#ao3 tagging system exists for a reason | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungkoode · 4 months ago

Text

死 KKANGPAE | #07 死

† sunshine †

"Meandering around the castle late at night wasn’t supposed to take you to Jeon. Nor was he supposed to be the one training you. But here you are."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5.4k

rating: mature

content: AM encounters, outside of the cafeteria spot, smoking, cryptic messages, begrudging acknowledgements, takama appearance (my kiwi boy), training that somehow seems like foreplay

☠ author's note ☠

Alright, you thirsty little monsters, I knew you'd be STARVING for some action so here are some CRUMBS. Bon appétit! Don't say I never gave you anything (￢‿￢ )

Fun fact: Takama literally didn't exist until I was hate-eating a kiwi at like 2 AM after a terrible day. Just popped into my brain fully formed like Athena from Zeus's forehead but considerably more polite. I don't necessarily intend for him to have a massive role but... well, characters have a way of hijacking the plot when I least expect it.

But he's just??? So nice??? I don't know why I'm surprised by my own creation, but here we are. My little kiwi-inspired shaved-head cinnamon roll. Too pure for this gang. Too pure for this fic, honestly.

ACTUALLY, I love all my characters—even the ones who make objectively terrible life choices. It's like watching your disaster children set things on fire and being like "well, at least they're applying themselves." But I also have WAY more information about them than you do, so my attachment makes sense I guess (•̀ᴗ•́)و

So that leaves me wondering... which character is your favorite so far? And which one makes you want to throw your phone across the room? I have my suspicions about the general consensus, but maybe you'll surprise me. I read all your comments so let me know!

And before anyone asks—no, I will not be giving you more than crumbs. The slow burn tag exists for a reason, and that reason is I enjoy chaos. Your tears sustain me. Stay mad!

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

read on wattpad

tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

You don't see Jeon for two weeks after the ankle incident.

Not that you saw him much before, mind you. Your paths barely crossed even when you could walk properly. But his absence feels... noticeable. Like missing a storm cloud that usually hovers at the edge of your vision. You wish you could say it's a relief not having him around, but maybe you've just gotten used to being the target of his general disdain.

It's 5 AM and you're wandering the castle halls like some restless ghost. Most people would say roaming a gang headquarters before dawn is asking for trouble, but they don't understand the appeal. Everything's quiet at this hour—no footsteps echoing off stone walls, no voices carrying from common areas.

Just you and your thoughts and the soft hum of the heating system.

Besides, what else are you supposed to do when sleep keeps dodging you? Your legs are itchy with the need to move, to do something. And it's not even about your ankle anymore.

That's actually healing pretty well, thanks to following J-Hope's instructions to the letter. Two weeks of medical training turned out to be more interesting than you expected. You learned how to stitch wounds, dress injuries, even set a broken bone (though hopefully you'll never need that particular skill).

J-Hope's... different than you thought. You wouldn't call yourselves friends exactly—there's still that whole "he's on the Council and you're basically a grunt" thing making things weird. But under all that cranky exterior and constant complaining, there's someone genuinely reliable. The kind of person you'd want patching you up after a mission gone wrong.

He actually cares about people, even if he shows it by threatening to revoke their medical privileges. Which is more than you can say for some people.

l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶c̶e̶r̶t̶a̶i̶n̶ ̶s̶n̶i̶p̶e̶r̶

At least J-Hope's grumpiness comes with a side of actual human emotion. Unlike Jeon, who seems about as caring as the brick walls you're currently stalking past.

Maybe that's not entirely fair though.

You've caught glimpses of something else beneath all that ice he wraps around himself—little cracks scattered across that stoic shell he wears so well.

Whether that something counts as actual human emotion is still up for debate.

These past two weeks without him have been... easier.

You hate admitting it, even to yourself, but not having to constantly watch your step around Hurricane Jeon has been a relief. No more walking on eggshells, no more bracing for the next storm.

Your feet carry you to the cafeteria's outer corridor before you really think about it. The same spot where you had that lovely second chat with Jeon—the one where he made it crystal clear just how much he enjoyed talking to you.

The memory still stings, which is stupid because why should you care what he thinks?

But the universe, it seems, has a sick sense of humor.

Because there he is.

A shadow against the night sky. Sharp angles. Quiet intensity.

The cigarette between his fingers glows like a dying star, smoke curling into the darkness. Something in your chest does this weird little flip that you choose to ignore.

"What are you doing here?" The words slip out before you can stop them; and as soon as they leave your mouth, you realize how dumb they sound—like you have any more right to be here than he does.

He must think the same thing because he doesn't even bother turning around. "And you?"

"Has anyone ever told you it's rude to answer a question with another question?" You lean against the wall opposite him, trying to look casual.

You study his silhouette against the window—the slight hunch of his shoulders, the way his forearms rest on the ledge. The cigarette looks natural between his ringed fingers, like it belongs there. You catch that familiar scent of pine and mint mixing with tobacco smoke.

Part of you expects him to ignore you completely. That would be classic Jeon—pretending you don't exist unless he needs bait for paintball practice.

But another part hopes he won't.

Because there is something different about him in these quiet hours, something less... hurricane-like. You wonder what keeps someone like him awake at this hour. What ghosts chase sleep away?

"You're really not going to answer my question?" You push a little, testing how far this almost-civil moment can stretch.

"Couldn't sleep." His voice comes out low. "That's all."

"Makes two of us." The sigh slips out before you can catch it.

He makes this soft sound—not quite agreement, not quite dismissal. More like a hum. It nearly gets lost in the pre-dawn quiet.

"Why not grab coffee then?" You can't help asking. The sun's barely thinking about rising.

"Cafeteria doesn't open until six." He says it like it's obvious, like everyone should know the castle's breakfast schedule by heart.

You tilt your head, curious now. You've been doing the early breakfast routine for weeks, chasing those fresh croissants, but you never knew there was an actual schedule.

"How do you know that?"

"Common knowledge." The words come quick, almost defensive. But there's something else there, like maybe he knows the schedule because he's spent his fair share of sleepless nights waiting for that first cup of coffee.

"I see." The words come out quiet, almost lost in the pre-dawn air. It's like something about this hour that makes conversation feel... heavier. Still, curiosity nags at you. "Why not try going back to sleep?"

His jaw clenches—just slightly, but you catch it. "Cafeteria opens in an hour anyway. Might as well wait."

"For an hour?" You can't help the disbelief in your voice. "You must really love that first cup of coffee."

He finally turns to face you, though his hand stays outside, cigarette smoke curling into the darkness. Those dark eyes study you like you're a puzzle he can't quite solve, picking apart every micro-expression.

"So you knew?"

"What?" Your eyebrow arches of its own accord.

"That morning, few weeks back. Same spot." His gaze doesn't waver, like he's trying to read something written on your soul. "You got there first. Took the first coffee."

"I... did?" You frown, trying to remember. Because seriously, who keeps track of stuff like that? Is he actually holding a grudge over coffee? "Oh. Well, I didn't know then. Just found out recently that was your thing."

Something in his expression shifts, those storm-dark eyes softening just a fraction. But instead of saying anything else, he turns back to the window, leaving you to wonder what exactly just happened.

"Second cup's not terrible," he mutters, the words almost lost in the air. "Just doesn't hit the same as the first."

You study his shoulders, the way tension sits there like there's an actual dumbbell; and you can't help but think that seeing him like this—guard slightly lowered, existing in this quiet moment—makes him seem almost human.

"Why's that?"

You don't know why you ask. You don't know why you're curious.

He takes another drag from his cigarette, the ember burning bright against the darkness. Smoke curls from his lips as he considers your question, his ringed fingers tapping an absent rhythm against the window sill.

"It's routine now." His answer comes after a silence that stretches just long enough to be uncomfortable, and the words feel heavy, like they carry more weight than he's letting on.

"Routine?" A small huff of amusement escapes your lips—trust Jeon to make something as simple as coffee sound like a military operation.

But there's something about him that makes you want to dig deeper. Maybe it's the way he almost looks peaceful at this hour, or how the soft pre-dawn light catches on his silver chain. Whatever it is, you find yourself wanting to understand the storm that lives behind those dark eyes.

He lets the silence build again, but it feels different now. Less like he's ignoring you. More like he's actually considering his words.

"I just..." He hesitates for a second, and it's weird—because you haven't seen him hesitate, ever. "I like knowing exactly where things stand when my day begins. Everything else might go to shit, but at least that first cup is always exactly what I expect."

The confession hangs between you, oddly vulnerable for someone who usually keeps his emotions locked down tighter than the castle's security system.

You wonder what it costs him to admit even this small thing.

"I get it." The words come out softer than intended, gentle in a way you didn't mean to be. "Control matters. Especially here."

Your heart does this weird skippy thing that you choose to ignore. Because empathizing with Jeon? That's definitely not part of the plan. t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶s̶ ̶k̶i̶n̶d̶a̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶v̶u̶l̶n̶e̶r̶a̶b̶l̶e̶

It's almost like the night is wrapping around you both, filled with the kind of silence that feels too heavy to break. His scent is stronger now that he's turned to face you properly, and why the fuck are you noticing stupid shit like that?

He flicks his cigarette out the window, the ember trailing through the darkness like a falling star. When he looks at you again, those dark eyes hit like a physical force.

Suddenly, something storms behind them.

Something you can't quite read but definitely feels dangerous.

"You think you understand?" His voice is rough. "Trust me, you don't know shit about control or lack thereof. Not here."

The words slam into you like a door being shut in your face. Like the moment you thought you'd almost glimpse something real, his walls went up again.

"Maybe I don't know everything about control." You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down even though your heart's trying to crawl up your throat. "But I see enough. This isn't just about coffee for you, is it?"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know you've pushed too far. You probably don't know anything about what control means to him, about why he needs that first cup of coffee like he needs air. But something about Jeon makes you stupid brave, makes you want to push at his walls until something breaks.

Maybe it's the pre-dawn air making you reckless. Maybe it's the way vulnerability looks on him, rare and fascinating. Or maybe you just never learned when to shut up.

A muscle jumps in Jeon's jaw as he studies you. Those dark eyes narrow like he's trying to dissect your words, find the hidden meaning behind them.

"And what exactly do you think you see?" The question comes out sharp, wrapped in cynicism.

"I see someone who needs their first coffee before dawn not because they love the taste." Your voice drops without you meaning it to, like you're sharing a secret neither of you is ready to acknowledge. "But because they need something certain when everything else isn't."

Silence falls.

But Jeon doesn't look away.

That storm that usually rages behind his eyes goes quiet, replaced by what you think is understanding, or maybe just resignation.

"You're reaching." His smirk doesn't quite land, missing that usual bite. There's a pause before he says it though—just long enough to make you wonder if you hit closer to home than he wants to admit.

"Maybe." You hum. "Or maybe I just pay attention."

Jeon stares at you like he's seeing something new, something that doesn't quite fit with whatever image he had of you before.

"Or maybe," he whispers, eyes dark and tinged with slight amusement, "you just like pushing buttons to see what happens."

"I prefer 'tactical engagement.'" You tilt your head, matching his tone. "Sounds more professional, don't you think?"

He turns back to the window, but not before you catch the ghost of what might have been a smile. The sky's starting to lighten, painting everything in soft greys and blues. When he speaks again, his voice has gone quiet, thoughtful in a way you've never heard before.

"Professional or not, it's still dangerous territory."

"You say that like it's supposed to scare me."

You don't mean for your words to come out that light, almost teasing. But then again, everything about Jeon is uncertain. It's weird how each conversation with him feels like carefully picking your way across thin ice—reckless indeed, but kind of thrilling too.

The scoff he lets out in response sounds almost fond. Almost. When he faces you again, he leans against the windowsill, and you notice how the early light catches on his eyebrow piercing.

"If it doesn't scare you yet..." His voice drops lower. "It should. You can never be too careful around here."

The way he says it makes you think he's not just talking about coffee anymore. Like he's implying something darker. Something that hints at experiences you probably don't want to know about. But instead of making you want to back off, it just makes you more curious about what lies behind all those walls he's built.

You study him for a moment, trying to read between the lines. Everything in Kkangpae has double meanings—even warnings about coffee, apparently.

"I'll keep that in mind." You respond. "And don't worry, your precious first cup is safe from me."

"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine." His lips twitch, and for a second you catch something that might almost be a smile—gone so fast you could've imagined it, but the memory of it lingers like smoke.

"Also..." The words stick in your throat for a second, but fuck it. Here goes nothing. "Thanks for the croissant."

He stiffens. A blink follows—one that lasts a heartbeat too long. If you weren't watching so closely, you might have missed it.

"Don't know what you're talking about." His voice goes flat, dismissive—like you're crazy for even making such assumption. But there's something in his eyes before he turns away—something that colors his reaction. You don't know what color, though.

Maybe Yunjin wasn't so far off after all.

Silence descends again between you two, and so you take that as your cue to leave, pushing off from the wall with a small nod. Your footsteps echo down the hallway as you head for the elevator, each click against stone counting down the seconds until dawn.

Then his voice catches you mid-step, low and quiet like he's talking more to himself than you:

"Glad you liked it."

You freeze, caught between wanting to turn around and knowing you shouldn't. Because this feels oddly like something fragile; perhaps vulnerability he didn't mean to show. Like catching a glimpse of something wild and knowing any sudden movement might make it disappear.

So you stay there, suspended between one step and the next, letting that quiet admission settle in the pre-dawn air.

But you don't turn around.

Jeon deserves that small reprieve.

Takama turns out to be nothing like you expected.

You'd figured Jeon's second-in-command would be a mini-version of him—all stormy eyes and cynical sarcasm, ready to freeze you with a glare. That's what would make sense, right? Deputies usually mirror their leaders, picking up their habits like cats picking up fleas.

But Takama? He's about as similar to Jeon as a gentle breeze is to a hurricane.

Sure, he's quiet and precise—you've never seen someone demonstrate a low kick with such mechanical perfection. But that's where the similarities end. There's nothing cold or distant about the way he corrects your stance, nothing harsh in how he points out your mistakes. Even when you mess up the same move for the fifth time, his patience doesn't crack.

The training room feels different with him here. Less intimidating, somehow, even though Takama commands respect in his own way. His shaved head and slate gray eyes give him this intense monk-warrior vibe, but without the whole "I could kill you with a glance" energy that radiates off Jeon.

You'd been low-key terrified when you first walked in here. Your brain had conjured up all sorts of scenarios—because you didn't know what or who to expect. So the walk to the training room had felt like heading to your execution, each step heavier than the last.

Then you'd pushed open the door and found... just Takama.

No thorny roses. No brewing storms. Just a bald guy in training gear, looking about as threatening as your high school gym teacher.

Relief should've been your first reaction. But honestly? You had been more confused than anything. Yunjin's endless fountain of gang gossip had barely mentioned Takama beyond "he's Jeon's deputy."

Which begs the question—why is he the one teaching you?

The answer came to you a bit later.

After your injury, Jeon disappeared on some mission, and by the time J-Hope grudgingly cleared you for training, he still hadn't surfaced. V stuck around during your recovery, but naturally, the universe had other plans—he got sent out right when you were supposed to start training with Assassination.

So you had ended up assigned to Takama. Which honestly? Might be a blessing in disguise.

That first day, you'd been a nervous wreck. Two weeks of lying around while everyone else trained? Not great for the confidence. You'd walked into the training room expecting to get chewed out for falling behind.

Instead, you got... this.

This half-japanese (according to what he's told you) guy, who is nothing like his boss. Where Jeon fills a room like an incoming storm, Takama's presence is more like early morning fog—quiet, steady, impossible to pin down. No hurricane winds trying to knock you off balance, just... calm.

"Ready?"

His voice pulls you back to the present. The way he asks makes it sound like an actual question, not a challenge or a threat. Like if you said no, he'd actually wait.

You nod, watching as he flows through another set of combat moves. There's something almost peaceful about how he fights—each motion precise, purposeful, no energy wasted. Like watching someone solve a complicated math problem with perfect handwriting.

Your first attempt at copying him is... less graceful. Your body feels clumsy, still remembering two weeks of forced rest. But Takama just watches, gray eyes taking everything in without judgment.

"Your balance is off." He steps closer, adjusting your shoulder with careful hands. "Try shifting your weight here instead."

The training room door creaks open and you freeze mid-movement, that familiar scent of pine and mint hitting you before you even turn around.

Oh.

Jeon stands in the doorway like some drama lead making his entrance, gym bag slung over one shoulder. For a second, surprise flickers across his face (guess he wasn't expecting company). His fingers tighten on the bag strap like he's considering turning around, but then he steps inside anyway, letting the door click shut behind him.

The room feels smaller suddenly.

You catch that slight shift in the air that always comes with his presence, like the pressure drop before a storm. Takama doesn't react beyond a quick glance, probably used to Jeon randomly showing up to brood and punch things.

Those dark eyes sweep over you and Takama, something flashing in them before he looks away. He heads straight for the boxing area, dropping his bag with a thud that echoes in the quiet room. He seems to be starting his prep routine, and it looks almost meditative—like he's done this a thousand times before.

You look at Takama, wondering if you should... what? Leave? Apologize for existing in Jeon's general vicinity? But Takama just gives you this tiny nod that clearly means 'ignore him, keep working.'

So you do. Or try to. Because—easier said than done.

Your rhythm's all off now. You keep catching glimpses of Jeon as he methodically removes his rings, setting each one aside carefully. You don't mean to look but... The way he wraps his hands is almost hypnotic. Years of practice, you bet.

He doesn't look your way once, completely absorbed in his own thing. His brow's furrowed slightly, that little crease appearing that usually means he's either concentrating really hard or plotting someone's murder. h̶o̶p̶e̶f̶u̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶s̶

And honestly? The contrast is almost funny—you and Takama over here doing your best sensei-student routine, while Jeon radiates 'don't fucking talk to me' energy from his corner.

"Focus." Takama adjusts your stance again with gentle hands.

And the thing is... You're trying, really trying, but your attention keeps drifting to the other side of the room like a compass finding north.

Because Jeon's started his shadow boxing routine, and it's... distracting. Each punch flows into the next like water, and you catch yourself wondering how someone who radiates such raw strength can move with such precision.

Then your eyes meet his in the mirror for a split second. Something flickers across his face—maybe surprise, maybe something else—before his signature aloofness slides back into place. His usual scent is stronger now that he's working up a sweat.

You force yourself to look away, taking a deep breath that's supposed to help you focus but just fills your lungs with his scent. t̶h̶a̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶i̶n̶g̶

You try to concentrate on Takama's instructions, but your body won't cooperate. Every movement feels wrong, awkward, like you've forgotten how your limbs work.

"Keep it fluid," Takama reminds you, adjusting your elbow. "You're too stiff."

You nod, but 'fluid' feels impossible right now. Your movements are wobbly, hesitating, nothing like the smooth precision you're aiming for. Against your better judgment, you steal another glance at Jeon.

He's moved to the punching bag now, each hit echoing through the room with a thunderous rhythm. The way his muscles move under his shirt is... d̶i̶s̶t̶r̶a̶c̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ completely irrelevant to your training.

You try again, but your next sequence is even worse.

The sigh that escapes you is pure frustration.

You can feel Jeon's eyes on you sometimes, brief glances that burn like touches, and it's making everything harder.

This would be so much easier if he'd just stayed in his room cleaning sniper rifles or whatever he does. But no —he has to be over there looking like some kind of combat god while you fumble through basic forms like a newborn giraffe.

"You're being too soft, Takama." Jeon's voice cuts through the room like ice.

The steady rhythm of the punching bag has stopped, and suddenly the air feels thunderous.

Takama just nods, that zen master calm never wavering. But before he can resume the lesson, Jeon's already moving toward you both, rolling his shoulders like he's getting ready to pounce.

Your stomach does this weird flip thing as he approaches. The scent of pine gets stronger with each step, and you try very hard not to notice how his tank top shows off those tattoos crawling up his arms.

"Let me show you." His voice drops low, almost a growl, and yeah—that's not helping your concentration at all.

Takama steps back, clearly recognizing when to bow out, the traitor.

Jeon moves behind you, and suddenly breathing becomes an advanced skill you've forgotten how to master. His hands wrap around your wrists—warm and steady and way too gentle for someone who looks like he could break you in half.

"Like this." The words ghost across your ear, and you suppress a shiver.

He adjusts your stance, every touch feeling deliberate, calculated. You try to focus on the actual instructions, but all you can think about is how his chest is barely inches from your back and how he smells like mint and forest and leather.

"You need to relax."

Easy for him to say. You're pretty sure 'relaxed' isn't even in your vocabulary right now, not with him standing so fucking close.

His hands guide you through the movement again, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse racing under his fingers. If he notices how your breath catches when his thumb brushes over your inner wrist.

t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶r̶t̶u̶r̶e̶ This is training. Just training. Nothing else.

"Come on. Hit me." Jeon immediately drops into a defensive stance in front of you, those tattooed arms raised like living art.

You blink at him, caught between t̶h̶i̶r̶s̶t̶y̶ surprise and uncertainty. Those dark eyes watch you through the cage of his hands, waiting. Patient. Testing.

When you finally throw a punch, it's half-hearted at best. Not because you think he can't take it—you're pretty sure Jeon could stare down a freight train until it apologized—but because you're too busy trying not to notice his fucking biceps.

His eyebrows draw together, disappointment written all over his stupidly perfect face. "Are you trying to dance tango with the enemy?" The scoff in his voice hits like a slap. "Again."

The criticism stings, but it also lights something inside you. That familiar spark of fuck you that Jeon seems particularly good at igniting. You reset your stance, squaring up to face him properly this time.

"Didn't know you danced." You can't help the smirk that tugs at your lips. "Though tango does take two. Unless you're scared to lead?"

His eyes narrow, and the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. He doesn't move an inch, but somehow his stillness feels dangerous. Like a storm gathering strength.

"I always lead." His voice drops lower, rougher. The words feel like fingers trailing down your spine. "Question is, can you keep up?"

You know he's talking about fighting. He has to be. But there's something else in his voice, in the way his eyes track your movements, that makes your mind go places.

You throw yourself into the next punch with everything you've got. No more half-measures—if he wants a fight, he'll get one. Even if you know he'll probably dodge it because he's t̶i̶n̶f̶u̶r̶i̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶l̶y̶ annoyingly good at this.

Sure enough, Jeon deflects your fist like he's swatting away a fly. The movement is so smooth it's almost insulting. His eyes catch yours as you follow through, and you swear you see a spark of actual amusement breaking through.

"Maybe you should try leading better."

You don't know what you expect when the words fly out your mouth.

Maybe a disbelieving laugh.

Maybe a reprimand.

But then something weird happens.

Because Jeon smirks. Actually smirks, like the ice sculpture suddenly remembered how to have human expressions.

It's so unexpected you almost miss your next block.

"And maybe," his voice drops lower, teasing in a way that does funny things to your stomach, "you should follow instructions better."

You've never heard him sound like that. Playful. None of his usual arctic blast. It's... h̶o̶t̶ distracting.

"Can't when the instructor doesn't know how to give them." You fire back because apparently your mouth has a death wish and your heart's racing, and you tell yourself it's just from the exercise.

"That's why you're here getting lessons, and I'm here teaching them?"

The condescension in his voice should be annoying.

It is annoying.

But somehow it's hot too.

You're suddenly very aware of how close he is, how his eyes haven't left yours, how the thin fabric of his tank top clings to his shoulders.

"Guess seduction skills don't translate to combat," Jeon says, and god, you want to wipe that smug look off his face.

"Good thing I'm not trying to seduce you then." You quip, heart pounding against your ribs fighting a mix of exertion and something else you'd rather not examine.

He scoffs, circling you. "Good indeed. Because you'd fail miserably."

"Don't flatter yourself, Jeon." You mirror his movements, keeping your distance. Your muscles tense, ready to dodge. "You're just a man. My division's bread and butter."

"Is that why you keep dancing around me instead of landing a blow?"

"Maybe I'm studying you. That's what we do—find the cracks, the weak spots."

"And have you found mine?"

"Still working on it." You fake left, but he reads you like an open book. Bastard.

"Keep trying." His lips quirk up, just barely. "You might surprise yourself."

Fuck it. You're done playing defense. You lunge forward, aiming for his left side. Your movements are sharper now, more deliberate. The countless hours of training are finally starting to show.

Jeon blocks your attack, but there's a slight nod—the closest thing to approval you'll probably ever get from him.

"Not bad." He steps back, giving you space to reset your stance. "You're learning."

You drop your arms and watch him. He seems to smile now, head tilting. He looks less hostile now, more... huh?

"But don't get too comfortable, sunshine." His voice drops low, and what the fuck is that nickname supposed to mean? "In both seduction and assassination, the moment you think you've figured it all out is the moment you've lost."

You barely have time to process the s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ unexpected nickname before he's moving. It's a feint to the left—you can tell by the way his weight shifts. You dodge right, proud for reading him correctly, but he swipes you off your feet with a low kick.

Oh shit.

You're going down, but your seduction training kicks in—never waste an opportunity. Your fingers grab his shirt, pulling him with you.

If you're eating mat today, he's joining the menu.

His eyes widen slightly—ha, bet he didn't see that coming. His perfect little training session just went off-script.

Your back hits the mat with a loud thud, and he catches himself on his forearms, caging you beneath him. A strand of his black hair falls forward, and god, it's unfair how he manages to look good even when you've just ruined his whole flow.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, and you tell yourself it's just the adrenaline from the fall. Nothing to do with how his dark eyes are locked on yours, or how the scent of pine and wood seems stronger this close.

Your fingers are still twisted in his shirt—you should let go, but you don't. The fabric bunches under your grip. He doesn't move, but his muscles flex. It's n̶i̶c̶e̶ irrelevant how solid he feels.

The silver chain around his neck dangles between you, catching the fluorescent lights. You focus on that instead of his face, watching it swing with each breath he takes. Better than meeting his eyes or thinking about how his minty breath fans across your cheeks.

But your gaze betrays you, drifting up to his face anyway, and the way his dark eyes are slightly wider than usual... makes him look—

A throat clearing shatters the moment.

Takama.

Great. You forgot he existed.

Jeon tenses above you, jaw tightening as he acknowledges his deputy with a short nod. Less than a second, and his whole leader persona is back.

He pushes himself up in one fluid motion, extending a hand to help you. Honestly, weirdly polite coming from him, but you take it anyway. His palm is warm and calloused against yours as he pulls you to your feet.

"If we're done with the k-drama moments," you say, hoping your voice sounds steadier than you feel, "I'd like to try that move again, thundercloud."

The nickname slips out before you can stop it—petty payback for his "sunshine" earlier. His eyebrow ticks up slightly, and his face is a mix of amusement and deadpan.

But you force yourself to focus. You have a point to prove, after all. You're not some swooning romance novel heroine, and he's definitely not your prince charming.

He's just Jeon—cold, distant, p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ irritating Jeon. And you're just trying to learn how to fight better. That's all this is.

That's all this will be.

But then, he says:

"Sure thing, sunshine."

And it's pure sin.

next | index

🔪 taglist 🔪

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

102 notes · View notes

genevievefangirl · 2 months ago

Text

How to AO3 - A Tagging Guide Masterpost

Maybe it is the autism, but I've always found AO3's tagging system to be extremely fascinating and fun. However, I know that many people do not share my love and find it frustrating and difficult.

Now after over a decade of reading fics on there I can say that I have *opinions* on how works should be tagged. I have seen many people lament over not knowing how to tag, and if that's you, here's a guide!

Blanket Disclaimer – Tagging is inherently subjective. There are very few cases where a fic is truly tagged ‘incorrectly’ since an argument can be made for or against the inclusion of most tags. Besides the 4 major warnings (and selecting a fandom & language), everything else is optional (and you can even not do those 4 if you choose “Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings”). So take a breath and relax, you will be fine.

Additionally, since tagging is subjective, this advice is how I think works should be tagged. You are free to disagree, but these are the guidelines I use and the interpretation that I think makes the most sense.

Alright with that out of the way... here we go!

1. What are tags even for anyway?

Tags are advertisements for your work. Each tag should be considered with care, don’t just throw on a tag for no reason.

There is one main question I want you to take away from this entire post. If you remember nothing else, remember this. When considering to add a tag, ask yourself:

Would a reader looking for this specific tag be happy with this story?

The answer to that for every tag on your work should be an enthusiastic YES. If the answer is no, cut the tag (with a few exceptions – mostly kink/warning related)

2. Ratings

The lines between some of the ratings can get fuzzy, but I generally think about them like I would think about movie ratings.

Not Rated This is the one to use if you either don’t want to rate your fic or are unsure. When people search, this will be treated like M and E fics (meaning a warning will be shown about possible adult content when people click on it). G - General Audiences Suitable for everyone. You could show this to someone under 13 and it would be totally fine. T - Teen Think PG-13 or the equivalent rating in your country. I would categorize total fade to black sex scenes in here and violence on the level of the original Hunger Games books. M - Mature Adult themes such as sex, violence, etc, but not exceedingly graphic. This is where partial fade to black sex scenes go as well as scenes in which the sex is described but not in detail. For violence, I would put anything in here that doesn't spend a ton of time describing the gore. E - Explicit Porn and graphic violence. This is where smut goes. I do also think that when AO3 readers see an E rating they expect sex so if you are rating something E for violence and there is no sex present, you might want to put that in an additional tag so as not to confuse people.

For ratings - use your judgement. Some topics are inherently dark (suicide, non-con (even off screen), death, etc). It is up to you to pick what you think that appropriate rating is for your story based on what you think.

3. Archive Warnings

When you get to this section you will be confronted with 6 checkboxes: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, and Underage Sex.

The last 4 of those (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, and Underage Sex) I will now call the 4 Major Archive Warnings for the rest of this post.

Now let's walk through each of the 6:

Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings - You pick this one if you do not want to select any of the others. If any of the 4 Major Archive Warnings exist in your story and you don't want to tag them, then you MUST select this option to be in compliance with AO3 Terms of Service.

No Archive Warnings Apply - You select this if none of the 4 Major Archive Warnings exist in your fic.

Graphic Depictions of Violence - Often people get tripped up with what counts as 'graphic' for this warning. I usually think about this one in relation to the source material the fic is from. For example, what might qualify as 'graphic' in one fandom might differ from another. But I tend to use the movie rating scale again (anything that would be too much for PG-13 gets the warning), but again it is up to your judgement.

Rape/Non-Con - Pretty self-explanatory. If your fic has this at all, you should tag it. When I see this tagged the implication to me is that the assault occurs on-screen. However, if you want to tag if for off-screen non-con no one will stop you.

Underage Sex - Again, self-explanatory. If your characters are underage and have sex, tag it. Technically, for AO3, underage is considered under 18 no matter where the fic takes place or where you are writing it, so take that under consideration. (This tag can get complicated with immortal beings, aliens, ghosts, or other supernatural elements, just use your best judgement).

Major Character Death - I have the most to say about this one because I find it the most confusing of the 4. I will attempt to not go on a rant here about how I really dislike this one (but man do I hate it). Here are some questions I often see about this warning and how I would answer them: 1. So... who counts as a major character? AO3's official answer to this is to use your judgement. Which isn't super helpful. I think the warning should apply to major characters in your fic not the source material. For example, if your fic's main character is Leon and Arthur dies at some point, but he wasn't a focus of your fic, then I don't think MCD should be tagged. (This might be my most controversial tagging opinion) 2. How do I determine who the main characters are in my fic? Here is my approach - if your story has main ship X with characters A and B driving most of the plot and character C is also there, but is not the main focus of the story, then killing C does not count as Major Character Death. However, if the story is about a trio of characters A, B, and C and A and B also happen to also be in a relationship, then killing C would be Major Character Death. In the end it is up to your discretion as the author, but I would think about how much the character contributes to make a determination. 3. What about temporary death? Do I have to tag MCD for that? I don't think so. The Temporary Death tag exists for a reason and that should be sufficient. 4. Okay so I don't think the character I killed is a major character, but some people might disagree and I don't want people to be mad that I didn't tag MCD. What should I do? Tag Character Death and leave it at that. In my opinion, that is sufficient warning that someone might die. 5. What if the characters are already dead at the start? Like they are ghosts or something? If your characters are essentially immortal creatures whose natural state is dead then I don't think you need to tag MCD. The spirit of the MCD tag is that a character is going away. If the characters are dead but still around then I don't think that is MCD.

Yeah I have a lot of MCD opinions... but moving on!

3. Categories

These are for the type of romantic relationship is in the fic.

Gen - No romantic or sexual relationships, or relationships are not the main focus of the work. F/F - Female to Female F/M - Female to Male M/M - Male to Male Multi - more than one kind of relationship or relationship with multiple partners (so both Poly relationships and fics with multiple relationships as the focus go here). Other - Relationships not covered by the other categories.

4. Fandom

This one is usually easy. You just tag the fandom for the fic you are writing for. Done! But there is an instance where this can get confusing...

When do you tag multiple fandoms? You tag multiple fandoms when you are using elements from another fandom in a CROSSOVER instance! Do NOT tag it if it is used in an AU instance! The difference is subtle, but for example, I am writing my Dead Boy Detectives Hunger Games AU, but since I am NOT crossing over with Hunger Games characters and am only using the Hunger Games setting, I do NOT tag Hunger Games. However, if my fic were to use characters from Hunger Games (like if Katniss showed up for a chat), then I would tag it. This is important because: 1. Some people filter out crossovers and you don't want your fic to be considered a crossover when you are just using it as an AU. 2. Tagging other fandoms where you really aren't using the characters floods the other fandom tag with works that aren't really related to that fandom and that isn't a nice thing to do.

5. Relationship Tags

/ vs & - they mean two different things! The / is for romantic relationships. The & is for platonic relationships. There are times when tagging both is acceptable. For example, if your fic is ambiguous about if two characters are together then you can tag both. Also, if the 2 characters haven’t gotten together yet, but they will at some nebulous point in the future beyond the end of the fic, I think it is fine to tag the / tag since it is pre-slash, but that depends on personal preference.

Poly Ships - “But what if I have a poly ship? Do I tag the poly ship and all the sides of the triangle (or square, or pentagon, you get it)?” It depends on personal preference, but here is how I would do it- Remember , the key for adding any tag is “Would a reader looking for this specific tag be happy with this story?” So, for example, if you are writing a poly fic with characters X/Y/Z and X/Y have scenes together alone and Z/X have scenes alone, then you tag the poly ship and those sides of the triangle. But say Y/Z don’t have much development outside the poly ship, then you don’t tag them. Poly ships can make your relationship tags quite long, but it is better to cover your bases adequately. This way, if people don’t want the poly ship, they can filter that tag out, but if people don’t mind, they will still be able to find your fic while searching for the non-poly tag.

Side Ships - “X couple are the main focus of my fic, but Y couple is there too, should I tag both?” It depends on a couple of factors. If someone clicked on your story just for the secondary Y ship, would they be satisfied? Is there enough content to justify it being a Y ship story or are they just there to support the main X ship? - If they are just in the background and mentioned but get zero onscreen development or scenes DO NOT tag it in the Relationships section! - If they get screen time and development, then DO tag them in the Relationships section. If Y ship does not get enough development to be tagged in the Relationship section, you can tag them in the Additional Tags section. This allows you to highlight couple Y's presence in the fic without clogging up their relationship tag.

6. Characters

Now you might think that if a character is in a relationship tag, then they should be automatically assumed to be in the fic. THIS IS NOT THE CASE. Perhaps a fic includes allusions to X being with Y, but Y isn’t actually present. In that case, only X should be in the Character tags.

On the flip side, if both members of the relationship tag are present in the fic, always tag characters in the Character section too! If someone is just filtering on X and doesn’t put anything into the Relationships section, then they will not find your fic if you don’t tag them individually!

How many characters should I tag? Do I tag everyone? In shorter one shots, you can probably get away with tagging all the characters even if they only have a small role. But in long fics, choices must be made. Tag everyone that you feel gets adequate attention and contributes significantly to the plot. Again, would a reader looking for this specific character be happy with this story?

7. Kinks

I’m not gonna get into the specifics of this because I don't really want to and it isn't my area of expertise, but you know what these are 😂

If you are writing smut, then you should tag the tropes you are using so people can properly filter on what they want and don't want to see.

8. Warnings (outside the Major 4)

There are a lot of warnings you can tag for outside of the Major 4. Here is a list of some of the common ones I have seen:

Suicide

Self-Harm

Incest

Manipulation

Alcoholism

PTSD

Minor Character Death

Gun Violence

Non-consensual touching

Body Horror

Dub-Con

Torture

Psychological Horror

Abuse (Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Animal Abuse)

Homophobic Language

Grief/Mourning

That is in no way intended to be a comprehensive list, but you get the idea. If there is something in your fic that you feel might upset someone, consider tagging it.

9. Time/Universe

Tell people when/where your story takes place!

Alternate Universe - in which something is changed from the canon universe. I usually sort them into 2 major subcategories: 1. Canon Divergence - The fic changes an aspect from canon, but still is in the same general universe. 2. Other AUs - These fics go wild! It can be anything from the classic Coffee Shop AU to an AU based on another fandom property (Harry Potter AUs, Hunger Games AUs, etc) Get creative with your AU tags! If the tag for your specific AU doesn't exist, make it yourself! Also, you can tag multiple AUs for one story if they all apply (such as tagging both Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse and Alternate Universe - The Last of Us Setting)

Canon Universe - The fic takes place in the fandom universe with no changes. There are also subcategories here! 1. Pre-Canon - takes place before the timeline of the source material. 2. Post-Canon - takes place after the timeline of the source material. 3. Canon Compliant - takes place during the timeline of the source material and doesn't change that timeline (think missing scenes)

Almost every fic should have either an AU tag or one of the canon tags!

10. Gender Swap/Trans Characters

Remember that tags are advertisements! If you are writing about trans characters or gender swapped characters, people want to find that! Let them know and tag it!

11. Genre/Big Tropes

These are the big ones. Every fic you post should have at least one of these tags:

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

Fluff

Smut

Romance

Humor

Crack

Every fic has a feeling you want to evoke or emotion you want to convey and that is what these tags are for. Let the reader know what they are in for!

12. More Specific Tags

This is for everything else. This is where you can have a lot of fun. If there is something in your story you want to highlight, put it in the tags! Here are some examples!

Amnesia

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

Slow Burn

Mutual Pining

Fake Dating

Miscommunication

Pregnancy

Mpreg

Jealousy

Abandonment Issues

Codependency

Cuddling

Fake/Pretend Relationship

First Kiss

Love Confessions

Hurt (insert character here)

Protective (insert character here)

Time Travel

Apocalypse

Established Relationship

Or literally anything else your mind can think of! The possibilities are ENDLESS!!!

13. Joke Tags

AO3 is not tumblr, so do not treat the tags like you do on there. The goal of the tags is for readers to find your fic if they want to read it and filter it out if they don’t, so don’t take up a ton of space with joke tags.

However, some joke tags can be fun, and I don’t mind seeing some of them, but keep it limited to a couple at most. They are most useful to clarify something about a tag you used. For example, I tagged “Slow Burn” but right after that tag I put “but also they literally share a bed all the time so… take that as you will”. It is a joke, but it also provides useful information to the reader.

14. How many tags is too many?

AO3 limits you to 75 tags, but you should probably never be approaching that number. I’d say ask yourself that main question (“Would a reader looking for this specific tag be happy with this story?”) for each one of the tags. That should help you narrow it down to the main ones your story represents.

A reasonable goal is that your tag list and summary should just about fit onto a phone screen so a reader can see all of it at once.

I have about 30 tags (including everything) on my current long fic with over 90k words; you don’t need a million tags.

AND THAT'S A WRAP!

My God this too me way too long to make, but I hope this is helpful! Now go tag like an expert!

#wow you made it all the way down here?#I'm impressed!#ao3 #ao3 tagging #fanfic advice #archive of our own #gen talks

76 notes · View notes

crazyman185 · 6 months ago

Text

My Hero Academia Shipping in Fanfiction - Izuku Ships (2024 Edition)

*All data is as of 12/22/2024*

Six years ago I started a [little project] ([2019], [2020], [2021], [2022] editions, i forgot to do 2023 until it was too late) to see what the fic numbers were for certain ships on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net, and today I wish to show this year's stats! The first time I only did seven characters, in 2019 I did eleven, in 2020 I did 15, in 2021 I did 20, in 2022 I did 24, and this year 27 (adding Monoma, Tamaki, and Mirio).

So now, to the specifics.

To do this, I basically looked at the numbers for tagged ships in the filter system each site has (which was a lot easier for FF.net than Ao3). I excluded poly, OC, and x reader ships as that would have questioned my sanity to track them all down. I also excluded any ships that fell below 1% or 0.5% (case by case basis) cause I didn’t wanna cite every ship that might have 1 fic in existence (this takes an entire day to gather the data as is).

Certain characters were unique in that their fic numbers being so high that certain ships got buried, so I split them into Combined and Heterosexual so you could see more. Izuku was the only case that required this on both Ao3 and FFnet, the rest this was only on Ao3.

Crossover fics on FFnet were excluded as they are not included with the main set of fics (though people still post crossovers on the main set anyways), which means I would need to do double the work for each ship. Luckily they are a small data set (less than 10%) and usually have cross shipping over in-universe more often than not.

Illegal ships (kid x adult) were also excluded for obvious reasons.

For the charts themselves: The number next to the title of each chart is the total number of fics used for the data set. Colors are probably inconsistent as I had to use a slider to choose them, which reset with each new data set. Also if two of the same colors I assigned to characters happened to be right next to one another, I chose one as black (which only came to conflict in once instance). And finally, I used my preferences for name spellings and using first or last names.

Now to the flaws.

FF.net has a much smaller pool to pull from (Ao3 has almost 12x more MHA fics) and is limited to only being able to tag two ships at a time for a fic. On the flip side, ships that are tagged are guaranteed to be a showcase in that story. While Ao3′s numbers are impressive the downside is that writers can tag to their heart’s content, so lots of fics that get tagged for a ship often have little to no presence in the fic (or is just harem wank nonsense).

So super accurate, this is not. Take the data with a grain of salt.

I'll be posting each character on seperate pots but have a link on each to reach back to here. I will also post this on bokunoship reddit in the coming day.

If you have any suggestions for future data gathering by me please do ask!

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #fanfiction #shipping #izuku midoriya

29 notes · View notes

risingchaos · 6 months ago

Text

OH DEAR GOD THAT’S A CHILD

—

Rating: Teen & Up Archive

Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)

Characters: Jim Gordon (DCU), Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Dick Grayson is Robin, Jim Gordon is So Done, Protective Jim Gordon (DCU), Dick Grayson Being a Little Shit, But also, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Swearing, POV Jim Gordon (DCU), POV Third Person Limited

Language: English

Words: 1,001

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Batman showing up randomly with a child is going to make Jim go grey earlier than any of these villains will.

AKA Jim Gordon’s first meeting with Robin.

—

The fic on AO3 because for some reason it won’t link properly

—

“Goddamn Batman and his stupid fucking lantern like it’s the 1940’s.” Jim grumbled as he pressed the on switch, wrapping his coat around him tighter after pulling a cigarette from his carton and a lighter from his pocket. Barbara was really pushing for him to quit it, and honestly he should unless he wants to die of a heart attack before fifty, but the job was stressful and a cigarette gave him some much needed relief. Sue him. There’s worse vices, especially in this town.

The wind this high up cut straight to the bone, and he could already feel the chill that meant rain. If he was lucky, the vigilante would show up before the first drops. If he was unlucky, it wouldn’t rain at all, and the chill just meant a fog from the docks was rolling in. Fog always made shit complicated. More car crashes, roads get slick, people did stupid crimes with a nature made cover, and you had to deal with it all not being able to see two feet in front of your nose. And it was hell with his glasses.

He lit the cigarette and sighed out the smoke, resigning to wait anywhere between ten seconds and fifteen minutes until the oversized bat got his ass up here. Seriously, a signal? This was the modern century, burner phones exist. Radios. Walkie-talkies. Hell, with all the tech Batman had, he could probably make some wildly complicated one way transmission system. He didn’t need to put a neon sign up to the city to make sure they understood the GPD was corrupt and incompetent. He preferred if they figured that out themselves, thank you very much.

As he was musing on the impracticalities of the light (seriously, it could be tampered with so easily and there’s no backup Mr. Plans for Everything), that’s when he heard that awful gruff voice behind him.

“Captain.”

Jim definitely did not jump but he did sigh, turning around and ready to give him some crap about not being all creepy, when every single thing he had thought of in the last six minutes of waiting died in his throat as he recognized there was another presence.

A smaller presence.

A much, much smaller presence.

A child.

Batman had a goddamn child with him.

Without long sleeves, and he had on pixie boots, and what looked an awful lot like.. shorts?

“Batman.” Jim could barely conceal the pure bafflement and small rage boiling inside. “Who is that?”

Batman just stared for a moment before gesturing slightly to the boy. “This is Robin. My partner.”

Robin grinned, and waved, and stood up from his crouched position on the fucking edge of the rooftop. Every single paternal bone in Jim’s body screamed at him to pull him away from there, how was Batman okay with that??

“Robin.” He repeated back, and the boy nodded happily. “Pants. Why don’t- why are you wearing shorts? It’s 40 degrees out.”

Well, it was quickly indicated that was the wrong thing to say with the way Robin instantly frowned, his little brows furrowing into what Jim would call a pout. Jesus Christ.

“I’m wearing tights, and it’s not shorts, it’s a leotard! And why does everyone want me to wear pants? They are no fun, and they get in the way of everything! Have you ever tried to do a round off in pants, sir? There’s a reason acrobats don’t wear jeans!” And, as if to prove his point, Robin dove forward onto the rooftop, rolled, and sprung up in a handstand that he held with shocking stability. “See?”

Jim’s eyes flicked up to Batman, who, for just a moment, looked incredibly resigned by the show of acrobatics as Robin came out of the handstand and followed it up with a standing flip (where the hell did Batman find this boy?) before returning to Batman’s side. A blink and you’ll miss it moment before his normal, impassive expression returned.

“Robin.” There was a hint of something Jim couldn’t place in the tone, but instead of cowering like most people, Robin simply beamed again.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Captain. I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things, all good things!” He held up his hands placatingly before clasping them and rocking on his heels. “Now, what’s the sitch? We haven’t got all night, you know.” He could tell Robin winked under that godforsaken domino mask, and by George, was that an honest to God sigh from Batman?

Instead of debating the ethics of Robin running around with, apparently, tights and a leotard any longer, Jim pushed up his glasses with his free hand, rubbed at his eyes for a moment with his fingers, and dropped his shoulders with a heavy breath.

“So, we’ve heard rumblings of Two-Face planning an acid attack..”

________

After three minutes of explaining all he had heard, and letting his poor cigarette go out, he wasn’t going to smoke around what was very clearly a young child, Batman and Robin turned to leave, but Jim wasn’t quite done.

“Batman.” That got the figure to pause. “A word.”

Probably against every bone in the weirdo’s body, Batman turned, and walked closer to Jim. He didn’t say anything, just stared, but he wasn’t going to lose nerve now.

“A single fucking thing happens to that boy, Batman,” his voice was lower, downright angry, “and I’ll show you how good and goddamn ruthless a detective I can be. Got it?”

Batman, of course, didn’t back down, but he did nod once, slow and purposeful. “Captain.”

Then, with a swish of his ridiculous cape, Batman went off the side of the building to follow Robin to wherever the hell they were off to.

Jim let out a long half sigh, half groan, and went to relight his cigarette when a single raindrop hit the end, dampening the paper.

That was enough to get him to go inside and deal with all of this another day.

#fic #I wrote this #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jim gordon #Batman #batman and robin #Captain Jim Gordon #dc #dccu #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

32 notes · View notes

lavalampravus · 3 months ago

Text

HP Fans stfu already pls tyyy

I left the fandom some time ago but have gotten more and more posts in my feed recently. And I'm completely confused about how we're still at the same place/ maybe even further behind than we were years ago.

I haven't read any HP FFs lately, not even ATYD (?) when it came out, but since then I've seen a hunger portion of the fandom be interested in the marauders era. Which is great imo!

But how come we're still doing the anti/pro Snape/James shit?

Is fandom culture dead?

Yes. In other fandoms and on social media I have noticed this as well but there is a reason why AO3 is a great FF platform! No censorship with a great tagging system, perfect for "don't like, don't read". There is a reason for that system. If something genuinely triggers you, you filter it out. If you don't want something specific in your fanfic, you filter it out. And if you don't, YOU CHECK THE TAGS before you read. This also goes for Tumblr and other platforms. Dead dove do not eat and don't like, don't read go hand in hand.

So: if you don't want to hear about what the other side has to say, just block the tag or scroll past it. Simple as that. As well as the other way around, if you say something, you tag it so people who don't want to see that can filter it out. If you post something anti Snape, and don't tag it as that, you don't get to complain about pro Snape ppl interacting. This also goes the other way.

You don't HAVE to interact with people whose opinion you don't share, this is the Internet, so stop complaining and just use the block feature.

Why is ANTI Snape worse than pro Snape?

Obviously being anti ANYTHING is not bad. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. This is my opinion about the anti *thing* tag with the example of anti Snape. This could also be about Anti James, etc.

People talking about characters they like, no matter for which reason, is great. Characters are never saints. Debating certain opinions about the character and the actions they did is important and fun. This also goes about why you don't like a character. But the most important part about this is being respectful while doing so.

Just posting about why a certain character is an asshole in your opinion is a part of fandom culture and has its place. Feel free to debate your opinions. But if you see someone posting "X/Y is my favorite character :3 and this is the reason:.." doesn't mean you should go ahead and comment "but weren't they X? So you're excusing Y behavior? Why would that be your favorite when they are obviously Z?" That is not the place for a debate. If you want one, ask for one. But don't use people's posts being happy about their favorite character to hate on them when they didn't ask for it.

Like I said, this is not just about "Snape is a death eater Nazi equivalent bully of kids", but also about "James (/*other marauder*) bullied and SA'ed Snape for no reason and harassed Lily for years", as well as other characters and fandoms!

What happened during the marauders era?

We have certain parts in the books and movies that indicate what has happened during that time and even more about what happened after. Both the books and the movies are canon. Having characters without certain knowledge about what happened/ how they were like when they were younger is great for HC's! This gives writers more freedom to write than having to make up their own complete story or when writing about characters that do exist and having to tag everything OOC or AU. You HAVE to expect things to be "OOC" when there are nearly no facts.

This is why Jegulus is so popular. Regulus is a watered down Snape in fanfictions imo, but that doesn't mean people shouldn't ship it. It just gives people more creative freedom while writing that 'Savior x victim, forbidden romance, redeemed and saved Slytherin' type, which I PERSONALLY prefer with Jeverus.

Neither Snape nor James were saints!

As already said in the two parts above, there is a constant debate about which character is bad and why. I like both Snape and James, so I won't advocate for either. But people need to realize these characters are both not great people. Simply because one person is worse doesn't mean the other was great. Just because I say that James was a bully to Snape without any reason (since Snape was not a death eater as a student) and he was a rich entitled brat for harassing Lily by not accepting her no, DOESN'T MEAN I don't also believe that Snape was an unfit teacher with his bullying to his students, shouldn't have called people slurs and shouldn't have stayed a death eater 'just to be a spy'. People speaking out about either side are not asking for your opinion or believe either of that behavior can be excused.

Every character is flawed. Even Lily, the rest of the marauders and just, well, everyone.

Getting personal is disgusting behavior and you deserve everything bad that happens to you!

I have seen people genuinely tell people that if they like Snape, they deserve to get bullied. People have also said that to James fans. Bullying is never okay and I hope you guys start thinking about what you're saying. So stfu.

Same with death threats. Are you guys actually that chronically online and disgusting that you wish people death, illnesses and a genuinely bad life for liking/ disliking FICTION CHARACTERS??

Another thing I have heard people say, is that Snape fans are Nazis. I am German. The right wing party AfD is more prominent than ever. They got promoted by Musk. And the so called political middle party (CDU/CSU) spoke about working with the AfD. It is never okay to call people Nazis for liking a certain character (except when the person tells you that they are against immigrants, women, the lgbtq community, aka minorities & vulnerable communities of any kind). Look at Germany, look at the USA, LOOK AT THE WORLD. Go after the real right wing disgusting pieces of shit and nazis. Stop watering down what Nazis were. How it started.

Words have meaning. Using them has consequences. The internet is not a punishment- and law-free area.

Remember: Don't support JKR!

And have a great day <3

14 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 1 year ago

Note

hello! i was looking through the fics on ao3 for a pretty old fandom, and got a thought that for whatever reason, a lot of older fics seem undertagged compared to newer ones. personally, i realised ive seen it in multiple fandoms, but i haven't really done research and am not sure if that's the case for all older fics. is this actually a common thing? older fics having less tags and the tags being more general? does it have to do with the way ao3 implemented more tags and maybe also with transferring works from other websites? because some of those don't have such an extensive tagging system as ao3?

Tags didn't exist in the early internet.

After a while, they existed, but they sucked and were often minimal.

AO3 style tagging is very much a modern thing.

What's going on in your fandom would depend on the exact era though. Some people send me asks where "old" fics are like 8 years old at best, while some are talking about shit from the 70s. Some old archives that have been imported barely had headers, while others had extensive tags.

92 notes · View notes

danmeiexchanges · 1 month ago

Text

Tag Nominations OPEN!

Tagset | MXTX Exchange

Any tag or ship pertaining to an MXTX work will be acceptable! Broader tags with themes will also be accepted! Please just ensure that the concept you are attempting to convey is clear.

Nominate now!

Nomination Guidelines:

Please nominate all relationships under

人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

For the purposes of this exchange, do NOT nominate a relationship tag under a specific adaptation. As an example, if you would like to nominate a character from Chen Qing Ling/The Untamed adaptation of Modao Zushi, do NOT nominate your relationship tags under that adaptation. This is to avoid relationships being tagged twice. You WILL have the opportunity to request a specific adaptation when you are filling out your request in sign ups. But this is not the place for that. Any relationship tags that are nominated under an adaptation will be automatically rejected. Again, you will be absolutely welcome to use your specific preferred adaptation later in the sign up process, this is just not the place for it.

Relationship tags will need to be alphabetical and using ao3's current canon tag for the character. If you would like to nominate a character for solo adventures rather than a relationship, you must add "Solo: " before the characters name. Crossover ships are accepted so long as the crossover is within the MXTX characters.

Additional tags need to be prompts for a story. The prompt can be as specific as "Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan are twins and go conquer the northern desert together" or as vague as "Soulmates AU". But there needs to be a prompt described with the tags.

Examples of relationship tags that will be accepted:

"Meng Yao | Jin Guangyao/Nie Mingjue"

"Solo: Xie Lian"

"Shen Jiu | Original Shen Qingqiu & Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu"

"Hua Cheng/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian"

Examples of relationship tags that will NOT be accepted:

"Nie Mingjue/Meng Yao | Jin Guangyao" (REASON: the ship is not in alphabetical order, this increases the likelihood of accidental double tags)

"Xie Lian" (REASON: missing the "Solo: ", this is a formatting choice by the mods to make the tags clearer)

"Shen Jiu & Shen Yuan" (REASON: the courtesy names are not included, this increases the likelihood of accidental double tags as the official tag for both character uses the courtesy names)

"Chu Wanning/Hua Cheng" (REASON: crossover ships are accepted for this event, but only within the MXTX bubble. Please wait on this delightful crackship for future danmei events that would suit it!)

(these rules exist to avoid doubling ship/character tags and therefore make the matching process smoother)

Examples of additional tags that will be accepted:

"Xie Lian tops Hua Cheng for the first time"

"Character A is in love with Character B but their parents don't approve!"

"Fandom AU: Liu Mingyan and Nie Huaisang participate in a big bang together"

"stuck in a time-loop together with your mortal enemy"

"Arranged Marriage AU"

Examples of additional tags that will NOT be accepted:

"Top!Xie Lian shippers should all die" (REASON: this has nothing to do with the event, this is your personal opinion, unnecessary drama, and not a prompt)

"Don't make Qi Rong a bad person" (REASON: this is a DNW, not a prompt)

"BingQiu forever!" (REASON: this is a declaration of your love for a ship, not a prompt)

"Warning: Xue Yang | Xue Chengmei" (REASON: this is not a prompt, please try rephrasing)

"so this one guy sees this other guy and then they like do purple elephant blanket tree sky yesterday walking pizza and aliens" (REASON: I have no idea what you're talking about, please try rephrasing to make your prompt easier to parse)

Please just try to avoid character bashing, ship bashing, fandom wank, and general bullshit in your tag nominations. Please focus on what you WANT to read, not what you hate seeing.

Please think carefully about your tags! Matching will be done via relationship + additional tags.

PLEASE NOTE: This is an 18+ event and therefore some tag nominations may be 18+. Do NOT nominate tags if you are not 18+. Do not engage with this event if you are not 18+.

#mxtx #danmei #svsss #mdzs #tgcf #event #mxtx event #exchange #fandom exchange #mxtx exchange #mdzs exchange #svsss exchange #tgcf exchange

10 notes · View notes

jungkoode · 5 months ago

Text

THE 25TH HOUR | O1

“𝟎𝟏:𝟓𝟗 𝐀𝐌”

"Time doesn't just stop at 1:59 AM. It fractures, it bleeds, and it brings a stranger who feels achingly familiar. And maybe the biggest mystery isn't the frozen city—it's why he looks at you like he's already lost you a thousand times."

next | index

— chapter details

word count: 2,4k

content: waking up in the 25th hour for the first time, time stopping, meeting the enigmatic min yoongi, and the creeping suspicion that this has all happened before

— author’s note

Well. Welcome to the Yoongi fanfic that will absolutely boggle your brain. Or at least, it’s boggling mine, but maybe that’s because I, unlike 25H!Y/N, am not built for analytical thought. Like, this girl is out here calculating temporal density shifts while I’m struggling to calculate how much sleep I need to survive (spoiler: more than I’m getting).

Honestly, this? I really said fuck the Matrix, let’s make it worse. You think you know where this is going? You don’t. You’re not ready, I promise you that much. This is angsty. Heavily. And not in the Fuck Me Up way, no—there’s no knife to the gut here. This is the slow, creeping existential dread of realizing time is a lie and also, you might be in love with someone who’s doomed. Or, worse, someone who’s doomed you. :) fun!

There’s a star-crossed lovers tag for a reason, okay??? But I’m also a horny hoe, so you will get smut. And not just smut. SMUT. The kind that makes you need to take a walk and question your life choices. I can’t say more or I’ll spoil it, so someone please sew my mouth shut before I start screaming about what’s coming. But just. Trust me. It’s worth it.

I know this might be a lot at first—temporal mechanics, erased timelines, ominous government agencies, Yoongi in a black turtleneck (the most dangerous thing of all)—but I promise it’ll make sense eventually. If not, I’ll make docs and diagrams for you like the absolute nerd that I am. Literally bombard my inbox with questions, I’m ready.

This is my love letter to The Matrix, The Umbrella Academy, and specifically Five Hargreeves (no, I don’t acknowledge Season 4, it doesn’t exist, don’t talk to me). And, of course, it’s also a love letter to Yoongi as the time-traveling, exhausted, morally gray bastard of your dreams.

So, yeah. Strap in. It’s gonna be one hell of a ride.

— read on

AO3

WATTPAD

Your Chrono-Sync Watch reads 01:59:00 AM when time stops.

The initial indicator isn't the digital display—it's the complete absence of the watch's usual microscopic vibrations against your wrist. Standard-issue Chrono-Sync Watches pulse at precisely 60 beats per minute, synchronized with the Master Clock. You've worn one since receiving your Temporal Monitoring certification three months ago. The constant rhythm becomes white noise, unnoticeable until it stops.

Now, at 01:59:00 AM, there is no pulse.

Temperature reading: 22°C. Three degrees below normal.

Your first thought is device malfunction. Protocol dictates immediate reporting of any Chrono-Sync irregularities. You reach for your phone to log the incident, but your hand freezes mid-motion.

The numbers on your digital clock aren't changing.

01:59:00 AM stays fixed, each pixel unnaturally sharp in the darkness of your bedroom. The air feels wrong—charged, like the moment before lightning strikes. The usual ambient sounds of your apartment building have ceased: no hum of electricity, no distant footsteps, no whisper of the heating system.

That's when you notice him.

He stands at the foot of your bed, a figure cut from darker shadows. Male, approximately 175cm, black clothing, pale skin. His posture suggests military training—weight evenly distributed, hands relaxed at his sides but ready to move. He's watching you with an expression you can't quite process: recognition layered with something that looks disturbingly like resignation.

Your body's reaction makes no logical sense.

Instead of fear or shock, you feel an inexplicable pull of familiarity. Your muscles relax rather than tense. Your right hand twitches, as if reaching for something—or someone—it expects to find.

"You weren't supposed to wake up." His voice carries no surprise, only weary confirmation. The words resonate at a frequency that makes your temples throb.

You know this voice.

You've never heard it before.

"Temporal anomaly detected at 01:59:00 AM," you find yourself saying, the words automatic yet foreign on your tongue. "Subject appears to be—"

"Agent Min Yoongi, Temporal Investigations." He cuts you off, his tone clipped. Professional. Wrong. "And you're about to have a very long hour, Monitor A-735."

The employee ID strikes something in your mind—a discordant note in an otherwise perfect sequence. You've never told him your designation. You haven't even started your new position at the Monitoring Center yet; orientation begins tomorrow.

"That's impossible," you say, falling back on data analysis. "The Chrono-Sync Network ensures perfect temporal alignment across all sectors. Temporal stasis of this magnitude would require—"

"Energy equivalent to powering the entire Eastern Seaboard for a year?" His lips twist into something that's not quite a smile. "The calculations are in your desk drawer. Third one down, behind the spare calibration tools you haven't bought yet."

You don't own a desk. You don't own calibration tools.

You know exactly which drawer he means.

The air crackles with increased static charge. Your skin prickles with electricity, and colors seem to sharpen beyond normal parameters. The taste of ozone grows stronger, mixing with something metallic—like memory, if memory had a flavor.

"What is this?" You check your watch again: 01:59:00 AM. No change. "How are you—"

"Get dressed," he interrupts, turning his back to you with practiced efficiency. "You have questions. I have approximately 58 minutes to answer some of them before they notice you're awake."

"They?"

"The Erasure Bureau." He says it like he's reading from a script he's memorized too many times. "They'll be here soon. Standard response for newly awakened Outliers in your sector."

Your hands are already moving to your dresser, selecting clothes with mechanical precision. The motion feels rehearsed, like muscle memory you shouldn't have. "I don't—"

"You're right-handed but you'll reach for the left drawer first," he says, still facing away. "You'll pick the black shirt because it's practical for temporal work. You'll grab the jacket even though it's warm because the temperature drops three degrees during the 25th hour. You'll put your hair up because you hate how it staticizes when time stops."

You freeze, left hand extended toward the drawer he indicated, right hand already moving to gather your hair.

"How do you—"

"We have 56 minutes left." His voice catches on the number. "And you'll need at least 10 of those to process the existence of the 25th hour without trying to rationalize it as a quantum irregularity or temporal feedback loop."

You're already forming hypotheses about quantum irregularities and temporal feedback loops.

"Stop thinking like an analyst," he says, and for a moment, his professional tone cracks. "Just... get dressed, Noma."

The nickname hits you like temporal whiplash. Your heart stutters, a arrhythmia that has nothing to do with the stopped time.

"What did you call me?"

"54 minutes." He checks a watch he isn't wearing. "And they're already tracking the temporal disturbance. We need to move."

You get dressed because it's logical, because it's protocol, because your body seems to know what to do even if your mind is still calculating impossibilities. The fabric raises static electricity when you pull it on, tiny sparks in the frozen air.

"Where are we going?" You check your watch again: 01:59:00 AM. The endless minute stretches out before you, an hour that shouldn't exist.

"To show you what happens when you wake up in the 25th hour." He finally turns back, and something flickers in his eyes—a flash of gold in the frozen time.

The word 'again' echoes in your mind like feedback from a temporal loop. You follow him because it's illogical, because it breaks protocol, because your body seems to remember steps it's never taken.

You have 53 minutes until time resumes.

You don’t have many more until the Erasure Bureau arrives.

You have no idea how many times you've done this before.

The frozen streets of Boston stretch out before you like a temporal photograph.

Your analytical mind automatically begins cataloging the anomalies: a taxi suspended mid-turn, its wheels hovering millimeters above the asphalt. Steam from a manhole caught in crystalline suspension. A woman frozen mid-stride, her scarf defying gravity in an arc that shouldn't maintain its shape.

"47 minutes," Agent Min announces without checking any visible timepiece. The hair hair on your arms rise despite the winter cold. His movements are too precise as he leads you through the frozen city—steps calculated, like he's walked this exact path countless times before.

You follow, mentally mapping your route. Third Street. Left on Harrison. Your usual path to—

"The coffee shop?" You stop at the familiar storefront. The neon sign flickers oddly in the frozen time, casting strange shadows that shouldn't exist when time isn't moving. "Why are we—"

"Look inside." His voice is carefully neutral, but there's something beneath it. Something like resignation. "Tell me what you see."

The window should be dark at 1:59 AM. Instead, warm light spills onto the frozen street. Through the glass, you can see the interior exactly as it always is during business hours—except completely still, caught between moments.

Except...

"That's my laptop." The words come out wrong, too quiet. "But I didn't—I was at home when time stopped. I haven't been here since—"

You press closer to the window. The laptop sits open at your usual table, surrounded by papers covered in equations you don't remember writing. A half-finished iced americano sits beside it, condensation frozen mid-drip.

"You ordered that drink six hours ago," Agent Min says. "In a timeline that no longer exists."

Your nose starts bleeding.

He hands you a black handkerchief before you even register the metallic taste. The fabric is worn soft, like it's been used for this exact purpose many times before. Your fingers fold it automatically into a familiar shape you shouldn't know.

"Look at the napkin under your coffee," he continues, his voice steady despite the way his hands clench at his sides. Like he's stopping himself from reaching toward you. "Read what you wrote."

You squint through the window.

There, in your handwriting:

1:59 am — Temporal overlap detected in sector 7

Time displacement: 3.7 seconds

Cause: unknown

Note to self: Ask Min about the golden traces

"I didn't write that," you say, even as your head pounds with the ghost of a memory. "I've never even been here at night. The shop closes at—"

"Ten PM. Except during the 25th hour." Agent Min's reflection in the window looks tired. Ancient. "You've written that same note seventeen times. In seventeen different timelines."

The static in the air intensifies. Your Chrono-Sync Watch remains frozen at 01:59:00, but you swear you can feel time trying to move around you, like waves breaking against a stone.

"What golden traces?" Your voice sounds distant to your own ears.

Instead of answering, Agent Min reaches toward the window. Where his fingers touch the glass, faint golden lines appear—like time itself is bending around his touch.

"44 minutes," he says softly. "That's how long we have before time resumes and they come looking for you. Again."

"Who?"

"I told you." He pulls his hand back, but the golden traces linger. "They detected your temporal signature the moment you woke up. The Erasure Bureau will be at your apartment by 2:03 AM."

You should argue. Should point out that temporal signatures are theoretical, that the Erasure Bureau is just an urban legend whispered about in the break room.

Instead, you find yourself asking:

"How many times have they found me?"

His not-quite-smile holds centuries of grief.

“Too many to count. But this time—" He stops himself, jaw clenching. "This time we're going to do things differently."

"Different how?"

He checks the time you can't see. "41 minutes. Long enough to show you how to hide from them, if you're willing to trust me."

You look back at the window—at the evidence of a life you don't remember living, at equations that make your head spin with almost-recognition. At the golden traces slowly fading from the glass.

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice." He sounds like he's quoting someone. Maybe you. "That's why they keep trying to erase you."

Through the window, you can see other details now. A jacket you lost months ago hanging on your chair. A phone charging that you could swear is in your pocket. A notebook open to a page where you've written a single sentence over and over:

Don't trust CHRONOS. Trust Min. He remembers.

He remembers.

Your head pounds at the words. Your watch stays frozen. And somehow, you know with absolute certainty that you've lived this moment before.

"40 minutes," Agent Min says quietly. "What's it going to be?"

You nod, the motion sending another drop of blood onto the handkerchief. The equation written there blurs—or maybe that's just your vision swimming.

Agent Min exhales sharply, the sound carrying years of frustration. His hand rakes through his hair—a gesture that seems both foreign and achingly familiar.

“Always with the—" He cuts himself off, jaw tightening. "39 minutes. We're behind schedule. Again."

His fingers wrap around your wrist with almost clinical precision, careful to grip over your sleeve rather than skin. The minimal contact sends a jolt through your system—not just static electricity, but something deeper.

Your pulse jumps 7 beats per minute. His skin runs exactly 2.3 degrees warmer than human standard.

"Agent Min, the physical contact protocol clearly states—"

"Your temporal signature is spiking," he interrupts, voice a tad strained, already pulling you away from the coffee shop window. "The contact stabilizes the frequency. Unless you want them detecting you from three sectors away?"

You want to argue, to cite regulation 47.3 about unauthorized temporal stabilization.

Instead, you find yourself analyzing the precise way his fingers align with your radius and ulna—perfect placement for optimal temporal resonance.

Like he's done this exact thing countless times before.

"38 minutes," he says, pace increasing. "Your cognitive processing is about to spike. Try not to fight it this time."

"This ti—" The word fragments as another wave of vertigo hits. The frozen street blurs, overlapping with other versions of itself. You see phantom footprints in the snow that hasn't fallen yet, traces of paths you haven't walked.

Your analytical mind tries to catalogue the impossibilities:

Temperature dropping 3.1 degrees.

Static charge increasing exponentially.

Colors shifting 0.7 nanometers toward ultraviolet.

Agent Min's grip adjusting exactly 0.4 seconds before you stumble.

"The temporal density is—" You start, clinging to mathematics as reality fractures around you.

"—increasing exponentially with proximity to the source," he finishes, that not-quite-smile returning. "You always say that. Right before you—"

Your knees buckle. His free hand is already there, still avoiding skin contact but steadying you nevertheless. The contact doubles the intensity of the memory bleed:

«A different night. The same grip on your wrist. Numbers burning behind your eyes as you realize what CHRONOS really is. His voice, urgent: "A-735, we need to move. They're coming.»

"Stop fighting the cognitive loop," Agent Min says, his current voice overlapping with the echo. "Your temporal resistance is too high. It's going to—"

Your nose starts bleeding again. Figures.

He mutters something that sounds like "stubborn" in a tone that carries too much history. His thumb shifts against your wrist over the fabric, pressing into a point that makes the vertigo recede slightly.

"36 minutes," he says, voice clipped. "We need to get you underground before the next memory hits. Your calculations were right, by the way."

"What calculations?"

"The ones you're about to remember." He changes direction, leading you down a narrow alley you've never seen before. Yet your feet know exactly where to step. "The ones that got you erased last time."

The static in the air thickens. Your Chrono-Sync Watch remains frozen at 01:59:00, but you swear you can feel time trying to writhe around you, like a living thing in pain.

"Agent Min," you say, focusing on protocol to keep your mind from fracturing further. "Where exactly are we—"

"Noma, please."

The words slip out, too soft, too familiar.

Imperceptibly, he stiffens.

Then he corrects himself. "A-735. We're going to the one place CHRONOS can't monitor properly. Try not to pass out this time."

This time. Always this time.

Your head pounds with equations you haven't written yet, theories you haven't proven, memories you can't possibly have.

The only constant is his grip on your wrist, warm and certain, like an anchor in a temporal storm.

35 minutes left.

The numbers feel like a countdown.

You're not sure to what.

taglist: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

48 notes · View notes