#and i haven't read like half the books i own 😭

[luvwestwood]

❝ DOUBLE PENETRATED ❞ - Choso Kamo, Suguru Geto

— YOUR OLD HIGH-SCHOOL CLASSMATES DO YOUR NIPPLE PIERCINGS.

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw(18+), piercer! choso/suguru, threesome, throat-fucking, resolved sexual tension, choso has a tongue piercing, suguru lip piercing, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, face slapping, dp (v/anal), creampies, cum eating, taking polaroids while fucking, filth, MENTIONS OF PIERCING PROCEDURES!

₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I fear that I may have gone crazy with the fucking. choso turned out to be the one with the tongue piercing, but dw.. sug has a lip piercing. cause I wanted to focus on suguru more, after some of you loved my previous piece about him! this is a repost, I experienced a few formatting issues. ty for 900! <3 s/o to my dear rya for coming up with this amazing title 😭

4,562 words (15m read)

Finally, it had come after all; the day you were to get your nipples pierced. Standing in front of the studio, you take a deep breath— half of you wanting to back out, but the other just screaming 'fuck it.'

As soon as you enter, a chime goes off above your head, the man behind the counter hauling his eyelids up to see who it was.

He seems familiar, you thought. Long, raven colored hair; and those piercings... "..Suguru?"

His head cocks forward; like some meerkat, "Is that.. who I think it is?" Suguru hops off the stool, stepping away from the counter. Bringing you in for a big warm hug, he pulls away; taking a good look at you as he does. A silver glint catching your eye; it seems that he had gotten a lip piercing done, a metal ring hugging the flesh.

"Damn, you look good. I haven't seen you since what, high school grad'?" he warmly smiles, his forearm still resting on your back. Both you and Suguru had left high school on a good note; he had tend to hang out with the more, known people in school— although he was someone you could tolerate.

Flustered, you divert your gaze; Suguru walking back around before you could speak. "..Yeah, I never knew that you worked here," moving closer towards the countertop, you rested against your two hands, leaning slightly.

"Mhm, you probably remember Choso? He works here too. I mean, he owns this place." Suguru's eyes busy scanning the bookings, you blink frantically, trying to remember who 'Choso' was. Choso Kamo, perhaps? He adds on, "..You coming in for an appointment? For what?"

"..Choso? That's not really ringing a bell. And uh, I'm here to get my.. nips done..." your voice trails off slightly, embarrassed that your old high school classmate sees you after years; but here, in the middle of getting your tits pierced.

He smiles slightly, alarm bells ringing at those two exact words coming out of your mouth. "Ah.. Choso's gonna be heartbroken for sure if he finds out that you've completely forgotten him." He marks your name off the list of bookings, standing up straight. "Being that you were so quiet back in high school, I never expected you to get your tits done."

Warmth rushing through your body, you nervously let out a laugh, "..People change, I guess.." You purse your lips, mentally slapping yourself at how awkward the conversation has turned.

"Well said, how 'bout you come along with me. Choso's gonna be helping you out today." He steps out of the counter once again, gesturing you to follow behind him.

You both walk through some curtains leading to the back of the studio, Suguru bringing you into a room with dark interior; a leather piercing bed taking up space in the middle of the room.

Another man was sitting on a wheeled stool beside a counter, his back turned to you. Seems like he's busy sterilising some equipment..

"Cho," Suguru calls out, the man glances behind his shoulder, fully spinning the stool around in surprise. "Look who I've got with me!"

Choso's eyes widen, mouth gaped after having not see you for a few years. He looks, so different. Too different. His hair a bit longer, but he decided to keep it down. It was no longer tied up in two pigtails like back in high school; both him and Suguru have turned into.. Good looking men; real men..

"..Choso?" you quietly call out , a type of tension lingering throughout the air— a room with two guys and one girl about to get her tits pierced by her old high school classmates, ones that she last expected to see.

Suguru slouches onto the sofa in the corner, hands holding a polaroid camera. "Our old classmate here has come today to get her tits done," He sticks one eye into the viewfinder, snapping a quick photo of his surroundings. "Also- If you don't mind, we tend to take polaroids of our customers after the finished piercing. Your face won't be caught in it, don't worry."

"Uh yeah, that's fine." You flashed a smile, before placing your coat and bag on the armrest beside Suguru, behind you could hear Choso finally speaking.

"..If you wanna just take a seat right here, and make yourself comfortable." He pats on the leather bed beside him, Choso stealing a quick stare down your body, noticing what has changed about you over these past few years. Pretty face like always, a fatter ass.. and..

"..Kay," hestitant, you scoot yourself onto the bed, leaning your head against the soft cushion. You breathe deeply, nervous about the fact that they were literally about to see your tits. But hey, it's their job, right? ..Why is Suguru still here though?

Choso takes note of your anxious demeanor, adjusting the lamp above you. He goes and slips on a pair of black latex gloves, before spinning back around; stumbling with his choice of words. You dart your eyes to the Choso making an array of strange noises, until he finally knows what to say.

"I'm gonna need you to uh, take that off." He points a finger at your shirt, his hand withdrawing immediately. You quickly understood what he meant, sitting yourself up on the bed.

"Right, yeah.." Your hands like frost from feeling timid, they graze against your skin as you took off your shirt; you had chosen not to wear a bra today, as it felt like it made sense. Your nipples instantly go erect from the cold touch of your fingers.

...And a nice pair of tits. That's the last thing Choso was meant to say. He swallows some spit, offering to take your shirt to keep it safely to the side, Suguru looking at you with the corner of his eye, grinning.

You lay back on the bed, the cold leather causing you to shiver all over again. Choso wheels the stool closer to you, his hand holding an antibacterial wipe. "..Alright, I think we'll go with a straight barbell. It's one of the safest options." Nodding in response, he goes on with the procedure.

He gives the surface of your tits a quick wipe, making them jiggle slightly— Choso tries his best to not let his mind trail off somewhere else. He's pierced multiple before but, something about you just had him whipped.. Especially after not seeing you for ages.

He looks at you for a moment before leaning in, trying not to smile at you all nervous underneath him; feeling your body tense under his touch as he firmly grabs your tits to leave markings with the pen.

"..Just relax yourself for me," he says, lowly, your feet stopping their kicking down the end of the bed. You study his face closely as he focuses on leaving perfect marks over your nipples to indicate where the piercing will go, his hot breath slightly fanning over your skin. You could hear Suguru in the background humming to the music on the radio, tapping away on his phone, and the same polaroid resting on his lap.

Choso pulls away allowing you to take a look at where he had drawn the markings. It took him a lot of strength to keep himself from latching his mouth onto your breasts then and there. "Approved?" He clicks the cap of the marker back on, tossing it to the side.

"..Approved," You give him a small, affirming smile as he gets the other tools ready. A clamp in his one hand, and a needle in the other, he holds them out.

"It's gonna hurt like a bitch for a few seconds, but it will be over before you know it." Reassuring you, you could only nod once more; licking your dried lips as you had ran out of words to say.

You try not to shut your eyes as you feel the cold clamp clutch onto your nipple, thinking that it would be bad etiquette if you did. Instead, you turn your head to the side, seeing Suguru still relaxed on the couch. He grins, but before you know it; the stinging of the needle hits you, a mewl coming out of your mouth.

"Good girl, just breathe," he coos, "I'm almost done with the other one." You bite down on your lip, certain that you had left a bruise behind. What felt like more than minutes, the stinging comes to a halt; numbing taking its place. You could feel Choso lay his gloved hands on your bare stomach, letting you know he had finished. "All done, you took that like a champ."

Turning your head back to it's original position, your eyes travel down to your chest, seeing the metal barbels inserted into both nipples. You smile, Suguru coming close to the bed with the polaroid.

"Oh, they look good." Suguru puts out, "I'm jealous of whoever gets to see these." His lips curl into a smirk as his eye goes near the viewfinder. You disregard his comment, busy looking at your freshly pierced tits.

"You happy with them?" Choso asks, wiping away at some equipment.

"I love them, thanks, Choso." You say, itching to poke at them but both men attempt to grab your wrist, causing you to look up; your eyes alternating between the two.

"Don't be touching them all the time," Suguru says sternly, meanwhile Choso on the other hand says something completely different.

"If.. you know, someone wants to, latch onto them- don't allow it," Choso continues, his blood curdling at the thought of someone else taking his own work for their pleasure. "..It needs to fully heal."

Cautiously, you nod, retracting your hand to lay it down on your side. Suguru switches up the topic, excited with the camera in his hand. "Ready to take a few pics? I'd say smile, but you aren't in them anyway."

"Of course," you sit up on the bed, perking your tits out as Suguru focused the lens on them. Choso bunches your hair up in his fist, bringing the strands behind your back so that the camera could get a clearer view of your chest. His grip delicate, but your stomach churns at how his long, slender fingers scratch off your nape.

You blink at the bright flash going off, the film peeking out of the slit at the top. Suguru takes it, flopping it around in the air for the picture to come through. He sets it down on the table nearby, with an intention to take more.

"Could you move yourself a little bit to the left?" Suguru's eye still stuck in the viewfinder, he orders you around with a gesture; his only sight of you being through the lens.

"..Like this?" you respond, after scooting slightly to the side; your hair still in Choso's grip, which accidentally feels like a harsh tug as soon as you move away— immediately, he lets go.

Choso mutters quietly under his breath, "Ah..- sorry."

Suguru brings the camera away from his face, his free hand suddenly grabbing onto the side of your waist; positioning you like a delicate doll. Your breath hitches, taken aback by his sudden movements.

He puts the viewfinder up to his eye again, snapping another valuable photo of you. The film comes out of the slit again, Suguru carrying out the same routine he had done with the previous picture.

Exhausted, you lay back down on the bed; though Suguru sees this as a perfect opportunity for another pic. "Hmm... Just- stay like that, yeah?" He says, the bright flash filling your vision with white.

You giggle, feeling as if you were a model taking boudoir, fully naked. You arch your back against the leather playfully, your chest protruding and extremely close to the lens, Suguru smiling and continuing to take more photos.

Choso remains silent as he slips the gloves off, a painful strain forming against his pants as he watched you pose so lewdly in front of him, you weren't the same girl as the one he knew back in high school.

Multiple photos scatter the table; Suguru having to go and fetch more film from the drawers.

Both of you had moved to the sofa in the corner, multiple pictures of you kneeling, biting your finger with your tits perked out to the camera; all pieces of film had covered parts of the floor. You were having a bit too much fun.

Choso, his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. Refusing to be provoked, he stands up from the stool; making his way over to the sofa to take a seat beside you.

Suguru praises you, picking up a few of the photos that had finished processing. He remains anchored between your legs, towering over your body that was kneeled on the sofa. "They came out great, don't you think?" He holds one closely for you to see, your head tilting to take a peek.

"That one looks good," you point, Suguru approvingly nodding in response; although Choso makes a sudden comment, one that caught you by surprise.

Toying with the ends of your hair, Choso twirls them around his finger. The slight touch from his fingertips sending chills down your spine. "..So, who's gonna be lucky enough to see them?" he says, calmly; his voice not showing one bit of repentance. He was certain with his choice of words.

Confused, you turn to him, suppressing a titter. "..No one, I just really wanted this for myself.." you say, Choso nodding slowly; feeling slight relief at your answer.

“Probably can’t wait to show them off, huh?” Choso’s words sharp, digging into you like daggers; “..Just walking around, tits poking through your shirt, so everyone could see..”

All of a sudden, he yanks your hair back, and you let out a wail; your eyes meeting with Suguru’s above you. Seeing him grinning at you all helpless from the top, his hand reaches down to rest on your face; thumb caressing your cheekbone.

Looking at Choso— your eye moving to the side, his expression blank; but clearly, he was enjoying every bit of this.

“..I’d say we put her in her place,” Suguru says, his voice growing low; observing how easily you succumb to their touch. You could feel Choso’s grip let loose in your hair, and instead, his lips find their way to your neck; a hum crawling from his throat.

You whimper, Choso leaving a trail of wet kisses down the soft skin of your neck, softly gasping as he managed to move you around, laying you down against the edge of the sofa.

“W-wait, Choso..” you whispered, his lips moving from your chest down to your stomach, being careful to not meddle with your freshly done nipples, his hands roaming all over the gummy flesh on your waist.

You watch as he goes down on you, until a sudden grab at your chin lures you away, “Up here baby,” he purrs, your eyes misty— Suguru’s lips lock onto yours, tongues intertwining with each other as he groans into the kiss. You manage to swipe at his metal lip ring in the midst of it; the kiss so filthy and disgusting, nothing but neediness controlling it.

Choso on the other end pulling at your pants, allowing you to shimmy them off; leaving you in your underwear. Cock harder than ever, he licks against the material, the metal orb on his tongue poking through— he had a tongue piercing? He just couldn't wait to have you. A wet stain remains on the cotton, as he nibbles at the fabric before tearing it apart fully.

You let out a breathy moan into the kiss with Suguru, the ball on Choso’s tongue prodding at your clit, he alternates between licking and sucking. Occasionally, he plants kisses on the inside of your thighs; excessively groaning as he takes in all of you.

His large hands wrap around the plump of your legs, bringing you closer to his face; his grunts tickling you each time he slurped, eating you out as if you were his last meal.

Everything going on felt sinful; two men playing with you at the same time, but oh—did you want more.

Suguru pulls away, the camera placed on the ground; a long string of saliva connecting you two. Hands trembling as he reaches down for the buckle on his belt, undoing it swiftly— not fully pulling his pants down but instead grabbing for his cock; letting it hang freely from his boxers.

Your eyes frantically blinking at the size, so girthy, and long; you grab onto and tug at Choso’s strands as you felt him fuck into you with the tip of his tongue, your mouth gaping— Suguru seeing this as an advantage to stuff your mouth full of his cock.

A guttural sound crawling out of his throat, the warmth that your mouth enclosed over his cock doing his head in. His hips move back and forth, head falling back as he dug his fingers into your scalp, bobbing your head up and down his length. “Fuck.. just like that,” he groans, looking down at you taking him whole. “Good girl, how about we train this throat of yours..”

Suguru pushes into your throat as deep as he can go, your eyes brimming with tears; the tip of your nose tickled by his pubes— “Just breathe baby, breathe..” He says so easily with a devilish grin, enjoying the pure panic on your face.

He stills in your throat for a few seconds before completely pulling your mouth off his cock— spit running down your chin, his entire length glistening with it.

You let out a cry, your head crashing back into the sofa as you feel Choso stick two digits into you, his tongue relentlessly gliding over your clit as he does so, enjoying every single one of your desperate mewls.

Suguru rewards you with a slap on your cheek, a stinging mark stays behind. Lightly tapping on the side of your face, he compels you to open your mouth; dropping an orb of spit into the hole. “Swallow it,” and you obey, sticking out your tongue to prove it. “So obedient..”

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, before Choso hauls his head up from between your legs. Suguru’s hands clawed in your scalp; allowing him to move you around like a ragdoll— his strength making you stand up from the sofa.

Your head tilts to one side, Suguru leaning closely to your ear; “Go and give Cho' a ride, he’ll be upset if you leave him out.”

Trying to peer your eyes down to take a look at what Choso was up to, you see him struggling to undo the buttons on his pants, so eager to spend yet another minute with you.

As soon as he gets them off, he takes his thick cock in his grasp; giving it a small jerk, spitting into his hand before rubbing the slobber all over.

“..Go on, make him feel good,” Suguru whispers, pushing you closer towards Choso— you land in his lap, mind-fucked; you immediately grab his face, leaning in for yet another sloppy kiss, Choso melting into your touch.

His hands trying to position his tip at your entrance, he pulls away from the kiss for a moment; “Come on.. Sit on it,” his eyes look up into yours, almost as if he were begging.

You glance behind you, sinking down onto his cock without thinking twice. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it all together. Choso places a few kisses on your jaw, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of your tight walls closing in on him.

“Doing so good for me,” he whispers against your skin, “Start to move when you can, just be mindful of your piercings.”

You nod, furrowing your brows and lips parting, foreheads leaning against each other as you start to bounce up and down, his entire length filling you up and stretching your hole out, you endlessly chant his name like a prayer.

Choso’s cold hands running through your hair, trying moving loose strands away from your face. A snap goes off behind you, a familiar white flash blinding your sights— Suguru taking a photo of this pornographic moment, he takes the film and tosses it onto the ground before bringing his attention back to you.

A hand snakes onto your shoulder from behind, possibly Suguru. A pair of hands belonging to Choso resting on your hips as you moved up and down his cock, his head falling heavy into the sofa’s cushion in pure gratification.

The hand on your shoulder rushes to your mouth, covering it as you felt another cock enter your ass; a string of muffled moans trapped against the palm of Suguru’s hand.

Two cocks fucking into you at the same time, your eyes roll to the back of your head; feeling both tips in your guts, Suguru’s cock pounding into you harder than Choso’s.

You were just full of dick, and you loved it, Choso fighting the urge to hold onto your tits bouncing in his face; knowing it would be a bad idea to. He didn’t want to risk it, possibly infecting anything.

Your ass rippling against Suguru’s pelvis, you let out a long, laboured moan, your toes curling at the sensation. Suguru’s hand reaches under your chin, his voice almost mokcing you. The tips of his fingers tap against your jaw again, “You love being stuffed with our cocks, don’t you?”

You could only nod, your eyes closing as you indulged in the pleasure; mind completely blank— fear arousing in you from how feral Suguru has become; but it turns you on even more.

“Use your words, tell me you love it. Tell me.” Suguru firmly grips onto your face, moving it in all sorts of directions.

You hiccup, tears stained with hot tears. “I-I love your cocks so much, I.. I need more,” managing to choke out, he somewhat seems satisfied enough with your answer.

He peels away from you, and so does his cock, your asshole completely stretched out; your holes aching. You try to stamp your legs, squirming from all the different things coming at you .

Choso slides out of you too, his heavy cock slapping onto his abdomen. He didn't allow himself to cum. Nor did he let you. “You hear that Suguru? The slut said she wants more.” Fucked like a whore, you felt empty and lost without any cock inside of you.

Choso pushes you aside on the sofa, getting up and making his way towards the end— Suguru swapping positions with him; this time he aligned his tip with your hole, taking over as he fucked you from behind.

Suguru’s hand presses down on your back, forcing you into a more defined arch, his hips thrusting into you mercilessly, practically fucking you into the sofa. You cry into the cushions, pleading him to slow down; your hand reaching back. Suguru snapping a quick photo of his cock moving in and out of you— getting a perfect shot of you bent over in front of him.

The crisp sound of the film leaving the slit rings through your ears, before you could hear the photo falling onto the ground.

Choso guides your head back up, bringing you to eye level with his cock, forcing your mouth back down his length. He was on the verge of losing his mind too— did he want to keep you to himself forever, so he could fuck you every hour, day, week.

You were being stuffed both ends; gagging noises emitting from your throat as Choso fucked into your front like a flesh-light, Suguru on the other end drilling into you like a mad man. His leg props up onto the sofa for leverage, allowing himself to rut into you deeper than before.

You whimper all over Choso’s cock, buckets of spit spilling down his shaft, then to the ground as he used your mouth as he desired, your holes at both end not being shown any remorse.

A cacophony of moans and skin slapping echoes throughout the room, along with the faint melody coming from the radio.

“I-I’m gonna cum in this pussy,” Suguru whines, his nails digging into the skin on your hips, clutching onto the flesh trying to fucking you back onto his cock as he chased his orgasm.

A creamy ring forms at his shaft, his hands reaching down to your clit to lazily rub circles, urging you to cum as well. “Let it out baby, m-make a mess all over me.”

You grip onto the sofa’s arm rests, letting out a long groan over Choso’s cock again, your body spasming as your orgasms washed over you. Your legs shake and jitter, both feet kicking in overstimulation.

Choso pulls you by the hair off his cock, red tip slapping against your lips as he jerked himself off to his high, forcing his length back into your mouth— ropes of warm cum coated every inch of your throat.

He slides himself out for a second, the remaining spurts of his load decorating your face. “Pretty..” He breathes out, chest heaving. Choso leans in, nastily kissing you on the lips, getting a taste of his own cum off your tongue as he does.

The sight so lewd, both your saliva and remnants of his load trickling down your mouth. You try and swallow the rest, Choso smiling, so proud.

Suguru ends up bottoming into you, his hips rocking deeply in rhythm with each time his balls tighten; your brains fucked to the point that you could only think about cock.

He spills his own load into your womb, completely filling you up with his thick cum that was bound to leak out of you as soon as he pulls out; in fact, you were stuffed with cum on both ends.

Suguru strikes a spank on your ass, tenderly massaging the flesh afterwards, spreading your cheeks as he slowly slides out; cock heavily hanging as his eyes watched his cum drip out of your stretched hole.

He reaches for the camera, taking one last snapshot of your fucked up holes as a sentimental memory, grabbing the film and tossing the camera to the side.

Suguru bends down towards your pussy, licking up a bit of his cum out of you before mixing it with some saliva, spitting the ball back into your pussy, rubbing it everywhere with the help of his fingers.

Choso walks around, slouching back into the sofa; Suguru gently seating you down beside him, being mindful of your trembling legs.

All three of you remain seated, focused on trying to calm you down; the studio was littered with film everywhere, the room stinking of pure, filthy sex— bodies warm, sticky, and covered with sweat. Everyone trying to recollect themselves; faces blushed with red.

You could feel Choso’s hands run through your hair, remembering how hard they were both tugging on your scalp earlier. Suguru also rubbing your thigh up and down, soothing your nerves. Your body ached, completely fucked out of your skin.

“..I think we should have you in for a weekly dick appointment instead.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jjk smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru #geto smut #choso kamo #choso smut #choso kamo smut #jjk x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x female reader #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu choso

[nouvxllev]

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

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

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

[snazzilystoopid]

Hello there, fellow Ninjago fan....

I wonder, are you looking for Ninjago fics to read..?

WELL GOOD NEWS I'M HERE WITH A LIST OF AMAZING FICS FROM QUOTEV JUST FOR YOU!! <33

List is below heheh

Also just real quick: Some of these fics are not updated often/not updated anymore! These are all fem readers/ocs, but if they are gn or male I'll lyk. These are also catered to Cole lovers (ofc) but there are some other pretty good ones too!!

Dandelions~ Lloyd x Reader

https://www.quotev.com/story/15255742/dandelions-LloydG-x-reader

This is a reader insert, and I think is a gn reader if I recall. I haven't read it in a while, but I do remember really enjoying it! It's rarely updated, and has under 100 pages currently, but it's worth the read. Promise!

Element of Wishes~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/15032547/ELEMENT-OF-WISHES-LEGO-Ninjago

I LOVE THIS FIC SMM!! This is an OC fic, following the story of an elemental master of wishes, who also just so happens to be half-djinn! It currently has over 200 pages as well. You read through the events of Ninjago as normal, but also get to read interesting parts about the mc's own personal quest to find answers! SKYLOR ALSO PLAYS A BIG ROLE IN IT AND I LOVE THAT SM (Most of s1 has been skipped though). Cole is the current love interest, the author can sometimes leave updating for like 4 months lmao, but they have started updating regularly again! One of my all-time favourite fics! I'M CURRENTLY READING IT RN AND I LOVE ITTT

The Master of Wind~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/7985682/The-Master-of-Wind

I another one I haven't read for a bit, but let me tell you: I LOVED THIS BOOK WITH A BURNING PASSION OMG. Its also pretty long, with like 900 pages lol. I generally love the concept of a master of wind, more so because I love Morro, but anyways, this book is spectacular. The love interest is Lloyd, and its a bit of a slow burn, but its worth it. Sadly it hasn't been updated for 3 months now, but I am hopeful that the author will update it soon!

Just An Illusion~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/14405232/Just-an-Illusion

Another short-ish book with under 100 pages, but I really loved this one!! The fic begins at the Tournament of Elements, and I don't think there is a current love interest. But seriously the way I read and reread this book is acc insane 😭 The fic unfortunately has been left for 8 months as I think the author is taking a break, but I'm pretty confident that Just an Illusion will continue!

Stoneheart~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/14081498/Stoneheart-Ninjago-Masters-of-Spinjitzu

THIS BOOK WAS AMAZING. I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT. The fic follows the story of an OC, who isn't from Ninjago, and who ends up joining the Ninja. Another MASSIVE book with over 800 pages and chock-full with a bunch of amazing original characters, and you're in for a good ride, trust me! I don't think there is a definite love interest, but it does seem to be leaning towards a certain character hehe (and no its not Cole unfortunately). Its being updated regularly-ish and I promise you will NOT regret reading it!

The Infinite Series~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/14276031/Infinite-Serenity-INFINITE-SERIES-BOOK-1

Another fic I enjoyed, this tells the story of the reader who died and had been reincarnated into a show from their childhood, LEGO Ninjago (obviously lol). There are two books in the series, the first one is linked above and you should be able to find the second one from there. I don't remember if there was a love interest or not but I do remember that the mc's personal story is really cool and so so creative! Book 1 had around 400 words and book 2 has like 300, however it hasn't been updated in 7 months 💔 still worth the read!

The Last~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/10806407/The-Last-LEGO-Ninjago-Masters-of-Spinjitzu-X-Reader

THE LAST. I LOVED THE LAST SO MUCH OMG. IM JUST SO SAD IT HASN'T BEEN UPDATED SINCE 2021 😭💔. This book is a Reader insert, where the mc is the last of their species, and joins the Ninja team, though I don't remember if there was a love interest or not, you'll have to read to find out because I really don't remember haha. Though the book has just over 100 pages, there aren't many chapters, and I don't think it's past s1 yet. Its still a good read, however, and I think a lot of you guys would like it!

The Colour of Hope & The Race Against Time~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/15708101/Ninjago-The-Color-of-Hope

THIS FIC IS EPIC. ITS AMAZING. It follows the story of a girl who becomes a target for a mysterious gang, and ends up in the care and protection of none other than the Ninja! (The Colour of Hope takes place between Day of the Departed and s7). The love interest is Cole, and the writing as absolutely phenomenal! This is a series, and the first book is linked above. The next book has only recently been made, so I have the upmost confidence that it'll be regularly updated, since the first one was too! Book 1 had around 250 pages I think. I PROMISE. You will wanna read it.

The Indigo and Black Series~ OC(s)

https://www.quotev.com/story/11634295/Indigo-and-Black-Pilots-Rise-of-the-Snakes-and-Destiny-of-the-Green-Ninja

I ENJOYED THIS BOOK SO MUCH! This follows the tale of not 1, but 2 mcs who are both OCs! One is the master of Time, the other, the master of Forces + Shadows. A Three-part series with 3 books, and the love interests are Cole and Kai! (Sorry Kailor fans 😭) The last book was updated around 6 months ago, but I did some digging and turns out the authors are still working on the next book, so I hope it comes out soon!

Kiss Me Baby~ Reader Insert

https://www.quotev.com/story/14954138/Kiss-Me-Baby-Ninjago

Suprisingly, this is actually a fic based on the universe of the Ninjago Movie, and I really enjoyed it! The reader is a confident teen who joins Ninjago High, but is secretly the mystery person who managed to get Lord Garmadon into prison, putting a stop to all his attacks on Ninjago City. A short book with under 100 pages, but it is also going through a rewrite if I recall. No definite love interest, but there is an implied one (once again, *sigh* it isn't Cole). Also, just throwing it out there, I was awake at like 4am reading this 😭

The Truth~ OC

https://www.quotev.com/story/9767787/The-Truth

THIS BOOK WAS LEGENDARY. I REREAD IT ALL THE TIME OML I LOVED IT. This book is all about a girl who somehow knows every member of the Ninja, though they don't actually remember her themselves. It begins at the Tournament of Elements, and runs right up to March of the Oni, where it has stopped being updated for quite a few months now 💔. The love interest is Cole, and honestly can I just say, this book was written SO WELL. Like I wish I could write like that 😭😭

Aaaaand that is all! If I DID have to pick my top 3, it would be as follows:

1ST~The Truth

2ND~Element of Wishes

3RD~ The Colour of Hope & The Race Against Time

I personally think these ones were/are the most engaging and exciting! I'm not saying the others were bad though. You'll wanna read them all. Trust me.

I hope yall enjoy these fics! <33

#ninjago fic #ninjago fanfiction #cole brookstone #lego ninjago #lloyd garmadon #ninjago fanart #ninjago #ninjago fandom #ninjago headcanons #cole ninjago #kai x reader #cole x reader #ninjago lloyd #lloyd x reader #fanfic #dragons rising #ninjago crystalized #day of the departed #tournament of elements #ninjago x reader #ninjago x oc #ninjago rewrite #ninjago hc #master wu #lord garmadon #nya jiang #jay walker #zane julien #skylor chen #march of the oni

[raytorosaurus]

I hope it’s okay to ask you but you seem to know everything about MCR so you might know. But I read recently that they were the designated bbq band on their first Warped in 2004 so they had to cook for everyone. Have you ever heard of that being the case? It just feels like a weird thing, with Ray apparently being a hermit in the bus and Frank being vegetarian and Gerard being blackout the whole time. I can’t imagine Mikey or Matt Pelissier holding down the fort.

haha yeah apparently so! warped tour was designed to be as efficient to run as possible because its primary purpose was to book up-and-coming bands and put them out there. it had a lot of weird components as a result - e.g. the sheer number of bands and locations, cheap tickets and free tickets for parents, and a constantly changing lineup schedule so attendees couldn't plan their day in advance around specific artists (so the artists were on a more ~equal footing and to encourage ppl to show up when the gates opened and stay all day). it was also notoriously gruelling and uncomfortable for the bands - really demanding schedule, no showers, etc etc.

so one of the things it did (along with showcasing local acts at each location) was invite a "bbq band" to join the tour for free and play every day if they helped run the nightly bbq that fed all the musicians. according to this podcast (around 17 mins in, but the whole episode is a short and really interesting listen, i recommend it!), mcr were that band in 2004 (they were only on the first half of the tour tho, june 25-july 18,24). i'm not sure exactly what his source is but he seems to know his stuff, and i'm almost positive i've heard gerard refer to it in an interview at some stage, though i can't remember when 😭. anyway, that doesn't mean they fully ran the bbq and were the only staff - they were just helpers! warped had a catering company and served a truly enormous amount of food every day, and apparently the artist's bbq was something like 300 hot dogs, 300 burgers, and 100 veggie burgers a night (all from that podcast). mcr definitely wouldn't have been doing that on their own, they were probably just helping out hahaha.

anyway, this was all in 2004, when the lineup included thursday, the used, tbs, coheed and cambria, the bouncing souls, etc. so revenge had only been out for like a month and they didn't have their own bus yet - i'm like 80% sure they stayed on senses fail's bus that tour, but i can't remember which one of them said that or where haha (they definitely shared a bus directly afterwards as they toured back towards nj).

after that is when they went to japan, came back, fired otter, and filmed inok, and went back on tour with bob and face to face all in the space of 2 weeks. that tour is when their van finally broke down for good and they got on their first own tour bus at the end of it.

the more ~famous mcr warped tour is 2005, which is the one with fob etc. i haven't seen lotms in a while but i actually assumed the bit where ray said he'd been a total hermit in the back of the bus was from that 05 tour, because that's the one they had the bus studio where he spent a lot of time writing parade demos. either way, he might not have been partying and socialising a whole lot, but i'm sure he would've sown up to bbq duty anyway! it was their free ticket, after all.

#sorry this is. wayyyy too much information i had to stop myself there bc i was about to keep going SJDKGLJSDLGDS #2004 was crazy man. the bus breakdown timeline is wild i wanna make a proper post about that bc. and i hate that i know this. #cortez got the details wrong HAHAHAHA #anyway yes it's okay to ask me this stuff my favourite thing is collecting facts and trivia and dates <3 sjfkldjsl #answered #mcr history #revenge #warped 04 #** #if anyone knows the interviews i'm talking about plssss lmk 😭

[createserenity]

Ficlet - A Time of Wanting

I've had some writer's block recently and have been making super slow progress with my wips. Then I saw these lovely kiss drawings by @mrghostrat and ended up being very inspired and writing not one but two new stories. The other is below if you're interested:

Thank you so much Bilvy for making such lovely artwork! (Also their Good Omens AUs are incredible, if you haven't read them I highly recommend them!) This is a ficlet inspired by the fifth kiss in the collage (this one). It's basically Crowley being silly and soft. (Set post an imaginary season 3 where they've saved the world and are talking again.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here on AO3 - or below

A Time of Wanting

Crowley wants.

He wants so badly and he's wanted for so long that it's a physical ache in his chest now.

He wonders how he's not broken in half with the sheer force of his wanting. He wonders how Aziraphale doesn't notice how much he wants. Surely it should be a tangible thing now, this longing that pulses through him every moment of his existence. This urge to reach out, to touch, to take.

But it seems it isn't, because Aziraphale is busy reshelving books, apparently oblivious to the demon sprawled out over the couch. He hasn't even noticed that Crowley has woken from the nap he was taking, hasn't noticed that Crowley feels as if he could shake apart with the sheer force of his emotions.

How has he survived this long without taking this silly fussy angel for his own? How has he survived without knowing his touch, his taste, the way the angel might look at him if he finally dared to do what he longed to do?

His sleep addled brain tries to imagine what those things would be like, it's nothing he hasn't imagined a million times before, again and again over thousands of years. This time though the images his mind conjures are so affecting, so very real, that they draw a whimper from Crowley's throat before he can stifle it, before he can push it down where it belongs so that he can get through another day of wanting.

Aziraphale obviously hears the noise because he turns, despite being atop the small chair ladder he uses to reach the high shelves, balancing precariously with one hand on the shelf as he looks over at Crowley and gives him a soft smile.

It's that smile that does it.

All at once Crowley's entire brain comes back online and suddenly what he thought were his own wild imaginings coalesce into memories. Actual memories. And he realises that he doesn't need to lie here and want without taking anymore. And that ache in his chest isn't his heart about to break apart, but merely where he's fallen asleep with his mobile phone jammed against his ribs.

Fuck he's an idiot.

He flails madly for a moment whilst his brain remembers how to control overly long limbs, and barely hears the clatter as the phone falls to the floor unheeded, but then he's on his feet, bounding across the bookshop.

“Angel.” The word falls from his lips almost reverently as he crosses the space and Aziraphale seems to recognise that there's something amiss, even if he probably doesn't realise just how stupid Crowley can be sometimes.

How could he have forgotten? Six thousand years of longing, and now he can have whenever he wants and his stupid brain can't seem to hold onto that fact.

By the time Crowley has closed the distance between them Aziraphale is on the lowest step of the chair ladder. Crowley slips his arms around his angel's waist, fully intending to bury his head in the softness of Aziraphale's shoulder but instead the movement is arrested by Aziraphale's hands. They come up to rest either side of his jaw, holding him gently, yet firmly in place.

“Crowley. Darling,” says Aziraphale, his tone impossibly fond and yet with that underlying hint of strength, as he searches Crowley’s face with eyes that don't even bother trying to hide their adoration.

And now there is an ache inside Crowley’s chest that's nothing to do with sleeping awkwardly smushed against his phone. This ache is his heart trying to contain too many feelings, too much love. It feels like it's bursting with it.

“Angel.” He breathes out the word softly, as if saying it again might somehow help.

Aziraphale smiles and pulls him closer, one hand slipping from his jaw to wrap around his head, whilst the fingers of the other hand press lightly, tilting his face upwards with a gentle insistence that thrills Crowley to his core. 

“You silly thing,” Aziraphale says, as if he knows exactly how daft Crowley was being a minute ago. Crowley thinks he should probably object to that. Snap back a sarcastic comment to the patronising bastard of an angel that knows him far too well, that sees the vulnerability under his carefully crafted exterior.

But then Aziraphale’s lips are on his and all protests fizzle away before they've even made it to his throat.

This is what he has wanted for so long. This is his now. He can ask for this whenever he wants. 

He shuffles forward, tightening his arms to mould their bodies closer together, mindful not to pull Aziraphale from his precarious perch. The kiss deepens just slightly and he feels Aziraphale's fingers dancing over his cheek as the angel tightens his hold on Crowley’s head.

There's a soft whimper and then an equally soft moan and Crowley is surprised to realise he isn't responsible for either noise. For a second he flutters his eyes open and focuses on the expression that’s crept across Aziraphale's features. It's open and vulnerable, filled with adoration and love and contentment, as if this is the one thing Aziraphale has always longed for and wants to keep forever.

The realisation, that this means as much to Aziraphale as it does to him, makes Crowley’s heart swell with emotion, even as the ache in his chest is dispelled, dissolving away into a warm fuzziness that seems to wrap around them both. 

He lets his eyes drop closed again and leans a little more into the kiss. There’s a hum of contentment and this time he knows it's come from him.

He wanted for so long and now finally he’s exactly where he wants to be.

#good omens #good omens fanfic #fanart inspired fic #ineffable husbands #good omens fanart #no beta - mistakes are all my own fault #crowley loves aziraphale #aziraphale loves crowley #fluff #my writing

[hrizantemy]

the questions I now have to live with since I've read acotar. Haven't read the book in a while and I don't plan to for the sake of my own sanity 😭 so sorry if this doesn't make sense

Did Feyre even earn the wings she uses? Why the fuck did rhysand allow her to even be able to have them ?? I would be so offended as a woman who had her wings taken if a human turned far was able to just summon a part of myself that I lost.

Why was there a inner circle again? They were all useless

Did Feyre even earn the title high lady or have any power?

What was mor's role again?

Why should I be scared of the tiny creature who can't access her powers but is trapped in a fae body. How exactly is she a threat?

Why do people say that bat boy deserves better? Last I checked Nesta had zero power over bar boy, wasn't harassing him and didn't trap him in a house or mock him to the point of a breakdown. Yes she was mean but that doesn't excuse the fact she was abused by higher authority and treated like an object.

Why didn't the high lords not team up and attack Rhysand? I would have declared war on him if I were the rest of the high lords. Plus the other half of his court who hates him wouldn't mind.

The same questions I’m asking myself everyday I think about this book. I’ll try and answer some of it though !!

1. The Illyrian culture, where wings hold significant symbolism and are a part of their identity, is deeply ingrained in their society. For Feyre, a human-turned-faerie, to possess wings without earning them through the traditional Illyrian rites or experiences is at least in my perspective appropriating their culture. It disregards the cultural significance and the struggles Illyrian women face with having their wings clipped. Feyre, as a human, comes from a different background and has not endured the same hardships as Illyrian women. Rhysand, as Feyre's partner and a powerful High Lord, holds significant influence over her abilities and development. Granting her wings without her earning them could perpetuate unequal power dynamics within their relationship. It suggests that Feyre's empowerment is dependent on Rhysand's decisions rather than her own agency and efforts. While the decision to give Feyre wings may have been made with good intentions, it’s viewed as problematic due to its implications regarding cultural appropriation, privilege, power dynamics, disregard for traditions.

2. In history, an "Inner Circle" typically refers to a close-knit group of individuals who hold significant influence and power within a particular organization, government, or social circle. The Inner Circle is often composed of trusted advisors, confidants, or allies of a leader or authority figure. Despite being portrayed as a close-knit group, there are instances in the series where members of the Inner Circle experience internal conflicts, disagreements, and tensions. This lack of unity can undermine their effectiveness as a cohesive team. The Inner Circle contributes less to the group's overall objectives or face fewer consequences for their actions compared to others. The Inner Circle's decision-making process is inconsistent or questionable at times, leading to outcomes are illogical or unsatisfying. In conclusion Sarah J. Maas doesn’t even know why they’re there because like Nesta and Elain they were meant to be flat characters.

3. In many fantasy narratives, characters earn titles or positions through specific trials, accomplishments, or displays of skill. Feyre’s ascension to High Lady lacks clear, earned qualifications or achievements traditionally associated with such a prestigious title. Throughout the series, Feyre makes decisions that are morally ambiguous or controversial. Feyre's journey to becoming High Lady is heavily influenced by her relationships with other characters, particularly Rhysand. She is overly reliant on Rhysand's support and guidance, raising questions about her ability to lead independently and make tough decisions without external assistance. Compared to other characters in positions of leadership, such as the High Lords or Ladies of other courts, Feyre's experience and training may appear limited. Although Feyre possesses certain magical abilities, such as the ability to manipulate and control different types of magic, her powers are relatively limited in scope compared to other characters who wield vast and diverse magical abilities.

4. She’s a bisexual leaning lesbian who sleeps with men but hates it and uses her brother/fuck buddy to prove to another man he can never have her while being jealous that her brother/fuck buddy has a mate that she things “doesn’t deserve him” that’s her role and we’re supposed to route for her I guess.

5. Because her eyes swirl silver and she drinks blood???

6. Because that bat boy dick makes people delusional I swear it has to be good.

7. Tarquin needs to send them back the blood rubies and gather allies and then destroy their court and let them be invaded and court destroyed. Sound familiar? Yeah.

I’m so sorry I got tired and lazy through like half of this !!! 😭😭😭😭

#anti acotar #anti acosf #anti inner circle #anti feysand #anti rhysand #anti cassian #anti azriel #anti amren #anti morrigan #anti nessian #pro nesta #nesta archeron deserves better #please someone #how are people still reading this book #stand up !!

[angelllcakes]

wooo!!! requests are open! how about shy crushes with chan? i could only imagine how the members would push him to make a move 😭

also, your rules post isn’t showing up for some reason! i’m not sure if it’s just me :((

hope you’re doing well!

arghhh those darn rules >:(

i have a feeling its because i altered my username, but i fixed the link and hopefully it's back up! thank you for being so considerate and acknowledging them though! i rly appreciate you bb 💗

as for this request, you couldn't have sent a better ask for me to jump back in with! but i realized i might have read the prompt wrong about half way in hehe... i hope this still meets your expectations!

just around the corner

with dino x femreader

warnings/announcements: insecure, quiet reader, mild language, ridiculously immature children in good looking, grown men’s bodies. SEUNGKWAN IS BLOND 😏😩 this is also based in a school setting, however ages or grades are not mentioned.

WORD COUNT: 1k

As someone who considers themselves not quite as "outgoing" as they'd like to be, public spaces have always haunted you by the idea of being extremely uncomfortable. It isn't the company of others that you particularly dislike, nor is it the fact that you feel the need to be alone. Sometimes, the silence that lingers in the air between small talk or with close friends is all you need to process your thoughts, and perhaps you need a bit more of that silence when the boy you find just ahead passes you by once again. He crosses through your path at exactly 7:43am each morning, sending you the most contagious smile before disappearing into his classroom. It's the same, small notion he does that makes you lose all grasp of your feelings, yet you always react so flusteredly, as if it's the first time you laid eyes on him all over again.

You wonder how he manages to find you each day, considering your schedules overlap and cycle in completely different agendas. You know for certain it's because of your class' small size, making each student familiar with one another at the very least, yet you like the idea of it being caused by fate, in the hopes that his charm is followed by a more meaningful reason rather than just out of the kindness of his heart. Chan in fact does look for you between the crowds of rushing students, desperately trying to speak with you through his bashful gazes and quick grins, but he doesn't necessarily hate the way your cheeks grown warm for him either. You give him a fraction more of the confidence he wishes for.

Yet as soon as he enters his homeroom, all hopes of his confidence disappear when he comes face to face with three of his closest friends, whom he currently wants to bury alive as they reenact the previous scene between the two of you. Their chuckles are filled with nothing but support and brotherly love for him, and as Chan's book makes contact with the blonde's face, his two followers emit an even louder laugh.

"Yah, quit messing up my look Chan!'

"Your face is already unfixable, give me a damn break."

Seungkwan scoffs lightheartedly before finding his seat as the bell echoes through the building, peeking over Chan's desk for another genuine, but mostly annoying attempt to pry at his love life.

"Are you going to actually go for her today? Or wallow in your own shyness again? If you don't do anything besides look at her the poor girls gonna file a restraining order."

Wonwoo opens an ear to the conversation from his desk, curious of Chan’s response.

In all honesty, the constant pestering by his friends encouraging him to make a move is endearing. Yet they don't understand you the way Chan does, and it makes him slightly agitated over how poorly they capture you as they play jokes with him. They haven't seen the way your shoulders lose their tension as you exit busy elevators, or how your smile which, he didn't think was capable of shining brighter than it already does, stretches a little farther after you leave loud groups or chaotic scenes.

It’s the small, more calmer things you find joy in, and you've made Chan see the brighter, more positive side of life too.

So ultimately he gathers his courage, finding you seated on a bench once the final bell signals it's students home for the day. He figured choosing to find you in peace and away from the busy crowds of your environment would calm your nerves, and save him from public humiliation if all things backfired. Opting to begin through small talk, and getting to know you little by little was his original plan, but how well will that work for him? He prepared a fail-proof scenario for a fail proof guy... And Chan, well he isn't as fail proof as he dreamed of.

If almost tripping onto your lap wasn't too close of a call to failure, almost spilling his drink over your outfit and choking on his own spit mid stutter were definitely warnings that he should apologize, backtrack his entire plan, and go scream into his bedroom pillow. However another thing about Chan is that he wasn't a quitter, and was determined to knock down this wall between you two.

That was always what you admired about him most, his desire to succeed. He helped you believe in yourself, and for all his ‘mistakes’ you’d continue to feel overwhelmed with love. You lean closer, just a few inches from his darkening crimson cheeks.

“Was their something you wanted to talk to me about Chan?”

and from the second his name rolls off your lips, his grin instantly grows wider.

angelllcakes© do not copy, modify, or repost my work without consent and permission.

#dino best boy <3 #seventeen dino #dino #svt dino #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #seventeen #seventeen lee chan #svt lee chan #lee chan #dino smut #dino seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #mingyu seventeen #seventeen chan

[monstersinthecosmos]

HI <3 Sheith VC anon here back with a very humble request. So I've read TVL and am currently reading QoTD, just finished the Devil's Minion chapter (oH mY gOD my HEART). I'm going through the books a bit slowly bc life stuff, but I have sooooo many thoughts and feelings and feel like I need to read lots of fic to work through it LOL. I would love it if you could rec me some (or tons of!) fics that wouldn't give me (m)any spoilers re: stuff that happens after this point in the series. I realize this might be a kind of hard/maybe impossible request because a lot of those spoilers would be referring to things that chronologically would have taken place prior to DM for instance, but I'm so starved I thought I might ask just in case! I'm not suuuper partial to any specific ships (Lestat/Louis is a bit boring IMO 😭 but I love them so I'll take it) and I don't have any NOTPs, so I'm down to read pretty much anything (esp if it's spicy and/or hurts my heart and/or features Armand lmao). Totally fine if this is too much trouble or if it turns out to be an impossible ask indeed; thank you in advance anyway! AND THANK YOU AGAIN for introducing me to these brain-rotting books lol I spend like half my waking hours thinking about Armand now.

SHGKJALDS I SPEND HALF MY WAKING HOURS THINKING ABOUT ARMAND TOO SINCE LIKE THE YEAR 2000 LMFAO im so glad you see!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU GET IT MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So babe tbh the reason I started writing Armand/Daniel fic at all is because there really ... isn't that much? And I was like GUESS I GOTTA FUCKIN COOK FOR MYSELF. So tbh I haven't actually read a ton of VC fic at all. The otp:true filter for them on AO3 (excluding TVverse fics) only has 237 fics hdkjgalds but you can start here LOL. I think for the most part you'll be able to tell in the tags if it's post-QOTD because people usually will tag like "post canon" or "Prince Lestat Era"; for QOTD fics check for a Devil's Minion/Devil's Minion Era tag. I don't always remember to tag my own fics but my only post-canon D/A fic is called "In the Trials of the Heart" and all my others are Devil's Minion era and shouldn't spoil anything ! Be aware that the TV fandom and book fandom sometimes overlap so there might be stray TV fics in the book tag; it won't spoil anything bc the TV canon is a completely different story, but it might not make sense if you jump in to read it. So without actual fic recs I'll share some authors that I really trust!! Have a look through their VC fics!!!!!!!

apoptoses (pervert extraordinaire 10/10, all the D/A fics are Devil's Minion era except for Blood Sanation so go nuts!) covenofthearticulate (this is Ash, she actually writes Loustat & Louis/Armand mostly but she's so smart and I trust her so much!!!!) Diabolus_Invictus HekateInHell (writes a lot of Lestat/Armand and also has a human AU called Our House that I'm obsessed with!) ImhereImQuire Nothing_But_Paisley rainandcoffee (if you're sick of all of our doom&gloom you can find fluff and lightness here!) whisperbird (just one VC fic but I think about it every day of my life I love it)

Whenever I remember I try to post VC fics that I do read, kinda like how Sheith fandom does Wednesday Fics, I try to tag #VCFicFriday so try there too!

Anyway if anyone wants to add to this post and share recs PLEASE DO I actually am not a great fic reader bc my attention span sucks and I'm picky about canon compliant porn LOL! But help our new friend out if you want to share any!!!!!!!!!!!!

#I GET NERVOUS MAKING REC LISTS I DONT WANT TO HUR TANYONE IF I FORGET YOU #PLEASE DONT BE SHY AND ADD YOURSELF IF YOU WANT!

[soleminisanction]

I’d pay real money to see your analysis on steph and cass’s relationship 😭 you’re the only mfker on this site doing Stephanie’s character any justice w your amazing character analysis despite being the resident Stephanie Hater TM I owe you my life

Ha, thank you. It is very confusing that my feelings about Steph so often seem to boil down to, "I hate you because you deserve to be written better, goddammit!"

That said, I'm not totally sure I'm qualified to talk about Steph and Cass's relationship in its full extent because I haven't read their "foundational text" -- which is to say, Cass's Batgirl run. I've read pieces of it, but never the storylines where they hang out, and I can't deny that the knowledge of Steph's presence is a big part of what's made me avoid what I know, objectively, to be a fantastic series.

From what I have seen of their relationship, in family crossovers and Steph's Batgirl and their modern appearances (everything Cass has been in except for Batgirls, and about half of that series, but not a consecutive run of issues) plus general fandom osmosis... my personal feeling is that I'm not a fan.

For one, I can never see their modern cutesiness as anything less than full-on queerbaiting. Steph reads as fully straight to me, and when I say that, I don't mean, "hrr drr she's never shown romantic interest in girls before" because that's bullshit. What I mean is that, of all the femme-aligned Bat-people in the franchise, Steph is both by far the most gender conforming and the most male-oriented (of the modern age; obviously Betty and Kathy Kane are a different story). When they shave her head for Future State or the Earth-3 Mary Sue Batwoman, it doesn't look like her, it looks like she's trying to be Cassie Sandsmark. And her motivations are very often tied up in men, whether that man is her father, her boyfriend, or Batman. Since she came back from the dead and they threw out all the complicated character nuance that led to War Games, they really haven't given her much more than that to work with, and it's not like those motivations were ever fully separate from men either.

So to me, the more their modern comic appearances try to push this idea that Stephanie is the most importantest person in Cass's life, the more it feels like they're writing poor Cass to be in love with her straight friend, who in turn is either (generous interpretation) clueless to her affections or (ungenerous interpretation) stringing her along because the attention feeds Steph's ego.

And that perception isn't helped by the fact that I feel like their relationship, as it's written in canon, is extremely one-sided. Like, Steph dies, and Cass spirals, mourning her and hallucinating her presence. Cass gets written into books like Spirit World all by herself and Steph still gets mentions and shout-outs as an important person in her life. People draw art with Cass owning Steph's merch, and she spent so much time in Batgirls talking about how strong and special and important Stephanie is.

Meanwhile, Stephanie spent her time in Batgirls talking about how being a Batgirl made her feel special and awesome. Cass gives her the Batgirl costume at the start of her run of the same name and then disappears and is never seen or mentioned again. She doesn't show up nearly as much on her own, but the last time she did (in Robins) I'm pretty sure Cass wasn't mentioned once, not even as like a flash-in-the-pan cameo during her "Spoiler, leader of the Teen Titans" fantasy sequence.

Pair all that up with the fact that Steph really doesn't get stories of her own and instead turns up in other people's adventures at random, often with Cass at her side as a glorified cameo and... yeah, it all just feels very one-sided to me, like the relationship exists for the same reason the writers forced Tim and Steph back together in 2016. They don't know what to do with Steph if she's not somebody's Designated Love Interest, and since she can't be that to Tim anymore they've shifted to baiting a relationship they'll never actually pull the trigger on with Cass.

It just kinda sucks. Steph should get her own stories. And Cass shouldn't be reduced to her fucking Kato.

#dc comics asks #stephanie brown critical #stephcass critical #batman #batgirl #batgirls #dc comics

[coloursflyaway]

That's so sweet of you to even reply! Um now that you've put me on the spot 😂..honestly I'm a bit clueless 😅. I'm not very imaginative. I just really enjoy reading zowens and so far the few I've read from a couple of you guys have been reallyy good reads!

All I know is that may be something where it's mutual pining and Sami's lost all hope but it's actually not unrequited?? May be a bit of possessive Kevin thrown in? Idk 😭 is what I just said even classified as a prompt??

PS. I know you said you haven't watched wrestling in a while but did you happen to catch the zowens moments at wrestlemania at all! ? 😍😁

Hi!!

So, first of all, great prompt, fits them fantastic, loved it. I just ended up overdoing it by a little, I think, so now it's not really a prompt fill anymore, but a whole fic 😂 really didn't expect that because writing has been Hard lately, so thank you for that!!

Here's the AO3 link, but I'll include the text here too.

PS. I have mainly seen the gifsets of them, but they are!!! so!!!! I love them ♥

There is a brand-new, shining belt in his hands and Sami is aware that this should be the happiest moment in his life. It isn’t. He looks down at the silver plates, the leather strap, heavy and solid and everything he worked for, and he’s happy, of course, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it doesn’t compare to - Well. No matter. Some things you cannot have; Sami has learnt that years and years ago.

Kevin’s face is shining with joy about the match he won and the beers he has had to celebrate it, and Sami’s heart aches at the sight, fierce and wild and beautiful. “The next time”, Kevin mutters into the too-short distance between them, and when Kevin takes another deep swig of his drink, Sami knows that he will have forgotten the words the next morning, “the next time, we’ll tag and we will take all of them out. Jus’ you and me, we’ll fuck them up and send them back crying to their mothers. An’ then we’ll do it again, and again, and again, until we’ll get a shot a’ the titles and then we’ll take ‘em too. An’ we’ll be unstoppable.”

He’s beaming and leaning in and Sami feels himself swaying closer, cannot stop himself. Kevin is magnetic, always has been, and Sami sometimes wonders how long he’ll be able to stop himself from giving in to his pull.

There is a knock on the door of his dressing room, which finally pulls him out of his reverie. Sami takes a moment to compose himself before he answers, wiping silly fantasies from his mind that he has known to be useless for most of his life now like he would wipe tears from his eyes. He’s used to both, after all. “Come in!”

The door swings open, and he shouldn’t, but Sami knows who is behind it before he sees Kevin standing there. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”, Kevin asks instead of a greeting, stepping into the room like he owns it. In some way, Sami guesses, he does. “What makes you think that’s not what I am doing?”, he asks back, getting up, because knowing Kevin, he’ll be pulled into a hug within the next thirty seconds. Knowing himself, he won’t ever be able to turn down a chance to be close to Kevin.

His words draw a laugh from Kevin’s lips that Sami treasures, and just like Sami knew he would, Kevin wraps his arms around him the second Sami has stood up. The edges of his belt presses into his stomach painfully, but that is a small price to pay for the comfort of Kevin’s thick, warm arms around him, the faint tickle of Kevin’s beard against Sami’s neck.

“To start with”, Kevin begins to answer while still pressed against Sami, only slowly pulling back, “because you are in here and not out there, where you should be. Also, because I have known you for more than half my life and this isn’t your celebratory face.”

“Sounds good”, he replies easily, then adds, “only that we’ll have to wait a bit longer with doing that, I’m booked to tag with Quicksilver the next show. But after that…” He doesn’t expect more than a scoff – Kevin isn’t that fond of Quicksilver, but then again, he isn’t fond of a lot of people – but instead, Kevin’s face darkens, his brows furrowing and his eyes suddenly glistening in the dim light of the bar. It’s a look Sami half-recognises from the ring, because the intensity is almost the same, but there is something else mixed into it. Something dark, something dangerous, something alluring.

He’s right, of course he is, but Sami still tries for a few moments to come up with an excuse, before he finally nods. It wouldn’t make a difference, saying anything else, when Kevin knows him so well. “It’s nothing”, he adds, because he can see Kevin starting to worry within half a second. “Just a bit of nostalgia. Reminiscing about the old days, you know the drill.” “How old?”, Kevin asks and, thank God, the smile is back in his voice and his eyes and Sami wants to luxuriate in it, wants to stay here forever. In any moment with Kevin, really.

“Ring of Honor old”, he replies with a wry smile, because it almost feels like a confession; to be here, at the pinnacle of his career, and thinking about being young and dumb and so, so hopeful. Again, it makes Kevin laugh, makes him clasp a hand on the side of Sami’s shoulder; a point of contact that is so warm it would be enough to sustain him through a winter. “That is old.” “I know.” “Anything special? Or just the general beauty of horrible hotels, being sixty percent bruises and having to put me in bed after I drank my weight in shitty lager?”

There is something about old wounds, the way their pain becomes familiar, almost an old friend. Sami’s lips tingle, remembering, his heart aches, dull and yet fierce, but he smiles nonetheless, too used to the pain for it to feel disruptive.

“All of the above, I’d say.”

“Quicksilver?”, Kevin repeats, and even his voice is different, rough and full of something that Sami doesn’t understand, yet desperately wants to. “Yes. You know, silver and blue mask, used to hang around with Scorpio Sky?” “I know who he is”, Kevin replies, but his voice hasn’t changed. Maybe Sami missed a fight between them in the past? “Why are you tagging with him?”

Sami self-consciously pushes a hand through his hair; it’s becoming too long again. “Well, he asked and I didn’t see anything wrong with giving it a shot. He seems like a-” “You shouldn’t tag with anyone but me”, Kevin interrupts him, and suddenly Sami does recognise what is dripping from every word he speaks: hunger. “Fuck Quicksilver. Fuck all of them. They don’t have what we have. They never will.”

“Doesn’t sound very celebratory”, Kevin states, but there is humour in his voice. “How about tomorrow, after I win the United States Championship, we’ll do it properly? I don’t think I’ll be able to give you the customary three dozen bruises until then, but if you really miss it so much, I am sure we can find some terrible highway motel we can crash in. And as long as it’s better beer, I don’t mind drinking too much of it.”

It’s a joke, of course it is, and a sweet half-serious offer to relive a bit of a time Sami misses dearly on occasion, and yet it’s suddenly too much. Because he has a title in his hands, because out there, there are thousands who cheered for him, and yet, it isn’t the happiest moment in his life, not by far.

The familiar ache in his chest breaks open like the earth cracking in half to spew fire, and Sami knows that he cannot keep the pain from his face even before Kevin reacts. But react he does, worry suddenly clouding his gaze, the hand he still has on Sami’s shoulder gripping harder.

“Sami?”, he asks, and his voice is too much, his gaze, his concern, his friendship that has never been all Sami wanted. “Are you alright? Should I get a doctor?”

“I’m okay”, Sami manages to force out, but he doesn’t sound it, not even to himself. “Just. Don’t say that, Kevin. Not with the… the shitty hotels and the drinking.” It takes a moment to get a reaction, which Sami understands; he isn’t making sense, after all. But then, all of a sudden, Kevin’s expression crumples, his shoulders drop like a burden, half-forgotten, has been forced upon them once more.

“I’m sorry”, he mutters, fingers tightening reflexively around Sami’s shoulder before they fall away. “I never… the last time, when I got so drunk you had to take me to my room, you never told me what happened, even if I have an inkling… I don’t think I ever had the guts to say it, but I’m sorry. For whatever it is I did.”

“Kevin”, he breathes out, unsure, because surely this cannot be happening. Sami has been aware of his own feelings for years, but there is no way they could be requited. And yet, there is a glint in Kevin’s eyes that looks like yearning; and yet, Sami’s heart picks up its pace, spelling out in morse code: pleasepleasepleaseplease.

A moment of silence stretches between them, thick and viscous, then Kevin knocks back the rest of his beer, before crushing the can and dropping it on the floor. “Fuck it”, he mutters, and Sami wants to ask what he means, but before he can get the words out, Kevin reaches out, one hand on Sami’s hip, one on the side of his neck, and pulls him in. He tastes of gas station beer and stale chips and almost ten years of quiet, desperate, hopeless longing, and even before he manages to kiss back, Sami knows that this is the happiest he ever will be.

“What?”

Kevin isn’t looking at him anymore, but there is so much pain written in clear, horrible letters across his face that it washes away the ache in Sami’s chest; how could it matter, when Kevin is hurting right in front of him?

A wry laugh escapes Kevin’s lips, which might be the worst sound Sami has ever heard, but then he speaks, still not looking at Sami, and makes it worse. “I’m sure you remember it as well as I do, that one night when we were still in ROH. Before you started tagging with Quicksilver. When Chuck, I think, got all that horrible beer from the gas station around the corner and I just didn’t know when to stop. I never had the guts to ask what happened either, but you were so different afterwards, didn’t want to be touched, to be alone with me… and the scribbling on my arm… tell me if I’m wrong, but after some time I figured that I probably, you know. Kissed you. Which I shouldn’t have, of course. Against your will. So, don’t worry, I won’t do that again. Ever.”

“Did you sleep well?”, Sami asks the next morning when Kevin opens the door of his hotel room, looking dishevelled and hungover and utterly beautiful. For once, they had splurged on two hotel rooms instead of sharing one, and while Sami wishes he could have woken up next to Kevin, maybe even wrapped up in his arms, this, too, is wonderful.

He hands Kevin one of the coffees he picked up at a nearby café, idly wondering if this could become his thing now, treating his… his Kevin to coffee in the morning. After all, he usually is up far earlier than the other.

“Ugh”, Kevin replies, taking a gulp of coffee before even trying to form words, and it might be the most enchanting sound Sami has ever heard. “Think so. Can’t remember much. About sleeping or last night. Did you get into a fight, by the way?”

“What? No, no fights”, Sami replies distractedly, wondering if that means Kevin doesn’t remember their kiss, wondering if that means they will get to have two first kisses. Almost smiles at how much he will get to tease Kevin about it if he really has forgotten. All but plans to start the story of how they got together with this from now on: you know, I was in love with Kevin for almost a decade and he kisses me and then immediately forgets about it! Can you believe that?

“You sure?”, Kevin asks again between sips of coffee. “I know my handwriting is awful and drunk it’s even worse, and the letters are really smudged, but I wrote Don’t fuck with Sami on my arm last night.”

It takes a moment to sink in through the layers of happiness and imagined mornings and afternoons and evenings together, but eventually, Sami learns what it feels like to have the world end while not making a sound.

Sami recognises the pain on Kevin’s face; it’s the twin of his own, the one that has been with him for so long that it has found its permanent home at the bottom of his heart, with him in every moment he spends with Kevin, every one they are apart. It’s old and it’s weary and it’s familiar, and Sami should hate it, but.

But if his heart houses the other half of it, then that has to mean something.

And then Kevin says kissed, and for a moment, Sami thinks that he remembers, before realising that, no, he doesn’t, and somehow that is worse.

“You did”, he answers, and finally, Kevin looks at him again. His eyes are wide and terrified and still beautiful, and Sami hasn’t allowed himself to think it for a decade at least, but he loves him so much it is tearing him apart. “You kissed me that night. And then you didn’t remember it the next day, only had that writing on your arm and I thought you were trying to warn yourself not to do it again. But. Kevin. I kissed back.”

Kevin stumbles into his room, his lips still tingling with the last kiss Sami pressed onto them before closing the door behind him. Smiling so brightly Kevin thought he would burn up just looking at him, so happily that Kevin wanted to burn. Sami. The name alone is enough to make something within Kevin break open and pour out six or seven or eight years of pure love into the space between his ribs. He can’t explain why he had the courage to kiss Sami tonight, when he had sworn to himself he never would again and again and again, but now, knowing how Sami’s lips feel against his, how his hair feels between his fingers, his body pressed against Kevin’s, he thanks every divine entity he might believe in or not that he did.

Sami.

The alcohol is making his movements sluggish and sloppy, but Kevin manages to find a pen at the bottom of his backpack anyway, stored away for – maybe, hopefully – signing autographs after the show. He didn’t, but not even that matters anymore, because he needs it now for something much more important.

Don’t forget kiss with Sami, he writes on his arm, letters sloping and curling into each other, a smudge across half of it.

Not that he thinks there is much risk of doing so. After all, hadn’t Sami kissing him back been the happiest moment of his life?

There is no answer for several seconds, Kevin just staring at him like he has changed his life and hung the stars and the moon and the sun itself, and Sami is stuck in place until he isn’t anymore. Because the first time, years and years ago, Kevin had been brave enough to take the first step, and afterwards, Sami hadn’t dared to do the same. But maybe now is the time to return the favour.

Trembling, he picks up Kevin’s hands, which are warm and familiar, have caused as much hurt as they have healed, and puts them on his own body: one on his hip, the other on the side of his neck. And he steps closer, until he’s so close he can read the hopeful disbelief in Kevin’s eyes, can feel that the other’s breath has stopped.

“It was just like this”, Sami explains, and Kevin’s gaze drops to his lips, shoots up again as if he has to make sure that Sami wants this. “You didn’t want me to tag with Quicksilver. Or anyone else. You said that they could never have what we have, and you were right, and then you pulled me in and-”

Kevin kisses him.

He tastes like chewing gum and Red Bull and love, and Sami drinks him in until it feels like he is drowning, and even before he manages to kiss back, Sami knows that this, now truly, is the happiest he ever will be

#kevin owens #sami zayn #zowens #kevin steen #el generico #steenerico #wwe #wrestlemania

[mochamoth]

Aosth Warrior Cat AU time! Yaaaaaay! 🍃✨️

Sonic and Tails

Idk about clans yet, if I wanna use canon clans or make up my own, I'll figure it out later, but here's Sonic and Tails. I'm naming them Swiftrunner and Foxpaw (later to be named Foxtails).

Robotnik

Scary evil cat. He'll be a leader, so his name is gonna be like Eggstar or something.. Don't ask HOW he got 9 lives, maybe manipulation idk. Also I had to make the whiskers his mustache sorry.

Scratch and Grounder

Lol Scratch is some weird oriental longhair, and Grounder is a british shorthair. Also I only recently realized Grounder being a british shorthair could be a tie in to that one episode where he's smart. Their names' would be Roosterscratch and Moleclaw.

Breezie and Coconuts

Pretty lady cat, and some tiny little thing. Also Coconuts had half his tail ripped off, probably from a fight. Their names' are Breezeflower and Coconutsplash.

(Also sorry if 'splash' isn't a suffix, I haven't read the Warriors books in like 5 years 😭)

Wes

He might be my fav out of these cat au designs. He's so cheeky 💖. Anyways I might make him a rogue or stray, but if he did have a warrior name it'd definitely be Weaselwhisker or Weaseltooth.

Henrietta

Ik she isn't a main or "side" character, but she's my fav one-episode-off character. She'd be a barn cat, but she CAN fight. Her warrior name would be Turkeytail.

I will probably make more so lemme know if there's any specific characters you want me to do sooner or later (also this is for fun soo yeah<3).

#aosth #adventures of sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #tails the fox #miles tails prower #robotnik #aosth grounder #aosth scratch #aosth coconuts #breezie the hedgehog #wes weasely #scratch and grounder #warriors au #warrior cats au #sonic au

[acourtofthought]

I'm so confused😭 idk if I should agree with them that Gwyn and Lucien deserve better or if they mean Elain and Az deserve each other in the most twisted and sickest way bc they treated Gwyn and Lucien wrong so they should be together bc they've been shitty to them? LOL what is happening?😭

this reminded me of that anon who said Azriel didn't care if Gwyn was about to get r*ped again... the only explanation for this is they want e/riel be this truly evil couple and that just doesn't work like- HELP

Based on this logic Rhysand deserved better since Feyre did not want him and instead preferred Tamlin. Cassian deserved better since Nesta preferred other males to him. Elain deserved better because Az was still in love with Mor while she sat next to him in the room at Solstice. Az deserved better because while he offered her TT and helped get her back from Hyberns camp, Elain was still mourning Graysen after that.

But apparently to them "deserving better" only applies to any characters who stand in the way of E/riel from being endgame.

Also, Lucien is in control of what he is willing to put up with so someone claiming "he deserves better" is completely ignoring that he has the choice to walk away. No one is forcing him to give Elain time or to bring her gifts. He wants to do those things because he still holds out hope. The AUTHOR wants him to still hold out hope for Elain and we all know what happens for mated males in this series who suffer through an Archeron sister not wanting them.

And while his suffering is painful to read about, it's only half the picture.

Elain "deserved better" than to be kidnapped, thrown into a Cauldron against her will and changed into an entirely new species. Elain deserved better than to have her fiance reject her for those things and that in the minutes after becoming a new species it came along with a mating bond that immediately snapped for both she and Lucien before either was ready. Elain deserved better than to be kidnapped a second time, later having to stab a man and look upon her fathers murdered body.

Saying Lucien "deserves better" is not taking into consideration that he's only half of this whole and in order for two people to find their way to one another, they need to first heal from their own pasts. It's completely ignoring that Elain deserves to heal from her traumas before worrying about what "Lucien deserves".

I love Lucien but what he "deserves" is to have a mate who has had time to adjust to her new world and to process what she's feeling before having to focus on her bond with him, so she can come to him in the right frame of mind to be more of the love interest he deserves.

It sucks that in her processing of this new world she's flirting with Az but that's her right. It's normal to not jump into anything too serious after extreme trauma and her engagement and she has made no promises to Lucien. At this moment these two characters desires don't align but that doesn't mean his desires are more valid than hers. It also doesn't mean her desires can't change in the next book so he is what she wants.

HEA mating bonds are not just handed to these characters. In an SJM book, if there's not a bit of a suffering, it's not happening.

As far as Gwyn, "deserve" shouldn't even come into play because she and Az haven't moved forward in any sort of relationship. There's hints that's where they'll end up but right now what does deserve have to do with anything when they're in early stages? We don't even know whether she has feelings beyond curiosity and flirtation at this point and no clue whether either is aware of a possible bond. The only thing she deserves is for Az to work through his shit before moving forward with her and that's something that can easily happen in his book.

Two people end up together when the time is right and just because that time doesn't happen exactly when someone says it should doesn't mean someone deserves better. It's actually the opposite in a romance book. When one character is willing to wait out another while they deal with their demons, that's why they're deserving of the ultimate HEA in the end, their suffering is what makes them worthy.

I'd say neither Elain or Az are "deserving" of a HEA together since neither has truly suffered for the other. He was still half in love with Mor while lusting over Elain and she was still dealing with the loss of Graysen and her humanity while "flirting" with Az. Sure Az is struggling with not getting a bond but that has nothing to do with not getting to be with Elain the person. He spent centuries wanting a bond with Mor then a year questioning why he wasn't mated to Elain. But it's the bond he wants, not her and he's only confused why two brothers got two sisters and he wasn't automatically given the third (again, nothing to do with her as an individual). If in this persons estimation Elain and Az are the ones hurting those that deserve better than shouldn't E/riel be the ones punished by not getting what they want (which to an E/riel is for E/riel to be together)? Shouldn't Lucien, the one who "deserves better", get what he wants most? And doesn't that appear to be a true happily ever after with his mate, the ultimate thing in an SJM novel?

#anti e/riel #pro lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron #pro gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #elucien

[ae-neon]

Finished Gardens of the Moon at 1am and immediately fell asleep so it's only really hitting me now and I need to ramble

Non-Spoiler

If you haven't read it it's a High and Epic Fantasy that follows a cast of characters during several conflicts. There's a dark elf demi god, a puppet that wants to kill people, undead neanderthal things, a girl possessed by the god of assassins and a man whose dreams are alt dimensions. That might seem like a lot of spoilers but I promise it's barely scratched the surface.

The biggest complaint you might hear is that it's confusing but I say don't worry about being confused, or not picking up on every name, event etc. Look up a map and just go with the story. The story isn't confused or confusing, you just aren't spoonfed or given all the information at once. It makes sense not to know or understand something since half the characters you're viewing the story through, don't either

It's genuinely so much fun, so fresh and by the end even a little profound.

The worldbuilding is so rich and deep and unabashedly fantastical - a floating city! Mages! Ancient immortals! - without being nonsensical, how refreshing.

The storyline was like a river, a main body fed from the past and flowing to the future while having streams here and there that all connected to the main body or branched off from it. And all the while this undercurrent about action, hope and compassion in the face of inevitable loss, violence and dominance.

For me there's genuinely only two problems with this whole book. The Non-Spoiler problem is that I wish the author described the characters in a little more detail.

4/5 stars 🌷🌷🌷

Spoilers, Avert Your Gaze

Where do I start??!

That false climax is so iconic, drama at the fête > the potential end of the world hahaha

Kruppe. Truly, he falls in his own category. What a character in both the story and narrative.

While Tool, Lorn and Rake are maybe my favourite characters, there isn't a character I disliked, honestly

Lorn 💔 why couldn't you just go with Tool

Tool 💚 I hope we see you again

I think I might be alone in not being the biggest Bridgeburner fan - they're literally introduced as an invading imperial force so maybe I wasn't supposed to like them.

Or maybe it's that I'm not as much of a Whiskeyjack fan as I thought I'd be given his reputation amongst fans, in this book at least, I preferred Dujeck Onearm (+Toc, we better see him again!!!) - though Ben + Kalam and later, Hedge + Fiddler were definitely some of my faves.

Tattersail! 😭 What a bold narrative decision, holy fuck, but ultimately so so so interesting and I can't wait to read from that character's perspective in the future

One gripe I do have is that the writing didn't work to make the connection between Tattersail and Paran believable let alone deep enough to warrant something that crosses her lifetime.

Individually they're both great, but the idea that what happened between them had any real weight to it was not conveyed well in the narrative. It was said but not shown.

In contrast, the relationship between Apsalar and Crokus, my sweet children, is done sooo much better. Even Crokus' misunderstanding of Challice, and the realistic portrayal of her pov, had more depth than Paran/Tattersail

I literally pulled a face at the end when Paran sensed and "spoke" to adolescent 'Sail. Like whyyyy, took a lot of my enjoyment out of Paran's pov, which was perfect except for this aspect.

Coll, Rallick Nom and Murillo - the three musketeers. Rallick just sitting on the Azath was hilarious, I predicted Coll's story but his time and bond with Paran was unexpected and very enjoyable, and Murillio... Those few lines about how vengeance and justice had twisted him, that hollowness in the 'victory' after he left Simtal with the dagger... That really left a deep impression on me especially as I wasn't too into Simtal being this one note sex symbol villainess.

All the gods are interesting but I think Cotillion might have been my favourite. Hope his ambitions bring him back into the fray. Sorry was Iconic. Also definitely wanna see what happens with the two hounds who escaped Dragnipur

And Anomander Rake... How beautiful was the unveiling of this character's story and motivations?? The conversations between Baruk and Rake were some of my favourite moments and I can't wait to reread them.

I cannot wait to see more from his side of the board, including Caladan, Prince K'azz, Crone and Silanah

I also hope K'rul has a good day and gets some devout followers.

4/5 stars. Literally the only thing stopping it from being perfect was the lack of Paran/Sail depth and that I wish Erikson would add a little more description of the characters besides the broad strokes of body shape and age

#gardens of the moon #malazan #book rambles

[angelicyoongie]

Hi Maggy!!!!

Ok i know that chapter 11 is coming out tomorrow, so you don’t have to release this ask until then or after, but aHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, I CAN FINALLY TALK ABOUT THE EVENTS THAT HAPPENED SO SOME SPOILERS BELOW

ok, so the sp**king was definitely so uncalled for like??? She’s literally on her deathbed with hypothermia and you guys think that doing that rn is a good choice??? They’re all so weird, but I couldn’t look away 😭😭😭

I will admit that Yoongi’s help at least retained a shred of dignity for the MC and was helpful but COME ON MANNNN, LET HER BE PLEASE 😭😭😭

I am SO glad that Jimin and Taehyung were banned from the cabin for being little shits, honestly they deserved longer (ornotcomingbackatallforbeingsuperweird) and I couldn’t help but find some endearment for Jin bc of how scared he was of the movie lol

If any of the members really had any redeeming features, now that sadly MC has been forced to succumb, would really be YoonJinKook tbh, everyone else will need to GROVEL for her forgiveness and acceptance

Maybe, in several years, they’ll stop being so creepy and be “decent” 😭😭

But I’m so excited for the next chapter!!! Honestly, this whole story has been my own “Roman empire,” I literally can’t stop thinking about lovesick 😭

Love all your works Maggy, and hope you take care of yourself always!

Off topic, but your stories have been keeping me afloat from drowning in all my post grad homework and clinical practice work, so thank you for your amazing writing! 💜💜

- K

K!! Your comments always make me so happy, you're so sweet 😭💖 I really appreciate you coming back to talk about what happened even though you read the chapters weeks ago, tysm!!

It was, lol! They definitely should have waited until the MC wasn't at death's door anymore, but it's not like they've been normal up until this point so I guess that was too much to ask of them 💀

It makes you half-grateful that it's him just because he's being respectful but also like damn, how low have they set the bar for THAT to be protecting her dignity?

Yeah, they should have been banned for life but we all know there would be no keeping those two away from the MC forever 🫠 Scared Seokjin is a little cute and I think that's because we're finally seeing a somewhat vulnerable side to him that the others haven't really shown much of yet? But yeah, yoonjinkook are probably at the top of the MC's list rn!

Maybe... Let's hope the MC finds something helpful in the books she asked Joon to bring to her 🤧

Omg thank you lmao, I consider that to be a big compliment 🙈 I really hope the chapter coming next week will provide you with a small break and escape from your studies!! Keep up the good work K, I'm proud of you 🥺

Thank you so so much, I hope you take care as well!! 💖💖

#q: lovesick #k anon

[bearbrickjia]

What advice would you give to a fellow artist who had lost creative and career direction? 🙂 I’ve experienced a tough year personally and I was wondering what steps you take to push through stressful times and also how you get back on track as a creative? 🙂

I receive this type of questions all the time and to be honest, I'm not sure either. I hope I know how too 😭 In the past few months or maybe more than half a year, I've been mentally drained and felt unsatisfied with every artwork that I produced, I just don't feel like drawing at one point. It's definitely not burnout because my freelance life is honestly quite relaxing, I get to choose what projects to take and arrange my schedule freely, I have lots of free time and probably only work like 2-3 days a week, my clients are all kind and nice to me, no stress at all. But somehow I felt empty inside, like something is draining away slowly.

When I had artblock in the past, I will watch some movies and shows that I like, read some books and do nothing for a few days and I will be fine after that. But this time is different, it's useless no matter what I do and it lasted for months, it's very frustrating and I just don't know what I should do.

I'm still finding ways to solve this, and I'm trying all kinds of things that I haven't tried before now - such as accept the invitation to do a public sharing at SGCC(which I will never consider in the past), learning a new music instrument, self publish an artbook, hired a personal trainer and start working out, and travel more. So instead of staying home and draw all the time, I'm trying to go out more and explore the things I haven't try before. I do feel a little bit better now and is able to draw passionately sometimes, but still far from what I used to be.

Or maybe being able to draw passionately sometimes is enough, I don't need to push myself too hard, right? Maybe it's because I keep seeing good art by other artists on social media all the time so I feel unproductive and guilty when I'm not producing art regularly. Maybe because I keep observing the world through a small hole so I'm unable to actually feel it and produce something that is sincere. Maybe I should learn how to live first before making art. Maybe I should take my time. There is nothing to heal but empty spaces to fill up. I'm still learning and I hope I find my answer soon.

I'm not sure if this answers your questions, maybe I have drifted too far away haha. Even if this doesn't help you, I hope I at least provided some sort of comfort. Everyone are different and has different paths to take in life, I hope you find your own answer soon.

#replies #anon

[cranberrymoons]

alison @sweetcreaturetm tagged me!! 💖

last song: backstreets by bruce springsteen 😭 I'm flirting with writing a road trip fic and it's the ultimate anthem?? also if I'm being REALLY technical about the exact last song that made an impression on me, Fortunate Son was playing on the radio when we were driving home from the beach earlier and it was a really specific vibe

currently watching: dude I've been so busy this past week and a half that I haven't had time to watch the new good omens yet and there have been approximately a billion spoilers on my dash so I kind of already know what happens but I'm excited to watch that! also i'm still stuck in a hell of my own making (season 6 of supernatural during the rewatch that you and I all wish I wasn't doing)

currently reading: Devil House by John Darnielle and loving it?? also I'm supposed to be reading Big Little Lies for a book club I'm doing with some friends but I haven't started it yet. and ALSO I just started Camp Folktale (steddie au where they're camp counselors at a cryptid-themed summer camp) and that seems fun so far but I've only read like one chapter of it

latest obsession: okay so this is... lame but I've been wearing claw clips a lot this summer to keep my hair out of my face, but not in the way you're Supposed To Wear Them, like – I just sort of use really decorative ones to yoink back the front part of my hair (half grown out bangs) and then leave it horizontal on my head so you can see it head-on like – (———) on top of my head and it probably looks insane but I'm loving it

and then tag 9 people to do it (or don't, no pressure!!!)

@stedward-munton @kermitthehag @shadowofaliar @funeralbeldam @deancasdeancas @satanssugar @riality-check @steddieasitgoes @cemeterylight

#dude the hair clip thing is becoming an actual problem #I keep catching people just like staring at the top of my head when they're talking to me 😭 #tag games