#it's actually enjoyable to use your brain other ways sometimes

[discluded]

Hi! I really like your blog! Can I ask what is your opinion in regards to the recent BOC and Chinese statement issue? Please feel free to ignore if not appropriate ❤️

Hi Anon,

Thanks for asking politely. I'll answer because I can present it as a business case study which allows me to talk about BOC's failures somewhat objectively. It's clear at this point it doesn't matter how much feedback BOC gets from fans, so at least hopefully some of y'all can learn some things. *jazz hands* Didacticism.

Warning to everyone else this does not mean I am opening my inbox to complaints about how BOC sucks or how certain fans are entitled 🤪 I will block you. Open your own blog.

Be On Cloud's Communications Crisis – Business Case Study

So first, we need to define a couple of things: what is the difference between communications, marketing, and PR. Other folks with experience, please feel to add your opinion too, but how I see the difference is:

Communications is usually the the written or spoken content by which events/occurrences of a company are shared with both those internal and external to the company.

Marketing focuses both on the process by which that information is disseminated outwardly, and also usually aims at a high level to sell you an idea or product. Often the goal of a marketing campaign is explicitly measurable, whether it's in sales, conversions, email opens, etc.

Public relations (PR) is the process by which a company aims to maintain a positive public image to those outside the company

As you can see, those each have quite a bit of overlap with each other while also being distinct. Depending on the size of the company, each of those teams can be the same or differentiated. The fourth piece I want to add on to this is strategy. All three of the above are the actual day-to-day implementation of work, while strategy is the overarching goal posts by which they operate. Executives (like Mile being a CEO) influence strategy. When things go wrong, new strategy needs to be developed quickly and implemented.

(Aside: Mile has mentioned that he is an executive at BOC, but I want to clarify "executive" positions may also include being on the executive board/board of directors, who advise on strategy to the CEO or possibly of another department, and wouldn't have influence over marketing/comms. He isn't doing that work at his own businesses so I can't imagine he'd run comms for another one.)

The Earlier Crisis: Global Auditions 🤦🏻‍♀️

It might help to read these as well: The 6 Best PR Crisis Management & Communication Cases and PR Crisis Communication & Management Planning

Here are important key takeaways from the planning link:

Sound familiar? :')

I'll keep this brief, allow me to highlight a practical differentiation of the four of the above succinctly and is something the fandom collectively can agree on was a massive comms flop and PR nightmare.

Strategy: We want to recruit new talent for an upcoming series as well as generate fan hype for this series/season

Marketing: We will announce global auditions for this series/season

Communications: Unfortunately forgot to have marketing, which handle the social media posts, mention that "global" means three cities in Asia, as well as only looking for men between 16-22 despite most fans -- who saw the post -- being female.

PR: Not only makes the company's strategy look inadequate by the details of the audition only following the SM marketing announcement rather than sharing those details first/simultaneously to manage fans' expectations but also makes BOC look sexist. They haven't recovered. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I started with this one because where it went wrong was way more clean to see the breakdown.

The Case: What happened on Sept 12

BOC somehow managed to generate a PR crisis out of something that originally had the fans rallying around them, which is...impressive(ly bad).

I'm not going to document the triggering event too much but at approximately 10pm on Sept 12, stalkers tried to break into Be On Cloud's offices. I maintain my stance that it's not the company's fault or responsibility this happened, especially since these people obviously didn't succeed into getting into the building.

BOC issued a statement in Thai condemning these actions and immediately issued a following statement in Chinese on Twitter, due to the stalkers being Chinese-speakers. Obviously, a large number of KPTS fans are Chinese-speakers, but some Chinese fans pointed out that there was no immediately second translation/third set of tweet of the statement issued in English on Twitter which a large portion of the KPTS fanbase also used, especially on Twitter.

Chinese fans immediately disclaimed the stalkers as being fans but also felt they were specifically being targeted/attacked for the behavior of the stalkers.

Sept 13: The next morning, BOC issued three statements, in Thai, English, and Chinese this time. Many Chinese fans felt that the explanation in the Chinese statement was both overly brief compared to the English version and comparatively aggressive/unapologetic. BOC stood their ground and did not issue any more statements. Chinese (former?)fans then began to unfollow Apo on Weibo as well as perform a number of visible acts of quitting fandom.

What broke down? (Hint: Everything, for no reason)

I'm not going to give out too much free advice here, but here we go.

Strategy: They clearly don't have a PR crisis strategy despite the fact this isn't the first go-around. It's pretty clear they likely don't even have a PR strategy most of the time and are flying by the seat of their pants. Everything they do in terms of comms is almost reactive rather than proactive.

Marketing: The dissemination of information via socmed isn't terrible; that being said, there appears to be very little discipline over what is being sent through which channels such as if it's vetted at all (ie, the admission of being heated in the Chinese statement on Sept 13) and how well it's vetted (eg, wrongfully tagging accounts of their talent). There's a reason a lot of companies' CEOs have a personal twitter account. It allows a reiteration of statements, especially apologies, to be more personalized. Actually a lot of fans interpret Mile and Apo going online and making statements as doing damage control for BOC. Whether or not that's true, it's certainly unwise to use your talent to do that rather than your CEO who's ego should be able to take it

Communications: I'm not bothering to read the statements in depth. But It's not unreasonable for your audience to have the expectation that what's posted in one language is reasonably equivalent in other languages. Don't treat your audience like they're dumb, can't speak other languages, or don't have access to Google translate.

PR: BOC is creating these PR crises, not managing them. This isn't even the first one they've put themselves through. I think that's incriminating enough how good they are at PR.

Do I have an opinion? Sure.

Can I see where the Chinese fans are coming from? Actually yes. Fans want and deserve to be treated equally.

Do I think they're being unreasonable overreacting? Absolutely. Speaking as a Chinese-speaker too. If your personal reaction to BOC's comms team messing up is more heated than how your feel about the actors you care about being threatened by stalkers ... that's a lot.

That being said, I'm not going to waste my energy judging how individuals handle their lives or emotions. I am, like many fans, deeply concerned about how BOC is mishandling comms because BOC is not going away (for now).

Fans say lots of reactionary things, but the process by which BOC's comms team is failing is so overwhelmingly loud and public that I'm here writing a business case study about it. And that's part of PR too. Fans are always reactive -- this is not limited to KPTS or BOC. There are publicists and managers that manage Beyonce, BTS, Taylor Swift, etc. who all have loud fanbases. It's embarrassing to see a talent agency fuck up so badly it then begins to reflect on the talent. That's not just about fan reactions. BOC really needs to hire a consulting company and a new director of communications.

Should we be worried about the 2023 Film/KPTS Season 2

Surprisingly: probably not. BOC has at least two branches: a management (talent) branch and a production (art) branch. We see they're capable of handling the art.

This discrepancy between the art/artists being actually emotionally effective while the marketing side of the company just being a disaster is very reminiscent of the creators who work on Disney movies and Disney's extremely weird marketing team/s.

I'm sure Mile and Apo will do their utmost to bring us a beautiful piece of work. We likely just have to suffer BOC's continuous comms disasters while they do it.

#be on cloud #pr #marketing #business #business case study #business analysis #pr crisis #crisis management #the way this is fun for me because i spent all day staring at code #trying to find missing commas and typos #it's actually enjoyable to use your brain other ways sometimes #hope you learned something

[honeyhotteoks]

always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date. 

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either. 

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers. 

You just wish you never told Mingyu. 

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid. 

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure. 

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you. 

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it. 

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile. 

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth. 

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought. 

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you. 

You do fast math, panic math. 

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home. 

Your stomach churns. 

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you. 

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain. 

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this. 

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots. 

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call. 

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing. 

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride. 

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box. 

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone. 

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,” 

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?” 

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?” 

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop. 

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys. 

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops. 

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,” 

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” 

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,” 

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming. 

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first. 

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress. 

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care. 

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless. 

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.  

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately. 

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel. 

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse. 

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill. 

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air. 

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather. 

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way. 

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?” 

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,” 

He blinks, “y/n,” 

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,” 

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality. 

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you. 

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,” 

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position. 

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.  

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?” 

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red. 

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“I know,” 

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.” 

Oh. 

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,” 

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words. 

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,” 

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact. 

“I know,” You sigh. 

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?” 

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,” 

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish. 

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,” 

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.” 

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,” 

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait. 

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory. 

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,” 

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone. 

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,” 

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little. 

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,” 

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road. 

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,” 

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile. 

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,” 

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,” 

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?” 

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,” 

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave. 

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,” 

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in. 

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain. 

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.” 

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?” 

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,” 

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,” 

“I know,” You breathe. 

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?” 

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,” 

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,” 

 “I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,” 

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,” 

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?” 

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.” 

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly. 

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,” 

His hand tightens on yours. 

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,” 

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour. 

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you. 

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,” 

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,” 

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.” 

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,” 

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green. 

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,” 

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty. 

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,” 

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?” 

“Shut up,” He sighs. 

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?” 

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?” 

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,” 

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,” 

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,” 

He grimaces, “Ugh,” 

“Exactly,” 

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,” 

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal. 

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?” 

“You want to come up?” 

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol. 

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times. 

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,” 

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here. 

“So,” He clears his throat lightly. 

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,” 

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride. 

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding. 

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go. 

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,” 

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands. 

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps. 

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,” 

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,” 

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,” 

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?” 

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,” 

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom. 

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself. 

But then he laughs again. 

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?” 

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf. 

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,” 

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign. 

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile. 

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,” 

He nods, “I remember,” 

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,” 

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,” 

“Mm,” You laugh. 

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee. 

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise. 

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’” 

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,” 

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,” 

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,” 

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little. 

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,” 

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,” 

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?” 

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,” 

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you. 

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,” 

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back. 

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,” 

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue. 

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.” 

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,” 

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,” 

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee. 

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question. 

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods. 

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”  

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash. 

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,” 

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply. 

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning. 

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it. 

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him. 

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least. 

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” 

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,” 

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,” 

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,” 

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has. 

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours. 

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist. 

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?” 

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird. 

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?” 

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in. 

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,” 

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you. 

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,” 

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,” 

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw. 

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,” 

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already. 

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants. 

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss. 

“God,” He shivers. 

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,” 

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away. 

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,” 

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,” 

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back. 

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,” 

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth. 

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart. 

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms. 

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip. 

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?” 

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small. 

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,” 

“Okay,” 

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?” 

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards. 

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.” 

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,” 

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze. 

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,” 

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?” 

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,” 

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,” 

“Yeah,” 

“And you wanted me?” 

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,” 

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,” 

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,” 

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity. 

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,” 

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out. 

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,” 

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat. 

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,” 

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders. 

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,” 

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,” 

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again. 

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,” 

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,” 

“Baby?” 

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,” 

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley. 

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,” 

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?” 

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,” 

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you. 

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,” 

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?” 

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?” 

“Please,” You whisper. 

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric. 

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess. 

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,” 

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else. 

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,” 

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,” 

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,” 

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises. 

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,” 

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again. 

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction. 

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently. 

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,” 

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,” 

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

  “Can I eat you out?” 

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,” 

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you. 

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you. 

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,” 

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze. 

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,” 

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile. 

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” 

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly. 

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,” 

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly. 

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,” 

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?” 

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam. 

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip. 

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this. 

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.  

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little. 

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,” 

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?” 

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high. 

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?” 

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” You kiss him back. 

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast. 

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,” 

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,” 

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?” 

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,” 

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?” 

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,” 

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,” 

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,” 

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,” 

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth. 

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,” 

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,” 

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue. 

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you. 

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,” 

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,” 

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts. 

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap. 

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,” 

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,” 

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder. 

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit. 

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,” 

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,” 

Everything you are is trembling in his hands. 

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,” 

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin. 

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,” 

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open. 

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,” 

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,” 

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,” 

He sighs, “This pussy,” 

“Cheol,” You blush hard. 

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,” 

“Anything?” 

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.” 

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?” 

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,” 

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,” 

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench. 

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen. 

You want him inside you so badly you could cry. 

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his. 

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder. 

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs. 

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,” 

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,” 

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,” 

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?” 

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder. 

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?” 

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand. 

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,” 

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls. 

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper. 

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,” 

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,” 

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

Your muscles clench down around his fingers. 

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?” 

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,” 

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?” 

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again. 

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,” 

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you. 

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz. 

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again. 

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you. 

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams. 

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go. 

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease. 

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down. 

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms. 

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,” 

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?” 

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,” 

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?” 

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone. 

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,” 

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him. 

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,” 

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock. 

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,” 

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him. 

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,” 

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him. 

He nods, just a little. 

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,” 

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers. 

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this. 

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,” 

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?” 

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,” 

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs. 

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel. 

“y/n,” He pants tightly. 

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down. 

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,” 

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early. 

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,” 

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,” 

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again. 

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips. 

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest. 

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,” 

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,” 

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards. 

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,” 

Your eyes slam shut. 

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,” 

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming. 

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”  

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,” 

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

  “So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss. 

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,” 

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm. 

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,” 

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you. 

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,” 

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together. 

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move. 

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,” 

You laugh against him, “Next time?” 

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,” 

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,” 

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,” 

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly. 

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,” 

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,” 

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,” 

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,” 

“Good,” He sighs. 

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,” 

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,” 

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs. 

Maybe you could rally. 

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,” 

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,” 

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing. 

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed. 

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. 

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine. 

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads. 

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,” 

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest. 

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake. 

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention. 

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,” 

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,” 

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,” 

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,” 

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,” 

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups. 

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,” 

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,” 

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?” 

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest. 

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,” 

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog. 

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel. 

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,” 

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks. 

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,” 

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,” 

“You what,” You blink. 

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,” 

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go. 

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,” 

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side. 

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue. 

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,” 

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you. 

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,” 

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap. 

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,” 

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?” 

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,” 

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand. 

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,” 

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,” 

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch. 

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #seventeen ff #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #svt ff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups fic #scoups smut #scoups ff #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff

[littlejuicebox]

The Little Things

Summary: Sometime in Act 1, Astarion is beginning to realize he may like you more than he thought.

Tags/Warnings: pure fluff, feelings realization, sexual innuendo, in game spoilers

*

Astarion’s nice, simple plan is falling apart at the seams. He isn’t quite sure when it began or how you slowly wormed your way into his heart like the parasite wormed its way into his brain.

He thinks it must have started shortly after the night you two spent together in the clearing. Perhaps the day you drew his scars for him in the dirt?

You notice the little things about him, and it flusters him entirely. No one else has ever bothered to pay attention long enough to catch all the subtleties you seem to see without missing a beat.

*

You notice he makes tea but never drinks it. It tastes like dirty water on his vampiric tongue, but he loves the smell and the warmth. One day you bring him a cup of tea and urge him to try it.

“This one will be different, I promise.” You say, and you smile at him so sweetly it’s impossible to refuse.

He quirks a brow but obliges. One small sip reveals that this tea is palatable… in fact, it’s actually enjoyable.

“What’s in this? Better not be a sore attempt at poisoning me.” He murmurs with a playful smirk before taking another long sip of the warm liquid.

You grin and show him your finger, where the smallest pinprick can be seen.

Blood. Of course.

His face feels hot, like patches of warmth are spreading across his cheeks. It must be the tea.

“Clever pup,” He chuckles, “I— thank you.”

*

One day you’re simply walking by him in camp, returning from a quick foraging trip in the woods. He’s perched upon a stool, reading a book, and drinking the remnants of his morning tea you’d brought to him just over an hour ago.

It’s a lovely little treat every morning. He’s secretly delighted every time you bring it by.

You pause and smile, “Enjoying your book?”

He hums a soft yes and dog ears the page before clasping it shut to acknowledge you.

“Quite, darling. And you? Enjoying your… digging in the mud?” He asks, cocking his head just slightly as he examines the small basket of potatoes you’d procured from the earth.

“It’s not so bad,” You laugh, and then your eyes flicker to his book, “Oh, I almost forgot.”

You rustle through your bag and withdraw a thin strip of burgundy fabric, offering it to him.

Astarion takes the gift. It’s a bookmark. There’s a delicate letter A stitched in gold thread at the top of the small trinket. He’d spent a few hours last week showing you how to sew and embroider little details.

“I noticed you always fold the corners of the pages, and Gale is always grumbling about it when you return his books, so…” You shrug and smile again, “Plus, it’s a small thank you. For the sewing lessons.”

His face feels hot again. It must be the tea. Again.

“Ah, yes. I shall be sure to use it now, then. Don’t want to risk angering the wizard and getting us all blown up!” He jokes as he places the bookmark atop his book, mostly as an excuse to break away from your gaze, which is causing him to feel flustered. He doesn’t know why.

You laugh softly and step closer to him, “It’s not as good as your work.”

You absentmindedly take his hand and turn it, revealing the inner sleeve of his shirt. Your fingers trace along the cuff, admiring a piece of his own embroidery he’d done a few days ago.

“I saw you stitched these little flowers on your shirt the other day. Can you show me how to do that?” You ask, bringing your eyes back up to meet his.

He swallows. Your hand is still resting upon his wrist.

“O-of course, darling. Anytime.” He responds, still thrown. How had you noticed that? His skin tingles from where your fingers had grazed against him.

But it isn’t a bad sensation. He quite liked it, actually.

You grin and then hoist your basket back up before bidding goodbye and walking over to show Gale your harvest. Astarion is left befuddled and simply staring as you walk away.

*

That same night you’re by the campfire, and Astarion is showing you how to stitch small flowers on a scrap of cloth. You’re leaning over his shoulder, watching his work intently. The proximity is making his fingers fumble more than they usually would, but you don’t seem to notice.

“You filed your nails today,” You remark, absently, as you watch his skilled fingers work their creative magic.

He blinks and pauses mid-stitch.

His nails? You noticed the length of his nails?

“I wasn’t aware they were so obscenely long that it would be so obvious.” He responds, his nose wrinkling just slightly. Perhaps his standards of cleanliness and appearance had fallen in the wilds.

“Oh, it’s not that,” You reply, your tone almost dreamy as you continue to observe the rogue, “I just look at your hands a lot.”

Astarion’s finger slips and he pierces himself with the needle. He winces slightly as he withdraws the sliver from his hand.

“I— what?” He asks, pausing his work to assess you with wide, blinking eyes.

You hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud. You’d been entranced and disarmed by the steady rhythm of his hands and the smell of Astarion’s freshly washed skin.

He’d started a new bar of soap today. You could tell because he smelled different when he returned from the river. You’d complimented the new fragrance and he’d stared at you for a moment too long, eyebrows furrowed. You worried you’d somehow offended him. And then he laughed and made some innuendo-filled joke about cleanliness being next to godliness.

He’s waiting for you to respond, the metal sliver of a needle held at rest between his thumb and forefinger.

“I…” You start, and you feel a blush creep across your face, “You have pretty hands.”

You finish the statement lamely and with a small shrug.

One, two, three beats of silence.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes are staring into your own; he’s thinking… deeply.

Before you process what’s happening, the rogue has already abandoned his project in the dirt and brought both his hands to cup your face, plunging forward to press a kiss against your lips. His tongue slides into your mouth, urgently dancing against your own.

You two hadn’t been physical since the night of the Tiefling party. He hadn’t propositioned you again, and you were far too nervous to attempt propositioning him. You are entirely caught off guard by his advances but eagerly receive his affections anyway.

When Astarion finally breaks away from you, his face is hot. He knows it isn’t the tea this time.

He wants to show you what else he can do with his pretty hands.

#get loved loser #get fucking cherished #astarion fanfic #baulders gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion reader insert #astarion x f!reader #astarion fluff #Astarion feelings realization #act 1 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion pov #astarion comfort #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion/reader #Astarion/you #astarion x reader insert #x reader

[linnienin]

⁓⁕🍷 🌸 V e n u s ⁕ a n d ⁕ h o w ⁕ y o u ⁕ c h i l l 🌸 🍷⁕⁓

Disclaimer: Take what resonates. I'm not a professional astrologer, i just am an avid researcher and i use my personal experience when writing my posts (Also, pls, don't copy my work, i spend lot of time on it, thanks)

Ahhh Venus, the planet of love. We use it to talk about our relationships and misadventures in our love life. But it also is the planet of feminine energy, enjoyment, relaxation and indulgence. How do you chill using your Venusian energy? Let's find out looking at your Venus's sign and degree

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Aries / 1-13-25 degrees : *aggresively flying on the couch* play TV, *loud setting on*, watch the tv for 1 minute, gets bored, *roll off the couch*, goes to the kitchen, sees people, start a little chase (Jason Momoa meme entered the caption) 👀👐. After annoying people for a bit, do a little workout, tries to lift a 700 kg cause they *confident*, fail, they still confident, opt for the 0.5 kg, now they happy 😊💪. Dance lover. Enjoy drinking energy drinks. Not really a sipp-er, more of a chugg-er lmao. Carbs are their heaven, they cannot have enough (cause they move a lot, they need the energyy). When laying on the sofa need to put their head on someone else's shoulder or legs or head to feel safe and receive the physical contact they really crave. Enjoy taking short cold showers. Like playing chess (they're good at strategizing and know when to attack and they're bold about it). Cut their hair as a relaxing activity (until they have no hair left to cut lol), likes dyeing them too, preferabily with bolder colours.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Taurus / 2-14-26 degrees: The yawn-er. They're MASTER at chilling. They chill doing everything, i'm not kidding, are they at home, are they at work? They be chilling allll the time. Lovers of the sofa, bed, and others soft big surfaces. Chill by taking their time doing everything, they be starting cooking at 9 a.m. to serve a meal at 1 p.m. ✨Sloth with grace✨. Quality over quantity. Enjoy passing time doing nothing...literally. They be like fixating on a thing and looking at it for an hour straight. Mad control of their focus. Meditating without realizing It. Probably sip chamomile. They like to think time doesn't exist, they got all the time in the world (until they wake up one day, look into the mirror and realize they forgot to shave their mustache for all this time). Hella romantic, enjoy picking up flowers, endless walks in nature, veery slowly, they be stopping every 2x3 to admire a little bug passing by.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Gemini / 3-15-27 degrees: Tea time with their personalities. Lmao, no but they literally chill by checking in with their thoughts and their ideas. Loves listening to podcasts and documentaries. Multitasking hobbies. Yup, i have no clue how they even relax by doing 1738283 things at a time but it's a way to shut down their thoughts for a while. Yeah, i know, i just told you they chill by thinking too, but sometimes it becomes too much and they have to switch the brain off. Relax by painting their nails. Get experimental with makeup. Write fanfics but leave them unfinished 👀. Admire their pretty handwriting. Enjoy reading and talking about gossip a looot, too much hehe. Like to play games that require a broad knowledge on everything (ex Trivia). Thinking about doing stuff but actually not doing it lmfao, they just love to think about soo many ideas, that is a way to relax, but then they don't even write them down and poof, they're gone and they can't remember them and they get mad about it :(

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Cancer / 4-16-28 degrees : Cuddling with their pillow 24/7 (cause deep down they feel alone... 🥺). Play animal crossing. Imagine their future family, even tho they're actually stuck in the past lol. Most likely to binge watch series for a whole day and get emotional about it because they get too attached to the characters. If they could they'd never leave the house...ever lmao, total homebodies. Relaxing by spending time alone or with very closed ones, friends/family. Probably likes to collect plushies, funko pops, or mini cute figures of their favourite fictional characters ✨. Cooking and baking can be a relaxing activity to them, especially if they do it for their family or their guests. Have 'grandma's hobbies'... knitting/crocheting for example lol. Enjoy so much making photo albums, and even more looking at them from time to time. Love going to the sea, early mornings walking barefoot on the sand and admiring the immense ocean and the sun rising, they're fans of little details and very romantic/sweet scenarios. They enjoy being helpful to others, so they'll probably ask people if they can do something for them (especially if they see people struggling doing something, they'll gladly volounteer to offer their help).

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Leo / 5-17-29 degrees: Stars wannabe. Intensely crying in front of the mirror portraying a desperate girl that has been cheated on, then recompose themselves and admire how good they just were pffft. Put on glasses even at home to feel extra, hit the door while walking cause they can't see a thing, get on the floor purposely, decides to play the blind character, gets up, * sudden dramatic enhancement of the other senses*. Dancing with the starssss. No seriosuly, they should apply, but as the professional dancer cause they so good! (and well they're not stars.... yet 👀). Like the other 2 fire venuses they enjoy moving their body so workouts are very appreciated, but leos especially loove hiit workouts, go build that cooore. Lovers of loong passionate and romantic dramas, they wanna feel all the emotions and they stay loyal to a specific series so they wish it could go on forevahh (hello..."Beautiful" lmao). ✨ Randomly transform their home in a runway show. Start walking like a model to feel themselves ✨ List all the things they can do and skills they acquired to feel good about themselves, then they list all the things they wanna work towards to use that self esteem boost to enhance their motivation and work towards their future goals.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Virgo / 6-18 degrees : Killing the chilling. No seriosuly, these people seem like they can't 100% chill properly, and some of them may take 'something' to feel completely detached and lost from reality for a bit... 👀 They chill by making plans. Always trying to find things to do and learn to always get better. Working on themselves is their favourite project. Scanning the room in bed instead of chilling, seeing if there's something they need to adjust or clean. Overthinking the heck out of their lives...wait weren't you supposed to chill? Nevermind 🙈. Roasting others...in their minds hehe, they won't let others see how much they enjoy analizing their mistakes. 'Lemme give you advice on this thing' , others: uhm... ok but chilllll. And you ask Virgo venuses whyy they continue to give advices even when people don't listen to them. Well... saying 'I told you' is more satifying than hearing 'i don't care' 😘 (underlying validation issues). Well...i mean, they could chill while crafting, i give you this, it's probably the only time where they get near the definition of chilling...but hey hold on, cause soon enough they gonna find out details about how they're not perfect at what they do so kill the chill again and let the procrastination beginnn (wait... is procrastination's Virgo's way of chilling?)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Libra / 7-19 degrees: They wanna experience the finest things in life. They go to that fancy restaurant, get that fancy dress, buy those fancy flowers... they wanna feel cuddled by life and specifically... lifestyle. They need to feel they value by surroundings themselves with valuable things. That's why they chill by going shopping or talking to new people, because where they see value in, they get value from. It's all about feeling good about themselves. Have a sweet tooth (but enjoy eating overall, it's like they enjoy the experience of taste, they're not really picky ultimately). Can splurge on personal care, lots of tools for facials or expensive skincare (cause after eating sugar they need to mantain the perfect skin lol). They work a lot on the mantainance of the self. That's why they have a good eye for fashion and aesthetics, because they have been researching and analizing everything that's out there to understand what's better for them, but they still haven't found out their true style due to their indecisive nature 😂. Plus let's admit it, they like to change often and renew themselves to maintain that 'interesting persona' 👀

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Scorpio / 8-20 degrees : Drowning their nose in personality tests. Seriously, when these people wanna chill, all they got on their mind is how to understand that mind even more. They're detectives of their own psyche. Lovers of shadow work. Let all those intense questions unfold! Obsessive researchers. They find a topic they like, they delve deep into it until they've found enough to feel satisfied and jump on another theme to obsess themselves over. Probably watching a lot of documentaries on criminals and unresolved cases trying to find the final answer themselves. Masters at playing Cluedo. Read everybodies's minds in every single setting, it makes them relaxed by feeling in control of the room's energies, and yeah... even during lunch between family members lmao. Need plenty of alone time. They're secretly training to become wizards/witches 👀. Probably like to sip pomegranate juice or any other juicy and thick flavoured drink. Sometimes they forget to even eat because of how invested theyre in their researches lol. I know you're already attractive as hell, but y'all take care of your bodyyy

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Sagittarius / 9-21 degrees : The boy/girl scout. Those people HAVE to move, they can't stay still or they'll start to stress out. They love a good trip somewhere new, visiting places abroad, taking that bus/train and not knowing where it'll take them (they get lost easily lmfao but they don't mind it, it's part of the thrilling experience). Documentaries lovers: can't go out? Let them wander with their minds. Like to change activities often as they get bored quickly. Enjoy trying to eat different types of food from different cultures. They like to go shopping a lot, to have little souvenirs of all the places they've been to (can tend to overspend depending on other placements in the chart). The one who find excitement in daring to do what everyone else don't want to do. Can love to pertake in volounteering activities, especially if they require them to sail to another country, they enjoy being helpful to other people in need (if underdeveloped can have hero complex). Probably enjoy playing on the Wii in competitive games, they're always up for a competition, even for the slightest thing, like "who can finish up this bottle of water first?? Ready? Start!" (they can announce little challenges like this veeery randomly and everyone will follow their lead, it's crazy haha)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Capricorn / 10-22 degrees : Counting their money. Sorting their bills. Sooo relaxing right, especially when the money in your bank account keep groowingg 👀 (they probably watch cash envelope stuffing videos + budgeting on YT). Relax by doing the same routine every day, they can do it without even thinking, and that to them is relieving. They enjoy the adulting process, so actually...going to work can feel like chilling to them lol, they like to feel a sense of responsibility, it makes them feel motivated to always grow, and having a sense of order and stability, that's what makes them feel relaxed and safe. Constantly reading self-help books. Probably sipping their wine while chilling or an expensive drink or a concentrated drink (blueberry juice peraphs). They like high quality items, so they usually shop designer clothes/accessories, they love those labels lol. They love the sofa, don't ask me why lol, most people love the bed, capricorn venuses love the sofa, periodt (can it be because the space is restricted and Cap being ruled by Saturn, planet of restrictions... well, could be).

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Aquarius / 11-23 degrees : The videogamer. Have way too many hobbies that have nothing in common. Wanna splurge on those headphones too? You already have the bunny ears ones, the cat ears ones, the led ones, guyzzz you have a whole collection of them lmao. Are probably into reading about the unknown mysteries of the universe. Conspiracy theories lovers (they just love when they can confuse others people's minds with all their absurdities). The ones who find excitement in daring to do what everyone else don't want to do. Collectors of technology stuff, yup, they still have the gameboyy 🥺. Unpredictable af but they enjoy being this way so people can always question them and think of them as interesting. Introverted people that need to recharge by being alone. Probably Webtoons and manga lovers. Enjoy pertaking in protest marches, feeling part of the crowd (sense of belonging) and feeling they can contribute to a greater cause. They feel the need to do something crazy once in a while, so if you see them bunjee jumping randomly, or trying others 'dangerous' activities don't be surprised (pls, be careful, and don't try anything illegal....understood?👀...pfft, i already know you're gonna roll your eyes, and think, here we go, another sheep that is trying to tell me what to do lol)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Pisces / 12-24 degrees : Do you think thinking about "what ifs" is relaxing?? Y'allll pleaseee, i know the feeling is good when you imagine your perfect reality...but...you literally take it as a hobby and do it way too much...to your own detriment 😭. They looove watching romance movies and dramas, it's their bread and butter (to give food to those daydreams right?🙃). Play music ALL day and get lost in their world, and then suddenly it's time to go to bed and they realize they lost another day to daydreaming, now they got to the nightdreaming phase of the day lol 😂😭. Loves taking baths, the contact with water feels truly healing to them, they could stay in the water 24/7. Can be extremely good at painting or drawing, or singing (and other artistic activities too), and relax by doing these activities. Just asking, but are y'all ok with the low blood pressure?😢(also curious, do you tend to have low blood pressure?). Can relax but lose themselves watching the phone,especially social medias. Until they realize they're literally watching and living an illusion, they think they live by watching everyone else's lives and connect with them through the screen, but they're not living their own life by going out there, and experiencing the world as main characters, not just extras of their own lives.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

Congrats! You've reached the end! ✨

Hope you enjoyed this post, always rememer that we are not just one placement, so if you didn't resonate, that's ok, i'd love to know your feedback in both cases (if you did or did not resonate), it is always very appreciated 🥰

Wish you a wonderful day! 🍷 Yours, Linnie 🌸

#astro notes #venus in the signs #astro observations #venus notes #astrology observations #planet venus #astro community

[planetdream]

I just stumbled across your skz & dildo training post and I think it turned my brain to MUSH and like hhhhhh;;; now I’m imagining what they would be like with throat training, especially the meanies like seungmin?? Teasing you as you turn into you a teary, drooling mess? Or fucking your cunt while making you take it? Goodbye

[mentioned post] oooo okok was gonna structure this like the prev post but the thoughts took over

chan...oh my god... he likes to make you watch while you're taking the dildo into your mouth. likes to sit you all pretty like in front of a mirror while he sits behind you, slowly guiding the dildo into your mouth. likes to hear the way you gag and to see how your tears fall when it reaches further than you've had it before—will praise you for the way you gag and how pretty you are when you shed a tear, amongst other things, of course. still likes taking his time with you but sometimes he wants to make you take it. (likes to place his free hand around your neck, if he's not playing with your clit, feeling how deep the dildo is in your throat)

as mentioned, minho likes pushing you close to your limits—and throat training does not change that. however, minho really assumes the role of a teacher. he's comforting, guides you well, and makes sure it's an enjoyable for you most importantly. he makes sure you're not feeling discomforted, that you're breathing properly, etc. he's still stern but not quite mean because he wants to take things slowly. it's not until days later, when you're a bit more confident with what he's taught you, that he slips into mean dom mode; forgoing the dildo and using his cock instead.

fucking you while making you take it? that has changbin written all over it. likes having you damn near in mating press, just needs to be face to face, chest to chest [bc he loves u n he's horny </3] tries not to be too rough with you so he opts to go slow; alternating the timing between his thrusts into you and working the dildo into your mouth. makes you cockwarm the dildo in your mouth while he's fucking you, hand over your mouth, delivering quick and deep thrusts because feeling you clench every time you gagged was driving him crazy.

with hyunjin, i think he's sweet. a little impatient and would rather have his actual dick in your mouth, but using the dildo means he can whisper sweet things and kiss on you, so he'll take it. he doesn't want you to choke too much but he loves seeing you all cute n messy for him—so he'll help in anyway he can to get rid of your gag reflex. the more you can take down your throat the more proud hyunjin is. is in love with kissing you after you've taken cock in your mouth <3

jisung walks in on you with your mouth around a cute pink dildo and he's stunned. kinda just stands there in shock for a bit. then he's suddenly bold for two seconds to ask if he can help before resorting back to being all shy (and slightly panicked). doesn't expect you to say yes nor does he expect you to say you wanted to try sucking him off (despite the fact that you've had sex with each other many time before). once he's calmed down, he'll take the dildo and help inch it into your mouth. practically drooling when he sees the look in your eye.

felix loves giving you little kisses against your throat while he's training your throat. is just...so enamored by the way you look, and the fact that you're doing this for him <3 gives the best praises and care, really preps you for when it's his cock. might start by thrusting his fingers in your mouth before you even get to taste the plastic of the dildo. if you want him to guide the dildo into your mouth and do all the work while your just take it? it's more than his pleasure to do so. he likes to wear the dildo on a strap or use the suction part on a wall and guide your head up and down.

now seungmin really wants to know how deep you can take it, and if you can take it deeper. regardless, he's going to help you. similar to minho, seungmin takes on the role of a teacher—but he's strict, condescending. wants to see how much of a mess he can make of you. will you cry? gag and choke around the dildo until you drool? and will you keep coming back and begging him to give you more? will put his fingers in your mouth with the dildo to see how wide he's fucking you open. probably chooses a size assortment of dildos to use on you.

jeongin is a menace. he's on a power high; wants to tease you and make you work for it. his heart races ever time he tells you to do something and you follow his orders—do you really want to learn how to take his cock in your mouth, or are you just a slut? he makes you stick your tongue out, slapping the tip of the dildo on your tongue. he has to make it extra messy and wet, so if you're not producing saliva quick enough for him, he'll def help you out yk.

#[💌] ˚｡⋆ #✰˚. !! dream.hardhours #☁️ — daydream.skz #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #minho smut #changbin smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #lee felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut

[hillbillyoracle]

Fuck Goals, Fuck Vision Boards

Task Management for Planning Averse

AKA Even People with Zero Direction in Life Deserve Nice Things

So if you don’t already follow Dana K. White on YouTube, you should. She’s the author of the blog A Slob Comes Clean and several books. What I’m going to talk about below is heavily inspired by her work which is why I wanted to cite her upfront but also seriously go check her videos out if you’re trying to declutter and get organized. 

Right now I’m mostly using her videos and it’s genuinely the only decluttering method that has ever worked for me. And one of the reasons it works for me where others haven’t is that it is a system that doesn’t rely on feelings or valuation. 

I realized that as I’ve gotten better at task management in my life - though lord knows the move has made that more complicated - I realized that not using feelings or judgement based questions is what really helped me. I also realized that I had 100% completely given up on goals. I had neglected to set goals for a couple years now and weirdly I got more productive, not less. What gives? 

Step 0: Give Up on Goals and the Fantasy Self

What I realized is that goals were really just a product of what a lot of decluttering folks call my “fantasy self”. My fantasy self woke up at 5am and did little work out videos but trying to leap to become that fantasy self fucking sucked. It was not enjoyable once the novelty wore off and it largely didn’t present enough benefit to justify doing it. 

Which meant I would stop and then I would feel bad about myself and I’d pick up bad habits to cope with the feeling and then I was worse off than before. 

So when I stopped setting goals, I stopped declining at least because there wasn’t that rebound effect where I self soothed using way too much ice cream and binge watching whatever I could find. I hit a baseline that wasn’t amazing but the stability was helpful. Only when I gave up on the fantasy life did my actual life get better.

Capitalism loves the fantasy self. People spend so much money to try to become their fantasy self and often don’t even benefit that much from it. Then the guilt of seeing that stuff around can lead folks to by more stuff to cope with the guilt. The only people winning are the companies who you buy from. 

Also, folks with executive dysfunction have a very hard time picturing what done looks like. So trying to picture your “ideal day” is low key a nightmare experience for someone like me. Mission Statements can be real intimidating when you’re not totally sure what those words will mean for the decisions you make. Vision boards...I’m sorry I know some folks love them but I really do not enjoy them. They’re a sensory overload of an experience to me from the crafting to taking them in. I’ve never made a vision board that really did much for me. 

I’ve also recently learned about The Four Tendencies by Gretchen Rubin and I am definitely a Rebel. So too much pressure internal or external and I will find the quickest exit possible. Rebels are a small but sizeable portion of folks according to the authors research. Which means there are likely other people out there who also find goals to be way too much fucking pressure. 

This is all to say - fuck goals. But you’ve still got a life to live so how do you move the needle in the positive direction? 

Step 1: Initial Brain Dump

People would always tell me to brain dump but never really explained how. They were like “Yeah just get all this stuff in your head out on paper” and I’m like...I don’t even know what’s in my head unless I go looking for it. 

So I offer you two questions and two methods of gathering answers. 

When trying to brain dump, ask yourself: 

What do I spend a lot of time thinking about? 

What are the specific tasks associated with these subjects? 

If you can’t think of next specific tasks associated with those subjects, it does necessarily mean you need to strike it off you list, it’ll just be a little tougher to know where it fits. 

Sometimes I’m able to sit down and answer these questions all in one go. And sometimes it’s much easier to keep a running list in my phone and when I realize I’ve been thinking a lot about something I add it to the list. Then later I can sit down and come up with specific tasks or process it in step 2. 

Step 2: Task Punnett 

In step 2 I look at my list and ask myself two questions:

Do I already spend time doing this? 

Will I face a negative result if I don’t do this? 

This gives four categories a list item can be sorted into. 

Yes/Yes

The goal here is to prevent burnout so you don’t stop spending time doing these. Common ones are cooking, cleaning, or seeing friends. So it’s important to look at each of these and make sure they’re as easy and enjoyable as possible. 

It also helps to know what your minimum is for each so that if you’re burning out you can scale back to your minimum effective dose is that allows you to avoid the material harm but give you a break - like getting take out or having freezer meals on hand, knowing what the most important cleaning tasks are and only doing those, and at least sending texts or voice memos to friends to connect.

Yes/No

The goal here is to protect this time as much as possible. It’s what tends to go when Yes/Yes and No/Yes tasks start to get out of hand. That will look different for different people but it almost always involves capping Yes/Yes and No/Yes time and not allowing yourself to go over. As you might have guess most hobbies go here. 

Some people will need other people to help encourage them to keep doing it. Some people will need flexibility so it feels like they’re truly choosing it. Some people will need to refresh their memory that these kinds of activities are just as necessary as other types of tasks. 

Guilt and shame is a big one that keeps people from having many things going in this box but it can also be a lack of self knowledge too. We’re not exactly encouraged to explore what we truly deeply love. Mental illness can also make this box tricky as anhedonia can make everything feel bleh. 

In all of these cases, I really suggest making some sort of reflective practice something you try to keep in this box so you can notice what triggers guilt, what sparks joy, and what just isn’t working after a while. Doesn’t have to be journaling in the traditional sense. I used to turn on my computer cam and just talk but now that I need more audio privacy, this has been really helping me.  

No/Yes

I fucking hate this box in all honesty. It’s the one that drains me and makes me feel like shit to look at this list but also I feel the most badass when I actually complete something off of it. 

The goal with this box is to figure out what’s blocking you from this being a Yes/Yes. Basically finish the sentence “I don’t really want to do this because...” and you’re on your way. Most barriers can be dealt with. I used to not believe this but I promise it’s true. 

This is where having a therapist, good friend, or community where you can bounce ideas off of can really make all the difference. A reflection practice can also really help get a different perspective too.  Sometimes the barriers loom so large in our mind that adaptation seems ridiculous or impossible. Take advantage of different perspectives. 

Automation, delegation, and congregation (body double or a group) are incredibly useful tools here. Don’t do more here than you need to. 

What’s key in the second question for this section is that this is something you have the power to impact the outcome of. If you don’t have the power to change the outcome or you’ve done all you can, then the task is bracing, mitigating, and accepting, not dealing with the topic/task head on. 

No/No

There are 2 main things I find in this category - shit I agreed to because I felt obligated and someday maybe projects. For shit I agreed to, the only remedy is to just get out of it, to bail in the most graceful way possible. I also try to prevent stuff from winding up here to begin with (no more event planning for me for a while). 

For someday maybe projects, I like to keep a space - usually Notion - where I can collect my thoughts on it, projects, and pain a picture of what it would take to make it a Yes/No task someday in the future - always keeping in mind what I could do with the materials and time I have available right now. I’ve picked a quite a few of my No/No tasks this way and made them things I do regularly because I left myself those breadcrumbs for later. 

Step 3: Prioritizing without Feelings

So now you have your tasks organized into these buckets and know what to keep in mind with each. So...what do you do with them? 

A lot of people will tell you to prioritize and do the hardest first while your willpower is strong but I say fuck that my willpower is never strong so we’re going to do easiest first to build up some confidence. 

No/No - For obligations that no longer serve me, I bail. For someday maybe projects, I write up some quick notes in my little system in Notion.

Yes/No - gather and prep materials, block out time, ask someone to do it with you or find a group if needed

Yes/Yes - gather and prep materials, if burning out, switch to minimum viable

No/Yes - figure out the barriers, automate, delegate, congregate, list next steps

Stuck Tasks - Too much to go into here but this video is helpful.

Sometimes I bounce around a bit - dealing with a Yes/Yes task will suddenly give me the guts to deal with a stuck task, getting out of a No/No obligation will make a No/Yes task look easier. So I don’t limit myself to this. But when I’m having trouble I go back to the list and just trust. 

If I have avoided doing a No/Yes task for anywhere from several days to several weeks - it’s official a stuck task and I bounce it there while I work through other No/Yes tasks to deal with later. 

Sometimes time pressures will dictate that things need to be handled before others - that’s fine. But usually a crunch will either show you that you will not in fact face a negative consequence after all or give you a motivation boost to carry you through some of the difficult tasks. 

Step 4: Doing it again

So when do you do it again? 

I do my brain dumps on Sundays and sort them into area of life lists so I can work on them by theme or focus but honestly whenever. When I was really in the throws of some bad mood shit I’d only do it every few weeks or so. Any amount of doing this generally had lead to a better life though. 

What about stuff I’m not thinking a lot about? 

That usually means either you’ve got such a good system for it that it’s running on autopilot so why mess with success, the possible reward is not appealing enough, or the possible consequences don’t freak you out enough. 

This isn’t really a system I use for creating like...a good life by a neurotypical standard. It’s what I use to manage the stress, concern, and daydreams I’m having right now, to get things off of my plate and grow my confidence. 

So will this mean everything gets managed? No. But it does mean the stuff most likely to keep you up at night does. Which is a huge fucking boon. 

Conclusion

There’s some more intricacies in this too like moving No/No projects to Yes/No and No/Yes projects to Yes/Yes - it’s not the same strategies in my experience - but this is already running long. 

Hope this helps someone else out too! 

#studyblr #adhd #autism #planning #fuck goals

[isa-ghost]

Uhhhhh maybe qphil building/terraforming things? Idk man I like boosh boosh and that's all I can think of rn lol

Ooh that's a tough one at first glance. Lemme *thinks so hard brain starts smoking*

qPhil headcanons masterlist

See, at least in the past, he wasn't so much building as he was restoring. Those weren't his builds, they were the builds of the gods. He simply fixed and added to them.

On QI however, he builds obv. He does it mostly for the enjoyment of others. Chayanne, Tallulah, Missa, maybe others. He tries not to build a lot bc he doesn't want to give The Federation more of his time or effort than necessary, but those closest to him are desperate to convince him to make smth cool bc they know he's capable of it. He just doesn't wanna put his whole crowussy into a build for the Feds

He tries to think of terraforming as a painting. Blend the colors, highlights, pops of other colors for accents, make sure to keep things random and natural looking, just follow what your heart is saying. And as always, step back from the canvas to see your work at a distance.

His favorite thing to do is greenery and stone. It just comes to him the most naturally, no pun intended. Rose is of course very thrilled by this.

The boosh boosh is vocal stimming. Makes the process of collecting or placing down resources less monotonous. And the crows like it so *shrug* He boosh. At this point he doesn't even realize when he's doing it half the time.

Nothing annoys him more than building at night. Fuck off mobs he's trying to make a masterpiece here >:/

He's much easier to jumpscare while he's focused on building btw, esp terraforming (Fit & Etoiles take advantage of this often)

He prefers teaching the kids and giving them tips so they can enjoy building themselves. He does get that itch to build though, it's why he helps out with a lot of it.

Btw he can't figure out why he has that innate itch to build ;) (wiped memory go brrrr)

He's joked that if he ever actually builds smth on the island it'll be a massive dirt middle finger aimed at the nearest Fed building.

Sometimes the murder helps him with stuff :D They bring him stacks of blocks, snacks to make him take a break (it only works if they offer avocado toast), fresh tools if he doesn't have Mending, etc. They like being handy little guys trying to get a good grade in crow

When he's super invested in building, he'll pop in headphones and then Nothing can stop him. He jam, he boosh, he make big cool thing.

He used to hate interiors but building stuff for and with the kids has kinda changed that. He still thinks he's mostly shit at it but he's not bad.

He wants to learn how to build like Chayanne so badly. Chayanne can make these amazing cozy little spots that Phil for the life of him can't create quite the same way. He can terraform like a motherfucker but there's something about the way Chayanne can make such a cute place that Phil just can't get the hang of. (He is very proud of his boy)

And Tallulah. God, he loves her visions. The way she too is incredibly talented with greenery and flowers. She can make the most breathtaking gardens. He loves helping her bring her ideas to life, and using his macro-scale build skills to make them larger than life.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #q!philza #qphil headcanons

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Gotta say your au mixed with the art style and such and amazing work in what we seen so far with the horror and some laughs it's just become a treat every time I saw new details (whenever you supplies them up, thanks for that)

I know you already disclosure that it's gonna be bad BAD TIMES for the puppets gang but does it have it's soft ad fluff times??

The shot were Frank ask Wally if they're dying will looking up for the ceiling hasn't leave my brain, such a raw emotional clear on them, I wonder when they were just the two of them for a while they cuddle or hold hands for comfort??

I just.i just want them to have small victories of comfort

of course it has fluff and comfort! a lot of it! having a nice blend of both makes the fluff feel sweeter & the hurt hit all the harder <3 i will now supply some (written (for now)) examples and tidbits. putting it under the cut cause it got kinda Long

Frank & Wally do become very affectionate with each other! ofc as soon as Frank woke Wally was like "ok im holding your hand everywhere we go, this is Non Negotiable". because its dark! he doesn't want Frank to stray too far or get lost! and it's easier to yank Frank outta harm's way if they're already holding hands. comfort factors into it later, when Frank starts initiating & Wally does it purely to make sure Frank is still there. but yeah they get Very comfortable with each other, to the point where when Eddie wakes up he asks Frank - misinterpreting the situation entirely - "if you'd rather have Wally than me, i understand." ofc Frank laughs his ass off bc uhhh no that is Not what their relationship is, Ed

~ similarly, (almost) everyone acclimates to Wally's need to be as close as possible at all feasible times. he's Very physically affectionate and has little to no regard for personal space or boundaries anymore. like, he'll listen when someone asks him to back off or somethn, but until then he does not give a fuck. and this rubs off on the others as they get used to it

and then there's OH WAIT IDK IF I'VE MENTIONED THIS YET but! Wally - during his main exploration phase - found the Welcome Home episode recordings! and he eventually figured out how to work a tv he found, so he added "watch an episode of me and my friends" into his Routine. when the others wake up, he includes them in this. is it horrifying for them at first? yeah. but they get used to it and find similar if not the same comfort and enjoyment in it that Wally does. like in This Scribble, Frank & Wally & Poppy & Howdy are all watching an episode, and are quoting the lines they've memorized. they all cuddle up on a couch together and watch their favorite show <3

& Wally also teaches them (as they wake up) how to repair and care for themselves / each other, sleeping or otherwise. picture a little sewing circle of Frank, Wally, and Poppy, with Poppy giving tips and guidance on how to improve. these sessions provide them with genuine smiles and sometimes even some laughs.

before Wally & Home's divorce, they'd pass much of the time with games! go-fish, charades, i spy, etc. one of their favorites was when Wally would toss a ball at Home's door, and Home would hit it back. additionally, whenever Wally discovered something new, he'd rush back to Home with it - either the information or the actual thing, if he could carry it. ex: when he'd find books or files, he'd bring them to Home and (quietly) read them aloud while resting against them

and just in general know that the Post Office is a place of safety. Wally has made sure it's secure. i like to imagine like... little craft sessions and impromptu dancing lessons and story sharing going on in there among the awake neighbors. they try to have fun despite it all

that's all i can recall for Act One's fluff tidbits rn, but trust me there is More. and also abundant angsty comfort. the downright painful stuff has to earn its existence yk yk this au is Not grimdark

#oh there's also a really specific scene in my mind of like. #poppy taking notice that wally has developed a disregard for his appearance & that he doesn't seem to think he's attractive anymore #and recruits frank & howdy to give him like... a lil spa day as best they can #they tie (most of) his hair up in a ponytail and scrub some of the dirt out & they make a little patchwork sweater for him #and poppy tells him he looks very pretty #and wally has a moment of '...? im pretty? im still...? oh...!' #they notice him putting a teensy bit of attention towards his appearance going forward from this #oh also he makes sure they All get a little 'spa day' #good feelings all around.... #rambles from the bog #wh lights out au #they all pick up little Habits towards each other #like wally will hold others' hands and just fiddle with em w/o a real point or goal #frank will adjust his friends' clothes hair if it's a lil Too out of place #poppy will hold her wings around/behind others w/o really realizing it #howdy will pick up / carry the smaller neighbors for no particular reason #eddie tends to keep a hand on the nearest person #etc etc! #there was. Something Else i wanted to add. i don't remember what it was! #but yeah! there are good things. there are Always good things.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I’m curious writing gives me stress even if I enjoy it, but I became an author to enjoy things for me to read. But I don’t enjoy it with the fresh eyes of a reader. I’m curious do authors enjoy reading what they write the same way a reader does?

Writing, Stress, and Enjoying Our Own Writing

I know your question is really about the second thing, but since you mentioned that writing gives you stress, I want to address that, too.

Why is Writing Stressful?

It's not unusual for writers to feel stressed by writing, but it's always worth looking into the individual "why" to see if it's something you can address. If you're writing to meet a deadline, for example, that's going to be a little bit stressful. If you're writing something complex or emotionally taxing, that's probably going to be a bit stressful, too. In those cases, there may not be a lot you can do to totally eliminate the stress (deadlines are deadlines, and complex/taxing stuff is what it is), but you can do things to mitigate the stress--like relaxation techniques, proper time management, and exercising good self-care. But what about the times when you're not up against a deadline, or what you're writing isn't particularly taxing? Why would writing be stressful then? Sometimes it's because of the pressure we put on ourselves to write... arbitrary deadlines, unrealistic word counts, unreasonable expectations given available writing time... and the thing is, when we mentally beat ourselves up for failing to meet arbitrary deadlines, unrealistic word counts, and unreasonable expectations, we're training our brain to see writing as a stressful activity. And our brains are hard-wired to want to avoid things that feel stressful, which is why--if writing feels stressful--we end up stuck in some way. So, it's really, REALLY important to do what you can to de-stress writing for yourself. Use arbitrary guidelines as motivation, but be gentle with yourself if you blow past them. Use time blocking or other time management methods to determine how much writing time you actually have available in a given day, week, or month, and set word count goals accordingly--but give yourself grace if you fall short on a particular day or during a particular week. Use word sprints during free time to try to catch up. Also: practice good self-care and do things before and during your writing sessions to make them more peaceful--take a walk, do yoga, meditate, put on soft music, drink some lemon water, etc.

Do Writers Enjoy Reading Their Work the Same Way Readers Do?

Part of what readers enjoy about stories are the surprises held by the characters, world, and plot. We love seeing how characters grow and change, or do things that surprise us. We love learning things about these new settings and worlds. And we love turning the pages to find out answers to our burning questions. But as writers, there are no surprises and unanswered questions. So, in that way, our experience when reading our own work is fundamentally different than that of a reader who is reading it for the first time.

But, as readers we also love to reread the stories we love. Sometimes we can glean new information from a reread, but often we just love to revisit the characters, world, and story. Even if there are no surprises because we already know everything that's going to happen, there's still something enjoyable--and sometimes even comforting--about returning to familiar stories. So, on that level, writers can enjoy their own writing in a similar way to their readers, especially when revisiting a story months or years after we wrote it.

Having said that, there are some writers who do not enjoy reading their own writing, ever. Sort of like there are some actors who can't watch movies or TV shows they were in. For some of us, once that creative work is finished, we put it behind us and don't want or need to experience it again, and that's okay, too. Everyone is different.

So, if you enjoy reading the stories you wrote, that's great, and you can feel free to embrace that! If you don't enjoy reading the stories you wrote, that's okay, too. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

[skullchicken]

I'll see if I can formulate something that's been on my mind for a while. It stems mostly from advice I've given to art students but I feel it can potentially be applied to many other things.

I feel like many people picture achieving success like this:

... but can you see what's wrong with this picture?

Success in any endeavor isn't guaranteed. And even if you are successful, it's not guaranteed it will make you happy.

But even if we assume that this chart is in fact correct...

That's still a long-ass time you're spending being unhappy.

What I told my art students is: try to find a way to make the process of learning and trying and failing enjoyable.

Sometimes you'll need to find a new perspective or do some soul-searching to achieve that, e.g.:

is it really true that you have to punish yourself to deserve enjoyment?

can you find something humorous or funny about your failures? can you make them more lighthearted for yourself?

can you exchange your expectations for curiosity?

is there a way you can make the process fun for you?

To give a non-art example: my family has an oven heated with wood. Every year we had to saw the wood into big chunks, then smaller chunks, then we had to carry them inside, several square meters of it. I used to hate it. Unspeakable stuff gets into your nose. It's itchy. There's insects in the wood. But I think I especially hated it because I was following my older sibling's example, who hated it much more, and loudly.

Then one day I realized it's only like two hours of work, really. And I can talk to my family and make jokes while we do it. And if I put on my mp3 player that means I can move my body to music, which I enjoy deeply. I can even daydream on the side! Suddenly: fun!

Or to give another example: at university I used to hate learning for exams. Until I realized what I actually hated was cramming for exams, it was staying up late and subsisting on energy drinks instead of sleep while the clock kept ticking. But as long as I started two weeks earlier instead of one week earlier, or, even better, just turned the lecture's powerpoint slides into flashcards (which I enjoyed doing because it's a bit of a no-brainer activity I can do on the side) I could just put them on my smartphone and learn them casually on long train rides. And because of the flashcard program, I could see my progress, too. Suddenly: fun!

That's just me and my specific brain, though! Also sometimes things just suck and there's nothing you can do except clench your teeth and get through it, I recognize that.

But if you want to have success to be happy and that's your goal, then having fun while learning means you've already won.

#studyblr #studying #study motivation #motivation #life advice #I mean I guess #I dunno #art advice

[yellowhollyhock]

raph vs a volcano day 20

The 1987 episode plot:

Donatello's health scanner predicts Raphael has only 24 hours to live. Raphael goes around doing good deeds and taking ridiculous risks because he's gonna die anyway. Meanwhile Donatello figures out his machine didn't work right and means to tell Raphael, but you see he is distracted doing good deeds and taking ridiculous risks. It culminates with Raph inside an active volcano (trying to stop it from erupting? bro??) and his brothers have to come rescue him.

I love this episode. For so many reasons.

1) What an interesting way to give Raph his role while keeping him in character within the new role they gave him for this show. Because Mirage Raph is the guy who always wants to help without pausing to think about whether they can. He's known for sometimes being impulsive and always being protective. And not just of his fellow turtles! He sees someone in trouble he wants to help. But usually in Mirage that's expressed with violence. So for the show they made the "crazy one" express the same traits through sarcasm instead and he became the witty one, and I love how future Raphs are both. And I especially love when 1987 Raphael himself is both

2) This is such a classic plot. It's like... the tribbles spoof/tribute or 'character gets kidnapped but acts so annoying they get released.' You know the kinds of plots I mean right? Our style of storytelling has changed (it's always changing) but tv shows in late 80s early 90s especially had these. You could pretty much guess the plot from the title because you know the characters and you know the story. The exciting reveal is mostly the jokes. There are words for what I'm saying but I haven't had an english class in a few years, so take this ramble and trust me. It's a beautiful example of whatever this is. And!

---2a, It doesn't have the classic resolution that 'character thought they had one day to live due to a misunderstanding' would have on a kids show. There isn't a 'moral' about seizing the moment and using your time wisely. There also isn't a moral about communication, so instead of the miscommunication being annoying like it would in a preachy episode, it's gloriously hilarious to watch

3) Speaking of that, the obligatory 'he tried to ask' scene is Raphael watching Michelangelo cry on Donatello's shoulder because "I'll miss him so much" "I'm sorry there's nothing I can do for him" it's the oven. The oven is broken. Michelangelo is sobbing in Donatello's arms like his world is ending because they're going to have to get a new oven because this one's beyond fixing. And Raphael fully believes that Michelangelo is begging Donatello to fix him, when this version of Donatello is so very none medic. Like I don't even know how to describe why and how much I love this scene. I think I killed english

4) The scene of Raphael in the volcano. I just. He's so funny. This episode really captures what I love about the whole show, which is that I am absolutely buying into it and feeling deeply about it, and simultaneously enjoying it ironically. Does that make sense? When you can put your whole heart into unironic enjoyment but your brain at the same time gets it's 'make fun of this' treat. So both types of fun at once.

---4a it's not trying to fix the plot holes it's enjoying that in this format you don't have to. I feel like this is severely under utilized in modern cinema. make things not make sense on purpose for fun. don't explain about where they are, how they carried that object with them, why there were not other consequences for certain actions. The fun thing about stories is they don't have to be realistic unless you want them to

so for today I had intended to write a Rise version of this episode. I think it would work well for them. Plus, Raph and Donnie bonding. However. That is going in drafts and will be coming. later (march for raph is my opportunity to collect drafts for the rise turtles apparently.) I'm actually still debating if Donnie would make a health-o-meter or if something goes down in witch down, but either way, ❤️💜

#tmnt #tmnt 1987 #rottmnt #march for raph

[yanderend]

Male Yandere Demigod x Gender Neutral Reader

Nitai, The Deity ; First Encounter

Requested by an anon

It had been exactly a year since The Deity had started his whole 'I'm just a normal man' schtick, and he was already getting irritated.

He found it completely unfair that people were expected to show up for things on time— it should be accepted that he can take a week-long nap to recover from the last irritating human he had to deal with by conventional means, that stuff's exhausting!

Even with all the downsides, Nitai was enjoying his new friendships, and being treated equally within said friendships!

Sure, it was hard to hold back his impulses of using his powers around them, but it was worth it to get the authentic human experience!

There's one thing about his friends that he never related to, though; Their obsession with finding romantic partners. Nitai had felt romantic love before, but he'd never been desperate for it— it's never been a necessity.

That being said, when his companions set themselves up for blind dates, he can't help but be curious— Humans never cease to find new ways to make things more entertaining than they are, huh?

Before The Deity knows it, it's date night!

He puts on his coziest outfit and mentally prepares— he knows he already looks cute in a sweater, so he doesn't care too much about visual performance. It's just a gamble, meeting someone new, they could be boring! How awful would that be...

The Deity arrives at the venue and greets you with a smile.

The combined nature of his less-modern way of speaking and near unnaturally large stature already sets off questions in your brain.

On his end, he's quietly looking you over and evaluating all the little details. Your outfit is comfortable, and suits you well, the way your face emotes isn't too overwhelming for him, and your aura is surprisingly pleasing. He shouldn't be getting ahead of himself, though.

'Have you been on a blind date before, Nitai?' You ask at about the third question into your back-and-forth.

The Deity hums, thinking. 'No, not really. It is rather a new invention, isn't it?'

'I suppose?' You question yourself. 'I guess what I'm really asking is if you were anxious, coming to meet me?'

Nitai is caught off guard— he doesn't show it on his face, but he pauses for a little longer than usual.

'Oh, anxious? In a way... I was worried about getting bored.'

'That makes sense. You never know what kind of a person you'd meet, doing this, right?'

In the middle of this seemingly mundane conversation, you throw a genuine smile at him, and he's momentarily stunned.

He takes a sip of water, quickly averting his eyes from you. He feels heat rising to his face— What's gotten into him now?

It seems like every minute he spends with you the atmosphere changes, little by little. It feels familiar...

Nitai tries his best to ignore it, and the night goes on. He's just a little more interested in what you have to tell him than he'd expected.

The sound of your voice tickles him, he finds it cute; 'Like a rabbit,' he says.

You laugh at that, and he thinks to himself that your laugh is rather cute as well. It's almost a shame he can't be the only one to hear it.

Then it hits him: The familiar feeling, its power! Could you have some hidden ability, be some other deity's descendant? It has to be something... Maybe you're just a mortal that's actually worthy of him, who knows?

Eventually, the evening draws to a close, and you say your goodbyes.

'It was enjoyable dining with you, mor- uh... my dear?' The Deity cringes at his slip-up, avoiding your gaze.

'Are we at pet names already?' You tease, 'Okay then, oh beloved Nitai, it has been a pleasure going out with you as well. Maybe we can do this again sometime, yeah?'

The Deity nods, and you go your seperate ways.

On the journey home, that last line plays in his head again; "Oh, beloved Nitai."

He's not a fan of sarcasm, and would so very much like to hear it again, but only genuinely, and only from your mouth.

What to do, what to do...

—

Bonus: General Headcanons and Trivia

Despite sleeping all the time, Nitai has never had a dream! His powers don't control whether someone dreams or not, just rest as a whole.

The Deity is very particular about clothes, he finds dressing up fun! He refuses to wear any itchy fabrics, only soft and silky ones— at least his one-colour fashion sense isn't hard to buy for.

He's majorly unaware of most things going on around him, and the times you spend together only make that worse, with his eyes watching you he often walks right into things.

That's okay, though; If he gets hurt it's no big deal, because he gets to whine and complain until you give him aid and attention. That's the majority of his plan to win you over...

The Deity is manipulative, but not on purpose. He's just simple-minded, and if he notices any tiny reason to keep his angel by his side he'll take it.

The sun is setting? Let him escort you. It's raining out? Just don't leave! It's cold? Cuddle up! Oh it's your face that's cold? Kisses it is, then~

#The Diety #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere god #drabbles

[krikeymate]

Fictober 2023: Day 31: “It’s not your fault.” - All Hallows' Eve. Fandom: Scream Rating: T Warnings: Mentioned violence.

➖

“Tara!” Sam gasps, spinning on her heels at the sight she catches in the corner of her eye. “How many times do I have to tell you not to lick the knife! You’ll cut yourself!”

Her little sister throws an innocent smile back at her, knowing far too well for her own good – or Sam’s – the effect it always has on her.

She thinks of a much younger Tara, perched on the kitchen counter top, legs swinging, with an unburdened smile as she licks batter from a knife she should never have been holding.

She’d always cut her tongue, and it was always up to Sam to press ice cubes to her mouth and healing kisses to her cheek.

Sometimes Sam thought she was doing it on purpose, Tara never seemed to learn her lesson. She seemed to enjoy it, actually. The exaggerated pout as she’d stick out her tongue and whine, the sugary-sweet giggles as Sam pressed her close, the way she would cling, like that was all she had wanted all along.

Sam had always hated herself for thinking that, for thinking her sister could be capable of such a thing. But now, watching the way her tongue curls and slides against the knife edge, the deliberate way she holds her gaze as fresh blood beads against the steel… How could that be anything other than deliberate?

She wonders what she’s supposed to make of the display.

She wonders what the thumping in her chest means.

She wonders how someone goes from licking batter to blood, from skinned knees and teary eyes to sharp smiles and forked tongues, from a victim to a killer.

“Did I do this to you?”

The thought escapes her lips without her permission. But when has her body ever listened to her brain?

Tara purses her lips, knife dropping away. Her euphoric expression turns to a frown as she raises a hand to brush the blood from her mouth, an act that would have been more effective if her hands had been clean.

But Tara’s hands will never be clean again.

“This is because of me, isn’t it?”

Sam’s own enjoyment of the evening seems to have faded with the kill, as it always does.

She’d hoped tonight would be different, that having Tara here, with her, partaking, would make it something different.

But somehow this is worse.

The reality of what she’s done hits her like never before. A nausea rises within her, what has–

“Don’t be silly Sam,” Tara coos, just like the eternal image of her gentle baby sister that lives in her head always does. “It’s not your fault.”

The words make her feel like she’s been stabbed in the chest, repeatedly.

She glances down at the body on the floor to make sure she hasn’t.

Still dead.

Still ripped apart.

Still a sick offering of love from one sister to another.

She wishes she knew which one of them was doing the offering anymore.

“I’ve always loved blood, remember?”

Sam doesn’t know how Tara got so close so fast, but as she stands before her, hand stroking along her shoulder, she can’t help but fall into her words.

It’s so hard to think when Tara is near. The disgust and self-flagellation that writhe in the darkness of her mind are burned away by Tara’s touch, a holy light that spreads to every part of her, as it has since the day she was first placed in her arms.

“You used to hate it,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around Sam’s shoulders. “But you’d always push through it, just for me.”

Sam would go to war for the smile her sister gives her.

“You didn’t make me, Sam,” Tara whispers softly, “but you do keep me going.”

“Isn’t that worse,” Sam replies, voice hushed and throat tight.

Tara tilts her head.

“You still don’t get it, do you? I was born this way, Sam. Just like you. We are who we are, if you want to blame anyone, blame mother.”

She slips one hand up to tap at Sam’s cheek. “You’re just keeping me fed when I’m starving, like a good sister should. How could that be bad?”

Like a good sister should.

The words feel like they’re searing themselves into her flesh.

That’s all she’s ever wanted.

She licks her lips, desperation slipping into every crack. “Am I? …A good sister?”

Tara smiles and darts forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

“The best.”

#/mp #fictober23 #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #my writing tag

[beedlemania]

Ur agere Davybaby headcannons making me realize I do that shit too… I ended up looking into what age regression actually was in like medical terms and in the community and stuff and I can’t believe Davy Jones headcannons are what made me realize…

In honor of this (I guess) I’m gonna give you some Transmasc Davy Agere thoughts.

Davy doing agere in a subconscious attempt to relive the boyhood he was denied growing up as a little girl. The Monkees canonical matching race car sheets is because Davy kept getting excited about them when he saw them in the department stores but he was too embarrassed to admit he wanted race car seats so the other guys got race car sheets and Davy was like “well it’d be weird if all of you had them and I didn’t so I guess I’ve gotta get some now!”

The other monkees sharing things they did as a kid and relating over classic like 9 year old boy things to do (like digging up worms and stuff) making Davy think about how he wasn’t allowed to play in the dirt cause he had to keep his dresses clean and then trying to convince the guys that he wants to those things but for *them* so *they* can relive their fond childhood memories and then when they start doing the things they enjoyed as kids they still like it but Davy is just ecstatic about it so whenever he suggests it they still go and play with him because he’s just so cute when he gets that happy. Whenever it rains Davy still picks up the worms he sees on the sidewalks and drops them in the dirt. Davy still falls asleep on long car drives and has to get carried in the house.

Davy has a collection of toys and when he’s alone he’ll play out little scenes with them. Davy will go outside and play in the sand for hours and then when the other monkees go out to see what he was doing he had dug out little ‘canyons’ for his toys and some of them are still left in the mounds of sand so they pick them up and take them inside (rinsing off the sand) and put them in Davys toybox (which Davy refuses to call a toybox because he’s an adult and those obviously aren’t toys they’re…something else)

Also Davy has opinions about play structures which he doesn’t realize is strange but Micky really likes getting his honest reviews on every single play structure they see. I have more thoughts but this has been enough projecting onto characters for one evening.

(And while I have your attention, ur fanfic is great and so enjoyable. Very tasting king, never stop 💛)

Despite popular belief, The Monkees is a very educational show 🤭🫡

And I was thinking along these lines last night omg you extracted from my brain!

He always gets super jealous when the guys are reminiscing their childhoods and all the things they were allowed to do that he wasn’t. He always tries to play along because he’s embarrassed to admit he never did those things. One or more of the guys will pick up on that and explain a story in way too much detail for Davy’s benefit so that he can pick up on all the little things he missed. Then when they go out to relive it, Davy knows what’s up.

Davy would sometimes hate regressing because it’s not ‘manly’ enough and it would make him insecure. He pushes himself to his limits every day to come across as masculine even though he has nothing to prove. Being the odd one out in a house of cis men has made him develop a bit of toxic masculinity around himself. Sometimes he pushes himself that bit too far and breaks. The guys have to nudge him into that headspace to help him.

Davy has lots of ‘boy’ toys but he also has a small collection of ‘girl’ toys that he used to have as a kid because despite everything, they’re a comfort. He keeps those well hidden and never lets them out of his room. (The guys have all seen them and don’t really care but they know Davy cares).

Davy never grew up with toy cars or learning mechanics and stuff like that since (it’s the 60’s) that’s a ‘man’s job’. Because of this he’s completely clueless on car models, parts, repairs, etc so Micky will get him toy cars and explain the different parts to him in a kid friendly way. (He can only teach Davy these things while he’s little so it doesn’t seem condescending). Micky is the first to get the race car sheets because ‘I always loved cars!’ Then Mike because ‘well the Monkeemoblie is my baby and this is almost the same’ then peters like ‘hey Davy we should match them!’ Because Peter knows he has to verbally ask Davy and make it seem like his idea so Davy will agree. (He’ll be like ‘urgg whatever peter sure’ then turn away and be like ‘YES’)

#I love love love your headcanons!!! #also thank you I’m glad you liked it :p #trans Davy #my little guy to project onto <3 #the monkees #davy jones #monkees headcanons #mike nesmith #peter tork #micky dolenz #davybaby

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Some of you have probably noticed that I havent made a liveblog post in a while. Well, thats because I usually read on the bus and during my classes and then I come home and summarize my thoughts on the 2-5 chapters I read after theyve marinated in my head for a little while, but unfortunately i appear to be incapacited at the moment so I cant do that. But because its been weeks and I dont wanna forget anything and I would very much like to finish this series soon, I'll try to read at home sometimes from now on. Since my brain is still a lil mush Im gonna do what I did for my last post, which is write down what Im thinking as Im reading instead of summarizing all my thoughts retroactively, except this time I have my german copy on hand so if I want to quote something it'll be a translation

Anyway, with all that said, welcome to my twisted mind, please enjoy my thoughts on A Court of Mist and Fury Chapters 40

Chapter 40

Ive been wanting to say this for a while now but i kept forgetting, but they translated 'winnowing' as 'den Wind spalten' ['splitting the wind'] and that is objectively so much cooler, shoutout to my gal Alexandra Ernst for that

Feyre being like "ugh, its so pathetic how these human guards think they could stand a chance against even one of us" hurts me so much you guys what have they done to my girl

Once again, its apparently perfectly fine if Rhysand doesnt tell Feyre anything "because she never asked" but if Tamlin doesnt tell her anything when she never asked hes the devil

Also once again, Feyre is perfectly not-triggered at Mor wearing a scarlet dress

Idk how to explain this, but Rhysand saying that Feyre is wearing a golden crown because "she looks so good with it, how could he not give her one" is somehow the perfect encapsulation of the hollowness of her High Lady title

Oh, of course three of the queens only showed up to watch the other two talk, itd be too hard to write dialogue if they actually participated in this important conversation

hello???? Feyre referring to humans as "your kind" ??? wth is going on

"every side bears some blame" hey rhysand ive got a question for ya. which side enslaved the other again

everytime the oldest queen does anything the prose feels the need to remind me of how old and wrinkly she is and its like, i get it, shes OLD

The oldest queen is spitting so hard rn, Im not even gonna question how they heard of the night court when Feyre, who lived closest to Prythian for many years, didnt know anything aout the individual courts prior to getting there herself, Im just gonna put her whole little monologue here: "Oh? [...] The High Lord of the Night Court asks that we join him so that we can save lives together? Fight for peace? And what about the lives that you have taken during your long, despicable existance? What about the High Lord who shrouds himself in darkness and destroys the mind of those who stand in his way? [...] We have heard of you on the continent, Rhysand. We have heard of what the Court of Night is capable of, what you do to your enemies. Peace? I wouldn't have thought that you - a man who enslaves the minds of others and kills them out of pure enjoyment - even know that word."

Anyway, she was spitting absolute bars and Feyre gets super mad about it and almost commits arson but manages to reign herself in and its like girlie, why are you so upset? one of the first things we find out about the night court in this book is that they apparently indiscriminately kill (or atleast torture) anyone who crosses the night court border without permission like theyre the fucking us government, i think the bad reputation is justified

Forgive me if I sound callous, but I have absolutely no sympathy for Rhysand flinching at the mention of Amarantha when Feyre didnt even use her name and is also talking about how she fucking DIED AT HER HANDS

God, I feel like I have something to say about every single line this post is gonna be like 10 thousand words long by the time Im done

So lets take it from the top; Feyre tries to convince the mortal queens to give them the half of the book by recounting to them how much everyone suffered under Amarantha and how she was gruesomely beaten to death and then revived, which is not a compelling argument to me, who actually witnessed all of that, much less these queens who have barely any context for anything shes saying right now

The oldest queen is like "you dont know anything about anything" which is true what the fuck does Feyre know about whats going on in the human world or even the fae world at large, and then Rhysand growls "dont you dare talk down to her!!" because shes passionate and speaking from the heart or whatever and its like, okay, shes still not good at politicking or even just basic negatioation and shes talking to a seasoned politician who old as fuck

Like, if Feyre was actually smart, she wouldve long since realized that she couldnt convince these queens to protect this little slip of land right up to prythians border and been like "okay, you dont wanna protect the land, but can you atleast organize an evacuation so you can atleast save the people" Sure, they definitely still wouldnt have agreed to that because its a sjm book and theyre written to be comically evil, but it would atleast demonstrate Feyre being a little savvy, because right now all we're getting is her being stupid and stubborn in a situation where she really cant afford that

god, im just now noticing how pissed off I am, its been bleeding into my commentary and its not gonna stop, Im sorry. wait no, if youre reading this youre probably looking for negativity, so youre welcome, actually

Anyway, Rhys also says that Feyre is a kindhearted soul looking out for people who cant defend themselves even though she definitely thought that those human guards were pathetic for wanting to defend themselves when she and the other fae were soooooo much more powerful and he definitely knows that because the mental bond is fully open during this meeting and he chastises the queens for being selfish and cowardly when its like, my brother in christ you are doing the exact same bullshit, but atleast the queens are defending a wholeass continent while hes defending one (1) city. and iirc that city ends up getting attacked and destroyed anyway so good job my guy

Theres something so oddly biblical about the story Mor is telling about Miriam, down to her name being Miriam

That island thats removed from time is such bullshit istg

Is it just me or have these bozos not actually explained what they even need the other half of the book for. theyre just like "we need to stop this war and we'd like peace between humans and fae" and its like cool, hows the book gonna help with that though

im sorry, feyre wants to punch that old woman in the face????

the chapter ends with Elain being like "I hope they burn in hell" and i get that, they just straight up said that they want to abandon a whole bunch of people (them included) to die if a war breaks out, but you cant say that the night court girlies are not also at fault for being so fucking bad at politics

#anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti rhysand #anti feyre #flames and darkness liveblog

[girlfromthecrypt]

My first Writeblr tag game!!

Thanks so much for the tag @mthollowell-writes! This is one of my first ever tag-games, so I'm pumped. Also, this made me realize I rly need to do a WIP intro for my main project. It's a dark fantasy/horror with some romance, too. The working title is Fucked Up Fairytale. That aside, let's goooooo

1) What motivates you to write?

Anything and everything! Writing is my coping mechanism, for good times and bad. It helps me keep hold of happy feelings and release negative ones. 

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

I have multiple WIPs, but I'm going to refer to the one I plan on actually turning into a book. The working title is Fucked Up Fairytale. That may undergo revisions. Anyhow, I'll share two lines/snippets, if I may! Mainly because the first one is very short indeed. Here it is:

I braced myself for stupidity, and he didn’t let me down. —This is in the main character's (Margot's) narrative inner voice during a conversation with her little brother. 

And here's the other one, same chapter, same conversation! I feel like I may have gone a little overboard with Margot's world-weariness, but I kinda like it:

“The world I dream of has me making six figures at a job where my boss doesn’t need me to show him my tits,” I said, a chill creeping into my tone. “It has me going home at a reasonable hour so I can watch TV and fall asleep with a bag of spicy chips, preferably next to a spouse who doesn’t mind that they make me gassy.”

Neither of us spoke for a couple beats. Then, softly, my brother asked, "And where's the magic in that?"

"Nowhere, Callie. That's kind of the point."

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

That would apply to Margot's love interest from Fucked Up Fairytale. He's, um… special. To me, and in general. Seeing as he's one of the Folk, it would be unwise to share his name, especially since not even Margot knows it as of right now. He calls himself the Huntsman, so that'll work for now.

He's this rather delicate-looking youngish man; slender, short and long-haired—he's quite pretty, really. And he's the smuggest, most self-satisfied dork you've ever met, but in a sweet, non-threatening way. I just love his and Margot's more wholesome exchanges. They clash a lot; she's a recent university graduate, has been a skeptic all her life and didn't mean to get roped up into any supernatural stuff, and he's this forest-dwelling fairy-like entity. But they end up being really good for each other, despite (or perhaps because of) their differences. Even though their dynamic starts off based purely on physical attraction, it grows into something more and their interactions really feel cathartic at times.

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

I love what happens shortly after getting the idea for something. It's like a little twitch in the brain that grows and grows and it's just… awesome. And I'm not actually doing anything at that stage, so it's also the easiest step. Also, I just love writing dialogue.

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

I think that's also writing dialogue! Not much else to say there. Oh, and nature descriptions sometimes. I've been told my nature descriptions are beautiful.

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

How passionate everyone is! We all do the same thing, we write, and we all love doing it. And there's such an undertone of positivity to it all, of openness. That's really nice.

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

Oof. This one's too hard for me. I'm honestly struggling with a lot of writing software so… I don't have a good answer to that. 

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

The majority of Fucked Up Fairytale takes place in a single location. It's a magical forest that is its own entity, almost deity-adjacent. Certain characters worship it to gain its protection and power, but it can also be dangerous, trapping humans and turning them into so something they're… not. 

I just really like that forest! I enjoy describing it, I enjoy creating new creatures it may be harboring, I enjoy lending this seemingly inanimate idyllic environment a personality that kind of shines through in a lot of scenes. I almost wish it were real. Almost.

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

I'm with you.

That's all I, or anyone, can really offer, I believe. I've dealt with month-long dry spells, really horrible ones. I know it's shitty, I know it sucks. My advice, if I had any, would be to force yourself to write anyways. It's the only way to get back into it, and you should never ever give up writing. Writing is worth it.

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

Well, obviously I'm gonna have to mention @prismatic-bell who once wrote a wonderful thirty-part fanfic to one of my stories and is, in fact, amazing. Xe has contributed greatly to a lot of my stories and I will be forever grateful for that. Also @rehnwriter who helped me set up my blog because I'm bad at internet stuff and need constant surveillance.

I'm tagging… uh… anyone who sees this and wants to participate! I'm really eager to get to know more folks from this community.

#writeblr #writeblr tag games #tag game #writer things #creative writing #original fiction #original writing #writers on tumblr #new writing blog #original characters #horror writing #nosleep author #writer thoughts #female writers #dark fantasy writing #dark fairycore #dark fairytale #novel wip #my novel #my writing