#Yet another thing making me insecure about my art

[searchingforakeythatdoesntexist]

DAY 13 - «On Thin Ice» Good Omens AU - Triptych Tribute for @blairamok

Part 1/3: "Falling Angel" Aziraphale

Please, listen to this

Change everything you are

And everything you were

Your number has been called

Fights and battles have begun

Revenge will surely come

Your hard times are ahead

Don't let yourself down

Don't let yourself go

Your last chance has arrived

Best, you've got to be the best

You've got to change the world

And use this chance to be heard

Your time is now

Falling Angel, your time is now!

(yes I know this Muse song has another sense in the On Thin Ice universe - for Crowley. Well, our Fallen Serpent will show us what IS a true Survival, tomorrow. ;-)

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Personal challenge: a simple sketch each day

Goal: forcing me to keep things simple - inking, shading, just a few sashes of colour

Improvement pursued: to get the movement, the emotion, finding how to add depth, learning how to leave things barely finished

Max time allowed: 2 hours, as usual for my Daily Challenges. Well, this is a very special Tribute for me, and I was on a three-days break. So I didn’t really set a timer for the « On Thin Ice » sketches. Plus, I drew them quite in the same time and on the same file to be sure Crowley and Aziraphale would match. I guess I spent more or less 3 hours on the lineart for each one of them (the clothes and the figures needed a lot of time), plus 1h30-2h on the colouring/shading for each one.

Be aware that in my first sketches for this project, Crowley and Aziraphale were supposed to train on the same ice rink, and I dearly wanted Crowley to be watching Aziraphale, and Aziraphale was supposed to glance back to him. I had to give up on this idea later – because the figure I chose for Aziraphale definitely couldn’t allow such a shared glance. (but, hello, it will be a triptyque ! So, guess what? About the third part… :-p)

About Aziraphale, as my « Falling Angel ».

« On Thin Ice » author, @blairamok, describes the Hydroplane ice skating figure as very representative of Aziraphale, and the drawing reference pictures were numerous enough to get some solid inspiration. It’s a complex skating figure. I have watched some ice skating tutorials on YouTube – because I wanted the movement of the clothes and hair to be accurate and, if I understand everything properly, even a slight alteration in the position of the arms can make you fall. Such perfection ! That IS the right move for Aziraphale !

I told sooner on my Gymnast !AU challenge that I appreciated drawing Aziraphale with realistic curves more and more each day – even if it still triggers me sometimes about my own shaming roundnesses. I realised my way of doing art – and my mind too, maybe - was evolving when I got back to check references in the amazing Blair artworks (link AO3). A few months ago, I felt insecure watching Blair’s Aziraphale, which seemed to me too much plump and very soft – not a « good sportive look », I thought then. But now I like him more and more, so maybe my way of thinking is changing, and I think this is for the very best.

My Aziraphale is performing a difficult figure, so he is using all his muscles into maintaining his balance. He seems so statuesque, so powerful, yet very focused and oblivious to the world around him, with his eyes shut. That is why he couldn’t share a glance with my Crowley. T.T

.

Maybe this is my way to guess Aziraphale’s behavior in the so-awaited « On Thin Ice »  next chapters. Focused on his own training, trying to ignore Crowley’s sassyness but still secretly impressed by his partner’s skills. Because they share the same love for Ice Skating, even if they don’t show it in the same way.

Blair, if you ever read this, thank you. For your artworks, for making us dream about a wonderful story that still remains to be told.

Thank you for « On Thin Ice », for your so-kind message last week, and for everything else.

I have faith. I’ll wait for your story. But even if it doesn’t exist yet, I am already dreaming about it, and this is priceless.

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#on thin ice #blairamok #I am so happy about it! #good omens #good omens fanart #Aziraphale #Crowley #aziracrow #art #my art #ineffable husbands #David tennant #Michael Sheen #ElenPersonnalChallenge #ElenthyaAndGoodOmens #Ineffable Feathers #good omens au #Ineffable lovers #Ineffable Ice Skaters #ElenthyaGallery

[twistedroseytoesy]

I really love your mere mc headcanons that got me thinking.

What about the mere mc being a blu whale. the oceans gently giants if I was correct blu whales don't eat octopus or eal but mostly krill.

How tall would they be in human form though that I don't know.

I got inspired by this art.

OOOOO! yea! Gentle giants are my JAM! thank you for this beautiful idea! I'm going to just share how the octavinelle fellas react to you as this mer, but if you wanted other characters please feel free to send in another ask!

Also, a slight warning that you are referenced to have a large and plush body form, in case it makes any of you upset at that.

Description

Honestly, the picture provided is a beautiful and perfect blue whale mer. With the white underbelly and the dark skin contrast. The small barnacles and other tiny creatures happily living on the side or back of the whale. Would be about 70 ft tall from head to tail. The average person is about the size of a small action figure to you. You mostly feed on small schools of fish and krill. You do have to surface for air every 20 minutes or so.

Your human form is very tall and fairly soft. A slightly more rounded body type but still very healthy. about 8ft. (sorry anyone who prefers cm). You have deep blue hair with small white speckles that resemble barnacles. you also have many similar markings along your face and shoulders, like freckles! your teeth are practically the opposite of the eel twins' shark-like teeth. you have very flat and large teeth. Many stay away from you due to your large height and many small incidents when someone tried to fight you and you just batted them 20-40ft away with one backhanded smack. You're incredibly strong but never use your full strength.

Octavinelle

Azul: Oh no not another tall one... When he noticed how often you bump your head on things hell offer a contract to make it so you can walk comfortably around the school. Aka take some of your impressive height away. You are one of his best customers due to just how much you order and eat at the lounge, kinda a nightmare for ordering stuff but your happy face at getting to eat 20 lbs of small fish is worth it. Tried to hire you as a bouncer since you could easily carry and kick people out if they were causing trouble. Finds your fairly relaxed and kind personality nice. He knew right away that you were a mer, the blue hair and the markings and barnical-like spots were a dead giveaway.

When you invited him to swim with you, he was rather shy about being in his mer form, but he knew you would be nice to him, and probably too big to notice his insecurities due to his weight in that form. Was a bit floored at just how BIG you were, he knew blue whales were big but you were huge! Despite your giant size, you were very careful and kind, gently holding his 10ft long frame in your hands like one would with a baby kitten. He practically melted into your warm embrace and shyly asked if you could go swimming again. You do wonders for his self-confidence. Especially knowing you would defend and protect him from others and his own harsh thoughts. His favorite memory is when you needed to go for air one night and you brought him with you to look at the galaxy sparkling above you both.

Jade: Finds Azul's and Floyd's reactions to your height very amusing. Also can't help but chuckle when you knock your head into the ceiling and have to crawl or awkwardly crouch around the school's halls. Helps you find some other ways around the campus that uses fewer overhangs when possible. He was amazed at how strong yet gentle you were. You treated others with so much love and gentleness that it reminded Jade of how he tends to his mushrooms. Also amazed at how much you eat a day. in your human form, it's about 40-60 lbs of fish/shrimp/krill a day! Asks you many questions and why you don't use your intense strength to make others do as you say. He asks a lot of questions because he likes to hear your gentle yet loud voice. He headcanons that your voice is the voice mountains would have.

Another one who was a bit surprised at your invitation to sim in your true forms. You knew when to invite them since all merfolk need to stretch their fins every once in a while. Can easily keep up with you and swims around your arms. Acts and is the size of a small boa to you. he likes wrapping around your right arm as you swim around. Enjoys the speed you travel as he relaxes against your soft blubber. Does tickle you every once in a while by lightly knawing on said blubber. it doesn't hurt you so you're fine with it. Might fling him away if you get too ticklish though. He would just chuckle and tease you about being ticklish. Always follows you to the surface when you need to breath.

Floyd: Dang it! now he's not even the tallest in the Octavinelle dorm anymore! Saw how large you were and the blue of your hair and called you "Bluey" "Whaley" or just "blue whale", depending on his mood. Loves how you allow him to squeeze you, kinda awkward as he squeezes as hard as he can around your middle since his head only reaches your chest level. Loves to bury himself into your plush form. Also sometimes will just latch onto your back like a crazy backpack. You just chuckle and continue until he gets bored. Whenever he's in a bad mood you always find a way to cheer him up. Tried to challenge you to an eating contest when he saw how much you ate each day. He lost and got all grouchy and whiney cause now his tummy hurt.

Was SO excited when you invited him to go swimming in your merforms. Zoomed around your whole form cause he was that excited. Likes to wrap around your left arm and stick his tongue out and say in the current as you swim at high speeds. Asked you to launch him with your tail out of the water and screamed with joy as he went. Demanded to do it again a bunch more times, very much like an excited kid. If he's not around your arm, he's like a little scarf/choker. Bites you so often, mostly to just get your attention since you don't get hurt by his impressive chompers. He says you don't taste very good. But loves the feeling of biting into your blubber, and he likes your loud and gentle laughter as you say that tickles. Also has taken a nap on your back when you were both near the surface.

All three love to be around you and your calming aura. Azul likes to be held by you or nestled in your hair or on your back when you go swimming. Jade and Floyd enjoy being around your arms or swimming beside you. All in all, they love you and how you treat them all so well and bring out a much softer side of themselves they didn't even know was there.

#octavinelle #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #my stuff #my writing #jade leech #Floyd leech #tweels #octatrio #twst x reader #Floyd x reader #jade x reader #asks #thank you! #what a wonderful idea! #They are so sweet please! #thank your for the ask! #thank you #hope you like it! #i got pretty carried away with this #but it was too sweet #I couldn't help myself #twst fluff #cute stuff #thank you again!

[azrielgreen]

The Way It Shouldn't Be

- Part One

It's the way he kisses.

Steve knows of all the elements about fucking around with Eddie Munson in secret, it shouldn't be the kissing that gets him, but it is.

It should be the thrill, the secrecy stretched to breaking point time again because it's a small town, even smaller school and a secret like this could destroy him.

It's not the thrill.

Should maybe be the sex; oh god, the way it feels to get on his knees for Eddie before he fucks him. It's fast, rough, desperate. They're not gentle, there's no time for it and they're usually shaking with need by the time Steve will find some flimsy-ass excuse to corner Eddie and drag him away. Breathless fumbling and muttered filth.

'You want me that bad, huh? Couldn't wait to get me alone, Harrington.'

'Shut up or next time I'll fuck you in front of everyone,' he'll groan, pushing inside the other boy's body where it's hot and tight and wet with the lube he brings everywhere he goes now for reasons he cannot examine.

Eddie moans, pressed into the wall, head falling back and Steve makes a dangerous mess of the skin there, knows every time he does this they're coming closer and closer to discovery, but he's addicted, lost, gone for him.

'You w-wouldn't.'

Steve wants to laugh because the way he feels right now, his cock buried inside Eddie, the sheer cascade of feelings... he would. He really would. This thing makes him crazy, losing the necessary insecurities of societal membership one by one.

'Like you wouldn't love it,' he'll snarl against the skin beneath Eddie's ear, dragging his teeth like an animal as he starts to fuck him. Oh god it's so good, so wrong, nothing compares. 'You'd let me bend you over the lunch table--'

'Fucking try it!'

'--and open you up like a slut, you'd moan my name like a whore!'

Eddie's gorgeous in the most irritating way Steve's ever felt, like. He wants to hate everything about him, wants to find the black nail varnish revolting, wants to think Eddie's hair is stupid, ugly. He wants to hate how effortlessly he stands out, how natural he is when going against the grain.

His smile, the way his dark eyes flash, his tattoos, his scars, his voice.

Steve wishes he wasn't so painfully fucking attracted to all of it.

And he knows that it's a big part of the reason he cannot stop seeking Eddie out. The attraction, the serrated edge of a dangerous desire, the risk he's getting addicted to, the sex that blows his mind and ruins all else by comparison.

But it's the kissing that sinks hooks in his chest, wrap around the bones of his restraint and laugh cruelly.

Kissing Eddie is... it's the crux of all the danger because this is where Steve loses what very little control he has left with Eddie. When their lips touch, when they lick deep into one another's mouths, form a seal and pour all that desperation back and forth, he feels something worryingly like love brightening inside him.

He can't love Eddie Munson.

The reasons are too many to count.

And yet, whenever they kiss, he knows what he feels.

So he tries to kiss him less and less.

Today, he fucks Eddie against the wall of the art supply room, chalky scent of paints and musky old brushes unable to compare to the skin-scent of the man he's buried inside.

Presses him there, denies the kiss that'll ruin him, as if it has any chance of lessening what he courts, time and again.

He's not King Steve here in whatever room they make their world; here, he is blissfully without his "friends", doesn't have to maintain his facade, has no worries beyond Eddie.

'Harder,' Eddie grits out, shoving back, reaching behind to smack whatever of Steve he can reach, impatient and demanding. Steve tangles fingers in his hair, cruelly pulls to the side and sucks a deep, dark bruise right where a lover would.

'Want everyone to know,' he slurs against the hot, wet skin, hips slamming hard, cock deep. He's big, always has been, and every time at the start, he holds back a little, waits for Eddie to tell him it's OK by virtue of demanding rougher ministrations. Always in the back of his mind, he's worried about really hurting him.

But Eddie can take him all the way, he wants it rough and borderline violent, he openly teases and mocks until Steve's temper flares and he feels like he's gonna fuck him through the walls.

'Know what?'

Don't say it, don't say it.

'That you're mine.'

Eddie swallows a sound that must hurt, the way he winces. 'Fuck you, Harrington.'

'Next time, promise,' he whispers, bites his earlobe and pins him harder, shifts the angle to fuck the way he knows makes Eddie see stars, has to stand on tiptoes to do it, wrecks his muscles after but its so worth it. 'Can fuck me next time if you-you want.'

'Shut up and fuck me.'

It's strangled, overwrought. Steve falters, slows, frown etched deep. 'Hey, hey, you OK?'

'D-dont stop.'

No, his voice is trembling.

Steve feels like he's coming down from a high, he's all dizzy but he forces focus to form, needs to make sure Eddie's OK.

'Eddie...'

'Fuck me, Harrington, come on, we don't have long.'

'You're upset.'

Forehead against the wall, he won't look at Steve, won't turn. 'Stop.'

'I did, I have-'

'Stop being nice.'

Steve pulls out, arms around Eddie to turn him, seeking the source of the wrong feeling and Eddie tries to hide, but he can't. His eyes are wet, jaw tight, cheeks red.

'I... I wasn't being nice.'

Eddie shakes his head, jeans around his thighs, they never get fully undressed, there's never time. 'You were. To me, anyway.'

'Did I hurt you?'

Eddie shoves him, scowls. 'Fuck off, man.'

Steve shouldn't kiss him.

But he does.

Leans all the way in, lips gentle, captures Eddie's face with both hands.

'Maybe I wanna be nice,' he utters into Eddie's mouth, breath trembling. 'Wanna be good to you.'

Eddie kisses him back for three seconds.

Then he pulls away, slips free, yanks his jeans up. 'Don't fuck with me,' he warns flatly, still shaking. 'I'm not some girl you need to trick into bed or whatever.' He wipes his eyes, shutters lowered. 'You wanna fuck me, fuck me. Don't fuck with me, though. That's not OK.'

Steve redresses slowly, heart pounding in rebellion of the denial, the loss of orgasm.

'Sorry.'

Eddie shakes his head. 'Don't be sorry. You shouldn't--man, whatever. See you around.'

He leaves Steve alone with the brushes and the paints and something else, newly blossomed feeling Steve cannot possibly hope to kill.

He shouldn't want to kiss him.

Shouldn't want the things he does with Eddie Munson.

But he does.

'Ah, fuck it,' he says, goes after him.

*

Continued next Saturday💜

#steddie #oonionchiver #steddie fic #the way it shouldn't be

[clumsy-jiminie]

ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

❝ ʙɪɢ ꜰᴀɴ ❞

↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.

↣ rating :: 18+

↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn

↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung

↣ word count :: 3.8k

↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, public displays of affection

↣ notes :: welcome to the first chapter! 💕 I hope you guys already for the rollercoaster between these two.

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖

"you see my thick thighs, lost when you look into my brown eyes, see my little waist can make you switch sides. you've never seen the devil in disguise."

- be honest, jorja smith-

ｗｉｎｔｅｒ

A low hum of people chatting over the Lo-Fi beats filled the area. Glasses clinking, some munching, all sounds that Kiara Smith grew familiar with. Though the crowd was more significant than the last exhibition she attended, it was starting to become all the same. 

She could remember the very first exhibit she went to and all the nerves it brought. She was a bumbling mess—sweaty palms constantly being wiped on her dress that she may have also used as her prom dress while her stomach frequently threatened to release her breakfast all over the floor—as she watched the few people who also attended like hawks. So insecure about the words those people chose not to share. So insecure about their lips pressed into taught smiles. Were they being genuine or just keeping up appearances? Was her art worth anything, or was she going to flop and end up having to get a shitty job just to make ends meet? Those same nerves would never fade, holding onto her like some clingy child desperately needing attention. But they became less apparent whenever her boyfriend was around. The heaven-sent angel would always know the right thing to say and make the world melt away. Though he would never miss an event, it was very seldom that he was on time. She never stressed his whereabouts, knowing he'd arrive eventually.

The 24-year-old continued to walk around, partially eavesdropping as she passed couples and groups of people. Occasionally, she would take a sip of the bubbly gold in her glass to appease that child named Nerves tugging on her leg. She slowed to a stop once a particular piece caught her eye. It was two separate canvases placed at equal heights. One canvas had a bright figure colored in hues of pink and blue, while the other was dark. Shades of black and grey bled from one canvas to the other as if it was trying to overcome the figure itself. The darkness had enough space on their canvas, though, at least a third remaining untouched, but it wanted the colors. It wanted to possess them, spread its darkness to them.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" blurted a voice near her. Despite the voice being calm and inviting, it startled her. She quickly turned to the side, not realizing a man joined her. His side profile was magnificent — features that were immaculately sculpted from his eyebrows, down his straight nose bridge leading to a button tip, to where his rose-shaded lips took center stage, frozen in a pout. His light blonde hair with dark roots made his olive skin stand out. It looked natural on him. The man was attractive, and Kiara couldn't deny that. His aura alone was almost as intoxicating as the drink in her hand. It pulled her in and wrapped around her like a warm embrace. She nodded, humming in agreement with his question. She faced ahead again.

The man stole another glance at her, eyes slowly glazing over her features. "It's so rare nowadays to find someone who could capture so much without saying a word. It's almost godly."

The more he talked, the nicer his voice sounded. It had an excellent depth, low and appealing even in his hushed tone. Kiara was into what he was saying, continuing to nod until the last comment. She had to sip her drink to subdue the urge to giggle.

"But you know what you and this painting have in common?"

She turned to look at the man, their eyes meeting for the first time tonight. And boy, how he could get lost in those pools of amber. She raised an eyebrow curiously, her glass still resting on her lips as she silently urged him to continue.

"You both were crafted with the same care, holding a beauty one could only dream of containing."

Kiara almost spat out her drink, startling the man before her. She raised her hand to cover her mouth, holding back the remainder of the liquid behind her taut lips. The man's eyebrows drew together and his lips pursed slightly. His expression then dropped to a neutral state once he realized she was chuckling at what he said.

Once she swallowed the liquid, she turned to face him completely. She took a moment to graze over his appearance fully. He was well dressed, wearing a black blazer, white crew neck underneath, and dark-wash skinny jeans. Silver earrings dangled from his earlobes to match the silver chain around his neck and the wristwatch. 

"Damn," she commented, a grin growing on her full glossed lips, "you're really laying it on thick for someone you don't know." Her voice was nothing he expected. She seemed like one of those Hamptons girls, playing in New York City with daddy's money. Her voice was light and smooth like silk fabric, but her accent was hard like a concrete wall. She was either from Queens or Brooklyn, syllables being dropped or stretched at a whim. Something about the way her words blended was incredibly sexy. 

The man quirked a brow, intrigued as the corner of his lips pulled into a half smile. "You tryna say I'm out of practice?"

"Precisely." She answered quickly and confidently as she gazed up at him. "I expect that kind of line from someone twice your age."

"Well, ouch." He chuckled, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as his eyes glanced downward at the girl. "My job requires me to be blunt, so I call it like I see it."

"And you're saying I'm as beautiful as this painting?"

He grabbed a glass off the tray of a passing waiter. "Your beauty surpasses it." It was true. She was absolutely breathtaking. Her golden honey skin practically glowed under the cool white fluorescent lights. Her hair was dark brown and long, pulled back into a sleek high ponytail with two strands framing her face. Her black satin dress hugged every curve in her body with grace, and there were plenty of them. The material looked soft to the touch, gently reflecting the light. He'd be lying if he said her looks weren't the reason why he approached. And on top of all the looks, she smelled phenomenal—warm and sweet, like a freshly baked sugar cookie with a dash of cinnamon on top, making him want to relive through the holiday season that just passed.

Kiara let out a soft scoff. "Thank you, but that's not as much of a compliment as you may think." She suddenly spun on her stiletto heels, turning her back to the man as she walked away.

He quickly followed, catching up in a few steps to join her by her side. "Do explain."

"Beauty has, and always will be, skin deep." She circled the champagne in her glass while looking out into the crowd. "Looks fade over time. Trends come and go faster than the seasons. So if you really wanna wow a girl…." She stopped at another painting that grabbed her attention before looking at him. "Compliment the things you can't see." The two stopped to gaze at the artwork in front of them. The man thought over her words while admiring the piece. The canvas before them had various hues of green splashed about, but shades of purple peeked through upon closer inspection. It mimicked little flowers blooming through a field of wild grass. She managed to lead him to the only painting that mirrored their conversation.

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "You're completely right. And to think I almost missed out on how intelligent you are."

She smiled, soft and genuine. "Thank you."

The man stayed by her side as Kiara floated, offering his opinions on whichever piece they stopped in front of. She really appreciated being able to receive unbiased feedback on her work. He didn't know he was chatting with the artist. No one in the room knew. The name signed at the bottom of each canvas was Luna, a faceless painter. It's been that way since the beginning, and she intended it to stay that way. Only her close friends, family, and people she hired knew of her secret.

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to lunch tomorrow." The man asked at their fourth or so painting.

"I see you don't waste any time."

"Correct. Time is limited, after all."

She looked up at him, his perfect lips pulled into a soft smile. Maybe in another lifetime, she thought as she caught her lower lip between her teeth. "Flattered, but I can't."

His brows furrowed. He thought that the conversation they were having was great, so what was with the rejection? "May I ask why?"

"I have a boyfriend," she said with a wide smile.

He suddenly scoffed, causing her to tilt her head to the side slightly. "I haven't seen anyone on your arm the whole night." The first thing the man hated the most was being lied to.

Her brows then lowered while her eyes narrowed. "He's just late."

The second thing was excuses.

"Tsk," he shook his head before downing his drink. "Committed to a man with no time management? Red flag."

"And somehow that's better than a man who can't take rejection?" She shot back as she quickly matched his energy. They had a peaceful conversation only moments before, and now the energy between them had grown negative.

"Oh, I can take rejection," he stated with a chuckle as he put his glass down. "But only when I'm being told the truth."

"It is—"

"Hey, darling." And finally, the deep and butter-smooth voice appeared, melting away the anger that was bubbling inside Kiara. As he approached her side, he placed his large hand on the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm sorry I'm late."

The blonde in front of them eyed the man from his tan skin and wavy ebony hair to his solid-colored turtle neck and long coat. Something about the dark-haired man seemed familiar to the blonde. Then it hit him like a freight train. "Well, isn't it Mr. Kim Taehyung?" He smiled widely, glancing up at the slightly taller man.

Taehyung's brows furrowed momentarily before grinning. "Holy shit, Park Jimin!" He stepped forward, leaving Kiara's side to wrap his arms around the blonde. "What are you doing here?" He asked as he pulled away from the man. "I never would've thought that you'd be into art."

He chuckled softly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "It's just a little appreciation I picked up from Spain." He shrugged casually.

Taehyung's jaw clenched briefly, his smile slipping for a moment. For as long as he's known Jimin, he always had to slip in a way to brag about his accomplishments. It was sad that he still hasn't grown out of that trait yet. "Ah yeah," he responded, playing cool, "I forgot you traveled there. How was it?"

Jimin shrugged again. "It was Spain," he said, glazing over the topic. "But me and—shit, I'm sorry." His attention shifted from Taehyung to the woman. "I never asked for your name."

"I'm Kiara," she said softly. Her arms folded over her chest as she watched the two men converse. She didn't mind a bit since Taehyung was the most extroverted of the two.

"Kiara," Jimin repeated to himself, his eyes trailing down her appearance briefly. He tried to pin the name to the face, especially if she was Taehyung's. His eyes finally returned to the other man. "Kiara and I were discussing some of the pieces earlier. I've been a huge fan of Luna for years now." He tried to be calm about the subject of Luna, but it made excitement course through his veins. He was among the first few to learn about the mysterious artist who abruptly appeared on the scene. Everyone wanted one of their pieces overnight, and Jimin was obviously at the very top of that list. Every brushstroke left was a paragraph, speaking a language only artists could understand. 

"I don't even wanna talk about how hard it was to get in here," he chuckled, a faint flush spreading over his cheeks. A Luna Eclipse had a longer wait list than some Michelin-star restaurants. Luckily for him, he was able to pull a few strings. A few phone calls here, some embarrassing promises there, and he was in.

Kiara couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips as she eyed the man. The smirk on Taehyung's lips was full of pride, almost conceited, as he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Oh, you don't say?" For once in the pair's life, it felt like Taehyung had a one-up on Jimin. "How does it feel to—"

"My love," Kiara interjected, voice just as sweet, yet bitter, like honey as she placed her hand on Taehyung's chest. She looked up at him, and Jimin could see her pupils dilated, swirling with love. He chewed on his lower lip gently. He barely knew this woman, but why did he want her to look at him like that? "I have to talk to you about something."

Taehyung stared at his partner with furrowed brows before looking at Jimin. "Um, alright. I'll catch up with you later then."

She looked at Jimin, and that love dissipated instantly. Such a look was only reserved for Taehyung, making a heaviness grow in his abdomen. "If you would excuse us."

The blonde couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from Kiara. "Of course," he finally said, grinning at the man. "Don't be a stranger!"

The two waved at each other before Kiara led him away. Her arm wrapped around his, holding him close to her. She glanced back at Jimin one last time before pulling Taehyung to a quiet section of the event. He leaned against the pillar while Kiara stood before him, gazing up at him.

"Why did you cut me off?" Taehyung asked, keeping his voice calm.

"Because you almost name-dropped me," she said, her arms folding over her chest. 

The 26-year-old's lips turned into a small o shape before forming a sheepish smile. "You're right. I'm sorry. I completely forgot for a second. It's just so hard not to brag about you when you always look so good." He reached out and touched her waist, pulling her into him.

She couldn't stop her lips from forming a smile as he buried his face into her neck. She giggled quietly, her hands placed on his chest. "Stop it," she whined, not wanting him to do such a thing.

Taehyung inhaled deeply, the notes of her sweet perfume entering his nostrils. "Mm, and you're wearing my favorite perfume too?" He mumbled against her skin, placing gentle kisses randomly. "You just wanted me to be on you."

The girl laughed before gasping when she felt his large hand fully palm her ass. She pulled away from him just enough to slap him in the chest playfully. "We're in public!"

His eyes locked with hers, with a smirk playing on his lips. "So?" He questioned as he pulled her close again, resuming to litter her neck with kisses. "No one's looking anyway. They're too distracted by your beautiful art." 

He continued until he reached her favorite spot, a moan parting from her smiling lips. His hands couldn't get enough of her, feeling her up as if it was the first time. Kiara's eyes fluttered shut, biting back moans that wanted to escape her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Taehyung," she whined again, partially out of want. It started to feel so good that the world began to melt away. "Someone will see."

Someone cleared their throat. "That's true."

Kiara's eyes shot open, quickly pushing the man in the midst of giving her a hickey off of her. He groaned as his back hit the pillar wall while she turned around. Her cheeks flushed with heat, embarrassment promptly replacing the arousal. She saw familiar ice-blue eyes playfully glaring at her. The petite woman pushed her long, ginger hair off her shoulders as she cocked an eyebrow at the two—disapproval flooding her features.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Hello, Aimee," he said, greeting the woman for both of them.

Aimee huffed, glancing at the man. "Taehyung."

He stood up from the wall, kissing Kiara's temple. "Lemme get us something to drink." He shot one last glare to Aimee before walking off.

Aimee shook her head. "I don't know how you put up with him and all the PDA." She grumbled, her heavy New Jersey accent ringing through Kiara's ears while she glared a hole into the back of Taehyung's head.

Kiara straightened out the smooth material of her dress. "You get used to it," she smiled softly to herself. "Plus, I kinda like it."

"Ugh," Aimee rolled her eyes as she folded her arms over her chest. "Seems like he'd fuck ya right there with an audience." The girl pointed her index finger to her open mouth, making a gagging sound while Kiara laughed.

"You're so dramatic," Kiara smiled while shaking her head. "But what's up? Is everything going OK?" Aimee was at every event Kiara held. She was her art dealer, providing guests with the information needed to purchase a piece. She would only come up to the artist if something were awry.

"Oh! Everything is fucking fantastic, honestly." Her eyes lit up with excitement as she bounced on the balls of her heels. "I think this might be your best collection yet."

Kiara sighed in relief, placing her hand on her chest as it fell. "Thank you. If we can get everything sold tonight, I'll be set." Aimee looked at the girl, her brows furrowing momentarily before releasing. "Taehyung and I have been looking for a bigger place."

Aimee's lips turned down into a slight frown. "A bigger house? Has he even talked about getting a ring yet?"

Kiara's shoulders dropped, her hand pinching and rubbing at her fingers. She sounded just like her best friends and every other friend in Kiara's life. "I know," she sighed. She glanced down at her left hand, where her ring finger was aching to be adorned with something. "It's so backward, but a one-bedroom isn't enough. He needs an office space for work. So, I'm hoping the ring will come soon after once we settle into a new place."

She looked at the girl, a sad smile replacing her frown. "Well, it's only been four years, right?"

Only. That word ran circles in Kiara's head. 

It's only been for years. 

You've only just moved in with each other. 

You've only just started dating.

The word was growing tiresome, especially in the conversations about Taehyung. Everyone had an opinion about her and her relationship, but no one dared to say anything straightforward about it. She was sick of only.

Kiara nodded slowly, which only caused Aimee to sigh. "He'll come around, doll, don't stress it." She assured with a soft smile, gently patting the woman's shoulder. "Lemme get back to my job so you can get that house." After Kiara gave Aimee a small smile, she walked off. She almost bumped into Taehyung on the way out, the two quietly cursing at each other before continuing their path.

He returned to Kiara with a smile, handing her a glass of champagne. "All good news?"

She grinned at the man, feeling warm despite not sipping her drink yet. "Amazing news."

As the night continued, the two walked around together. They always had a hand on each other somehow, whether it was Taehyung's on the small of her back or Kiara's hand being swallowed by his. She adored this. It made her feel safe—feel wanted. He had to let everyone know she was off the market and was his. As if a shiny diamond ring resting upon her left finger wouldn't have done the same. Taehyung struck up conversations with random people, small-talking them like the extrovert he was. During each conversation, she would glance around, finding something to fill her attention while they spoke of things that didn't matter. Every time, her gaze would meet the blonde.

Their eyes lingered for longer than what was appropriate. Why was he looking at me? She thought while she fidgeted with her fingers. Or was he staring at Taehyung?

"Love," she said as she turned her gaze to Taehyung. He has just finished up a conversation with an elderly couple. "How long have you known Jimin?"

"We grew up together, and were best friends."

The girl's eyes went wide. Despite four years together, Taehyung rarely talked about anything before his college years. It was optional to dwell on past things, even though Kiara would've loved to know everything, from how he scraped his knees while learning to ride a bike to his first love.

"We even went to college together, out here," he continued. "But our crowds were completely different. He got along with the nepo babies since he basically is one, and I got along with the art kids. I remember us bumping heads quite a bit." He let out an amused chuckle.

"Oh," she frowned slightly.

"Like he didn't have to brag about going to Spain," he blurted out. "Not all of us can drop our responsibilities and take off on vacation for a year."

"A year?!" She repeated as her jaw dropped.

"Mhm, basically had his parents pay for the whole trip." There was a fire behind his words. He's been tight-lipped about his friendship with Jimin, and finally, it felt amazing to let it out. "I'm surprised he's not rotting from the inside out."

Kiara pouted a bit, never hearing Taehyung speak so harshly about another. "Well, maybe it was a birthday gift?" The blonde couldn't be that bad, even if she got a taste of that quick-witted mouth earlier. He could've just been having a bad day after all.

"He left in March, babe, and his birthday is in October."

Her mouth formed a small o before she chewed on her lower lip gently. "So you're not gonna catch up with him?"

He looked ahead before glancing down at the girl. "I am," he said with a shrug, "I would rather hang out with a nepo baby than my coworkers." Kiara let out a half-hearted snicker as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "It would be a good opportunity to get out of the house since someone says I need to make friends."

"You do!" She looked at him, brows furrowed and nose slightly scrunched. "I feel bad leaving you home every girls' night. I want to know you're having fun and not rewatching the same three movies."

"They're good movies!" He argued with a smile as the girl shot him a glare. "But I hear you," she stretched out the last syllable as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "So I will try for you, OK?"

The girl smiled, leaning up to touch their lips together briefly. "Thank you." She hoped they could work past their differences and become friends. She knew the man wanted to go out and experience things, but he longed for a set group to do that with. Sometimes, rekindling a relationship was more manageable than starting a new one.

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

#bts fanfic #bts fic #fic: inevitably yours #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fic #bts smut #jimin x oc #park jimin x oc #park jimin smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut

[bichachonacho]

All grown up

Part 2 of ‘When we were young’

warnings: angst ? Nothing major

a/n: I apologise to those who have been waiting for this update, thank you for being patient with me :)

The fan art divider below is not my work. I found it on pinterest but Idk who the artist is. If someone knows can you please lmk so I can give them credit <3

Anerya could feel the warmth of Kings Landings air brush against her skin, she hums in content as she takes in the familiar surroundings— realising she was finally home. After travelling for months on end around the seven kingdoms, she could finally rest knowing she didn’t have to return on the road for a while. She missed the warmth, her family and even the Red Keep— the halls she grew up in were practically calling for her as she stepped foot out of her carriage.

“You could’ve easily ridden on Dragonback here daughter, you would’ve arrived days ago” Rhaenyra smiles as she approaches her daughter, hand rubbing her swollen stomach as she holds her other arm open to welcome her. 

“Where’s the joy in arriving on time?” She chuckles, sighing in content as she finally feels her mother’s embrace-- one she hasn’t felt in many moons. Anerya didn’t know whether to feel relieved or uneasy about being back in her first home, one she hasn’t stepped for in for nearly a decade. 

“Your father is busy training with your uncles” Rhaenyra hums as she leads her daughter down the halls in the Red Keep, Aneyra’s eyes vacant as she observes her familiar surroundings. She hears her distant laughter as a child as Jace chased her down these halls, hiding behind walls and corners as they caused a ruckus in the lavish palace. 

“Uncles? Didn’t think father would see them fit to train with him” She hums, tightness in her chest as she remembers her uncles— one in particular who broke her heart all those years ago. She was yet to see him but she already knew she didn’t want to, she’d rather avoid him than face him again.

“There will be a family feast tonight— you are expected to attend” Rhaenyra tuts, her eyes observing her daughter that seems to be lost in thought.

“I’ll be there. Why… do you doubt me?” Anerya chuckles— breaking from her thoughts. Rhaenyra gives her daughter a knowing look, one that Anerya knows is well deserved.

“Well you always fled on dragon back during our suppers back home” Her mother reflects on all those times Anerya would skip dinner to explore the cities near dragon stone.

“I was eager to explore. Besides, I wouldn’t dare miss another dinner, grandsire would not be pleased” She hums, making a mental note to visit her grandfather who was sickly, so much so he was bedridden.

Aneyra is left in her bedchamber to rest after her long journey, the first thing she does is throw off her shoes before collapsing into the neatly made bed. She sighs heavily, admiring the scent of freshly clean linen before she shuts her eyes. Her hand ghosts over the scar embedded on her cheek, she had grown used to it and it had faded over time — yet she couldn’t help but wonder what her face would look like unscathed.

If her uncle hadn’t maimed her all those years ago, would she have been more appealing to others, potential friends who wouldn’t dare look her way— afraid they’d catch flack for being associated with her. The scarred princess they’d whisper amongst themselves. This bothered her more so as a child, she could take the criticism now— although somewhat insecure, she would never show how much the scar affected her.

She decides to explore the Red Keep out of boredom, she had hours to spare before dinner and her brothers were occupied with their mother so she had no one to bother. She huffs as she leaves her room, hand tracing the walls as she walks through the hallways. She doesn’t realise how far she walks until she passes by the garden. The same one she and prince Aemond once stood beneath, the same one she tried to comfort him under and in return was scarred with the same fate as him.

She feels a lump grow in her throat at the memory, eyes gazing over the aged tree that still looked the same as it did all those years ago. She forces herself to pull her eyes away and continue her walk— afraid those memories would completely flood her if she didn’t.

Anerya unwillingly finds herself in the training court, the clashing of steel ringing in her ears as she rounds the corner— eyes landing on a group surrounded the two sparring. She doesn’t have to guess who is in the centre, she could see their silver hair from afar— their grunts filling the air as they spar. She joins the crowd— her breath hitching momentarily from the sight of her father and uncle.

Prince Aemond had changed drastically since the last she saw of him, long silver hair— tall and slim, the baby fat in his cheeks had burned away and had now left him with the face of a god. The eye patch that covers his scarred eye catches her attention, the sight of it causing her to wonder what was beneath. He was no longer the child she once left in the hallway— and she was no longer the child who walked away with a broken heart.

“Daughter, have you come to train? Show your uncle what real swordsmanship looks like?” Daemon teases when his eyes catch onto her presence, his words prompting Aemond to pull his attention away from him and look at the girl beside them.

Aemond could barely hide his surprise at the sight of you. You were practically unrecognisable, no longer the little girl who used to follow him around— you were a grown woman, longer hair, fuller breasts and taller— but not as tall as he. He feels himself grow unsteady at the mere sight of her, she was beautiful— the scar he left on her skin only making her more admirable to him. As selfish as it is, he liked the comfort of knowing they shared the same trauma.

“I’ll pass, father. I wouldn’t want to ruin such a lovely dress mother forced me to wear upon arrival” She hums, hands smoothing over the dark red material that covers her body.

“Your mother does have her way with words— even through notes sent by ravens” Daemon laughs, aware of his stubborn his wife could be on things as such.

“You enjoy the sport, dear niece?” Aemond questions her, taking the opportunity to speak with her after her father. They paused their sparring momentarily, much to the dismay of those surrounding them.

“I admire it, although I don’t enjoy the dire outcomes it brings— it’s entertaining” She says, hoping he would lose interest at her answer and leave her alone.

“Your father speaks of your skill in the sport— I would hope to spar you one day soon” Aemond suggests, the look in his eye practically begging her to agree to his request. His uncle had spoken very highly of his daughter’s swordsmanship, claiming she was trained by only the best in dragonstone— she could best any swordsman in Kings Landing, including the one eyed prince.

“It would be a foolish thing to hope for, I could take your other eye in a heartbeat— I show no mercy when sparring, dear uncle” She tuts, watching a coy smile grace Aemond’s features at her threatening words. They didn’t deter him away, instead it made the desire he feels for her burn even stronger. He admired her confidence.

“I have other ways to pass time before dinner, I shall leave you to train” She informs them, her words directed at her father but her eyes burning into Aemond’s. If Anerya had looked closely enough, she would catch the way the shared eye contact made his lip twitch, a lump growing in his throat at her aura.

She turns to leave, unaware that even as she walks away— prince Aemond’s eye doesn’t leave her until she’s completely out of sight. He was winded upon her brief visit— barely focusing as he continues to spar with his uncle. He didn’t care for the family feast tonight, in fact he would rather explore all of flea bottom than be forced to sit at the table— yet knowing she would be there caused excitement to grow in him. He would attend for her, eager to see her face and hear her voice once more before the day ends.

“Tell us of your journeys amongst the seven kingdoms, my beloved daughter” Anerya’s grandsire’s words pull her attention from the plate that sits in front of her — her food partially untouched as she plays with it beneath her cutlery. She had lost her appetite the moment she sat at the table, the intimidation she felt from her uncle’s gaze had deterred her from feeling any hunger.

“It was most gruelling but some sights are so beautiful you can only question how the gods sculpted such scenery” She says before reflecting upon some of the various sights she encountered on her journey.

“I wonder dear niece, if any of these said places turned to turmoil after your arrival. The scar on your face is quite hideous” Aegon’s snarky remark is said from across the table, a grin clear on his face as he teases her. Daemon moves to chastise his nephew, but he knows better— Anerya wouldn’t be pleased with her father if he had protected her as if she was a child. She didn’t need him to fight her battles, especially ones against Aegon.

“I’m surprised you’re here, uncle. I’ve heard through many that you spend your time drunk in brothels. I can’t say I expected anything less from you” Anerya’s words are dripping of sarcasm, her tone causing the smile to fall from his face— a sight that brings her satisfaction.

“Enough of the banter. You are both grown, only children bicker at the dinner table” Alicent chastises them both as she stands from her seat, Aneyra gives her an apologetic look before she bites her tongue and sits in silence.

“It is so precious having you all in the same room again— our beloved family we have not seen in many moons, we welcome you back and hope to grace you with warmth during your time here” Alicent raises her goblet, causing everyone to mimic her as she says her speech.

Anerya’s gaze trails around the room, realising just how much her family had changed over the years. The children were grown, Helaena bore some of her own and their parents had aged during the time that passed. She was sat here nearly a decade ago and she notes how different they all seemed.

“With that being said— we would be pleased to announce a decision that has been spoken between both parties. One that we had come to an agreement with and mutually agreed would be most beneficial for the bonding of our families” Alicent continues, stepping toward Aemond who sits— she places her hand on his shoulder before her gaze catches onto Anerya’s. She feels her heartbeat pounding in her throat at the sight, a dreaded feeling coiling in her stomach as she waits for the very words she expects to hear.

“Prince Aemond and Princess Anerya are to be betrothed and bound to marry before the weeks end”

—

a/n: apologies if this seemed rushed, I hope it was well paced :p

tags <3

@signyvenetia @percyjacksonspeen @thatssoslytherin @curlszx88 @kittiowolf210 @alwaysdaydreamingoffiction @schniiipsel @zgzgzh @marytvirgin @lugiastark @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @yuukiahim @fadingbelieverexpert

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x original character #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen smut #hotd fanfic

[anti-spop]

on the topic of flawed characters, there's one that will always shock me at how much hate he got. i'm talking about lars from st/even universe. like yeah, he was a jerk and all, but even from the beginning we saw there was more to him. lars is incredibly insecure and socially anxious and it's implied that he's depressed as well (none of these things excuse his behavior!). and lars was often punished throughout the show, by steven, ronaldo, and even sadie. and yet lars was always seen in the wrong.

lars was probably the MOST hated character in the entirety of su. hell, ppl hated him more than they hated the diamonds or gems like jasper. ppl would legitimately send DEATH THREATS to lars/larsadie fans. i remember that very clearly. i wasn't a big lars fan back then but i already liked him. lars was like the show's equivalent of s/quidward, who's also my fave in s/pongebob.

i related a lot to lars, too. i was a lot like him as a teen. i still am a bit like him - sarcastic, grumpy, insecure yet still very passionate about my interests - but yeah, if you related to lars, you were seen as a horrible person. the fandom only started liking him when lars DIED and became a cool space captain. but as soon as lars relapsed (or when he thought sadie was trying to get back at him for hanging out with the cool kids), ppl were ready to hate on him again.

honestly, even now that lars is liked, i still get ppl leaving their opinions on my lars art ("ugh i HATED lars when i first watched the show but he's cool now"), and i hate that very much. i hate that i'm not allowed to like lars without ppl still hammering in my head how much they hated or still dislike him. i wouldn't comment that on your art of your fave, i would just make my own damn post or just leave my opinion to myself. that's like saying "i hate this ship but cool art".

another important factor to note is that lars is not white. even in like 2015, one of the crew members confirmed that. and later we find out lars is filipino (and it IS confirmed onscreen when lars bakes an ube cake). he is in fact a mentally ill character of color. and that's exactly what makes ppl hate him, besides the fact lars isn't conventionally attractive. bc i know fans would drool over him if that were the case (and especially if he were white). you COULD say lars is the equivalent of spop kyle, both pathetic and skinny boys, except lars is not white, and he's snarky and short-tempered, but it is implied he was bullied or mistreated at some point in his childhood, too.

and of course, there are other actual flawed characters of color who get unfair hate, like katara, korra (though i haven't seen lok), diane from bojack, and glimmer. which angers me when ppl stan catra and they accuse you of being racist or ableist if you criticize her.

you guys. do not. give a fuck. about ACTUAL characters of color. you will just hate them too! fuck off with that performative bullshit.

#i post #anti stans #racism tw #ableism tw #sorry i am very passionate about this #and i am the biggest lars fan #srsly he's my favorite character of all su

[trina864]

Distance between us | KTH - Requested

Summery: Your insecurities rise as your boyfriend becomes more and more distant. Maybe he just needs some space? Paring: Boyfriend!Kim Taehyung x Reader Genre: Fanfiction, Romance || Angst, fluff. | est relationship Word Count: 2.6 k Warning: Little angsty, insecurities about the relationship. ‣ A/N: My first request, let's see how this goes, hope you like it (:

Your beating heart would always no matter what beat just a tad bit faster whenever your boyfriend walked past you.

His brown eyes the worlds prettiest art in your opinion. You just loved how they always looked at everything with a new take. He saw the world through another filter, which you deeply loved.

Yet it seemed that same eyes never looked to long in your direction.

You had tried everything there was to try in the ‘how to be a good girlfriend’ book and it didn’t work.

You had tried cooking his favorite dishes, get him to talk about his hobbies, Hell! you even tried dressing up! Dressing in a floral dress which you knew Taehyung would like even though you didn’t like it on your body.

He was still not communicating with you.

And you felt it, each late afternoon when he got home from work whereas you had been home studying for your final year in university. He never greeted you like you greeted him. He always walked past you right into your shared bedroom where he would sleep with his back facing you.

You’ll admit that Taehyung hasn’t always been the most clingy boyfriend or most talkative guy, but it had gotten worse over time.

And now you had reached a point where you were starting to doubt if he even loved you.

Over the phone:

“I just don’t know what to do anymore Jimin, he’s always so cold, he never says anything always just walks past me as if I’m not here.”

- “Y/N, listen to me. Taehyung loves you, trust me. It’s probably just work, you know he takes his photography very seriously.”

“But still Jimin... What if I did something wrong? Maybe I insulted him in some way? Or what if- what if he doesn’t love me anymore?” You voice quivered into the phone making the man on the other side sigh.

- “Y/n just trust me okay? Taehyung does love you. I’m sure he didn’t mean to seem distant. Just go talk to him instead of ranting to me.”

Were you ranting? Was Jimin being tired of you too? You’re sure Jimin didn’t mean it like that, yet in your already vulnerable state you couldn’t help the thought going through your head.

“Yea you’re right Jimin, I’ll go now. See you later.” And you ended the call before he could answer back.

You were sitting in yours and Taes blue couch, a Kdrama in the background and the plush blanket your mother had gifted you in your lap.

Old pictures of you and Taehyung decorated the soft green walls of your apartment. You two looked so happy on those old photos, just like every new couple who were still in that puppy love phase.

You were all finished with your studies for the day so that gave you lots of time to overthink every little thing.

Taehyung and you met each other back in high school. You had seen him at a party and in your drunken confidence walked up to him and gotten his number.

The next day you had invited him to a coffee date where you discovered that he didn't even like coffee.

That seemed like it was decades ago.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the door open and a tired Taehyung came in.

“You’re home early.” You stated with a smile as you pulled the blanket off your lap and got up to greet him.

“Mhm. Got done early.” He said not looking at you and walked past your outstretched arms.

You wanted to cry as you were left in a puddle of your own loneliness, but you kept it cool.

“What do you want for dinner? I was thinking an easy kimchi ste-“ you started and turned back to your boyfriend, but Taehyung interrupted you.

“Don’t bother, I’ll just take an instant ramen." He said and went to the kitchen leaving you with sunken shoulders once again.

You sat down, wrapping the soft blanket even closer to your body in an attempt to comfort yourself. It worked in some sense, yet it would have been so much better with your boyfriends strong arms around you and his fingers tracing your arms.

The drama in front of you was at this point only confusing you with all the missing things you hadn't watched.

You could hear Taehyung mumble to himself from the kitchen. You stood up and walked towards the kitchen, you didn't like being alone.

It the relationship you had always been the clingy one, it was often you who started conversations or kissed him. Whenever he started something you would jump in excitement.

Were you truly getting to clingy for him? Maybe he was suffocating in the relationship. That was the last thing you wanted.

When you reached the small kitchen you immediately went to Taehyung back-hugging him. He didn't lean into you, he didn't shake you away, there was just no reaction from him.

You let go and walked in front of him placing yourself in between him and the kitchen counter.

Taehyung was looking down at his phone with a deep frown placed between his eyebrows, and his jaw scrunched in a tight hold. It was clear that he was angry.

You softly tickled him with a chuckle trying to cheer him up, but he wafted you away without looking up from that damn phone. You both heard the ding from the kettle - this time with Taehyung looking up and walking over to his food.

And then again he left you as he had finished the making of his food.

It was certain now. He was really showing you every sign there was to show, he didn't want to be with you. He didn’t even try to hide the obvious.

You didn't know what to do with this information. You couldn't give up on your relationship, you simply loved him too much and was way to selfish for that.

But staying like this was too hurtful. Your heart couldn't take any more rejections.

Then an idea popped into your head. If Taehyung really was strangled by your clingy behavior then you would have to give him space.

Maybe with space he would come back to himself. And with that thought in mind you made a rule for yourself. You couldn't be as touchy and sticky as you have been, Tae needed air to breathe, and you would give him the air.

Days later nothing had changed between you two. There was still a growing distance, as the earth sliding away from the sun.

You had really tried your hardest to give your boyfriend the space he needed. You stopped texting him every minute and stopped jumping onto him whenever you saw him.

It didn't seem to work, you doubted he even noticed your attempts at making things work out.

Taehyung had in fact noticed your change in behavior. You didn't greet him when he came home from work, never asked what he wanted to eat, and you didn't hug or kiss him as much.

He wondered what had happened since you stopped. Yet he had a feeling it was his fault. Taehyung had never been as good as you to express his feelings - he knew that.

But he had never thought that his lack of expression would make you turn into exactly that - expressionless.

He didn't like the way your relationship were going, or how you were starting to change yourself. He knew it was his fault, yet he didn't know what he could do to get you back to yourself.

Currently you two were sat on each side of the couch seeing some drama you had put on before he came home. It wasn't awkward between you, yet it wasn't comfortable either.

Once again his phone buzzed, and you watched as a new deep frown was put on his face.

The next few days was the same. That weird atmosphere in the air between you.

Taehyung now really missed the old you. There was no light to his day if he didn't have your hugs to look forward to, or your concern for him, or your resecuring smiles.

He wanted you to tell him it was okay, that everything would be good.

Taehyung was the only one of you with an income at the moment which he didn't have any problem with, he knew it was hard to finish university, he could see that on the bags under your eyes.

But sometimes he was really stressed knowing he was responsible if the rent wasn't paid. Or if there wasn't food on the table.

At the same time there was so much drama at his work. There was a new boss who was a pain in the ass, always trying to tell him how to take his pictures, and always trying to make him work when he was officially off.

That was why he just wanted to come home to your hugs. To your beautiful soul pulling him into the universe called you.

You on the other hand was almost dying by the hand of your own doubt. Was he really done with you? He hadn't done anything to get your attention, you don't even think he noticed how you tried to please him.

Tonight you had gone to bed early. You couldn't stop thinking about Taehyung.

Why was it so hard for you when you were partners? It shouldn't be like this.

Maybe he just wanted to end it, but was pitying you to much to actually do it.

With these thoughts running around in your head you were so certain that they were true when you heard Taehyungs voice for what felt like the first time in months.

"Y/N... We need to talk." He spoke softly as you turned around to face him and sat up on the bed.

You couldn't look up in his eyes, not when you knew he was annoyed by you and wanted to end your relationship, not when your own eyes were filled with emotions you'd rather want saved for yourself.

"W- what do you wanna talk about?" You stammered out playing with your fingers.

You could feel and hear him walk closer to the bed. He sat down in front of you on the purple bed covers.

"Y/N, look at me plea- please." His voice broke making your eyes turn upwards to look at him.

When you saw his eyes too filled with emotions you wanted to cry out. For the first time in a while you could read him, you could make out his words without him having to tell you.

His fingers sneaked over your hands and took them into a tight hold.

"We need to talk about us." He said immediately causing anxiety to rush through your blood.

"U- us? What do you mean?" You didn't want to make assumptions, but it sounded just like what you had feared these past few days.

You looked down once again, this time with your eyes retreating with tears in them. You really didn't want to lose Taehyung. He was the star showing you the way, without him there was nothing.

Taehyung even though a little withdrawn had always been a big support, always telling you to go for what you wanted. It was his fault that you hadn't ended up working on a tankstation, but actually found something to do with your life.

"I mean that there's been this t-tension between us, a- and I feel like that's my fault." He said which made you look up.

When he saw the tears in your eyes he understood that it defiantly was his fault. As if second nature he moved closer to you and took your frame into his strong hold.

It only caused more tears to fall when he finally showed the emotions you had been longing for. Finally there was comfort from your boyfriend.

"I- it's not your fault Taehyung. I k-know that you're not t- too fond of deep emotions and I've b- been too clingy.-" Your sobbing voice stopped when you were interrupted by Taehyung.

"Y/n stop. You have never been too clingy, I've been too distant, and I'm sorry. I never meant to make you doubt yourself. Y/N, your hugs, your greetings, everything you do is the things that keeps me going." He expressed making you fall silent in his arms, listening to him as he caressed the soft crown of your head.

"I've never been good with feelings, or with expressing them. But I do know that the feelings I feel towards you is the strongest and best things I've ever felt. Please, don't distance yourself from me." There was a new desperation in his voice, which you hadn't heard from him before. Yet it was nice to know that it existed.

"Tae... I only distanced myself because I thought that was what you would want." You admitted softly smiling as you suddenly realized that everything was going to be okay.

"Now why would you do that? I need you as you are! Nothing less." He laughed softly stroking your hair.

"It was just... You stopped hugging me back and whenever I would ask what you wanted to eat you would take an instant ramen instead. It hurt. So I thought you needed some space." You said as you could feel Taehyung slow his movements.

He didn't look at you knowing you were right, he had been more distant that usually, but he never realized it himself. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been for taking your care for granted.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I don't know why I've been so distant, I think it could be because of work, I have this new boss and he's so awful. Whenever I came home I was still too angry to hug you and I didn't want to burden you with making food to me when you've been studying." He explained.

You looked up at him with serious eyes hugging his arms closer to you and falling back into his stomach.

"Tae you need to say things like that! I'm your girlfriend, if you wanna rant to be about your shitty boss then you do that! Don't think too much about my studies, I'm home all day anyways so my life gets quite boring, I could use the drama." You scolded with a smile on your face, a smile which was contagious as Taehyung too softly laughed pulling both of you down to the soft mattress.

"Besides I love cooking for you. Don't think it's a burden for me, I really-... do enjoy it." You said a yawn rudely interrupting you.

Taehyung scoffed looking down at your form.

"Tired?" He asked as he tangled his legs with yours. You would've made a big thing out of it, if you weren't so tired.

"Yeah..." You said your eyes softly closing and opening.

"Nap-time?" His voice dropped a few octaves only lulling your further into dreamland, with him being the main character in your world.

"Mhm... sounds like the perfect idea."

You felt his arms letting go only to pull the plushy covers over you and himself, when they again found their spot on your waist he pulled you closer burring his head into your neck.

It would have surprised you how touchy he was, normally you would be doing these things, but you were too tired, too worn out by the rush of anxiety you had felt during yours and Taehyungs conversation to notice the surprise.

Fairly before your eyes closed and your mind wandered off you heard Taehyungs soft whispers.

"Sorry I was so distant, I love you Y/N."

And then you fell into dreamland, in your boyfriends embrace, with his words echoing as a sweet melody.

#fanfic #romance #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts #bts taehyung #bts tae x reader #taehyung x reader #bts kim taetae #bts kim taehyung #kim taetae #tae #bts v fanfic #bts requests #taehyung request

[nanowrimo]

How to Write Through Second Book Syndrome

Second Book Syndrome is a unique experience that can affect any writer. Today, author Uju Asika talks about what she learned while tackling Second Book Syndrome and gives advice on navigating it.  There’s something immensely powerful about completing your first book. For a brief moment, you feel invincible. After all, pretty much everyone you meet thinks they have a book in them, but not many people actually sit down to write it.

I wrote my first book, Bringing Up Race, in the midst of a global pandemic. Writing my next book, a picture book for younger readers, was a much less stressful experience. So it was actually with my third book, aimed at grownups again, that Second Book Syndrome kicked in.

You’ve probably heard of sophomore album syndrome (see Lauryn Hill, The Stone Roses) aka the sophomore slump that, apparently, can happen to anyone from athletes to second year college students.

Second Book Syndrome isn’t talked about as much and yet it affects almost every author on some level. Whether you’re a million-copy seller, a mid-list author or a relative newbie, you grapple with the same insecurities and nightmare scenarios. How do I write something as good as or better than my last book? If my first book did well, was it just a fluke? If my first book sold poorly, is this book my last shot? Will it meet my readers’ expectations or am I going to get troll-bombed on Goodreads? Am I establishing an author brand or have I niched myself into a corner? Can I experiment with voice or will I get laughed at by critics? Do I even have it in me to write a WHOLE OTHER BOOK?

Now that you’ve finished at least one book, you might feel like you’ve got this shit nailed. But the tricky thing about writing is that every time you open a blank page, you are starting from scratch. And every time you face a blank page, you are forced to meet yourself there, again and again. No matter whether you’re writing fiction or nonfiction. There’s no escaping yourself and that’s what makes it so hard, so vulnerable and potentially, so transformative.

My latest book, Raising Boys Who Do Better: A Hopeful Guide for a New Generation, came out last month. Foolishly, I had it in the back of my mind that writing this book would be a relative breeze. In some ways, it was harder. I had so much Resistance — the negative force that pushes back when you try to do something that matters, as Steve Pressfield talks about in The War of Art.

I also had to deal with the impostor syndrome (a close cousin of Second Book Syndrome) that whispered in my ear that I didn’t have another book in me. That I had used up all my smart ideas and pretty words. That I should stick to short form content and leave the real writing to the professionals.

So how did I get over this? What can you do when you’re in the throes of Second Book Syndrome and feeling like you’ll never write another sentence again? Here are a few things that helped me:

Make a Plan

If you identify as a ‘pantser’ rather than a ‘plotter’, you’re probably shaking your head at this. But it doesn’t have to be a full proposal or outline. Your plan can be as simple as a journal entry, a short mission statement, a sentence describing your premise, or a note to self about what you’d like your reader to learn, feel and experience. Making a plan and reviewing it from time to time can help keep your project alive when you’re suffering from self-doubt, comparisonitis and other symptoms of Second Book Syndrome.

Give Yourself Permission

The only way to release yourself from the pressure of writing your next book is to liberate yourself. Give yourself permission to write badly. I mean, really really badly. Permission to write something that sounds nothing like what you wrote before. Permission to play, to dream, to procrastinate. Permission to research until your head is bursting. For every project, I always keep a notebook so I can write by hand and make a mess and scribble pages of absolute drivel. I can spend hours writing around the edges of what I’m actually trying to explore. I encourage you to start every new project by writing yourself a permission slip. When you give yourself permission, the words might stick and splutter for a while but eventually, they flow. After that, the magic is in the edit.

Drown Out the Noise

We’re surrounded by noise all day, from social media traffic to our own mental chatter to those Amazon reviews (gulp). It’s hugely distracting and can be a drain on your creativity and confidence. Look for ways to drown this out, whether that’s through meditation, writing retreats, long nature walks or journalling. My simplest trick is to put on some noise-cancelling headphones and turn the music up. This might sound counterintuitive but listening to music puts me in a headspace for writing without any filters. Also, as a mother who writes around her family life (the kitchen table is my office), I’ve used headphones for years to signal that I’m at work and to keep the cacophony of my kids at bay.

Get Drunk

When you have another book to write, it’s easy to feel lost at the beginning. What to write and how to say it? When this happens, I immerse myself in storytelling. The poet Charles Baudelaire famously said one should ‘Always Be Drunk’ and it’s a quote that I live by. I don’t mean Hemingway-style binges, I mean being drunk on stories. I consume books, podcasts, films, TV shows, songs, art shows, conversations, eavesdropping, everyday life. I feed my habit and my habit feeds my writing.

Focus on What You Can Control

Creativity is mostly trial and error. Art is subjective and you can’t control how your work will be received by an audience or by critics. Often, success hinges on an indefinable mix of luck, talent, hard work, timing, money, network, reputation and… did I mention luck? Through all this, the only thing you can control is how you show up. I do my best to show up for my readers in a way that’s engaging, impactful and entertaining — both on the page and in real life. Other than that, the rest is not up to me. All I can do is keep showing up.

Track Changes

When you’re editing a piece of work, it can be helpful to track changes on a document. But this isn’t what I’m talking about here. What I mean is keeping track of the changes that happen because you had the courage to put your work into the world. I screenshot comments from readers on social media who tell me my books have changed the way they think about race and identity. I save a file of testimonials from parents who say I’ve shaped how they talk to their children about these tricky topics. I also keep notes on what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown while writing a book. All this is a reminder that so much of writing (and reading) isn’t just about the product or the story but about who we are becoming through the process.

Lean On Your People

Probably the most useful thing you can do as a writer is to find your people and lean on them. Obviously your closest friend/partner/family member who enjoys your writing or offers great advice can be invaluable. But as a writer, your people are other writers and it’s essential that you seek them out. Follow #writercommunity hashtags on social media, join a writers’ group or membership, befriend other newbie authors when your book comes out. You need to be in community with other writers who get it. Especially when Third Book Syndrome comes knocking…

NaNoWriMo Writers Board member Uju Asika is a multi-award nominated blogger, former journalist and TV screenwriter. She is the author of Bringing Up Race: How to Raise a Kind Child in a Prejudiced World and the picture book A World for Me and You (Where Everyone Is Welcome). Her new book Raising Boys Who Do Better: A Hopeful Guide for a New Generation came out on June 1. You can order the book for free worldwide delivery on Wordery: https://wordery.com/raising-boys-who-do-better-uju-asika-9780241608418

Uju is launching a creative writing service for developing and aspiring writers, learn more here!

#nanowrimo #writing #writing advice #second book syndrome #inspiration #writer's life #by nano guest #uju asika

[kleefkruid]

I'm practising American Traditional tattoo design again, and it always feels odd to me to start bc unlike other illustrations where I tend to start from scratch, the whole thing of trad design is using existing designs and adding your own thing to it, either by, like I am doing here, taking over a pose, or taking an existing design, for instance a classic snake, and putting it in a different pose, or drawing something new but using elements and the general style (I'm not there yet, that's why I am doing studies)

It still feels weird bc I have the "I'm not allowed to copy other people" reflex still, even tough I have gotten better at just taking inspiration from other people, but here it's literally what you're supposed to do, the designs I'm using literally come from a flash book that has a bunch of designs in color and linework, assembled exactly for this! the authors note even ends like:

and honestly it's silly that it's my art academy mind that makes me insecure about this, while I learned there about how for most of art history you studied as an apprentice under another artists, by copying their existing work and even adding to their current work. Tattooing is just one of the last art diciplines where you get taught the trade by someone(s), and you also get schooled by people who aren't even alive... Everyone adding their unique elements, and building on the art as a whole. I think it's pretty beautiful and I hope we can bring it back to the general art scéne.

Anyway, I'm going off a tangent again instead of finishing my drawing, my apologies, they made me write too many essays at the academy and secretly I miss it. But in closing I would like to say that anyone who ever feels like they want to go off something I drew but feel weird about it, you absolutely can and I'd love to see the results even! xoxo

#illustration #tattoo flash #american traditional #my work #daily life

[annymation]

Okay, I know Valentine's Day just passed, but how would a Valentine's Day interaction go with Aster and Asha? What would each of them do for each other on Valentine's Day?

Sorry for the VERY late reply, haven't got much time to answer lately, and before I didn't have much inspiration for this one, but @uva124 gave me an idea, so here's a little Valentine's day story

Asha decided that for Valentine's day she'd make a painting for Aster, a painting of a field of purple aster flowers, with a beautiful night sky.

However, because she's quite the perfectionist, and not as skilled with painting as she is with drawing, she felt like the painting wasn't quite good enough no matter what she did. So for days before Valentine's day arrived she'd hide in her room trying to finish it, not letting Aster see it.

But then the day actually arrives and she loses track of time trying to finish it, before she knows it it's already close to night time

*knock knock*

"Asha? You're in there?" Aster asks worried from outside her room

"A-AH! Don't come it yet! I'm busy!" Asha has her hands and arms all covered in paint as she tries to hide her unfinished work behind a cloth

"I know, you said so earlier but... Valentine's day is almost over, do you wanna hang out?" Aster sounded a bit sad that they didn't even see each other earlier

Asha looks surprised noticing it's indeed sunset, she completely lost track of time "Oh no! Ugh I knew I should've used acrylic paint!" She says in frustration

(For those who don't know, acrylic paint dries way faster than oil paint, I'd know, I used to make oil paintings)

"What are you talking about" Aster says coming in the room, they see her covered in paint "*gasp!* You were painting!?" He smiles widely "I didn't know you knew how to draw AND paint too!"

"That's because I honestly don't know how to paint, this turned out a mess" She points to the canvas hidden behind a piece of cloth

"... Let me be the judge of that" Aster walks in and pulls out the cloth to see her art.

The night sky is full of white dots splattered around that do resemble stars, and the purple field of flowers looks quite messy because the flowers all sorta mixed together into one purple blur.

Aster looks at the canvas in awe while Asha covers her face in shame "It looks like a child made it, I'm sorry, I've wasted the whole day instead of spending time with y-"

"I LOVE IT!" Aster exclaimed hugging her tightly "It looks amazing! What do you mean "like a child made it"???"

Asha smiles at him, but she still feels insecure about the painting "I wanted it to be perfect"

They smile at her reassuringly "You don't have to be perfect, you just have to be you, and that's way more than perfect for me, okay?" he says while still hugging her

She blushes as a big smile stretches across her face, she hugs him as well "Okay heheh" she giggles a bit, feeling her heart flutter

"Now! It's my turn to give you a gift, come on!" Aster pulls her by the hand out of the room

They go to the cliff next to the tree Asha wished upon Aster

(I make a lot of romantic scenes take place next to this tree but come on it's a cool location)

They watch the sun set together, leaning on one another without really saying anything, just admiring the beautiful sight

Once the sun is gone and the stars start to appear, Asha says "That was a beautiful gift" holding Aster's hand

"Oh that wasn't my gift yet" Aster corrects her with a cheeky smile "OKAY GUYS! Do your thing!" Aster yells to the sky above them

Asha looks up, already excited to see what he got planned but... Nothing seemed to happen

"... Guys???" Aster asked the stars, already getting nervous they wouldn't do the one little favor he asked

Then, Asha sees it, a shooting star cutting through the night sky

"*Gasp!* You asked for a shooting star just for me?" Asha asks hugging his arm

Aster looks quite disappointed though "... No, I asked for a meteor shower, it was supposed to be A BUNCH of those, like come on, is throwing some asteroids around too hard???" They ask, frustrated that things didn't go as he planned

"Hehe you don't need to make a whole cosmic event happen to make me happy" She leans on their shoulder "I love just watching the sun set with you"

Aster feels his heart beating faster "And I love you"

"I love you too"

They kiss under the starry night sky.

A few more shooting stars can be seen passing by.

#wish rewrite #wish reimagined #kingdom of wishes #ask #asha x star boy #asha x starboy #asha x star

[lilac-hecox]

Ian realizes he may have a crush on Tommy. Tommy realizes he may have a crush on Ian. Something pushes one of them to make a move.

Ian/Tommy - Crush

--

Of all the stupid things to make Ian realize he has a crush on Tommy, it was watching the fucking Spymate movie with him and making fun of it for his show. The movie alone wasn’t what made Ian realize, but it was a vital part of the puzzle. It was hearing Tommy’s jokes, and listening to him laugh, and seeing the spark in his eyes when he found something really funny. It was how Courtney had said that he and Tommy were both keen to be deadpan, to veer on the darker side of comedy.

Tommy was interesting and hilarious and very easy to have a crush on. Who could blame Ian? It’s not something he would ever act on, especially because Tommy just got out of a long-term relationship, but then Tommy comes to him after the episode is uploaded and smiles all soft and fond and says, “That was really fun, I’d love to be on again.” And Ian feels a little breathless.

“Anytime you want,” Ian says with a somewhat nervous laugh, “consider it an open invitation.”

Tommy quirks an eyebrow and seems like he’s about to say something before he decides against it, instead giving Ian a little smile and walking away.

--

During Ian’s birthday roast episode Tommy mentions how the two of them are alike, and how the two of them are single, and something about it only highlights how much Ian is feeling drawn to Tommy. Is it that deep down loneliness that makes them compatible with each other? That begs the other internally to ease that self-doubt and insecurity.

Tommy is exceptional at playing confident, but Ian has seen the extremely rare moments that his real insecurities come out and Ian sometimes feels it is like looking in a mirror. All comedians at one point or another use their pain as fodder for their art, Anthony is a living breathing example of that, no matter how many times Ian tells him he’s not upset, doesn’t hold anything against him.

--

At Smosh’s 18th birthday party someone brought a cooler of alcohol. Now, granted they are a fun workplace, but it is the mid-afternoon on a Friday on company time. Still, a few drinks are had and Ian maybe has one White Claw, and when they find out that Food Battle 2023 has hit the trending page and Ian finds himself wrapped up in people hugging him, he quickly realizes that one of those people is Tommy, and Ian is looking up into his eyes, and Tommy is smiling down at him with a fond yet goofy and all too earnest grin.

It would be so, so easy to kiss him. That’s the moment Ian pulls away.

He briefly retreats to his office to clear his head, get his mind right. That was too close, the temptation to kiss Tommy too much for him at the moment. He is alone when he hears a knock on the door. Ian opens it and finds Tommy standing there, a long and lean line in his doorway.

“Hey,” Ian says, a little breathless.

“You slipped away so fast,” Tommy says as a way of explanation, “wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” Ian says, “Maybe I had too much to drink?”

“You had one White Claw and I’ve seen you do shots of whiskey,” Tommy says with amusement in his voice, “can I come in?”

Ian backs up and lets Tommy into his office. Tommy shuts the door behind him. Ian feels nervous, too hot in his sweater for California, for being this close to Tommy.

“This might be one big HR violation but…did I catch a vibe back there?” Tommy asks.

“A vibe?” Ian croaks out, sure his face is getting red.

Now Tommy looks nervous, “I just…it felt like we were having a ‘moment’ or something?”

Ian is quiet and Tommy slowly turns as red as Ian feels.

“Nevermind! Please forget this conversation ever happened and let me know if I need to start submitting my resumes to other companies? Do you think Anthony would give me a reference letter? I-“

“Wait!” Ian says, interrupting Tommy’s nervous babbling.

Tommy does wait, turning to face Ian.

“Fuck, okay, there was a vibe or whatever.”

Tommy gives a half-smile, “It’s cute when you say it.”

“Because I’m the ‘dad’.”

“Because you’re cute,” Tommy corrects.

He steps closer, closes the space between the two of them. He smells like some cocktail that Ian can’t name.

“So, again, huge HR violation but would it be okay if I kissed you right now?”

Ian looks up at Tommy and nods, “Um, yeah, definitely okay.”

Then Tommy meets Ian half-way, and their lips press together, and Tommy gently shifts Ian’s party hat back so it doesn’t poke him in the face as they kiss.

#tommian #ianbowe #polysmosh #smoshships #my writing #crush #my fic #my fics #fan fic #fan fiction #ian's day #Ian's day 2023 #i think i love this pairing?? #rarepair #ian/tommy

[cloveroctobers]

Richie Jerimovich — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: Love that most of y’all are coming around when it comes to Richie but what’s understood doesn’t need to be explained! Anyways after watching this eye-opening season, it was easy to be inspired for this piece so I hope you enjoy this.

SYNOPSIS: Richie’s found his purpose and doesn’t want to reflect on the past (much) but is looking towards a better future…which may include baby steps to outsiders but it means everything to him.

WARNINGS: language ofc it’s the bear & me we’re talking about, mentions of drugs & anxiety, mentions of slight sexual themes, and a little heaviness but mostly two goof balls expressing their love for each together.

Decided to throw a prompt into the mix as well so I’m using: “can we make cookies?” “it is 92 degrees outside, no!” 

*GIF BELONGS TO: @p3iyin9 *

꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱**

[July 10th]

[4 months, 14 days later…]

It’s her birthday and she’s here.

She’s not alone and Richie’s half expecting her to be here with some new guy, some guy that’s more around her age and has their shit together. It’s a bitter thought to have but he can’t lie and say that it didn’t occur, the constant insecurity of not being good enough.

He knows it’s his own fault, he’s the one who pushed her away not long after she welcomed him between her thighs during a brutal winter. The details were vivid even with his eyes wide open, burning into space. He wanted to be angry being so intimate with someone else when there was always the thought of his first love on his mind.

Tiffany.

His ex-wife.

He was still hurting from being officially divorced for about a year now (separated for three) and she was moving on he learned. It was bound to happen, a woman with a heart like her’s? Richie wasn’t sure why he was still holding on to hope for them to rekindle their relationship. He wanted it to work but he was the constant screw up and Tiffany deserved better…he just didn’t expect it to be with some construction owning guy named Frank.

Richie already didn’t trust him.

It was the common tale of curing a broken heart, trying to get underneath someone else to get over someone, to feel anything else but the continuing ache that sat on the left side of his chest.

Freya Mazari was someone Richie met not long after “the thing with Tiff,” happened, outside of a bar that was famous for bourbon and risqué wall art. He spotted her outside at the start of summer on a surprisingly quiet sidewalk cracking her knuckles—out of a possible bad habit, blue bruise the side of an apple on her cheek, and a unlit spliff tapping against her thigh afterwards as she seemed to be mumbling some lyrics to a Busta Rhymes song.

That was the first thing that had him sold on their soon growing friendship.

Freya’s surrounded by a group of diverse women who are laughing it up over drinks while Freya is standing; embracing Sugar and falling into smile-filled chatter with the blonde. Richie instantly feels a pull to head over there himself but be figures he can just get entail from Sugar later. Carmy’s been over to Freya’s table already, handing out a, “it’s on the house,” birthday special but they still weren’t on the best terms really. It was strictly business now and that was something Richie never wanted to be part of.

A strict relationship with a family member—except for uncle Jimmy of course, he really had no choice with that one. That night back on opening day in May, seemed to be something they couldn’t get pass just yet and that was another hard pill for Richie to swallow.

Carmy messing up something good on the surface level and taking it out on everybody else with his mouth, changed the trajectory of their relationship.

Would it be forever? Richie couldn’t tell you.

Nonetheless he wasn’t here at the bear to talk about need-a-diaper carmy. Right now? He needed to figure out how to handle this…this distance with the woman he considered his close friend.

He’ll deal with that family shit in due time, don’t worry.

“Who are we hiding from?” A familiar voice causes Richie to clench his eyes shut.

He doesn’t have to peer down at the shorter tatted man who’s behind him as he says, “I’m not hiding from nobody.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re creeping on…Freya! Yeah Freya over there. Do you know it’s her birthday today? We had the best birthday hug, she may even be a better hugger than me.” Fak informs the taller blue eyed tux wearing man.

Richie pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “of course I know its her—what did I tell you about touching things that don’t belong to you?”

He battled with himself countless of times this entire morning to call her up but ultimately fought against himself to just do it.

Fak hummed, “hey, she’s my friend too! And doesn’t belong to either of us but we’re included in her life and it’s her birthday! I’m sure she’ll be happy to receive a birthday wish from you too.”

“I can’t say I agree with you on that.”

“Why not? Oh…it’s because you guys did the dance with no pants—

Richie’s hands immediately slaps over the animated man’s mouth and starts talking to him calmly, “what did I say? To not ever mention that shit here at the original bear.”

That’s Richie’s new spin on the restaurant name, yes there are shirts on the way!

Patience is key.

Fak hummed as Richie scolded him. It wasn’t that big of a deal in the first place on Fak’s side of things. He was just thrilled that Richie was involved in being intimate with someone he cared about for once…compared to the others that shall not be named. Fak thought Freya and Richie could be something great but he wasn’t aware what Richie was so scared of.

“Yuck! Did you just lick my hand you—

Richie shook his hand about, halting himself from saying something insulting. Sometimes it just slipped out but he was doing much better and it was usually a place out of love when it came to Fak. He was like a puppy in training, always excited and doing whatever came to mind but most of the time you had to lure him to take a fucking nap.

“Yeah I did! Just go talk to her! Make her dreams come true.”

“Fuck are you talking about? Do I look like Hall & Oates to you? Like I’m her dream guy or somethin’?”

“Hey, I thought we weren’t doing this. I don’t like you talking down on yourself buddy! You need to go into the restroom and give yourself a quick pep talk in the mirror.” Fak ordered, pointing in the direction of the restrooms.

Richie blew out a raspberry at Fak’s encouragement. He didn’t take him serious but once the man started shoving him about, Richie was all elbows flying and slap-fight inflicting between the two.

Sydney calls from the kitchen, “Hey! What’re you two doing? Aren’t you supposed to be up front?”

“Sugar’s up front.” Richie informs with a slight turn to face the braided woman.

Fak immediately straightens up, not providing much answers, “Yes ma’am! I mean chef.”

Sydney blinks at the two, wondering why they’re not moving, leaving Fak to take a few deep breaths before slapping Richie on the chest as he mutters, “Taking one for the team again! You’re welcome and get it together!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Fak.”

Fak shrugs his shoulders and spins to leave the entry way of the kitchen, while the pace of the kitchen has started to slow down the movements are still precise. It’s late, after ten pm and there’s about three to five parties left, which means closing time should be wrapping up within the next thirty to forty-five minutes.

Business was booming still almost two months later but the rush always seemed to slow down once the late nights arrived. The Bear was formerly known as mainly a lunch or late lunch spot but after this new reno, dinner became much more important.

“Richie,” Sydney steps away from her spot behind the stand, “Everything good?”

Richie exhales as he mutters, “Freya’s out there.”

“I heard.”

He fidgets then.

“Have you talked to her? It’s her birthday.”

“I’m aware, I put in the word for Marcus to give her a little piece of home since I also hear she’s a little homesick. Mkhabez.” Sydney tells Richie, as she eyes the jittery man.

Richie chews on his fingernail in thought, “right that’s some type of cookie. Almond cookie? She told me about how her uh, Jidda used to make them for her as a little girl with her siblings back in Algeria.”

Sydney nodded her head, “yeah…are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“Not to be an asshole but you look like you’re gonna pass out or hurl and if you are, please give me a fair warning so you don’t ruin my coat.” Sydney cautiously took a step back as Richie used the back of his hand to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead and not because of the heat in the kitchen.

Richie scoffs, “No need to worry, Chef. I’m not gonna empty my belly or pop a smooth criminal lean. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. I probably need to pop another xan.”

“Uh, that’s probably something you shouldn’t mention to me.”

“Why? You’re not gonna snitch on me, are you?”

“No…but I might snoop through your stuff and fry them all in a pan.” Sydney honestly says while she folds her arms as Richie peers at her.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could,” Sydney challenged, “if you need a minute take it but you can’t run forever.”

“Who says I’m runnin’?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” Sydney states, “and you just need to rip whatever this is off like a band aid, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“And what if I don’t?”

Sydney pauses with her arms still folded before she peeks around at the remaining chefs in the kitchen, Carmy not in sight before she whispers back up at him, “then fuck it, at least you tried.”

Richie can’t help but to snort out some laughter before he claps two hands down on Sydney’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze, “Well thanks for that, Syd.”

“Sure, whatever. Now get out of my kitchen.”

“Our!” Richie points.

Sydney nods her head from side to side with a playful roll of her eyes as Richie clicks his tongue at her. Down the hall he goes in search of the bathroom to in fact, give himself a pep talk but most importantly to calm down.

Richie’s disappeared for over half an hour. He didn’t realize it until Carmy barged in to see him sitting on the bathroom sink.

“I said I’m in here!”

“Yeah, with your ass in the sink.” Carmy’s tone is monotone but quick to point out, “which is unsanitary by the way.”

Richie can’t help but to roll his eyes as he hops off then, fixing his tux before he slaps his face, bringing himself out his daze. He spins back around, getting another good look at his reflection for what felt like the thousandth time but he exhales and quietly excuses himself from around Carmy who appears as if he wants to say more.

But he doesn’t.

Richie’s steps echo in his ears as he circles around to the dining area. He hasn’t realized how long he locked himself away until he’s in the room, half of the chairs flipped up onto the tables with lofi music playing through the speakers.

He can only guess who picked this shit.

A blonde pregnant lady probably.

“Damn.” Richie rubs at his mouth in frustration, briefly noticing the booth Freya previously sat in was now empty.

That didn’t lift the weight to now know that she was gone for the night. In fact it made him feel worse, that he didn’t have the nerve to just walk up to her and talk.

You know? like friends were supposed to be able to do.

His skin is red as he pinches at it in aggravation, until he picks up on the sound of heels slowly clacking against the floor. His breathing hitches as he lifts his head to meet Freya’s dark sharp eyes.

“Hey,” Richie chest feels tight but he breathes, “I thought you scrammed outta here with your girls.”

She shakes her head as she keeps some distance between the two, “some of them have early mornings tomorrow and the rest I told to just go home. I was hoping to run into you actually.”

Richie swallows as she steps forward, “why? To smash some cake in my face?”

“Now there’s an idea.” She lightly laughs and it sounds like Christmas bells, “but no, I wanted to see you.”

Richie quirked up a brow as he carefully moved out of the way so Freya could grab her things, “…really?”

“Yeah, we have some things to talk about.” Freya slips her bag over her shoulder, “Like you ghosting me for one.”

Richie rolls his head up to the ceiling, “yeah, about that—

“Let’s go for a late night walk.”

“How about a late night drive since I know your feet are hurting or about to be soon,” Richie looks at Freya’s fit, knowing she wasn’t much of a heels wearing woman (although she wears them very well) preferring sneakers more than anything on her feet.

Freya laughs as she sways a bit, probably a little tipsy, “you’re not wrong about that…so get your keys and take me to yours.”

“Mine,” Richie questions while pointing to himself, “I dunno what kinda guy you take me for—

“Oh Shut up, I’m not giving you any of this birthday cake.” She poses in her fitted dress, “I’m only propositioning a conversation between Richard and the birthday girl.”

“Yeah you giving this a whole title isn’t helping the innuendo, baby.”

“And neither are you in that tux,” Freya smoothes down the arm of it before placing her hands back on the strap of her bag, “Didn’t get the chance to tell you last time face to face but you clean up very nice, Richard.”

Richie gives a grin as he says, “Give me two minutes.”

Which leads to the pair pulling up to Richie’s condo/apartment. It’s normally too quiet at night for his liking, especially when he’s not jamming out with Eva here. After unlocking the front door, he holds his arm out for Freya to lead the way, which she has no issue doing, a natural sway in her steps as she walks down the foyer bare footed now.

“I’ll put the AC on.” Richie rushes out as Freya makes herself at home, placing her shoes against the couch and plopping down on the couch with a sigh.

He messes around with the finicky thermostat until it chokes out some cool air from the vents in the ceiling above, battling against the humidity in his two bedroom home.

“What can I get you? I’ve got beer, Gatorade, tap and—

“Orange juice?” Freya asks as she lays down on the couch, one arm is held up and over her head, eyes closed for a moment.

“Yeah I’ve got that too,” Richie responds from around the corner in his kitchen.

It’s about ten minutes until eleven and Freya is all yawns as Richie arrives back into the living room, holding two red cups, one filled with ice and OJ just how Freya likes it and one just filled with the orange liquid. He sits down beside her as she sits up and moves over to give the man some room in his own house.

She’s gulping the cold juice down and licks at the top of her lip before placing it down on the side table, “you need coasters.”

“Ah, just use some toilet paper.”

Freya crinkles her nose, pressing her fist into the side of her head as she rests back against the couch, just eyeing Richie who is looking forward at everything else but her. The cold air is wheezing but there’s relief filling the room, in contrast to what Richie maybe feeling.

“This silence is killing me, Richard!” Freya pokes his thigh with her seashell painted toe, “just talk to me already, will you?”

“Okay…how’s the birthday going?”

Freya honestly says, “I’m a little sad my mum didn’t call.”

That gets Richie to look at Freya then. Although their friendship was still fairly new, he knew that seemed unlikely for Freya’s mother out in North London to forget her eldest’ birthday. Of course it was possible, Richie didn’t have the best relationship with his own neglectful mother, hasn’t spoken to her in years or knows where she even fucked off to but it seemed like Freya at least communicated with her mother across the ocean on a daily basis.

“Has your brother or sister been in contact with her?”

“Oh yeah, she was in the background on FaceTime with my sister. Not even a hello but it’s probably because I told her I couldn’t send her any money a few weeks ago. Whatever.” Freya shrugs her shoulders.

She was a dental hygienist assistant and didn’t care for her job much but the pay and benefits were decent enough in this economy.

Freya was originally born in Algiers to a father that worked in labor and manufacturing while her mother was a stay at home mom, mostly due to a disability she faced as a child. Money wasn’t the best growing up so it wasn’t until Freya was about twelve when her father moved her, her mother, and her baby sister to London where they stayed with Freya’s maternal aunt for a few months until they got into their own flat. Her brother stayed with her father for awhile until they soon started making their visits.

Eventually her father decided to let the brother stay there while he continued making money and hoping for better work in London. However there were a few opportunities but it seemed like Freya’s father kept turning it down, just to find out he was participating in extramarital affairs behind her mother’s back. Not long after that, her mother stepped up to work with aching joints at a sporting goods store to provide for her three kids.

Freya as the eldest was also used to working underneath the table so it was no different in the UK. She learned quickly how to provide for her family too.

After that they learned her father had fallen ill due to his diabetes and needed his leg amputated. When Freya was twenty-one and living in Toronto with a boyfriend, he was living in London with his sister-in-law and died from congestive heart failure. Freya’s upbringing wasn’t always so cloudy, there were sweet moments with her parents that she liked to hold dear to her heart but the reality is, you’ll always bring something from your childhood into your adulthood good or bad.

“I’m sorry. That sucks ass forreal.” Richie comments and Freya just deeply inhales.

“You know what else sucks?” She exhales, “Not having you around to talk to.”

Richie presses his elbows into his knees in thought, “I uh—I’m sorry about that too. I didn’t mean to, what did you say back at the spot? Ghost you? Yeah. I didn’t mean to do that, I was just dealing with some shit inside that didn’t really have anything to do with you.”

“So the sex wasn’t trash and I didn’t scare you off?”

“What? Are you kidding?!” Richie’s wide-eyed as he quickly looks back at Freya, who’s face is full of a smirk, that it makes the dent on the center of her chin more prominent.

He soon laughs, “you’re fucken annoying you know that?”

“I’m supposed to be. You’ve met your match,” Freya winks.

“It—I’m gonna be real with you. I panicked because it was you on top of—it was you—and not just some random one night stand. With those I never really felt anything unfortunately for me but with you—

“It was like the Fourth of July-ly-ly.”

Richie scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I’m all here for your confidence in my skills truly but shut up.”

Who was being annoying now? She was clearly talking about herself but whatever floats this man’s boat—which she already knew—BUT she’ll save you guys the details.

“I’ve been quiet for months and I’m just trying to help fill in the gaps, sheesh!” Freya flicks her black parted hair back over her shoulders.

Richie shakes his head at the thirty something year old woman who didn’t mind rambling even when she wasn’t tipsy.

“It’s just you know, I didn’t think I would ever feel something again after the d—the thing with tiff.”

Richie still couldn’t say it, although Tiffany was officially steering her life in the direction of a another man. He still couldn’t say “divorce” because then that would mean he would have to start his own healing of a end of a special era with a woman he deeply loved and created a precious life with.

It just fizzled out and damn it hurt.

“And you did with me,” Freya voiced and was understanding, “glad to know that wasn’t only one sided.”

Richie finds himself asking, “Did you tell that no good locked up son of a bitch about it?”

Freya’s ex was some abusive guy that landed himself in jail right after New Years and it wasn’t for him stalking, harassing, or hitting Freya. It was from attempted armed robbery and now he was serving time for it and Freya finally felt like she could breathe for once.

Richie knew the feeling of being held back.

Counting your breaths are actually helpful, shout-out to anger management!

“No. Did you?”

“That jagoff can choke!”

“I mean, did you tell Tiffany?”

“Fuck no! I needed to see how we were feeling about it first and it’s not like she tells me her every move—besides her getting engaged to some other guy.” Richie’s almost glaring now at the fact of the matter before fixing his tone some, “Which I guess she gets points for letting me know and if the bastard is gonna be around my kid full-time.”

Freya spoke, “You just never thought there would be someone else. I get it.”

“Never! For either of us, then you came along and then came Frank and it’s a constant loop of emotions but I’m happy to be in Eva’s life and to feel something other than dread when I step into the original bear.” Richie’s plucking his nail against the plastic cup, slightly anxious at being this vulnerable.

However Freya wasn’t one to judge much, sure she had her opinions and can get loud from time to time when she’s pissed off or passionate but she was usually open to hearing all perspectives before she said her peace. Richie’s view was not one she spoke much on, she listened, really listened like he needed someone to and offered words when it was time for him to hear them.

“That’s something to look forward to.”

“Yeah but I still miss you.” Richie rubbed at his face before saying, “I miss our friendship and I don’t know what to do about us after what we did…yet somethin’ inside is telling me that nows not really the time to be jumping into anything. I’m just figuring things out and I know that’s gotta count for something.”

“Which is fine, richie!” Freya says with a light shove to his shoulder, “I wasn’t chasing you down to force you to be with me or anything! I gave you the space you clearly needed. I know we both got our own shit to deal with but being with you helps put that on pause for awhile …even if it’s as friends. I’m here whenever you need me, you wanna vent and scream about shit, have at it. You don’t wanna talk? Let’s have a dance party instead. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I’ve got two, take your pick!”

Richie snorts at this but he honestly appreciates it. He almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend.

“Just don’t cancel me out for months at a time, and expect things to be normal without a conversation, you hear me you prick? I’m your friend, you can talk to me ya know? I want you to feel safe with me, confide in me.” Freya holds Richie’s navy eyes against her ink colored ones and Richie has to slap a hand over his mouth to hold back a sob.

Richie chokes out, “ugh! Why are you making me feel things?!”

“Because it’s cancer season and I love and respect our friendship. You held me down in my lowest and I’m gonna keep uplifting you during yours and your growth.” Freya places a hand over the one that’s resting on Richie’s own knee.

Freya goes on, “It’s not our time to be romantically involved and I’m quite okay with that but that doesn’t mean I suddenly stop caring for you.”

Richie pressed his chin into his shoulder, staring at her underneath his lashes, “Wow…you sure you don’t wanna make-out just to confirm that?”

“I knew you liked how I look in this dress.” Freya playfully runs her nails through his buzzed hair, “say it back though, tell me you care just as much.”

There’s that “words of affirmation” shit people talk about right? Garrett would probably find this amusing.

He gently rests a rough hand against her cheek, “You know I do but I’m gonna say it anyways since you wanna be mushy as fuck right now. Thanks for everything and coming into my life, I care a lot about you and us. Your heart is beautiful and you’re my friend who also happens to be a total smoke show! I know you must feel amazing in that dress, you wear it well.”

“Thanks, good looking!” She winks.

“Act like you know,” Richie smirks.

“Oh, please!”

Richie hyped himself up with a roll of his shoulders, “Look good, feel good.”

They share a laugh staring at each other with Freya balled up beside him and Richie just enjoying her company. He wasn’t sure what to make of this but he didn’t have to have all the answers tonight. This Freya also confirmed.

He was just happy to be around her again and to have her be part of his journey.

She pops up then, “Can we make cookies?”

“Didn’t you just have some back at the restaurant?” Richie asks before saying, “It’s 92 degrees outside, no!”

“That was much earlier, though.” Freya argues, eyes darting to the side as she thinks about it.

It really was a lovely day to spend her birthday, although she wasn’t on a boat somewhere in Monaco or Miami…it was a somewhat chill day.

“Didn’t you already have some cookies at the restaurant?”

He knew she was a hungry drunk but she was nowhere near drunk, shockingly on her day.

“So? If you don’t know how to make some basic chocolate chip cookies just say that.”

Richie scoffed, “What?! Who said that? I make the best got damn cookies ever, just ask Eva.”

“She’s probably sleeping?”

“…fuck, you’re right.”

He definitely would have called her up if it wasn’t passed her bedtime.

“Well? What’re you waiting for?” She kicks his thigh again.

Richie pressed his forehead against Freya’s as he hollered, “Game on, Queen Elizabeth!”

“Don’t you ever!” She tapped his jaw and pointed at him.

Richie moved his jaw along blinking, “I’m sorry! I forgot.”

Thats how the late night evening included making homemade cookies, with Richie hovering over his phone trying to read off ingredients to Freya as they made a mess of his kitchen.

“Where’s the dark chocolate?” Freya searched Richie’s cabinets and drawers while Richie tried to keep his eyes away from the kitchen door, where he had Freya propped up against with him down on his knees.

“What? I said salt?” Richie’s eyes followed the woman as she moved around the kitchen as if she were being timed, “I dunno where the hell you got dark chocolate from.”

“We can do dark chocolate since it’s superior and a pinch of sea salt?”

Lines appeared against the skin of Richie’s forehead as he raised his brows, “How about hell no, Betty Crocker?”

“Who made you the number one cookie critic?” Freya gibed as she gently closed the drawers shut with her hips.

Richie taunts, “your mother!”

Middle fingers and a sarcastic smile later were handed right over to the 6’1 man, “Piss off, Richard!”

“Well…whadda want to do? Eva and I ate up all the last of the candy I had here. She might be coming to see you soon actually but don’t tell tiff that if you happen to see her, alright?” Richie slaps the palms of his hands against his kitchen counter.

Freya let’s out a dramatic sigh as she begins pacing on her side of the counter. She stops to lean her elbows against the counter and looks at the plastic large bowl in front of richie. Still sighing Freya reaches over to use the smaller spoon that was off to the side to dip into the batter.

Hey, Freya was no baker or chef but she liked looking at the consistency and details of things. Turning it to show to Richie, she takes one finger and flicks the spoon back so the batter can fling forward and stick right on Richie’s nose.

She’s cackling at the image of Richie closing his eyes shut in disbelief. His tongue goes out then to lick some of it off before swiping it away with his fingertips. He stares hard at a laughing Freya, who has her head thrown back, hugging herself while Richie is focused on his next move.

He’s carefully taking his jacket off now, smoothing it down before using his long limbs to toss it over at the dining table top on his right. Freya doesn’t notice this as she’s wiping the corners of her wing-lined eyes, still closed as she’s almost snorting now, skin of her nostrils sinking in a bit, like she’s squidward or some shit as she carries on laughing.

“You think you’re so funny don’t you?” Richie asks with a palm full of flour now.

She’s still laughing as she nods her head, too full of giggles to get any words out.

Instead of Richie sprinkling some salt, he throws flour across the counter right to the side of Freya’s face, “Well I’m funnier, asshole!”

That gets Freya to stop laughing then. She stands up straight and it’s Richie’s turn to fail to cover his own laughter with his fist.

It was on then.

A flour fight began between the two friends, coating most of the kitchen with white powder.

“I think you threw salt in my eye you turd?!” Freya’s holding her eye now, after this has gone on for at least ten minutes.

“Shit, I’m sorry! Everything is starting to look the same.” Richie’s coming to her aide now, fanning the air as he steps to her, hands reaching for her forearms, “let me see.”

Freya fools him, “Gotcha!” Before whacking him in the neck with a whisk.

“Ow! Hey you’re fighting dirty, Frey!” Richie scolds before snatching a wooden spoon making Freya eye him wildly, “uh huh let me see you try to win this battle now.”

“I’m definitely gonna win, whether you like it not, Richy Rich.” Freya got low, ready to aim at Richie’s torso since she had that to her advantage being shorter than him.

Richie blows a raspberry, tapping the wooden spoon against the palm of his hand, “you must not know the strength of a wooden spoon and my wrestling skills, sweetheart. I got the team to championships!”

“When? In 1948?”

Richie tightens his eyes at this before they’re in a fencing match now. Which doesn’t last long as one of the two lost their footing due to the flour covered floor.

“I think I broke my ass.” Richie groans holding his back.

Freya’s laughing again as she’s resting right on top of Richie, “I’m glad I don’t have that problem, flat ass.”

“I don’t appreciate you slandering what I lack, some of us weren’t blessed okay?” Richie sasses as he wraps a hand around Freya’s waist to sit them both up.

Freya cooed at him, pinching his cheeks while Richie rolls his eyes. They sit in silence with freya on his lap as they take in the sight of his kitchen now. Flour on the upper cabinets, flour even on Eva’s personal drawing table, flour of course covering the counter, flour all over the floor, hair, face and their clothes.

“Great…now I gotta clean this up!”

“Eh, maybe later yeah?”

“Later? Well what else do you have in mind since we didn’t actually make those cookies you wanted so bad?” Richie waved his hands about.

Freya makes an explosion in front of Richie’s face, his round eyes following her fingertips for a moment before she says close to his face, “I have a better idea, it’s actually a good one.”

Richie was half expecting Freya to get him to break out into a dance routine like last time to Madonna’s, “Material girl,” but he was sure the man above was probably tired of their shenanigans tonight.

So that’s how he ended up here, covered in flour with him watching as Freya made herself comfortable on his couch again, head pressed against her folded up hands.

One eye pops open almost like a jumpscare, “are you gonna stand there the entire night like a creeper and just watch me sleep or are you going to join me, Richie Lawrence?”

Richie scratches at his head in confusion, “stop with the whole middle-name name drop, you’re making me think of my bastard dad. And I’m not sure what you want me to do here?”

“Make yourself comfortable, it’s your house.”

“There’s a bed on the other side and a shower…”

“So you’re gonna make more suggestions on my birthday but then say respectfully a romantic relationship isn’t what you want out of this on my birthday? It sounds like you want to give me a certain gift on my birthday to end this birthday party.” Freya rambles, now sitting up on her elbow.

Richie squints, “how many times did you just say birthday?”

“Get over here!”

“God, you’re getting bossy in your old age.” Richie jokes as he sits down by Freya’s legs, who swings them to the floor so Richie can scoot in behind her.

He keeps his hands and feet where he can see them, staring at the back of Freya’s head and he can smell her sweet but floral scent. Richie takes the time to digest how this feels, with Freya in front of him radiating off a comforting warmth even when she snatches his arm to rest against her waist.

Richie is just waiting then for the anxiety to kick in but it doesn’t arrive for the rest of the night. Which makes him sink further into the couch, tightening his hold of Freya. His nose then presses down into her bare soft shoulder blade, right where her round mole sits and exhales.

“I’m proud of you.” Freya croaks out, ready for sleep, “and you should be too.”

And that makes Richie’s heart swell. He always wanted to be good at something but wasn’t sure how to make a career out of it. He had to find his footing in this world constantly and slowly he felt like he was beginning to locate it. They say it’s in your daily routine if you’re unsure and engaging with all sorts of people was something richie didn’t mind being part of.

It felt natural to him.

Holding Freya felt just the same but she didn’t need to know that just yet. He loved physical touch whether you were his family or not, it was the best form of love Richie wanted to give and receive.

He didn’t realize he squeezed her tighter against him at her words before he presses a kiss to the back of her head, “Happy birthday.”

A smile graces her lips.

In the early hours of July 11th, the sky a faded dim blue begins to peak through Richie’s living room curtains, revealing that a new day was among them.

Richie’s always been a early riser since sleep hardly existed according to the bags underneath his eyes. It had to be around 5 in the morning and he knew he would be ready for some coffee soon but this time he enjoys the silence. He feels Freya roll back against him, arm looping around his neck as she stretches in her sleep.

“Morning to you too,” Richie greets, “Question for ya, how’s bell-pep the iguana doin’?”

You heard that right, Freya was a “Guana-momma,” who she named after a vegetable specifically and Richie was ready to baby sit the guy at any time—as long as it didn’t freak Eva out too much but he doubted that. She had his blood in her veins.

Freya shushed him straight away, removing her arm from around his neck to curl that same arm to press the back of her fingers against his lips, “When I step up in the place, ayo, I step correct.” She starts before moving those fingers to create a wave up in the air.

It only made sense to Richie for her to be rounding off lyrics early in the morning, especially when he was asking questions and she wasn’t sure if she even knew her name just yet.

“Woo-hah, got them all in check.” Richie proceeds, head lifting a little to see if Freya’s eyes were even open as she rounded off lyrics.

Freya concludes, “Go to sleep.”

Enough said.

“I’ll try.”

The sight of flour sticky limbs entangled between two reconnected friends on another summer’s day went like this: cheek pressed against her’s, his facial hair pricking her skin which she didn’t seem to mind as snores actually escaped Richie’s lips, with his hand gripping Freya’s that was clutched to her own chest as their bodies gently rose in deep slumber.

The cares of the outside world were put on hold once more and Richie envisioned that this must be what heaven felt like. Nothing but a bit of light right in front of his eyes or in his arms to lead the way.

Cheers to some fucking clarity!

Sorry for the foul language dude or person or divine power up there…but Richie was thankful for it all.

꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱**

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #Richie jerimovich #richard jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x oc #ebon moss bachrach #neil fak #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto #carmy berzatto #sydney amadu #summer prompts #queued #the bear s2 #the bear season 2

[astrovian]

Richard Armitage on playing Thorin Oakenshield for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Chronicles

The first meeting I had with Peter, Fran and Phillipa was the casting. I was given a scene to read that was actually a construct - it wasn't from the book. It was at this point that I became really excited by the idea, that the book was going to be the backbone of a much more fleshed out, well-rounded story. The scene they gave me to read was Thorin talking to Balin about who the Dwarves had once been, what they had become, why the Wizard had come to him with the map and the key, but that he didn't feel he had the strength to do this. In one scene, the writers had captured exactly what his character was all about - his dreams, his regrets, his insecurities, and his power.

Throughout the filming process, I was able to bounce my ideas around our forum. Often, ideas would spring from drafts of scenes being 'workshopped', or in progress. As we all grew to know and understand Thorin, the collaboration became easier. The way the character looked was very much in Peter, Fran and Philippa's hands; the way he moved, spoke, and delivered the ideas on the page were mine and Tolkien's. I was inspired very much by a particular pencil sketch of John Howe's, particularly the hands, eyes and nose. I felt they weren't dissimilar to my own. There was also a gentle, pensive attitude in the picture which I hadn't seen in Tolkien. It gave me a useful colour to paint with.

The most exciting part of collaboration though, isn't when one sits down to negotiate for ideas to make it into the script or film, but when they appear in the script at the very moment when they are desired. This happened a lot. This is when I felt we were all in tune. The lines never had to be learned. I suppose Peter, Fran and Philippa were hearing my voice when they wrote a scene - another great compliment - and when imagining that scene, I was in tune with the flavour of neo-classicism that I felt our writers were enjoying: the Dwarf kingdoms felt like the great Roman empires, and the literature and philosophical ideas were in line with Greek tragedy, at times Shakespearean. I felt that it was appropriate to allow myself to wander down that path, after all Thorin was heading for a kind of megalomaniacal insanity, which is a difficult thing to play without embracing that 'full throttle' style of art.

I always imagine chracters who are defined by their history. If it's not there than I will inevitably construct a detailed biography. For Thorin this was very easy as Tolkien had given so much material to us through various other sources in his literature, but I still needed to investigate a more domestic biography; 'What do Thorin and Dwalin "chew the fat about"?' or, 'What was Thorin's relationship with his sister Dís like?' I felt that might inform how Fili and Kili would feature in Thorin's life.

The difficulty with Thorin is that he enters the story on the edge of failure, but with everything to win. I remember thinking when I first read the scene for the casting, that here was a character who felt like a dying ember, yet with the energy and hope to reignite into the furnace that once powered this great warrior. But, he has all the potential to fail.

I connect personally with that last sentiment. I was never really sure if I could pull this role off; I felt secretly that many others also felt the same and it's one of the reasons I could never sit down on set (I am a pacer, apparently). I could never rest.

Thorin is the same . He hasn't slept easily in his bed since the Dragon expelled them from Erebor. Thorin's grandfather went mad and his father disappeared a year ago to the day when the Quest begins. The desire for revenge upon Smaug and also on Azog, who beheaded his grandfather, has been bequeathed to him. That's a huge burden to carry, and one that can't be shared.

The glory of returning his people to their homeland is also in the mix, along with the personal revenge on the slaughter of his family. Also, buried deep inside of Thorin is a dormant lust for gold, a lust inherited from the line of Durin, and just as the Dragon who will be woken when the King returns to the Mountain, so too that dormant illness inside of Thorin will awake. He knows this and he fears it.

So really, the 'engine' which brings Thorin to lead his fellow Dwarves to their destiny is fuelled by the past but is 'front wheel' driven, towards their future, their destiny, their prophecy. It's a great place to imagine a character because they are always in flux, pulled towards something, which they fear, springing from a rage-fuelled past.

#richard armitage #the hobbit #hobbit #thorin #thorin oakenshield

[andithiel]

End of year wrap up

I am so super late to this, but I’ve done this in the last few years and I think it’s a nice tradition to look back at the accomplishments I’ve achieved. 2022 was a very bleak year writing wise, and I’m happy to say that I’ve slowly started to get my mojo back a bit. My AO3 wordcount for 2023 was 36,936 words, but I’ve also posted some shorter things on tumblr, and I actually made a spreadsheet to track my progress and tally all my written words, including those that get deleted and also those not yet posted, and according to the spreadsheet I wrote 10k more. I still have a lot of WIPs hanging around in my drive, but I’ve managed to finish some of them, and I feel like I have more energy and excitement to finish some more, so, here’s hoping that 2024 will be the year that I actually end up with fewer WIPs at the end than at the beginning (something I tried back in 2020, before the world went up in flames).

Under the cut is what I published in 2023:

January 

Fading in Love (locked to logged in users) (Drarry, Explicit, 5k) I wrote this as a belated birthday present for @sassy-sassy3, it’s an 8th year secret relationship with a lil’ sprinkle of magical theory regarding the Dark Mark. 

February 

I decided to try a few prompts for HD Candyhearts and ended up having a lot of fun with them: 

Second Date AO3 tumblr (Drarry, Teen, 1,3k) with an insecure Draco after having spent the night with Harry.

The microfic Taste the love (for the prompt Sweet treats)

How deep is our love? AO3 tumblr (Drarry, Teen, 762 words) featuring established Drarry bickering and absolutely ridiculous Valentine’s cards.

The secret language of flowers AO3 tumblr (Drarry, Teen, 2k) featuring the classic tumblr post the fuck you bouquet.

Pillow microfic with Draco being a little shit

Charm me 8th year drabble FWB/secret relationship sort of vibes.

March

Take that ride (Drarry, Teen, 1,6k) I finally managed to write a fic idea that’s been scrambling around in my brain for ages. I wanted to create a mood and a feeling with this and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

I also wrote a short fuck or die drabble that I’m super proud of: Let me show you  

June

Hold back the tide (Drarry, Teen, 2k) Another idea that’s been with me for years that I finally got out (despite not having written the fic that preludes this).

October

Thunderstruck (locked to logged in users) (Drarry, Explicit, 8k) My god, my beast, this fic resisted me and to top it all off I got covid right when I was about to finish it. I struggled with this so damn much, also wanting to create a vividness that doesn’t really come natural to me, but I’m so happy with how it came out in the end. Plus I got to collab with the amazing @fictional who, as usual, knocked it out of the park with her glorious art.

November

The Potter Malfoy bathroom war of 2007 (locked to logged in users) (Drarry, Explicit, 8k) Another fic that’s been with me for some time, although “only” a year. I saw the prompt for last year’s Suds when claims had closed, so I tried to forget about it but it wouldn’t leave me. I had so much fun writing this, I love writing Harry and Draco bickering and fighting with each other when we as readers know it’s basically their form of foreplay. 

December

When it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night (Drarry, Teen, 6k) This was also a fic one year in the making. I started writing it to post on last New Year’s Eve, but I couldn’t finish it in five days (to my own astonishment), but I’m happy it got to marinate for a while because I added a scene with Scorpius that I’m very fond of.

I wasn't tagged by anyone and I'm sure people have already done this, but if this means you get another tag, consider pointing me to your own year wrap up so I can see it! @sassy-sassy3 @fictional @mystickitten42 @uncannycerulean @goblinmatriarch @phdmama @crazybutgood @dragonbornphoenix @wo2ash @rei382 @nv-md

#fic year in review #ao3 wrapped #andithielwrites #drarry

[my-name-is-bunnyfoxy]

For the TMNT Ships Ask Thing:

Caseynardo (Leo x Casey)

and/or

Aprilnardo/Leopril (Leo x April)

I love these 2 ships so much. I know they are kind of rarepairs (though, MM gave a lot of love to Leopril and there has been a lot more Leopril stuff. Which is great!), but I love them.

They are very dear to my heart. Personally.

Caseynardo 2012:

I've never heard of it until long time later

Now I'm just kicking my feet

YESSSSSSS

Silly goofball jock x serious and quiet nerd RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SCREW LEORAI

TO MAKE THIS BETTER LEO IS PRETTY MUCH BI IN THE SERIES (He's stated to have a man crush on Captain Ryan)

THE WAY THEY LOOKED AT EACH OTHER IN THAT ONE EPISODE

I'm aware they were kind of trash talking big foot in a foot too big but they were STILL bonding!!!

Please read Breaking the Ice by @fabuloustrash05 . I stopped studying for a few minutes to just read it and I'm proud. Disclaimer don't ditch your studies to just read fanfics that is not my message.

Anyways the fnafic solified my love for the ship.

Opposites attract

I can also see them as two friends who act gay but actually aren't or maybe they are.

Or two guys who seem gay but~ (inset bisexuality)

It's amazing. A solid 10/10.

2012 Aprilnardo:

We sadly don't get too much content with them but like-

I remember I was kind of introduced to this ship because I followed one of my idols who shipped it and made fanart of it and it was on DA. This was back before it got deactivated my account.

I LOVE 'Eyes of the chimera' episode. They were basically supporting each other all the way.

Ngl the transfem Leo lovers made me love it even more because I love me some lesbians. TMNT is already filled with some lesbians so why not add more!

I love how April is always by Leo's side and we see how much she cares for him.

I love the idea that April used to be into Space Heroes and then Leo got her back into it.

(For those who headcannon as both autistic) they would so totally talk and rant about their hyperfixation.

I wish though they had more moments together.

They are legit underrated.

The ship will get 9/10 for me.

I'll include rise and the mutant mayhem version cause why not.

Rise Leo x Cassandra:

Meh not bad

It's okay at best

I do feel like they could have become very close friends if Cass left junior under Leo's care in the bad future.

They are both reckless and over energetic and yet still have a lot of insecurities and issues that they have to cover it up.

Not a bad idea I suppose.

I guess 4.5/10. I don't know. We didn't get much of them so I mean.

Rise Leo x Junior:

ABSOLUTELY NOT

DNI IF YOU SHIP THEM

LEO WAS LITERALLY A FATHER FIGURE TO CASEY

"But I'm shipping the teen version of Leo with junior not adult-" NO. IT DOESN'T MAKE IT ANY BETTER.

ALSO IMAGINE DATING YOUR FRIEND'S SON. THAT WOULD BE SO DAMN UNCOMFORTABLE.

AGAIN, LEAVE MY PAGE IF YOU SHIP THEM.

Negative 0/10. Get the f out.

Rise Leo x April:

I've seen and been bombared by a ton of art regarding this ship on YT.

Controversial opinion: It's cute.

They both have the same energy and another controversial opinion but, Leo has a way closer relationship with April then Donnie. I've kind of seen more scenes with them together then with her and Donnie.

Though just like last time I prefer her being an older sister figure to him that Leo looks up to.

They both care for each other and love each other no matter what.

April pretty much comforts the turtles about their insecurities so she would do the same with Leo.

Probably a 6/10 or something. Again, prefer them as siblings but don't hate it. I'll kind of indulge in it tbh-

Mutant Mayhem Leo x April:

Better then 2012 Donnie's lmao-

They do have sweet moments

It's sweet they went to prom together

Mah boi was simping real hard

I feel like they should have gotten more scenes

I do feel like maybe April and Leo won't really happen or be cannon though. I don't know man. I'll see how it goes in the Tales of TMNT that will happen in 2024.

I'm really hoping they don't make it into a toxic love triangle or make it creepy or toxic.

I'll take this ship anyway as one of the only few good Leo romances.

It took them after 1987 to finally give Leo a good love interest.

the way he looks at her AHHHHHHHHH

The fanart of them together is really cute and wholesome (that made me remember that I still had that art request from you just sitting in my files- I didn't draw it because I didn't see MM yet- I'll try and get to it at some point I swear-)

Hope we get more scenes of them together

I'm unsure where I sit with this ship just yet. Again I'll see how it goes in the show.

For now, 7/10. I feel like a bit too high but you know what, whatever. The ship is okay so far.

Now...

Is anyone interested in Caprilnardo~?

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fandom #rottmnt #tmnt 2k12 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leo #tmnt casey jones #tmnt april #april o'neil #tmnt april o'neil #rottmnt april #rottmnt april o'neil #rise april #rise cassandra #rottmnt cassandra #rise casey #aprilnardo #caseynardo #leopril #rottmnt aprilnardo #rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt leo #rise leo #rottmnt leonardo #rise leonardo #caprilnardo #tmnt ships

[beautifulpersonpeach]

It's hilarious to me BPP that all the people saying HYBE doesn't want Jimin nominated along with Jungkook in Western awards have nothing to say when Billboard reported HYBE submitted all BTS members for consideration and nominations at the Grammys. Thank you very much for this blog. You nice keep going.

***

Oh I find it amusing too. I've been around long enough that it doesn't surprise me the sorts of theories that gain traction with certain types of people. But it's still amusing to watch this happen every couple years, with every new wave of people who join the fandom.

I keep saying, all the theories from solo spaces reflect their insecurities and anxieties rather than anything that's actually happening based on the facts as we have them. Jimin not getting a nomination doesn't mean his work wasn't submitted, but because akgaes live in a miserable, sick terror that everyone is out to get their fave, including his band members and HYBE, they presume Jimin's lack of nominations must be because HYBE intentionally neglected to submit his work to control him, boost their bottom line (literally counterproductive ergo irrational but I digress), or because HYBE hates him. There's no long-dated history or verified pattern of behaviour regarding award submissions to support that theory, but that doesn't stop people already afraid based on scenarios they've relived over and over in their heads, from latching onto it for dear life.

When faced with irrefutable proof that HYBE has submitted Jimin's work for the Grammys, i.e. a confirmed example directly applicable to BTS, and not an extrapolation based on what happened to another artist in another award show years ago as akgaes were asserting for Despacito, it does nothing to dislodge their conspiracy theories. It barely even registers in the web of mismatched accusations, vitriol, and hate they've weaved together in the last 6 months about Jimin, Jungkook, BTS, and HYBE.

Like another Anon said, trying to reason with them is about as effective as trying to talk to a Q-anon believer who thinks there's truth to Pizzagate and it's proof children are being trafficked by the rival political party they hate.

Belief is a very fascinating thing.

People throw around words like "cult" in fandom but the groups of people that consistently show this thinking and behaviours:

a propensity for conspiracy,

doomposting,

strict adhesion to groupthink to the point an akgae can write '"I know all and see all" in a bid to coerce their followers to not frequent my blog since I'm a taekooker who hates Jimin, and their followers will just nod their heads and think that's a very normal thing to say....

caustic hateful language,

people usually located at the fringes of any main fandom space,

....and other sociopathic behaviours, these sorts of people are the least self-aware and yet most eager to throw that word around. Yet another quirk of things you see in fandom that make this space oh so entertaining.

Anyway, good luck to the members. It makes me proud to see them all able to present their art for consideration at the Grammys. All seven members have worked hard and deserve to have their albums given a fair chance, and I hope they all succeed.

#bts #jimin #jungkook #jikook #yoongi #namjoon #hoseok #taehyung #seokjin #bts chapter 2 #grammys 2024 #bts fandom #bts solo stans #fandom behaviour