#but what's writing without making someone suffer hmm? not my writing that's what

[thegoldenlily]

it’s about the codependency and the love you have for your best friend and the love you have because it’s not just friendship, it is love, but you’re young and don’t know how to say that or process that, and now suddenly it’s too late and all you have are the memories that make you feel sick

[bitchlessdino]

put it in writing (m)

In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)

You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.

Until tonight. 

Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree. 

The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?

You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.

“You, okay?”

You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”

“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”

“Suffer my consequences!”

“Of course, darling.”

Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”

You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.

His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer. 

“I’m going over there.” 

Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”

Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”

“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.

You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”

“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.

You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”

He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.

He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”

“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.

“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”

“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.

“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”

“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.

You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”

He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”

You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.

“Care to find out?”

“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.

“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”

You hum amused. “Define fun.”

He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.

The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.

As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.

There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.

“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”

“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”

“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.

Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”

You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.

You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.

You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.

Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.

The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”

“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it,  you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”

“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”

“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”

“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”

You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”

His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”

“Are you planning on finding out?”

You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.

You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.

He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”

You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”

Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips. 

You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.

Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.

“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”

“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”

Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”

“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”

Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”

“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”

“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.

“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.

Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.

“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”

“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.

You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”

“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.

Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”

“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.

“S-Seungkwan…”

His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.

You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.

“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.

You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.

“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.

You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.

“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.

You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came. 

Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously. 

“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy. 

His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat. 

Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you. 

He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“

“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”

“But what if—“

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.

“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.

You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”

The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”

Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”

His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”

You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.

“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”

His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”

He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”

“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”

You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”

“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.

“Are you actually—“

His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”

His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes. 

Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.

His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.

When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.

Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.

“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”

The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”

You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.

Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come. 

The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.

Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.

With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.

When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.

He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.

You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.

When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.

As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.

“I had a question, Miss LN.”

You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.

“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.

“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.

“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.

“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”

You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.

You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”

As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”

Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”

He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”

You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”

“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”

“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”

“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”

“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”

Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”

“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”

You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”

“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.

He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”

“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”

“Good.”

But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”

“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”

You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin. 

“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.

As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.

It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.

But is it really a rumor if its all true?

"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"

You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.

"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.

Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."

You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."

The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.

Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."

"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"

"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."

"Uh, yeah. Obviously."

"Good."

"Good."

"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"

He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."

"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.

"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"

"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.

Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."

"You bet  money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.

"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."

You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."

"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"

You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"

Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."

"Soobin."

"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.

“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”

“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.

“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.

“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”

He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”

“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"

He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."

As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–

"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"

Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."

Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."

"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.

Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."

He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."

You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."

You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."

"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.

Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."

"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.

You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"

Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.

But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"

"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now. 

"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.

Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.

Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.

Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.

"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."

Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.

You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.

With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.

‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’

Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.

He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.

Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.

[frownyalfred]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @lurkinglurkerwholurks

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 146! It would be a larger number if I hadn't deleted all of my Supernatural fics back in the day. There were at least 30 of those, maybe more...

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

913,163 - I'm hoping to hit a million soon!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Batman, Superman, Justice League, Star Wars, Marvel

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Take Care of Business Everybody Wants You It Was Always You a sky of honey Anything Like Me

5. Do you respond to comments?

Not anymore :/ I have a really hard time keeping up with writing if I'm responding to comments. I hope my readers understand.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. Probably lonely town? Dick is getting de-fibbed in the alley by Bruce, and it's not clear if he's going to survive or not.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

here as I am is hilarious if you're into jealous!Clark. otherwise the weight (salmon ladder fic) always gets me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yep. Mostly on borderline, but on other fics too. I love how, as I've gotten better at writing, it's changed from "wow this sucks, your writing is awful" to "you suck because you chose to have [character] do this." Luckily I think most of the hate filters over here to Tumblr, where I can happily block and forget. These days, I mostly get people commenting about how I'm wrong about something. Wrong about something I researched and triple checked before posting...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! All of them, I think? At least, I haven't balked at much yet. I'm not really into the excrement related ones, so I think that would be one of my no-go's.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yep! bloodletting (Mandalorian/Star Wars and DC Crossover) and a few Marvel/DC crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep, a few times. What I'm more pissed about is all of my textposts being monetized over on TikTok and IG. I could be making bank off of those, considering the reach. And several of them are basically mini-fics.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Tons. Check them out here. There's also some podfics and related works there.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really. I've made attempts but I'm really bad at it. I tend to write spur of the moment and follow my gut on where the conversation/action goes. Planning out a fic with a partner would do them a disservice, I think.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I really love Superbat, but Codywan is right up there with it. Something about Cody being a loyal BAMF soldier and long-suffering big brother gets me.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

My vampire AU. Not because I don't want to continue but I cannot decipher my notes as to what should happen next.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm very quick, I can type up a full draft in a few hours. I like natural, snappy dialogue and I think I'm good at it. I don't shy away from weird or uncomfortable situations. I'm comfortable with writing a lot of sex/etc.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write too quickly, sometimes I get ahead of my plot. My dialogue and descriptions can sometimes be a little too bare, or I overcorrect and become too flowery. My fics take on the tone of whatever I'm thinking about at that time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If you're confident in your language abilities, go for it. If you're just plugging it into google translate, consider why you're doing that first. Is the addition of this new language actually something someone would say in that moment? Or are we just using it to signal to the audience that they speak another language? Is there a way to show this without telling? That being said, I love using Mando'a in my Star Wars fic, and I've studied it for a while now to be able to do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Probably borderline or a sky of honey. Both took a ton out of me and I'm proud they're whole and standing on their own right now.

---

I'll tag anyone who wants to play! Go wild.

[a-living-canvas]

I love your account so much! I’m constantly checking for updates or new stories. On that note, could you, when you have some time, write a sequal to Carmel Curls? The whumperflies from that story!

I'm glad you like my writings! I hope you enjoy this too! <333

Part 1

Caramel Curls II

"There, done."

Whumper grinned sweetly at Whumpee. He lifted them off from the changing table and put them back in the crib. Whumpee's face was stained with tears of humiliation. They couldn't do much when Whumper put the diaper on them. 

And now they were in a cute blue pyjama, with bear patterns all over it. They peered down, noticing the bump from the diaper on their pants. They felt more mortified when Whumper patted right on that spot, looking down at them with a smirk.

"Comfy now~? Baby~?"

Whumpee gritted their teeth, glaring at Whumper as they felt tears welling up in their eyes again. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Let me go! You creep!"

"Aww…don't be like that. What makes my precious baby upset, hm?"

"YOU!"

Whumper chuckled, he took the teddy bear and placed it on Whumpee's chest. "Mr. Teddy wants to help you cheer up a bit."

Whumpee frowned, looking down at the stupid smile on the teddy's face as Whumper guided their tied hands to wrap around it. Now, I'm hugging it. Good.

"Get this away from my face."

Whumper ignored them, adjusting the pillow around Whumpee to make them feel more comfortable. He pulled back slightly, noticing something off about them. 

"Ah! I forgot about the ribbons…"

"Ribbons?"

Whumper walked across the room and tugged open the drawer as he took the ribbons and returned to Whumpee. He made cute little bows on the rope around Whumpee's wrists and ankles while humming softly.

"My baby looks so adorable like this…"

Whumpee sighed in frustration, "Do you think doing that would make me feel better?"

Whumper raised an eyebrow, "Who said I do that to make you feel better? It's for me."

Whumper put his hand on the bump again and Whumpee tensed up. "Get away from me!" They raised their knees to their chests but then Whumper grabbed their ankles and held it in his grip instead.

"Daddy just wants to check on you. "

Pat Pat Pat

"Hmm…is it full yet?"

Whumpee rolled their eyes. "Obviously, no. Now stop touching me!"

"But you said you need to go to the restroom earlier."

Whumpee looked at Whumper in disbelief. "I won't pee in this."

"Why not?" Whumper grabbed the bag of diapers, examining the label on the packaging. "It said here the tremendous absorption capacity up to half a day or 12 hours. And oh! The waistband prevents the formation of red marks on the baby's skin. Aww! It protects your little bum!"

Someone, please, let me out of here.

"I don't care about that! Are you nuts?!"

"Oh, certainly not, dear. But you, holding back your pee isn't very healthy you know?"

Whumper leaned down, and without a warning, rubbing his thumb in circle across Whumpee's lower belly. Whumpee flinched, feeling the urge to urinate coming back again. 

"Come on, let it flow~" Whumper taunted, chuckling sadistically as he watched Whumpee's face change to a look of despair. They both knew Whumpee needed to release it sooner or later.

"Stop…stop!"

Whumpee closed their eyes tightly, the sensation overwhelming them as Whumper played with their belly button, increasing the stimulation. "Just let it go. You would feel better, you know?"

Whumper kept rubbing their lower stomach and belly button, smiling softly as he watched Whumpee slowly crumble. Their faces were red, and they looked like a baby who suffered from constipation. 

"If you behave, I will let you sleep for a while and then we can get you ice cream."

"...Ice cream…?"

"Mhm."

Whumper smiled in satisfaction as he saw Whumpee stopped struggling. Their muscles loosened up and a look of relief could be seen on their faces. He stood straight up again, crossing his arms as he watched the diaper slowly filling up. 

"Good baby. Finally listening to your daddy, hm?

After changing the diaper again, Whumpee slept peacefully in their cribs. They weren't fighting anymore. They were just so tired. And the image of a strawberry ice cream made them feel excited for some reason. Just like a kid would.

"Shh…sleep my little baby. Daddy will protect you."

Yeah..Whumper would protect them right? They were just his little baby. They were supposed to be in his arms.

And in that moment Whumpee couldn't help but feel so…safe.

~

Part 3

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @htavin87 @heyyitsworld @risk606

[weirdsht]

Depleted - Cheongryeo x VTIC Member! Reader

notes: i promised i'll write fluff but this fic idea came to me as a shower thought and i had to write it before i forget

tags: novel spoilers (you're reading a cheongryeo fic it's expected), a smidge of angst i think, male reader, reader is a member of vtic, can be seen as romantic or platonic

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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“Cheongryeo.”

A quiet voice rang out inside the room making the two men arguing stop. The two had been arguing about making Park Moondae regress. They didn’t raise their voice but the possibility of that person overhearing was still high.

“What is it _____? Is someone looking for me?”

_____, the main rapper and visuals of VTIC. He is also someone who has been a constant member of the group since Cheongryeo’s first timeline.

“Cheongryeo.”

His voice sounded as if they had been carrying the weight of the world. It was so quiet, almost as if he was whispering the name for the wind to carry.

“Shin Jaehyeon. I’m tired.”

This shocked both men. VTIC’s main rapper was known to be someone optimistic. He may not be bright and bubbly like Chaeyul, but they have never seen such a crestfallen expression on his face.

“What is it, hmm? Do you want me to ask them to lessen your activities? I think we can remove some of your solo activities.”

Cheongryeo tries to appease _____. Moondae might even dare say he can hear a twinge of panic from the regressor’s voice. The earlier episode of his reset syndrome seems to evaporate.

“That’s not it…”

_____ looked at the ground. As he did the two other men saw the tears falling from his face. Both Moondae and Cheongryeo don’t know what to do. They don’t even know what’s happening to the rapper.

VTIC’s leader opted to squeeze the rapper’s hand. Encouraging him to say what’s wrong.

“More than a hundred. It’s been more than a hundred times…”

The two system holders have an idea of what _____ is talking about. However, they seem to be in denial.

“Jaehyeon-hyung please stop. I’m tired. I’m tired of regressing after hundreds of times.”

No one can see his face, but they can see the tears continue to fall on the ground.

“Our group this time is good. Sure Bihan got into a scandal but we’re established so we can surely get back from it.”

Amidst the chaos brewing in Cheongryeo’s mind, he could feel _____ squeeze his hand back.

“Hyung I’m tired. I’m tired of always fearing I’ll wake up and be back to where I was before debuting.”

_____ finally lifted his head. As he did everyone could see his red eyes and cheeks marred with tears.

“Shin Jaehyeon-hyung please stop this. Don’t convince Moondae-nim to reset. He even told you he couldn’t.”

The tired and heartbroken expression on the man’s face made both Moondae and Cheongryeo swallow the questions they had. He looks so sick and tired of everything that they couldn’t ask for anything.

How much did you hear?

Why do you regress with Cheongryeo?

Do you have missions too?

How long have you known?

Why haven’t you said anything?

Those were some of the questions on the tip of their tongues. Questions they can’t dare ask right now. Not when the man they have to seek answers from is so vulnerable.

However, Shin Jaehyeon managed to ask one question.

“How long have you been suffering?”

_____ didn’t answer. He only shook his head.

Despite his question not being answered, VTIC’s leader has come to a realization. He may have wanted each regression. Obsessed with it. But it’s different for _____. The poor man was just collateral damage. Cheongryeo is surprised he hasn’t lost his mind yet.

So he decided to stop.

To put an end to this.

_____ was right. Their group this time is good. There’s no need to get hung up on a vocalist getting into a scandal.

Moondae was right. There are a lot of things in this timeline that he will miss. A lot of things he will not be able to recreate even if he regresses.

They were right. It’s fine even if this timeline isn’t perfect. That doesn’t make it any precious.

“I’ll stop. I promise to stop. I’m sorry for dragging you through all that for so long.”

Cheongryeo hugged the one constant in his every regression. The one who doesn’t change no matter what route he decides to take.

“I’ll let you rest. I promise.”

[jenctrl]

best friend anon here (hmm.. ~🦝)

i'm sorry but emotionally constipated pookie- 😭, does she not care/mind that you're not as affectionate? or don't show it as much? Most people would not bother putting in the effort if they got nothing in return

Yunjin is so.. warm, like she exudes that energy and after the part you posted yesterday, we can see Y/N is very much a sucker for it and eventually opens up, I found that really cute and nice

"and I love puzzles 😡" aaa, so cute. I will have to read it again as well, though I did pick up on "Once was enough.", on yesterday's part, maybe..?

and, what has been your favorite part to write, of the black cat series, so far?

these were her answers! i'm a person of small gestures bc they mean a lot to me and i hope that those close to me will be able to see the bigger picture of something small and simple bc there's detail in those things too! im not affectionate with words or physical touch cause im not comfortable with it and it feels awkward, the same with receiving it (unless it comes from pookie then i will suffer through it for her)

yeah, y/n has a hard time with those things and yunjin is patient enough to show that she cares and loves her without overwhelming y/n. Y/n is also someone who craves love and affection but is also repulsed by it since she isn't used to those things :/ whenever she does receive it things like a simple 'i love you' can make her cry bc it feels so good to hear and receive. she's a complicated cutie patootie 🤧😔.

'once was enough' is indeed another clue :D i also updated yn's profile and added her family to it (things from her profile have clues too)!

my favourite part to write to write has been the latest one (Birds of a feather), it just made me a lil sentimental and i love writing angst too which there was a tiny bit of.

[delafiseaseses]

What are your thoughts on Samuel Cooke?

Ooo this is a good question. Samuel Cooke's an interestin' bloke.

As we all know, Cooke is very anti-NCR, its even how he ended up in prison. As Cooke describes it 'I was blowing up supply caravans along the 15 freeway. The NCR got wise to my ambush spots, picked me up and threw me in a cage.' (this makes the fact the geniuses in the NCR Prison system put him in proximity to dynamite ridiculous in a way that proves 'ow incompitent the NCR am).

And Cooke is 100% correct in this statement which serves as his motivation:

"Their "republic" is a joke. They're a bunch of tyrants led by an even greater tyrant, that idiot Kimball. They think they have the right to annex every inch of dirt in the West and force their system on every man, woman, and child."

His revolution at the NCRCF, unfortunately, certainly hasn't helped the people of the Mojave: The Primm Escaped Convicts, the Deathclaws infesting the Quarry, the NCRCF Powder Gang which is just a Raider Gang.

Now, I'm not gonna blame Samuel for this, I don't know which parta the Gangers raided the Quarry, I know Cooke probably did some raiding to survive until he found Vault 19, but most of the shit that's happened is other men's faults, not Cooke's.

In fact, Cooke himself seems overall scornful of Raiders as he describes the Fiends as "Like raiders, but worse - these guys are messed up on every damn chem there is. You can spot them by the horned skulls they wear as hats." and prior to his conviction he presumably was only attackin' NCR Military Supply Caravans.

No credit will be given to Cooke in the default Vault 19 ending, the direction he's heading if y'don't interact wi' Vault 19 "Armed with a wide array of improvised explosives and stolen weapons, the Vault 19 Powder Gang tormented the Mojave Wasteland for years. Citizens of the NCR were favorite targets, and they always suffered the worst fates" in that case he ends up just as much a Raider as Eddie, and the specification that they go after Citizens of the NCR and give them 'the worst fates' that's fucked up. Cooke knows not everyone in the NCR Lands is a willing citizen, but I guess the strain of keepin' the gang t'gether and fed made him lose that awareness in that timeline.

Cooke is needed for the gang to stay together too as the 'Cooke Dead' ending says "With Cooke dead, the Powder Gangers at Vault 19 fell apart. Those who weren't destroyed by the Courier fled into the hills or attempted to work their way back through the Mojave Wasteland. Few survived." so without him it all ends badly for those loyal to him.

The Lem Surrender endin' of Vault 19 isn't particularly relevant, as the guys turn 'emselves in, probably will never be released from prison an' Cooke leaves, never to be heard from again (probably runs out of luck an' dies to a Deathclaw or somethin').

Then we have the Khans endin' for Vault 19, where they join wi' the Khans. Its a sensible tactic, though it doesn't change no matter what else y'do with the Khans (also Lem can be convinced t' do it too, but that's also not important).

Cooke's logic is simple an' understandable "There aren't enough of us here to make a real impact on the NCR, and the Khans probably hate the NCR more than we do. Strength in numbers, they say." this also provides an explanation f'why Cooke ends up just a Raider otherwise. He never thinks to ally himself with Mojave-based factions, but its possible he thinks that they wouldn't accept him and his men due to the Raiders that use the Powder Gang and Escaped Convict names.

So, in the end it says "After the majority of the Vault 19 Powder Gangers joined the Great Khans, the weaker members scattered throughout the Mojave Wasteland. Though a few managed to erase their pasts, most never survived the journey." deeply unfortunate for those weaker members. You could write an interestin' story from the perspective of someone in that situation, actually... hmm, maybe another time.

However, sadly, this means that Cooke's revolution, no matter what, never gets off the ground. The Prison Break actively hurt the Mojave and Cooke's legacy to most who know of him would likely be "Guy behind the NCRCF Outbreak" rather than "Anti-NCR Revolutionary". Samuel Cooke was right, but circumstances beyond him meant his revolution never made it.

Also, he killed Philip Lem for understandable reasons, but I'm not gonna let that slide. He could've let Lem leave like he leaves if y'side wi' Lem. Like "Didn't have a choice. He was confusing the men, and I need to control them or we're just a bunch of disorganized idiots." is not an excuse, Cooke.

[goddesspharo]

#okay but hear me out: BAND AU#what if it's that saved by the bell episode where zack attack breaks up merged with that thing you do?#what if there are TOUR BUS SHENANIGANS?#what if there's an entire timeline where they're recording their future hit album while trying to balance artistic integrity with make outs#there goes rooster off to his room to write that hit song 'alone in my principles'#i do need someone to stop me from doing this#hmm how many WIPs is too many WIPs?#glen powell

I refuse to stop you. You're going to have to find someone else to stop you. The upper WIP limit does not exist!

(Funny enough, my nanowrimo this year was supposed to be an original also involving band shenanigans (not this band thing) that I've had two pages written of for the last...ten years before I immediately stopped working on nano the moment I decided I was going to do it.)

We're at the point of "Sallah, I said NO camels! That's FIVE camels!" with regards to how many WIPs are threatening to be soft launched because of these Glen Powell photo shoots. But if you're going to plant that dude in a rented house on Laurel Canyon in front of a decorative guitar and jukebox and expect me NOT to want the Top Gun: Maverick dummies in a band that breaks up after their meteoric rise up the Billboard Hot 100 charts, then you're OUT OF YOUR MIND and have clearly not watched Almost Famous and That Thing You Do enough times.

Let's be honest: the entire spirit of a TGM band AU would be Hangman being this earnest when finally pressed to drop the hot mess rock and roll front man facade for a second. He has hidden depth (probably!) that no one can access because he's jumping off rooftops like a golden god! Long suffering tour manager Bob is just trying to get these boneheads from city to city without racking up too much on the hotel incidentals bill. Is Natasha the journalist on tour with the band? Is she the band manager booking Rolling Stone cover shoots that they - Jake, mostly - show up to wasted because noon time just means 5 am somewhere else and that's too early to smile on cue? Unclear, but I'm sure there's bail money involved in either scenario. Meanwhile, Rooster just wants to write music that is meaningful ("We've become too commercial," he insists before proposing an experimental jazz interlude), but the label keeps trying to relegate those to B-sides because actually no one wants to listen to a ten minute song about his daddy issues. Everyone makes out.

(Or just watch Almost Famous again because there is no band AU that will go as hard as Cameron Crowe went with that.)

[ravenlking]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 finally, i get my own happily ever after. because the words written on your wrist...is my name

gender-neutral warnings: - spoilers for cater and trey's ceremonial robe vignettes genre: angst + fluff a/n: - the cameos are back!! - pictures don't belong to me, they go to their original owners! - please give me feedback :)

Let me know if you'd like more!

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

"And Cater," Riddle turned to face the jovial senior. The dorm leader was perched atop his throne, a hand gripping the documents while the other was holding onto his scepter of power. "You're free for today. You may be excused."

Nodding, Cater walked away, ignoring the pleading looks of the poor seconds years who stirred Riddle's ire. Although, he had to admit that Riddle was right in punishing them. Honestly, who thought playing golf indoors was a good idea?

Cater Diamond sighs as he throws himself onto his bed. At last, he was free of anything school-related, free of the strange, whimsical rules of Heartlsabyul - here, in his room, he was absolutely free! Smiling, he rolled around until his hand grasped the familiar shape of his phone and began scrolling through Magicam. Bright, colorful pictures from his online friends, followers, and idols assaulted his eyes as he winced, turning down his brightness. He quickly resumed his routine, scrolling, liking, scrolling, liking, until he reached the end of the latest posts.

"Hmm," He wondered aloud,"I wonder what my friends are doing!" He tapped on a friend of his's Magicam account and scrolled through their latest post. Raven King just posted a picture of her wrist and herself at a cafe; the caption reading: "I don't need a soulmate when I have macarons and coffee! :D #soulmate #HappyForeverAlone #FictionalMenOverRealMen"

Cater let out a scoff under his breath. Soulmates, how dare she carelessly dismiss them. At least, she still had a chance of having a soulmate. At least, Raven got her chance of falling in love someday! He couldn't make out the ebony-black writing underneath Magicam's blurred out editing, but he knew that Raven had a soulmate somewhere out there, waiting for her.

Cater threw his phone to the side before looking at his wrists. Although he knew it was hopeless, some part of his soul desperately cried out for the smallest of blessings from some deity above.

Soulmates; someone destined to match with your soul, like two puzzle pieces reuniting to form a beautiful image. Someone who understands you like no other, loves you as if you were a treasure they spent lives searching for, someone who will always be there for you - Cater Diamond has been dreaming of someone like that ever since he heard of such a person. He's been waiting for his own happily ever after - so why didn't the deity above gift it to him?

What has he done to earn their ire? Why does it have to be him who suffers?

From young, Cater has already lost more friends than he could count because of the constant moving. He's lost his source of happiness and joy in his childhood because he knows that sometimes it's best to clam up and not spent hours on a friendship which won't even last a year.

Why does it have to be him who loses his soulmate too?

Everyone on Magicam has theirs already. Not a day goes by without a new couple uniting with their other half or aesthetically-pleasing date pictures being posted with sugary-sweet smiles and so much love in their eyes. Cater couldn't help the hurting pang! in his heart (or was it his soul) whenever he saw them.

"Ahh," Cater laughs depressingly to himself. "I've dived too deep down the rabbit hole of depression again!"

He flung the bedsheets off him before setting aside his phone. Just scrolling through it would only remind him of all the sadness that he wants to avoid. Maybe looking at the sunset would do him good. His view from Heartslabyul wasn't too shabby, in fact, he had a glorious window view of the sunset over the pocket dimension of Heartslabyul from his balcony!

The sun was just setting over the edges of the dimension, painting the sky in streaks of bright orange and coloring the fluffy clouds in pinks. He could faintly make out the shape of the crescent moon that has begun to peak out.

It has been a while since he was able to put away all technology and social media for a peaceful sunset like this. All his filters and editing were nothing compared to the nature-beauty of the natural sunset.

Something quick, the color of pure snow, flashed across the night sky. Cater stood at attention, emerald eyes tracking it. A shooting star, symbolizing new dreams and wishes to be granted. But this early? It hasn't even been seven yet. He had seen so many people post about how their wishes were miraculously granted after wishing upon a star. Maybe he should try? If not, he'll just laugh it off. He had nothing to lose anyways. Cater clasped his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

Please, he prayed. Grant me my soulmate. I don't know what I did to stir your ire, but please forgive me. I promise to love them with all my heart and soul. I promise to make their days nothing but filled with light and joy.

He cracked open an eye. The night sky was barren of the shooting star. Whether it heard him or not doesn't matter. Cater's hands slumped to his sides. It was getting late, he should try sleeping a bit. Maybe it would do his unhealthy brain some good. He turned on his heel and walked back.

"Hehe, Cater sweetheart, don't you know that we save the best for last?"

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Cater Diamond is pleased when the Ceremony ends. He has had a rough time "spawning" copies of himself to paint half the roses in the Rose Garden red. As per the Queen of Heart's rules, to greet newcomers, the roses have to be white and red. Nothing else and the same sentiment was carried out by the fearsome dorm leader of Heartslabyul, Riddle Rosehearts. He was sad that he wasn't able to attend the majority of the Opening Ceremony (seeing the fearful looks on his juniors' face was perfect for future jokes) and playing "Guess the Dorm!" with Trey was always delightful.

He sighed, leaning against one of the multiple hedges grown with much painstaking care from Heartslabyul students. Their efforts were not in vain; Cater could see how the hedge was positively brimming with life.

Finally, peace and quiet. The Unbirthday Party held in honor of the new students from Heartslabyul was delightful as always, but as much as Trey's cooking is delicious, Cater could not stand the sweetness of the tarts. They were aesthetically-beautiful, as expected from the son of a professional baker family, but Cater's poor tongue cried from the sugary sweet taste of each bite. Thankfully, he was able to be excused quickly enough and sought out the Rose Maze for a safe haven.

"Now, let's see," Cater beamed as he took out his phone, quickly tapping on the Magicam app. There was no time to waste! His make-up was perfect, the Rose Maze was a beautiful backdrop, and the sunset was gorgeous! What better moment to take a picture than right now?

As he motioned to take a picture, raising his hand to get the perfect angle, his Ceremonial robes' sleeves slid downwards and Cater's emerald eyes widened drastically. There, written as clear as day, was a name. But not any old name - it was the name of his soulmate.

"No way," He breathed out, shoving his phone into his pocket and reading the name aloud. "Y/N L/N, I've never heard of this name before!"

Pushing off from the hedges, Cater dashed out of the maze. There was no time like the present, he must find his soulmate! He has had enough years of waiting; Y/N L/N, I'll find you soon enough!

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

You felt yourself being glomped from behind, making you stumble forward. You heard the headmaster, Crowley was his name?, let out a shout of surprise before it was masked by the thankful mumbles and squeals from the man hugging you.

"Um, sir?" You gently pried off the hands from around your waist but kept them in yours as you whirled around. You met eyes with a tall senior with bright orange hair, donned in the same strange robes as your own. His emerald eyes were overwhelming with glistening tears as he stared at your wrists.

You followed his line of sight to meet bold ebony-black writing on your arm.

"What on earth?" You gaped at the words on your wrist. As far as you knew, you never got a tattoo! You were sure of it! Why was everything happening so weirdly; first you woke up almost being boiled alive by some strange tanuki and now this-

"Sir, please explain!" You desperately looked at Crowley, who had his jaw dropped and golden eyes widened beneath his mask. "Sir??"

The man in front of you laughed before pulling back his own sleeve to reveal your own name imprinted on his, written in the exact same font. He grinned cheerfully at you and somehow, you got the feeling that this man was going to be the sole owner of your heart, soul, and mind. Something about him felt so warm, so safe, like a little place to go when you feel weak to be re-charge.

"The name's Cater!" He gave you a little peace symbol before popping a kiss on your wrist, where his name was written.

"But you, my little soulmate, may call me Cray-Cray, as in cray-cray about you~"

You laughed as you got swept away by the man's charms.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Somewhere, far away from Night Raven College, a girl with ebony-black hair and violet eyes sighed as she switched off her phone, the last app on it being Magicam. She took a make-up cleanser and wipped away the illegible scribbles on her wrist. Her mission was complete, she should leave now. She had stirred the feelings needed within Cater in order to find you, and the happy couple was on their way now. But once again, Raven had no feelings, no desires to leave. In fact, she desperately wanted to cling to the magic of this world she loved oh so much. Couldn't she stay, just for a longer time? Her wrist-watch beeped as her time here came to a close.

Raven let out a painful sigh before taking one last bite of her macarons and drank the last of her coffee. Sliding the madols underneath her empty coffee cup, Raven took one last look around the happy ambiance of the cafe. Her heart sunk at the prospect of leaving, but her mind won in the end. Raven reluctantly tapped her feet, disappearing in a wave of purple. Similar to a certain dragon fae's magic, the only thing left of Raven was purple butterflies who slowly flew out of the chamber, leaving no trace of the girl.

A short woman with deep green hair came out of the kitchen, pushing an empty trolley. She moved the table where the girl with ebony-black hair once sat and quickly wiped the table clean for the next customers. She smiled as she held up the little note she left behind.

"Thank you for the delicious treats and warm hospitality, Mrs. and Mr. Clover! I hope to return to your bakery soon."

~ R.L.K

[jweekgoji]

I was wondering if you could write another yandere fern X reader? This Time with some kidnapping involved? :3

Yandere! Fern/Reader.

tw: mentions of kidnapping, yandere! Fern, Fern being Fern ig, unhealthy obsession.

a/n: Didn't think someone would still visit my blog, haha. I watched Adventure Time 3 months ago, so I probably forgot some stuff, but I still try to write it, sorry that it took me some time🫡

I mentioned in November that Fern would be one of the few yanderes in Adventure Time who will do something so drastic like kidnapping you if something goes wrong, we already see his attempts

Hmm, I'm afraid to ask what you had to do, to make Fern to do something so drastic like kidnapping you. Of course, you're not Finn, he won't be hostile to you, if you are at least familiar with Finn, Fern would memorize you too (since big part of Fern's memories is Finn's y'know..), so he doesn't really have any reasons to hurt you. I don't even think you have to be someone really important for the hero of Ooo, actually, if you somehow similar to Fern himself, not popular, a little messy and used to stay in the shadow while someone better than you in everything gets all the attention, he will consider you one of his «favourite». He probably won't admit it out loud.

So, what could possibly be the reasons for him to kidnap you? The easy one 1) At first you are not really liked by Fern. You are not exactly a BAD person, not a "BAD guy" either, so he can't kill you, that would be a no-no for him, Jake at least keep an eye on him from time to time. But you might be a little annoying for him, so just putting you out of picture somewhere far away would be easier. And then... maybe he could catch feelings for you after awhile?

2) Something threatening your life and safety and he's just grabbing you without a word from him like «Okay, we're out! Bye! 🏃» , hiding somewhere safe. What threat could that be? Well, Fern can't solve it by himself, neither Finn or Jake with their friends. So the only thing he could do for you in his mind, is just protect you, but in a little different way. I can't really see Fern kidnapping you only because he's jealous. Like, if he's jealous because someone gives you unwanted attention? Okay, THEY are gone next day, not you. No way Fern would stand a minute with some dingus walking around like nothing happened, while you must suffer alone, trapped in the house? No, it's not your fault, it's THEIR fault, so you stay happy and oblivious while your boy takes care of the problem.

Fern is really confused and not experienced how actually he should treat a person he just kidnapped. Your first days in this old, dirty... dungeon just as confusing for you as for him. The moment you woke up, it's cold. He can't sense whether it's cold or hot outside, so the temperature is just the same, can't really say the same about you, since you are probably a shivering stuttering mess right now, hearing how your teeth chattering. You can't remember, how exactly you got here? The only thing on your mind is, what happened to Princess? To Finn? And everyone else? Something really bad happened, but how exactly it ended?

«Oh! You woke up!» , Fern's voice is actually very soothing and calm for your ears, he looks surprised for a moment, before he quickly appears next to you with a big-big smile. He would stare at you for hours, if not for days when you take your time to sleep and rest, enough for you to finally wake up and warm him with your presence.

You probably would ask him dozens of questions, asking where are your friends and what happened, where are you two are and when you can finally go back home, only to be shushed by Fern, and make this tsk-tsk sound, while shaking his head lightly.

«Sorry, but I can let you go right now, you see, I saved you from the danger outside, so let me take care of you until it's safe enough to come out,» saying all that with that a bit too creepy smile. I mean, wouldn't the situation itself be too creepy, being stuck with him, knowing what exactly he did in past?

But maybe you are being wrong and just had a bad first impression, after all, you did know about a big threat coming into Ooo, so there's no point for you to not believe him... So you've been stuck like that for days. Weeks, maybe? It's really hard to tell since there are no windows, and only Fern is allowed to go outside for a while for his unique breakfast routine.

You don't question him, since that's his only source of ,, food ” , and after spending some time alone with him, it is getting hard not to truly trust and grow attached to him. He is the one who actually saved you; he acts surprisingly nice and actually brings you the food you can eat, not just some trash and dirt. That's cute to teach him something new and watching him staring at you with open mouth and such a childish curiosity.

The more time you spend together, the more you learn about how to handle him. And he's learning more about how to take care of all your needs. You realize how insecure he is the moment you started to show little signs of winning in some card game, and he's already on the verge of ripping off his ears, pouting and eventually dropping everything, only to fuss and show his back to you. At first, you thought it was weird, but eventually you got used to it, offering him a hug or tying his hair in different ways, peppered with occasional praise. You'll sometimes notice little flowers growing right under your hand when you say how pretty or cute he is.

Even though most of your time together everything seems nice, you would lie if you didn't exactly think about asking him, if it's finally time to go out of hiding. And when you actually do that, he will just escape this question, quickly trying to catch your attention with something else. It's not like there's too much stuff to do; everything is boring as hell, and you played cards with him like a hundred times. It's not making it easier for you when he just plays dumb around, ignoring unnecessary questions and brushing it off like nothing.

Confront him all you want, yell at him, or accuse him of being a liar, but he wouldn't satisfy your need for answers with anything. He looks at you as if you have a fever and are out of your mind, but more in the way someone treats a naive child who doesn't know much about the world. «Huh? Me? But I'm a 100% hero, I wouldn't do something like that. Heroes never lie, don't you know that? :) »

[galacticgraffiti]

20 Questions!

thanks for the tag @corvod (i dont know why it won't let me tag you help) (I also have to put this under a readmore I am incapable of short answers)

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 20 works right now... so many are unfinished I am hiding my face.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

331,532 (gahdamn)

What fandoms do you write for?

I used to write exclusively Star Wars, but I have somewhat lost motivation for that, at least for now. Currently, I write a lot for BG3 and I'm working on some TLT stuff!

What are your top five fics by kudos?

(1) Veman'alor (Boba Fett x reader) (2) October Thots (various SW characters x reader) (3) Ad'ika (Wrecker x reader - my very first fic!) (4) Big Love Ahead (Halsin x reader) (5) Daddy's Home (Boba Fett x reader)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do my best to respond to comments, especially on AO3 because that's all the interaction with the author that people get, so I try to make them feel appreciated for taking the time. I'm horrible at keeping up with comment-reblogs on tumblr, even if I try very hard. My brain gets overwhelmed sometimes.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm I have a Boba Fett x reader somewhere that I remember being pretty angsty but I can not for the life of me remember where I shoved it. The most current one I have is I Am Nothing (Like You Thought I Was) in which I put all my feelings about Ascendant!Astarion and abusive relationships.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Nearly all of them - I can't make my characters suffer without making them happy in the end apparently. Also I never finish anything lol

Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten a couple of comments that were, if not hateful, still unkind towards me. I block very liberally these days :))) If people don't want to understand that you can simply Not Read what you don't like then they can fuck off.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Not exclusively (anymore), but a lot, yes. A lot of x reader, though I do enjoy writing about my OC(s) as well. Oddly enough, I really like writing about male characters even if I'm a lesbian.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't really. I admire people who have the braincells for it, but I settle in a universe and stay where I feel comfortable.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone once messaged me asking about it, but I never heard anything else so... no?

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I have not! Collaboration is fun but so much work.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I don't really have one. Wait no, that's a lie. It's Gideon Nav and Harrowhark (I would die for them)- and thanks to Leo, it's now also Bloodweave (Gale x Astarion from BG3). I am consumed by them.

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

So many. Way too many. I really wish I could finish them all, so I'm willing it into existence instead of telling myself I won't lol

What are your writing strengths?

I love dialogue very much, I think I'm decently good at dirty talk specifically lol. But what I like the most is worldbuilding in the sense of making an existing world my own.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Typing things out that seem so clear in my head lmaooo

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I love it! I'm a huge language nerd, so I do it whenever possible, it feels more immersive to me that way. I appreciate translations being provided though.

First fandom you wrote for?

I think Star Wars may honestly have been it - I was never really active in a fandom before.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh damn a whammy at the end, huh? That's so hard. It's always the fic I'm currently working on the most, I think- so right now, it has to be Big Love Ahead. It feels so warm and comfortable to me.

This was so fun! I apologise to everyone who has tagged me in games and I haven't done them, I get real overwhelmed sometimes. No pressure tags for some mutuals @purgetrooperfox @certified-anakinfucker @baba-fett @ulchabhangorm @atriursa

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

Trope Grading Game

Thank you for the tags @aristocratic-otter and @artsyunderstudy! I really love hearing what y’all are into and why.

Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?

-10 -> very dissuaded

0 -> don’t care either way

+10 -> very enticed

nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged

Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

So the short answer is 0 for everything because I don’t read tags anymore because they never affected my choice to read a story the way a summary, snippet, rec or author gushing about their work would. But! even choosing with these methods the tropes bleed through so here are my rankings

Age gap: -1

I’m not opposed to it per se, I just don’t see the appeal. I just finished a book with side characters in a relationship with a big age gap and I tried to be open minded but it creeped me out a bit. Although I did write Baz as a 200 year old vampire so I guess there’s that! 😅

Codependency: +5

Yeah, give me two people leaning on each other. I think we suffer in silence too much. I think we need human connection. Gimme two people who aren’t afraid to ask for what they want. Yeah sure, it can be problematic but mostly I think it’s nice.

Obsession/possessiveness, jealousy: +5

I fucking love possessive Simon. Sometimes this trope isn’t done well in other stories but with Snowbaz I eat that shit up.

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): +8

I looooove it. Working past your stereotypes? Becoming more open minded? Seeing someone on a deeper level? Grabby hands

Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: +8

This is the majority of Snowbaz so obviously, yes. Sometimes I’m not a fan outside the fandom, but here it’s so good. And enemies with benefits??? Please. Cue me foaming at the mouth reading Restoration Ecology by @captain-aralias or it’s fabulous remix by @royalasstronaut.

Friends with benefits: +8

Yes please. As long as there’s some deep feelings involved, even if they come later, I’m there. And often with friendship you’ve got the platonic love there that sometimes builds to more so yes. More Than Friends by @fatalfangirl is an EXCELLENT example of this where they are just pining idiots from day 1 and I’m obsessed.

Sex to feelings: +10

FUCK YES. I will take it every time. I love sex, I love a good slow burn, I love sex with feelings. Make them earn it? PLEASE. Someone Wicked does this so well. @artsyunderstudy is the queen of sex with feelings.

Fake dating/relationship: +8

Yup, this is a goodie. even just fake friendship a la RWRB. Lovely. But yeah when their dating and they gotta kiss to sell it? And the other thinks they are faking but really that’s how they feel? Mmm hmm. Yummy.

Friends to lovers: +10

Y’all know this is my thing. I’ve written it several times. They love each other SO MUCH but they are too afraid to ruin their friendship so they feel they can’t make a move. The angst is right there and I love it.

Found family: +1

This can be great, but if that’s the whole premise I might pass. Fluff can be fun but if that’s all there is, I usually pass. But! If this is a theme in a longer fic with more complex plot? Then it can be really good.

Hurt/comfort: +1

Idk why but I associate this tag with shorter fics that just doesn’t actually hit that hard. Like, the hurt is little and immediately followed by the comfort. Give me the BIG angst. Hurt me good before you make it better. I looooove angst with a happy ending. So if that’s what we are doing then give it to me good.

Love triangle: -3

Meh. I always feel bad for the odd one out. I don’t like seeing the pining and angst without the pay out. And usually this is how it goes. If the third person is an asshole you just have to nudge out of the way, then maybe.

Poly, open relationship: -3

I’m actually quite curious about this and I bet it can be done right, but I usually go for a single OTP. Give me your recs though, I’d love to be convinced otherwise.

Mistaken/hidden identity: +10

Hell yes. They didn’t know it was that person all along? And they fell for them anyways? Fantastic. Even better is when they fall for the same person twice. Both hidden and not. And then! All is revealed and it’s the same person! Think love letters from a secret admirer, masquerade, etc. I mean there’s a reason network connectivity problems is the highest kudosed fic in the fandom.

Monsterfucking: +10

And bless this fandom for introducing me to it and going whole hog with our boys and their monster parts.

Pregnancy: -3

Been there, done that, don’t find it sexy. There’s some good mpreg fics in this fandom though so there are exceptions! Orange Juice by @orange-peony is a GREAT one that I really adored. This fandom just really delivers in any area.

Second chance: +9

Yes please! Unless own person is truly awful and doesn’t deserve it, but typically I love someone getting a chance to try and learn from their mistakes and try again. Don’t we all wish we could have a second chance at something?

Slow burn: +10

ITS SO SATISFYING! The payoff is so good after they’ve worked for it. My favorite.

Soulmates: +1

I love when characters can choose each other despite their destiny. I need conflict. I don’t know if I’ve read any Snowbaz ones. I think because I like them at odds and assume they won’t be. @artsyunderstudy is giving me recs to help me see the light LOL.

Who hasn’t done this? Tagging those above who haven’t done it plus a few more, if you’re up for it @whogaveyoupermission @iamamythologicalcreature @facewithoutheart @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @thewholelemon @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @raenestee @valeffelees

[thelordofgifs]

A WILD FINARFIN APPEARS!!!

i really loved this chapter! Lúthien in her Finrod era is everything. And she's making friends 😩😩😩 my poor little baby she is everything to me and Also it looks like she's ready to return to her old maia shenanigans i like it

Morwen beloved i feel you... bright people can be So tiring sometimes

finarfin showed up and i was like HECK YEAH!!! THE MAN THE MYTH THE ULTIMATE POLL LOOSING CURSE BEARER!!! you have my permission to put him in the spinner and make him pathetic though he is very pathetic already. poor guy :(

eärwen is so everything to me!! i love my women angry and sad and bitter thank you

FINDUILAS AND CELEBRIMBOR ARE SO BABY I'M HOLDING THEM GENTLY IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO THEM I'M BURNING THIS PLACE TO THE GROUND

all in all amazing chapter!! fantastic work beloved

p.s. the russingon section is. hmm. i'm not sure i want to know how their dirty talk sounds like- they're so sad and doomed. poor babies. why can't they just have nice things. just make their vassals suffer their shameless flirting over war maps i'm sure that won't end badly at all

p.p.s. "we should move our armies here and here it would make fighting against morgoth much easier" - "omg babe that was so hot" - "i know 😏"

thank you you are the bestest ❤️❤️❤️ writing that Finarfin section like hmmmm… which of my mutuals might this appeal to… a mystery unfortunately…

Anyway yes Lúthien is very much in her Finrod era (“mortals are so cute and they’re all going to die OH NO”) and we love her for it. Writing her and Morwen was very interesting to me – I wanted them to have a difficult relationship without falling into any “women hating each other” clichés, so I’m really glad some people liked that! Lúthien is canonically So Much – incredibly powerful, terrifying to all villains, half the characters in her story fall in love with her at first sight – and I think the flipside of that is that she can be pretty exhausting for someone reserved like Morwen! (I read Morwen as autistic – very much inspired by @outofangband’s wonderful headcanons of course – and Lúthien is unintentionally triggering a lot of Morwen’s sensory issues.)

Eärwen is so fascinating to me because I think canonically she must have found her children’s decision to go on with the march so hard to deal with – and they were even planning to use the stolen ships her people had been killed for, before Fëanor quite literally set fire to that plan! I’ve always thought she would have a hard time reconciling with Finrod when he returned to life (and her other sons, but I think Finrod returned first); his own kin were killed at Alqualondë and yet he eventually made nice with his cousins!

In tfs Finrod’s refusal to come forth from Mandos for Celegorm’s sake is a Significant Plot Point, even if it’s one I don’t give too much attention to. The sacred right of refusal… the idea that you can be given a blessing from the gods themselves and yet choose to throw it away… these are themes that are going to recur. (Partly why in recent parts Fingon has been thinking about Eagles, and what the favour of the Valar means.) But! The flipside of Finrod’s decision is kind of an ugly one. Eärwen has every right to her bitterness! She sees this as Finrod once again choosing his Noldor kin over his Telerin kin, and the betrayal really stings. I will confess that I am not entirely sure how this is all going to pan out, but politics in Aman are going to have Ripples as a result of Finrod’s choice.

As for russingon – look this is my murder warlord OTP and I adore them. I think they’re both drawn to the other’s violent streak, and they do genuinely find military strategy talk very very sexy. Weirdos (affectionate). Whenever I write one of these conversations between them, I have to be sure never to suggest that, for example, Fingon’s hotness distracts Maedhros from the military talk – the military talk is itself hot to Maedhros (and vice versa). I find them so funny and so tragic ok.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

b, j (for alone at the edge of a universe), k, and x!

OOH THANK YOU! Link to the post here if anyone else wants to ask me stuff B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience? Hmm, the only one that is (and only sort of) is Community Gardens, because that's sort of uh, me getting the reader to say to Komaeda what I wish I could say to myself I guess lol. I have self esteem issues, YAHOO!

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

SICK PRANK. i am STILL after all these years working on chapter 2, I swear. But hm, if I wasn't planning a sequel, I would probably have just cut the final line altogether. I will post a little snip from the second chapter as a treat (under the cut at the bottom) K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Oh yeah, this is easy. I thought up this fic idea about a girl who meets Komaeda while he's getting treatment at the hospital, and she was going to take him out on little adventures and they would fall in love but he was going to die at the end. I made myself too sad thinking about it, so I will not write it. free real estate if someone else wants to write it instead lol. It was semi based on the song Firewood by Regina Spektor if you know it X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

OOH FUN! Tbh it isnt real suffering, but I do bully Souda constantly even though I really like him lol. But hm, I don't often write angst or anything like that so I'm wracking my brain a little. I think the real characters I like to make suffer are my fangan OCs lol. can't wait to kill them.

as promised, treat under the cut. There will be a lotta preamble before reader actually meets up with Komaeda again, but I'm giving you a taste of the good stuff

His eyes widen when he sees you fall, and you hear your name leave his lips as he breaks into a run. 

A sob breaks loose from your throat, harsh and loud. Tears stream down your face and you cry so much that it hurts. Lungs burning as you desperately heave breath after breath between your wails.  

He drops to his knees next to you, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders. He even smells right. 

“It’s okay.” He whispers, his voice sounding tight in his throat like he is trying not to cry, “I’m here now, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you, I’m so so sorry.”

Tears race down your cheeks, and you can’t manage a single word through your aching sobs. Instead, you circle your arms around his torso and hold him as tight as you can, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He’s here, he’s home. You have no idea where he went for so long, or why he left without saying goodbye, but right now you don’t have it in you to care. He’s alive, and he’s back. 

“I’ll get you out of here, we can go somewhere safe I promise.” He says shakily. 

Your voice hiccups, but you manage to whisper, “You’re okay…” He laughs. It isn't the same raspy giggles that you are used to, it’s softer, and he sounds relieved. He leans backward, gently holding you by the shoulders so he can look you in the eye, “I am, I’m okay.”

[desultory-novice]

4kids dedede is what anon reads your dialogue with, thoughts??

Hmm. I know there are people out there who feel really strongly about dubbed anime Dedede one way or the other.

As someone who never watched the anime and doesn't really factor it into my Kirby experience all that much, I'm pretty ambivalent about it? (I'm sorry for those who don't like it but have to suffer through it, of course. I've survived a number of adaptations that make me want to pull my hair out myself.)

But if I'm being honest, I do think that, given his anime characterization, the Foghorn Leghorn choice was pretty on the nose. Similar to Meta Knight's blatant "Zorro" dub.

We (?) may love Kirby for its deep and thoughtful lore now but KRBY was essentially a children's comedy loosely based on a series of cuddly platformers that, while not without their twists and turns, were still around the Squeak Squad level in regards to storytelling.

I don't tend to imagine full-blown voices in my head when I write characters, but I do recall my Meta+Dede script that got deleted due to my own clumsiness opens with Dedede looking at a bandaged, banged up, and still trailing a few sparking wires out of ports in his head post-Robobot Meta Knight and saying to him:

"Comets and Corncobs, Meta, you look like hell."

So, I'm guilty of writing him like 4kids Dedede on occasion myself??

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 20 Behind the Scenes

This one is from Primary’s perspective, since Asher is sent to them after the chariots to see if Asher can be a vessel for Primary. Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes (thanks for Asher!), @pen-of-roses, @drabbleitout, @grailfish, @forthesanityofsome, and @pied-piper-of-hamlet!

Primary stared up at the ceiling from their body, not able to do anything, not able to go anywhere. They could vague hear the voices of their seeds, begging them to stop the plan, but they just blocked them all out. They could sleep whenever they wanted. Primary had to stay awake forever, not able to know anything about the world except for when they possessed someone for an hour. They weren’t strong enough to possess someone who had a soul for any longer, and they had to wait years to do it again afterwards.

They knew they weren’t in their right mind anymore, but they didn’t care. They would watch the world burn to even see it.

People were walking closer, and Primary reached out but could barely tell them. Just that there were four people. One of them was shoved closer, and they reached out to them. He had strong defenses, so they needed to talk. You are to be my new vessel? And what makes you a worthy candidate?

He was scared. “No, thank you. I’m not a worthy candidate, sorry.”

They didn’t believe him. Hmm. They pushed a little harder, and well, that was interesting. It seems you don’t have a full soul. It didn’t mean anything though. Does that idiot scientist think that I can even destroy half a soul? I can’t destroy directly what my blood created.

He nodded, but he was pushing back. He was strong. “What do you mean by that?” His voice softened. “And what should I call you, do you have a name?”

It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t screaming in fear. And could actually hear me. The Peacekeepers and scientists couldn’t hear them. My name is Primary. I created everything, and therefore cannot directly destroy anything. But in creating everything, I became too unstable and would have destroyed everything in my death if I hadn’t imprisoned myself and put myself in stasis. But I have been conscious these thousands of years, and I don’t care what price I have to pay to restore my body and live again.

He nodded, trying very hard to look calm. “That must have been hard to bear for all those years.”

It was. They pushed harder against his defenses, and he was getting weaker. You can’t imagine the agony. So be a good little dear and give up your soul for me.

He stiffened. “If you give me time, I, I can try to help you. To let you go without taking me with you!”

I can’t talk to the scientists, and they don’t know how to free me. And would you consciously be okay with destroying the whole world to let me out? No, of course not. So, give up your soul! They pushed hard on his defenses. He felt like he was close to breaking.

“No, but-” He was so close to breaking. “No!” They had gotten through the cracks in his defenses, but he pushed them back. And…they were getting weak. They weren’t strong enough to fight against someone yet.

They started falling back from him. I can’t get…a tight enough grip. They turned their attention to Vani, the failed vessel. I need that girl back…

The boy went limp. “Leave the girl alone, please.” He was gasping for breath. “Wait just a little longer, Primary, I will try to make this right for you.”

He was lying. He would never help them. Never. You’re a liar. I will have the girl despite anything you may try.

He shook his head. “Even if you try, even if you take her again, even if you torment her more, I will not leave you here to suffer. Even if I die next week, I will make sure someone comes for you. You don’t have to believe me, Primary, but I am not a liar.”

They pulled back into the corpse, not hearing anything else. They were so tired, and they couldn’t even sleep.