolutely attraction. Hell, you were practically (if not literally) throwing yourself at him during your first encounter, and after that it would be the same--if not more intense.

You were no stranger to trouble, but often times you would seek for trouble yourself on purpose just so you could wind up in the police station to bother--ahem, I mean, very persistently try to hang out with Callahan. Or you'd just go to the station despite having no business there, but Flo the secretary usually kicked you out before you had the chance to even lay eyes on the gorgeous four eyes.

Today, however, Flo wasn't there. You didn't believe in some higher power, but it was a fucking miracle that you were grateful for and didn't dare to question. And so you more than happily made yourself at home in the station, sitting down at Callahan's desk as you curiously pried into his stuff before a deep laugh from behind you broke you out of your little reverie.

"This is just ridiculous now, Y/N." Hopper shot you an incredulous though very much amused expression. "If you like Callahan so much--which I have no fucking idea why--then just ask him out on a date already."

It was no secret that Hopper can be a total grump, but oddly enough you became fast friends with him. He never gave you a hard time and you never bullshitted him, which in turn formed a weird sort of respect between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes at the huge man, turning back to Callahan's desk and inspecting his assortment of pens--which you thought was way too much and he probably doesn't even use all of them, but that only amped up his dorkish charm to you by, like, a thousand.

"You're one to talk, Hop." You scoffed, snatching a pen and beginning to click it continuously. "I bet your hand's tired from jerking off to Joyce Byers."

Hopper scowled, but a faint rosiness dusted his cheeks. "Okay, first off--" Click. "I do not jerk off to Joyce--" Click. "and unlike you--" Click. "I actually have the balls to ask her out--" Click. "she just hasn't--" Click. "WILL YOU STOP FUCKING CLICKING THAT GODDAMN PEN?!"

You didn't even flinch, casually stashing the pen away in your pocket before you stood and faced him. "Enough about you." You huffed, crossing your arms as your eyes levelled with his. Hopper may as well be a living brick wall walking around ready to punch whoever crossed him, but you were never intimidated by the chief of police whom you've admittedly grown a soft spot for. "Callahan on for patrol duty tonight?"

"Yeah, and you owe me big time." He frowned when you blatantly ignored him, but what was new? "I need as much manpower as I can get to investigate what the hell's going on with the pumpkin patches yet here I am, like a fucking idiot, helping to set you and Callahan up."

"You looove me~" You teased, patting his shoulder and granting him a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "This is all for a good cause, big guy. And just think, the sooner Callahan and I get together, the faster I'll be outta your hair!" You chuckled. "And hey, you're thinking too much into those pumpkin patches. Probably just some pumpkin farmers having a pumpkin war. Go big or gourd home, am I right?"

Hopper watched as you laughed obnoxiously loud at your stupid pun, looking so proud of yourself as little snorts wracked your smaller frame and your shoulders shook from sheer glee. He shook his head, sighing heavily to himself.

"God, I actually feel kinda bad for Callahan..."

•••♡•••

Night couldn't fall any quicker, but once it finally did your entire body was practically bursting with excitement like a child who's about to go out for trick or treating.

You hopped onto your bike, revving up the engine and driving even more maniacally than your Munson neighbour did out of the trailer park. You didn't even keep track anymore of how fast you were going, your hair flying as you raced down the road and were greeted by Halloween decorations strewn about in various houses' lawns.

A few minutes later, you found yourself on the empty road leading out of Hawkins. And just as you predicted--had hoped--the shrill blare of a siren sliced through the air and the all too familiar red and blue lights nearly blinded your vision as a police cruiser followed close on your tail.

You couldn't suppress the giddy grin that tore across your face, slowing down by the side of the road and the car pulling up next to you.

The butterflies in your stomach were doing fucking somersaults now as you heard the car door open and shut close, boots thudding on the ground as your favourite officer approached.

"Well, well, well... Lookie who we have here~?" The singsong voice made your grin widen even more if it was possible, making your cheeks hurt. The beam from a flashlight hit your eyes, and once your sight adjusted there was none other than Callahan, staring down at you with his pretty brown eyes. "If it isn't Lil Miss Trouble."

"Cally!" You giggled like some lovesick schoolgirl, and if we were being honest, you pretty much acted like you are. "Fancy seeing you here~ Halloween ain't 'til tomorrow, so why are ya out on patrol?"

"Beats me." He shrugged. "The chief suddenly put me on duty. Also, you know how much I hate that nickname." He grimaced, turning the flashlight off. It was quite dark, but you could still see him well enough due to a lone street lamp a couple feet away. "Get off."

His sudden commanding tone sent a shiver down your spine, a certain part of you getting wet. And it didn't help that you decided to forgo panties, your slick coating the seat of your bike. You then jumped off, your breasts bouncing slightly. This action didn't go unnoticed by him, his eyes dropping to your chest and trailing down your figure until his gaze landed on your skirt--if it could even be called that.

You were wearing a leather mini skirt that left little to the imagination, hugging your curves just right and showing off your thighs. He thought that if you made one wrong move, you'd flash him your panties; of course, not knowing you weren't even wearing any.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love your moustache?" You purred, heart leaping when he went speechless and his mouth hung agape.

His eyes flicked back up to meet yours, snapping out of his trance. "Only the first hundred times." He then cleared his throat, pointing an accusatory finger at you with a hand placed on his hip like a parent scolding their child. "Flattery won't work on me, Y/N. Do you know how fast you were going? And why weren't you wearing a helmet?"

"I know I was going pretty fucking fast!" You guffawed. "As for not wearing a helmet, well, what can I say? I don't like feeling restricted. I like being free. If I could, I'd totally go naked."

You saw his Adam's apple bob as he gulped at your emphasis of "naked", a death grip on his flashlight as his jaw squared. "That's public indecency." He stated simply. He was getting better dealing with you, but the ever so slight crack in his voice was a telltale sign that you still very much had an intoxicating, beguiling effect on him. "And where the hell were you going? Were you...leaving Hawkins?"

You didn't miss the plaintive way he had asked the question, your heart melting. He cared for you. No matter how much trouble you caused everyone, caused him... He would still check up on you, and you even caught him several times keeping watch outside of your trailer when Will Byers went missing a year ago. He claimed that the police were patrolling every nook and cranny after the kid's disappearance, but you never saw Hopper or anyone else guarding other people's homes like how Callahan did yours.

"I'm not leaving, Phil." You breathed out, nothing more than a whisper as you looked up at him; serious, for once. Because as boring as this town was, you've grown fond of it. And Callahan played a big part in that and even if you weren't together, he was the closest to home that you've ever felt in a long fucking time.

He searched your face for any lies, brown eyes soft before a genuine smile graced his features. "You better not, Lil Miss Trouble." A beat passed between the two of you, breaths mingling together and you only just realized how close you both were standing to each other. He had you caged against your bike, and you had to strain your neck just to be eye level with the tall man.

Then something in his expression shifted, and soon he was drawing away from you. "W-Well, I'm gonna let you off with a warning. Just this once, though! Think of it as thanks for that time--" You cut off his rambling when you reached out, grabbing his hand.

"I didn't leave." You declared, an almost pleading tone in your voice. "So don't leave either, Phil."

For what felt like a dreadful eternity, you were swallowed by a deafening silence. You, who was usually so confident, found your will breaking with each passing second. Your grasp softened until you let go, feeling your heart sink to your stomach.

"...Forget it. Thanks, Cal--" But you couldn't finish; because in a blink of an eye, his lips were on yours. It was brief, feather light. But the chaste peck made your heart explode, and you didn't even question if this was just one of your silly fantasies. It felt too real--too good.

He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and his warm breath tickling your nose. "I'm not leaving." He murmured, such beautiful, sincere greenish brown eyes locking with yours. "I'm not leaving you, Y/N."

You felt tears prickle your eyes, but before you would ever allow them to fall you wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled your nose with his. "Then prove it." And you crashed your lips with his, this time fiercely, passionately. You felt the rough brush of his moustache, but that only made everything feel astoundingly better.

He finally closed the gap between you two, looming over you, the flashlight clattering to the ground as his much larger hands clutched on to your hips before he easily lifted you and plopped you down on your bike's seat. You wrapped your legs around his waist, nipping on his bottom lip that elicited a gasp from him which you gladly took as the opportunity to slide your tongue inside his mouth. His tongue tangled with yours and coaxed it into a sensual dance, earning him a most heavenly moan from you.

You two only pulled away for breath, a thin string of saliva connecting your tongues. But his glasses were foggy and tinkly laughter bubbled out of you, feeling like a druggie high off of life--high off of him.

He chuckled, taking his glasses off to wipe them before putting them back on. "Sorry." He smiled sheepishly. "That ruined the moment, didn't it?"

"On the contrary..." You were still laughing, but you held one of his hands still on your hip and guided it lower, lower, lower...until his palm was right on your bare pussy. "You always turn me on, Cal. It's pretty fucking ridiculous, honestly."

His breath hitched sharply when he felt how drenched you were, his pupils dilating and mouth forming an 'O' at the realization that you've been half naked this whole time. He pressed his palm closer to your core, your laughter instantly dying down as his thumb slowly rubbed circles around your clit. One of your hands flew to his hair, something you've always dreamt of doing ever since you saw the incredibly sexy messy state it was in the day you met him. Your other hand clung onto his shirt for dear life, a gasp escaping you as he pinched your nub and began to stroke his fingers along your slit.

He leaned down to your ear, his fingers gradually increasing their pace and you trembled from the pure ecstasy that overcame your senses just from his deft fingers. "You really are a little troublemaker, huh?" He chuckled, voice dropping an octave lower. "You planned this all along, didn't you? Fucking slut..." His lips dragged down your ear to the crook of your neck, biting down and leaving a mark that had you crying out. "My beautiful fucking slut."

"All yours, Officer~" You mewled, your hand latched onto his shirt making its descent to his crotch. You palmed him, feeling his prominent erection aching to spring free as he groaned. "Just be mine, too." You peered down at him, eyes hazy with desire and desperation. "Pretty please?"

"I think I've been yours ever since we met. Not like I had a choice on the matter, anyway." He snickered before capturing your lips once more in a sultry, intimate kiss. Your mouth moved in perfect tandem with his, but you both took your sweet time as everything else faded away. There was only you and Callahan, Callahan and you. And it's all you ever fucking wanted; all you needed.

Not breaking the kiss, you shucked your leather jacket off and carelessly tossed it to the ground. Your hands came up to cup the sides of his face, fingers caressing him tenderly while his hands crawled beneath your white tank top; imagine his pleasant surprise to discover that you didn't wear a bra either.

"Jesus..." He muttered, yanking your tank top up before kneading and squeezing your perfect breasts as his lascivious gaze met your own. "You're gonna kill a fucking cop here." He grunted, making you giggle which immediately turned into an elated whimper as he tweaked your pert nipples.

"Get down. Turn around. Ass up." He ordered, and you didn't at all hesitate to obey. In your haste, you nearly tumbled off of your bike though Callahan steadied you. "Eager, are we, Y/N?" He chuckled, but something about the way your name smoothly, seductively rolled off his tongue had you wanting to fall down on your knees and reverently suck him off instead. But you didn't dare disobey, spinning around with your back to him and bending over your bike.

Though something dropped to the ground as you bent over, making Callahan arch a brow as he picked it up.

"My pen?" He scoffed, and though you can't see him, you can feel his disapproving stare boring into the back of your head like daggers. "Naughty girl, now you're stealing? Tsk, tsk." He flipped up your skirt, your ass now in full view as he licked his lips. His hands groped the pillowy soft flesh, releasing a low whistle of appreciation as he squeezed before suddenly raising his hand and spanking you.

"Ah..!" You exclaimed, looking over your shoulder with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. "M'sorry, Officer~"

Smack! Another slap had you reeling in the best way possible, your pussy clenching at--unfortunately--nothing as you whimpered.

"Uh-uh. Didn't say you could look at me, did I, naughty girl?" He chided, seeing that you were wiggling your ass and trying to inch closer to him.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Three slaps, one right after the other. Your flesh glowed red with his handprint, making him smirk devilishly.

"M'sorry..." You said again, your voice coming out as a meek squeak. But more. You wanted more, more, more. "I'm a good girl, I promise!"

"I'm sure you are~" He hummed leisurely. "Just gotta prove it to me, right, baby?"

Before you had any chance to reply, he prodded your legs apart with his knee and his pants unzipping sounded like the most divine music to your ears. Both of your breaths got caught in your throats as the tip of his cock pressed against your pussy, stroking up and down your entrance slowly, teasingly. Your lustful impatience getting the best of you because, fuck, you deserved this, you were just about to slide down onto him when he suddenly pushed his entire cock in with no warning.

And fuck he was big. Much bigger than you ever fantasized, completely stretching you out as a long moan was drawn out of you and your upper body fell like a ragdoll on your bike. You vaguely heard him laughing huskily before he started to move; carefully, as if he was afraid you might break.

But with you? That didn't last very long, any pathetic thread of patience he had snapping as soon his thrusts started to become rapid, hard, wild--hitting that amazing spot deep inside your gummy walls over and over again, the lewd squelches of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy perfectly harmonizing with skin slapping against skin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck..!" You screamed, toes curling and grinding your ass in time with his thrusts as he watched, utterly transfixed, with how you seemed to just fit him like a puzzle piece; the fucking addicting way you slammed back down onto him, your skin rolling with each bounce, your pussy clenching his cock like a goddamn vice and effortlessly accepting all of him.

He then wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing just enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head before pulling you up so that you were standing and your back was pressed against his chest. He nuzzled his face just beneath your ear, hot pants grazing your skin as he never seized his pleasurable assault to your cunt as he continued to pound relentlessly into you like a beast in heat.

Suddenly, he pressed his pen to your clit. Your eyes widened as you felt the long, thin object rubbing against your sensitive mound, stroking and poking at your folds as his cock drove in and out, in and out.

"Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He whispered, planting butterfly kisses along the delicate column between your neck and shoulder, his grip on your neck tightening ever so slightly as he humped against you.

"Y-Yes, fuck, yes Officer..!" You choked out, rocking your hips desperately as you could almost see stars.

"Then cum, Y/N."

And you did; your walls fluttered and clamped down on his dick, your body stilling and eyes crossing as waves of the highest rapture coursed throughout your body. Callahan soon followed, a nearly animalistic groan accompanying the spurts of cum that gushed into your deepest, most intimate part as his hips stuttered to a halt.

You basked in silence, revelling in the satisfying afterglow. Then, agonizingly slowly, his twitching cock slid out of you, making you convulse and you could feel the hot cum trickling down your legs. He spun you around and gently grabbed your chin, tipping it up and examining your completely fucked out expression. You stuck your tongue out, and he didn't waste a precious moment as he leaned down and entwined your tongue with his. He held you closely, securely; hugging you to his broad chest as he stepped backwards until his back bumped into his car to support the both of you.

You were the first to pull away from the sloppy liplock, laying your head on his chest and sighing deeply. "That was..." You looked up at him, blinking dazedly. "...not what I expected."

"Did you not have fun?" He chuckled, though there was a hint of worry in his voice as his thumb lazily caressed your swollen bottom lip, kind brown eyes seeking yours. Shit, did he overdo it? Or worse... Did you realize that you actually weren't that into him?

"I did, it's just..." You trailed off before a giggle erupted out of you, shaking your head. "Y'know, the first time we met, I actually thought of you bending me over your car and fucking me. I never imagined I'd be bent over my bike."

"For fuck's sake, Y/N, you really are gonna be the death of me!" He whined dramatically, making you laugh and soon he joined you.

"So..." You grinned, fixing his glasses that had fallen to the bridge of his nose and running a hand through his sweaty, unruly curls that you loved too fucking much. "Was I a good girl, Cally~?"

"The fucking best." He returned your euphoric grin, booping your nose and, though he'd never admit it, he actually liked your nickname. Just for him, only by you. "Buuut you're a good girl that's coming back to the station with me."

"Huh? But I thought you're gonna let me off the hook for speeding?" You questioned, confused.

"I am, but you're forgetting your other crimes." He cleared his throat, rising to his full height and looming over you yet again. "Public indecency..." He traced his pen on your pussy, making you shudder as the cold metal glided across your skin up to the valley between your breasts. "...and theft."

"Well, Officer, if that's the case then you're not innocent either~" You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck and dangling off of him much like you did the first time. "You stole my heart, after all~"

His face was as red as a tomato, smiling like a doofus as he hooked his hands under your plush thighs, hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Taking you by surprise, but definitely not unwelcomed as he stared up at you with a stupidly smitten expression.

"We're partners in crime, then, Lil Miss Trouble~"

#Stranger Things #Stranger Things Smut #Phil Callahan #Officer Callahan #Phil Callahan Smut #Officer Callahan Smut #Phil Callahan x Reader #Officer Callahan x Reader #Phil Callahan x Reader Smut #Officer Callahan x Reader Smut #Reader x Phil Callahan #Reader x Officer Callahan #Reader x Phil Callahan Smut #Reader x Officer Callahan Smut

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frownyalfred · 11 months

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I was sorry to see you dealing with so many critical comments in Borderline recently, mostly because I love that fic and I love seeing characters in complex situations making bad choices sometimes. But I ALSO wanted to say that the way you're handling it is very classy. I have been dealing with some terrible comments on my own fics lately, and I find myself going to your page to learn how to handle it in a way that's fair, without being overly reactive or targeting anyone. Sometimes I can't tell whether to delete a comment or not, or whether to respond to a criticism or not, especially when my own hurt feelings get in the way. It really helps to see how someone else deals with it in a wise and experienced fashion. So thank you for that. If you have any further tips, too, I'd love to hear them!

Thank you so much anon! And I'm really, truly sorry that you're also dealing with hurtful comments. Nobody deserves that, especially authors working for free to put content out there.

I appreciate this ask a lot since there have been many times in the last few months where I have blown up privately, been upset, considered nuking everything, and generally reacted very poorly to negative, condescending, backhanded, or downright abusive comments. I was not handling it well! I was feeling hurt, and definitely not wise!

I have some wise, wise writing friends though. And generally, after venting (quite understandably) I think most authors know, in their gut, how they want to respond to these kinds of comments.

My advice is as follows, and it's been what I've pieced together from friends and my own experiences in the last few weeks:

Stand by your fic and your choices. It's great to slightly alter your plot when people respond really positively to a character, for example, but don't let a crowd of angry commenters force your hand on any decision, whether it's small or large. Would you have removed that character if there hadn't been three comments about it?

Try to be the adult in the room. Even if you're not older than your commenters or readers, the rule still stands. Try not to sink to their level (barring some necessary cases) and get in the mud. You're the author and you have all the power! Mute them, block them, lock down your comments -- the only power they have is through commenting, and getting into your head. That's power you can give them, or take away from them.

Be honest about how the comments make you feel. A lot of times, I think authors layer their hurt in other, more acceptable reasons. It's okay to be hurt by a backhanded, but well-intentioned comment. Saying "I appreciate this comment but the way you phrased it hurt me for x reason" is a totally mature and realistic way to respond to comments like that. Or telling readers something like "Please don't yell at each other/the characters in my comments, it stresses me out and makes me feel like you're upset with the story and/or me" is what I ended up doing.

Don't get caught in the weeds. Delete the comments that make you upset. Really. You don't need to respond to every comment (I have several rants about this already) and if you do, you definitely don't need to respond to ones that make you sad, upset, etc. If deleting that weird comment or skipping over a reply will make you feel better, do it! I'm sure your readers would prefer you skip a response over you getting hung up on a mean comment and not writing.

Know when to walk away. I took a break from writing borderline because it was stressing me out. Like, my already-high blood pressure was getting higher. I took a month off and wrote other things, and when I was ready to put up a new chapter, the words came really quickly and I was inspired again <3 It's also 100% okay if you never come back to that fic or series again -- your mental health is always -- always -- more important.

6. (bonus) sometimes saying "fuck you" is better than anything else. Sometimes, the pettiness wins, and you're not the adult in the room. I get it. I've ranted a lot on here and posted a lot about (anonymized) comments I've received. So yeah, fuck you, random assholes commenting awful things to me about sexual assault -- one day I hope to find a way to block my fics from ever being read by you again.

Sorry this was a bit of a rant. If you ever want to talk, anon, my inbox/DMs are always open. I'm sorry again that you're receiving hateful comments -- you don't deserve it, and your work deserves to flourish on its own. I hope you keep repeating that to yourself <3

#asks #anon #writing #writing things #fic #fic things #author things #ao3 #archive of our own #about me #personal #borderline #myfic #theresurrectionist

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sentientgopro · 3 months

Text

Coming up on 3 months since cracking. It's still, like, a week away, but honestly, close enough and I wanna write this post now. Not much is gonna change in that time anyway.

The main thing I wanna note is like, the SIGNIFICANT mental changes. There is a name. I have never uttered that name out loud. Noone knows the name IRL. Noone has used that name for me online. Nothing.

...But If I, just quickly, imagine someone calling my name, or getting my attention, that's the name they're saying. If I quickly imagine someone referring to me in third person, I'm she.

And I think of these same things with my current name and it just doesn't quite feel right, or the same anymore.

People always talk about the infamous "I'm a girl" dreams. and I've started getting, like, 3 a week? Or atleast 3 where I'm, to some extent, trans. Like, even if I wasn't quite a girl yet, I had a dream that included picking up an estrogen prescription.

And all this, after 3 months, while deep closeted and unable to do anything about transitioning.

And, for my own sanity, I've had to find things to appreciate during this time. I can't spend the next year and a half avoiding acknowledging myself and what I look like. So I've atleast started to appreciate the little things. If I look closely at my eyes and ignore the rest of my face, I feel happy. idk, there's just something about my eyes in isolation that feel different to the rest of my face somehow, idk what it is but they feel more feminine, if that makes any sense.

And then there's my hair. Look, I have really short hair. Pretty average hair length for a guy. But my parents have been incredibly militant with keeping my hair very short for, well, as long as I can remember, until recently when my Dad abruptly asked if I wanted to grow it out (unbelievably convenient, he's transphobic and hss no idea about me. We take those I guess?)

But now, even the slightest bit longer hair feels great to me. Those little bits that grow down infront of your ears? Love it. Never had that be that long before. My hair ain't much, but its alot to me. And its only gonna get longer and longer, better and better.

And, look, this one sounds weird, but thighs. The way the fat squishes and flattens out when I sit down. I am a very skinny person, to the extent that my thighs are probably the fattest part of me relative to the body part. They aren't that thick, but relative to the rest of my body, it's enough to make me really happy. One time I was reading something about a lil deep-closet trick of wearing a long shirt and a shorter/ rolled up hoodie, and I kinda like it. Doing that, while sat down causing my thighs to squish slightly just looks so right.

(I was strongly debating whether to actually include this section. I doubt this would ever be the case, but just in case, don't be weird about it?)

I'm not gonna keep commenting on dysphoria increasing. I've kinda figured that's just par for the course. My general mood has decreased, I just don't feel good, but I'm not actually in that bad of a place mentally. I'm feeling optimistic, a solution to my problems is out there and I am gonna make it. It's already been a quarter of a year since cracking, that's no small amount of time relative to how long I have to wait. No matter how much I feel like shit about not being able to transition yet, it's better than when I didn't know what the problem was and thought I would just find myself ending it at some point. Now I know that isn't happening.

With each day, each little daydream, every time I imagine a scenario where I'm me, I get closer to actually being me. Physical is just a wait, but mental is a gradual process that is already well underway.

#personal logs #transfem #196 #transgender #lgbtq #lgbtqia

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neuroprincess · 10 months

Note

You write for Maura Isles? If you don't want to or not feeling it, no worries, but I'd like a fic or hc of Maura Isles and reader falling in love. Like, would the reader fall first? Would Maura fall for reader after the reader goes off on one of her hyperfixiation (like astronomy?) When would they jump in bed together? How long would they date before marriage? Who would propose? Does Maura want kids? Does Maura get jealous? What are some kinks and definite no in bed for Maura? Literally, just whatever you want to write, I'll be so grateful!

Hi darling! I appreciate that you were very specific in what you want, I loved writing these headcanons, so much that I also wrote a NSFW Alphabet to answer some of them. Thank u for requesting and hope you like it ^^

Rizzoli & Isles - Dating Maura Isles (Headcanon)

Maura Isles/Reader

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: +1400

- For a smart person, she can be very… oblivious. You're the first to fall in love and get close, theoretically it's easy considering how this woman can know and be interested in anything, talking about her hyper fixations for hours without even noticing any advances from you or leaving space for it. Maura only realizes this a few weeks later, with a little help from Angela. She also finally sees the little signs you have given, the interest in things she likes and the dedication to your own hyper fixations. And realizes that she's in love too. It was so natural she barely noticed, suddenly finds herself craving your presence, storing up little facts, memories and making sure you are okay, she feels really safe and comfortable around you too, which makes her feel dumb for the first time for being shamefully oblivious;

- After that the doctor is very direct about how she feels, starts flirting openly and giving you gifts, whether it's something you seemed interested in at the shop or something you commented on during a chat, the charm is attention to the little details. It doesn't take long for the proposal to be made, in the most conventional and cliché way possible, probably in a restaurant with a simple but beautiful promise ring being placed on your finger at the end of the night;

- Maura likes intimacy in general from the beginning of the relationship, such as soft kisses, holding hands and cuddling on movie night, with a hand in your hair gently petting, it becomes common for you to fall asleep like this. Spooning is her favorite position, small or big spoon, it doesn't matter. She can be a cuddly little ball full of love to give and she is learning to express it;

- So it's a surprise and a bit frustrating that you take time to have some intimacy inside the bedroom, she leads at a slow pace, a total provocation. Sexy lingerie that she makes sure to leave on view, double meaning phrases, fingers that linger in sensitive spots and slow kisses full of passion. All this is preparation for the special day, about one month and a half after the proposal. It's a weekend when the blonde brings you to a small vacation in a cabin near the lake where you cook, do SPA and take bubble bath together, leaving the bathroom you find a decorated bedroom, petals on the bed and a good bottle of champagne (or wine if you prefer) in the ice bucket. Maura wants to make this moment unique, romantic and special. Also, it's the first time she says "I love you";

- Despite her busy schedule and being called away at any time, because the criminals don't care if she has to be home for dinner, shared meals are very important. Be it a quick lunch in her office or a meal made at home while talking about your respective days, from time to time Maura wants to test new recipes, which can become a great couple program, or a family one, because for sure the Rizzoli's will be around. She finds she can be quite a homebody, love that dynamic;

- She loves it so much that in less than a year you're already living together, it's as natural as falling in love was, she's so welcoming and soon you're spending almost every night together, every weekend, you start referring to her house as home and in the blink of eye half the luxurious closet is filled with your own clothes. It becomes official when, on some random evening watching documentaries, you comment on the upcoming lease renewal and she just looks very confused, the doctor thought you were living with her and had already disposed of the apartment. There's not much to say except that you didn't renew the lease;

- Maura wasn't aware of jealousy until you came into her life, however she still rarely feels jealous, but when it happens feel prepared to confront the little green-eyed monster. In public she'll appeal to PDA (hc's here), long kisses, an arm around yours and having you sit on her lap. At home it's a different story, she'll show you who you belong to, marks left where only she has the privilege to see and giving you a hard time… maybe for walking the next day too;

- Commemorative dates, that didn't matter so much before, are now something she appreciates after meeting the Rizzoli's, when she meets you those same dates become special. Another day to spend together and love each other in different ways. She doesn't forget any anniversary either, starting with breakfast in bed, flowers delivered to work, hidden gifts and ending with a candlelit dinner prepared by her;

- This woman is a generous lover, special dates are not the only occasions when she gives you gifts, no reason is needed. Get ready to be very spoiled. Your smile is priceless. If you comment about a book you don't have yet, well, that will be on your bedside table the next night. A movie interests you? She gets tickets for the upcoming day off. Cramps? She spends the day making compresses and giving you anything you want, including abdominal massages. What the blonde really loves is buying you clothes and jewelry because she's a fashionista, but mostly because she's proud to show you off at events wearing an outfit she handpicked and bought. Gifts are her way of showing how much she loves and appreciates you, it's so sweet how she pays attention to every detail;

- There's a reason she gave you a promise ring, from the first moment of realization of being in love she knew that one day she would marry you, sooner or later. On the one year anniversary of the relationship a ring was bought, it's thin, elegant and has a central diamond with small ones around. It is kept until the second year, the doctor thought of several ways to propose and even tried to get advice from Jane. In the end, she puts this moment off so long thinking about how perfect it could be that you are the one who ends up proposing at one time or another. It's a bit worrying her first reaction, you almost believe she'll refuse or say she's not ready, but she just kneels down opening a small box, smiling ear to ear;

- Some career moments can change the way a person thinks and sees life, before the case of the baby they saved being a mother was never something she considered, holding that little human in arms warmed her heart in a different way. So yes, Maura would want kids, but it's not something she needs to feel complete, knows very well how to differentiate that, meaning she would never impose it. In case you want kids, she'll be very excited, planning almost everything in advance and more than ready for when this moment arrives. Open either to adoption or to having biological children, in the second case she considers you as the one to carry, the blonde doesn't see herself pregnant and is afraid of the dangers of the profession (kidnapping, vindictive criminals, bombs, radiation, etc) that could put a pregnancy at risk. Deep down she is very excited about the idea of seeing you pregnant with her baby;

- She wants two kids, so they can have each other's company and be friends, growing up as an only child and alone has made her reflect on wanting things to be different for her own children. She wants them to have someone to play with, talk to and be confidants with besides the adults, to be children and act like, very different from herself in childhood. If you, by chance, want more than two Maura wouldn't object, possibly already looking for bigger houses in neighborhoods with good schools;

- Babies/kids are a plan for after the wedding, maybe a couple of years so you can enjoy the marriage before conceiving/adopting your children. Until then all the maternity books she bought will be read, good clinics selected and a room prepared;

- You are together a little more than three years of relationship when you finally get married, the type of ceremony and the size don't matter to her since you are happy, if you want a big wedding Maura will be part of every detail and preparation, doing everything to make it the day of your dreams, more than perfect. And she will be equally lively and dedicated if you prefer something small and intimate. For her the only thing that matters is marrying the woman she loves and being happy, making you Y/N Isles. Her wife.

taglist: @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @geekyandgay98 @missdowling @loudchaoscoffee @unexpected-character @multifandomlesbianic

Join my taglist here ^^

#maura isles x reader #maura isles #rizzoli and isles #headcanon #fanfic

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crestfallercanyon · 2 months

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🏜️ 🥤🍓 :)

Thank you so much for the ask @mmmichyyy !! I'm excited to answer.

First off, the (I actually don't know what this is lol) 🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Um, I just appreciate people enjoying my work, honestly. Always makes my day. I do enjoy when people point out lines that they liked, and especially if they think it really sounds like the character I'm writing for (when it comes to fanfiction). It just makes me feel good. But honestly, just hearing someone enjoyed what I wrote truly is super thrilling and I love hearing from people reading, so really anything.

and then the 🍓, how did you get into writing fanfiction?

So I started writing original fiction a LONG time ago, like when I was a young tween. I got into fanfiction due to the pandemic. I just wanted to write something indulgent for me, and had never heard of ao3 and had never had a tumblr either. My first fandom I wrote for (knowing it was fanfiction, I technically wrote Doc Holliday/Katie Elder fanfiction way back when, if it can even be called that),but my first fandom was Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Then it was a teeny tiny video game fandom that I won't even say that's how small it is. Then coldflash, then my friend got me back into TMR and I haven't left TMR since, but have picked up others like Inception and Shameless.

It initially started as a practice to try to help me get my pacing to be better (because I tend to write too long). And now I still think my scenes are probably a little too long lol, but I have become a better writer over the years. So yeah, that's how I got into it!

🥤 recommend a fic or an author I love

Oh, do we have all day? I'm going to take up all day. I realize it says "an" as in probably only one, but I went way overboard. like embarrassingly so. I have so many recs. This got out of hand and I wasn't even done but it's time for me to go to BED so I have to STOP. Anyway, here is my list of recs. I moved this question last that's how long this is lol. Hope you find something you love from here!

@subjecta5newtella , (unbelieve on ao3) they don't miss. I've read several different fandoms of what they've written and they're all great. They also write killer second person fics which is just like, it takes a damn good writer to do that. Also I just learned they've also written for Avatar and Merlin and now I will be reading more of their fics. (also fuck me I have not commented on so many of these I'm such a bastard, I need to comment). Anyway, Some fic recs from them of what I have read that's been great

A Hundred Thousand Loves (for just this one), Maze Runner, Minewt, T+

And if This is What it Takes, Stand By Me, Chris Chambers/Gordie, M

holding all i used to be sorry about, The Flash, Hartmon, T+

They also do great Star Trek: TNG and just Star Trek in general fics

@blue-summers, bluesummersmoon on ao3-- I love all of their thomally. They have written for thomallyweek a few times now and I just -- there is something so lyrical about how they write, and whether their melody is a tragedy or a lullaby, it just always sings. They also have a greece au that's fantastic for tmr. They've also written for other amazing fandoms (I believe I have read their Merlin fic now that I am looking at the title) and I just. I recommend. (they've also done LotR which I'm so mad impressed by and they've done Merlin too!)

Oh when you love it, TMR, Thomally, T+

Meltwater, TMR, Thomally, G

The Greece AU

fissures, TMR, Minewt, T+

@qlala, qlala on ao3 as well, they don't miss. Their fics always are so good. I particularly love their modern aus, I don't usually love aus with coldflash but I love all of qlalas, I also don't usually read kid fics, but you guessed it, qlalas are fantastic. They are such a good writer, and their coldflash just has me chomping at the bit. I often drift on the sides of coldflash these days, but whenever I see they've posted I am brought back into the swirl of them and I am ever so happy to be back because that's how good qlala is.

and because I'm a sucker for soft possessive coldflash, here's one of my absolute favorites: and in your heart I feel how cold it can get; which by the way I just realized how tragic that title is and I am in awe again. So good.

Also this au where Barry is a hired escort and Len is a politician hiring him to raise his ratings with the polls (there's a part two as well/not really technically tied to this story but same universe) that's gold: talking with your fast hands, saving all your slow dances -- very good (also that song the title is from is also a banger, winnetka bowling league my beloved).

@sam-loves-seb, sam_writes_fics on ao3, I am pretty sure they are my most bookmarked gallavich writer, I love the way they write gallavich, also their fucking power to be able to stick to like themed MONTHS and churn out GOOD FICS so FAST? because of time and because their stuff is all that good, I am genuinely just going to link their whole profile and tell you that if you like gallavich you won't be disappointed, they're amazing.

I don't know their tumblr, but pink_ink is another fantastic gallavich writer. They mostly write explicit stuff, and it's all great. They have a (few) multiple chap fics that absolutely stole my heart. My favorite one of theirs? It is absolutely so poetic and sexy and tragic, and Mickey's voice is on fucking point.

Regular What, Shameless (US), Gallavich, E

Paragraphs is also really good. A Shameless multichap ,Gallavich, E

Another tumblr that if they have one I don't know, but I also love spqr's works. It's funny because I've actually just naturally ran into them like several times while delving into fandoms, I never looked at their dashboard until I hit them I think three separate times because I was like "wait, I recognize this author, did I read something else of theirs?" and it was straight up in an entirely different fandom. The fics I did that on are as follows:

madwoman, The Queen's Gambit (TV), Beth/Benny, M

Whensoever, The Sandman (TV), Dreamling, E

the dry sand of daylight, Inception (2010), Arthur/Eames, E

Um, I could do this for hours just going through my bookmarks, but I genuinely am getting tired so I don't want to do that. One day maybe. But, some fics that I would absolutely be a complete dunce if I did not mention because I reread them SO OFTEN. So here we go:

Ready by comebacknow, The Maze Runner, Minally, M

all i want of the world, coming down, Inception (2010), Arthur/Eames, T+

burnout by Tattered_Dreams, The Maze Runner, Brenda/Gally, T+

makes a cathedral, him pressing against me by misandrywitch, Shameless (US), Gallavich, No Rating (and its companion! and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it by intimatelyrearranged)

Cold Storage by @sproutwings (sandrine shaw on ao3 -- also filled with great fics), the Flash TV, Iris West & Leonard Snart, T+

and for a woman wert thou first created by @hamartian-cathexis, The Maze Runner, Minewt, T+

this is what makes us girls by @its-tea-time-darling, TMR, Rachel/Sonya, E

Pinesong by aperplexingpuzzle, Legend of Zelda BOTW, Link/Revali, T+ (this ship came as such a surprise to me, but it's so good)

Stag and Wolf, Wyvern and Rabbit by deadlifts, Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Claude/Felix, M

Adagio by towine, Fire Emblem: Awakening, Owaine/Inigo, M

and I'm currently (while behind) REALLY enjoying two incomplete fics

ad nauseum by Order_Of_The_Forks, Dimension 20: Fantasy High, Riz Gukgak/Fabian Seacaster, T+

Stitches by nightmarechild, Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn, Rhys/Shinon, T+

These are all courtesy of the writers truth or dare! I love answering questions so thank you SO SO much for asking! if you want to ask more, just send me a message, I'm not shy <3

#ask box games #ask games #writers truth or dare #the maze runner #sandman #inception (2010)#the flash cw #dimension 20: fantasy high #stand by me #shameless (us)#SO MANY FIC RECS HERE YOU GO #fire emblem: three houses #fire emblem: awakening #fire emblem: path of radiance #and probably more

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yanderefairyangel · 8 months

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*sight*

Alright so I learned that the video I reblogged here to correct the OP's mistake on Sombron's past is not very well received from fans of the game and that a certain group of individual is saying that "Engage fans need to accept objective contrusctive critiscism and opens their eyes to the objective flaws of the game"...

And I will sound rude while saying this but can you please stop ?

While the OP that made the video didn't said anything really negative about Engage other then the fact it was badly promoted by IS and had a fierce competition on the markert and therefore don't deserves such a backlash, put yourself into our shoes for 2 seconds. And wonder how tiresome it must be for Engage fans to have to deal with people telling them everytime why the game they like sucks and why they are idiot for liking it.

Most Engage fans don't know where to find postivity for the game because the biggest blockbusters are post sheeting on it and tearing it to shreads. Each time a video on ytb releases, it's someone trying to explain "why Engage bad". There is not a single video about "why Engage good actually" (and if I had a ytb channel and could make a video I swear I would do it) and the few that exist have an Engage hatred crowed comming arguing with the OP they are wrong or an idiot for making it. And I'd also love to point out it doesn't matter if you like both 3H and Engage, it doesn't matter if at the end you think 3H has a better story then Engage, the moment you dare to say anything positive about this game, the moment you dare to like the villains or the characters, you will have a bunch of people writing essays on "why you are objectively wrong".

And might I add that up until now, not a single one of those video or essays or whatever you'll call it seems to be able to get the story without having ONE at least of the take being wrong. I see. Straight up wrong takes. In "critical essays". And no one NO ONE in the comment section will correct them. The fact that there is people to this day that still believe Zephia is Alear and Veyle's biological mother and no one will ever correct them on that one detail that NEVER existed in the story is baffling to say the least, depressing to say the most.

Keep in mind they are looking about positivity and never, never find a single safe space to see content where they can express their love for the story, gameplay or characters without some haters to show up and "try to own them" with "objective arguments" and what objective arguments ? They keep getting the story wrong somehow. And most of them admit that it's because they never played the game and even skipped the story or never played it again after that and they think their voice has some relevance ? They always manage to get one detail wrong, whether it's what one of the character says, do or acts or anything. It says a lot that someone is able to make a 2hour long video where they claimed that Alcryst attacking Alear is never explained even though IT LITERALY IS EXPLAINED WHY 2 SECONDS LATER but somehow NO ONE will try to correct them.

Also keep in mind that some will say "only people whose first game is Engage liked it" while other "only veterans (people here since Fe1) will like it" so basically never getting along on their reason to dislike it and then dragging people into it not caring about what they think or their background

This is not constructive criticism anymore, it's nothing but disguised bad faith.

And when you have some people like the OP who made the last video that is now being badly received that did like the story a bit and shares what they think is positive, you can rest assured that someone will come to tell them "yeahs ackshually you are wrong about liking this thing because this game is a failure and trash" and no body will correct the OP on that one small mistakes he made even though he seemed genuine and would have appreciate the corrections.

Keep in mind that Engage fans have to deal with those individual almost everytime, with now the new trend being people hyping over Unicorn overload and comparing it to Engage to say "Engage trash"

With all of this, now doesn't it makes more sense for Engage fans to be upset at the "construsctive criticism "? Because they are used now, used to the fact that whatever might await them won't be construsctive critics, but pure hatred. Engage fans aren't blind to the flaws of the game unlike what those people naively believe. Many Engage fans are critical of things that in the story they disliked or want some stuff to be improved. Many Engage fans thinks that the Manga is more competent then the game in the storytelling or thinks it is better overall. Many Engage fans can make fun of the story being somewhat clumsy in some scene of the game.

But they love the game for what it does right. And the game does a lot more thing right then people give it credit for.

They don't need someone to perpetually recommend them that video from XFeTuber because "see ? the game you like is trash and I am right to hate it !" because that is nothing but the attitude of a sheep. A sheep. FeTubers aren't God, they are just people with their own opinions and their own relationship to media. And most FEtuber I saw aren't that harsh on the game either because they like the gameplay, the characters and the gameplay or still enjoyed the story to bits. They are sharing their opinion, like everyone does.

So really, being this tired over the negativity would obviously lead to people not wanting to see anymore of those video that keeps blasting over youtube on "what went wrong with Engage" or "why did it fall off ?". You have no idea how tiresome it is to see those video everyday, the success that they have and the fact their bad and straight up wrong takes are being quoted by all the people who didn't liked it like good little sheeps.

It is no wonder that those fans would be more reluctant to share their opinion online and that so many comes to me telling me that they see so many negativity against this game they feel unsafe about the fact they liked it or ends up thinking they should be ashamed for thinking the narrative has some nice things to it.

And again, seeing how popular youtube is I would love to make a video on why Engage is actually good, but I won't, and not just because I don't want to end up in that cesspool, but because to explain why Engage good actually, it would take over 10 hours to get every point the game does well and in depth, a format tumblr is much easier for. You can say a lot, lot of thing in that plateform and going in depth of the subject without a time restriction. Because tell me, if there was an over 11h long video about why Engage good actually, do you really think people would view it ?

Compared to what I do, small post that all go in depth with some elements of Engage ? This format is easier and much more tolerable.

And I will also bring the fact that Engage gets constantly compared to 3H with obviously people praising it and this too gets on Engage's fans nerves. Most of them enjoyed both game and those who didn't liked Engage are telling them they have to choose and aren't allowed to like both. And then will go on saying that "Engage fans are getting their just deserves for sheeting on 3H" and where did they saw that because I have always witnessed the opposite ! 3H diehards sheeting on Engage ! There was even a FEtuber who made a series of video on a FE x Touhou fangame with someone commenting on how "Engage lost it sold less then 3H" and saying "it deserves to be forgotten and to have sold less" and blaiming it "for being an outiright failure that will kill the franchise". While always praising 3H. You really think it's not going to have people being tired of that game when they just want to move on ? Don't you think people are going to hate this game just because of how the fans behave ? Don't you think it is going to annoy people especially those who weren't sold in 3H's story ? It WILL and while sheeting on 3H just because the fans do it with Engage is stupid and will only perpetuate a circle of hatred, I don't see why people would be surprised that some people can't stand this game any longer. It says a lot that even people who didn't liked Engage are tired of those comparison or will try to discuss the game to attenuate those opinion all of this to get called names.

The fact that there is so few positivity about a game that's genuinely good is mentaly exhausting. It's the cause why the game is doing less good, that coupled with the post pandemic world and the competition. And people will obviously feel less safe talking about it online so either they avoid sharing their opinion online and enjoy it offline quietly, either they do it in private either in real life, you know, where you can't keep in track of someone's history, either they will try to look for positivity, give up and think they should just move on to another game.

This blog for instance is mainly about fanarts, I never intended to make any meta post and was just doing more Engage fancomics because I enjoyed it, but the negativity was to such a level I said stop and took my switch, and went on a deep deep deep dive to make those analysis and I am so glad I decided to do it because it helped me saw so many great thing in the writing and each time I replay it, I am always having more fun then for the 1st one. Most of the time I do am trying to spread positivity about this game and that's why I tend to avoid as much as possible to compare it to 3H because I am perfectly aware of the risk. The risk being that people will jump unto this to point it out as "loook, this is real coping, another Engage fan sheeting on 3H to say Engage better" because no. While I do enjoy Engage more and think it does better then 3H, none of my post are here to make this comparison, but to see what Engage really does good or wrong, and what I though were just redeeming qualitites kept on multiplying to the point it was obvious it is just a good game with some flaws in the story. And that those flaws are what people are focused on to make it sound like it has nothing to offer, or was made without heart, effort, love, fun or inspiration, which is straight up wrong. Say whatever you want about Komuro, but while the gameplay was admittedly the focus, she still cared about the story she was tasked to write and that is obvious with the care she put into Alear's writing in particular.

Also. Because even if I managed to prove 3H or all games bad but Engage, it won't show Engage is good. Just because a rotten apple is worse then a rotten carrot doesn't make it "good". If I have to show Engage is good, I have to focus on Engage and not deflecting by saying the others game as bad. A comparison can sometimes help to see what it does good, but it's no evidence at all that the game is good.

People are tired of the hatred this game received. It might not be underated, but God, is it overHATED. People can voice their opinion without presenting it as a fact, looking down upon the intelligence of others or thinking we are trying to excuse the flaws, but sorry, this is the current discussion that make it impossible for anyone to adress this story in the critical light, because people who didn't like it wants to hear it did nothing good, they refuse to view it as good but flawed, nor even as bad with redeeming qualities, but as nothing but a sloppy mess. So of course, no one would want to view this video any more. They don't. They know it's wasting their time, that's it's not offering constructive critics, but just... hatred.

I migh be spreading postive post discussing the story, but I alone isn't enough and I don't have a big plateform that everyone will click on like youtube to made my voice heard. I have just here and I am grateful that so many people follow me and thanks me for making them gave the game a second chance and allowing them to have a new opinion on it. But I know I am hard to find since tumblr isn't that popular anymore compared to X or ytb.

So that been said

Enjoy this video someone recommended me and give the video maker some love

youtube

#fe engage #fire emblem engage #fire emblem #Youtube

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thehighfiveproject · 2 years

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Round two: ready to go!

Here’s the card we’ll be using for this month’s edition of our bingo! Grab it up and get going. Remember, zero need to sign up, but if you want to share it with us so we can reblog and share the love, make sure you do so by next Wednesday, December 7.

Below the cut: a list of definitions for each of the squares in case you need help or ideas (don’t worry, those will be added to the FAQs post for easy reference), and a black & white version of the card, in case you want to get creative with it.

☆ How do I fill my card? How is each square defined?

Here’s the way we’re defining the activities associated with each card. If any of this is confusing after you read it over, send us a message and we’ll help!

- ‘leave kudos on a fic’

This is the easiest one! Just go out and find a fic you like and leave a kudos on it, if you haven’t already. It’s a small gesture but it makes an author know that someone actually read their story!

- ‘reblog/retweet an art post’

Find any art post you like and share it! Here’s the catch: you need to interact with it a little. When you reblog/retweet, please tell the creator what you thought about the piece – you can add some tags, or reply to the post, or quote-retweet or add a comment, or anything! A simple “I love this!” is nice but some details are even better (“your linework is so good!” or “that shade of blue is perfect”). One thing to think about: a lot of art on Tumblr is reposted (like when a user posts another artist’s work from Pixiv, say), so it’s nice if you make an effort to interact with posts that are actually from the creator if you can. That way the artist will see your comment!

- ‘reblog/retweet a fic post’

Same as the above, but for fic! Again, tags/replies/comments are needed, preferably with a little detail. You don’t need to be super eloquent or leave a detailed review (although if you have time/energy, that would be appreciated!); a tag as simple as “that was really cute” or “great characterization!” will do. Like with the art posts, it’s nice if you reblog directly from the writer (if you can) – some fics are posted by AO3 feed bots and the like, so the author may not even know a reblog has happened.

- ‘reblog/retweet an edit’

Same as the above, but for edits! Edits can include a gif set, or a set of screencaps, or even a fanvid. And, again, some simple tags/replies are needed. “I love that song choice!” for a vid or “great coloring!” on a gifset can let people know their work is being appreciated.

- ‘comment on a fic’

Find a fic, on any fic-hosting site you like, and leave a comment. That’s it! Again, no need to leave a novel-length comment (unless you’re inspired!) – a sentence or two is all we’re asking for this square to be considered complete. This is a great opportunity to let a writer know how their piece made you feel, or what section you particularly liked.

- ‘message a creator’

‘Creator’ here can mean anyone who makes *anything* to do with fandom: art, edits, fic, meta, knitted sweaters with character faces on them – if they’ve made anything, they’re a creator, and now’s your chance to let them know they’re appreciated. Send a message (anonymous or not!) letting them know that you enjoyed their work!

- ‘rec a curator’

You know that one blog that's just a joy to follow? They find and post all the stuff you love, whether that's art or fic or screencaps or really elaborate fan theories that just make you want to applaud. Maybe they write great tags that help you understand the fandom you're in a little better, or maybe they're in the know about what's happening in your fandom, or maybe they're just fun to see on your dashboard. This is your chance to rec a great fandom curator -- one of those people who put in the effort on tumblr to make your scroll a better place. Please make a little rec post, tag the blog and explain why they're a great follow, and show them that their work is appreciated, too!

- ‘promo a fan project’

Here's where you get to help boost the boosters. Fan projects are great: they encourage creators to get together and make more of the stuff that makes fandom fun to be in. Find any fan project you love -- this can be a brand new big bang, a kinkbingo that runs every year, an old art exchange that you loved and wish could happen again -- and then help people see it! Reblog their announcement post, their fic/art masterlist, make a little rec post for it and link to their blog/AO3 collection/Livejournal -- anything that lets people know that the project exists. Maybe you'll get more people to join in, or more people to admire the work, or maybe if it's an old or abandoned event you'll get people excited about running it again! Can't hurt to try.

And here’s the non-decorated version of the card, in case you feel like making it your own. Go hog wild! (Seriously, put hogs on it if you want.)