#but for the purposes of this outline I don’t need to go into detail

[letstrywritingmaybe]

3. Sports AU- Hockey edition

(Re part two of my list of fics ideas I’ll never get to)

As a massive Penguins fan, the influence they hold over this fic is so typical. It pains me because I love one man and he is the captain of my team, while I loathe Shinichi some days. But for the purposes of this fic I have to pretend he’s close to being as amazing as my man.

Have I lost you yet? Probably, let me try and bring it back cause this is an enemies to lovers fic, but also forbidden romance (I assume typical in hockey rpfs? Idk I’m not in that fandom). Because you see in this verse, he’s a hockey player and Shiho, my queen, is a referee (we’ll get to her background later and how she ends up here)

• Shinichi’s been in the league for a while and he’s the captain of the team, also the face of the franchise and is a really good player/teammate. Center man because of my own biases, and of course line mates would have to be Heiji and Kaito (the core/trio for like ever. This is my fic so they’re gonna be wingers, but can also play center I suppose. Point is forwards cause I don’t wanna completely copy my team plus I think they would be better as forwards well maybe Kaito… okay stop)

• being a star player and too good at his job, penalties are not always called… which may also be because refs are the worst (not my queen though but I’m biased)

• my girl has it rough cause listen major sports are still predominantly run by men, so of course every call she makes will be criticized (even if she’s right, and god forbid she misses something. It’s her fault and not her colleagues cause men suck)

• Shinichi doesn’t care that she’s a girl, but they get into it a few times when he thinks she hasn’t been calling things in favor of his team (he’s biased, she didn’t call them cause she saw what was going on and isn’t going to play into favoritism as he’s the golden child. Technically being that good just means he won’t get calls cause the league sucks anyway but still)

• anyways they start off on the wrong foot. After the game Shinichi realizes he may have been too harsh and tries to apologize, which Shiho does accept but it happens again cause there are games at stake here people!

• she isn’t assigned to all of his games of course, so they do get time to admire each other at their job when they have time off. Cause no way he isn’t watching hockey just cause he isn’t playing, and as for Shiho she used to play (we’ll get back to this later)

• during one of the games she refs with him playing, a goon on the other team is an asshole and Shinichi stands up for her. A fight occurs which leads to penalties on both sides, but she does thank him after for trying to diffuse the situation. Unfortunately some guys are assholes and shouldn’t be allowed to play in the league!!

• they slowly become more friendly with each other, and end up kinda cool with each other as time goes on. (This is meant to sorta be a slow burn, but we all know I suck at that which is why I say sorta)

• one night his team plays at home and she’s on a break after being on the job for so long. The last game she refs is that game he was in. She decides to chill and go to the bar where the boys all end up celebrating at. She doesn’t go up to them, choosing to unwind by herself while they’re all being fawned over and getting drunk. Cause they clinched play offs! Yay! He spots her anyway and offers to buy her a drink (he’s not drunk but he has been drinking), she turns him down cause it could cause trouble later on if people find out. He tells her it’s not that big of a deal, besides everyone is drunk and no one is paying attention. She still says no.

• he leaves her be, but two seconds later the bartender gives her a drink courtesy of an anonymous stranger. She naturally guesses it to be Shinichi, who winks at her but stays away for now. She decides to accept it since he’s staying away.

• he of course comes by and teases her about it, to which she rolls her eyes but she finds that he’s not terrible company.

• if it’s not obvious where this is going, then this bullet point says it all. They leave together for a drunken one night stand, in which she totally panics cause this is definitely not okay. Meanwhile he’s also like yeah this is bad but also… they can totally be professional about this.

• they are professionals about it. They don’t let what happened affect their jobs. Just one slight problem, they also can’t quite quit fooling around with each other. (Because guess what? He scores a hat trick after spending the night with her and hello superstition! So of course he’s like we gotta do it again and she’s like are you insane???)

• but they do and while he doesn’t score a hat trick again, he does still score a goal. Leading him to believe this should continue while she’s like absolutely not. It continues cause of course it does. Even though they get eliminated before making it to the cup, which gives her grounds to be like okay we can stop.

• doesn’t happen. They actually get closer during off season where they can just be them without worrying about the hockey world. Basically they fall in love for real.

• this lasts at least two seasons, hockey seasons meaning at least two years (could be longer but idk yet) Which means it’s no longer just hooking up cause they’ve both caught feelings. They even stayed together during off season in a different country where they could actually be a normal couple.

• it isn’t long until they’re basically in a secret relationship. Which is messy enough already, but wait! There’s more! To keep up with his image, Shinichi unofficially has a girlfriend. Unofficial because he’s very much not attached to anyone, but he does have a childhood best friend who thinks otherwise. Which is totally his fault for basically leading her on, cause he never flat out told her he’s not interested. Instead because he’s a softie, he tells her he’s not going to commit to anything because hockey is his life and that’s all he cares about. So she decides to wait for him, thinking when he retires then they can be together.

• now at this point Heiji and Kaito both definitely know something’s going on, but like the good bros they are, they don’t say shit. In fact they help cover it up, cause yeah their captain sleeping with a ref is not a good look when they’re trying to win another championship.

• shinshi become serious, because of course they’re in love (it’s my fic hello). He’s ready to lock it down, but he can’t cause of their jobs. Meanwhile Shiho still feels guilty and keeps thinking they should end it, but can’t get herself to actually end it.

• she basically lives at his place, her stuff is here and she spends most nights here. Ran (I swear I don’t hate her, but she fits the role better okay) notes how distant Shinichi has been, but thinking it’s normal especially during playoffs, just lets him be. But she gets a bad feeling and decides to check up on him, where she finds out about shinshi. She feels betrayed and heartbroken (as she should).

• Shinichi is surprised to see her at his home, an argument ensues. She threatens to expose his relationship unless… he chooses her instead then she will forgive him and pretend everything is fine. (To mirror my Pens, he’s nearing the end of his career and of course he would want to go out with a bang. Another cup with the boys!)

• basically choose hockey or Shiho. It’s a no brainer because I’m writing this fic, he chooses my queen. Which is so shitty for Ran, she leaves. Shiho was asleep already, but woke up when she heard their argument and she hears the ultimatum. She’s stunned when he chooses her, she decides she can’t let him ruin his career for her.

• she goes back to bed and pretends to be sleeping when he comes back in, he calls her out on faking and they have a talk. She tells him she’s not worth it, he says otherwise. Cue confession finally, and crying cause she’s happy they’re in love and it’s not just one sided on her part, but also she knows how much hockey means to him. This would ruin him. Just like how it ruined her.

• finally we get to my queen’s back story! She was a really good hockey player herself! Part of the Olympic team and won gold in the finals! For the next Olympics she was set to also compete, but a jealous team mate made up false accusations and tarnished her reputation. She was shunned by the community, until recently when it came out that she was the victim and never harmed anyone. Which is how she managed to kinda get back into the game and become a ref. Since it had been a while, no one really brought up her past or at least talked about it in depth especially since she was wronged.

• point is, she knows what it’s like to have her career ripped away from her when she wasn’t ready to let it go, so she can’t let the same thing happen to him. She leaves him and quits her job. During playoffs knowing he cannot follow her if the cup and his team are on the line. But she also secretly hopes he goes to her since the place she runs off to, is where they vacationed during the off season when their relationship first began. A small town where people knew who he was, but they let him be and they were away from cameras and stuff so they could be a normal couple.

• now this is not a norm for my fics, but I think realistically this could happen so why not. Guess what? To make things even more dramatic, she’s pregnant. When she finds out, she immediately wants to take everything back. She wants to be with him, but she pushed him away and there’s no way she can drop all this on him during the final series!

• back to the boys, Heiji and Kaito finally confront Shinichi and let him know that they knew all along. To which he’s like how?? And they’re like it was obvious plus we’re besties and also you guys suck at being secretive! You couldn’t wait to go home one time, and really? In the locker room??? But they support him cause they’ve never seen him this happy. Yes hockey is all of their lives, but they have the chance to start a family and share it with them while Shinichi has been all hockey focused. He’s finally met someone who he’s willing to break his rule of nothing serious until the end of his career.

• Shinichi apologizes cause he knows he should be focused on only the game right now, but he can’t stop thinking about her. Being on the ice is fine, but as soon as he’s away he’s thinking about her and how she left him. Then there’s also the drama with Ran

• speaking of, because she’s always known he doesn’t love her, she decides to keep his relationship with Shiho a secret. She won’t tell anyone. Which solves one problem.

• now back to quintessential lots of love things, which means there are only happily ever afters in my book (and clichés) So of course they rally and the team wins another cup! With the help of Heiji and Kaito, Shinichi is able to sneak away and get on the next flight to where he hopes/knows Shiho is.

• he was right, he finds her just as she was missing him and wondering if she should even tell him the news of her pregnancy. She’s stunned to see him, but so happy. They obviously get back together and everything turns out well. No one finds out about the inappropriateness of their relationship, since everyone in the league thinks it happened after Shiho quit.

• an epilogue of sorts. Shinshi is married and their baby boy is healthy. Shinichi is at home watching over their son, because Shiho is back on the ice again. It’s been a long time coming, but she’s finally able to make a comeback. If their son doesn’t end up playing hockey too it would be a shame given how it’s in both his parents’ blood.

The end. That’s my basic outline of this fic that I dreamed up immediately after realizing I could totally write this verse. I have the American football and baseball one sorta planned out too. But with it being hockey season, and this was the one I had a complete vision of, I decided to bullet point it out here first. Which hopefully means I won’t actually have to write the fic now that I’ve just rambled about it here.

#cynply dreaming out loud #shinshi #CoAi #just like with my American football verse there will be hockey terms and positions and stuff mentioned #but for the purposes of this outline I don’t need to go into detail #anyways my Pens swept their road games! and we’re not last in the metro anymore! #I just know that if I do write this fic I’ll have no chill and it’ll be a whole thing #I could include outdoor/all star games and team rivalries #so many things that I’m not gonna talk about right now cause I will not shut up #also I know no one cares about sports. it’s why I don’t try and ramble about it on tumblr #but I love it so much and this verse is a chance for me to go wild #but I also don’t have time to write it so we will settle for a bullet point fic #I keep saying I’m gonna write all of these verses but we all know that’s not happening even if I’ve planned everything out #also I know this is shinshi centric but this verse has lots of brotp moments cause hello sports #I just didn’t include them in this outline cause it would make it even longer #I have a lot of feelings about my core and they will be projected here plus I love brotps it’s why I’m a sports fan

[persefolli]

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞

𝐃𝐮𝐡! 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝/𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫."

Cooper adjusted his hat and walked among the sandy terrain of what used to be shady sands. He hated this place, hated how dead it was, hated the fact he remembered what it once was.

He dragged his feet along the rocks until he came to a stop in the shade. He looked up and saw the still-standing billboard for Nuka-Cola. Your face was plastered on it, a bright smile holding a bottle of America’s favorite soda. Cooper walked to an old car wreckage and sat against it, staring up at your face with his mouth hanging open. This was the only piece of the past that helped him to never forget your face. That's why as much as he hated it, he never wanted to leave Shady Sands.

“Cooper!” You squealed, running into the apartment with a paper in your hands. You dropped your boots and purse and ran up to him. “I got it! I got the part! I'm gonna be a Cola Girl!”

Cooper took the paper from your hands and scanned the contract, along with the details of the photo shoot. “A cowgirl theme hm? Wanna dig in my closet.”

“Uh. YES!” You exclaimed.

That was his hat you were wearing on the billboard. The same hat he had on his head now.

You came from the closet, holding up the pants that jingled with every movement.

“You need a belt baby.”

“I couldn’t find one!”

Cooper chuckled and went to the other side of the closet and kneeled to wrap the belt around your waist and secure the pants against your waist.

“Don’t I make a good cowgirl?” You said in a false southern accent. Cooper smiled as you approached him. You made guns out of your fingers and pulled the hat down. “There's an old Mexican Eulogy…” You recited one of his most famous lines. Cooper picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked the two of you to the living room couch. “Feo, Fuerte y Formal.” The two of you said in unison as he sat.

Cooper wheezed and took a large gulp of radiated water as he stared up at you. That smile was genuine, he would know.

“Big smile. Big smile. We want those beautiful white teeth up on our screens.” The photographer encouraged you.

You moved a lot, giving them multiple poses to choose from.

Cooper stood behind the camera, smiling as he saw you in a signature western outfit, posing for the upcoming Nuka-Cola campaign.

“Now take a refreshing drink.”

You cracked open the cola bottle and raised it to drink it, but you miscalculated and the cool soda fell on your chest instead of in your mouth. “Oh shit!” You exclaimed, and multiple people came to help you dab the excess liquid off.

“I’ll go change! Take 30?” You said looking at the crew who agreed.

You groaned and headed to your dressing room with Cooper on your heels. As soon as the two of you got inside he grabbed you by the waist, causing you to squeal. The two of you crash landed into the couch, kissing passionately. His hands grabbed at your breasts and you moaned into his lips. “I’ll help you clean up.” He said while licking your neck, tasting the sticky substance of soda on your neck.

You moaned softly as he kissed his way down, unbuttoning the top buttons of your blouse and placing kisses on the outline of your bra.

Cooper felt sick staring at your chest on the billboard. Sick. But he missed you dearly. He missed your touch. He had the real thing, and lost it all. He felt tears threatening his eyes and held his breath, constricting his air on purpose. Your image became blurry and he let out a yell. He huffed and hissed, pulling out his gun quickly and holding it to his head. He could be with you, after 200 years he could feel your love again.

He panted and stared at the billboard before dropping the gun. He wouldn't do that, not in front of you . He couldn’t traumatize you, that's not what he wanted. That's not what you would want.

Cooper guzzled down another large amount of radiated water, not caring that it was spilling out of his mouth and everywhere else. He just sat and stared at his girl.

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x reader angst #the ghoul x reader fluff #the ghoul angst #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fic #cooper howard angst #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #fallout #fallout x reader

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

January Week 1

Welcome welcome to the 2024 Grimoire Challenge! Time to really get started everyone! This week will have a lot of stuff all jammed in. So buckle up, grab your grimoire and your supplies, and let’s get to work!

Monday

Name your book - this may seem silly and you definitely don’t need to name your book. Not properly at least. Other than “my grimoire” or “book of shadows” or what have you, which is totally fine. But some of us might feel the need to give it a proper title. “The Basil Grimoire” or “Hazel’s Handwritten Workings” something, anything, that ties the book to you and your craft. Make a title page! If you feel so inclined. If not, that’s fine too.

Definitions (New Page) - ritual and spell. Let’s define a few things. Make a page specifically for definitions, that we’ll add to through the challenge. Let’s start with a couple simple definitions. Define spell. And define ritual. Within the confines of magic, witchcraft and your practice. What is a spell? What is a ritual? What are the differences?

Study (herb) - Pick another herb from that list we made, and dig into the details. Make a page for it on its own, or add its info to another page! Whatever works for your craft. The questions to ask for these study prompts are going to continue to remain the same. Where did it come from, where does it grow, how does it grow, what are its mundane and practical uses. What are the myths and legends and stories surrounding the herb? What are its magical properties and why/ how do you think the other information you've learned about it have influenced its magical associations?

Tuesday

Outline/ index (New Page!) - it helped me a great deal to have an index or outline to my grimoire. I started this as a file on my computer as my grimoire grew and changed I could more easily manage it and rearrange it as I saw fit. Then eventually I could make it into a handwritten copy.

Study (gem) - Like our herb prompt, the gem prompts are going to always use the same outline and questions. Where does the gem come from? What is it used for in a practical and mundane sense? What are its physical properties? What are any myths, legends or stories? Where and how does it form? How does all of that relate to its magical correspondences and what does the herb mean to and for you in your craft?

Spellwriting 101 (New Page!) - make a new page dedicated to spellwriting. This is going to be one of those prompts that is focused on you and your craft. How do you write spells? How do you set them up? What components do you use? What is the format? How is it done? What does it require? From materials to timing and circumstances? Write it all out in your lab notebook. Make it a work in progress. Not all spells are going to work out the same or function the same as you perform them, but having a general layout and method helps to focus your practice.

Wednesday

Common tools - What are the common tools in your craft? That is, you don't need to have a list of every single tool ever used in witchcraft, just the tools that you use in yours. Both regularly and less regularly. What are they used for specifically? What purposes do they serve in the magical and practical sense? Are they ceremonial and symbolic or do they serve an actual physical purpose? (i.e. a wand used to direct energy serves many purposes, while an incense burner could literally just be that, an incense burner)

Year outline/ calendar - not everyone celebrates the same days, holidays or even the same holidays the same way. What are the special occasions and days in your calendar? Mark them and when the proper season/ holiday comes around, we can make pages dedicated to those days. This week this will simply be a list of these days, while later we will actually make pages for them individually. Think of it like the Wheel of the Year, Yule to Midsummer and so on. What days are important to you and your practice? Are they actual holidays? Or simply days of power like the full moon? Or is it simply days that are significant for other reasons, like the anniversary of the day you began practicing witchcraft?

Practical - tool usage - practice using your tools. For example if you use a wand. Practice using it to direct energies or whatever it is you utilize it for.

Thursday

Altar design/ work space (New Page!) - make a page dedicated to your altar and its setup. Why are things where they are? The reasoning can be simple as “that’s where it fits” or you can give it a more meaningful reason. Candles in front of or behind something to represent some purpose. Do you have items that represent the elements? Deities? Different sources of power or directionality? Different colors for different meanings? Why is your altar the way it is?

Practical - cleansing space - practice cleansing your space and tools. This is of course a physical and 'energetic' cleansing. Tidy it up, redecorate your space, clean the tools if they have dust or ash or anything on them. Sometimes it is good to have a clean start.

Friday

Personal practices - this is just a thought provoking prompt tied in with the Journal prompt below. What are some of your personal practices that you've brought into your witchcraft? Anything from little habits from your every day life to things brought from religion or family traditions. No matter how hard we try, we carry within us echoes of things not related to our practices into it. And that is totally okay. Recognizing them, acknowledging them, and truly incorporating them can be a huge step toward understanding ourselves, our beliefs and our practices all around.

Journal/ introspective/ meditations - Think about the above and write any of it down that you come to terms with. Self understanding is important in and outside of witchcraft.

Thank you all and I hope this week's prompts aren't too overwhelming! Stay tuned next week for the next set of prompts!

-Mod Hazel

#2024 grimoire challenge #grimoire #grimoire challenge #paganism #witchcraft #witchblr #witchy #2024 gc #book of shadows #dark academia #occult #occultism #magick #magic #witch challenge #witchy challenge #book of magic #grimoire info #grimoire inspiration

[daizymax]

the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2024 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

#felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #the ways we love #daizymax

[nanowrimo]

Beyond the Word Count: A Book Editor's Guide to Writing a First Draft

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a beautifully designed writing app for fiction writers. Today, they've partnered with Kelly Norwood-Young, former book editor for Pan Macmillan and Penguin Random House, to bring you some pro tips on writing your first draft:

In my career as a book editor, I’ve reviewed hundreds of manuscripts. I've seen the joy of authors creating compelling tales, but also how disheartening it can be to rewrite a disjointed story. I’m here to give you some strategies to address common pitfalls so that you not only reach your NaNoWriMo goal, but also lay the groundwork for a manuscript that truly deserves to be called a gripping novel.

1. Have a plan.

Even if you’re more of a ‘pantser’ than a ‘planner’, it's really helpful to have an outline. I have two favourite approaches for this: the structure-first approach, and what I call the ‘Phoebe Waller-Bridge approach’.  

The structure-first approach

There are a lot of narrative frameworks for story structure, but the most foundational in Western fiction is the three-act structure. Here’s a handy guide that breaks each of the classical three acts into a day-by-day guide to NaNoWriMo: 

8-day guide to Act 1

14-day guide to Act 2

8-day guide to Act 3

The Phoebe Waller-Bridge approach

I love this quote from Phoebe Waller-Bridge: ‘I’ve never thought structure first. I’ve always thought material first, jokes first, character first ... But knowing the end really helps. Then you just go as far away from the end emotionally as you possibly can.’  

Sketch out your major story arcs, your character’s desires and conflicts, and the world they inhabit. The more you know your story's world and inhabitants, the less you'll stray into scenes that lack purpose or create plot and character inconsistencies. 

2. Keep the story moving.

Each word needs to propel your story forward. Superfluous details or tangents that don’t serve the narrative stall the momentum you’re trying to generate for your reader. 

There’s a trick you can use to move your story forward, called the question of reversibility. Ask yourself: How difficult would it be for my character to reverse their decision? The harder it would be for them to turn back, the more you’ve moved the plot forward. 

3. Plant clues carefully.

Plant important elements early and make sure every element, however subtle, serves a purpose (i.e. Chekhov’s Gun). 

Be sure to set up necessary components for your climax so that you can steer clear of Deus ex Machina (having that strong outline will help you here), and avoid red herrings unless they serve a clear, meaningful purpose (e.g. you’re writing a mystery and your readers expect some false leads). Misleading your readers without a payoff can erode their trust.

4. Write for the reader, not yourself.

‘There is only one thing you write for yourself, and that is a shopping list,’ insists Umberto Eco in On Literature. Even if writing, for you, is a therapeutic outlet, a form of self-expression, or a way to leave a legacy, you’re still writing to say something to someone else. Your story simply won’t be as strong if you forget your reader’s perspective. 

5. Keep daily editorial notes for your future self.

While editing should wait until at least December, end each day with a brief reflection, noting any off-course deviations, potential inconsistencies, areas to research further, or moments of inspiration to revisit when you start editing. 

These daily notes will be invaluable during the editing process, helping you to remember insights that are no longer fresh when you come back to the manuscript later.

6. Embrace the first-draft mentality.

There’s a lot you can do to ensure that your first draft is the best it can be before the end of November—but just as important is to understand that all first drafts have flaws.

As a book editor, I've witnessed manuscripts transform, sometimes unrecognizably, from their first drafts. Embrace the uncertainty and creative detours—because it's from this beautiful chaos that your story will find its true voice. 

Kelly Norwood-Young is a seasoned book editor and proofreader with comprehensive experience across various facets of manuscript editing. Her background includes roles at Pan Macmillan and Penguin Books, extending into a successful freelance career working with award-winning authors. Kelly's work, known for its precision and sensitivity to the author's voice, has been integral to the success of both new and established writers globally.

Try out First Draft Pro: All NaNoWriMo participants can use the discount code NANOWRIMO2023 for 20% off a premium subscription to First Draft Pro! Offer expires January 31, 2024.

#nanowrimo #writing #first draft #writing advice #by nano sponsor #first draft pro #kelly norwood-young #plot #planning

[solisaureus]

how do you write a fic and make it like

long?

ok actually i did give a brief workshop in a fandom server on this once. Here’s the sparknotes:

Stage 1: brainstorming

- decide the topic of your story. write down the idea that sparked your inspiration and start there. this is your core concept from which everything else arises. write down everything that you come up with when thinking about your story, even if you don’t end up incorporating it.

- if you don’t have ideas, most of my fic ideas arise when talking about my fav characters with friends who also love them.

- pin down a few essential aspects of your core concept. is it an AU or canon compliant? ship vs gen? is it going to focus on an overarching plot or a particular character’s personal journey? what ao3 rating do you expect it to be? what trope tags do you think you’ll add?

- make a pinterest board and a playlist for your fic concept. i’m serious this helps you solidify the tone, setting, and mood of your story and can provide more inspiration

Stage 2: outlining

- now that you know what your fic is gonna be about, it’s time to break down the story and make it a complete narrative. Your outline can be as detailed or as bare bones as you want. some writers don’t make an outline at all, but i cannot even begin to comprehend their power, and if you’ve never written a long work before i highly recommend starting with an outline.

- the two most important things to keep in mind during this stage are PACING and STRUCTURE. Characterization is secondary in this stage but still important. Now is the time to establish the setting and the major plot beats.

- decide the narrator, point of view, and tense during this stage

- if you’re stuck for ideas, here’s a cheat for pacing — come up with just 3 things: a goal, a time limit, and stakes. What does your protagonist want to accomplish, how long do they have to do it, and what are the consequences if they don’t achieve it in the time limit? Character A is in love with Character B and wants to be with them (goal), but Character B is moving away at the end of the summer (time limit). Character B risks rejection, and losing their friendship with Character A (stakes). Boom, you already have the skeleton of a story. Try to identify these elements in your favorite stories, it helps you practice this and can give you ideas for your own story. Frodo has to deliver the Ring to Mt. Doom (goal) before Sauron’s armies overwhelm Gondor (time limit) or else the world will fall into shadow (stakes). Obviously, this is just one plot formula among a wide variety and there’s no one right way to write a story, but it can get you started.

- Another way you can start is by detailing some exposition events, some rising actions, a climax, and resolution. If you already have a climactic scene in mind, you just need to figure out how your characters get there and what they do afterwards.

- once your outline is done, you should have a general feel for how long the project will be

Stage 3: drafting

- now it’s time to write the damn thing. sounds simple but it’s not

- practice getting into Da Writing Zone. when it’s time for me to get serious, I have a few video game soundtracks i’ll put on through my noise cancelling headphones, i’ll make myself some tea, and i’ll light a candle. i have basically conditioned myself to write when i hear the journey soundtrack or when i smell my pomegranate candle.

- Each scene that you write should serve a purpose in the overall narrative. I personally determine whether each scene contributes to at least one of the following: worldbuilding, progressing the plot, or characterization. a good scene will accomplish two or even all three.

- consider the voice, whether you’re writing from first or third person. are you telling the story with stern reverence, poetic wonder, snarky indifference? consistency in voice strengthens the story.

- keep suspense in mind, too. you dont want the protagonist to know everything right away — be intentional about what information they learn and when. what the protagonist knows and what the reader knows can differ, too — this is the source of dramatic irony. or you can keep the reader ignorant and have them discover plot elements at the same time as your protag. the intrigue!

- take your time. pace yourself. writing is hard and you don’t have a deadline when it comes to fanfiction. if you’re in a rut, something that i do is that i force myself to write 200 words — if i do that and i’m still not feeling it, i stop there and try again in a few days, but a lot of the time i just keep writing once i get past that hurdle of just starting.

- beginnings are always hard. keep in mind that this is just your draft — whatever you write doesn’t have to be the final version. just start at a point that seems interesting to you.

- as a general rule of thumb, if you’re bored writing something, it’ll be boring to read, too. you may tell yourself that you HAVE to write this dry section about worldbuilding or write how the characters get from one place to another, but do you really? how much would it affect the story if you skipped that? can you approach it another way, or work it in in another scene?

stage 4: editing

- kill your darlings. if something you wrote is out of place or unnecessary for the story, but you like it anyway, get rid of it. save it in another document for outtakes, but don’t give into the idea that a section is valuable just because you spent time on it.

- having a second set of eyes on your draft is a game changer. if you can get a friend (ideally another writer) to beta read your draft and make comments, it can make a huge difference. i always like to thank my beta readers when i post a fic because i appreciate their input so much!

- now is a good time to decide whether you want to post chapters as you write them or write everything first and post it all at once (or on a posting schedule). there are benefits and drawbacks to both but you know yourself best!

- once you are happy with your draft, post it! :)

stage 5: stamina

- writing is hard, and writing a long fic is really hard. even if you’re super passionate about a project when you start it, you will probably lose steam at some point depending on how long it is. at times you will be discouraged and unmotivated. it helps to have a friend who has volunteered to be your designated hype man for this fic. i like to have at least one person who i KNOW is awaiting my next chapter.

- the fact that you don’t get paid for writing fic means you have to balance your writing time with your life and responsibilities. you might have to take a hiatus. coming back to the project after a while can be hard — this is where those pinterest boards and playlists you made back in stage 1 come in. they help get you back into the groove of the story when you’ve lost inspiration!

- when all else fails, try reading books or fanfiction. it counts as writing. words in > words out. bonus points if you journal/leave ao3 comments about things you noticed and enjoyed about it (or, if you didn’t like something, what about it left you dissatisfied. don’t write this in an ao3 comment though keep it to yourself), it genuinely helps you get better at writing. like it makes writing easier

- believe in yourself!!! believe in me who believes in you!!!!

#ask #ssavinggrace #robin text #writing advice #fic writing

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Finally finished the outline of Daughter of the Rain and Snow and I know exactly how the ending is going down almost pretty much (details are blurry, but plot and character arcs are completely outlined and ready to write instead of just bullet points or vague ideas) so out of interest (won’t necessarily stick to it 100% but would still like to know) what would anyone like to see next if you would like to continue reading my stuff?

Explanations below cut

Sequel

I have every intention to write this one, I have characters but thus far not a main plot more of just the premise. Would follow Ahra, Evan, Yara, maybe Vix, and maybe Lilia as our young Dregs and start around when Kaz and Inej left for Ravka since the Dregs was kinda on the verge of collapse whoops. Can’t go into too much detail or they’ll be spoilers for the current fic but there’d be the opportunity for some Aimee and Kiada, and Kanej would still be present but they might not be in focus (again, can’t explain too much or they’ll be spoilers). There might even be some Fiona or some Maya stuff who knows

I really want to write this bc I really want to write Ahra’s story so it’ll probably end up coming around at some point but I realise it might not be the most interesting to y’all when it’s mostly ocs so yeah

Feliks had been more than lenient with Ahra. He’d been the only person who ever gave her a real job - playing her violin in the reception of the White Rose - and when things had predictably gone haywire he’d been good enough to only turn her away, not Evan too. Ahra hadn’t much cared for the job, she loved her violin but she did not enjoy watching the Rose’s clients come and go and she certainly hadn’t cared for having her skin paled and her hair Tailored white for such purposes, but it was easy money and enough to keep them ticking over as all of Evan’s funds petered away on overpriced little medicine bottles. She studied the thin stack of kruge in her hand, thinking of Kaz standing opposite her in the alley by the Slat.

“I don’t need your charity, Brekker,”

“And far be it from me to offer you any,”

Not charity, but she didn’t doubt Dirtyhands had his own purposes in paying her for a job she failed to finish. Still, cash was cash. And medicine was medicine. She tucked it back into her breast pocket and tapped it lightly, slipping round the corner and pulling a bone light from her jacket.

What Evan didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Helnik

This was an idea I had a looooong time ago and I shared a little snippet scene on here, but then I started writing Daughter of the Rain and Snow and never looked back. I really want to write this one I think it could be pretty cool, it would be relatively short set in between Crooked Kingdom and King of Scars and take place in Ravka; based on a headcanon I have about Nina learning how to use her new power and as a result of it experiencing hallucinations of Matthias being with her that she is fully convinced are real. Following Nina, Zoya, and Genya as they try to navigate this and worry that they shouldn’t let Nina got to Fjerda in this state.

“What time is it?” she mumbled into the cushions.

“A little after seven bells,”

“Saints, how disgusting,”

Nina sighed, in a mixture of content and tiredness. The luxury of the Little Palace was a mostly welcome change from crawling in next to Matthias in the tomb at Black Veil - or even of the hotel room at the Geldrenner. They’d shared a sofa, so close to each other; limbs entangled, chest against her back so she could feel his heart beating. A steady rhythm, no matter what he was feeling. The big bed here was more comfortable, but the closeness felt like an aching absence, as though the few feet between them spanned for miles. She reached out behind her and found something soft that she decided was his arm.

“Come closer,” she whispered, and she imagined the way he’d smile.

He would press her fingers to his lips and she would roll over to face him. She’d reach out and touch his cheek, and he would catch her hands in his.

“Witch,”

“Barbarian,”

“Little Red Bird,” he would say, just before his lips met hers

The sunlight would be warm and soft on their skin as they moved closer, as she felt his heart beating beneath her fingers.

But he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t come closer, or kissed her fingers, or brushed his lips against hers. He had not gently pushed her hand down towards his wrist so their fingers could intertwine.

“Matthias?”

Nina made the mistake of rolling over, and began to scream.

Wesper

There’s a line in Crooked Kingdom where Jesper says if Van Eck really couldn’t cope with Wylan not being able to read he could have told people he was blind, the point being that still would’ve been wrong but that everything he’d resorted to was unnecessary and Wylan shouldn’t feel like it was his fault. So this would be an au where Van Eck did exactly that and Wesper attend Ketterdam university together; Wylan grapples with his father being the worst and falling for Jesper as he fears telling him the truth, Jesper grapples with addiction and wanting to stay at university partly for the sake of falling for Wylan.

Jesper leaned in, pushing one of Wylan’s curls back off his face.

“It’s pity you can’t see how beautiful your eyes are,”

Wylan blushed, letting Jesper run his hand over his cheek and tilt his face up towards his own. Jesper leaned forward but then Wylan squirmed, just slightly, and Jesper tensed as he pulled his hand away.

“And me, of course,” he added, letting his voice take on a teasing lilt to brush past the moment, “It’s a shame you don’t know how gorgeous I am,”

Wylan almost smiled, but he had stepped away.

“I- erm,” he brushed his fingers through the lock of hair Jesper had moved and cleared his throat, “Excuse me,”

And then he was gone.

#six of crows #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kanej #Wesper #helnik #soc fics #Soc fic #six of crows fic #six of crows fandom #six of crows fanfic #grishaverse fandom #grishaverse fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

[ladysomething]

Well, I lasted three update emails. I was holding out on starting your new fic so I could binge a lot of chapters at once, but after getting the update email today I just couldn’t wait and to no one’s surprise, I loved every minute of it! Such an interesting world you’ve created and it’s only going to get better (for us, for Charles who knows).

I do have to ask since I’m not a fic writer - when you say you’re expecting this to be around 150-180k is that daunting for you as a writer or exciting? Right now you’re averaging around 8,000 words a chapter so with that average that’s around 20 chapters and with possible (please don’t view this as pressure) weekly updates that’s 20ish weeks of fic! I’m always so curious if this seems overwhelming to writers? I know as a reader it’s so damn exciting.

lol can you tell I’m a numbers girl and not a writer?

ah thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and I totally understand the urge to want to wait. I'm excited you're coming along on the journey anyway!

moving on to your question, I'll try to be succinct but to nobody's surprise I am an absolute yapper so it probably will be a long and winding answer.

I think firstly, you kind of almost explained it yourself, but in the opposite way. I'm a writer, not a numbers girl haha. I personally (though other writers may have different experiences) don't really think about how many chapters it will be, or how many weeks of uploads, so there is really no opportunity for it to be daunting because it doesn't really enter my mind.

The outline I have for this fic IS broken into chapters, but I already am not sticking to it. When I'm writing, I often explore a scene in much more detail (and therefore many more words) that I expected when writing the note for scene. e.g. today's chapter was like "1. Charles goes into pre-heat 2. max claims Charles 3. Pierre shows up" and then it ended up being 10k. I just finished writing chapter 6, which is also at 10k, and I've ended up having to shift half of what I outlined for chapter 6 into chapter 7 because I found a natural end point and I didn't want to end up with a 20k chapter.

so, for me at least, when I write I make a lot of decisions based on my instincts. does this scene need more, or is it dragging? is this chapter complete, or does more need to be added? is there too much in this chapter, and should I split it?

all of which is to say - my estimate of 150-180k is based on how much I have written so far (55k) and at what point in the story am I up to (I honestly don't think act 1 is done yet). I suspect my estimate of 150-180k is very low, and it's not getting to that word count that's daunting, because it's not what I'm actually working towards.

what IS daunting is trying to tell the story itself. are the characters right? are their intentions coming through? am I hiding what I want to hide? do I have a note of plot I've started at the beginning so I make sure I follow it through to the end? working towards answering those questions is what I'm thinking about, and that is always daunting, no matter whether its 10k or 200k (though.... PWP is always fairly mindless hahaha).

but it IS exciting. especially when people love something. I've written a lot of fic in my time, long and short, complete and not complete, and I can absolutely guarantee that the difference between exciting and daunting is how people react. when people love something ... the nerves are there, but they're eclipsed by the sheer joy of knowing you brought a smile to somebody's face with your writing.

not to get sappy, but I whole-heartedly believe that my purpose on this earth is to make people happy through my writing. if I know that I'm doing that, I could write 200k fic after 200k fic and die a happy woman.

I hope that kind of answered your question anon! long and winding, but fairly thorough? haha

#where you go i go #lestappen #lestappen fic #fic #fanfic

[writingquestionsanswered]

Stuck On Over Planning

Anonymous asked: For some reason I cannot write my book- I keep focusing on the outline. I want to write a series and have plenty of stuff mapped out already, but for some reason I can’t seem to write? Like there’s enough in the outline to start writing a first draft but I can’t seem to get past the thought of- if I don’t have everything to the last detail planned out I can’t write- and that’s for the whole four books in general. Any tips? Also: do you have any posts about character arcs? Thank you so much!

(Note: Question edited for length...)

Everyone requires a different amount of planning, but even if you're someone who wants to plan to the last detail, there's still a limit. When planning is keeping you from writing, you've reached that limit.

Here are some things to keep in mind:

1 - It isn't possible to plan every detail of your story in advance, because no matter how well you've planned, your story will take you places and have requirements you didn't expect.

2 - World building details can be a bottomless pit of things that will never actually make an appearance in your story, so watch out for that. If your character doesn't need to forage for plants in the forest, you don't need to plan out every type of plant that grows in the forest.

3 - Providing details to your reader serves two purposes: the first purpose it serves is to tell the reader what they need to know in order to understand the plot, characters, and setting. The second purpose details serve is to help the reader visualize the events and world of the story. However, just as how a sponge can only soak up so much water, the reader is only capable of soaking up so much detail. When you put too much detail into the story, the reader won't absorb it anyway, so it ends up being a waste. That's why it's so important to be very thoughtful about the details you put in the story and, by proxy, which details you take the time to plan.

4 - There's absolutely nothing wrong with figuring some things out as you go. If you're not exactly sure what one character's arc is going to be, don't feel like you have to plan it out to the final detail before you can start writing. Quite often, those things will become apparent as you write. There may be an internal conflict there you never even imagined.

5 - The time to start writing is now. Just start. You're ready.

Here's my Character Arc Tips post. Happy writing! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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

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[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

When you are writing a new chapter for a fic, how do you decide what to put in, and what to leave out?

I see a lot of advice about killing your darlings - whittling the scene down until it contains only what's necessary to advance the plot.

But I also see advice that says it's okay to include more than this, because you need to advance the characters as well, by giving them quiet moments in between all of the plot advancing parts.

I really struggle to find the balance. I love writing the quiet moments, and fleshing the characters out, but sometimes these moments run away on me, and I end up with a bloated mess that barely advances the plot at all.

Do you have a process or a rule-of-thumb you follow, to help you decide what does or doesn't make the cut?

How easy do you find it to remove stuff later, when you realize the story is better without it? Do you cry and have wine while you bury your dead, or are you a ruthless assassin? :)

Oh man, great question.

I’m going to answer for what for my original fiction. I don’t heavily edit my fanfics in any meaningful capacity, as any of my readers can attest, since that is my hobby and editing is work. Also, since it is my hobby, I am pretty self indulgent with what I include. I meander and wander all over the place with my plots and don’t keep them as tight as they probably need to be.

Exhibit A, the visual representation of the plot of Thus, Always 2.0 (one line being present day and the second being the past):

But for my original fiction, there’s a very long, drawn out process of editing.

For House of No Return, the current book (known as The Venetians in my tags), I wrote out the first draft. In that draft I put all the self indulgent stuff I wanted. Character studies, side plots, random asides, plot cul-de-sacs, and so on.

Then, when done, I rewrote the entire thing. Top to bottom second draft. This is because, by the time I was done with draft one, I knew my characters a lot better than when I started. I knew, more clearly, the story I wanted to tell. I had a better vision of how the plot should work.

Once the second (or third) draft is done, I let it sit. Ideally, you should let it sit for a few months. I don’t have patience and am riddled with a deep need to always be writing, so I can usually only make it a few weeks.

When I take it back out, I print out the manuscript and read it in one or two sittings. This is because I need to remember what the fuck I was doing. As I read, I make margin notes of where I bump or where things drag a bit. My second read through is much more methodical. I sit with a note book and jot out a detailed outline as I read. When I eventually type them up they usually look something like this:

As I read through the outline, that’s where I can see if there are baggy parts that need trimming. When I note them, I decide whether to completely remove, or shorten, or shift to another part of the story, or if I can convey any central information in other areas.

Sometimes colour coding helps – highlighting all the parts that are faster paced in red, the slower bits in green, the pure character study bits in blue (or what have you). The visual representation helps me, at least, see if there’s a part that’s bunched up with only one colour and may need to be broken out a bit.

I make edits to my outline in blue, usually, of what needs to be added or changed when I go to do the next big rewrite.

--

Throughout this whole outline review process, I’m also thinking through what sort of plot pattern/design best serves the story. There are a lot out there and each has a purpose and can strengthen aspects of the story that’s being told.

Good reference: Meander, Spiral, Explode: Design and Pattern in Narrative by Jane Alison.  

For House of No Return, it’s a pretty classic mountain form: start | rising action | point no return | climax | resolution.

Something a bit like this with the little plateaus representing times when the plot slows for a bit to allow the reader a break and an opportunity to sit with a character or an emotion or some new information.

These breaks can also ratchet up tension and help keep people on the edge of their seat. The horror genre is a great example of this. You know that when we’re having a quiet character moment, or a humourous moment, we’re about to get something horrific on the other side of it and we’re in trepidation until it happens. But the book can’t be all horrific moments or else the audience gets bored.

(Unless the author is Doing Something/There’s a Purpose Being Served in having 85,000-100,000 words of only horrific moments. Which can abosolutely be the case! Again, it’s about what you’re trying to do, how to best tell the story, and fundamentally what that story needs to be.)

Grief and trauma writing also benefit from the breaks. I think about this in fics where it’s all bleak torture and there’s no resting or lighter moments—it’s hard on the audience. Which, again, can be the author’s intent! And that’s fine! But usually if you want to keep people going with you on the journey you need to give them breaks. That is just reality.

So, when writing the classic model I would say write, write, write. Get every thing onto the page. Every little indulgement moment, every little character study etc.

Then think about how you want the story to be paced. Do you want it a heart pounding fast paced piece? Then yeah, trim it down to mostly bare bones with just enough breaks for character study/get the audience invested in who they’re reading about and to give them a bit of a breather. But it should be super tight, over all.

Steep, steep, steep – little moments here and there for a break – then shattering fall and people should be reading going “what the fuuuuck is going to happen next??” (Grady Hendrix is a master of this.)

 Some traditional mountains, though, are slower.

There's a long, langurous start. We’re all along for a gentle ride then it begins to build bit by bit until we realize we’re riding down the Tuscan hillside in a cart with no breaks.

This is the sort of story where you can really relish your character studies and soft moments between people and little side bits. But you do need to keep enough movement to keep the audience interested. This is one that is harder to pull off because the balance can be tricky.

I tend to write like this. Hilary Mantel has books that hit this kind of approach. Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Mexican Gothic is a good example of a slow burn start but a good ride at the end. Laura Purcell’s The Silent Companions is another example.

-

All that said, not all stories need to follow the traditional approach! Some are meant to be tangled meditations. A lot of weaving, a lot of introspection, the story is more about the journey and not the destination. Sometimes the plots look a little like this:

Peak Literary Experimental Fiction shit right here. This can be a lot of character study, a lot of philosophical musings, a lot tangents or backtracking or jumping around a little. Justin Torres’ Blackouts is a great example of a meandering story that is as much about the characters and their conversations as it is about queerness and history.

Other stories are meant to be rolling hills or waves: up and down, up and down.

Jane Austin has a bit of a wave quality to some of her stories, not all, but some. Long, drawn out family epics that span generations tend to have this quality to them. Books like Pillars of the Earth tend to be more wavey than mountain climax.

-----

Anyway. I've done a diversion myself. Back to editing.

When I’m doing my trimming, I don’t have an exact process for determining what makes the cut or what stays. I go with my gut on a lot of it. Sometimes, there are scenes that are hitting the same note but coming at it in different ways.

Cristof’s anxiety over his friend’s gambling addiction, and his guilt around feeling as if he is enabling it, is something I overwrote in the first few drafts because I was trying to understand the psychology of their friendship and Cristof’s own inner demons. Therefore, as I trimmed, I picked three key things that the audience needed to know about Cristof and Jacopo and made sure those were captured. I cut and trimmed accordingly.

However, I do have some babies that get reused in different places once I realize the original scene wasn’t working.

This stupid joke was originally in a completely different scene and was said by different characters but that scene wasn’t working and so I had to cut it. But I was very enamoured with this little interaction, so I found a way to incorporate it.

-

It’s also important to remember that some character studies/the resting pauses can be brief. By all means write out the full seven page version but I bet it’s possible to trim it down to a really powerful short beat that can pack a bit of a punch. Writing out the full seven pages is sometimes necessary to get at the heart of what you’re trying to say. Then cut it back.

I had a full multi-page version of this paragraph:

But it’s a rest-beat in the middle of the apothecary/barbershop scene that is moving the plot along, and therefore this memory/character beat needed to be tight. Still, we get a bit of a glimpse at Cristof and Nicolo through it, and while it might not seem important on the surface, we do need to care about these two idiots and the fact that they’re dumb about each other and in love.  

-

Quiet moments can also be interspersed within action. You can weave them through, so you have:

Active Scene/Plot Moving

Restful introspection or memory

Back to the Active Scene.

If done right it can give a bit of a melodious, wave-like quality to what you’re writing. It’s not for every story, nor every scene, and shouldn’t be overused (I may be guilty of that), but it allows you to still get in those meaningful character moments without stopping the plot too much.

As for the ease with which I kill darlings? Depends on the darling. Some are easier than others. Some I like, but if I can incorporate the important bits in another fashion then I’m fine with it. The more I write, the more I edit, the more ruthless I become.

--

A lot of this is, fundamentally, all about practice and doing it a lot. And also all writing rules aren’t rules so much as broad guidelines and each story has its own needs and requirements to make it work.

Apologies for the long reply. I'm not sure it's what you're after but I hope it helps. There is, unfortunately, no "quick trick" that I have to do it. It's really just a very involved process.

#writing #writing is messy and hard and long sometimes #ask #reply #anon #thank you!! #the venetians

[ladytauria]

💖 and 🧠 from the ask game <33

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

my writing voice! i used to hate re-reading my own writing but now i can do so comfortably, even when i pick up on mistakes i missed or things i would change <3

i'm also fairly proud of my imagery, lol. that was something i worked hard to develop, and while i DO forget to like... describe things still when im writing, when i do remember/go back to add that in i feel more confident in my results lol

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

i have SO MANY of these

okay. i counted up the ones i have fleshed out outlines for, since there's more to talk about, and then i rolled a die <3

so! it's a jaytim fic inspired by the lyric, "why do you make me want to leave the world behind?" from the song stardust by new politics. the rest of the song doesn't actually fit, & i'll probs end up not using that line as the title, lol.

my outline for it is almost more of a not-fic than an outline, so... i'll just paste that in here, ig. pls excuse my brackets <3

why do you make me want to leave the world behind?

Jason couldn’t tell you what the final straw was. Maybe it was the last argument he got into with Bruce. Maybe it was hearing Joker’s laugh, again, echoing through the streets of Gotham. Maybe it was the gunshot he took to the shoulder, a few weeks ago. It— The point is, it could have been any number of things. Whatever the final straw, one thing is clear: he can’t do this any more.

And it’s not that he wants to abandon Crime Alley, or his people, it’s just—

He’s tired. He’s been tearing himself apart for the mission since he was twelve. He died, even—only to come back and keep doing it. And now… He’s just… done. He wants to live, and he can’t do that when the mission controls his life. He needs out.

Thing is…

He can’t leave Tim.

Tim is… somewhere along the way, Tim has become his rock. They’ve moved in together. When Jason suits up, Tim is at his side. When Tim needs stitches, it’s Jason holding the needle. When Jason comes home, knuckles bruised and lip split, it’s Tim there with the ice pack. And when they’re finished tending each other’s wounds, large and small, they fall into bed together—sore but together.

Jason doesn’t want to give that up.

He knows Tim won’t leave Gotham. Knows that Tim views Robin/Red Robin as the most important thing he’s ever done, the thing that gives him purpose, makes him feel real. He can’t ask him to leave it. He can’t.

But he’s not sure he can stay, either.

It’s a big, tangled mess, and Jason is no closer to figuring out what to do when Tim approaches him one evening. He sits down with him, holding his tablet, looking like he’s got something on his mind. He doesn’t bother with much preamble.

“My parents bought a place in [idk, some nice coastal or country area] a long time ago. A small vacation home, I think. It was one of those things we didn’t lose when Dad went bankrupt. I think… It looks like a nice place to retire, don’t you think so?”

Jason can hardly believe what he’s hearing, even as he agrees with feeling. He has to pinch himself once or twice, as they start making plans. They’re as methodical about it as they are everything else, hashing out all the details. It doesn’t feel real; not even when they inform the others, not when they start packing. Not even when they finally make the move, or unpack, or settle into the house.

It’s not until the second morning that it starts to sink in. This is real. It’s happening.

They grow roots. Befriend the neighbors. Tim gets back into photography, dragging Jason out with him on long walks to capture the scenery. He gets a job, too, working on cars, and talks Jason into pursuing a degree, the way he always wanted.

They gets visits and calls from the bats, and their friends—some more than others—and they usually even remember to leave business out of it. It’s… everything Jason wanted, honestly—though it’s not always easy. There are still nightmares, restless nights, and times when neither of them can watch or read the news without the urge be out there. Especially when there’s a crisis.

The worst of it, though, is the itching, nagging feeling in Jason’s chest. The thing that tells him it’s too easy. Too simple. Eventually something has to break—and each nightmare, each restless night makes Jason more and more certain it’s going to be Tim. One day, he’s going to wake up and decide that a quiet life with Jason isn’t what he wants after all.

He’ll leave.

Jason keeps his worries to himself. Just—tries to bottle up the good days, tucking them close under his heart, to keep him warm when he’s alone.

Before he knows it, though, a year passes. Tim still hasn’t left. Jason wakes up first, like he always does, and puts on the coffee before starting breakfast. Tim stumbles out of their bedroom just after Jason finishes the pancake batter. Even with a regular sleep schedule, he’s still not a morning person.

He goes for Jason first; winding his arms around his waist and sneaking a kiss before he pours his coffee. He slips out of the way, leaning against the wall to sip his coffee and watch Jason. And somewhere between the first batch of pancakes and the fourth, he glances over, and—he sees it.

Tim is smiling at him over the rim of his cup, still a little hazy from sleep. His eyes are no longer laden with bags. His skin is clear, a little tan. He’s got freckles, just a few, dotting his face. There’s a light, a glow to him that once Jason only saw in glimpses.

He’s happy.

Here.

With Jason.

It knocks the breath from him. He doesn’t know what his face is doing—only that Tim is at his side in an instant, coffee forgotten on the counter. Wrapped in Tim’s arms, Jason finds himself spilling everything, every thought and fear that’s plagued him for the last year. When he’s done, Tim smiles sadly, his hold turning into something like a cradle, despite their size difference.

“Robin was the most important thing in my life for a long time. First because watching you both, knowing what I knew… made me feel part of something bigger. Something amazing. And then because it gave me purpose. I was doing something that mattered, and so that made me feel like I mattered. And being good at it… It made me feel like I belonged, like I was wanted.” He strokes Jason’s cheek. “But… It always felt like it could be taken away. There were times when I thought it had been. And then… us. Jason, I don’t need Robin anymore. You make me feel like I matter—and I don’t… I don’t have to… to be perfect, or prove myself. I can just be here, with you, and that’s enough. I’m enough. And that… It means everything, Jay.”

Jason is tearing up. Supposedly, he’s the one who’s good with words—and Tim has pages of love poetry and sweet letters tucked away that can attest to that—but right now? He has none. All he can do is kiss him, and hope that everything he wants to say comes through.

The gratitude. The awe. The agreement. Tim does matter, and he doesn’t have to do anything to earn it, because Jason loves him. And fuck—the reason Jason stayed, the reason he couldn’t just leave on his own was because with Tim…

Tim has always taken him as he is. He doesn’t ask Jason to be anything more than he is, and because of that… Jason wants to be. He feels like the best version of himself when they’re together, and to hear that he gives Tim that same feeling—

It’s everything.

Tim’s coffee grows cold. Breakfast burns.

Neither of them care.

[ fic writer ask game ]

#its sappy and self-indulgent bc that's just where i'm at right now ig #thank you for asking! #waffleinator-inator #asks and answers #jaytim #tauriawritesfanfic #also this is another idea/fic/wip ive wanted to yell abt so ty for giving me the opportunity to share!

[beyondthegame]

goddhshs that cy drabble sighhhhh i had to ask - how do the ros kiss? 🫣

Oo, kisses! I didn’t realise they’d end up being this detailed:

I mentioned briefly what Cypress’s make out sessions are like -> here. Their kissing starts off as hesitant, as if they don’t trust themselves to do the action justice. Then they’ll gradually become more confident and their kisses are a lot more intense, and the change is evident because when Cy’s more confident with their kisses it just feels like there’s so much more purpose to them. Like when you’ve been touch starved for so long and you’ve received the most electrifying and pleasurable touch from someone you adore—a nervous but pleasurable, breathless kind of feeling.

I like to think that E’s written a song/a verse in one about what it’s like kissing them. E usually thinks about kissing someone they like long before it’s actually happened: they’re very studious when it comes to their lover’s features, in their head E’s thinking ‘I love this, this and this about you’. And then it’s their hands on the back of your neck, splayed fingers, E tilting your chin up and whispering, “I really, really want to kiss you” whilst leaning closer after every word. All their kisses are strong but delicate; when you pull away E’s teeth are gently tugging your bottom lip and pulling you back for more.

L’s kisses are intense all the way through, from start to finish, like they have something to prove. They pretty much start off with smiles and quick pecks, and then their eyes start shimmering and it reminds L of how much they enjoy physical touch with someone they like. When they’re kissing their hands and fingers start to roam and they rest on your waist, hips, back, thighs etc. And then their kisses move from your lips, to jaw, to neck and back up. Open mouthed kisses, the gentle coming together of teeth, the quiet audible moans that escape the two of you that L can’t help but smile at. Definitely kisses to leave you tingling and breathless in the best way.

I’m positive Milan’s saved their best kisses for romanced best friend!mc. Their kisses pretty much match their happy, optimistic personality. At the start they’re pretty shy because in the crushing stage they’ve imagined what it’s like to kiss their best friend…and then it happening makes their brain go fuzzy in the best way. It’s like Milan’s thumb tracing the outline of your lips and savouring every touch like it’s their last. And their kisses replicate that, like when you’re in a dream and you’re praying it doesn’t end any time soon so you can continue to enjoy everything it has to offer. And then the two of you are smiling against the other’s lips, so much so that the other has to say “god, stop smiling, I’m trying to kiss you”. The best way to describe Milan’s kisses is dreamy.

N’s kisses are a bit of a whirlwind because they end up changing drastically. They’re kissing the person that they’re hated for years, the same person they’ve had this long rivalry with so…yeah, a whole load of emotions. Kissing in the crushing stage for N is them literally begging themselves to think of anything other than kissing. To not think about how hate can turn into something pleasurable, so kisses with N are their jaw clenched, your back against the wall, N’s eyes closed as they’re leaning in closer before they whisper “we don’t need to do this…tell me to stop and I happily will.” (<- lies, they wouldn’t happily because they’re craving a kiss at this point but they can’t admit that to themselves). In a relationship their greeting kind of kisses are ones on the temple and cheek. Their make out kisses start soft at the base of the neck, and N works their way up whilst whispering sweet nothings in between every peck. By the time they get to your lips, their forehead is touching yours and they’re smiling because they can finally let themselves feel.

#ask #ro asks #this is so long asdfghjkl I’m sorry #so happy you liked the drabble tho <3 #nikka 🫶🏼

[afternoon-fireworks]

“SAVING LOKI PRIME”:

A Complete Blueprint for Another 6 Episodes of Loki’s Post-S2 Storyline

POST I OF IV

Hello-hello! I know this tag is dying, but if you’re still closure-hunting or simply curious about how a Loki S3 could work, buckle up—I’m excited to announce we have a bountiful full-season outline to discuss that I’ve tried to model after the pre-existing canon as closely as possible, having studied this series as an undergrad screenwriter. When I was stumped with my own WIPs lately, I adopted the Loki S2 finale for a major drafting exercise. It’s been such a fun, special side project to do (although I’m not in any official writers’ room, nor claim to be for Mickey Mouse legal purposes), and I now rest it in your hands.

Feel free to skip to the images after the paragraphs if you’re not in the mood to slug through big text blocks to reach my main selling point here, but for extra tidbits on special thematic details and motivations behind episode structure, definitely stick around or revisit this section later!

Okay, down to business. My goal? To invent a logical back door out of the Yggdrasil Predicament, because while Loki’s major character arc for the MCU got beautifully resolved in S2 (glorious purpose), we all know his minor TV show arc remains tragically incomplete (a need for normal companionship). That’s 50% thematic damage, and with the tight corner the plot is written into, there is minimal room for further resolution. You can’t satisfy one arc without slashing the other in half. There aren’t many places to take Loki from this point without cheapening his sacrifice and overall development—which, you could argue, is either a genius move employed by the writers, or a downright frustrating one. Maybe a bit of both.

But a MCU installment with Mobius in the forefront? That’s our loophole. Maybe we revisit him sitting atop a jet ski he can’t afford because TVA retirees don’t have pension funds—somewhere to emphasize his (1) lack of purpose AND (2) lack of normal companionship. He has double the narrative incompletion/ambiguity, making him perfect for an advancement to main character status. Sure, he could wrap up his loose ends by settling down like his Sacred-Timeline-self did, manage to find a branch without Don on it, save enough to cash in on a jet ski, and take a childless vacation to Cleveland’s picturesque Edgewater Beach, but he is hundreds/thousands(?) of years old with a pressing conflict of abrupt access to human mortality, seeing as the TVA no longer halts his natural aging process. A century to him must feel like a decade, and a decade like a year. Midlife crisis material, am I right? He is going to die soon, and that’s slowly sinking in.

Furthermore, Loki may have spent centuries searching for alternative measures regarding himself and the Loom, but Mobius doesn’t know that. Even if he does remember the conversation his past self had with Loki in the Time Theater about “burdens”, depending on if that dead timeline ever got regenerated or if it’s a branched reality Mobius can’t recall, the fact remains that as far as he knows, Loki cut his search short and took the martyr route without a fair consultation first. Who’s not to say, then, that Mobius doesn’t glance up at the sky and declare,

“I’m not gonna leave you alone up there forever. I’m gonna get you down, even if it’s just for a minute.”

It’s the Savior archetype in motion—a classic—and not unlike Loki’s own archetype. This time around, however, Mobius will influence the Yggdrasil Predicament himself so that any thematic shift isn’t at the expense of Loki’s glorious purpose. Mobius’s glorious purpose, he believes, is using what few human years he has left to alleviate Loki’s burden. He knows Loki’s identity better than he knows his own, remember?

Diving deeper into themes, perhaps we can expect to see a sharp deviation from our initial expectations of these two. Loki comes to embody the stubborn force of selflessness, refusing accommodations, and Mobius gradually becomes the force of selfishness. Loki becomes Order, whereas Mobius, on his sometimes irrational quest to free him from his prison, becomes Chaos, unaware of the mental prison he has also trapped himself within. They each only get everything they want when they swap their primary characteristics and locate equal footing thereafter.

On that note, let’s take a peek at how another six episodes can take shape. “Episode 1: Changing of the Guard” and “Episode 2: Ageless Antiquity” are provided within this post, and you can find the other four uploaded to my page (all posted within a reasonable time frame of each other, because I know delays are a bane on memory and entertainment)! Oh, and since this season doesn’t follow a typical fic format so much as it does a disaster-bullet-point format, I’ve elected to keep it on Tumblr rather than on a fic website. Cheers, and happy reading!

- Lin

#loki #loki tv #loki show #mcu loki #marvel #marvel mcu #mobius #sylvie #loki series #loki season 2 #my writing

[keepmeinmind-01]

For the WIP ask game 📖✨: 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, and 15 because I am nosy and they all sound so good!

thank you for asking :D

2 - dark!theseus and chemical brainwashing

So this is actually the one that I’m furthest along with because I’ve been working on outlining it for the last week! My only issue is that it’s pretty dark overall and was partly fuelled by my PMS, so I’ll probably need to work on it in bursts, because I get so emotionally invested when I write LOL. I don’t know how much this is “spoilers”, but I feel like on AO3, the tagging system kind of means you know everything up front, so I can give a fair bit of detail? But potential spoilers I suppose, haha?

The premise is that, at one of Grindelwald’s rallies, Leta joins him and Theseus follows her. They both get through the flames, although Theseus gets a little singed, but when it comes to fully integrating into Grindelwald’s ranks, Theseus starts to have doubts. He talks to Leta about running away and Grindelwald finds out, separates them, and uses a mixture of magic and chemical tools to brainwash and control Theseus. Theseus becomes pretty evil, and he and Newt cross paths several times on opposite sides. To be honest, I think it would be a bittersweet ending, but maybe happy given what came before LOL. But everyone would live - Leta and Theseus would be facing trials, potentially, and Theseus would be hugely destabilised and damaged from his experience - and Newt is also there as they try and figure out where to go next.

It takes a few of the plot bunnies I have for kmim and never wrote in (like Grindelwald trying to break Theseus’s “moral crown”, drug use, one of Theseus or Newt temporarily becoming dark) and moves them somewhere else so I’m not tempted to put them into an already busy plot 💀 It’s also darker, dialled up sibling angst but also, Leta is alive! Which I love and want to try and make the most of, so I need to make sure she has her flowers in the outline. Grindelwald is downright horrible in this one xd

3 - thesival war

I think a while ago I posted my complicated backstory for how Theseus and Percival met during the war, and I wanted to make this into a 5 times X happened and one time it didn’t fic. I’ve been trying to squeeze it into that structure and it’s not been working, so it’ll probably just be a normal layout.

It will start with Theseus in Ypres, then cover Theseus getting taken as a Prisoner of War, which is when he does magic (some on purpose in the fight around a village, some accidental when interrogated). Percival is an observer, a MACUSA Auror keeping an eye on the war, while Theseus has enlisted as a Muggle. So Percival tries to rescue Theseus before he ruins the Statue, which is a close call but they both get out. Then they both slowly make their way to Ukraine through a mixture of joining groups in the trenches and fighting/travelling as a pair, because that’s where Percival has been summoned for the dragon project. And then in Ukraine is where the spark really kicks off.

Then, which would be the “one time,” we go to FBAWTFT present day, which is when Theseus and Leta get a telegram Newt has been executed. Then, they also get the reveal Grindelwald was impersonating Percival. I think I might end with Theseus going to MACUSA and giving them a piece of his mind for nearly losing his brother and actually losing his (slightly more than) friend.

4 - newt’s abusive marriage

So @creative-girl and I were talking about this, inspired by Hamilton, and it was very much her idea! It would be what it says on the tin, possibly with Percy as the bad guy. Theseus chats to Percy at a party but ends up introducing him and Newt. The marriage between Newt and Percival turns sour but Newt keeps it a secret and becomes trapped and withdrawn. Some kind of reveal means Theseus comes in during one of the one-sided “fights” and intervenes, and then it would be fluffy after that. I feel like I tend to make Theseus the hurt party rather than Newt (this is actually an active consideration I have for kmim where I’m making sure it balances out LMAO) and I think the comfort afterwards could be really sweet.

8 - making out as cover

Very much what it says on the tin. I have a rough draft of this one. Percival and Theseus are on an assignment, they’re griping with one another, they’re meant to be watching a spot from their alleyway. They get spotted, and because they’re near a bar, Percival instantly kisses Theseus as cover. And when their cover is safe again (I.e., the people go or whatever, detective semantics) they’re like “okay hang on…” hahah

9 - Bunty and Lally!!

I love f/f ships with all my heart and yet the pieces of media I’m interested in rarely have them (other than Overwatch), so I thought it would be sweet to try. I saw it as perhaps modern AU, perhaps not, where both are a little younger. Lally is a barista in a coffee shop and Bunty is an awkward apprentice. Quite classic flirting and mixed signals where Bunty works up the courage to give the confident Lally a compliment. It could end after they swap numbers, or maybe they can actually go on a coffee date too. Maybe Bunty is quite shy or closeted and Lally is super confident and relaxed, and it could create quite a nice dynamic. So pretty wholesome.

15 - Lally/Seraphina

Inspired by your comment! This one is one of the least fleshed out ones and I added it into the middle of the list rather than the bottom like an organised person. I think there’s so much potential here and it could maybe be something set in MACUSA’s office buildings. Seraphina is like this reserved, cold authority figure and Lally is a rebellious, snarky, and warm academic. I think they could bond over their shared intelligence, maybe there’s some project Lally has to consult on that means they see a lot of one another. I think they both have quite strong personalities and once the spark caught, would both go after it.

so yeah!! thanks for asking, i loved writing out everything ahahaha <3

#fantastic beasts #theseus scamander #newt scamander #percival graves #eulalie hicks #fanfic asks

[crepesuzettey]

vague early concepts for a nonexistent web-based Smosh rhythm game that I’ve been thinking of when I’m supposed to be thinking of other things. made in the freeform app on my phone because I need low-stakes environment to come up with ideas lol

Elaborating a lot more ahead:

Originally I actually was going to have it be more cardboard box-themed (I even made a little box with a gradient in Illustrator that I thought looked so cute!!) but I couldn’t figure out how to make it easy to read. So for the actual game screen, I imagined a more 3D type of effect using some signature old(er) Smosh colors. But idk if that’s much better.

Maybe in a later concept the note bar would be transparent and have a neon glow outline (look at the channel banners for Pit and Games for reference) and the actual notes would be the pink blocks. In which case this still works because it just demonstrates those on top of each other. Does that make any sense? I want kind of a mix of old and new Smosh aesthetics if possible.

Not shown here but I was thinking of a bouncy thing for hold note switches. I think it’s pretty obvious I play project sekai lol, and I want to keep the wacky hold notes in a keyboard-friendly way. Basically there would be some kind of light to follow that would bounce from one space to the next, and to show that the note is continuing (just for aesthetic purposes) the ends that are meant to be connected would be triangular, as if shards snapped apart or something, instead of the usual abrupt end rectangle note. Just an idea. Don’t know if that makes any sense.

The song select screen would definitely have some kind of detail to the wall, okay? Idk. Maybe some little stickers or something. I was just brainstorming here lol. Also maybe make the Song Select text not on tape and make it more interesting. I think stickers are a good idea. I’m not gonna do all that in freeform though.

#smosh #design things #rhythm gaming #my hypothetical Smosh rhythm game concept

[gabessquishytum]

I really wanted to reign myself in and NOT send you an ask this morning but OMG the house of night anon!!! I used to love those books (like, the first three or so before they turned really, really bad) because I’m nothing if not a slut for shitty vampire novels and we only get the more popular ones translated here :D

Morpheus would look soooo gorgeous with a half moon mark on his forehead? Fits amazingly well into the whole grumpy emo/goth vibe he’s got going on. (Technically it should be an outline but as the anon said, the protagonist progresses really fast and instead of years it takes months for the half moon to fill in. I think there was a prophecy involved? It’s been a while)

Anyway, the thing that kept me invested in the books way longer than I thought they were any good was the whole magic aspect? Like, they’re doing proper magic rituals and the potential for horny professor!Hob and student!Dream shenanigans is just too good to pass up?

iIrc you need five people for a proper circle in this universe, but let’s skip that to the kind professor secretly helping Morpheus out with magic rituals to figure out just why he’s special. This means late night meetings in the library, sneaking around on campus for clandestine strategy discussions and finally the rituals in the middle of the night.

The binding circle on the ground glows with magic, the bowls that house representations of the elements are vibrating, it looks like morpheus and Hob are hovering over the ground as they speak the incantations. They are granted insight, a future where Morpheus has survived the initial months and where he’s fighting something-

The vision breaks suddenly and Morpheus is back to reality and in Hob’s arms. Hob’s shaking him because he was just levitating and bleeding and he was so worried about him.

Morpheus is alright, but the residual magic is filling him with restless energy and Hob’s shirt is basically see through and five seconds later he’s toppled them over, mounting his professor in the middle of the binding circle. The ritual left him so, so hungry and professor Gadling looks so, SO tasty.

Hob knows he should stop Morpheus because he’s his student and it’s bad enough that he’s had this embarrassing crush on him ever since he came to school the first time with his strange mark. But it’s just so, so hard. Because Morpheus fascinates him like no other, he’s so lovely when he allows himself to be and all the sneaking around for research purposes at night (or rather during the day) allowed him to catch glimpses of the real Morpheus, who’s funny and kind and whip-smart. And, fuck, but he’s also so fucking beautiful so he can’t do anything but let Morpheus bite his throat and claw at his shirt, riding his thigh until he cums in his skintight jeans. He holds him through his orgasm, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and lets him rest until he’s come down enough for them to banish the circle.

Afterwards Morpheus is so, so exhausted he can barely stand. There’s no way Hob can smuggle him back into his dorm room, so he takes him to his own flat on campus. It’s risky but a lot more private and this way Morpheus can at least rest a bit more and clean himself up before he goes back to his room to tell everyone he just lost track of time in the library…

Hob sleeps on his couch and leaves Morpheus in his bed. He dreams strangely and he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming of Morpheus but it feels more like a shared memory? It’s very strange.

The next day, they don’t talk about it. Hob lends Morpheus some clothes, lets him shower and makes him breakfast. The new familiarity from his dreams still lingers and it’s so hard to not pull Morpheus on his lap and feed him the waffles, interspersed with kisses.

They try to keep their distance but the dreams come back all the time in very graphic detail. Hob cums in his sleep nearly every night now and from the embarrassed/panicked glances Morpheus throws him, he’s not faring much better.

They take some class trip or something and the proximity of them being in rooms next to each other seems to help. The first night they get at least a few hours of sleep. The next morning Hob knocks on Morpheus door (who has a room of his own) and somehow they end up in bed together.

That evening, Hob sneaks into Morpheus room. He bends him over the bed to fuck him until they’re both ready to drop from exhaustion. It’ll help with the dreams, he’s sure of it. They do sleep soundly that night, for the first time in weeks, but that has more to do with the fact that they’re entwined the whole night. The dreams still come (and so do they) but they’re clearer now, shedding a light on their shared past.

Love, 💄

Asdfghj I'll be honest I have not read these books but I love the setup. Thank you SO MUCH for filling in this au even more!!

I just think. The inherent sexiness of a vampire ritual. It's very hot, right? Magic and blood and emotions right there on the surface. It's going to lead to some absolutely feral sex on the floor, right in the middle of the spell ingredients. Hob probably tells himself that it's a good thing. Sweet, precious Morpheus is so stressed. He needs someone to help him take the edge off, before he hurts himself. Hob is just being a good mentor by palming his pert little arse through his jeans and encouraging him to rut his way to a climax. Morpheus clearly needs someone to take care of him, poor darling. Hob can do that. Keep him safe and fed on Hob’s blood until nothing else will satisfy him. Nothing but the best for him.

#💄 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw blood #cw age gap #cw teacher/student