#- via's fics <3

[hwangism143]

𓆩♡𓆪 nicknames. 𓆩♡𓆪

maknae line.

bang chan.

when you woke up from bed, you noticed a bang chan-shaped depression right beside you. a giggle escaped your mouth as your brain recounted all the fun you had last night trying to beat chan in monoply.

yes, you had only been dating for two months, but this relationship felt real. it felt like something. you were confident in saying that you saw a future with him. you walked into the kitchen where you chan preparing breakfast. he handed you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it, with a sleepy smile.

"so, i've been thinking and," chan started, "would like it if i call you a nickname in your native language?"

you nearly choked on your coffee. "like it? chan, that is the sweetest thing ever."

he grinned at you, "good, cuz i have been doing a lot of research." he swooped down, kissing the top of your head and melting your heart along with it.

lee minho.

"i have a problem."

minho startled you, uttering those four words as soon as he stepped through the door. you were watching tv, curled up on the sofa with a blanket and dori, munching on popcorn and waiting for minho's arrival.

"what's wrong?"

"it's you." minho watched your face morph into confusion and worry and he quickly explained, "not exactly. since we're dating, i need to come up with a cute nickname for you. hyunjin said that jagiya is not cute enough."

at that, you start to laugh. "babe, does he even know why you call me jagiya? as a matter of fact, i'm curious too."

minho begins blushing, the tips of his ears turning red. "oh, um, as a nickname, it reminds me of home. and you're, well, home."

you let out a squeal and begin attacking minho with kisses and for once, he doesn't protest.

seo changbin.

"no. i will not give up."

you let out a weary sigh. "binnie, it's been hours."

changbin is sitting on a bar stool and you are sprawled across the sofa, dangling upside down. for the past two hours, you and changbin had been deciding on what terms of endearment to use on each other.

unlike changbin being extremely undecisive, you had almost immediately decided what you would call him. your bunny boy! this was probably an extremely boring way to spend your six-month anniversary to outsiders, but it was (comically) important to changbin and if it was important to him, it was important to you.

"i'm sorry for boring you, princess," he said sadly. suddenly, his eyes widened. you got up instantly, making eye contact with him, breaking out into a smile.

"that's it!"

hwang hyunjin.

you and hyunjin laid down on the mat you placed on the grass, gazing at the stars. or at least, you were gazing at the stars. hyunjin's eyes only looked at you.

"what's your favorite term of endearment?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence you were in.

"hm," you contemplated it for a minute, "probably love. there is something just so romantic about calling someone you love, love. it's almost as if you're making it known to the world that they personify your version of love."

hyunjin nodded in agreement, "or that the exemplify the love that they have to give."

you turned to look at him. his face was drawn in concentration, clearly very focused on the topic at hand. "but," he began, "it's ambiguous, isn't it? you can call anyone love, regardless of the type of love."

you hummed at his words, turning them over in your head. "well then, what would you prefer?" you questioned him, curious to hear the thoughts in his head.

"something my-adjacent," he replied, "my love. my muse. my world."

he cupped your cheeks in his hand looking at you with stars in his eyes.

"my everything."

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday

Adopted Dadmas: Dadmas versus Haven

The red light was blinking on Jak’s talk-box again. Damas was no fool, he knew that meant someone was spying through the floating comm -- or attempting to. Doubtless, the eavesdropper thought they were being very subtle, keeping silent whenever adults were present. As if they believed Jak would keep their presence a secret. As if they believed he would never tell.

Damas tore a circle of flatbread into pieces and used them to scoop a mixture of cooked peppers onto his plate. He pretended not to notice the talk-box hovering next to Jak’s elbow in a terrible attempt at stealth, instead choosing to engage Daxter in a conversation. He was determined to get the kid apprenticed to the head of the merchant guild one way or another. Daxter had a head for business and trade that Jak, simply put, did not. He nodded along when his friend talked, but privately Damas thought it would do Daxter good to be around adults who could encourage his interests.

Periodically, Jak cast swift glances at his talk-box during the meal. He seemed like he was expecting someone to speak at any moment -- or more like he was expecting orders of some kind. His shoulders were tense, and he was shoveling down food much too quickly, like he thought he wasn't going to have time to finish it.

"Slow down, young one. The shrimp isn't going anywhere, and neither are you," Damas admonished.

Jak didn't slow down much, but he did start chewing a little more thoroughly. Small victories. Still, he looked tired, and on-edge. Had Ashelin or the sage been badgering him again when no one was around?

The initial idea had been to lay a trap. To feign ignorance and bait the spy into speaking aloud, thus forcing Unpleasant Diplomatic Discussions with Haven's motley assortment of would-be leaders. But just now, Damas decided, the health and wellbeing of his son took precedence over strategy. And he still had the element of surprise, anyway.

"Talk-boxes off at the table, Jak," he announced, gesturing directly to the lens watching them, "This is a meal, not a media interview."

The boy flinched and looked guilty. He had no reason to; he'd been open with Damas about the demands for labor since he first returned from Haven. But then, he'd been groomed from such a young age to believe that bad things happened because he didn't work hard enough for his "friends". Perhaps he still feared retaliation for establishing healthy boundaries? Better to confront the issue head-on then, Damas decided.

"If your uninvited watcher has an emergency, they are free to petition me directly," he said, leveling a stern glare at the talk-box. "On their own time, not yours. Come on, switch it off."

Someone made a muffled sound, barely picked up by the talk-box's speaker. It seemed they were not expecting to be so casually acknowledged.

"Jak-!" the watcher tried to protest, but Jak reached for the power button.

"Right. Sorry, Pa."

Once the light had faded from the little camera, Damas nodded, satisfied. He picked up a shallow bowl with tomango in it and held it out to Jak.

"Here. You need the vitamins."

Begrudgingly, Jak took two slices, then a third when Daxter gave him The Look across the table.

The ottsel cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Pal, you gotta get better at telling those people no. They can't hurtcha!"

Jak hunched over his plate, frowning.

"I know," he muttered sullenly. "I- I do know that, okay? They just don't listen!"

Daxter sighed and his ears drooped. "Yeah...I know. Old Greenstuff only hears what he wants to hear. Always has."

With a frustrated groan, Jak rubbed his eyes. "After everything he's done, I shouldn't be having trouble cutting Samos off. Why do I keep going back?!"

"He's familiar," Daxter admitted, and not without a touch of loathing. "He was all we knew for like, our whole lives. I hate him -- I'll always hate him -- but I get being afraid to lose that last connection to Sandover."

"....yeah." Jak winced. "I um...I think you're right. It's just. It's hard."

"I know, pal."

"And he knows I have two artifacts that go with those weird pillars in the forest!" Jak continued, "What do I do when he starts asking why I haven't brought them?"

"You end the call," Damas interrupted firmly, "or you give the line to an older Wastelander. Collecting those relics serves the interests of our people, and our people will be working in teams to locate them."

Perhaps this was Jak’s fight as much as anyone else's -- this Daystar and its coming threat -- but Damas was reluctant to involve him. Wasn't losing one son bad enough? He'd never survive losing a second one!

Besides, even someone as talented at sneaking into hidden places as Jak couldn't infiltrate places locked by the Seal of Mar. Whatever the Grand Council of Haven wanted with the catacombs, it was a matter for Damas to deal with, not the boys.

Jak picked at his tomango slices almost glumly. Whether it was his own struggles with setting boundaries that bothered him, or Damas’s advice for dealing with future calls, no one knew. But Daxter and Damas both knew that Jak wouldn't keep it bottled up for long. Sure enough, after a couple minutes of mangling his food without eating it, Jak finally looked up.

"You didn't tell me you were sending other people to look for the relics I told you about."

It was almost a question and almost a complaint.

"No, I didn't," Damas acknowledged, and sipped his tea. "The topic hadn't come up between us yet. Is there something about it that concerns you?"

Jak had difficulty putting his thoughts into words. He started and stopped three times before muttering, "It's dangerous. What if someone gets hurt and I'm not there?"

"What if someone doesn't get hurt and you're not there?" Damas countered. He leaned an elbow on the table and gestured to himself almost self-deprecatingly. "Age does not grace the Spargan who is careless, nor are many years added to the foolish. Do not worry so much about people who were hunting metalheads for sport before you were even born, son."

"Admittedly," said Daxter, "We're still getting used to the concepts of adults who can actually fight their own battles. Am I complaining? Only when they decide it's "Take Your Ottsel To Work Day". But even I still go into jobs expecting to have to save everyone's butts at some point."

"Justified with the monks." Jak pointed a piece of tomango at his best friend.

"Yeah, justified with Mime Club."

Damas threaded his fingers together under his chin and watched the boys a moment.

"How about this," he offered, "If an artifact is located but not yet retrieved, I will give you the option of participating in the mission. Or, you can wait until everything has been gathered, and we will go to the pillars together."

For a moment, Jak brightened. Then he looked pensive again. "What if there's trouble? I mean. I was never really- I never claimed Haven, but they act like I belonged to them. What if me bringing another nation into their forest makes trouble for Spargus?"

"Hmph. Perhaps it is better to settle this now, rather than engage in hypotheticals."

Damas held out one hand.

"Give me your talk-box."

Jak narrowed his eyes. "What are you going to do?"

"Not your concern."

"Papá...." somehow Jak managed to sound both suspicious and scolding.

Damas remained unmoved. "Hand it over, boy."

Reluctantly, Jak did so. He cringed when the device powered on, and Keira's voice poured out.

"Jak? Are you okay? Daddy came in fussing about someone interfering with- you're not Jak! Where's my friend?!"

By the mortified expression on his son's face, Damas guessed this was the sage's daughter. The childhood friend Jak still sort of had a crush on.

"Tell your father to stop harassing my son," Damas said shortly. "Especially during hours set aside for family meals. Was he raised in a barn? In fact, ask him that for me."

"Pa, no!" Jak hissed, making a futile grab for the talk-box.

"Your son?! Who are you? Who- hey, Daddy, c'mere. You know this guy? He says he's Jak’s dad!" Keira became muffled for a moment, stepping away from her own device to drag her father over. "Why's this guy think you're harassing Jak? We've only called him twice since he left. Right?"

"Insisting he keeps his comm on at all times so that you can all monitor every moment of his day is not an acceptable use of Federation communication lines," Damas cut in. "I shouldn't have to tell you that spying on the nation of Spargus in such a way could be taken as an act of war."

"This-! This is bigger than Haven or the Wastelands!" Samos sounded flustered- even a bit nervous. "Surely you understand the claim destiny has upon Ja-"

Damas made a dismissive sound in his throat, cutting the sage off. "Pah. Destiny. I should think the recent Praxis regime and my own continued existence would be enough to call concepts such as destiny into question. As it stands, my claim on Jak supersedes "destiny" -- or more accurately, you."

"The fate of the planet hangs in the balance!" Samos cried, though somewhat subdued compared to his usual confidence. "Can't you see that?! Don't be so bullheaded, Jak is needed-"

Jak recognized the glint in the king’s eyes as mischief. Daxter looked a little too eager to see where this was going. Jak resisted the urge to cover his face in embarrassment. Why and oh why did Keira have to be the one to answer the line?!

"Oh? Are you planning to challenge me for custody of my son?" Damas bared his teeth in an unfriendly smile. "Please, by all means! The Arena is ready whenever you are."

"Pa!" Jak gripped the sides of his head and stared at the man. "Not in front of Keira!"

"Look, old man-" Damas ignored Daxter's delighted cackle. "This planet will survive through united efforts, not by sitting back and hoping one boy alone will get the job done. Now, if Haven wishes to negotiate a temporary alliance to get this done sooner, there is no one stopping them from requesting a meeting with the Wasteland Federation. In the meantime, the Federation intends to continue preventing the apocalypse with or without your participation."

"You are?" Keira cut in over her father again, sounding genuinely curious. "You mean there's more people who can get into ruins?"

Jak got up and moved to the head of the table. Damas moved the talk-box out of his reach preemptively, but Jak made no move to grab it.

"That's their whole thing, turns out. You know Krew? Yeah, everything he sold you, he bought from Wastelanders. Even the defunct power cells."

The slightly warped image of Keira on the screen flickered as she leaned closer.

"Seriously?! I could've cut out the middleman and just worked with them all this time?! Ughhhhh. Hindsight is 20/20 I guess. You want to show them my research from the palace library?"

Behind her, Samos jumped. "The what?! Keira, the library was destroyed with the rest of the palace!"

"The building collapsed, sure," Keira retorted, "But the data cores are still mostly intact in there. If you don’t mind crawling through some tight places and bringing lots of Scout Flies, it's a cinch to get the files for Vin."

Samos looked apoplectic. "Keira! That's far too dangerous for you!"

His daughter rolled her eyes. "What? Jak and Daxter can do it but I can't? Don't you trust me?"

Damas stifled a chuckle and elbowed Jak. "I like this one," he whispered. "Invite her to Spargus sometime."

Jak wished the floor would swallow him.

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arms ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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[greetings-humans]

rereading one of my fav mid-length codywan fics and skdjfskdfjsal;dfks my children my babies i love them they deserve the absolute best and if anyone ever tries to fuck over their happy ending i will throw hands and im a black belt so fuck you

[corviiids]

hey is it chill to use this blog for more fic / writing stuff from time to time or are yall mostly just here for the dumb funnyposting. not a permission seeking post lol just curious what people are mostly interested in

[snickerdoodlles]

hi, yes, hello. do you have any silly headcanons to share? 🥲💕

i love how pointed the 'silly' is here XD *spins roulette wheel*

Arm has been in love with Khun forever. Khun hasn't been in love with Arm as long, but it's been so long he's shocked to discover it. after some flailing into romance, people's reactions to their new relationship go like:

Porsche: lmao what is it with Theerapanyakuls and their bodyguards, good for you Arm!

Kinn: hadn't seen this coming but!! he is very happy for Khun!!! Kinn loves love!!!!

Kim: how the fuck did you not see it Kinn

Pete: fucking finally

Pol: you weren't already dating????

Send an ask, get a headcanon

[teecupangel]

Desmond as a Mind Flayer

Submitted by @fanworldbuildingfun​

 few days I have been absolutely consumed by Baldur’s Gate. It has been a most excellent diversion. And thus, I come to you with an idea: after the Solar Flare, Desmond does perish in the Temple. Physically, that is. However, his mid endures – and not at all as The Reader

No, instead – Desmond comes to as a silent observer in the mind of the MC of Baldur’s Gate 3. An experience so similar to Animus that, at first, he thinks he IS stuck in an Animus. But the world, the beings in it – they fit nothing that Desmond has experienced before. And so, he tries to adapt. Trying to reach out to the person he is riding. Permitting what he perceives as a draw on his Eagle Vision (even if it comes across so odd now!). Pinging when he senses danger going on

And then, one day… He manages to actually interact with his host. In a dream. Now. To stop them from being so antagonistic to Desmond – neither of them, after all, had an option to get stuck as they are

In short: Desmond gets reborn as the Mind Flayer parasite in BG3 world. And does not realize it

Que Desmond being *the* Bleeding Effect here. And possibly working on having the other companions become potential carriers to his ancestors’ memories? But that only happens if his host opts to “connect” with the others often (which the game implies is Bad)

=================================

Additions by teecup:

I haven’t bought Baldur’s Gate 3 yet so I am basing Desmond’s Mind Flayer capabilities on what’s wildly accepted in D&D.

First of all, we’ll make Desmond a rogue Mind Flayer that no Elder Brain can control at all. This would make him an enemy of the other Mind Flayers (although they wouldn’t necessarily attack Desmond or his host directly though) because he cannot be ‘put in his place’.

Of course, this would also mean that Desmond has no connection to the hivemind (either permanently or, if you’d like, we can make Desmond be able to access the hivemind later on but he’d mistake it for maybe the Bleeding Effects of ancestors he didn’t know about).

And Desmond always appears as Desmond Miles in the MC’s dreams. He’s just as baffled as the MC to why he can see thru their eyes and the MC might even believe that he’s a wizard or a sorcerer who had fallen into a spell of his own or some kind of magical artifact.

Desmond doesn’t believe that because he has all of Desmond Miles’ memories.

That’s when the MC would suggest “Perhaps you did come from another world and have been transformed?”

And that’s when the search for what Desmond is will begin.

Mind Flayer won’t be the first guess of the MC because Desmond doesn’t act like a usual Mind Flayer. He’s sincere and his words held no lies. Sure, he didn’t tell the MC everything about himself but that’s not surprising at all. Everyone has secrets and it was clear that Desmond’s secrets wasn’t his alone to share.

So they bonded in their dreams and Desmond starts to gain more control over the MC’s body. It’s like… the more they share what they were thinking, what’s on their mind, the more Desmond… feel more in control.

Desmond doesn’t think that’s a problem. In Desmond’s eyes, it was just similar to how more ‘invasive’ the Bleeding Effect was becoming (and that is how he and the MC had been calling it, the Bleeding Effect).

And neither of them realize that Desmond was doing what Mind Flayers were meant to do to their host from the very beginning.

The moment the MC starts to talk to Desmond about their thoughts and feelings…

Desmond had begun to eat their mind.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond has no idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t even know what a Mind Flayer is.

I’m thinking we should make the MC magic-focused so that the actions Desmond could do while in control would synergies well enough that they won’t realize that Desmond’s affinity to magic is more on the side of the Mind Flayer’s Psionic Magic ability being on the forefront.

It’s probably going to be the Mind Flayers who would tell the MC and Desmond what Desmond truly is unless they find a character that can tell that the MC is already undergoing ceremorphosis.

You want other people to be the host of his ancestors? We can go for the D&D lore of Mind Flayers and make Desmond lay eggs which will hatch to tadpoles with memories of his ancestors.

Of course, this would mean the real reason why the Elder Brain wants him dead is because his ‘offsprings’ also do not adhere to the rest of the Mind Flayers and they do not need to stay with the Elder Brain to live and grow.

They can automatically be implanted into a host.

Which means… Desmond wasn’t just a Mind Flayer. He could potentially be a Mind Flayer with the power of an Elder Brain.

And… I just have to add this:

[pastafossa]

Hi! I was just wondering if you got my other ask about a TRT au that I want to write. I want to get the ok from you before I start anything.

I went digging for your asks and found them!

First off I feel like Deadpool when he's talking about fourth walls. A fanfic about a fanfic??? that's like... DOUBLE FANFICS

Second off I'm absolutely DELIGHTED by the idea and also really honored that someone would want to do TRT fanfic??? Just got me like

I am 100% ok with it! Anything that puts more fanfic into the world makes me happy tbh, AND it feels like a lovely continuation of the cycle that got *me* writing fic plus if i eventually take parts of trt and make it a real book as planned i would love if people ficced that IT'S THE CIIIIIIIIRCLE OF LIFE

There are only only two things I'd ask (applies to anyone else who may want to do TRT fanfic, which I'm fine with).

Proper credit back to TRT. If the fic's on AO3, then the 'This work is a remix, a translation, a podfic, or was inspired by another work' option when posting is what to use, and that'll let it pop up at the bottom of TRT under the 'works inspired by this one'. If it'll be posted on Wattpad or Tumblr, a link to TRT on AO3 and an acknowledgment is all I'd ask!

This one isn't specific to your idea (which I looked over and am totally fine with!). This is more for anyone else: please do not try to finish TRT, in the sense of trying to write the next chapters. AUs are fine, Blip fics are fine (I admittedly have a Blip side fic planned but it'll be outside of the main TRT story), various adventures, Foggy musings on canon, shenanigans, NSFW or SFW scenes, whatever, are all fine! I only draw the line at 'Pasta hasn't updated in a bit so I'm going to write the next chapters and post it'.

Other than that, you are free to move about the cabin with my blessing! I'm super excited to see what you come up with!

[dragonsdendoodles]

I dunno about y’all but loop day’s pretty busy for me, I got a date ✌️

[oneirataxia-girl]

oc halloween challenge 2023 ⇝ day eighteen

What's The Opposite Of Miracles? ft. Wren Bulan

Faith is a dangerous thing, Wren's learned. It made the strongest of them weak at the thought of absolution. She doesn't believe in gods or the good in the world, not anymore; it would just get in the way of getting her duties done. Yet, she finds herself standing more and more often in the rundown church that keeps having things like Nutella appear out of nowhere, oddly enough. She tells herself and her superiors that she's just keeping an eye on the person behind the smuggling of American products into the base and making sure that the guy hasn't stuck a sneaky bug in their operations, but when Wren looks up at the moon and wraps her jacket closer around her shivering body, she can't help but wonder if there exists something like absolution for a messed-up piece of crap like her...

x

the enabler's call: @arrthurpendragon @hiya-itsamber @carmens-garden @daughter-of-melpomene @slytherindisaster @shrinkthisviolet @bibaybe -- want to be added? shoot me an ask!!

[ivymarquis]

the far cry 5 girlies (and/or gays + theys) will be pleased to note that apex predator has bitten me in the ass out of nowhere and I am now back on my Jacob Seed + cc petplay bullshit

altho Im renaming Apex Predator to Mercy because that song better suits the vibes tbh

for those of you who are into the cod shit, if you're into burly military mountain men with a darwinistic world view paired with me weaponizing my knowledge of training animals in the worst way possible, you're in for a fucking treat

[hwangism143]

hugs from channie make everything better.

you were exhausted. it was one of those days when you just felt like going home and sinking into your bed. you had no will to socialize, empathize or even just be awake.

you opened the door with your key, a heavy sigh leaving you body as you walked inside. chan greeted you with a big smile. he was so caring, so perfect and you... you just felt like a burden.

"i look like shit," you said softly, setting your bag down and settling next to him on your couch.

"no," he said sincerely, "you look like you need a hug."

he opened his arms and you sunk into him. you could hear your heartbeat and him humming softly. you could feel tears streaming down your face and chan stroking your hair.

but most of all? you knew you were safe.

[liass-21]

the m:i tag is about to be blessed on christmas day. on #3 of 5 little baby gift fics for you weirdos

[un-pearable]

made a mistake

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort Characters: Percy Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black, Pansy Parkinson, Ginny Weasley, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Albus Dumbledore, Ministry of Magic Employees (Harry Potter), Unspeakable Characters (Harry Potter), Camera Crew - Character Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, mockumentary, Attempt at Humor, Enemies to Lovers, Head Auror Harry Potter, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Ministry of Magic Employee Percy Weasley, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Auror Ron Weasley, Auror Sirius Black, Auror Pansy Parkinson, Auror Bellatrix Black Lestrange Summary:

To get more people working for the ministry, Hermione suggests filming a documentary to help soften their public image. She's determined to show the good wixen of their community that the ministry isn't secretly operating in the shadows or being generally shifty and dark.

But maybe things aren't what they seem. And maybe Harry is well aware of that.

[designernishiki]

You asked for a fic rec so I’ll toss this one at ya: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46767358?view_full_work=true Stick through the formatting for the characterization, tone, and really the whole vibe of this fic. I haven’t been able to get the bathroom call between Daigo and Majima out of my head for weeks since I read it with how naturally it all flows. My own little Daigo characterization booklet to review when I feel like I need a refresher on him.

so I may have stayed up until 6am reading this (would’ve slept earlier but I couldn’t stop reading it) and hgggahaghhhhaggahshhhhhhhh that was one of the most well-characterized fics I’ve ever read what the fuck. like the differences in how each character speaks (both tone-wise and in differing levels of authenticity) and how they speak to specific others (the daigo and majima dyanmic specifically- how they actually take into account how long they’ve been working really closely- SO good), the mental anguish and chaos vs the overwhelming emptiness of being daigo dojima but no longer The 6th Chairman Daigo Dojima……….I could keep going but I think you get it.

tbh I’d been wanting to write something exploring a similar set of dynamics/situation (post-kiryu’s fake death, interactions with haruka, daigo, and/or majima specifically, reflecting on his shortcomings while acknowledging the heavy Grief left behind) but now I’m like. well I still could but this was so well written in regards to daigo and haruka that, as far as something between those two goes, I don’t feel the need to.

thanks for the recommendation! my brain is broken now (affectionate)