#the way this author WRITES jfc I love it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

70% of Tumblr users say the Dashboard is their favorite place to spend time online.

#the way this author WRITES jfc I love it

ugh-yoongi · 11 months

Text

about u | jjk

❝ this song is about a love that you can’t reconcile—wanting to make a home out of a person that has proved to you time and again that they are not a home; they are just a person. it’s about retracing scars, negative patterns, all with the silent belief that moments of communion and understanding might justify months of misfiring and regret. we’re all just trying to get back to that ‘first high’ feeling—an honest endeavor, however futile. ❞

✤ PAIRING jungkook x f. reader ✤ GENRE exes to fwb to strangers, college/grad school au; angst, smut ✤ RATING explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ WARNINGS toxic & self-destructive behavior (inc. jealousy and possessiveness). infidelity (with an external partner). reader is bisexual (which is not a warning but a general statement so the homophobes stay away) and there is a brief mention of coming out. two people who are both too honest and unable to communicate. swearing. cigarettes and alcohol use. kissing, some spitting, fingering, oral sex, protected vaginal sex. every time i asked jess to read this over for me she always came back with "jfc jewel" so i guess this is angsty. unhappy ending. ✤ WORDCOUNT 7.3k ✤ LISTEN TO this was based off of "winterbreak" by muna, but there are bits and pieces of the entire about u album in here, "everything" and "outro" especially. ✤ THANK YOU to muna for writing the album, @the-boy-meets-evil and @hot-soop for reading over this for me multiple times and putting up with all my brainstorming and my beloved @here2bbtstrash for the extra set of eyes. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi, thank you for reading! i cannot emphasize enough how much more sense this story will make if you listen to about u in the background. i would also like to reiterate that these two are maybe not all that likeable most of the time, but i hope they're still human. as i once saw in an ao3 tag, you are more than the worst thing you've ever done.

[ the first. ] You’d read an article once—something about the second time you fall in love.

It’s going to feel different, it’d said. The first time felt like a dream.

As you stare across the kitchen at Jeongguk, you think that might be true. The part about it feeling like a dream, because it used to be a pinky-lavender haze and everything that has come after hasn’t felt so good. Not a nightmare, but close. At least with nightmares you can force yourself awake. You can tell yourself it wasn’t real. You can pretend.

This is as real as it gets, watching him smile over the rim of a plastic red cup. Someone else’s hand on his arm. The girl it belongs to looks nothing like you, and you wonder if she’ll be the second time he falls in love. You also wonder why you didn’t stay home. You wonder about fault and regret and if either of them even matter. No, you eventually decide: there’s just you in Taehyung’s kitchen and Jeongguk on the other side of it and the result of a million decisions in between you.

There had been a plenitude of reasons you’d fallen in love with Jeongguk, but he’s undoubtedly beautiful. Soft, tinkling laugh; a smile that reaches his eyes. Not all that long ago you used to be responsible for both, so there’s a lingering, bitter sting beneath your wonder. Jeongguk is beautiful and no longer yours, and that’s enough to have you retreating to the living room.

Jimin’s at your side immediately. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of your head that does little to alleviate your guilt. Missing someone is always easier with thousands of miles in between you. All those distractions. Just like a nightmare, distance lets you pretend. Not so easy to do when all those ghosts come back to haunt you; when you can still hear Jeongguk’s soft voice in the kitchen. The music is so loud but you’d be able to hear him anywhere, you think.

Even places he’s not.

Jimin leans down, forces his way into your personal space. “Are you doing okay?” he asks, and his words are warm and wrapped in alcohol, but you nod. You’re scared you might start crying if you open your mouth. Afraid of what might come out besides shuddering breaths, which just makes you feel stupid. Baby’s first breakup, you chide yourself. Maybe Jimin can get you a commemorative ornament.

Taehyung is turning twenty-four and it should be joyous. It is joyous. People that aren’t you are laughing and dancing and pressing their cheeks together as they huddle close to take selfies. Someone you don’t recognize is cackling wildly as they wrangle Taehyung into a headlock and smear cake frosting on his face. Someone else is tutting and running a rag under the tap to wipe it off and then the frosting is gone. It’s hard not to draw parallels.

There one minute and gone the next.

Gently wiped away.

But the feeling lingers, doesn’t it? The tack of the frosting, all the love that transpired between you and Jeongguk. Sometimes you fear it’s permanent—not able to be wiped away with a rag run under the tap, not able to be wiped away at all. Just this burden you’re cursed to carry, because Jeongguk isn’t and can’t be yours but knowing does nothing to erase the past. Doesn’t help you forget. It’s fucked and it’s unfair, but that’s just the way it goes.

“I think I should leave,” you say, watching another scene play out in the kitchen. Jeongguk fills a cup and hands it to a different pretty girl. Everyone here is so pretty. Makes sense; so is Taehyung. Pretty people are drawn to one another like that. “Is it too soon? Will it be obvious?”

Jimin sighs, wraps you in a hug. Says, “Oh, love,” in a way that’s too sympathetic. Makes you sound too pathetic. “No one will blame you. These things are hard.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Not that you don’t appreciate Jimin’s reassurance, but sometimes it all feels a bit silly. Weren’t you the one to walk away? Call it off? Are you allowed to mourn the very thing you destroyed?

And Jimin, bless him, is so patient with you. Asks if you need a ride home and you wave him off, remind him your parents’ place isn’t far, that the cold might do you some good. You tell him you appreciate him and his night shouldn’t be ruined on your account, and you just laugh when he tries to protest, tell him to go get himself another drink.

“Text me when you get home,” he says, voice stern, and you brush that off, too. “I’m serious. It’s late and it’s dark and anyone could be out there—”

“Maybe I should walk you home, then?”

All those articles you read about the second time you fall in love didn’t mention this. Said nothing about the way a voice will always be able to turn your world on its axis and how to right it again. Said nothing about how to coexist with ghosts. Said nothing about what to do with all the yearning and the pain and the stupid, selfish strands of hope. There are paragraphs about an overarching, general grief, but nothing about the specific one living inside of you.

The shock on Jimin’s face is reflecting your own. It’s nice to not be the only one caught off-guard and stammering over their words. It’s nice to have a friend when it feels like your entire world is on the edge of collapse. “I don’t…” he begins. Swallows thickly and turns to look at you, an obvious question biting at the back of his teeth.

You know the answer.

You know that what you should say isn’t what you want, just like you know it isn’t fair, this thing you’re doing. Because you turn to Jeongguk and say, “Are you sure?” which might as well be a yes, because you’re selfish and suspended in this liminal space and don’t want him to go home with anyone else. You don’t want him to move on.

He shrugs. “It’s on the way.”

You say okay. Let Jimin help you into your coat, hide his face in your neck as he tells you to be careful, and that stings. You’ve never had to be careful around Jeongguk before. The two of you never, ever hurt one another—until you did. The kind of hurt your heart hasn’t easily forgotten, is still stubbornly clinging to.

Your heart wants Jeongguk, always.

You want Jeongguk, always, so you let him grab your hand, link your pinkies together. You let him lead you out of the house and don’t turn back to see who might be watching. God, you want to, though. Want all those pretty girls to see that he’s leaving with you. Want them to know it’s your name that’s branded on his heart; your name beneath his skin. For once, you want someone to want what you have.

It’s strange. The two of you have been apart for eight months, and there’s a lot of things you might want to tell someone in that amount of time, but you find it hard now. Don’t know where to start, which words to use. Don’t want to say something stupid, because Jeongguk is just walking you home but you’ve assigned a lot of meaning to it, and eight months is a long time to yearn for something and finally get it.

So you say, “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” because it’s something that’s true and easy to say.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away. Drops your pinky so he can hold your hand properly—fully, all five fingers intertwined—and squeezes. “Is it weird for you?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound nervous. Almost sounds like he’s smiling a little, giving you shit. He sounds familiar.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.” He asks why? at the same time he passes under a streetlight. Lights up golden and amber. He’s beautiful—“I don’t know. It’s just… I guess it’s just been a long time. We didn’t leave things the best.”—and no longer yours.

The Jeongguk walking beside you is not the same Jeongguk that walked out of your dorm eight months ago, tears staining his cheeks, the smell of a goodbye fuck still clinging to his clothes, his skin, sweat still dotting his hairline. This Jeongguk is sharper, more selfish with his laughter, and you wonder about all the ways heartbreak can change a person. How you’re changed for facilitating it. You wonder if Jeongguk blames you before deciding you’re too much of a coward to find out the answer.

“Was it that bad?” When you look over at him, he’s chewing on his lip ring, trying to bite back a smile. “You’ll have to remind me. I don’t remember.”

You stop walking, jerking forward when Jeongguk is left unaware and keeps going. “That’s not funny,” you say. “Jeongguk, that’s not—I did what I thought was best, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing—”

The smile drops from Jeongguk’s face. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says, and he’s hesitant to reach out and touch you but he does it anyway. Cups your face in both hands. “I know, it’s okay. That’s just—it’s just life, right? You did what you had to do, babe. It’s okay.”

You did what you had to do, babe.

Did you?

Jeongguk is selfish with his laughter but never his affection, and knowing that feels like an albatross around your neck. You have broken him so entirely, but he’s still kind to you, finds it a worthwhile thing to be.

His eyes go to your lips. Tattooed fingers dimple your face just a little more, dig in deeper. When you dare to take him in, he looks… different. No longer amused, the way he was just seconds ago; now, there’s something dark there. Longing, anger, hunger. Jeongguk looks like he wants to swallow you whole and make you suffer; looks like he wants to cage you beneath him and worship you through the comedown.

I’d let him, you think as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. As you smell the smoke that lingers, the sweat and the alcohol. I’d still let him.

It’d be so easy to press a kiss there. To feel his skin beneath your lips: flushed, still warm from the party, not all daunted by the bitter winter wind biting at your cheeks. As you lean in further, you wonder if it’ll taste the same. You wonder how much can change in eight months and if all those old comforts change, too. If it’s something inevitable.

Jeongguk moves his hands to your waist. Crawls his fingertips beneath your jacket and finds bare skin. Sucks in the smallest bit of air, and you would’ve missed it had it been any other time, but winter is always quiet and subdued. Always smells transitional, something dangerously close to hope and redemption.

And eight months is a long time to miss the feel of someone’s lips, isn’t it, so you think you can be excused for reaching for something you thought you’d never have again.

The first kiss is hesitant, testing; pressed to the spot just beneath his ear. Maybe you don’t know this Jeongguk, but you know the version of him you used to love—the one you still do—and you know the way he’ll sigh. You know the way his hands will grip tighter. You can still hear it, the way you used to kiss him there and he’d say, don’t start something you can’t finish, baby, and the way you’d laugh and always, always finish it. Can still feel the warmth that used to bloom in your chest. The love.

Jeongguk won’t say that now, you know. Wonder if it’d sound more like don’t start something you already finished if he did. He huffs a small laugh, more an exhale than anything, and asks, “What are you doing?”

And you answer, “I don’t know,” because it’s honest. You admit, “I guess I just miss you,” because it’s true.

A war wages within Jeongguk. You can see the storms, the white flags that are close to being thrown out. Can see the way his gaze flits between your lips and your eyes. What he’s looking for, you don’t know, but the storm rages on. And just like real life, just when you think it’s at its worst, there’s a break in the clouds: a tangible beam of silvery-warm light when Jeongguk tangles his hands in your hair, thumbs at the hinge of your jaw. Jeongguk tilts your head back and looks ethereal in the amber glow of the streetlights.

He says, “We shouldn’t,” and you nod, because you know and the anguish on his face is surely mirrored on yours, but when he follows it with, “let me take you home, let me take care of you,” you find it impossible to care.

You nod.

Everything is amber.

Eight months is a long time to go without the way Jeongguk kisses you: intentionally, demandingly, insatiably. He still tastes the same. Tastes like the first time you’d ever dared to kiss him, back at that party freshman year, tongue flavored with cheap liquor. Jeongguk tastes forbidden and feels like coming home.

You couldn’t say how you make it to Jeongguk’s apartment, but the way you stumble over the threshold feels familiar. The way the door is barely locked when Jeongguk crowds your space; picks you up, wraps your legs around his waist, presses you against it, hips moving on their own accord, rutting, all those little sounds spilling from his lips—everything is familiar. This is not just a practiced song and dance but something memorized. Something instinctual. You could be apart from Jeongguk for years instead of months and your body would still know what to do.

He carries you to his bedroom and you don’t think about who else has been between his sheets, because he puts you down so gently. Kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck—all gentle, powder-soft. Sounds like spring when you paw at the velvety cashmere of his sweater, pull it over his head, and he sighs. Feels like he’s breathing fresh life into something he shouldn’t, something long dead, but then you skim along his warm skin and your world is reduced to the way it feels like silk beneath your fingertips.

“I still love you,” Jeongguk whispers against your mouth, his inked fingers toying with the button on your jeans. Pops it open, pulls the denim down your thighs. Doesn’t bother pulling them off, only goes as far as your knees. And it’s uncomfortable, the way it’s bunched there, but the way Jeongguk says, “Fuck, missed you so much,” is so sweet.

Everything happens too fast.

Jeongguk leaves your shirt on. Drags it up and over your breasts and kisses at the newly-exposed skin. Sinks his teeth in, lets it hurt for a second before he laves over the marks. Settles between your legs and coaxes an orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Speaks his praise into the juncture of your thigh, breathless as he touches himself, strokes his cock with the wetness lingering on his fingers. Looks so, so pretty when he sits back on his haunches and says, “Just wanna look at you,” and makes it sound wistful and longing.

Makes it sound like it means something.

He’s still touching himself, still slicking himself up. There’s a split second where he goes to move and thinks better of it. Looks to the side before looking back at you. The storm kicks up again. “Have—” he begins before he swallows thickly. Dares to look hopeful, even through the squall. “Have you been with anyone else? Since…?”

You haven’t. Tried to, once—another stupid party, more cheap liquor passed to your mouth from someone else’s, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. They hadn’t tasted like Jeongguk; hadn’t felt the same. Two puzzle pieces that fit together all wrong.

Jeongguk has, though. Something you’d heard from a friend of a friend that you weren’t meant to. They’d called it a rebound, and it had bloomed so many ugly thoughts in your head. Five months had passed. Jeongguk was fucking someone else in his bed while you were in yours, torturing yourself over whether or not to tell him happy birthday. Whether it was allowed to or not, it’d stung.

(You had. You’d reworded the text a million times, plucked up all the courage you could find before you sent it. It’d gone unanswered, just like you expected it would, and you thought it was because Jeongguk didn’t want to talk to you. Thought you were digging your fingers into wounds that had yet to heal, so it’d stung but you understood.

But Jeongguk hadn’t answered because he was fucking someone else. Had someone else’s taste on his tongue; was panting someone else’s name into the dark. The embarrassment had been the worst part.)

Still does, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you lie. “I—yeah,” you answer. “Just one.”

Looks like it stings Jeongguk, too. “Right,” he responds, blinking back tears, and he’s got a lot of nerve, you think. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just—a condom. Are you…”

“Jeongguk—”

“Are you sure? Maybe this isn’t…” He huffs. Drops the condom on the bed, hangs his head. “What are we doing?”

You stare up at the ceiling. Nothing up there but the swirls in the plaster. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Hurting each other, probably.”

Jeongguk walks his fingers down your thigh. Grips at your skin, wants it to bruise. Wants you to have something to remember him by come morning. “Sometimes I’m really mad at you, you know?”

“Yeah, trust me, I know.”

He nods. Refuses to look you in the eye now that you’re watching him. “I still love you so fucking much and I’m still so angry. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I… fuck, I thought I was over it. I thought I’d see you and not feel a fucking thing.” There’s fresh ink on the back of his left hand. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but you notice it now, when he runs his hands down his face.

You also notice the way the atmosphere shifts, the split second in which his heartache bleeds into something else—resolve, maybe. Obstinacy. Like he knows how this is going to end and he’s going to do it anyway. He’s going to find the most painful part and press on it, dig his fingers in, and it’s just an inevitable, foregone thing. Something he can prevent and something he’s choosing not to.

“You fucked someone else,” he sneers. Rips the foil open with his teeth, flashing too white in the dark of his bedroom. Rolls the condom on like it’s an inconvenience. Like you’re an inconvenience. “Was it good? Was it worth it?”

You roll your eyes. Feel the way your breath catches in your throat, because you’re not going to cry. Jeongguk fucked someone else and is vilifying you and it’s hypocritical and ugly and unfair, but you’re not going to cry over it. You’re going to press the gas pedal as far as it can go, say, “Yeah, it was,” and find some wicked delight in the way his eyes squeeze shut, as if it can spare him from the pain.

The two of you used to love each other. Jeongguk used to smile down at you when you were naked beneath him like this. Used to lean in close and whisper that he loved you just as he pushed inside even though you knew, you could feel it in everything he did. Now, there’s no smile. Now, he leans down and spits on your pussy and pushes inside and doesn’t tell you a goddamn thing.

Not with words, anyway.

Because the way he fucks you says it all. Impersonal, desperate, bitter. He grips your hips and fucks into you frenzied and fast. Takes your hand and puts it on your clit and tells you to get yourself off. An inconvenience. Tells you he misses your tight cunt, tells you he misses the way it milks his cock, tells you he misses watching the way you come undone underneath him, but he doesn’t tell you he misses you.

There’s a moment, just after he spills into the condom and stays inside, just catching his breath, when you think he might say it. Might tell you he loves you around the lump in his throat, might apologize, might ask if you two can’t figure it out.

There’s only a moment.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. Lets the moment pass. Pulls out and ties off the condom and wordlessly gets up to throw it away. It’s the silence that pisses you off. The disregard. Jeongguk hates you for something you’d lied about doing that he’d done for real, so you can be wordless, too. You can treat him like an inconvenient, cheap fuck, too. You can get up and find your clothes and pull them on and let him watch, words biting at the back of his teeth, and you can tell yourself to feel nothing.

You can say, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” and not shy away from the resentment in your voice, because it’s properly placed. “You fucked someone else, too, so you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, Jeongguk.”

Eight months is a long time to miss someone, to play at daydreams. To think of all the things you want to say, the things you’ll do. In not one of them did you think about this: you, fully dressed and stinking of sex, saying, “It’s late. I’ll show myself out.”

Jeongguk, tears glistening on his cheeks, saying, “No, let me—baby, I’m sorry, please—I’ll drive you.”

A shake of your head. Jeongguk doesn’t push it.

Roll credits.

[ the second. ] Jimin wants to talk your ear off about it—the girl you’re seeing.

It’s new and there isn’t much to say. You tell him the two of you met at one of the student showcases put on by the art department and leave off the part about all of Jeongguk’s old friends being there, that he would’ve participated, too, if he hadn’t dropped out after you broke his heart. Leave off the part where you would’ve been there to support him instead, in another life. Leave off the part where it’d just been morbid curiosity: you, not an art student, wandering those halls to see if Jeongguk’s photographs were still framed on the wall.

“Is she nice?” Jimin asks, head nearly knocking into yours as someone shoves by him. “Fucking asshole.”

You nod. “Why would I date someone that wasn’t nice?”

Jimin, perpetually unbothered until he decidedly isn’t, sends you a look that he hides behind the rim of his cup. “Because you’re in your self-destruction era and aren’t thinking clearly.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You know I’m happy if you’re happy, but…” He pauses as he trails off. Tries to wrap his words in something delicate. “It’s pretty clear you still aren’t over it. That’s all.”

You snort. “That’s all?” you repeat, like it’s some small thing. Like it’s normal and fine.

“I’m sure it’s easier to pretend when the two of you are thousands of miles apart,” Jimin amends, and he must see how you bristle, stung by the callout, because his eyes soften. “Tell me about her.”

She’s beautiful and kind and smart. Smokes clove cigarettes and the smell is always clinging to her skin. You know how to make her come but don’t know what she’s majoring in—fashion, you think, because she’s always holding fabric swatches against your skin. Tells you what suits you and what doesn’t. Tells you which textures don’t work, what’s too warm, and she doesn’t need to tell you what’s too cold because you already know it’s you.

She’s beautiful and kind and smart and has no idea you’re still in love with someone else.

But you can’t tell Jimin that, can you? Can’t tell him about how she’d dragged you to a private corner in the gallery and kissed you breathless; the way she made you come on her fingers; the way Jeongguk’s name nearly slipped out of your mouth as you shook. Can’t tell him that she’s got arms full of art. Delicate patchwork; nothing like the harsh, bold colors inked into Jeongguk’s skin, but it feels the same to trace the lines.

You can’t tell him much of anything, so what you settle on is, “She’s nice—good for me,” and it doesn’t sound convincing to either of you.

Jimin doesn’t call you on it, though. Not again. Instead, he keeps his gaze steady, staring into the fire, the flames dancing wildly when you meet his eye. “You need to be careful,” he says. “You’re going to hurt her, too. Maybe worse than you hurt him.”

“Jimin—”

“Just be careful,” he reiterates, and all you can do is nod. What else is there to do besides wait for the inevitable crash and burn?

And it’s a little unfair, you think, that Taehyung grows older every single year. A little unfair that guilt won’t let you decline the invitations. A little unfair that you can still pick Jeongguk’s laughter out of a crowd. A little unfair that these hometown friends-turned-acquaintances still throw sideways glances whenever someone else touches him, as if he still has someone to answer to; as if they’re expecting something.

An hour. You’ve survived an hour longer than you did last year, and it’s not much but you’re still proud of yourself. You’ve had a drink, talked to someone other than Jimin. Managed to ignore the way Jeongguk is ignoring you; the way he immediately leaves a room as soon as you enter. Maybe it’s better like this, you reckon. Maybe it’s what you need.

An hour is long enough. Jimin doesn’t comment on the way your bones crack when you stand to leave. No one needs a reminder of growing older. He doesn’t ask if you’ll be okay, either; if you need a ride home. Instead, he stays quiet as he studies you, clearly wondering if lightning strikes twice. If you’re going to be able to walk past Jeongguk and out the door without making another mistake.

You can at least make it across Taehyung’s sprawling yard and to the house. You can dodge the sweat-slick bodies and the girls sitting in laps. You can toss your empty cup in an overflowing trash can. You can pretend the eyes on your back are well-intentioned.

You can make it to the bathroom.

Annoying, the way your phone has been vibrating all night only to disappoint you. Irrational. You scroll past the emoji-laden messages, the coy flirting, because they’re from the person you’re actually dating—the person you told you were going to sleep early—and not from Jeongguk. You should feel guilty. You should feel guilty, but the face staring back at you in the mirror doesn’t look guilty at all.

She looks tired. A little beat-down, but that’s life.

Maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve spent the last two years of your life chasing after ghosts.

A knock at the door startles you. Sends your phone tumbling to the floor, screen probably cracked to hell, and you swear under your breath. “Just a minute!” you call out, a little stunned from how threadbare you feel all of a sudden.

Still, the knocking continues, and you’re on your knees on this bathroom floor and all you want to do is cry. You don’t want to be on this floor in this house. You don’t want to keep putting in the effort of maintaining the facades of all these friendships. You don’t want to keep coming back to this town, don’t want to keep being confronted with the harsh reality of all your mistakes.

“Just a fucking min—”

The words die on your tongue, because there Jeongguk stands, all the air in your lungs dissipating at the amount of space he takes up. Even worse when he steps inside and locks the door behind him. You feel like you’re going to drown. You feel like you’re going to scream or cry or both, and you’re still on the floor, still on your knees, and it feels too much like penance when you look up at him. Feels like you’re groveling, praying for forgiveness.

You stand quickly, ignoring the rush of blood to your head, the way your legs tingle. Jeongguk still hasn’t said a word, doesn’t seem like that’s going to change, either, and it’s really all you can do to stay on your feet when everything in you is screaming to collapse.

Eventually, he says, “You’re seeing someone,” and it isn’t a question, not really, but it borders on one. It’s a question and a confirmation and somehow sounds a lot like he’s asking for permission for something.

“I—yeah.” You swallow. “It’s new.”

He hums. Steps a little closer. Leans against the sink. Darts out his tongue to swipe at his bottom lip before he tugs his lip ring between his teeth. “Yeah? Does he treat you well?”

“She,” you correct, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Jeongguk, at one point, had known everything about you, but not this. “And yeah,” you add on, barely a whisper, “she does.”

Part of you feels embarrassed. Jeongguk had known everything about you but not this, and you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty but it still sits there in the middle of your chest. Feels like you’ve been keeping secrets. Feels like shame, even though you aren’t ashamed. Feels like you’re awaiting judgment. But the surprise in Jeongguk’s eyes disappears and something else settles in its place—uncertainty, if you had to guess.

“Are you happy with her?”

You shrug. “Like I said, it’s new.”

And Jeongguk is as emulous as ever, because he asks, “Does it feel like what we had?” and you already know the answer is no.

“I’m not sure anything will.”

It’s honest; you hadn’t said it to appease him, but he looks pleased anyway. You’re starting to understand why so many people write about their first love. Why it’s such a powerful role to fill. Because you and Jeongguk are standing in a bathroom behind a locked door, feet apart from one another, and you think, I don’t think there’s anyone I will ever love more than him even though it’s been two years. You think, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this.

You think, I would try over and over and over again if he asked me to.

Later on, when you’re alone in your childhood bed and your face is streaked with tears, only your shame and guilt for company, you won’t be able to figure out who moved first, but one of you had.

Once upon a time, you had known everything about Jeongguk, too. You could recite his taste from memory, but it’s different this time. He licks into your mouth and it tastes like ash—nothing like the clove cigarettes your girlfriend smokes, but close enough that the parallel burns like acid in your throat. It’s close enough that you can keep your eyes shut and pretend again.

This time there’s no softness to be found. There’s just Jeongguk’s mouth pressed to yours, barely letting you breathe, not wanting anyone to hear. There’s just the sink digging into your back. Jeongguk’s hands gripping at your waist, pulling at the hem of your skirt. There’s the frustration and desperation of two people who love each other but will never, ever get it right.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as he spits into his hand and slicks you up, if you’re going to tell her.

There’s you, already too far gone, saying you don’t know.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as you’re clenching around him and dragging him with you to the edge, if you’d come back to him if he asked you to.

There’s you, already knowing the answer to this, too, saying you would.

But this isn’t that and Jeongguk doesn’t ask. When it’s over, he tosses the condom and does a half-assed job of helping you clean up and he doesn’t ask. He splashes water on his face and fixes his hair and he doesn’t ask. He tucks his cock back into his briefs and zips his jeans and he doesn’t ask.

Jeongguk has one hand on the doorknob and he doesn’t ask you to come back. Instead, he asks, “How long are you gonna keep doing this?”

For once, you don’t have an answer.

[ the third. ] You go even farther away for grad school.

You try to put more distance between you and Jeongguk, more distance between you and all the skeletons in your closet, but you just pack them up in different boxes and bring them with you.

You spend New Year’s Eve chain-smoking in your parents’ back yard—that same brand of clove cigarettes, because hearts are easy to break but some habits are not. Sometimes it’s a comfort to hurt yourself in the same way you hurt others, so you chain-smoke and you don’t go to to Taehyung’s birthday party because you weren’t invited and it doesn’t sting in the same way that it doesn’t sting that Jimin doesn’t call you once you’re home because he hasn’t spoken to you in a year.

The clock ticks down to midnight. Someone sets off fireworks. Absolutely nothing changes.

There are no half-baked resolutions. There’s no hope that this is going to be the year you get your shit together. There’s just you and the bed you’ve made for yourself; the autopilot you can’t—won’t—turn off, because you don’t know where you’re going anyway so you might as well just go wherever it’s taking you. There’s guilt and there’s shame and there’s baggage, but they’re all old friends. Those are old scars.

The sweatshirt you’re wearing doesn’t belong to you, and it does little to protect you from the bitter cold that bites at your skin. Jeongguk doesn’t belong to you, either, but he keeps coming back to you like he does.

“Mind if I sit down?”

You shrug, gesturing to the empty chair beside you. The small fire you’d built is down to its last embers, and it’s what you focus on, because you can’t focus on Jeongguk anymore.

“You weren’t at Tae’s.”

“Wasn’t invited.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve—”

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

He seems to hear what you don’t say. I wouldn’t have gone because I can’t be around you anymore. I wouldn’t have gone because I don’t trust myself with you. I wouldn’t have gone because I’ve burned down every good thing in my life trying to keep you. “Oh. Yeah, that—that makes sense.”

He’d texted you. Asked if he could see you. Just wanted to talk, and you’ve never cared much for symbolism, but nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve had seemed as good a time as any to let it go, so you’d said yes. Now, when there isn’t much to say, all of Jeongguk’s flimsy excuses are laid bare. Transparent.

“Was Jimin there?”

Jeongguk nods. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. Feels like it’s made of concrete. “No. We haven’t talked since last winter break.”

“Because of—”

How cruel, that you’d confessed to Jimin instead of the one person who deserved to know. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrug again. “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s permanent, just until I can get my shit together, I guess. Wasn’t fair to drag him into my mess anyway.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jeongguk says, and it sounds like something he wants to be true. It sounds like something he’s said countless times in defense of himself. “We’d—I’d do it if I could.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “of course.”

Silence creeps up again, so you dig another cigarette out of the pack and offer one to Jeongguk that he waves away. “Cloves? That’s a weird choice.”

“Just something I picked up along the way.”

He hears you again: They’re what she used to smoke. It helps me heal to hurt myself with something that reminds me of her. Sometimes I chain-smoke clove cigarettes and I don’t wash the smell from my hands, my clothes, my hair, because it makes me feel less alone.

So he asks, “Was it real?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, flicking the wheel of your lighter, words spoken around the cigarette stuck between your lips. “It never had a chance. Not a real one, anyway.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Know what? That I went away to college and started fucking women?” Jeongguk shrugs. Has the audacity to look embarrassed. “What are you trying to ask me? You wanna know if I keep coming back to you because I’m scared to come out to my parents?”

“No. I don’t know. I just—”

The laugh that escapes you is scorched and bitter. Sounds the way the tobacco tastes. “No, Jeongguk. I keep coming back to you because I keep hoping you’ll ask me to.” I keep hoping you still want me.

“I almost did,” he admits, and you can hear how he swallows around the lump in his throat. “The first time.”

“When you were a dick about me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, okay. You didn’t want me back, you just didn’t want me to be with anyone else.”

He huffs. “How the fuck do you know what I want? You’ve never bothered to ask.”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” comes your response, stilted and practiced. “It doesn’t matter what we want, because we’re just going to keep hurting one another trying to get it right.” You suck in a breath, wipe furiously at the tears on your cheeks. “And we’re never going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then ask.” Jeongguk startles, looks at you with wide eyes. “Ask me to come back for real, Jeongguk, and I will.”

A beat of silence.

Two, three, four.

Someone sets off another round of fireworks. A dog barks. It’s so cold that you can see Jeongguk’s breath each time he exhales, each time he breathes out instead of speaking. All the words he isn’t saying. And it’s exactly how you knew it would go, but it does nothing to tamp down the devastation in your chest.

You’d confessed your transgressions to Jimin and thought your silence to your ex-girlfriend was a gift, that it was sparing her the pain of what you’d done. Now you understand that someone’s silence can be the most vicious thing of all.

[ the last. ] Graduation looms. It’s the last winter break you’re spending at home.

Your therapist suspects you get your compartmentalism from your parents.

They don’t mention it. They see the stack of boxes and your bare bedroom walls and they don’t say a word about any of it. They watch you pack everything in your car and don’t offer to help. They process their grief silently, and when you can’t stand it anymore, you say, “I dated a woman my senior year of undergrad, you know.”

They don’t say anything to that, either, but it feels good to tell them. Feels a little like freedom and reclamation, like you can be who you are in front of others.

When you leave for good, you don’t want to repackage all those same skeletons.

So you meet Jimin for lunch and you take it in stride that everything is weird, that there’s nearly two years of silence to fill. You don’t ask for forgiveness and he doesn’t demand it of you, just asks if you’re doing better. “I’m doing the best I can,” you answer, and it’s human and honest enough that he accepts it with a warm smile.

Jeongguk is more difficult.

There’s no way to neatly box up that kind of baggage.

You’d intended to stop by his apartment to talk, tell him you aren’t coming back anymore. There’s nothing left here for you, you’d told him, and there was a flash of something. A there’s me, isn’t there? that had gone unsaid, destined for the same fate as a million other unspoken words between you.

Because there is him, but there’s also the way you’re desperately trying to claw back into something resembling normalcy. You’d lost yourself when you also lost Jeongguk, and you need to figure out who you are without him. You need to know who you are once you stop running and let your demons catch up with you. You need to hear what they have to say.

Maybe Jeongguk had said it best last year—“It’s not that easy. I’d do it if I could.”—because you’re nothing if not predictable and self-destructive.

You’re nothing if not naked and on your back beneath him, your fingers threaded through his hair as he rocks his hips into you, more tender than you deserve. His lips are ghosting along your skin and every press feels like a brand. Feels like he’s both making a mockery of you and declaring you ruined for anyone who might come after him. Feels like you’ll love him until you die.

(Some version of you must exist outside of Jeongguk’s grasp—outside of his orbit, his bed—but right now, as he twines your fingers together and pins them above your head, you can’t figure out who she might be.)

Eight months had been a long time to think of all the things you wanted to say, and four years is worse. Four years, and you still can’t bring yourself to ask him to try again, but there’s nothing after this, nothing to lose, so your voice is hoarse and raw when you say, “Jeongguk,” and he groans a little, nips at the column of your throat because he loves the way you say his name. “Jeongguk,” you repeat, because he senses the urgency, hears what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah, baby, say it. Whatever it is, tell me.”

He rolls his hips faster. Before, he would’ve tried to prolong the ending, but he’s hurtling towards it now. There’s nothing after this, you know, but you need the confirmation. You need to finally put all of this to rest. “I want to—” His cock strokes someplace that whites out your vision. “Fuck, want to—want you to come with me.”

He laughs, full of himself, probably smirking out the side of his mouth. “Keep squeezing me like that and I will soon.”

“No,” you insist, shocked at the conviction in your voice, “when I leave. Come with me.”

Everything slows. Jeongguk pulls back, moves his hands to cover himself, and there’s nothing but cold confusion in his absence. “What?”

“I didn’t ask you before. Last year. I just—I left it up to you, and you’re right, I didn’t ask what you wanted, but I didn’t tell you what I wanted, either. But I’m telling you now. I’m asking—”

There was never going to be anything after this.

Jeongguk’s silence says it all.

The way he pulls out and rolls you onto your stomach. The way he fucks as fast and as hard as he can. The way he used to love you openly and honestly and now holds whatever’s left close to his chest like it’s something to be ashamed of.

Someone’s silence can always be the most vicious thing of all.

Roll credits.

thank you so much for reading, and an additional thank you in advance if you decide to reblog my work. as always, my inbox is always open for any feedback! ♡

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic

678 notes · View notes

cressthebest · 14 days

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 12

chapter 22:

1. 😟😟 all james wants is for sirius to be there for james the way james ALWAYS was for sirius

2. 😟 james wished hodge happy birthday even though hodge died yesterday. i- i am not okay

3. “Regulus never fails to look up. Evan would be proud of him for that, he thinks.” 😧 that was vile to put in there

4. james has resorted to BEGGING for medicine from sirius and can’t understand why sirius won’t send any. this hurts so bad

5. nope. i’m done. i can’t read any more. james started looking forward to death cause he would be out of this arena and out of pain. jfc i’m done

6. anyways. i’m back cause i couldn’t stop reading.

7. REGULUS AND JAMES ARE REUNITED!!! THANK GOD!!! 😊

8. 😧 wait nevermind. james just mistook regulus for sirius. “James has never, not once in his life under any circumstances, mistaken Regulus for Sirius”

9. james is delulu from medicine and reg just found out that the plan has always been to get reg home. this hits like a motherfucking truck

10. james is high as a fucking kite, can’t figure out why “sirius” is being mean to him, cause he’s never been mean to him. and is also wondering why “sirius” is oddly attractive for being mean

11. it takes james half a chapter, and reg cutting his shirt for james to realize it’s not sirius. cause sirius has different scars. i love james sm 😭😭

12. “What was Sirius thinking? Drugging James? In the middle of the fucking hunger games? That might be the most idiotic thing Regulus has ever known his brother to do, and this is Sirius he's talking about, so that's saying a lot. Sirius once flipped a cigarette in the air and tried to catch it with his mouth while it was lit, and kept doing it until he could actually consistently manage it, no matter how much it burned him. Though, in fairness, he can still do that trick to this day.”

LMAO WHAT??? that’s so random and i love it

13. 😧 legit sobbing. reg says that james lost the spark in his eyes. and he’s the one person he expected to never lose his spark

14. reg reveals that they both can go home. james’ spark is back. i’m sobbing harder now. they’re so in love

15. i eat, breathe, and dream those author end notes. bizzarestars writes their end notes the way my brain processes the fic. <33

chapter 23:

1. starting the chapter off with pain, i see. losing vanity changed james. like. horribly changed him.

2. “What Regulus hates more than James is his suffering.” jfc he’s so emotionally constipated

3. james is sad and all reg can think is hmmmm i want him to start flirting with me again, because it meant he was happy bitch wtf

4. awww they’re cuddling and just got a package! my babies are gonna make it out!

5. reg realizes he has to put on a show, so he offers to feed james. and wants to gouge his eyeballs out for offering that. 😭😭😭😭

6. i’m dying from embarrassment but this is also so fucking funny. reg is like. let’s talk about our feelings. for each other. and james is just like *head tilt* ???

7. “"You weren't my first crush, James," Regulus whispers. "You were my first love."”

james didn’t just make reg feel good, he made reg feel and i am NOT okay.

8. “This whole time, Regulus has been steady on the fact that he wouldn't kiss James to save his own life, but he's apparently willing to do it to save James'.”

JFC why is he so emotionally constipated???

9. THEY KISS????? james is gonna be heartbroken when he realizes it was all an act

10. oh thank god james realized. at least it broke his heart now and not in two weeks

11. *squints* now reg has never wanted anything more than this kiss. girl. please. realize.

12. god, i’ve never read a kiss more beautifully and emotionally desperate written.

13. 😏 reg called him baby again!

14. oh god, maybe i’m just as bad as everyone in the hallow. maybe i’m just as bad as them. cause i enjoy their romance. i enjoy it so much. maybe i’m just as bad as the hallow for that. i- i think this every time i read the hunger games.

15. “James wants to sink his teeth into Regulus and leave the deep imprints of his teeth from one jutting hip bone to the other.” sometimes i forget that jegulus is a little unhinged in ways like this. and every time i’m reminded, I LOVE IT

16. “"You treat me like I'm stupid for daring to see good in people, but if there's no good in anyone, then what's the fucking point?"”

this entire section. this. this is what james is all about

17. 😟 authors note just told me i’m no better than a hallow. for my excitement over jegulus. and- yeah. i guess so. i’m so sorry y’all

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #fanfic #sirius black #sunseeker #starchaser #crimson rivers

47 notes · View notes

adoriels-tears-if · 7 days

Note

I love this wip and this is not a criticism to u as an author more a vent about the attitudes of the characters (even tho i completely understand why they have to behave the way they do around strangers, it's just frustrating from the pov of the mc) like, reading about a child whose own mother pretends not to be related to them in public is heartbreaking and I always have to act out and be a little brat when im playing as my mc bc like,, what kid wouldnt😭 it feels hypocritical for the MC's family to tell them that they have nothing to be ashamed of with regards to their heritage and then only ever act ashamed of them around strangers, and to then be surprised/confused when the MC has tantrums and meltdowns like jfc they are gonna grow up so traumatised😅 again, I understand its the society the characters live in and I think this is more a testament to ur ability to write complex nuanced characters than anything else. It just hurts my heart. I can't wait for the (even angstier) teen phase❤️

I totally understand what you're saying Anon! Don't you worry.

To be totally honest, it hurts my heart too. (Sometimes I get so depressed about Mc that I'm forced to let the story rest so I can feel better and come back to it. XD)

I only dream of one thing, that Mc can show how extraordinary half-bloods are. But there are still so many things Ash and Elianna have to plan before that, so many obstacles for Mc to overcome.

#Adoriel's Tears #Mc #half blood problems

22 notes · View notes

bringmefoxgloves · 8 months

Note

i want to get more into saw/saw blogs b4 X comes out - what r some of ur fave saw blogs

Hi! You caught me at a good time (one where I have energy) so let's see if I can pump this out. I am in no way an authority on the entire Saw fandom so I will only be talking about my little corner of the internet. Please forgive me, my beloved followers, mutuals, and other owners of posts I have loved in this very small fandom-because I may forget some of you. The brain fog sometimes gets the best of me and if I did a full complete list, it would be.... It would be so long. This is in no way in order of best or worst, and sometimes I just have no words for why I love a person's blog.

@turnipoddity - Oh, what an artist! Every single post I see, love it. So excited to see an artist acquiring the Saw brainrot.

@bloodcoveredgf - Luna! Also just all around funny & good posts in addition to the Saw insanities.

@dracofelin - Jay has such good writing, and will make you love the ship of Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm (coffinshipping).

@thefoulbeast - Simply put, Will's art makes me want to bite my own arm off. If you're interested in the video game Pathologic, his blog is worth a follow for that too.

@bathroomtrapped - I sometimes get the honor of previewing Larry's art mid-construction (because with all those colors and layers, it looks like building a house) and even half finished, it blows my socks off <3

@sawtrapz - Kaz, oh Kaz (!!!), Kaz gets my brain clicking about some of the rarepairs of this fandom and I will always spin your boygirl Adam in my head.

@cl0wnb0yyy - Will is just a great person in the fandom, also if you like Midnight Mass or NBC's Hannibal.

@ispyspookymansion - Kora looms large in the Saw fandom in my mind so it would be impossible to assemble this list without him.

@3razyswfangirl / @kiramillet - Kira's pixel art is amazing!!! Bunny <3

@tibby - Take a look through Tibby's saw meta. You won't be disappointed.

@allegedly-writer - Contrary to Jack's url, Jack can sure damn write! He just posted a fic and guess who it's for <3

@hansy-pansy-art - OUGH another amazing amazing artist. Also currently in a Red Dead Redemption moment, which I love.

@piddgeon - Speaking of RDR.... Mercury! Ah, just. (Chef's kiss) of a human being.

@samwis - Jami, who hears all my most insane horny thoughts who is such a mainstay in my corner of Saw fandom.

@romanromulus - Adam writes fics that will make you scream and cry into your pillow at midnight.

@tapeworrmart - Just. Ough. Art that I dream of one day hanging on my wall.

@vanilladella - a.m.'s art is my discord header. Enough said.

@carouselcometh - Remy is hilarious and also you need to read his series on Ao3.

@onehandkilling / @fatmasc - Shlomo... What do I say? Just go. Follow. Also threw in their fat fashion blog because YES!!!

@angel-trapped - Téa, you absolute legend. Origin of angelshipping (to me) (aka Lindsey Perez/Allison Kerry)

@sawtrapx - Liv, such a fun human being!!!

@starlightsailfish - Star's Saw Warrior Cats makes me dance in excitement.

@iinsawdious - Adrien is the best champion of the Adam & David (Saw 0.5) & Specs (Character from the Insidious franchise, also played by Leigh Whannell) are family hc. I love his enthusiasm!!

@adrianicsea - Adrian! Just. AH!!! Adrian's Sleeping with Ghosts series was perhaps my first introduction (outside of Adam romanromulus) to the sheer brilliance of Saw fandom writers.

@dodddraws - Dodd's art is.... I'm just at a loss for words, scrolling back through his blog. So much nsfw goodness.

@sawvhs - Rar's art is so so so iconic.

Okay I have to cut this list off here, jfc. There's others I should probably put on here but I'm getting tired and sweaty and my hands are hurting. Follow these people, check who they're reblogging from or who is reblogging them, go forth, prosper anon. Welcome to the Saw brainrot.

#wes says things back #jfc did i just do a follow forever in the year of our lord 2023? guess i did #if you do not follow me and i tagged you... i'm sorry for popping up in your notes.#just want to share your brilliance in the saw fandom out there

45 notes · View notes

throttlegainwell · 2 months

Text

The problem with being such a huge fan of Steve Rogers and Scott Summers at the same time is that Steve's unique status within the comics universe and the roles that he's often given (and Scott's position within his corner of the 616 universe) mean that, quite frequently when Steve shows up in a book with Scott, he's very often wrong. Like, on the wrong side of a conflict, expressing a wrong opinion, just generally behaving as an unreasonable impediment or a dickhead in the worst way that stretches the bounds of his character unflatteringly, at best, and is outright maliciously out of character, at worst.

He's very, very bad with anything mutant-related. Not all the time, but consistently. Mostly due to plot demands or a forced maintaining of the universe's status quo that you can't quite look at head-on--have to squint at it, kind of, and just not question it too hard. The problem is that his presence always rubs right up against the boundaries of that status quo in a really conspicuous and illogical way--you have to contrive reasons for him to not care about things that he would obviously care about, being who he is. He can never quite be himself because the whole thing would unravel. So you're left with these really unfortunate implications about why Steve Rogers doesn't seem to give a shit about the mutant plight, in really obvious and immediate material ways and very broad ideological ways, even though his hands are tied.

So I have to side against him and sit there like jfc Steve stfu why do the writers treat you this way. (I know the answer, of course. He's a convenient tool of authority, he's recognizable, and also most people don't get him, let alone know how to write him.) I'm embarrassed for him when he shows up in someone's book and behaves that way, even though I know it's for stupid reasons that aren't really representative of his character. Like, Steve, you're better than this. I love you. Get it together.

#steve rogers #scott summers #comics #btw i'll ship virtually anyone with anyone #but even i have trouble imagining a way i can make these two friends let alone make them bone #which is obviously a huge bummer for me #imagine that two blorbos living in one universe and i can't imagine them grabbing each other's dicks #that's sad for me #i'm a huge fan of scott summers like he is WAY UP THERE for me #but when it comes down to a 'who's right?' between scott and steve #i hate to say it but scott is almost always the winner #it's not steve's fault!#he's just so important as a figurehead that he gets maneuvered into these really shitty positions by the writers #it's a convenient but forced function of his character and it's cheap and i hate it

12 notes · View notes

hippolotamus · 7 months

Text

top 9 books 📚

tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz (who I constantly pest to write a book and will add to this list if they ever do 😘) @thewolvesof1998 @cowboy-buddie @your-catfish-friend @spotsandsocks Thank you loves 💖

I can say right now that these are in the moment picks. Books are far too special to narrow down to just 9.

Anthem by Ayn Rand

A short read about a society where people have careers and partners chosen for them. Everyone is addressed in collective terms and the word I is never used. It's been a long ass time, but I legit cried the first time I read it.

1984 by George Orwell

Another one that has fascinated me since the first time I read it, way back in the dark ages of high school. Dystopian society where Big Brother is always watching. The main character is lured into going against the grain only to ultimately be punished. That's a terrible excuse for a summary but here we are.

The Santaland Diaries by David Sedaris

Some satire and humor as the author details his time working as an elf during the Christmas season. If you don't wheeze and piss yourself laughing I really don't know what to tell you.

Psycho by Onley James

Book 2 of a MM series about 7 psychopath brothers. I love the series but August is my favorite.

Moth by Lily Mayne

Book 5 of a human/monster romance series. Moth is my very special baby. Look at him wrong and I'll maim you.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

jfc how do I even summarize this? IDEK... battles, romance, platonic love, soulmates. Just go read it and have yourself a good cry.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Dear gods what a fucking fabulous book. Chronicles the life of the (fictional) mysterious hollywood actress, Evelyn Hugo, with an absolutely insane twist at the end.

The Christmas Box Collection by Richard Paul Evans

Technically a trilogy but I can't separate them. This begins by telling the story of a young family who move in with an elderly widow. It then moves on to the details of who the widow was before, starting at the very beginning with how she met her husband, and the reason for the large marble angel statue on the property.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

One of my favorites from my youth. All about friendship and imagination and what happens when that gets ripped away. Again, a shit summary, but it's a fantastic read. I have absolutely considered an au about this one.

Bonus: When the Summer's Over by Anna Pollock

A m/f romance that's cute AF, written by one of my besties @walnuts-and-berries, with cover art by my beloved wife @lizzie-bennetdarcy. Minnesota farm gal meets city boy and is instantly disgusted. gasp can they overcome their differences and make it work?

no pressure tagging @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @buddierights @apothecarose @spotsandsocks @shortsighted-owl @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @jesuisici33 @lizzie-bennetdarcy and anyone else I normally tag (or don't) who wants to play 🥰

#tag games #top 9 books #book recs #hippo recommends #hippo rambles #edit to add art credit for when the summers over #cannot believe i forgot that

25 notes · View notes

depressopax · 3 months

Note

If I may? Headcanons of Mike with an s/o who is a soft dom like him. I wanna spoil that old man and make him feel loved ok. Please and thank you<3.

Thanks for the request!! I LOVE THIS IDEA <3 Jfc I wanna make this man feel loved rn 😭❤

Being Mike Ehrmantrauts soft dom - Headcanons

Fandom - Breaking Bad/Better call Saul

Pairing: Mike Ehrmantraut x gn!reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content. Sub!Mike + dom!reader, degradation, praise kink, mentions of choking etc. (Lmk if I missed something) Words: 900 Summary: Being a soft dom for Mike would include… English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 AO3 link

Just like you, Mike likes being in charge

In bed, he wants to dom and be on top of you.

He feels the most comfortable when he has control of a situation

It’s probably because of past as an ex-cop, and the work he does for Gus -

He feels like he always needs to be in control of whatever situation he’s in, and act a certain way. Kinda scared to “let down his guard”

He’s been through a lot and often feels like he has no control over life - but in bed, he can easily dominate his partner and regain that feeling.

When you told Mike you wanted to dominate him, he just laughed.

…Until he realized you were being serious.

“No.”“But… Mike!”“No.”“Just once?”“No.”

He’s not the one to give up his power so easily.

He has a rough exterior, even in bed.

He wouldn’t tell you so, but he does find the thought of being dominated appealing.

Somehow, you manage to make him agree - and switch it up a little bit.

“Only once. Never again”…Or so he says, before realizing how much he likes being under your control.

The feeling of having you on top whilst fucking him was new to him, and such an amazing feeling.

He liked the way he could just rest back and have someone take care of him.

He’d find it “humiliating” at first, to be slutted out by his partner

But then realized how much he liked it

…The humiliating feeling only made it more enjoyable, tbh.

Though he appreciates you being a soft dom, he doesn’t mind you being rough with him.

Letting you dominate him made him realize a few things.

For example: - Mike enjoys when you degrade him. Call him a “needy bitch”, he’ll go feral. - He likes challenging your authority over him, acting like a dom, even when he’s submissive under you, especially when you punish him for having an attitude. - Speaking of punishments? Mike likes them. He even goes as far as testing your limits, until you punish him for whatever he did.

Just remember to praise him, too.

He’s almost embarrassed by how much it turns him on to have you calling him “good boy”

Homeboi def has both a praising- AND degradation kink.

Seeing you in charge is hot.

He’s used to having you being his submissive and this new side excites him.

It’s a turn on to have you bossing him around and having you being soft and loving, or rough and dominant.

He doesn’t mind you using toys on him, if you’re into that.

But he doesn’t really like pain inflicted.

Some light choking, slapping, spanking etc… You name it, is ok to him (only if he’s the one receiving it), if he gets some good aftercare and rewards of course.

After a long rough day at work, he just wants to come home and have you do him until he’s too exhausted to think.

You jokingly call him “Needy slut” when he practically begs you to do him, but little did you know he actually is. And he’s not ashamed of it ;)

When you dom him, he’d probably be quiet at first, not wanting to moan too much

But you pretty much demanded him to be loud lmao

Mike will be moaning, cussing and whimpering for you, especially if you overstimulate or edge him.

Just edge him and he’ll whimper ;)

He is very obedient, well, most of the time at least.

He does like being “bratty” and disobeying your orders, only to make you mad.

But in most cases, he obeys.

“Kneel” is all you have to say, and then watch him drop to his knees, crawling up to you. - Nah but imagine sitting on the couch with your legs spread - Mike kneeling between them, looking up at you as he caresses your legs - Him looking up at you with admiration, waiting for orders from you - And then watching him go down on you, working passionately to please you… - Probably would come undone just from going down on you. - OGMFMKNGSFNGF-

Of course, he still wants some “attention” too, which you give him - …But he’ll have to beg for it - He loves receiving heads from you, and knowing that you like satisfying him. - Nah but fr, you of course take care of his needs too.

You’d have a safeword for him to use, but he hasn’t used it yet.

There’s something satisfying with seeing you be cruel and rough in bed

Seeing your rough exterior boyfriend be all soft and submissive in bed is a very pleasant sight.

Though you said it was a “one-time thing”, It stays that way.

Mike going from being dominant and cold in the bedroom - to being a whimpering mess under your control.

He’s yours to use, however you please…

Because once comfortable with being a sub, he has no intentions of doing things differently, unless you tell him to, of course…

He loves foreplay and aftercare as much as he likes the main event - where you fuck him up.

…But most of all, he’s a slut for some good aftercare.

Which you are more than happy to give him.

Just cuddling up to him, whispering praise and making him feel appreciated and loved <33

You love praising him afterwards and show mow much he means to you.

Because, the dom-side away - you love him dearly and he deserve love.

You make sure he’s ok.

“I hope I didn’t break your hip or something, old man” “...Funny.”“You know I love you”“I love you too…”(I’m sorry 😭💀)

Mike being very affectionate towards you too

You’re his dom after all, and he just wants to make you proud, happy and be your good boy ;)

Idk how I feel about this one lolol but I hope you enjoyed <3

11 notes · View notes

chronurgy · 2 months

Note

4 and 6 for the weird writer asks

Describe your writing, but exclusively in terms of how it would taste and feel to eat it.

Chewy, almost too chewy, like one of those pieces of food where you start chewing it and you're like okay, I got this, but you just keep chewing and it keeps not going anywhere and your jaw is starting to get a little tired and you're like jfc why is this thing so chewy am I ever going to get it down? That, probably.

Name three writing inspirations: one dead published author, one living published author, and one fanficcer/fellow amateur writer.

So first, upon reading this question the name of every author I had ever heard of instantly fled my brain. We'll see how this goes.

Dead published author: Jane Austin, for her examinations of the way people's fears and assumptions can blind them to reality, as well as the unrelenting focus on characters' thoughts and lack of knowledge beyond their own perspective

Living published author: this is probably a sin, but GRRM. His books are long and meandering and spend a lot of time focusing on the POV characters' internal and external struggles. The whole "the human heart in conflict with itself thing". The way the narration is influenced by the character we're spending our time with. ASOIAF undeniably influenced my style lol, I love third person limited with a focus on internal conflict. It didn't make me want to write that way but it definitely helped elucidate for me why I wanted to write that way

Fanficcer: I'll give you a two for one on this one - @rowanisawriter for their impeccable vibes and grasp of how to say something without saying it and SaltCore on Ao3 (who I think has a tumblr username that I just can't remember right now) for their excellent descriptions of the way smart people can excuse and justify pretty much anything (Essek in The Mind and the Malady is a great example) and their general commitment to fantastic angst

#Thanks for the ask that was a lot of fun!

4 notes · View notes

melis-writes · 10 months

Note

Omfg Lily plagiarized your work 🤬🤬🤬🤬

Unfortunately, yeah. That was a whole thing. I was perhaps less than 15 chapters in writing Moth to Flame when it happened. Please don't harass/send that blog any hate in any way, shape or form; I don't condone that or want it. I don't even know if they're active nor do I honestly care about that, but I have to admit, it's pretty fucking disgusting to have people "like" your fics and writing and then plagiarize your work. There's a difference between being inspired by someone's work and then stealing almost everything from it and calling it your own.

The Godfather fandom in late 2021 was a real treat. It's insane to believe I got anon hate/death threats for writing a Michael Corleone x Reader fic lmao. I never had a "monopoly" on Michael fics but I guess the overwhelming popularity of Moth to Flame and attention my blog was getting sparked some insecurities because what else could that be...? 😐 All I wanted to do was interact with people in the fandom after having not been in one since 2014 and share my writing but instead I walked into a cesspool of toxicity and jealousy. That's all I can call it because I don't know wtf these people were on. Still to this day, the same people who sent me anon hate and made me feel unwanted in the fandom make secondary blogs just to follow me and secretly read/interact my fics as if I don't know. 💀💀 Sorry not sorry, but the bullying and harassment in fandoms over the stupidest fucking shit/random opinions and fics is pathetic, disgusting, and needs to stop.

I also never claimed to be "The Godfather authority" or some special shit either, I'm just overanalyzing my hyperfixation and constantly posting about it. 😂 Nowadays I see lots of new people joining our small fandom and just want them to have fun and feel welcomed instead of discovering drama over a 50+ year old film. 🥰 I have a love/hate relationship with The Godfather fandom because I've seen it's nasty side and the people who associated with it that reveled and had fun in spam sending vile, nasty shit to blogs (two of my mutuals deactivated due to this bullying, several others just outright left the fandom).

I literally got a message saying if I kept writing Moth to Flame that it would polarize the fandom, that by accepting/entertaining compliments over my fics/writing I was discreding other writers, and that I would cause people to leave and stop reading other people's fics. 💀 Never saw that much delusion in a fandom before jfc. I've almost been writing fics for three years in The Godfather fandom now and I promise you neither me nor my fics are going anywhere. 🤭❤️ No matter what fandom I write for, I'm here for good so anyone who doesn't like my fics/work can kindly continue scrolling away/don't interact with me or just sit and cry about it because I'm gonna keep writing lol. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#melly talks

10 notes · View notes

slightecho · 21 days

Text

20 Questions For Fic Writers

I got tagged by @daydreams-and-honeybees and @halcyonhue (it won’t let me tag you and idk why! 😭)

This is gonna be very interesting and silly bc I have written much and posted little!! 🤣

TAGGING: @silvvergears if you havent done this before and…… actually idk who among my fic writing friends has or hasn’t done this one bc I’ve seen it going around a few times, so if you are a fic writer and want to do it, i’m tagging you!! 😆

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

LMFAO only 4

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

481,043 words jfc 😨

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I used to dabble in writing voltron fic years ago, and that makes up the majority of works on my ao3 but currently writing for The Owl House and I’m hoping to outnumber the Voltron fics on my account with other fandoms 😎

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lmao uhhhh since I only have 4 published, I’m just gonna say the top two tbh 😅😅😅

Ashes takes the number one, with Crowd of Thousands as my second most kudos on a fic

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes!! I love responding to comments! I want to discuss things with people reading my fics and (especially in the case of Ashes), I wanna see what my readers theories are on what’s going to happen. It’s one of my favorite parts of having people who read what I write!!

If you’ve ever left me a comment and I haven’t responded, don’t be discouraged. Sometimes I just don’t know what to say beyond a giant thanks for reading. 😅 And sometimes I won’t reply if my last reply was a teaser

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhh so if I had finished it, it WOULD have been the untitled Bungo Stray Dogs Heathers AU fic I got like 75% of the way done writing and then abandoned.

But other than that I don’t have any with an angsty ending—oh wait no ¡Viva La Gloria! is technically a published fic in my ao3 isn’t it?

Yeah it’s ¡Viva La Gloria! then lmao

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Crowd of Thousands currently.

Ashes by the time it’s done.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Haven’t yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Pls don’t send me hate I’ll cry

Criticism and critique are fine. Just don’t be mean to meeeee pls 😊

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have.

Nothing published anywhere.

I’m not very good at it

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really. I don’t really read them either tbh

I’m kind of the kid who doesn’t want their foods to touch on their plate when it comes to entire fandoms in fics it’s just not my thing

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not yet, or at least not to my knowledge.

Knocking on wood now

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Somewhat?

The planned Elowyn piece I have is something my girlfriend and I came up with together. So I have co-authored concepts

The first two or three chapter of Ashes, besides the prologue, there was a LOT taken from the discord RP that I’d originally come up with the plot of Ashes for. I had permission from that friend to use them. And I heavily, HEAVILY took out and then rewrote their portions (namely the Raine parts of the chapters “Moving Day” and “Hexside” bc the rest at the time were my characters). Their original writing has been scrubbed and a lot of Raine’s character and story arc has transformed into something else entirely. Pretty much all that remains is that they were the one who came up with the idea that Raine was Manny’s sibling. If they read it, they could probably still see the bones of what they wrote if they squint. But by the time Luz hits Eda with the door in “Hexside,” they’d already moved on from the rp. So it was very easy to rewrite around their parts and just reuse the posts I that I had written for those chapters.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

That’s too hard a question how dare you

I like too many ships

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh jeez.

Either the untitled Bungo Stray Dogs Heathers AU that was never posted anywhere, or The First Golden Guard.

Pretty much The First Golden Guard i have just notes scribbled out of the plot, what I think the first chapter is, and some various bits of dialogue from different moments in the fic. But then I started writing Ashes and that took over my life, and now I really want to write The Caleb Files, and the bonus stuff that got cut from Ashes. Plus the Elowyn fic. so I just don’t know if it will ever get written now

16. What are your writing strengths?

Description and voice.

I really love getting a little flowery when describing action or setting while writing. And in the case of setting in particular, I think I have a more natural ability.

I also really strive to make sure each character’s own unique way of talking comes through in their dialogue. Maybe not always when the narration makes the reader privy to their thoughts and emotions, but at the very least, their dialogue does.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Bro just cannot stop yapping!!

I actually genuinely do believe my greatest weakness is my inability to shut up sometimes. I’m sure if I go back and reread Ashes from the beginning, I’ve said the same shit multiple times.

Also sometimes I just get repetitive!! And I use certain colloquialisms like “just,” “after all,” and “as if” FAR too often.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

sigh.

I am a latinx person who lived through the VLD fandom… I have a LOT of opinions… and I have seen some bad Spanish dialogue written by non-Spanish speakers… the kind of shit that stands out to even me, when I have little verbal fluency.

Here’s the thing: I am not AGAINST anyone writing another language of dialogue into their fics. I actually do think it’s a good thing.

HOWEVER!!!

If you are a person who only speaks one language—if you’re a person who kind of doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I say ‘code switching’ or only understands the basic definition of code switching—I am BEGGING you to try and have someone with more experience in that language than you to proofread those dialogue sections.

The amount of times I’ve seen weird moments where the code switching didn’t make logical or emotional sense for the character beyond the author’s “I want to include Spanish here” is innumerable. And that’s not to say code switching needs to have a deep, profound reason all the time—sometimes code switching happens bc there’s no word or phrase in one language that directly translates from the concept or emotion you know how to describe in another! But from what I’ve found, there are a lot of people who understand code switching in concept (and that it’s important for representation) but not in practice bc they simply have no firsthand experience with it. I don’t blame them, though! It’s a hard thing to understand on description alone! Unless you’ve experienced it before, I don’t think it’s something you can fully comprehend. And it can stand out. You can even think you’ve done it right on technicality, but it falls flat.

A tiktok in how to spot AI images I once saw said “AI understands that a mirror, or stairs, or chair legs have to be there there, but it doesn’t understand why it functionally exists or what purpose it serves” and therefore it makes mistakes by adding twelve stairs on the right and fourteen on the left, or five legs on two chairs that are somehow sharing them, or mirrors won’t show the correct items reflected back. I’ve seen many well-meaning fic writers (and published authors!!!) do the exact same thing with language switching. They understand that it should be there, but not functionally why.

Also a basic “don’t rely on google translate” here….. but also a less basic one: different cultures of a shared language are gonna have different turns of phrase and different slang. I’ve also seen a lot of fics that have Lance (a Cuban character) using Mexican slang or words. That’s always awkward.

There’s just a lot. I could go on about this forever but I think I pretty much covered it all.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ever?! Lmfao Harry Potter when I was a young teen. I didn’t understand what I was doing at all and only did it because my older friend who knew I liked writing my original stories at the time said that I should try writing fic.

I didn’t even have a plot or anything. I just genuinely thiugh fanfic was writing your little self insert OCs and perpetually playing with them in a dollhouse made of your favorite thing 🤡🤡🤡

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Wholly and completely, without a shadow of a doubt

Ashes

It’s genuinely the first fic I’ve ever written where I have actually wondered if I was better off writing it as an original story and going the publishing route. Unfortunately for future me and fortunately for you all, I’m way too attached to the characters as their original names and incarnations to do that 🤣

It’s also the first fic I’ve ever written where I went into it already knowing every piece of the puzzle and having all the clues laid out to perfectly set them up ahead of time. I’m very proud of that and I long for the day where someone rereads Ashes after it’s over and discovers the tiny things in the extremely early chapters that were hints towards the end.

#toh ashes au #echo writes #echo tags #20 questions #tag game

5 notes · View notes

netherfeildren · 8 months

Note

i just recently came across your work and i have genuinely digested all of it at an alarming rate because holy shit your writing is……. so beautiful?! jfc i’m just in awe my god?! do you have any literature recs/authors you get inspired by? i would love to read literally anything that helped to shape your writing because wow

hello and welcome and thank you so much !!!! I'm so glad to have you here, and it makes me so happy to know you've enjoyed the stories so far! I have a list of book recs here and general sources of inspiration / likes here

also just random, but I started the book little rabbit by alyssa songsiridej today as I've heard great things about it and I'm only a short way in but I'm enjoying it so far :)

#vic replies

8 notes · View notes

rush-the-stars · 1 year

Note

idk what kinds horror in a/b/o you mean, but i immediately thought about the subtle horror in this reylo fic called "Until You" by ever-so-reylo on ao3 (sorry if you dont like reylo. i dont. but i recognize reylo authors can be BEASTS and i just use cognitive dissonance if i need it) where it's like.. horror in the sense of how society limits and treats omegas and it's all very normalized. like the fic describes a marriage pathway, alarms on doors, omegas cant be present to hear the results of their own doctor appointment, how not getting pregnant is reason for annulment, and so on, and it's just so wildly subtle in how horrific itd be to live like this and i think the scariest part is, in parts of this world rn, there are places where women are treated very similarly to this. it's a one-shot and not super long, and Kylo/Ben/whoever isnt a dickbag or anything, he treats Rey well, and the author is good about making a distinction between "this is how it is here" and "that doesnt mean its good or ideal or warranted" which i think just adds to the horror kinda sorta, i dunno, i could see you having fun writing about a similar kinda world

regardless, id love to hear more about how youd wanna add further horror to a/b/o, bc what i was talking about was Handmaid's Tale-adjacent (not that i like Handmaid's Tale bc the author's a fucking terf and also, m'am, that IS how the world is like for many woc in various parts of the world, it isnt "even more horrifying" having it happen to white women too jfc idk if it counts as "apocalyptic" if its happening here and now and no one seems to care tho; but you get what i mean when i name-drop it however. anyway. i digress) and im curious if you mean in a monster-fucker way or sex pollen way or what, i find the concept of a/b/o + horror fascinating so, again, id LOVE to hear more pls ♡

firstly anon thank you for coming into my inbox and taking the time to share all this with me!! it is greatly appreciated!!

now to get into this!! i’m gonna put this under a cut w some warnings just in case!!

cw: sexism, mentions of violence against women/feminist horror, reylo (LMAO SORRY), a/b/o, uh romantic cannibalism, blood

i am so sorry anon i detest reylo lol. and sorry if anyone follows me and likes them </3

also i think this is very fascinating that i mentioned horror and your mind jumped to what is essentially feminist horror! not a bad thing—just something observed!!

i personally read a lot of horror outside of fanfiction and i read a lot of feminist horror specifically. or i see or have been apart of plays/theater works/etc. that feature feminist/gender horror in various ways. i write short stories that are not fanfic about this topic as well, so with fanfic, i tend to avoid this a great deal! it’s an incredibly heavy topic and for a whole year last year, i had surrounded myself in it (and acted in shows where stage violence was enacted on me by men, acted in roles where i was often in distress because of male characters, acted in emotionally straining and difficult scenes) and realized i was actually…very drained. and learned what i liked to see in these stories and what i thought was needless violence against women reiterated again and again as torture porn of some kind. but long story short, fanfic was a reprieve of that for me!!

(i know you’re thinking—but cielo! you seem to love yandere content! and you are right! but i think all my yan content i enjoy is seeped in a warped love rather than a gendered violence. not that both can’t exist. it’s sticky.)

more than that, i am also interested in a/b/o that breaks gender constructs and dynamics in ways and is not just an afab omega enduring societal and personal violence!

the horror i was mentioning more i think had to do with body horror, possession (as in, almost…demonic. spiritual.), etc.! romance as a horror. (“but the horror? the horror was for love”)

blood lust being tied to heats/ruts. an omega, feverish and in heat, slick with blood and wild eyed. some romantic cannibalism with the way a bite is for claiming. it’s vampiric. it’s a devouring.

it’s a conjoining. a possession. two souls being forcibly twisted together. the horror of having only one true mate that you cannot choose. that is, for better or for worse, only yours. the horror of not just being yourself anymore, but someone else and vice versa. your uncontrollable “other half”.

sublime heats/ruts where you cannot tell what is real or not, shaky snapshots of mind melting ache and pain, only relieved by one person. hallucinations or ailments that come from deeply lonely and isolated omegas and alphas. nightmares when it reaches a fever pitch.

omegas with needle sharp teeth and so much hunger that need to feed and take relentlessly from alphas. omegas and alphas with eyes that glow in the dark and watch too keenly.

rituals where heats/ruts are watched, the horror of bareness and vulnerability. the horror of being an animal in a human skin. of your own desire or pleasure.

also just the horror of being dependent on someone. of needing someone so greatly you’ll be sick with it. the horror of being powerless to their love. the horror of their power over you. or yours over them.

the twisted care. i am interested in strange/more uncommon dynamics; alphas who are nurturing and motherly in awful ways. who hand feed and coddle and smother. omegas who are possessive and violent towards other alphas or omegas.

i just think there is A LOT that could be played with. thought of. messed around with.

i also think we don’t see enough historical au with a/b/o….i’m thinking also gothic-style. western man vs. nature. cowboy a/b/o…victorian…ancient civilization….etc.

anyways, i hope you don’t take this as me like scolding you or hating on what you’ve said in any way—defs not that!! i just had a different sort of horror in mind!! like i said, fanfic for me is all about romance at its core! it’s a reprieve and escape from the work and art that often is very serious and heavy (whether feminist/gender horror, capitalist horror, etc. etc.) that i usually spend my time creating or apart of in my day to day life! it’s deeply important work to me, just not something i wanna do here really!!

#anon thank you for your thoughts!!!#i am so sorry i hate reylo a great deal </3 #i just dislike kylo ren a lot sorry sorry sorry #star wars is a whole other can of worms i CANNOT open #ANYWAYS!#sorry this got rambly and long!!#i can also elaborate or answer other questions i’m not scared of a healthy back and forth #just my thoughts on it all!#cielo chats!#cielo rambles!

13 notes · View notes

malewifemanhunter · 10 months

Text

(tag game i found bc i kinda miss them~)

15 questions for 15 mutuals

were you named after anyone?

one name is an old romanian name, and the other is supposed to mean "god is with us" in old hebrew lol

do you have kids?

god no shgashdgas

do you use sarcasm a lot?

i do, and it's real what they say, that men often can't tell when women joke bc jfc the number of times i had to explain to a dude that i was joking sfaghsd

what's the first thing you notice about people?

if it's just passing on the street, then clothes, bc more often than not, if they're dressed wacky or cool or idk, interesting, they're queer. and if it's someone i'm meeting then i guess their vibe, voice, like i'm trying to figure out if they like me or not lol

what's your eye color?

green

scary movies or happy endings?

happy ending all the ways. i'm a hurt/comfort kinda gal, and if the comfort is missing, my whole week is ruined

any special talents?

idk is creativity a talent? i think i'm pretty creative hgsdhagjsd

what are your hobbies?

i love drawing and writing, it's so fun to make old men yaoi art. also, i'm trying to get back into reading, i used to read so fucking much (i mean physical books, i read fanfiction on the daily sdagshdaghsd)

have any pets?

no but i want a cat so fucking bad

what sports do you play/have you played?

swimming. god i love swimming. it started with that swimming anime, Free!! but it's really so fun. plus i'm always faster than my brother and that's really fun bc he works out and it taller than me too

how tall are you?

175~ (5.7 for my americans gashdgas)

favorite subject in school?

i would say art, but we never really did that class. and the romanian class, i love chatting abt old authors and that kinda shit. philosophy too now that i think about it, it was really interesting

dream job?

i don't dream of labor <3

OK ok ok so if i tag u, you don't gotta participate of course, and if i don't tag you please feel free to still do it <;3 @officialbillhader @stglennfucker @headgehug @kod-lyoko @r0nnietherat @thetomboyeffect @ratcoffin69 @number-one-hog-hater @aanteater-nose @emodennis @nightcrawlerzincorporated uhhh idk i'm sure there's more ppl but i can't think of more usernames sorry my brain is fried hgshgashgdasdashgd

10 notes · View notes

magpiefngrl · 1 year

Text

2022 Book Review

so the first thing I noticed, looking back at what I read this year, is that I haven't read any books that blew me away (with one exception, see below). Unlike 2021 (see last year's posts here and a short one here) when I read books that left me with my jaw on the floor. The other thing I noticed is that in 2022 I went for a lot of rereads. I'm a big re-reader, if I love something I want to expose myself to it as often as I can, but this year I reread way more than I normally do. Then again, I've had a super busy summer and some pretty tough months following that, so it's not so surprising I sought out familiarity and comfort.

Total books read: (if I finish current read) 82 81

Books that stood out in 2022 and other musings:

I. The Queen's Thief series (you'll also see me refer to it as The Thief). Prob my most enjoyable read of the year. Two of the six books thrilled me in a way I hadn't felt in yonks and the other four were pretty good too. Also: A. I'm proud of starting and finishing a series in the same year, it doesn't always happen. B. jfc I have a new blorbo I'd die for.

II. The Wimsey books. I started going through them chronologically and read all of them (bar one, I think). I'm pleased that I started the series and finished it--like I said above, it doesn't often happen, esp in recent years. These are murder mysteries featuring a Duke's younger brother as the amateur sleuth. The mysteries aren't Agatha Christie level of competence (I figured out several murderers before the reveal and I'm not even particularly good at this), nor are all the novels equally good, but Sayer's witty prose was a true joy and her dialogue is a masterpiece.

III. Other top books of the year:

Siren Queen (queer SFF), Black Sun (native American inspired SFF), The Atlas Six (dark academia SFF), How to Bang a Billionaire (contemporary m/m romance), The Goldfinch (contemporary literary), Hogfather (fantasy, humour), and Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (historical fantasy, am at 70% and really loving it).

IV. I'm always excited to see fanfic authors moving on to original fic and I try to support those authors when I can. I've now created a shelf on my GoodReads so I can keep track. This year I read A Restless Truth, the sequel to Marvellous Light by Freya Marske, which was tremendously engaging, and I also read the self-published duology Magpie Ballads (Elegy is the first novel's title) by Vale Aida (only on Amazon atm). This author is superb, I truly love their writing style and how confidently they handle their craft (description, dialogue, narration etc). I have Thoughts TM on plot and story, but overall a very strong debut.

V. The exception (mentioned above): Lymond. What else. I finished Pawn in Frankincense in January and it destroyed me. Absolutely left me in a puddle weeping on the floor. I'd stalled in the book (and series) halfway through for years now. Each 1st Jan I'd be like "...and I need to finish the Lymond books this year!!!!" and it never happened--but then, in 2022, it (almost) did. I also read The Ringed Castle in autumn and am one third in Checkmate. Progress! (I had high hopes of finishing CM before NY but alas. Still trying to finish another long book.) Anyway, Pawn in Frankincense is the novel that blew me away in 2022.

VI. The new thing of the year: receiving daily-ish emails in my inbox with chapters from a classic book. I didn't go for Dracula as I read it some years ago but I signed up for Dangerous Liaisons. I was familiar with the plot, having watched the amazing adaptation (and the other, less than amazing one), but I still enjoyed the book a great deal. Receiving the letters in my inbox was a new and fun experience.

VII. Disappointments! Let's have some of those. The Glass Hotel: found it bleak and dull; DNF'ed it but I might return to it when I've got the energy for a slow story. Wilder Girls: not quite a disappointment but it could've done a lot more with that unique premise. Time Is A Mother (poetry collection): sacrilegious perhaps, but Vuong's Night Sky with Exit Wounds is unparalleled and this one suffers in comparison. Alix E Harrow has turned out to be a hit-or-miss author for me after all. Although I loved the first installment of her fairytale verse, I found A Mirror Mended lacked the depth of the first novella. Good but not memorable. And finally Nghi Vo's Into the Riverlands, the third novella of her Singing Hills Cycle, was OK. A decent read but nothing more.

VIII. I don't read non-fiction at all, it's really not my thing, unless it's books on the writing craft. I used to seek them out avidly, but not anymore. After going through a couple dozen of these books, you realise they all start sounding alike. That being said, writing craft books can be motivating during times of block and often you might find a few gems of advice that can be very inspiring. This year I only read one such book (Writing 21st Century Fiction by D. Maas), which was nothing ground-breaking but included a few exercises that I'm eager to try.

What were your fave reads of 2022? Let me know or tag me, I'm very curious about the books people love.

#books #2022 books #long post #book recs

22 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

magaluftickets-blog

Magaluf Tickets

fearofrectangles

dependent, undisciplined, and sleeping late

palikaukau

Untitled

firstshowatseven

First show at seven

ruknipurke-blog

Test Country