About.

about.

intro.

hi! i’m stephy, (formerly lilith) and i go by she/her pronouns. i write for a variety of fandoms - just whatever inspires me. not a spoiler-free blog. (tagged under #spoilers, ofc!)

i write in british english, and i am an avid fan of the oxford comma :)

my inbox is always open for writing suggestions, however, i will reserve requests for blog events only.

tags.

please block the first four tags if you only want to see writing related content from me!

bumbles from the hive ! - rambles

reblog ! - non-writing posts that i like :)

the hive speaks ! - announcements

the bee says hi ! - interactions

honey pot ! - writing tag

the hive’s favs ! - writing recommendations

blue period collection ! - all blue period writings

genshin impact collection ! - all genshin writings

jujutsu kaisen collection ! - all jjk writings

twisted wonderland collection ! - all twst writings

blue lock collection ! - all blue lock writings

you seem really well read and articulate, are you an english student?

as in like. studying in an english speaking country yes, but if u mean studying literature/english in uni then no 😭 i am currently studying information technology!!

(i didddd take lit and various other humanities subjects in school though. i also just generally really like reading & theatre, and writing creatively 👉👈)

rules.

general housekeeping rules.

i only write reader insert stories. if this, or anything else i do or stand for, makes you uncomfortable, feel free to block.

i am purely a sfw blog. keep nsfw / dark content out of my inbox. i accept interactions from anyone, so long as they adhere to this.

please correct me if i make any mistakes - i am always looking for new ways to improve myself & become a better person !

be respectful and kind to not only myself, but to anyone else who i interact with. if someone (including me!) makes a mistake, correct them rather than attack them. :)

no discrimination relating to race, gender, sexuality, etc. will be tolerated. this blog is not a place to project those thoughts.

requests.

writing suggestions are always welcome, however, fully structured requests will only be open during blog events. i will specify this whenever the opportunity arrives!

keep in mind that i only write “x reader” stories, so please do not request any character x character or oc x character fics.

do stars return?

itoshi sae x reader

summary: your childhood friend leaves, and you question if he’ll ever come back.

notes: [1.2k words.] i like to think this man has super angst potential but that won’t be unearthed today LOL no beta we die like men <3

disclaimers: childhood friends trope, angst (if u squint) to fluff, making out for a lil bit, poetic dialogue, forgiveness theme.

masterlist.

Itoshi Sae shines.

It's a truth you've come to realise at the budding age of seven. He, with his tepid stature and equally cold attitude, is destined for greatness.

A star, you whisper, once upon a time. A time where he lived without a million eyes watching his every move. You will become a star, I just know it. 

And back in the day, it wasn't just you who believed it. Everyone did. From his teachers to his classmates, to his parents and his brother. It was an indisputable fact that the boy who dedicated himself wholly to soccer, a prodigy who made the sport look like an art form, had his future set out for stardom.

So it is no surprise to anyone when your naive declaration comes into fruition.

His face is plastered on every billboard - as far as the eye can see. Japan's pride, he is known as. The Ice Prince; he who dominates the field; a force to be reckoned with.

Itoshi Sae: the star.

You are proud. No doubt. Though, it’s false to say that you aren’t envious. Sae is a trailblazer: one that surpasses all of his enemies with a nonchalant stare, and transcends into the sky with the other geniuses. He is a part of the lucky few who are destined to be gazed upon with awe. Everything and anything you have achieved pales in comparison.

(You’d surely hear reprimands if you voice those thoughts out loud, though. In your time, you have made a name for yourself. An expert in your passion at the mere age of seventeen; a trailblazer in your own right.

…It’ll just never compare to the name Sae built for himself, you think with finality.)

But above the awe and envy you feel whenever Sae’s name comes up, is love.

Love: a trap that is inevitable for a childhood friend of his. A pitfall that you have fell into. Your love for him is a bittersweet fact, one which tugs at your heartstrings whenever his face shows up on your phone. Sweet, because childhood love is a beautiful, rare thing - you’re glad that it has happened, in all honesty - though bitter all the same, because he is a star.

And stars shoot past. They never go back.

(He, will never go back.)

So for the years that Sae is gone, you float by on that knowledge. Merely acknowledging him as the one who crashed into your life, and left as turbulently as he came. You work diligently to mute the love that festered in your heart, knowing it will never be. 

You wholeheartedly believe that your life will continue in this fashion.

Then, the impossible happens.

The star returns, seven years later. On your doorstep, nonetheless.

"Itoshi?" 

Somehow, even in the ungodly hour of 12:56AM, Sae manages to look as beautiful as the day he left. It's unfair. Unfair for him to show up at your doorstep unannounced; unfair for him to have grown into his boyish looks as gracefully as he did.

It’s unfair for him to still make your heart race, even after all this time.

"Who else would it be?" He scoffs, the bite of his words not quite reaching his eyes. "And, Itoshi, seriously?"

His voice makes your heart leap. It's like you are ten again. "Well… You haven't been Sae for a while now," you say. "Not since you ghosted me, anyways."

Sae's eyes flicker with an emotion you thought he is incapable of feeling. "I didn't mean to." Regret. The Ice Prince is feeling regret, all for you. And if you were ten again, maybe that alone would shake you. But you aren't. You are several years wiser. You know better.

"It's fine if you want to be the best in the world. I don't blame you for that - not at all. But you can be number one and not neglect the ones that love you, y'know?" You slowly retreat back into the comfort of your apartment, hand creeping onto the back of the door. "Goodnight, Itoshi. You should go home; it's late."

You push the door, preparing to end the conversation then and there.

It’s not supposed to be like this, you realise. He, your first love, is supposed to stay in the past. Itoshi Sae should not be at your doorstep past midnight, suitcase in tow, as if he came straight from the airport to your house. The feelings you hold for him should be locked up within the depths of your heart - not surging in full force from just the sight of him.

But alas, fate plays its mischievous tricks once again. And Sae is not the type of person who lets blunders get away scot-free.

"…You love me?” He says, barely above a whisper, foot wedged between the door and the entrance. An impenetrable silence follows from your end. 

Seven years older, but still a fool in the face of love, it seems.

“I did,” I still do, your mind yells. “But you’re a star now, Sae. Just like I said you would be.” Your breath hitches, nails forming crescent-shaped indents within your palm. “…And stars don’t fall in love with the big, black sea of nothingness, do they?”

A beat of silence ensues from his end. You cringe at your own word choice. Maybe he left, you think. Great. Itoshi Sae was at your door, and you scared him away with your stupid love and even stupider confession. How stupid can you even get—

The door hinge creaks as you topple over, shattering your inner turmoil. Sae announces his intrusion with a loud sigh.

“Hey! What are you?— This is considered trespassing—“ You begin. Sae shuts you up with a forceful kiss, pinning you against the door that you were hiding behind minutes before. It’s messy, tantalising, addicting. The smell of his aquatic cologne fills your senses, and he cups your face in between his hands. He feels so warm. He feels like home.

Sae’s whole body screams of need. The need for you; the need to make up for the lost time. 

You hate how you are so weak for him. 

“Idiot.” He deadpans as the two of you part. “If you’re going to get all poetic on me, fine. Stars don’t fall in love with the galaxy.” 

You remove yourself from his arms, eyes scrunching in offence. Bold thing for him to say, especially after he just kissed your lips raw. “So… You’re not in love with me?”

“Let me finish.” Sae is quick to pull you back into his embrace, voice impossibly soft for the otherwise stone-faced boy. “Stars don’t fall in love with the sky. They live in it; I live with you.”

Sae hopes that the implication is clear.

You, alone, are his hope; you are the reason he sparkles as much as he does. Even while you were miles apart, his childhood friend was the sole thing on his mind. A star cannot shine without its galaxy, after all.

“You’re not off the hook, by the way.” You breathe lightly, laying your head against his chest. “Seven years is still a long time. I don’t think you can cuddle your way out of this one, Itoshi.”

A small smile elicits from his face, “I can try, can’t I?”

…And this star is willing to wait for his galaxy to forgive him, no matter how long it takes.

the magnum opus and the muse.

yaguchi yatora x reader

notes: [818 words.] geidai yatora makes me question everything fr ): anyways pls give blue period the love it deserves!! i am literally scraping the floor for crumbs

disclaimers: university au! yaguchi, mentions of smoking & drinking (they discourage it tho), brief mention of underage drinking, reader & yaguchi are probs depressed, friends pining for each other, questioning the future & reminiscing abt the past!!

masterlist.

“How does it feel to hate the things you love?”

A puff of smoke escapes his chapped lips, eyes glistening with a sense of mirth from your question.

Yatora Yaguchi has always been an enigma. From the moment he dyed his hair and pierced his ears, to when his love for art blossomed into an almost self destructive endeavour.

You wonder why he did it. Why would he go through such lengths for it all? For his definition of love.

Even more so now, as he stood in front of you. Yatora looks different now, you thought. Clad in nothing but an all black hoodie and weathered jeans gifted to him during his high-school days, one would think he looks the same as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But you know better. He knows better.

His usually bleached hair is showing his natural roots. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot; Yatora walks with a sense of lethargy instead of self-assured confidence, a feeling you know all too well.

He, too, is hit with the feeling of sullen dreams.

“It fucking sucks. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.” Yatora brings up a hand to his face, covering the bags that rimmed his eyes. “Pass me another smoke, would you?”

A reluctant grimace finds its way onto your face, hand reaching into your pocket for the box of poison anyways. “You’re killing your lungs that way, y’know.”

“And you’re killing your liver. You’re one to talk.”

Downing the liquor you would once steal from your parent’s cabinets, and were now legal to buy it with your own money, you reminisced.

Back to your youth. Back to when Yatora was encapsulating a blue Shibuya - not living amongst the colour. Back to when you and he didn’t lay in shards of crushed hopes that pierce through the very cores of your beings.

“It would be easier,” you turn to him, watching how the evening glow of Shibuya painted his face with warmth. “If you lived without passion. Like me.”

A beat of silence passes through the air. “No thanks,” he interjects.

“Hey! Why?” You punch his shoulder half-heartedly, “I’m serious. I almost died trying to create a so-called ‘magnum opus’, and now you might too. That’s the last thing I want from you.”

Another cloud of smoke enriches the air around you. And with the smile he gives you, one with the brilliance of a thousand stars, Yatora makes you realise. Within this ghost city, so devoid of life, there was still hope. Hope that came in the form of an ex-delinquent boy, now a Geidai student.

“Because, you said it yourself back in our second year of junior high. That’s the worst way of living. And eventually, you’ll lose sense of yourself, right?” His hand reaches to readjust the scarf he placed around you, delicately. Like he always was, with you. “I believe you still live with passion. You just refuse to believe it.”

Yes, you thought to yourself. Yatora’s right when he says you do live with passion.

But it’s not what he may think.

It’s not in the form of art, not in the tangible, literal sense anyways. Not in the way society thinks of what art is.

It’s in the form of love.

In the form of him.

Yatora is your magnum opus. And you hope to see him bloom into something magnificent.

So, you partly know the answer to your own question. To feel hatred for the things you love? It is to feel hatred towards the man you dedicated yourself wholly to, for he is the one who is slowly leading himself into turmoil.

But, just as before, you will wait. Forever, and evermore. The words lingering on the tip of your tongue will remain unspoken until he, too, sees you in a similar light.

You sigh. That’s enough thinking; you’ve drunk too much again.

A slight tug to your hands snaps you back to reality. “C’mon, daydreamer. My mum has been wanting to see you again. How does spending a night at my house sound?”

The slight desperate tone in his voice makes you realise that maybe, just maybe, Yatora is clinging to the past too.

Little do you know, he views you as something incomprehensible too. Why does he always search for a glimpse of you in the Geidai halls? Attending class would be the last thing you do. It is all unknown to him.

Yatora’s love burns. He is able to paint even through tears; he never feels as if too much is enough. And maybe that’s why he refuses to let you go. He can never get enough of you.

He can never get enough of the person that historians would dictate as his muse.

And maybe that's why he refuses to say the words which cling onto the deep crevices of his heart so very deeply.

Have you watched dead poets society🗣️🗣️⁉️

IF U HAVENT U FR SHOULD i need someone to talk abt it to😈🫵

O CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN!!!!