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mochamamii · 6 months

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yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

#nct yandere #yandere nct #yandere kpop #lee taeyong #kpop yandere #kim jungwoo #lee haechan #kim doyoung #johnny seo #mark lee #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #nct reactions

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nina-ya · 6 months

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Happy Birthday- Sanji Edition

A/N: This was written for the lovely @uminozerol for her very special day!! Happy birthday my love <3 Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: None WC: 1454

Sanji rose early on the morning of your birthday, driven by the desire to craft a perfect day for you. His plan was set: to surprise you with breakfast in bed, followed by a stroll along the beach, a gorgeous picnic featuring a delicately prepared mushroom risotto paired with an expensive bottle of red wine, all culminating in watching the breathtaking sunset together and sharing some delightful desserts. The grand finale of your special day was a handcrafted necklace adorned with a stunning topaz, a precious gem carefully fashioned by artisans on the island just for you. It was intended to be a perfect day, a gesture of affection meant to make your birthday unforgettable.

However, fate had other ideas. Just as Sanji finished preparing your breakfast in bed, some of the other crew members entered the kitchen, led by Luffy whose eyes immediately zeroed in on the spread meant exclusively for you. In the blink of an eye, Luffy devoured the breakfast, leaving Sanji visibly shocked and disheartened by the unexpected turn of events. Moreover, your unplanned arrival in the kitchen meant there was no chance for Sanji to quickly prepare another surprise. Determined not to let the morning lose its sparkle, he proceeded to carefully prepare a fresh breakfast, serving it to you with enthusiasm, a radiant smile adorning his face as he warmly greeted you with a cheerful, "Happy birthday."

As the day unfolded, Sanji clung to the hope that the unexpected morning mishap could be salvaged. "It's okay," he reassured himself, determined to carry out the remainder of his plans. He threw himself into the kitchen, preparing the white mushroom risotto that was a part of the day's intended feast. He also took the time to bake a batch of vanilla cupcakes, accompanied by some smooth vanilla frosting, knowing full well that they were your absolute favorite.

To maintain the element of surprise, Sanji had orchestrated a diversion, sending Nami and Robin with you to explore the island and take you shopping. While you were away, he set the mushroom risotto to cook.

A burst of chaos erupted. A group of pirates attempted to invade the Thousand Sunny, forcing Sanji and the rest of the crew to respond swiftly and protect the ship. They defeated the intruders with little difficulty, but the time they spent dealing with the pirates allowed a thick cloud of smoke to billow from the kitchen, signaling the unfortunate demise of the risotto.

Sanji's irritation was palpable as he surveyed the scene, shaking his head in disbelief, feeling that the day couldn't possibly get any worse. Sanji frantically ransacked his brain, searching for any way to save the day. His thoughts fell on the dessert, the precious cupcakes that he had so carefully baked and topped with vanilla frosting – a beacon of hope among the challenges he had faced. He was determined to make the best of the situation.

Opening the fridge with a sense of urgency, he reached for the cupcakes to complete the last piece of the puzzle, breathing a sigh of relief at the prospect of redeeming the day. But as he gazed inside, the heart-wrenching sight that met his eyes left him in disarray. The cupcake tray lay in shambles, its contents devoured or strewn about the fridge. Bits and pieces of cupcake mingled with the remnants of vanilla frosting, an explosive mess.

The scene left him in an absolute state of distress, a mix of desperation and rage surging through him. In a frantic panic to salvage what remained, Sanji sifted through the wreckage of cupcakes and frosting, hoping and praying for a glimmer of hope. To his relief, he managed to retrieve a single uneaten cupcake from the scene.

He rushed to create a fresh batch of frosting, working quickly to decorate the lone cupcake with as much care as he could muster. Time was of the essence as he put the final touches on his makeshift dessert before you returned to the Thousand Sunny, his commitment to making your birthday special unshaken despite the day's unexpected setbacks.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the night sky with its final hues and casting shimmering stars, you finally returned to the Thousand Sunny. Nami and Robin, who knew Sanji's surprise plans for your birthday, had directed you to meet him in the kitchen for your special birthday dinner. Filled with anticipation, you hurriedly made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of the foods Sanji might have prepared to celebrate your special day.

With anticipation, you swung open the door, your eyes brimming with excitement. However, the sight that greeted you was unexpected. A single candle cast a soft, gentle glow, bathing the kitchen in a warm luminescence. In the faint light, you could just make out Sanji, who held a single cupcake, his nervousness obvious.

He approached you, nervously carrying the cupcake, his voice trembling as he began to explain. "I, uh, had this whole plan to make the perfect day for you. I was going to start with breakfast in bed, and then, well, we should have been on the beach by now for dinner, but, you see, everything got ruined," he stammered, his nerves taking over.

A tender smile graced your lips as you observed the cupcake and the flickering candle. With a gentle exhale, you leaned forward and closed your eyes, extinguishing the candle's flame with your breath. The darkness momentarily silenced Sanji's rambling, enveloping the two of you in a quiet moment.

He resumed his explanation with a touch of regret, "I'm really sorry that I couldn't do more for you—"

But before he could finish, you silenced him, leaning in and enveloping him in a sweet, tender kiss. Breaking the kiss, you offered your soft and heartfelt response, "Sanji, this is absolutely perfect."

Sanji, if visible in the dark, would be seen blushing profusely, a deep crimson hue painting his face. He stood there, frozen, almost as if the kiss had rendered him momentarily speechless. However, your soft laughter broke through the quiet air. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, and cautiously diverted the conversation, “Uh, so, what did you wish for?”

In response, you playfully teased, “That's for me to know and for you to find out,” a smile evident in your voice.

Sanji laughed softly, the tension dissolving, “Yeah, forgot the whole ‘keep your wish a secret’ thing.” He suggested wine, and upon your agreement, he navigated the darkened kitchen to retrieve a bottle of red wine and glasses. Leading you to the deck of the Thousand Sunny, he settled by your side. Pouring wine into glasses, he presented one to you. You both indulged in your birthday cupcake, savoring every bite of the sweet delight, washing it down with the wine.

As the night deepened, the ambiance aboard the Thousand Sunny grew more peaceful. The night sky above was decorated with shimmering stars. Wrapped in the serene embrace of the night, you and Sanji continued to enjoy each other's company, sipping wine, laughter reverberating across the deck, leading to a comforting and intimate scene, the passage of time marked by the emptying wine bottle.

As you both sat on the deck, the necklace, a masterpiece of intricate craftsmanship, lay cradled in his hand, its radiant topaz gem gleaming in the sunlight. Sanji leaned closer, his voice tender and filled with affection, as he said, "I have a little something for you," He then gently placed the necklace around your neck, letting the cool touch of the gem grace your skin. It sparkled brightly, a reflection of the joy and admiration in his eyes as he fastened the clasp.

You couldn't help but gasp in surprise as Sanji presented the topaz necklace. Its elegance was striking, and you were taken aback by the thoughtful gesture. The gem sparkled against the warmth of the moonlight, and as he delicately secured the clasp around your neck, you felt the smooth, cool touch of the gem against your skin. Overwhelmed by the beauty of the necklace and touched by his heartfelt gesture, you turned to him with a beaming smile, expressing your gratitude. "Sanji, it's stunning," you said, touched by the thoughtful gift. "Thank you so much. It's perfect."

Lying side by side, gazing up at the star-studded sky, the gentle ocean breeze whispered secrets of the sea as the ship bobbed steadily. As sleep began to claim the night, you nestled into a comfortable position, resting your head on Sanji's chest. He planted a soft, tender kiss on your forehead. "Happy birthday," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the night's calm, before succumbing to sleep beside you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji

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hayatheauthor · 9 months

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A Step-by-Step Guide to Crafting a Compelling Storyline

I'll warn you, this is a long one. I kind of took 'comprehensive guide' a little too seriously.

You have a fantastic concept burning at the edges of your imagination, a collection of characters whispering their stories to you, and a world just waiting to be explored. But how do you weave all these elements into a story that grips readers and refuses to let go? The answer lies in effective plot planning.

A well-crafted plot isn't just a sequence of events; it's a carefully orchestrated symphony that takes readers on an unforgettable ride. Whether you're an experienced writer or someone trying to start their first book, here are my personal steps to crafting a compelling storyline with good plot planning.

Step 1: Idea Generation and Conceptualization

Every great story begins with a spark of inspiration. It's that moment when an idea ignites in your mind and beckons you to explore its potential. The journey from a fleeting thought to a fully-fledged concept is an exhilarating one, and it all starts with idea generation and conceptualization.

Techniques for Idea Generation

Mind Mapping

Grab a piece of paper or use a digital tool to create a mind map. Write your central idea in the middle and branch out with related concepts, characters, themes, and settings. Mind mapping can help you visualize the connections and possibilities within your idea.

Bullet journalling

Bullet journalling is my personal favourite way to generate ideas for your WIP. Get a piece of paper or open a Word/Docs document and create three different sections: world, characters, and plot. Now add facts to each of those sections that you've come up with so far.

You can even go a step ahead and create more detailed sections, for example, you could do this for your different characters or different places in your world. Usually, one bullet point leads to the next and once you have an idea of everything you've already established you'll naturally start adding more to it.

Blurting

Talk to someone about your WIP, or pretend that you're talking to someone and write down everything that comes to mind. You can even use AI tools like ChatGPT and ask it to hold a conversation with you about your WIP. Tell it to ask you questions along the way, this will get the wheels turning and even help fill plot holes.

Prompts and Challenges

Explore writing prompts or challenges to spark your creativity. Websites, books, or even random word generators can provide the nudge you need to generate fresh ideas.

Refining Your Concept

Once you have a collection of ideas, it's time to refine and shape them into a cohesive concept.

Identify Themes

What themes or messages do you want to convey through your story? Is it a tale of redemption, the power of friendship, or the consequences of ambition? Pinpointing your core themes will guide your storytelling and also give you a clear image of the end goal.

Find Your Angle

Consider what makes your idea unique. How can you approach a familiar concept from a fresh perspective? For example, if you're doing a classic murder mystery, what makes your book different from others? Take some time to look up titles similar to your WIP and find any repetitive themes/patterns.

Maybe most murder mysteries end with the partner being the killer, or maybe the fantasy books written in the same mythology as your WIP's all involve a war. Knowing what is currently a popular trend in the market can give you a clear idea of where you can be different from comparable titles. This is especially important for genres like horror and romance.

Develop a Premise

Your premise is the foundation of your story. It's the "what if?" question that drives your narrative. For instance, "What if an ordinary high school student discovers they have the ability to control time?" You need to have a solid premise before you even think about writing your story.

Step 2: Character Development and Motivation

Characters are the beating heart of your story, and crafting them with depth and authenticity is key to creating a narrative that truly captivates. Your characters often leave more of a lasting impact on your readers than the plot itself.

Think of it this way: a good plot will get you readers, but memorable characters will get you fans. Some of the largest communities in the book space all run on the readers' fondness for certain characters rather than the story itself. Yes, your story and the way you tell it is very important, but nobody wants to listen to the story of a boring person.

Bringing Characters to Life

Personal Histories

Delve into your characters' pasts. What experiences shaped them into who they are today? A traumatic childhood or a life-changing event can influence their motivations and behaviours. Maybe your antagonist has a soft spot for single parents because their mother was the only person who cared for them. Maybe the love interest seems like a sunshine character because they feel the need to always seem put-together and perfect.

Physical Traits

This might sound obvious enough, after all a character's appearance is the first thing people think of when visualising, however, many authors fail to have a clear image of their character's physical traits which can lead to inconsistent or boring descriptions. Sure, your protagonist can have bushy hair and brown eyes, but what else?

Think about their body type, height, fashion sense, the way they carry themselves, walk, and sound. Do they have a random mole at the back of their neck? Do they always smell like a certain perfume because their dead father gifted it to them? It's important for you to have a clear image of who you're writing.

Strengths and Flaws

Just like real people, characters have strengths and weaknesses. These traits affect their decisions and interactions. A courageous hero might also struggle with recklessness, adding complexity to their personality. It's easy to create 2D characters by using tropes or shallow descriptions 'an all-powerful villain' 'the chosen one who trained their whole life and is perfect', but 3D characters are what will actually catch your readers' attention.

There's a reason why people often love the grey characters, the anti-heroes or anti-villains. Those who have complex personalities that make them seem human. This makes us empathise with the characters, and as a writer, it also helps you think of your characters as real people with flaws and problems.

Motivations: The Why Behind the What

Goals and Desires

What do your characters want? Their goals drive the plot forward. A detective's desire to solve a mystery or a scientist's quest for a groundbreaking discovery sets the narrative in motion. Why is your protagonist doing what they are doing?

You could simply give yourself a generic answer like 'they want to save the people' or 'they're a good person' but this can lead to confusion in the long run. If as the writer you yourself can't understand your character's goals it will get very hard to showcase them to your readers. Try to pick apart each character and genuinely consider why they are the way they are.

Inner Conflicts

Characters often grapple with inner turmoil – the clash between their desires, values, and fears. This inner conflict adds layers of intrigue and reliability. Maybe your protagonist realises the antagonist's qualms with the government are actually valid and suffers from moral conflicts as they contemplate whether or not they are the 'good guy'. Inner conflict adds dimension to your characters which in turn makes it easier for your readers to empathise with them.

Step 3: Outlining the Key Plot Points

Now that you have a clear idea of what you want to write and who you want to write it with, it's time to consider the how. You have a story, but how do you want to tell it? Break down the key plot points that shape your narrative, creating a roadmap that guides your characters through their trials and triumphs.

The Building Blocks of Plot

The Inciting Incident

The spark that ignites your story. It's the moment when your protagonist's world is disrupted, setting them on a path of change. For example, in "The Hunger Games," Katniss Everdeen's sister being chosen for the Games is the inciting incident that propels her into the arena.

This can be a little harder to recognise in genres outside of SFF and horror. For a thriller novel, this moment could be the moment your protagonist uncovers a sketchy detail in their relative's death. In romance, it could be the moment your protagonist is introduced to the love interest.

Turning Points

These are pivotal moments that shift the course of your narrative. They introduce new challenges, reveal secrets, or force characters to make crucial decisions. Think of them as the gears that keep your story machine turning. It's important to have some sort of turning point in your story to keep things interesting.

Maybe the character your protagonist was suspecting throughout the first half of the book ends up having a solid alibi, or a seemingly innocent character suddenly seems sketchy.

The Climax

The peak of tension and conflict. It's the moment your characters face their biggest challenge and must make their ultimate choice. In "The Lord of the Rings," the climactic battle at Mount Doom decides the fate of Middle-earth. In a murder mystery, this can be the moment the real killer is unveiled, or in a rom-com, it could be when the love interest moves to a new city to follow the protagonist.

Falling Action and Resolution

As your story winds down, the falling action ties up loose ends and provides closure. Readers witness the aftermath of the climax, and the characters' arcs find resolution. This is the bit where you make sure you aren't leaving any plot holes behind. Remember that random character your protagonist suspected at the start of the book? What's their alibi, why did they suddenly get out of the picture?

Structuring Plot Points

Introduction of Stakes

Introduce what your characters stand to gain or lose early on. This creates a sense of urgency that propels them forward. What if your protagonist fails to complete their missions? What if the detective never unveils the killer's identity? What if your protagonist doesn't win over the love interest? Show your readers the worst possible outcome early on so they know why they should be rooting for your protagonist.

This doesn't necessarily have to be something big or scary. In Harry Potter, many of us wanted Harry to stay at Hogwarts because his life with the Dursleys was cruel and he deserved happiness. That was a small yet significant stake that made the readers empathetic and silently root for Harry.

Foreshadowing and Setup

Plant seeds of future events throughout your story. Foreshadowing builds anticipation and adds depth, making later plot developments more satisfying. I have written a lot of blogs that either cover or briefly mention foreshadowing so I'm going to keep this point a little short.

Foreshadowing helps your readers slowly piece everything together and have that 'I knew it!' or 'how did I not see this coming?' moment. It might also encourage them to turn back and reread your work to focus on the little hints you left throughout the book. Foreshadowing is especially important in murder mysteries.

Step 4: Subplots and Secondary Storylines

Subplots and secondary storylines are the secret ingredients that transform a good story into an unforgettable masterpiece. They add layers of intrigue, provide character development opportunities, and keep readers eagerly turning pages. If you're confused about what is a subplot and how to create one you can visit my previous blog that focuses on this topic.

The Role of Subplots

Enriching Character Arcs

Subplots allow secondary characters to shine. They can showcase different facets of your characters' personalities, revealing their strengths, weaknesses, growth, and relationships.

Theme Reinforcement

Subplots can explore and reinforce your story's themes from various angles. For instance, a romantic subplot can underscore the theme of love and sacrifice, in turn making your protagonist’s heroic death at the end of the novel seem more impactful. We all know Pepper’s reaction to Tony’s death in End Game made the moment more emotional.

While creating subplots and considering which one might be relevant to your book you should think of how this subplot would impact your end goal and whether it would help emotionally connect with your readers.

Parallel Journeys

Subplots can create parallel journeys that mirror or contrast with the main plot. This dynamic adds depth and resonance to your storytelling. Maybe the antagonist’s assistant has a similar backstory to your protagonist but while the protagonist was rescued by the government they were taken in by the antagonist. As the two geniuses face each other your protagonist can’t help but consider whether they would still be fighting for the ‘good’ side had their roles been switched.

Balancing The Main Plot and Subplots

Interconnectedness

Subplots shouldn't feel disconnected from the main plot. Instead, they should interact and influence each other, creating a harmonious narrative flow. Your subplot could help bring a satisfactory end to a certain arc of your story, or it could sow the roots for the important climactic moment of your book.

Pacing and Tension

Strategically introduce subplots to maintain pacing and tension. They can provide moments of relief or heightened drama, enhancing the overall reading experience.

Character Integration

Ensure that characters involved in subplots maintain relevance to the main plot. Their actions and decisions should contribute to the overarching story, even as they pursue their own paths. You should also think about whether or not your character is overshadowing the protagonist. In Harry Potter there were several characters such as Ginny, Luna and Neville with subplots and backstories of their own, however, they never overshadowed Harry’s tale.

Step 5: Crafting Scenes and Sequences

Welcome to the realm where the magic truly comes to life – crafting scenes that resonate, captivate, and propel your story forward. Scenes are the building blocks of your narrative, each one a window into your characters' world and emotions. They help infuse your story with tension, emotion, and unforgettable moments.

Again, this is a topic I’ve covered separately in another blog so I won’t go into too much detail here.

Scene Structure and Elements

Objective and Conflict

Every scene should have a purpose – a clear objective that drives the characters. Introduce conflict that challenges their goals and motivations, creating tension that keeps readers engaged.

Emotion and Stakes

Characters' emotions are the heartbeats of scenes. Amplify emotions by highlighting what's at stake for the characters. Whether it's a heated argument or a tender moment, emotions draw readers in.

Sequences: Crafting a Flow

Cause and Effect

Scenes connect through cause and effect. Each scene's outcome sets the stage for the next, creating a seamless flow that propels the narrative. A character's choice in one scene can reverberate and shape subsequent events.

Rising Action

Craft sequences with escalating tension. The stakes should intensify, drawing characters deeper into challenges and dilemmas. This creates a sense of anticipation that keeps readers eagerly turning pages.

Step 6: Mapping the Journey: Creating a Visual Plot Outline

Visualising your plot, characters, and world can be very hard sometimes. Let's be honest, words can only do so much and if you don't have a clear idea of what you want to show your readers you can end up going down a path of 'telling' them everything. This can take away from the point of your story and end up boring your readers. If you find it hard to visualise where you're going with your book, here are some tips that can help.

Visual Tools for Plot Planning

Timelines and Flowcharts

Create a timeline that outlines the sequence of major events, from inciting incidents to resolution. Flowcharts visually depict the interconnectedness of plot points, making it easy to track the evolution of your story. You can also cut out or add bits depending on how far along you are. This will also help you keep track of what scene/development should be introduced when and why.

Index Cards or Post-Its

Write down key scenes, plot developments, and character arcs on individual index cards or sticky notes. Arrange and rearrange them on a board or wall to visualize the narrative's flow. You can also do this if you're confused about the climax of your novel by adding different ideas to the post-its and putting them alongside the rest of the book's plot to see what things would look like from a reader's perspective.

Infusing Creativity

Playlists

Curate a playlist that captures the mood and emotions of your story. Music has the power to transport you to the heart of your narrative, helping you channel the right atmosphere while plotting. You can listen to this playlist every time you sit down to write WIP. With time, this will also help you overcome writer’s block since you can put on this playlist every time you struggle to get into the right writing mindset.

Moodboards/Pinterest Boards

Create a visual feast by collecting images, aesthetics, and visuals that embody your story's essence. Platforms like Pinterest allow you to craft moodboards that serve as visual touchstones. I would recommend creating a separate pinboard for every character so you can get a clear idea of their vibe and appearance. You can even refer to these every time you're writing about or from the perspective of a new character.

Step 7: Flexibility and Adaptability

As you embark on your writing journey, remember that stories have a life of their own. Embracing flexibility and adaptability is your compass through uncharted territories.

Allow characters to surprise you, let plots pivot, and themes emerge. Balancing structure with spontaneity ensures a dynamic narrative that resonates deeply. Listen to your characters, explore ethical complexities, and evolve alongside your story.

By staying open to the unexpected, you infuse your writing with authenticity and richness. Your plot outline is a guide, but your characters and themes have the power to shape the course. Embrace the unpredictable, and watch your story flourish beyond your imagination.

I hope this blog on A Step-by-Step Guide to Crafting a Compelling Storyline will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

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rottenroyalebooks · 2 years

Text

My Girlfriend is a Witch

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Witch!Reader

Warnings: None! Maybe a sware or two.

Genre: Real Person Fic, Fluff

A/N: This has been in my drafts for quite some time so here is a quick little Corpse Husband Fic. I havent written on here in so long due to my life crumbling under my feet. I have done a lot of research for this but I am NOT 100% sure of everything just yet. I’m not apart of Paganism myself, but I respect everyone that is!

***

“Y/N, you did not just walk into this apartment with another Crystal.” The tone of her boyfriend made her freeze as she walked into the apartment, an all too familiar plastic bag hanging from from her elbow and her face morphed into an innocent smile.

“No... not another Crystal.” She shuffled into the kitchen and placed the bag on the counter top so she could remove the items from her bag and place the plastic bag in the bag full of bags that the two keep under the sink.

“Let me guess, herbs?” Corpse asked, approaching his girlfriend with a small smirk on his face.

She shook her head, “Nope.”

“Candles?”

“Negative, ghost rider.”

“Please tell me it’s not incents again, last time you cleansed the apartment I sneezed like crazy for a week.” His pleading eyes made Y/N laugh in delight.

The pair have been dating for two years and have lived together for five months. The transition of living on his own to living full time with his spiritual witchy girlfriend had been kind of difficult. He wasn’t aware about how serious she was about her craft, so when he opened one of her boxes and found some kind of rodent bones in a small clear container, saying he was surprised would have been an understatement

Though as they started to get used to the new arrangement, he was able to learn a thing or two about what she does and how she lived. Kind of like how she just loved bringing home a new Crystal almost every time she stepped out the apartment. It was getting overwhelming at this point.

Y/N smiled up at him and pulled a small black velvet pouch out of the bag, “Okay, I lied, it is a crystal but it’s not what you think! I had something made for you!”

He rose an eyebrow and he smirked, “Oh yeah?” He held out the palm of his hand and smiled as she placed the pouch down gently.

He opened the pouch and carefully removed a black sleek ring from the pouch and his eyes lit up, “A ring? This is a crystal?” He asked and she nodded, excitement in her eyes.

“I know playing with your rings helps with your anxiety and Hematite, this ring, is supposed to help deflect negative energies in stressful situations.” She explained and put her hand into her pocket, pulling out one of his other rings that he thought he had misplaced a few weeks prior.

“I didn’t know your ring size and if I asked it would have ruined the surprise so I took one of yours to bring to Maggie.”

He chuckled, sliding the ring on his left ring finger, “I love it, thank you.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest.

“Aren’t you playing Among Us with your friends today?” She asked as she took a glimpse at the time.

He looked at the clock on the oven as well, sighing as he placed his chin on the top of Y/N’s head, “I do. Are you going back out?” He asked letting her go and watching as she went back to the bag.

“Nope! I got a new Tarot deck while I was there because my old deck vanished. I need to break it in and cleanse the cards. I might try to communicate with Aphrodite or Hades, but they really liked my old deck so I am not sure if they’ll react well to this new one.” She rambled as she crumbled up the empty bag and placed it under the sink.

“Be careful.” He said as he turned around and made his way to his recording room.

***

As the third game came to an end, a few of his friends were taking the time to talk with their streams, Corpse wasn’t streaming he was just there for his friends. He was talking with Sean, who was also not streaming at the time.

“Oh! Corpse! I found your girlfriend’s Instagram account! I didn’t know she was into Witchcraft.” Rae’s voice piped up as her little astronaut came running over to the two.

Corpse smiled at his computer monitor, even though they couldn’t see him, “Yeah she’s Pagan, I believe.” He said glancing over at the girl in question who had wandered into his streaming room, noise cancelling headphones on and Tarot Deck in hand. Her tounge was poking out from in between her lips as she concentrated on her reading.

“Her profile is so aesthetically pleasing! Can I follow her?”

He let out a small chuckle, “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just be wary if you ask her for a tarot reading; the cards can be quite cutthroat. She’s still doing research as to who her spirit guide could be, but whoever they are, absolutely brutal.” He shivered at the memory of when Y/N gave him a reading around when they first started dating, let’s just say it didn’t go too well.

“You seem to know a lot about this stuff.” Sykunno said and the others agreed.

“I just listen when she talks about it, because she enjoys it and it makes her happy.” He glanced over at the girl one more time as her phone lit up next to her.

“I followed her.”

“Me too!” Sean said and he laughed, “She bought you a ring? Dude she is so adorable.”

“Rae what’s her username?” Sykunno asked.

“I’ll text it to you.” Corpse said, grabbing his phone from the desk and glancing over at her once again; her eyes were still glued to the cards almost frozen in place.

"What else does she like to do?" Lily's voice popped up, he hummed lightly.

"Well she loves crystals and has been looking into palm reading, there's a shop nearby that she's been visiting recently and now my apartment is being taken over by crystals and incense." Everyone laughed at that.

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

#writers of tumblr #fanfiction #rottenroyalebooks #rottenwrites #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #Corpse Husband #corpse fic #sean mcloughlin #youtubers #corpse husband fanfiction

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girl-next-door-writes · 7 months

Text

You Matter To Me

Characters: Steve Harington x reader

Summary: A shared moment before heading into the Upside Down where you and Steve both reflect on what is important.

Word Count: 1000 words

Prompt: You Matter To Me

A/N: I have been going through some ‘real world’ stuff recently and this song showed up on my radar again and despite the million fics I have to write I felt this needed to be written. It isn’t perfect, I couldn’t find all the words, but if you are reading this then I want you to know that you matter.

Nobody should have this much pressure placed on them, and yet he had taken it almost willingly. The role of leader, of protector, it weighed heavy on his shoulders, and although he hid it well, there were flashes of the truth hidden in those beautiful, soulful eyes; eyes you could happily get lost in, even on the worst days, perhaps especially on the worst days. Their warm richness comforting, even though the slivers of profound sadness swam in their depths. Each horror he had witnessed haunted him, words left unsaid and yet screaming as the two of you looked at each other. Insecurity, doubt, the fragility of his carefully crafted self-confident persona swam in those sad eyes, shattering your heart into a million pieces.

There were no words. The painful realization that nothing said could make things any better, caused a deep ache in your soul. Taking a seat beside him, you simply shuffled closer, tucking yourself into his side and slipping your hand into his. Interlacing your fingers, you looked down at your hands, silently vowing to stay right there by his side for as long as he would let you.

This beautiful boy had gotten under your skin, and although your emotions for him were largely undefined, he mattered to you. He was important. He was…irrevocably connected to you. How do you even begin to tell someone that? It isn’t as simple as those three overused words, and it was deeper than a romantic desire. You saw him, just as he truly was, and knew that he was enough, that your life was infinitely improved by his existence. Did he know that? Was he aware of how he touched everyone’s life? You felt an almost overwhelming desire to grip him by the shoulders and shake him until he understood that he was so much more than he believed; that he truly did matter. But instead, the two of you sat in silence, holding hands and watching the others preparing.

Steve stole a glance at you, allowing himself a moment to just be a nineteen-year-old boy, sitting holding hands with someone he cared about. It was a little addictive spending time with you. There was just something about the way you listened to him, like you heard all the parts he didn’t say out loud, and you didn’t think he was stupid or broken.

He had a close friendship with Robin, he adored his best friend, and then there were the ‘kids’, and Nancy; well, the Nancy thing was complicated. Now he also had Eddie… All these people depending on him, needing him to step up and take the lead. There was a part of him that wanted to run, to just get in his car and drive away from this hellhole and start over. If he’d gone to college then he wouldn’t be here for this shit, this would be someone else’s problem. The guilt of that thought gnawed at him and he subconsciously squeezed your hand. He was scared, but he knew he couldn’t turn his back, he would never forgive himself.

There was something different about this fight, a shadow in the back of his mind that said they might not all make it. Looking around at his friends, he felt his heart clench. They all mattered. Dustin would probably go on to cure some deadly disease or figure out a way for everyone to live on the moon or some shit. Lucas, he had a shot at becoming a pro athlete, if he focused. Nancy had a bright future as a journalist maybe, blowing the lid off government corruption and saving people… Each and every one of them had such potential to make a real difference in the world. The only person he could even consider disposable in the grand scheme of things, was himself. This might be the one thing, the moment where he might be of some importance, making sure the rest of them got through.

He was brought out of his thoughts by your head resting on his shoulder. It was such a small gesture but it grounded him, and he found himself leaning down, his cheek pressing against your hair as he closed his eyes.

“Steve?” Your voice was so quiet that he could easily have imagined that you had spoken.

“Yeah?”

“You matter to me. More than all this. More than most people.” Your words hung in the air between the two of you and he felt a tear roll down his cheek.

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. Don’t go doing anything ‘heroic’, because if something happens to you then I’m just gonna have to make a deal with the devil, or bring you back as a zombie or something, and then you’ll be screwed. You will feel my wrath.”

“Your wrath?” he chuckled, an eyebrow raising in amusement as he opened his eyes again.

“Yes, my wrath. I will be incredibly pissed at you for doing something so stupid, and for leaving me, and then making me learn voodoo so I can bring you back to yell at you.”

“Yeah, that does seem like it might be a bit of a hassle.”

“A major one. So, just promise me you will try your best to see me on the other side of all this because, for some fucked up reason Harrington, you really matter to me.”

“Okay.” He said softly, his fingers playing with yours as he took your words to heart. Turning his head slightly, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and let out a deep sigh. “And, for the record, you matter to me too.”

You didn’t reply, you didn’t have to. It was obvious that the feelings between the two of you were simultaneously infinitely complex and so simple. Hopefully there would be time to explore each and every nuance of what it meant to matter to each other, but for now, Steve was content to just sit beside you and feel.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #gndw fic

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shhh-secret-time · 14 days

Note

hello ^^, i saw your secret soulmate au about craig, i don't have the words to explain how much i giggled, twirled my hair and everything XD! well, when you have the time, could you do a craig x clyde x reader smut? of course, if you feel comfortable with it! reader can be female or gn. it's practically normal smut but just craig fucking the reader from behind and clyde from the front, so that's it! tysm for reading, i love your writing too! <33 -✨️ Anon (I'm still new to tumblr so i might get confused on some things sometimes!)

Completely understandable, I too am confused with how tumblr works and I've been on this godless site since fucking Dash Con. I'm glad you liked the way I wrote those dorks! And thank you for fueling my Clyde agenda!

Warning: NSFW, Strong-Language, Dirty Talk, Slight Sub/Dom dynamics, blow jobs, orgasm denial, threesome

Pairing: Clyde x Fem!Reader x Craig

The sweet air of the votives swirls around the empty church. Empty except for the dim orange and red light that illuminates the book in the man's hand.

A woman at his feet, clothed in fine silks. A mix of reds and whites that twine together. Beautiful patterns of stars flow across the dress.

She dips her head in prayer alongside the man. The father of the church glides his fingers across her cheek as her mouth closes. Reciting scriptures of one's devotion for an unseen God. Everything in that moment was peaceful.

The warmth in the Father's eyes doesn't go unnoticed, the greens darken with a desire that he knows better than to have. It's difficult to hide the growing ache in his pants. More so when the woman's lips curl into a mischief smile, the warm glow of the candles makes them shine with an otherworldly glow. She looks up at him and her eyes fall deep into those pools of lust. Her hands break apart from that folded prayer and onto his black dress pants. They card up further against his thighs where they settle and clutch the material.

"Father, bless me...", a whisper that makes the Father groan.

Temptation never looked so sweet. This woman made his chest pound. Unholy thoughts flood his mind and go straight to his-

You let out a loud groan. Your forehead drops and hits the table beside your keyboard. The forgotten mug with now cold tea rattles.

Writer’s block, the very bane of any author’s existence. It's been haunting you for weeks now, making it impossible to get anything done. You've been stuck on this part of your romance novel the entire time. A part you were so excited to get to!

The buildup was perfect! You had calculated, plotted, and carefully crafted a budding romance between a witch and a holy man. A forbidden romance that took place within the walls of the church, the furthest outside the walls it went were the gardens that surrounded the area. The two fell in love after he saved her from the townsfolk claiming sanctuary.

Inspiration struck you like lightning after you fell in love with your partners. After publishing a sci-fi series, that honestly changed the name of how science fiction would be written forever, you met two fans at a book signing event. You had made a surprise appearance at a local library in some little town called South Park. Coming from the big city yourself, it was a huge surprise that anyone in the little town would actually be a fan of yours.

Apparently, you had quite a few. A man with bright red hair who had a black-haired man following alongside him. Both gushed about how the story inspired some kind of board game they played with their friends. A sweet blond woman who had the cutest southern accent you've ever heard. She gave you a piece of fan mail that had the most adorable sticker on it. Another black-haired man who dressed as Spock for some reason. He went on for a solid thirty minutes about a fanfic he wrote regarding the main character of your book and Star Trek's very own Captain Kirk.

Finally came the oddest duo you had ever met. The two were like day and night, a cat and a dog, fire and ice; the whole nine yards. A bright smile with baby brown eyes on one, and an ice-cold deadpan look with amber eyes to match on the other. At first you thought the brown-haired one was your fan and the man with the blue hat was just along for the ride.

"Haha! No way! I'm not into that..." He paused as if to stop himself from saying something he shouldn't, "...kinda stuff."

"That kind of stuff?" You repeat back at him, raising a brow.

"He means reading. He doesn't know how." The other spoke putting a hand on top of his head. With a little push he forced the brown-haired man's head down.

You giggled at that. The protests coming from the poor man was comical. You almost felt sorry for him, watching him struggle to move the taller man's hand off.

"Then I take it I'm signing this book out to you?" With a click of your pen, you look up at him.

The NASA jacket on the bright blue sleeves of his jacket should have given it away honestly. There's was a small tinge of a blush on his tan cheeks, almost hidden under the skin tone but you were able to make it out under the light. He looked away for a moment before nodding at you.

"Yeah."

"Name?"

"His name is Craig! He's a huge fan of yours by the way! So, if you could write something sweet for him that'd be awesome!" His friend chirped at you as he broke free from Craig's grip.

Craig's face twisted, those piercing eyes of his narrowed down. Before he could reach and grab him, the brown-haired man slid behind your chair. Putting his hand on your chair, he bent down to your level and tapped the blank white page.

"As you can see my big guy has a baaaaaad case of resting bitch face."

"Clyde..." the warning that slipped out of Craig's mouth made a shiver roll down your spine. It was even directed at you, and you felt threatened.

"So, you gotta imagine my surprise when he came home smiling! I was shocked! He didn't even smile when we started going out!" Clyde ignored him, an attest to his bravery. Or foolishness. Either way he continued, leaning down next to your ear. "Your book made him so happy, so it makes me happy. Think you could do that for me? Because he'll never ask you to do it for him."

You look up at him for a while, not even bothered that he had gotten closer to your face as he spoke. The browns in his eyes flickered with mischief but there were layers of love behind them. Chocolate that seemed to melt into tiny hearts when he spoke about Craig. It was honestly sweet, even if he was trying to tease his partner.

"How can I say no to that? I'd love to." You smiled at him and began writing on the empty page.

Yeah, who would have thought that fate would tie you to those two like that. Falling in love with Craig and Clyde was nothing like what they wrote in books or movies. It was a tornado of events that landed you in the eye of it all.

Despite their polar opposite personalities and looks, the two worked off each other well. Then when you got thrown in the middle, you filled in a little spot they desperately needed.

Clyde was social enough for the three of you. He was the one who reminded you and Craig that you needed to get out of the house. When you lock yourself away in your office, he would drag you out with a fun date idea. Movie nights, football games, arcade dates, and his favorite late-night walks. Doing the same to Craig who always seemed buried in work.

Craig gave off such scary dog privilege that you and Clyde never felt threatened. You could take those late-night walks with Clyde because you knew nothing would touch you with Craig following close behind.

That was nice sure, but under that scary looking shell was a soft teddy bear of a man. While he wasn't vocal with affection like Clyde, he was observant. Craig remembered everything, everything about you and Clyde's interests. If he saw something you mentioned in passing it was yours. Clyde needed new shoelaces because the ones on his favorite pair of red shoes were tearing? There was a new pack waiting for him on the table. You complained about the shift key on your keyboard sticking too much? An adorable keyboard that looked like a typewriter was found on your desk the next morning.

Then there was you. You have no idea how these two survived this long without you. Truth be told they don't either. Craig and Clyde couldn't cook to save their lives. Their diet consisted of diner food and Chinese takeout. While their house was clean enough, laundry was never put away or folded. Clyde was horrible at putting his dirty laundry in the bin and Craig was too tired most nights to even make it to bed. The final straw was when you took a shower, and their only soap was 3 in 1.

Absolutely not.

So, when you moved in things changed. When Craig was at work, you would take Clyde grocery shopping. Slowly you started him on simple dishes, working with him until he was comfortable in the kitchen. What was surprising was that he took to it quickly. He was a natural and before you knew it, he was cooking things you had never heard of. He had gone as far as looking up Peruvian dishes, practicing with spices and techniques that had your mouth watering. When you asked how he learned to do all of this, he gave you the biggest grin and told you it was YouTube.

When Craig came home that night to Chupe de Camarones it was the closest to crying you've ever seen from him.

Clyde really stepped up after that, feeling a sense of pride in taking care of you two. Seeing as you worked just as hard as Craig did. Clyde proclaimed something about being more than happy to be a malewife.

In return Craig started taking better care of himself, actually starting to care about his health. He stopped staying up so late and made use of the giant bed. Clean sheets and blankets that felt good on his skin. Even better that you and Clyde would be in it waiting for him. Clyde long passed out on your chest, a bit of drool sliding down the side of his face and onto your shirt. Not that you seemed to care as you just continued to read next to the little bedside lamp. Only pausing when you felt Craig's presence in the doorway.

Craig's smiles were rare, little treats from the universe to you. Ones like these where he smiles with love in his eyes. Where he kicks off his shoes and strips down to his boxers, crawling into bed next to you. Arms wrapping around Clyde and with a hand settling on your hips. A silent squeeze lets you know it's time to put the book down and join him.

How can you say no to a smile like that?

Of course, not every day was perfect. Your relationship took time to hash out. It was different being with two individuals at the same time, but you made it work. The three of you were committed to one another.

Now if only you could commit to this fucking scene.

Your head’s little meet and greet with the table must have been louder than you thought because whatever Clyde was yelling about in the living room stopped. It was one of the rare weekends where Craig was home and off work. Choosing to spend it watching some show with Clyde, listening to the man ramble on about something.

So wrapped up in your thoughts, you let out a scream when you finally lift your head and Clyde is right there beside you. His body bent over just like the day you met him. With his hand on the back of your chair and his face next to yours. Except instead of using, you as a shield from Craig, he's reading your computer screen.

While he doesn't understand what it takes to be an author, he sees the effect it has on you. Days like this where you take on the posture of a shrimp, forgetting to come out to eat.

His lips start pursed, but as he continues to scan over the screen they break out into a smirk. He covers his mouth in a fake surprise, a gasp with widened eyes.

"Babe! This is...scandalous! Spicy, naughty even! What are you doing writing something like this?" His dramatic act continues, forming some feign surprise.

"What are you doing using words with more than one syllable?" You shoot back with a little smirk.

It takes everything in your power not to laugh at the actual pout on his face. Try as you might, the giggles escape your lips, and it makes him smirk. He leans down and nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

"Maybe you're starting to rub off on me babe! I'm getting smarterer with you around!" You know he said that word wrong on purpose, just to get under your skin.

But he kisses you quiet before you can say anything. Holds your face in his hands so you can't pull away. You can taste the cherry chapstick on his lips, and the growing smile along with it.

"So, what's got you bashing your head into your desk baby? Craig and I heard a thump and got worried." He moves the kisses towards your forehead.

"Was it that loud?"

"Heard it over the tv." Craig's voice almost makes you leap out of your skin.

You bite your lip, looking down at the keyboard with a distant stare. The faded green and blue, spots where your fingers had smudged away the paint from typing so much.

"I'm just having trouble with this scene. I've been stuck on it for weeks now." You exhale softly.

Craig raises a brow and leans down on the other side of you. Both Clyde and Craig bent over to take a look at your screen. You're not sure why the fact both men reading your unfinished work makes you feel nervous, but it does. Or maybe it's the fact this is your first time writing a spicy scene like this.

"It's good. Never would have thought you'd go the Priest kink route." Craig says it so matter of fact, there's never hesitation in his voice. You can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him flustered, and even then, his tone is flat.

"I-I’m not into it! I just- you guys are only reading a snippet of my book! There's been a romance blossoming between the two the whole time!" You try to defend yourself, but it only makes Clyde's lips tug into a smirk.

The temptation to tease you was too great, it was being handed to him on a silver platter. Clyde leans up and walks next to Craig, leaning into his chest. The man wraps his arms around himself and lets out a dramatic sigh.

"A forbidden love! A tale as old as time! But what I wanna know babe-" Clyde stops and lets the tension build. It makes you glare at him as you turn in your office chair. "-is why the witch's descriptions are reaaaally close to mine."

"That's a woman Clyde! She's got short brown hair because it was cut off when she was running from the townsfolk! Brown eyes are common and beautiful! There's not enough representation for them!"

"Aaaaaand her dimples?" He points to his, the little spots in his cheeks that sink in when he smiles. "Plus, my eyes are totally beautiful."

"It's not you!"

"Oh, and the Father isn't Craig. Tan skin, black hair? You gave the Father green eyes but other than that, it fits Craig to a T." Craig actually nods along with what Clyde is saying. He's got his eyes closed as if this is some kind of philosophical debate.

"Are you serious right now Clyde?! This is why you two aren't allowed in my study!" Your face was burning now, hot and flushed from his teasing.

"What did I do?" Craig breaks the little fight with a simple question.

"Nodding your head along! You know what he's doing and you're encouraging it!"

"So, you took inspiration from your partners in your romance story. It's cute." He responds with a shrug. He looks down at Clyde who's still smugly leaning against his chest.

Your mouth falls open, you go to respond but nothing makes its way out. Your brows furrow. Arms crossed under your chest in a pout.

Had you unintentionally based your characters off your partners? Is that why the romance novel was easy to write up until this point?

Whatever the case may be here, you didn't like being called out. So, you do what you always do when they get like this, you turn in your chair and ignore them.

Usually this works, let's them know that you're not in the mood for their games. That you'd rather be left alone than entertain another minute of their shenanigans. But this time Clyde wasn't going to let you go. He grabs the back of your seat and wheels you back towards him and Craig.

"Baaaaabe don't pout. Look I'm sorry~." No, he's not. "But hey I've got an idea."

You let out a little huff, enough to where he knows you're not actually mad at him. If you were you would have picked your chair up and walked it back to your desk. Instead, you sit there and wait for him to continue.

"You're stuck on that scene, but I think you need a break. Sitting here and bashing your head against the table isn't going to fix that. Soooo..." He trails off, moving to stand in front of you.

His fingers glide across the side of your face, cupping your cheek so gently. Clyde guides your face up to look at him, behind that cocky smile of his he's got such love for you in his eyes. The way his thumb brushes across your cheek, making your heart flutter so slightly.

"What do you say Craig and I help you out a little babe?" Clyde guides your face up towards him. He presses his thumb against your lips just as his voice dips into that playful whisper.

You raise a brow at him in response. It's not until Craig puts his hand on your shoulders, that you piece together this wasn't just his idea. Thumbs pressed into your muscles working out the knots and tension. For such a hard worker, somehow Craig's hands always stay so soft. The worn-out oversized t-shirt you stole does little against his hands. The material is thin from how often it's been washed and worn.

His hands pull a soft moan from you, it feels too good to keep yourself silent. Clyde pushes his thumb past your lips and into your mouth, the digit presses down on your soft pink tongue. He all but purrs when watches you wrap your lips around it.

"See...let's work out some of that tension. We'll make you feel real good and give you a little inspiration." Clyde hums as he pulls his thumb out, smearing the saliva across your lips.

When he doesn't continue, you realize he's waiting for your confirmation. Waiting for you to agree to their little plan. But that doesn't stop Craig from bending down and placing a kiss on your cheek. He trails the kisses down to your jawline, using his nose to nudge your head to the side. Lulling your head to the side, you gave into the feeling. Craig's lips move to capture the exposed skin. You can feel just how eager he is from the way the kisses turn to nips then to full on bites. His teeth sinking into the soft parts of your flesh pulling another sharp gasp from you.

"Come on honey. Let us take care of you." After he's done leaving small love bites on your neck, Craig moves to your ear nipping the shell.

"Y-yeah that sounds...that sounds good." You move your hands up towards Craig, running your fingers through his hair. One of the rare moments he's not sporting his blue hat. "I could use a little break..."

"That's our girl." Clyde's praise goes straight to your core. He lifts you up from your office chair, hands cupping the back of your thighs for support. They give your thighs a little squeeze, digging his fingertips into your flesh.

Craig moves out of his way and goes to push your office chair back towards your desk. Clyde chuckles softly seeing the confused look on your face. Instead of protesting you wrap your arms around the brunette lazily throwing your arms around his neck.

"We're supposed to be relaxing, we're gonna get nice and comfy on the couch." He drops you down on the couch, making you bounce a bit. He laughs when you let out a gasp of surprise.

"You ass." Your grumbles fall on deaf ears. Clyde just runs his fingers through your hair and gives it a harsh tug. It makes you cry out, craning your neck up towards him.

"Sweetheart, that's not very nice. You're being a brat right now." He tuts, feigning disappointment.

"You dropped me on the-" You suck in another cry when he tugs your head to the side, that firm grip on your roots sending a shiver down your spine.

"Hm? You were saying something? I did what?"

Clyde's smug little smirk made your blood boil. But his fingers in your hair felt too good to protest further. Especially when he switched between tugging and massaging his fingertips into your scalp. You watched his eyes flicker from yours to behind you. Before you could turn around to get a glimpse of what he was staring at, Craig's hands slid down your back.

Gently, much more than Clyde, he pushes you down towards Clyde. His other hand comes down to grab your ankle, pulling your leg back towards him. Once your knee is tucked against the couch, he does the same to the other leg.

If your face wasn't burning up before it certainly is now. Just as you go to hold yourself up with your hands, Clyde removes his hand from your hair and takes you by the wrist. Guiding you up towards him, he places them on the hems of his sweatpants. The grey university sweatpants do little to hide his hardening cock, you watch it twitch against the fabric.

"This is about where you left off right? She was about to take the Father's cock out of his pants?" Clyde says watching as you slowly pull his sweatpants down. He lets out a low chuckle that turns into a moan when you slip your fingers around his cock. "That's it, now keep your eyes on me baby."

There's a moment of hesitation as you bring the tip closer to your mouth. The bright red tip glides across your plump lips begging for you to open. His hand returns to your hair, smoothing down your locks from his earlier manhandling.

The gentle touch makes you look up towards him, just like he requested. There really was something so intimate about those chocolate brown eyes of his. Past that smirk and layers of darkened lust, there was devotion. The feeling of your hands on him alone made him weak in the knees. You put that to the test, pressing just a little kiss on the tip. Dabbing your tongue against his leaking member. Just from that alone he's letting out the prettiest moans.

"Sh-shit, c’mon don't tease me." That cocky attitude of his melts. You almost laugh at how easy it is to break him down. He was puddy in your hands.

With a little hum you move your hand up and down his shaft, creating enough friction to make him buck his hips towards you. He nudges his cock further into your mouth, pushing past your lips. The underside of his cock glides down against your tongue, smearing the pre-cum along with it.

So caught up in your little game, you almost forgot about Craig behind you. Almost. It's hard to forget him when he's got his hands all over you. Large palms cupping any exposed skin. Craig takes his time exploring every curve he can get ahold of. His nose nuzzled into the back of your head. His breath tickling the shell of your ear. Just the sight of your mouth around Clyde's member alone is enough to make him growl.

Neither men are patient when it comes to you. Craig shoves whatever is left of your pajamas down and off you, he doesn't bother with your shirt as it'll pull you away from your lover. Instead, he decides it'll make the perfect handle. He bunches it up until it collects at the collar. His hands grip the shirt and tug it backwards, making your hips rock back into him.

Somewhere along the way he stripped away his pants. The barrier between the both of you was the thin material of your underwear and his dark blue boxers. While Craig wasn't as vocal as Clyde was, with his teasing and little whimpers, he could be just as unfair if not more.

Grinding against your cunt slowly, grabbing and groping at your ass the entire time. He digs his nails into your skin, leaving little crescent moons. Craig rewards good behavior not with sweet words, but by giving you what you so desperately want.

He waits until you've got all of Clyde's cock in your mouth before he finally shoves your underwear down. It makes it to your knees before he just decides to leave them there. Too many times he got impatient and just ripped them off, and too many times you scolded him for it.

The hand in your hair pulls you back from his cock. Clyde moves your head back just enough to where only the tip remains, then slowly he brings you back down. Pushing you all the way down his length until your nose hits his stomach. You watch as his muscles flex under his skin like he's trying to resist letting his head lull back. He needs so badly to keep his eyes on yours, loving the attention you're giving him.

"Your mouth feels so good." He whines when he reaches the back of your throat. You gag around him, and it pulls another whimper from him.

Your hand slides down his thighs, using it to hold you up. The other hand is still being held by Clyde's grip. His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding it up near his shoulder. Craig waits until Clyde rocks you back again, using the momentum to slip inside your wet folds. A pleased hum rumbles from his chest. You can feel it from how he's pressing his entire body against yours.

Just as slowly as Clyde moves your head, Craig pushes further into your cunt. The two find a slow and steady rhythm with one another. When Craig snaps his hips against you, it pushes Clyde's cock further down your throat. Your moans vibrating around him causing him to moan loudly in return. Clyde's whimpers and whines get louder when you dig your nails into his thighs. In return the grip on your hair is tightened. Creating this delicious cycle of pleasure.

"Baby, please. I wanna fuck your throat. You gonna let me? I need it so bad, please." Clyde's begging spurs something in you. Gives you the feeling of control even if you’re physically stuck between the two. From the beads of sweat that trail down his body and the way his body is shaking, you know he's at his limit.

You're able to pull back just enough, his cock springs up with a little bounce. Craig slows down just enough to let you talk, but you can tell he's not happy about it. The way his grip on your shirt tightens, you're sure he'll rip it soon.

"If I snap my fingers, you stop, okay?" You say giving him the okay. He caresses your face and presses a kiss onto your face, letting you know he understands the boundaries you've set.

At first, he's careful when he pushes his cock back into your mouth. You reward him with a swirl of your tongue, rubbing against the veins that are popping out.

"He's so needy." Craig huffs as he leans back up. The assault on your neck stops, but he's left it covered in bright red and purple marks. No amount of makeup will cover up what he's done.

You don't need to see him to know that he's smirking at it. Taking pride in the fact that he's marked you up. Or the pride making Clyde blush from his comment. Craig's hips snap back into you, the force much sharper than his previous lazy thrusts. They're calculated, each time he pushes deep inside you he hits that spot that has you seeing stars. Clyde's hips take up the same pace, shoving his cock into the back of your throat.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks. Moans turn to muffled cries, yet everything feels too good to stop. They're rough paced fucking brings your mind to a haze. All you can focus on is feeling good and making them feel good.

Craig's close, you can tell from the way he starts to lose rhythm. He's having a harder time controlling those grunts and growls. A hard time not leaving bruises on your skin from how rough he's holding onto you. He's long since let your shirt go, instead grabbing onto the back of the couch. But he waits until he feels that familiar clench around his cock. The way your walls clamp down around him as you cum. The only warning being the high-pitched muffled moan that gets swallowed by Clyde.

His hips slam into you one more time before he pulls out. Grabbing the base of his cock, he shoots that hot thick load onto your back. Heavy amounts of cum drip down your spine making you whine and shiver. Clyde can't take his eyes off the way his partner paints your backside. It makes a trail of drool slip down his chin.

The poor man can't do it anymore, he can't stop his eyes from rolling up to the back of his head. Not when your moans vibrate up him and your throat tightens from choking on him. He needs this release.

"I'm gonna cum baby. Please, let me cum. Let me cum in your mouth." Clyde all but cries in between panting. His begging dissolves into your name and the word please over and over again.

His flickering eyes catch yours again. It's when you give him a little wink and a hum, his cock violently twitches and cum spills from his tip. His cum is sweeter than normal, it makes it easier to swallow.

Slowly he pulls out of your mouth with one final whimper. It isn't until Craig swipes his thumb over his cheek that you realize he had tears streaming down them. Clyde presses his cheek into Craig's hand and lets out a pleased sigh. Once he knows Clyde is okay, Craig stands up and goes to get a towel to help clean your back. He does the same to your face, swiping away the left-over tears.

"Feeling better?" Clyde asks as he helps pull your underwear up. "Nice and relaxed?"

You nod and rest your head against his chest. "You've got good ideas sometimes."

"I've got wrinkles on my brain." He smirks to himself, taking your little praise miles.

Craig comes back after tossing the towel in the dirty laundry with a large blanket. He throws it over both of you before climbing in next to you. He lays his head down on Clyde's and grabs the tv remote.

"Kitchen Nightmare or Hell’s Kitchen?"

"Kitchen Nightmares! I need some petty British accents after my orgasm denial!"

You scrunch up your nose at Clyde’s comment. Almost wanting to pull back. "Smooth brain behavior."

"Smooth brain behavior." Craig chimes in.

The three of you relax into the couch, almost ready for the group nap that comes with the afterglow of love making. That is until inspiration strikes you again. Your eyes light up and you go to wiggle out of their hold. But Craig's arms are faster, they keep you firm against his chest. Clyde's hands come down a moment later, cupping your hips.

"Nope. You're staying right here."

"Guys! No! I just figured out how I'm gonna get that chapter finished! You gotta let me go! I gotta do it!" Your pleads are wasted, like they're not even heard.

"No. You're warm and I'm tired."

"That's not my fault or my problem."

"I'm making it your problem. Sit still."

"You know Tucker bear isn't going to let go. You're fighting a losing battle babe." Craig at least has the decency to let Clyde finish before pinching him. You know Clyde's nickname for him makes him grumpy. His little yelp makes you giggle.

"Fine....at least until you fall asleep."

"Look if you think you can get out of his hold, then be my guest. You earned it at that point." Clyde's smirk returns. He throws his leg over yours and tucks it in between Craig's knees.

"Fuck you." Your eyes narrow up at him. He's not as slick as he thinks he is, trying to cage you in with a sleepy Craig.

"Again? So soon. You're insatiable babe. Let us recover first." Clyde presses a kiss into the top of your head, pulling back before you can headbutt him.

His hand guides your head back down onto his chest and he just chuckles. It doesn't take long before Craig is passed out with his head nuzzled into the curve of your waist. Holding you like a teddy bear against his chest. Clyde's smile grows when he sees you trying to fight off sleep. But it eventually takes you and you lose the battle. He turns the tv down just a bit, deciding to join the both of you.

That chapter can wait another day.

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carigm · 1 year

Text

Today Millie had a fan panel in which she answered that her ideal ending would be Mike and El getting married and Will being happy and confessing to Mike (lol) and ofc the Stranger Things fandom kicked up the old Byler vs Mlvn war once again, regardless of the fact she doesn’t write the show. But I want to break down some points here about things I’ve been noticing today, but also for a while and that I think need to be discussed. Keep reading if you want.

I’ve seen a lot of hostility towards Byler and Bylers on Twitter lately, saying we’re delusional and don’t know what we’re talking about. This always seems to be the go to argument even tho it’s all in the narrative. Today it got really bad after Millie’s comments and even people that were merely disagreeing with her opinions got called everything from delusional to misogynistic.

IF the Duffers suddenly decided to ignore everything they’ve carefully crafted and put into their narrative that doesn’t make anyone delusional, it just makes them terrible writers. Who would be doing a great disservice to all three characters involved in the love triangle.

There’s been an insurgence (on Twitter) of so called “Will stans” who seem to be completely fine with the idea of mlvn being endgame because “Will can just get another boyfriend” Not only is this insulting to what the writers have already established for Will’s character but it’s also a defense and endorsement of the worst kind of lazy/bad writing that could graze our screens.

The Duffers CHOSE to tie Will’s character arc to Mike’s and El’s.

How do you expect them to undo that and create a well fleshed out character that’s deserving of Will, in 8 episodes that we know are not just gonna be dedicated to Will’s supposed love interest, because there’s a shit ton of stuff to resolve?

If this was the route the Duffers were going for, they could’ve clearly given Will a love interest last season (like with Robin) or two seasons ago (like with Dustin) And yet somehow, people think it would be totally okay for Will to get the most meaningless romance of all time as the writers ignore the same story they’ve created.

Another point I’ve been seeing a lot from these people is “Mike won’t come out. Let it go. He’s just a very unlikable character” What does that say about the quality of the writing and content you’re willing to consume then? You’re okay with characters being poorly written? And please someone explain to me how Mike’s actions, especially in S4, make any sense unless he likes Will.

The more people try to simplify this story the more plot holes and inconsistencies it creates.

The funny thing is that a lot of these “Will stans” used to be Bylers themselves but are so deathly afraid it won’t be endgame that they’ve started to use the same rhetoric mlvns use every day to justify what would be atrocious writing.

And this next thing might be controversial but I think it needs to be said.

So many people on Twitter have hit those who disagree with Millie’s opinion today with “y’all are misinterpreting Millie’s words” and let me tell you, no one has. She’s been saying the same stuff for forever and quite frankly she’s never had a coherent thought about Will. Which is fine, at the end of the day that’s not the character she plays. However, I haven’t forgotten how last year (at another panel) she was asked about Byler and said it was just a reflection of Finn and Noah’s friendship and that was what people were seeing…

Whatever the fuck that means, I guess.

Again, I’m not taking her answer today too seriously cause truth be told she’s been saying some version of this since she was around twelve, and has even at times said she was joking about it. If a wedding were actually happening she wouldn’t be able to say it cause I’d literally be a spoiler, even if she doesn’t have the scripts yet or doesn’t know I’m sure there’s things that would be off limits for any actor to say at this point.

But this defense squad that formed today begging for us to not misconstrue her words because “she really cares about Will’s character” is laughable.

Her answers regarding the topic of the love triangle have been anything but nuanced. If she doesn’t want to get into it or address it, that’s fine. It’s her choice.

But of course, mlvn stans are gonna take her answers seriously, as well as those who are now “Will stans” who basically ship mlvn too.

And to me there’s a fundamental flaw regarding the ship wars in this fandom, which these people don’t seem to grasp. At this point, it isn’t so much about “which ship is better” but “which outcome isn’t violently homophobic”

That’s it.

I don’t care how much you ship mlvn, this is the undisputed truth here.

But when your lead actors act like it’s not a big deal, it’s no surprise the fandom doesn’t give a shit.

I can only hope the Duffers were smart enough to see reason and were able to write the only outcome that won’t set television back around 10 years or so.

And hopefully one day, when S5 is out, we can get a more in depth and honest conversation with the actors about all of this.

As for me, I’m gonna lay low and not give much of a fuck until we start getting those Reddit leaks, which were very much accurate for last season. I’ll take a peak at those, and depending on what they look like, I’ll stay around or dip completely.

If you read all of this, thank you.

#byler #byler theory #byler is real

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months

Text

With Grace, Bow

Commissioned by @turbulentscrawl

Rated Mature (to be safe) | Warnings: Drunkenness, Student-Teacher dynamic, googled Italian (sorry in advance)

Ao3

Antonio Paganini, you have known him for a few years now being roommates and all. He is an interesting person, one with skeletons in his closet and a demon at the door. You were nervous around him at first, unsure how to start a conversation with him. It was upon the mutual interest in music that he started speaking with you, he was the one who approached you while you were trying to play the violin. It was the first time you had ever seen him look so at peace, his face always has sadness written all over it.

In that moment you saw a man in love with his craft and willing to share it. The closer you became to him the more you found pieces of a man in need of succor. Something inside of that man is broken beyond repair, or maybe it was ripped out of him leaving a void of emptiness. Antonio Paganini is the greatest violinist to ever exist! Yet, he seems so very far away, somewhere dark with a ball and chain keeping him in that abyss. His melodies are sad if one listens carefully like the cries of a trapped bird with clipped wings.

Being gentle with him is an option, one you took but quickly learned he needed a firm hand against his backside at times. The dynamic between you both shifted one day when your mother had sought out her ‘lost child’... You were thrown out by your father when he found out his child wanted to go into the arts rather than business. You have a talent and you were firm about using it to enrich the world!

Your father called you delusional and kicked you with nothing but the shirt on your back.

When he was ‘dying’ he begged you to come home and got your mother involved to try to get you to come home. You sent to him one sentence in a letter: I will come home when you are cold in the grave.

And well, he is very cold in the grave and you inherited half of the wealth from your other sibling (who is currently going to medical school, also against the shared father’s wishes).

With the money you have, you are glad to pay the violinist his due! A better apartment, and a new violin (only to be used once you have progressed past using the novice one).

Yet, you know it is not enough for him to be comfortable to just teach you, he needs to be out there like a bird fresh from the nest… Only he… Maybe it is not your place to judge but he acts also pompous when you find him a place to perform.

You thought you were helping, helping get used to flying but all did was land you in the current position of being livid, the livid that is mixed with hurt and self-disappointment.

As you stand in front of the man playing, you do not watch and clap at his performance, no, you just feel sorry for the fool. Your fool, your teacher, someone you know not to look up to but admire. There are few people gathered around him watching in awe of his performance, few have even dropped a few coins or dollars in his violin case—the fact he can play while drunk is a testament to his skill and muscle memory.

Still, you are very cross with the sight. Has lost his mind to be a drunken fool in public!? Besides the possibility of being arrested for public drunkenness, he should be at that performance you were hoping to see him in.

“Antonio!” He stops as you stand in front of him, “What are you doing!?” Quickly stopping his arm from moving and pulling him out of wherever his mind was.

“My friend!” Throwing his arms open, you dodge the violin bow before he leans forward, drunkenly draping over you, “Where have you been?” His words are not as clear as he may think. He stands up suddenly with a smile wide on his face. “Join me! Oh, where is your violin?” Is this man serious!?

“In the hall wondering when you were taking the stage.” Crossing your arms and with furrowing brows, you are going to ignore that last question with a wave of your hand.

He shrinks a bit as your tone makes it crystal clear you are more than disappointed with him. With the group looking on at the potential unfolding drama, you grab his violin case, closing it. “Home. Now.” He can carry his violin on the way.

“Evening.” Curt as Antonio is dragged behind you as you take him by the hand, the crowd leaving with nonsense grumbling. “I can��t believe you would do this!” Say under your breath. The Violinist is rambling, you are not paying attention to him, then you stop when feel his weight getting heavier to pull. “Antonio?”

He drapes over you, his hair smooth against your face as laughs the way you hate, self-deprecating. You know Antonio can be a mean drunk, you have seen it at a pub one time a fight he was not in the wrong for but the viciousness he showed was not called for. Now he acting affectionate, needy like a cat, and you wish you could give it to him. But you are mad! You remind yourself that your teacher has fucked up because of his damn pride.

“It's cold.” His arm wrapped around you, his face rubbing against yours and you swear if he was not holding his treasured violin, you would push him into the snow!

“Of course it's cold!” Glancing behind you then realizing, “Where is your coat?” He only dressed in his performance coattail suit. The burn of your cheeks hidden by your scarf, he cold but you are not giving him anything! Stupid winter, stupid snow, you want to cry in frustration. Drunken idiot! Wintertime is the best time to get booked for performances! During the holidays everyone loves to see Christmas plays, musicals need musicians! And the orchestras always need the best of the best.

“I gave it to a poor lad I passed by,” Dragging out the last word, “Poor thing.” He has no idea that nothing he is saying makes sense.

“What am I going to do with you…” Exasperated.

The trek home was long because Antonio was comedically dramatic and you were worried about him falling over. At least the brisk way partly sobered up the man but God above you needed some patience. He stumbles inside first, you take his violin and gently place the poor thing on the table in the living room— You pray the instrument is not worn from being in the cold for so long. The case is placed next to it.

The violinist stumbles around talking about needing a brandy. You scowl before grabbing his arm and tossing him on the couch, he looks confused but remains in that spot as you take off your coat, scarf, and gloves then place them in the appropriate area. This gave you time to name the many reasons why you should not murder Paganini.

“Don’t be rough, alunno.” Being tall, he looks silly on the couch with one leg on the other cushion and his other leg stretched out on the floor. Antonio holds his head before slumping further until he lies completely out on the couch.

“Pride before the fall, maestro. Pride before the fucking fall!” He turns around slightly as you are going on one of the lectures. Yes, the dynamic between the two of you is teacher and student but feels more like an old married couple constantly bickering.

“I'm sorry.” He sounds pitiful, not in a cute way, drunk and sad. Rare given he usually is the violent type. “Don't be upset with me.” His hand reaches out for you as you go to him. “Mi alunno.” You remove his shoes, each one drops to the floor. Antonio sits up to caress your cheek, “Scusami tanto.” Slipping into Italian knowing how charming it sounds to you.

Not now though.

“No. No, you messed up! I waited for you! Do you know how scared I was? Thinking how maybe something happened to you along the way! They demanded compensation for the embarrassment and I had to cover for you!”

Yes, you are yelling at him! Rightfully so.

“Scusami tanto.” Deeper his head is on your shoulder as the hand on your cheek moves to your neck, his thumb rubs against your throat, “You do so much for me.”

“I do… Happily.” Because he is just an old bird who is struggling to fly and keeps falling but you are there to catch him no matter what. Love does that, makes people stupid and helpless.

“Alunno,” His breath is hot on the other side of your neck, “(Name).”

“Not while you are drunk, maestro.” You lay him down under before laying on top of him. The couch is small but it somehow works, “I'm still upset too.” Playing with his hair.

He holds you–No– He clings to you like a lifeline, his hands latching onto your body as he seeks both your warmth and comfort.

Tomorrow he will get a proper earful while recovering from a hangover, then he will have to make up for the performance he missed.

There is pride, he should have been paid better than the chump change they offered.

There is greed for he wants more and they do not deserve his skills.

There is wrath which in this case is the righteous anger you should have.

There is sloth, he is not lazy he just refuses to do more work than he needs to do for something like that performance (he wonders how well did you do? He did say you were ready to perform if you practiced more).

There is gluttony as he drank enough to have him act shamefully.

There is envy towards you that keeps him with a roof over his head, and food in his stomach, and you allow him to do what he loves and does best. He wishes he could give you more but his debt to you by now is far too great to ever repay you.

And finally, there is lust. The sin the demon feeds the most on while around you, his student. You love him, it is clear in all your actions. The one night you shared over too many glasses of wine, the messy kisses, and the way you would moan both his title and name had him struggling to hold back that demon edger to devour you.

He is a sinful man, flawed, broken; but even with all those things he has enough virtue to do right by you.

#reader insert #idv #idv violinist #idv antonio #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv x reader #antonio x reader #antonio x you #violinist x you #violinist x reader #antonio paganini #identity v x you #identity v violinist #ao3 fanfic #the violinist

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precious-little-scoundrel · 6 months

Note

I saw a post of yours saying you'd accept prompts for the reader character from Honeymoon, and while I don't have one yet I was wondering if while writing Honeymoon, did a particular name/coined nickname come to mind to you for the character? Or were there generally any side thoughts that came to mind like little headcanons that you couldn't get into the work?

(I know you've gotten a lot of asks about Honeymoon lately so I'm sorry if you're getting tired of getting asks about it specifically 🫠)

Oh I never tire of it, in fact the more y’all ask the more I go from it being perhaps one of the most solitary pieces I’ve ever written to finally having a little more of a concept behind it. So it helps me start thinking up plot. >And I’d welcome all the suggestions!!<

I was captivated by the wholesome salaciousness of a next morning walk with Elvis after the wedding night and how the whole world would be invested in it,. That alone drove that fic, very isolated. If you’ve ever been to a good ole fashioned southern Baptist wedding you know the tittering blushiness of what everyone knowing “what’s gonna happen to you tonight.” So I was thinking of that but magnified by global interest and Elvis’ carefully crafted image of his perfect little lady.

SOOOO….

First off, no, I’ve no nickname in particular, which honestly now I’m realizing that would be a lovely way to keep it a reader fic but have a little name for her. I’d want it something soft and sweet like Bunny or Buttercup, Honey Bunch, Schooby Doo or something similarly saccharine. Elvisey.

Now as for plot, much of what I might’ve done back when I wrote it has now been written by others, and written very well. So I’ve started to simmer on something else, maybe regarding the Governor’s daughter at the time he came home, except not Ann the eldest who he flirted with and maintained a friendship with, but rather a baby sister? Someone far too young when he first came back yet was star struck and dreamy over him in 1960. But Honeymoon and any of its new surrounding fics would be in the late 60’s and perhaps she ends up the bride. I’m really intrigued about exploring two things:

1. Elvis marrying a sweet little baby belle to spare her reputation after a bit of his foolin’ got her name gnarled up with his and shenagins that never did go as far as the papers say, but she’s a bit ruined all the same in her father’s circles. So perhaps outta respect for her father and the appeals of her older sister to help somehow and his almost mystically idealistic appreciation for rewarding virtue and defending the innocent, he marrys her to save her good name. And dear me, she’s so in love with him, she’d do anything for him and he’s terribly nervous that he’s not cut out for marriage but he’s trying and goodness me it is fun to play house with someone so sublime.

All this is just me spit balling.

2. I want more of Elvis actually getting commissioned as a agent or ambassador or something of that nature for once, the dear man so wanted to be of use to his country and sure, maybe his new posting isn’t what he expected without much gun fighting and need for karate kicks but his his career was lacking anyway and his helpful little wife knows this world well and is an immense help and assures him that his smile alone could bring world peace. Germany again, perhaps? Cold War shennagins? Middle East? Where would y’all like to send him?

Does this inspire any thoughts? Opinions? That’s what I’m stewing on so far though it’s not sure enough for me to have the vision for a scene I can write out.

Thank you again for asking and sorry for the way I’ve just word vomited lol.

Xoxo

#prompts most welcome #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #honeymoon #honeymoon asks #elvis and me #welcome home elvis #oh elvis #elvis presley x reader smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis and priscilla #priscilla presley smut #priscilla movie

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pendarling · 1 year

Text

The Other Side

Villain readjusted their leather boots and hopped into action against the enemy.

Hero laid wrecked by the scraps of metal cars, yet, curiously enough, they refused to give up.

They took note of the way they cautiously stepped up again with a battered and bruised face. Villain had hardly touched them, the most they’ve used was their weapons and tools that usually helped them get by pretty easily.

“Well, aren’t you a tough cookie?” They smirked at the bleeding saviour.

Hero choked out a cough but pulled out a nasty grin that irritated Villain. “I guess grandma was right after all.”

Villain pulled out a long staff and revealed an electric pole. It immediately lit up and a sparked alive, Villain seemed to be delighted as soon as they caught the fear in Hero’s eyes. “Let’s see about that.”

With a quick jab they aimed to hit the hero who moved swiftly to their feet. A bright electric current left a large dark mark on the buildings surrounding them. Another jab later and Villain found their staff knocked right off their hands. Hero moved fast to send several blows in their direction, but Villain proved to be a challenge even without their weapons.

The hero found an opening, instantly pinning Villain down and caught the surprise written on their face.

Villain felt their heartbeat rapidly quicken as soon as they figured out their wrists were locked tightly above them. “You think your so good?”

“I am. Better even.”

Villain’s expression darkened and they tried to shuffle under the weight of the city’s favourite protector.

“Hahaha you look so scared of me” Hero smirked and admired the pink blush that began to form on their enemy’s cheeks. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you.” Hero sent a wink their way, but it didn’t seem to make the situation any better.

“Get off of me.” They seethed.

Hero rolled their eyes and stared at the marvellous weapon that Villain had built. “You’re really talented at crafting things aren’t you? It’s a shame you use it to hurt people.”

Villain turned their face away from Hero with a scowl. “Complimenting me won’t get you anywhere.”

A small beep sounded from under the Hero and their eyes widened as a bright flash jumped up at them. An explosion sent the Hero back as they quickly stepped off of Villain and turned to see a large smoke beginning to surround Villain. The figure of their nemesis began to slowly slip into the shadow.

“I won’t let you get away!” Hero moved hurriedly again to comb through the dark smoke and trace their rival’s footsteps. Their chase came to a halt when Hero felt a shock rise up from the tips of their fingers and down their back as a heavy hit pushed them into a nearby brick wall. Hero coughed as they shakingly fell to their knees.

A burning sensation played on their skin and suit. Hero couldn’t believe they let them get attacked so easily again.

Through their darkening vision, Hero realized they’ve been electrocuted. Villain smirked as they slowly walked towards the saviour. They lifted Hero’s chin slowly to inspect their face. Hero tried to pull back but the soreness in their muscles protested, leaving Hero feeling too rigid to move as a side effect. “You… hurt me.”

The words stung them more than Villain thought. They knew Hero genuinely felt that they could help Villain. The attack caught Hero completely off-guard and all Villain could do was hum with agreement.

“You’re really persistent when it comes to your work. It’s a shame you use that persistence to protect the wrong things.”

Villain ran their fingers between the hairs that laid near Hero’s eyes. The other tried to reply but only heavy gasps came out and a pained look.

“You poor thing.” Villain grabbed Hero and laid them onto the ground. Hero watched carefully as they saw the rebel kneel next to them with that same mysterious smile before blacking out.

~~~

MASTERLIST

#hero x villain #heroxvillain #writingblr #enemies to lovers #pining prompts #angst prompts #villain x hero #villainxhero

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felagund-the-valiant · 4 months

Text

All I Want Is You - Fingon x gn!reader

There’s only one thing Findekáno wants for his Begetting Day – to finally start courting the love of his life.

Words: 1.1k

Tags: best friends to lovers, first kiss

A/N: sooo, this is the first proper one shot i've ever written for fandom stuff. i hope it doesn't suck.

Aikanáro - Aegnor, Angaráto - Angrod, Fëanáro - Fëanor, Findekáno - Fingon, Maitimo - Maedhros, Turukáno - Turgon

Findekáno noticed you the moment you came through the door and made a beeline towards you. “(Y/N)!” He exclaimed in his usual cheerful manner and pulled you in for a hug that seemed to linger just a second too long, not that you minded. You discreetly breathed in his scent and felt your stomach flutter. “Happy Begetting Day!” You said with a bright smile when he let go of you and handed over your present to him. He gratefully accepted it and went to put it with the other presents he had received. Even though you shouldn’t be, you were astounded at the volume. He was a prince, after all, and you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit self-conscious, hoping your gift wouldn't appear too simple next to the others. You pushed the thought aside and followed him to the opulent buffet to grab something to drink and a bite to eat.

You observed him carefully as you followed behind him. His hair was adorned with his signature golden hairbands that matched the artfully crafted jewellery he wore as well as the intricate embroidery on his royal blue robes. He looked stunning as always and you could only hope your own appearance was a suitable match.

After the two of you had filled your plates, you settled down at an empty table and you happily listened to him chatter away about all the planning that had gone into the celebration as well as the latest royal family drama. Apparently Maitimo – his oldest cousin – had managed to convince his uncle Fëanáro to attend and so far, he had only gotten into minor squabbles with Findekáno’s father. One would see what the rest of the evening would bring. After the recounts of drama were finished, he went over to presenting his newest jokes to you. He loved making you laugh. You were oblivious to the fact that he had practised all of his jokes on Turukáno beforehand, making sure they were actually funny, and he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of you. Although he sometimes wondered if his brother was the right choice for this as he wasn’t exactly known for his sense of humour.

When the conversation came to a natural lull he glanced over at the minstrels and the other guests dancing to their harmonious music. He rose from his chair with determination. “Would you care for a dance, my lady?” He asked with a dramatic bow and extended his right hand to you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. “You know I can’t dance, Findekáno.” You grumbled. You had been over this countless times, he seemed to ask you to dance every time there was a chance and you tried to not read into it, even though you desperately wanted to. It’s not that you disliked dancing with him – quite the opposite, you cherished every moment you got to be this close to him – you just hated making a fool of yourself in front of him. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll show you. Also, it’s my Begetting Day, meaning you legally can’t deny my wishes.” He gave you his best puppy eyes and broke into a triumphant grin when you let out a resigned sigh. “Fine, but don’t be upset when I eventually trample your feet.”

To your credit, the dance went considerably better than you had thought – you only stepped on his feet two times and both times he laughed it off, assuring you it hadn’t hurt at all, though you suspected that was a lie. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” He said out of nowhere and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your insides melt a little at the contact. “This colour really suits you.” He continued and gave you an earnest smile. “Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself.” You replied a little bashfully. Friends give each other compliments, you reminded yourself, there’s nothing more to it. Right? He stopped his movements after a while and threw a look at a set of doors that led out to an empty balcony. “I could use some fresh air.” He declared. “Care to join me?” You nodded and he led you out to the cool evening air.

Findekáno leaned against the railing and you followed his example. “Thank you for coming today.” He said. “Of course. You’re my best friend, how couldn’t I?” There was a short pause. “Have you … ever thought about us being more than just friends?” He asked with bated breath. You blinked rapidly at him, not sure if you had heard him correctly. “What do you mean? Like … courting?” He nodded, eyes filled with hope and nervousness at the same time. You felt an aggressive blush creeping up your cheeks and averted your eyes. “Maybe.” You said barely audible. “What about you?” “I have. A lot.” He replied and reached for one of your hands. “(Y/N), I’m in love with you.” He finally confessed. “I have been for a long time, but I was scared that if I told you, it might ruin our friendship.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “But I’m tired of hiding my feelings and it’s okay if-“ “I love you, too.” You blurted out and covered your mouth in surprise. “You do?” He asked and you nodded your head vigorously. His face lit up brighter than both Laurelin and Telperion together and he let out a laugh that almost sounded giddy. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” He exclaimed and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tightly before loosening his grip a little. You looked up at him and found your gaze wandering between his eyes and his lips. Findekáno smirked knowingly. “Is there something on your mind?” He asked in a teasing tone. You bit your lower lip slightly. “Can I kiss you?” You asked while subconsciously gripping the front of his robes. “You most certainly can, melda.” He replied and leaned down to which you rose to the tips of your toes to meet him halfway.

All your fantasies paled in comparison to the real kiss you were sharing, and you wished it would never end. When your lips parted you reached up to caress his right cheek and he lightly leaned into the touch. “I love you.” You repeated in a whisper. “I love you, too.” He whispered back and in that moment nothing else mattered.

If either of you noticed your other two best friends, Angaráto and Aikanáro, lurking outside the doors and triumphantly exchanging money, you didn’t comment on it.

#tolkien #jrrt #silmarillion #fingon #findekáno #reader insert #fingon x reader

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youaintnothinbuta · 5 months

Note

Hello! I know you've written a lot of Jack Kelly lately, so please disregard this if you're feeling burnt out. I was wondering if you would be in the mood to write a Jack Kelly x reader where the reader is scarier to the newsies than Spot but during the strike, she and Jack start working closely together and it's clear that she's not all that bad, just tough on people that do her dirty.

“Who would have thought?” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: you and Jack are up all night together planning the way you’re going to stop the wagons. The morning after, the wagons have successfully been stopped, and the pair of you share an intimate moment of rest, as you realise you don’t always have to protect yourself from everyone.

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 908

Warnings: none, fluff, probably some typos you know meeee

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You sat together in a dimly lit alley that separated Brooklyn and Manhattan, with a map spread across a couple upside down milk crates.

Jack glanced at you, his cap casting a shadow over his eyes. “So, you got a plan?”

“Why am I here, again?” You sighed.

“Because, Y/N, you want better pay too, whether you admit it or not. And people listen to you.”

You studied the map intently, tracing the routes of the wagons with your finger. “Your area’s the smallest and theres more of you, I think your boys can handle that, we should be in Queens for when the bell rings.”

Jack nodded. “We need distractions, too. Get 'em looking the other way while we make our move.”

“Next time you speak, can you make it something helpful?” You snapped, his brows furrowing in response.

Hours passed, and the alley echoed with the soft murmur of your voices, punctuated by the occasional sound of a distant shout from the newsies preparing for the confrontation. The adrenaline built, but amidst the planning, a shift occurred – a subtle transformation in your disposition.

Jack stole a glance at you, a genuine curiosity in his eyes. “You know, you're kinda nice.”

“Nice?” You repeated.

“Yeah, you’re actually not as scary as everyone says.”

You looked up from the map, meeting his gaze. The walls you'd carefully built around yourself seemed to soften, if only for a moment. “We all got our roles to play, Jack.”

Jack leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “I've heard the stories. Brooklyn's enforcer, they call you. Meaner than Spot.”

A rare chuckle escaped your lips. “Spot's got his way of leading, I got mine. Keeps the streets in order.”

As the night wore on, the initial skepticism that Jack harbored began to dissipate. The shared purpose, the planning, and the unspoken camaraderie melted the icy reputation that preceded you.

Jack's playful banter continued, each word chipping away at the tough exterior you'd carefully crafted. “You gotta have a soft spot somewhere in you, you know.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “Maybe, but you'll never find it.”

The atmosphere shifted as the night wore on, the impending confrontation with the wagons looming over your plans. You were up late into the night, and then early into the morning, making sure every newsie knew what the plan was, in order to actually make this strike a success.

***

As you approached the Manhattan lodging house, Jack, with his cap pulled low to shield his eyes from the early morning sunlight, greeted you with a half-smile. The adrenaline that fueled the morning’s activities still pulsed through your veins, a shared victory in your tired yet satisfied eyes.

Jack spoke first, his voice raspy from the long night. “Well, we did it. Those wagons won't be rolling through today.”

You nodded, a sense of accomplishment washing over you. “Yeah, we did do it.”

The night's successful plan to halt the wagons had taken its toll, leaving both of you fatigued and in need of a moment of respite. Jack's room offered a brief refuge, away from the clamor of all the other newsies sharing stories and reveling in the victory.

As you entered, the worn-out furniture and scattered newspapers created a cocoon of familiarity. Jack, with a reassuring smile, gestured toward his bed, teasing you slightly, “Sit down, tiger. We've earned a break.”

The weariness weighed on your shoulders, and without resisting, you sank onto Jack's bed. You and Jack exchanged a glance, the unspoken acknowledgment of shared victories and silent pride.

Jack, with a knowing smile, settled beside you, his presence offering a sense of security that allowed your guard to momentarily slip away.

As your eyes fluttered closed, your body drifted closer to his. The protective aura he exuded made it easy to surrender to the exhaustion that had accumulated throughout the night. For once, it felt like you didn't have to protect yourself. Your head gently found its way to his chest, falling asleep curled up on him.

Unbeknownst to you, Jack, too, succumbed to the weariness. The room, draped in a calm silence, cradled the two of you in a moment of reprieve.

Time slipped away as both of you rested. Yet, as the morning sunlight continued its ascent, your brain had finally caught up to you. Panic momentarily gripped you as you realised you had fallen asleep with Jack.

Startled, you jumped off of him, the remnants of sleep dissipating quickly. “I— I shouldn't have—“

But before you could finish your sentence, Jack's reassuring voice cut through your anxiety. “Hey, settle down, tough girl. Our secret. You deserve this.“

His words lifted the weight off your shoulders. Jack pulled you back into his embrace, dispelling the fear that had momentarily clouded the room. Jack's arms wrapped around you once more, holding you close as you let your eyes fall shut again. You got comfortable, laying on his body, his fingers beginning to trace patterns on your back, causing you to let out a relaxed sigh.

“Who would have thought? Your soft spot is here, in my bed.” He whispered, teasing you.

“Wrong. I don’t have one, remember.” You mumbled, a small smile tugging on your lips.

“Yeah, sure.” Jack laughed.

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read-weep-repeat · 1 year

Text

A Letter of Affection (1)

Summary: A letter you never thought would be read turns your life upside down.

Warnings: Age regression, use of title “daddy”, pet spider.

_____________________________

The laptop burned bright luminescence at red eyes, signaling its bitter need for rest. You ignored the woeful cries of your battered keyboard. Pages needed to be written and editors needed to be satiated so that they could take red pens and slash through ideas, plots, characters, hopes, and dreams. You were on the final page of this month's deadline, perfectly timed for a much-needed vacation.

You finished as the sun rose and pressed send just as the clock struck seven. You leaned back into the plush comfort of your couch and looked across the room.

“Hanging in there, webster?”

Webster burrowed further into her substrate, only fuzzy legs visible. The tarantula's pink toes wiggled around the dirt before finally stilling. You smiled, eyes pinned on your companion as she started to snooze.

You moved your laptop to the side and fell back into plush pillows. You had no more work, no place to be, or responsibilities to fill. Webster's water bowl was full, Editors had their new pages, and you were free to do as you wanted. You sighed. Pulling yourself off the couch, you shuffled to your bedroom. A pink box stared at you from under your bed, waiting for you to slip and fall into its contents. You obliged and slid it across the soft carpet into the living room.

—--

"He's gonna love this." You whispered.

You threw the marker cap down onto the pink rug below you, that you were kneeling on. You had on a shirt two sizes too big, a unicorn displayed proudly on the front. fuzzy pink socks covered your feet while you rubbed them together to soothe your buzzing nerves.

But what if he didn't like it? What if he threw it out? Sure, the stickers were pretty, the glitter sparkly, and the contents sweet, but what if that wasn't enough?

"He not gonna love it." You cried, fat tears welling in your eyes. You wrapped your hands around your legs, burying your head in between your knees. Your shoulders shook as you whimpered.

Suddenly, through your bleary sight, you saw a glimpse of pink beneath the table. You pulled your head out from between your knees and bent down to the floor.

An envelope! Small and pink, it stuck out from the pile of crafting supplies strewn haphazardly across the floor.

You pulled it from the pile and set it atop the coffee table proudly.

"He gonna love. Gotta love. Daddy."

You caught yourself as you stuffed the letter full of your sweet words.

"He not daddy. Don't have daddy."

You shook your head, trying to focus your thoughts as you licked the envelope.

"Don't need daddy." You grumbled, stumbling up to your front door.

You wobbled as you put on your slippers. The apartment complex had four floors, the mail drop-off box being on the first.

"Ok," You whispered, "I can do this."

"I'm a big girl."

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

"Do you want to go through fan mail?" Hoseok asked, sipping a coffee as he slumped into the couch in Namjoon's office.

He looked up from his notebook. The lyrics weren't flowing like they needed to. Only a chorus had flowed from him in the 3 hours he'd been holed up. A break didn't sound so bad.

"As long as we go by the cafeteria." He eyed the cup in Hoseoks hand.

Hoseok gave him a slow nod and pulled himself up.

"Let's get going."

-----

Hoseok scoffed, tossing another letter in a pile of torn envelopes and thick pages.

"Some chicks are actually insane, man."

Namjoon hummed, fiddling with the half-empty cup. he moved the latest letter to the side, his pile a neat stack compared to Hobi's maimed mountain of parchment.

He grabbed the next without a glance and brought it forward.

A pink letter.

"Interesting." He mumbled, twirling the letter forward to see the bubbly handwriting.

“What’d you say?” Hoseok asked, sparing a glance up from scribbles on notebook pages.

"Oh, Nothing." Namjoon sputtered. He carefully opened the letter, trying his best not to rip into the handwriting.

He pulled the contents from the envelope, spraying pink glitter onto his sweatpants.

"Fuck." He whispered, brushing it away. Most of it fell to the floor, but pink sparkles still winked at him from his lap. He flipped the pages open. A scribble caught his eye.

Dear Mr. Joon!

The exclamation point was written in a blue glitter pen.

Cute. He thought. Creative. I haven't heard Mr. Joon before.

He kept reading.

Your music really helps me be small. I make things too! Big me is a writer, and my company isnt always super nice about my ideas. But I really like listening to your music, hopefully, your company is nice. I hope. Dont want you to be sad like I am sometimes. But its not like sad sad, being small makes it better. I get to watch cartoons and use a sippy and take a lot of naps. I even got special clothes!! Im wearin my unicorn shirt right now! I really like it.

Do you have things that make you feel better? I hope so. you deserve to feel nice! you seem like a really nice daddy man mr. joon. have a good day!

(y/n) (l/n)

He read it over. He read it over again.

I've never gotten a letter from a little. He mused, leaning forward in his seat. He put his chin in one of his hands and let his eyes wander to the sides of the page. Little stickers littered the edges. There were stars, pink flowers along the sides, and a small pink gemstone sticker in all four corners.

She's so sweet. He read it again. Daddy?

Does she not have a caregiver? He thought, eyes widening.

How sad. She seems like she'd be really nice and behaved. Not that brats are bad, I'd still take care of a little that was a brat. Only one as sweet as this though. He nodded to himself. Only one as sweet as this.

"You ready to go? I think I've had all I can take." Hoseok groaned, leaning back in his chair as he yawned.

Namjoon's head shot up. "Uh... Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, let's go."

As they made their way out, that pink letter crept into his pocket.

—-

“Goodnight, Hyung.”

“ ‘Night, Koo.”

Jungkook slipped into Namjoons arms. Affection was common in the family they built in dorm rooms, tours, and countless hours with no one but each other, and this was no different. Namjoon pulled away first and patted Jungkooks shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said. His hands were on his doorknob, already twisting it open before Jungkook could respond. He barely saw Jungkooks mouth twitch before the door was shut and locked. The letter was burning a hole in his pocket, pink turning to a fiery red as he threw it onto his desk.

Why this letter? He read at least 100 others before he got to it, it shouldn’t bother him like this. He shouldn’t be writing out a reply. He shouldn’t be asking about you. He shouldn’t be writing a return address. This was his real address, what the fuck was he doing?

He kept asking himself that as he snuck down the hallway, waiting until all the lights under his bandmates' doors went dark. He knew what they’d say if they caught him responding to fan mail. They’d snatch it from his hands, lecture him, give him the silent treatment, or read it. He didn’t know why, but the latter thought annoyed him most. This was for him. She wrote to Namjoon, not BTS.

The letter made a faint thump as he slid it into the mailbox. Stickers and a small tea bag added more substantial weight to the envelope. He sighed, nerves and contentment spread along his skin and raising goosebumps.

“No turning back now,” he whispered, before closing the mailroom door.

—----

You pulled your coffee mug closer to your chest, mittened hands encasing the warm glass. It was all you could do to keep from throwing it across the room. You stared at the mail on your kitchen counter, bills and junk mail spread out around a single blue envelope.

It couldn’t be. You had kicked yourself when you realized what little you had done, but decided that it would be fine. They didn’t actually read fan mail. No harm, No foul. Right?

Apparently fucking not. Your hands shook as you put down your mug and slid off your mittens. One finger gently reached out to graze the looping scrawl of the envelope's return address. This wasn’t the HYBE office. You remembered how you searched for the fanmail address in little space, distracted by toy ads and BTS fancams. This address was entirely new to you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you peeled away at the envelopes. You worked slowly at the paper to not rip it. Slowly, the contents revealed themselves. A sweet, honey-scented tea bag fell onto your counter. Then, a small sheet of stickers emerged. Little blue koalas stared back at you as you giggled.

“This is so cute.” You breathed. You dropped the stickers, letting them fall onto grey granite as you pulled a smooth paper from its blue container.

You slowly unfolded it, and your breath hitched.

Dear, (y/n)

#letter mc #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #tw age regression #yandere bts x reader #yandere namjoon

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succubusphan · 4 months

Text

Sweet Juliet

Summary: Dan is a baker in his thirties, feeling the weight of the passage of time on his shoulders, living a content yet uneventful life until a mysterious man takes it upon himself to whisk him away.

Rating: G

Tags/warnings: Strangers to lovers, meet cute, non youtuber au.

Author's Note: Written for the @phandomgiftexchange as a gift to @husbants. Thank you for being amazing Nikki and for continuing this lovely tradition. I hope you enjoy it! thank you @effingmeteors for reading this over.

Total Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Ao3

Dan pulled out a massive cake from the oven and set it on the counter before he dropped it by accident - again. He shut the oven door and straightened up with a groan, hearing his back pop. “Jesus fuck,” he mumbled. No matter what his nNan said, sometimes Dan couldn’t help but feel age catching up to him. Maybe thirty years old was too old to be working this much, as Adrian said, but he just loved baking and running his little coffee shop, meeting new people and learning about their lives when they were up to talking or just observing them and coming up with his own stories for them.

You see, Dan was proud of the crowd his shop attracted with its various plants and speciality baking, the Colombian coffee and the books readily available for those who wished to immerse themselves in an alternate universe. His patrons were usually bohemian university students, established couples on a quiet date out, and artists who wished to spend hours enjoying the place and eating his various creations as they sketched a new piece. Sadly, the piano he had available hadn’t been touched in the three years since the grand opening, but he could dream.

The bell on the door dinged welcoming the first clients of the day and pulling him from his thoughts. He fixed his posture and smiled widely. “Good morning, Adeleine, how is Richard fairing?” Dan asked his older neighbour and frequent visitor.

“Oh, you know how he is! He says he will be fine but I told him to get some proper rest until Monday. His back is not what it used to and he needs to accept that. We are all ageing as it is,” Adeleine said, swishing her little coin purse as she looked at the pastry display.

“You are quite right,” Dan nodded, hating the fact that he had so much in common with the elderly couple. “What would you like this time?”

“I’ll take 4 pain au chocolates for Richard, and for me… Ugh, I shouldn’t but I can’t resist your eclairs. You are simply too talented for your own good.”

“You flatter me,” Dan said, waving her off as he picked the pastries one by one and put them in a small golden tray with an intricate flower design on the edges. “You get one extra just for being my favourite patron.” He winked.

Adeleine laughed loudly but cleared her throat when she saw a man walk in. Dan hadn’t seen him around before but the guy was breathtakingly gorgeous and if the look she was giving Dan was anything to go by, Adeleine agreed. Dan took a calming breath, trying to keep his nerves in check but he almost burst out laughing when she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Anything else?” Dan asked her with an awkward cough.

“No, that’ll be all, sweety,” she said, grabbing the now packaged pastries and handing him the money. “Thank you, see you on Monday!”

“Of course! Send Richard my well wishes,” Dan smiled.

She nodded and made her way to the exit way too slowly for her usual pace. Dan rolled his eyes and snorted, knowing that Adelaine was just trying to have more time to ogle the newcomer.

“Welcome to Sweet Juliet,” Dan said with what he hoped was a warm smile instead of the painful expression he was picturing in his mind. “What would you like to enjoy?”

The man lifted a carefully manicured eyebrow and gave him a sly smile. Dan had never been ashamed of the little phrases he had crafted to make his store special, but he did feel the heat rising to his cheeks at the expression the guy made.

“Hi,” he said, leaning on the pastry display. “I’m new in the area but I’ve heard good reviews. What would you recommend for me?”

Dan felt all moisture leaving his throat as he followed the line of the guy’s neck past the two open buttons of his shirt, briefly catching a glimpse of a rosy nipple. Not that Dan was being a creep or anything, but he was just too beautiful and the way he was standing and his inky black hair and blue eyes and -”

“Dan?” he asked.

“Oh,” Dan blinked repeatedly. He had spaced out for a bit. “How do you know my name?”

“It’s in your tag,” the guy laughed. He actually laughed, as if he hadn’t already thought Dan was a fucking dork for his stupid little greeting.

Dan sputtered at his own stupidity and decided that the safest option was to pretend nothing happened. “Right, anyway… I recommend the mocha latte with the Sweet Juliet Tray. If you like sweets, that will give you a taste of everything.

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled. “When do you get off?”

Dan gasped, his eyes wide as saucers. “What?!”

“From work! Sorry, I’m just -” he laughed, looking a little shy for the first time. “I’m so sorry! Let’s start over, I’m Phil.”

“Alright,” Dan smiled. Realising he was actually the culprit of the misunderstanding, of course, Phil hadn’t been asking about that, but since he took the fault for it, Dan was not going to argue on the matter. He needed to at least pretend to have a brain to impress this guy. “Hi, Phil…”

“Hi, Dan! I’ll take that mocha with the Juliet tray. And if you’d be so kind, I would like your number, Dan.” Phil gave him a half smile, turning the charm on once again but Dan was not going to make it that easy for him.

“Hmm… How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Dan asked, only half joking. The guy was too fucking handsome to be chasing little old Dan, on the other hand, people die every day and who was Dan to refuse such an opportunity. Was there really a better way to go?

“I think people would find me easily,” Phil said, his smile dropping slightly.

Dan wondered about the change in his demeanour but tried to keep the joke rolling. “Are you bad at hiding?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Phil shrugged, his smile entirely vanished now.

“Well, I’ll think about it while you enjoy your mocha, Phil.” Dan said, trying not to sound too bummed about his terrible fail at flirting. How did he even manage to fuck up when he had already been invited to go out on a date?

Phil shook his head, his expression softening. “I should have brought flowers, but how could I’ve ever known I would be meeting you?”

“Wow, you’re really good at this,” Dan commented as he started to prepare the order. Maybe it was best to just let things be. “But I’m afraid you’re coming a bit too strong.”

“Alright, alright,” Phil said, raising his hands. “I’ll just find myself a table for now.”

“Ok, make sure to check our book selection,” he said, but Phil was already scanning the bookcase in search of a title until he gasped, and hurried back to his table with a thick tome in his hands.

Dan cocked his head as he read the title of the book in Phil’s hands: “The Lord of the Rings.” Who hasn’t read the Lord of the Rings and why read it at a coffee shop? He put the mug and plate with pastries on a tray and brought them over to Phil’s table, which was surprisingly tucked away in the darkest corner of the shop. After setting everything down, he turned on the lamp closest to the table to make sure Phil didn’t strain his eyes too much. “Enjoy!”

“Thank you!” Phil said and looked back down to the book, but when Dan stood there awkwardly, he just let out a little sigh and looked into Dan’s eyes. “Yes?” His smile was polite, yet small. It wasn’t as bright as when he’d walked into the store and flirted with him.

“Um… may I ask why did you pick that book?”

“I just never got around to read it and I thought it would be a good idea since I’ve… since I’m around at the moment.”

“How are you planning to finish it?”

Phil shrugged. “Why? Do you burn the books that have been read or something?”

Dan snorted. “No, not at all.”

“Then I will just have to keep coming over to eat sweets and read here… unless that would be a problem for you.”

“That’s why the books are there!” Dan waved him off. “It’s just that other people are also reading the same book so bookmarks tend to be moved and such, it’s a bit annoying unless you remember exactly where you left off.”

“Ah, I see. I guess I’ll have to write it down somewhere.”

“Not in the book, please!” Dan gave him a horrified look.

“What do you take me for? An animal?” Phil asked, with an amused smile.

“You’d be surprised at what people are capable of,” Dan said, sheepishly. “Now I have to watch everyone like a hawk just in case.”

“Will you be watching me then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Think about that date, will you?”

“I’ll think about it,” Dan said as he rolled his eyes and smiled.

And so their little dance began. Phil came to have coffee and eat sweets with the excuse of catching up on his reading but spent at least half of the time watching Dan and giving him little smiles or holding his gaze until Dan began to squirm and blush. He tried his best not to humour Phil, but he couldn’t help the way his smile grew little by little each time Phil came over and asked him out once again.

One fateful Monday afternoon, Dan couldn’t keep his eyes off the door, silently telling himself how pathetic it was that he was desperate to see Phil again, but it seemed that he would not be coming. Two, his usual arrival time, came and went, then three and four, and by five Dan had already lost hope. Maybe Phil had finally had enough of him.

The sound of the bell startled Dan, bringing him back to reality but his expression rapidly morphed into a smile when he saw Phil walking in. The frown on his usually happy and composed face worried Dan but he tried to lighten the mood, joking with Phil, but this time it was like talking to a wall. There was no reciprocity, Phil looked almost on the verge of crying as he got his usual order and lost himself in the Lord of the Rings universe, not even bothering to look up from the book or say goodbye before leaving.

Having decided that maybe rejecting Phil had been a mistake, Dan promised himself that he would give Phil his number next time, or even ask him out himself if it came to it, but after two months since Phil’s last visit, he realised that the opportunity had slipped through his fingers and he had only himself to blame.

---

Dan looked out the window as he mopped the floors, silently hating the raging storm bending the trees over, dragging trash bins across the road… causing his clients to have muddled the floors inside the shop and stayed over for the heater alone.

The door announced someone’s arrival. At first, Dan couldn’t tell who it was but he was also upset that the person walked in with their umbrella still open and dripping everywhere. He was about to make a snarky remark when the umbrella was finally set aside and Phil looked him in the eye with a loaded expression.

“Can I stay here until it stops raining?” he asked, water droplets running down his face, his hair sticking to his forehead just as if he hadn’t even tried to use an umbrella.

“Yeah, of course!” Dan said, feeling a bit awkward but still happy to see Phil after so long.

Phil’s leg bounced way more than necessary as he waited for his order, then Dan handed him a towel, which Phil took with little reluctance. The book, however, he never made any move to grab it back.

“Have you abandoned Riverdale?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I thought it was for the best,” Phil said, understanding the real meaning behind the question.

“I see,” Dan replied, pressing his lips into a line. “I thought we could speak next time.”

“Why? What changed?” Phil asked, giving him an odd look.

“Nothing! We just got to know each other a bit better.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Phil asked.

“Yes, why would I lie?” Dan said, taken aback by whatever accusation Phil was throwing his way.

Phil stood from his seat and came to stand in front of Dan. They were so close Dan could smell his expensive perfume; he inhaled deeply without meaning to and let his eyes fall shut. “Do you know who I am?” Phil pressed.

Dan’s eyes snapped open. “No…? Should I?”

Shaking his head, Phil walked over to the piano and started playing a song that sounded strangely familiar. It was, in fact, one of Dan’s new favourite songs. If he was remembering correctly, the original piece had come out as an instrumental but two weeks after, another version with lyrics was released, it was said to be a collaboration between the pianist and his sister-in-law in honour of the newest member of their family. The pianist in question had teleported to the top of the charts overnight, gotten a record deal, launched an international tour and - apparently - gotten a bunch of stalkerish fans who wouldn’t leave him alone. “Are you… Phil Lester? The guy who made this song? THE Phil Lester?”

“Yes,” said Phil shyly. “I stopped going out much since the song blew up, but this coffee shop served me well to hide from fans several times since I moved to the area, that’s why I kept coming, but my address was leaked a while ago and I had to move away again. Since you had rejected me so many times, I just took it as a sign that we should stop playing games if things are not going anywhere, you know? We’re a bit too old for games anyway.”

“That is true. I should have considered things more carefully,” Dan admitted. “For some reason, I thought we would have more time and things would just flow between us.”

“We ran out of time two months ago, but still, when the storm almost knocked me over, all I could think about was you, how you were doing… and I had to see you, one last time,” Phil said, biting his lip.

Dan’s eyes and heart dropped to the fucking floor, he wanted to kick himself for missing his chance with Phil.

“I had to see if you still made the best sweets around.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Dan laughed and swatted at Phil’s chest. “Is that really the reason or did you just have to show me your “Mr Darcy in the rain” look?” Dan joked.

Phil looked at his reflection in the window and laughed. “I do look kind of hot.”

“Kind of?” Dan scoffed. He walked over to the door and locked it before walking back to Phil and pressing their lips together in a sweet yet brief kiss. “Why don’t you go dry yourself in the bathroom? I’ll make us something nice for dinner.”

“What about dessert?” Phil asked.

“We’ll have plenty of that,” Dan said.

Phil smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Yum!”

“I meant the cakes!” Dan laughed, but before he could continue to defend himself Phil pulled him into a heated kiss, though the heat lasted very shortly since Phil was very wet and got Dan entirely soaked as well, resulting in Dan chasing him around the shop with his favourite spatula in search of revenge. It was a good start for the rest of their lives.

#phanfic #phanfiction #mine #phan #succubusphan fics

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