#ps this is not 300 words

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hi!! i was wondering if you would take requests for first years in twisted. Something like their reaction to them arguing and the reader being like “oh you wanna kiss me so bad” during it. if not it’s perfectly fine!! thank you in advance if you do!

COMMENTS: I had some troubles with this one because I didn't quite understand what you were asking me. 😅 I asked a friend who consumes more romantic content than I do (which is practically none) and she told me about characters who don't know how to express their feelings so they annoy their romantic interest. Which I think would be out of character for everyone but Ace and even him I don't believe he gets to such an irritating point.

But what I understood could be that they were arguing because they were jealous but didn't want to admit it and so MC says something like that. So I went with that one. I hope it's good enough.

I hope you and all enjoy 😉

PS: I would have liked to have written some of Epel's lines in his dialect, but English is not my first language so I didn't know how to do it.

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel & Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.

CONTEXT: He heard a rumor that you were seeing a dorm-mate of his that he doesn't like. He thought you would talk about it with him someday, but you never did. And the final straw was when he heard someone comment that you two had started dating. He goes to Ramshackle Dorm to clarify the matter.

The truth is: you were seeing this guy, yes, but only because he was one of, if not the worst student in the dorm and the Housewarden or Vice Housewarden asked you if you could help him study. And they promised you a reward if you could get him to improve his grades.

That student you started helping with his studies had a crush on you and he was the one who started the rumor that you two started dating.

You hear Ace knocking on your door like he usually does. When he doesn't walk right in without knocking as if this was his second dorm. You open the door and he looks sulky.

“So you weren't going to tell your best friend the news?” he asks you with a smirk.

What news? Did the Headmage give you more work without you knowing? Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to like seeing you `play dumb´. He enters and closes the door behind him. He takes your hand and leads you to the common room.

“Spit it out! What's the thing between you and that dude?” You don't really know who he's talking about until he says his name. You tell him about helping him study. “Study? That excuse is old. Even I already used that one.”

You tell him he can even ask Riddle and Trey, they're the ones who asked you for that favor. But he doesn't seem to believe you.

“Just tell me if you guys are dating or not!”

You sound almost disgusted telling him no, you're not dating that guy. And then you say: “And why are you so angry? Would you like to be the one dating me instead?”

He would have blushed if he hadn't been so caught up in the argument. He smirks at you again. “Well I would be much better than him, that's for sure.”

“Oh yeah? So why don't you prove it?”

“And I can! I could take you on the best date you've ever had!”

“So tomorrow at eight is fine with you?”

“More than fine! You will see! I... wait... WHAT?!” Now yes, he blushed completely. You chuckle. “O-OI! This is foul play!”

“You mean you don't want to go on a date with me then?”

“T-that's not what I meant. But... ha... ha ha HA HA HA... You know what? Well played!

You hear a knock on the door, louder than normal. You open the door and see Deuce catching his breath, as if he had run to your door. You tell him to go inside and get some rest in the common room.

“I need to talk to you.” You say you can talk when he catches his breath and you pull him into the common room.

“That guy you started seeing.” he says, after resting for a moment. He says his name. “Is it true that you two are dating?” You sometimes forget that he is the sincere and straight to the point type.

You tell him no. Of course not. You were just helping him study. Riddle and Trey asked you for this favor.

“Really? You can tell me if you're dating.” he tells you that with a slightly sad expression that he can't hide. You say it's true. That you don't even know why he would think you and that guy were dating.

He explains to you how he heard about that rumor. And as you reveal each other's point of view some dots are connected and you come to the conclusion that it could have been that same guy who started the rumour. And Deuce get pissed!

You calm him down and say that if you tell Riddle, it will be off with that guy’s head for sure. And while you calm him down, you end up holding his hands, that at that moment were fists. But he was still irritated.

“The nerve of that guy! As if you would ever settle for someone like that.”

“Do you think I would be better with you?”

“Of course! You deserve the best anyone can have! Not a jerk like that! I would treat you so much better! I would-” and then he realizes what he was saying. He gets all red and covers his face with his hands.

You hear a firm knock on the door. When you open it, you see Jack in a quite serious posture. “Hi (Y/N). I need to speak with you.” You let him in and the two of you go sit on the couch in the common room.

“What is your relationship with that guy you started seeing?” he says his name. And you say you're just helping him study because Leona asked you to. Something about him being an embarrassment to Savanaclaw and Leona not having the patience to deal with it. That you were better at that sort of thing.

He is silent for a moment. His expression impenetrable, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Pondering something. You ask what's going on and he opens his eyes and looks at you: “Are you two dating?”

What? Of course not! Why was he asking that?

“Tell me the truth! If you are then you made a really bad choice. That guy is one of those unruly punks of our dorm. You shouldn't be with him. That guy don't deserve you. You deserve better. Way better.”

“Better? Like you, perhaps?” you startle him. And he looked like he was blushing.

“I-I didn't... I mean... I like to think that I would be better than him, sure. But...” he rubs the back of his head. And you see his ears are back, like he's scared. Of your reaction maybe?

You hear a knock on the door. You open the door and Epel greets you sulkily. You greet him and ask what's wrong. “You! Something is wrong with you.” is what he answers you. “May I come in?”

You let him in. He closes the door behind him and takes your hand to lead you to the common room with him. “What's your thing with that guy?” You ask who, and he says the name of the student you were helping. You say you're only helping him study because Vil asked you to.

“Oh yeah? What are you helping him study? And why you?” he then says a few phrases in his dialect that you don't understand, but he looks upset. You tell him the truth and ask why he is questioning you.

He first answers you in his dialect and you don't understand, he then goes back to saying it in a way you understand: “Because I know you're dating him!” You look confused and start arguing with him about it not being true. And you can't argue anymore when he goes back to talking in a way you don't understand.

“If you are so pissed off because you wanted to be the one dating me then just admit it!” You yell at him, irritated.

“AND WHAT IF I AM?...” and he shuts up for a second because he realized what he just said. He looks down at the floor, lowers his voice, and clenches his fists at his side. “What if I am... I know I'm not that strong or tall, but it's not fair...”

You calmly place your hands on his face and make him look at you again. It's up to you to reassure him now.

You hear a knock on the door so loud it seems like the person on the other side is going to break it down. And then, in Sebek’s thunderous voice you hear: “HUMAN! YOU MUST OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY AND LET ME IN!” You open the door and see him with his usual angry face staring at you.

“May I came in?” It's kind of funny that he asks permission like that despite how rushed he is. You let him in and he talks to you right there at the entrance. It's up to you to close the door.

“Report me about your relationship with the student you started seeing. Why did these meetings start and what is the status?” You try to hide your laughter by the way he's talking, like you're some secret agent on a mission. “Why are you laughing? This is a matter of the highest importance!” The fact that you don't even know why that questionnaire just makes the scene funnier.

After he tells you the name of the "subject" you tell him, still trying not to laugh, that Lilia asked you if you could help that student with his studies.

“Quite a coherent answer. But there is a logical flaw in his narrative. How could you, a human without magic, help a student from Diasomnia with his studies?”

You might not have magic, but that doesn't mean you don't know good study methods, which is why Lilia asked for your help. Sebek believes in you, but he's still dissatisfied.

“Very well. I won't doubt Lilia-sama's plans. But you still haven't told me what your recurring status with him is.” Recurring status? What was he talking about? “I WANT TO KNOW IF IT'S TRUE THAT THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP!” What? Of course not! Where did he get that idea?

“Then what are the origins of your romance rumor?” What? Well, you don't know how it came about, but it's just that, a rumor and a lie. “Are you completely sure of that?” Of course you are!

If he really likes you, then it's because one of the things he believes you are is a person of integrity. So, he fully believes your word. You see him calm down and ponder for a few seconds.

“In that case...” and then he explodes “SOMEONE IS TRYING TO DEFAME YOUR NAME! Start a rumor about you having such a fool and weak partner. HA! I knew you would recognize your own worth not to settle for such a commoner.”

“So who do you think I should settle for?”

“NOBODY. You shouldn't just settle for anything or anyone. You should get what you deserve. And you certainly deserve much more than that worm.”

“Someone like you, perhaps?”

“Well, honestly, someone like you is even worthy of someone like my liege. But if you deem me worthy, THEN YES! I shall be the one you deserve!” he won't even try to hide it, he's too proud of himself and you.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[ihavethedreamiesx]

First Kisses | NCT Dream

NCT Dream - All Members

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: About 300 for each, so about 2k total

Pairing: NCT Dream x GN!Reader (Separate)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Drabble, Fluff

Summary: Your first kiss with each member of NCT Dream!

Author's Note: I have never wrote drabble-length things before, so I am proud of myself I kept these so short.

I tried to keep these gender-neutral, so let me know if I didn't, but it might still be slightly implied in these the reader is AFAB, I don't think so though…

PS. Mark's and Haechan's are different from the ones for 127…

Revised (1/30/25)

-> NCT 127 <-

-> WayV <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Mark

"You like someone?!" Mark's voice is way too loud, so you shush him harshly, pressing on his shoulder to get him to sit back down. Luckily, the fast-food joint has very few people in it, but it just makes his shout all the more obvious. "Shush!" You sigh, resting your forehead in your hand. "Yes." "Who?" He doesn't sound curious, but it's hard to pinpoint his tone. "Why do you care?" It's him, but you can't just announce it right then. He’s ruined the mood, plus it's not the place for a confession. "Is it Jeno?" "No." "Jaemin?" "No." "Donghyuck?!" He sounds mad and you look around, shushing him again. "No! It's not any of our friends." You hope that your vague answer is enough. "Who is it? What if he doesn't deserve you?!" "It's you, dumbass!" You hoped to be sweeter about the confession, but your voice is laced with irritation. His upset facial expression falls, red slowly deepening on his face and the tips of his ears. Rubbing your temple, you nod apologetically to the older couple nearest your table. "It's me?" "Yes." You brush it off, continuing a normal conversation, changing the subject. He’s only kind of listening; you can see his brain going into overdrive. He finally mentions it again as you leave the place. You’re walking down the street, past an empty playground. His hand grabs yours, spinning you to him. Mark's lips press to yours, soft at first, then he deepens it with a groan. When he pulls back, he smirks then as the tables have turned, your face red. "I like you too."

Renjun

He shoves past people, nearly knocking someone over as he fights through the crowd. He wishes he wasn’t so damn short, weaving through people looking for you. The crowd forms around the bus, the big vehicle lying on its side, windows cracked and broken. The utility truck that smashed into it had then hit a pole, smoke rising out of the front. That’s the bus you’re normally on; he knows it because he’d been waiting for you to get off. The bus was so close to the stop down the road that he saw the accident, then ran to the scene. "Watch it!" Someone snaps as he shoves again, still looking for you. "Renjun?" His heart leaps when he hears you, turning around quickly to see you standing on the edge of the crowd. Your phone is in your hand, and you’re taking one of your ear buds out. "(Y/N)!" He surges forward, shoving one more person so hard they stumble, and before you can ask anything else, his arms are around you. You let out a soft, 'oof', your ear bud falling from your hand onto the pavement, luckily you hold your phone firm. Renjun is breathing harshly, his cheek pressed to the side of your head, and you feel a tear that falls from his eye. "What happened?" You ask, looking at the bus crash. You were going to get on it like usual, but the bus was full, so you decided to walk instead. Renjun pulls back, his hands cupping your cheeks, turning your head to look over you. "Are you okay?" He’s still breathing hard. "Yes? I walked…" You glance back at the accident, but his hands still on your face keep you from looking too well. Renjun sighs hard, and turns you back to look at him, capturing your next words with his lips. You squeak in surprise, then melt into the kiss. It’s desperate, not soft, and quick like you think your first would be. When he finally pulls away, he pulls you back into a hug. Your mind reels from the whirlwind of events, but you hug him back, standing in his embrace so he can revel in the fact you aren't hurt.

Jeno

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Jeno notices your stare. You blink to snap yourself out of it, your eyes flitting away from his lips to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?" you hum coyly, taking a sip of your drink. He scoffs playfully. "You've been ogling me more than usual today." He smirks and you glare insincerely. "I have no idea what you’re going on about." You brush it off and you two continue your meal. Dates between you two are not all that much different than when you two would hang out as friends, but there’s a lot more flirting going on, of course. Casually drinking your iced coffee, you look out the window, pretending to people watch. You’re able to see his reflection in the glass. Jeno huffs amused, but lets it go. As you’re walking down the street, not heading anywhere in particular, his fingers link around yours and you try to keep your face neutral at the little act. When you two are walking past a park, he halts, his hand in yours pulling you to stop as well. Turning to look at him in question, you watch carefully as your eyes flit over his face, lingering on his lips before going to his own. "You really want to kiss me that badly?" He smirks and your face turns red so fast he thinks steam will come off of it. Are you that obvious? "W-what do you…" You swallow and he steps forward, so he is much closer. Glancing around, there is no one in sight, so he leans in, his lips pressing to the corner of your mouth. What a tease he is. You grunt, annoyed, and before he can fully laugh, your arms are around his neck. Jeno allows you to haul him down to your level, your lips sealing over his tightly. Since you’re in public, he pulls back before the kiss can deepen further, his tongue brushing your lower lip still. "Good?" He smirks. "Yes~"

Haechan

When you walk into the living room, you had not expected your roommate to be home, let alone spread like a starfish in the middle of the room. "Hyuck?" You question him and he gives an acknowledging grunt. "What are you doing?" "Contemplating life. Having an existential crisis." His tone is uncharacteristically flat, but it’s clear he’s being overdramatic. "Why?" You stop next to him, and his gaze meets yours, looking up at you like a kicked puppy. "You're going to the beach without me…" He pouts and you roll your eyes. "Hyuck, it’s a family trip. Only family and significant others are going, not friends…" "I'm just a friend?!" He sits up quickly as you leave his side, going to the kitchen. You wonder if he gets a head rush. "You're my roommate, which is friend category." You jump when you turn around, he’s right there. "Freaking- what?!" You furrow your brow along with him. "Can't I be a significant other?" His question further throws you off and you just gape. "W-what?" "Take me as your boyfriend!" "But you're not my boyfriend!" "I am now!" He declares, his hand going to the back of your head, yanking you closer, kissing you to prevent any retort. After getting over the initial shock, you melt into the kiss, and follow after when he pulls back. "Yeah?" His stupid smirk makes you want to smack him. "Fine…come as my boyfriend."

Jaemin

"Guess what?" His tone makes you roll your eyes. He drops his bag on the couch next to you and sneer up at him. "What?" You grimace when he flops down between you and his bag, sitting back confidently, ankle resting on his opposite knee. "I found out that someone likes me." "A lot of people like you, Jaemin. You have a mirror." You huff, going back to your show, but he takes the remote and pauses it again. "I know who." "Yeah?" Your heart skips, nervous he’s figured you out. Hopefully, it’s someone else, literally anyone else. Jaemin leans it, his stupid smirk has evolved into the incredibly sexy one he knows just how to use. "It's you, (Y/N)." He chuckles and you try to keep your face flat, but he sees your skin tinting pink, almost reddening. "W-who told you that?" "You did." "WHAT?!" You wonder what the hell he’s talking about. You haven't been drunk lately… "You read my letter to my mom!?" "I mean… It was just on the table…" "Ass-munch!" You lunge at him, tackling him back on the couch, landing on top of him. You grab the collar of his hoodie, hauling him up to glare at him. Instead of playing along with your fake aggression, he tilts his head, licking your lips. You drop him, he bounces on the cushions, then he grabs your waist, rolling forward so you’re under him. His lips stop your protest, and you immediately melt, letting him kiss you. Jaemin pulls back, still with that stupid smirk. "You dick." You sneer, pulling him back down.

Chenle

After another extremely dramatic sigh from Chenle next to you, you stop typing on your laptop, looking at him. "What now?" "I'm bored." He mumbles and you roll your eyes. "Lele, we are going to be on this plane for another eight and a half hours, figure something out." You go back to typing and he groans again. Luckily, he’s filthy rich and so you both get to fly in the lap of luxury of first class. For the next fifteen minutes, you half-heartedly listen to him complain about this and that, before he stops talking abruptly. Casting him a side glance to see what might have piqued his interest, he digs into his backpack, pulling a red box out. Pepero sticks. "What?" You have a feeling where he’s going with it, your face a bit warm. He says nothing, for once, and tears the box open, pulling a chocolate covered biscuit stick out. He places one end in his mouth, leaning closer, his implication clear. You huff, closing your laptop, relenting. Maybe for once you can call his bluff… Sealing your lips around the other end, you both begin to chew on it, lips getting closer and closer to each other. He still remains strong, so when there’s barely any left between you, you seal the deal. Your lips hit his, the rest of the candy entering your mouth. Though, when you go to pull back, he grunts, hand flying to the back of your head, bringing you back to him, kissing you harder. When he lets you go, he laughs at your red face. You curse him out under your breath, and he laughs harder.

Jisung

You’re starting to ramble, panicking at his reaction. When you let it slip out of your mouth, you hadn't even registered that you confessed. The tone was casual, so much so he almost didn't catch your meaning. You told him that when a classmate asked you for his contact, you told her no. You added that you two are more than friends to get her off the topic. This, however, is NOT true. When he asked why you did that, your reply was simple, "Cause you're mine-" He halted his stride and that made you stop too. That's when you started spewing out words, face hot, stomach flipping. So focused on finding the right explanation, you don't notice Jisung move closer. By the time your eyes meet, his big hands cradle your jaw, and his lips softly meet yours. He swallows your gasp, pressing closer, his nerves quickly fading. Once you’re over the initial shock, you kiss back, your own hands gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt over his ribs. Finally pulling away from each other, you both smile bashfully, but don't step away. Jisung even still has his hands on your jaw, thumb stroking the soft, flushed skin of your cheek. "If I'm yours, does that mean you're mine too?" His shyness grows back at his own words. You blink, then giggle, fingers messing with his hoodie zipper. "I'm yours, Jisung." Your smile grows when he leans back in, lips ghosting over yours when he replies. "Let's be each other's then."

-> NCT 127 <-

-> WayV <-

Master-List

[fluffyprettykitty]

Oh cute idea!!

Layla and Marc Spector x reader (poly) on a date, maybe like a sleepover date or something?

Totally ok if not!

"Sleepover Date"

Pairing: Marc Spector x Layla El Faouly x female reader

Word Count: ~300 words

Author’s Note: we are gonna pretend it's still spring and I did those on time

PS: dividers & banners by @/saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・Marc Spector Masterlist ・❥・Layla El Faouly Masterlist

...

....

.....

It's late, very late for a work night, but you really needed to destress, and that after work always helped. The music was playing softly on the background until Layla turned it up just a little bit. She came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of snacks, carefully balancing it on one hand.

Marc was carrying the mattress from the bedroom to the living room, carefully placing it in the middle so all three of you could fit. He expertly placed the fitted sheet along with three blankets and some pillows, making a joke about how they never seemed to be enough for his girls.

You walk on the mattress and properly plop down with a thumb giggling all the way. Needing the comfort and presence of your loving partners after a long stressful week. Layla places the tray on the couch as Marc comes laying down next to you.

"How should we spend our lovely evening?"

"We had what we do right before you broke the tv!" You said glaring at Marc who had accidentally let the bunny eat the cords. Accident is wrong cause the kept saying 'aw look how cute his little teeth are!'

"Not broken, just need a little... do over"

"We need a new one."

"Exactly do over."

"That's not a do-over."

"Slight reconstruction."

"We need a new one!"

"A cord....we need a new cord..."

"You can't fix it!"

"I know a guy...."

"Marc, you don't know shit. We need a new one!"

"Shut up, both of you."

Layla shook her head before sitting on the couch annoyed with your shared bickering.

"I'm thinking either sharing ghost stories or...." You cut off Marc and shook your head.

"I'm not getting up from the bed, no truth or dare or anything psychical, " you retorted and pulled a blanket over you. Layla laughed as she poured drinks into glasses.

"I'm game for anything honestly. But ghost stories...You know I got the best..." She winked at Marc and he nodded his head.

"Very well, ghost stories it is."

And thus a lovely night soon turned scary.

for updates please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary

[tally-tallyo]

silly drawing of chenya. oh my gosh. I freaking love chenya. CHENYA I love you. 🕯️🕯️more rsa content in twst on 2025..🕯️🕯️ I cannot FREAKING wait to see him in the anime. I love this dumbfuck. My favourite feline of all times. I am happy that he is gonna appear in the anime early since he's in book1. I am gonna put my pfp as him in all socials when I see him in the anime. Hey, do you think I like Che'nya?

ps you don't really have to post this in any of the chapters (unless you want to) because this was just made for fun. Might do more. If anyone asks.. (GRWR COMMUNITY, DROP A SCENE I SHOULD DRAW😈😈)

and also an excuse to draw chenya.. with amongus eyes..

..anyways, happy early new year to you and fans of grwr‼️‼️ hope y'all's 2025 will go well 🤝🤝

guys i’m not sure but i think they might like chenya 🤔

AND AHHHHJDJDJFHSJ *explodes* I LOVE THIS DRAWING SM 😭 chenya looks so cute and silly in your artstyle im gonna shit my pants 🥺 look at him so proud in his shirt 🥺🥺🥺

a might throw this into a new chapter because its honestly a waste for everyone to not see it cause its so cutejsbdjdjdkjs 💕 only if its okay with you ofc !!! *sweats because the next chapter is only at 300 words rn…*

AND YES HAPPY NEW YEARS TO YOU ALL TOO 🙏‼️‼️‼️ thank you for sticking around and being a part of GRWR’s community!!

[twistedchatterbox]

Halloween Collab 2023 - 17/31 ; open !

Why hello there, loyal customer; Today I'm here to announce a collab for everyone's favorite holiday which starts on august and lasts 'till the end of October; spooky season!

Accepting collaborators 22nd-30th of September; This Halloween collab will be an advent that focuses on canon x reader/viewer content; you can join as an author/artist, with a minimum of 300~ words and no upper limit. -if you're interested, take a seat.

Here is how it'll work;

Everyone who participates in this collab will pick a prompt, and post their work on the day corresponding to the prompts number; it is mainly centered around writing, though artwork can be included !

Here are a few other things you should keep in mind v

To join the collab you have to reblog this post + choose a prompt! + You can ask to pick your prompt through replies instead, if you'd like that; as long as you reblog the post afterwards!

Remember to tag me on the post so that I can see it ; All the entries for the advent will be reblogged on @/jade-s-nymph and added to the masterlist !

One prompt per person; each person can only claim one prompt *

No Dead Dove: Don't Eat content !

All entries have a minimum of 300 words but no upper limit ; + Artwork can be entered as long as it is accompanied by writing ! + Your writing can be formatted however you'd like as long as it meets the minimum word count, just have fun with it !

Tag your works properly ! including but not limited to; if there are references to how the reader looks or is described, content warnings, phobia-specific warnings (ex. blood, cramped spaces)

Even though event mainly centers around canon x reader content Original Characters are very welcome to join in; whether it be Fanon x reader / Fanon & reader or just to make a cameo! Take the wheel and see where it leads you. ^^

Prompts that are taken/claimed by someone will be crossed out in text (like this) ; followed by the @ of the author/artist(s) who will post their work(s) on the prompt's day !

First Halloween - @magicluckystars

Sweetness

Tricked (or is it a treat..?)

Pumpkin(s)

Makeup - @cupids-chamber

Secret invitation - @savanaclaw1996

Decor

Love at first fright - @cyn-write

Undead(?)

Fangs - @rendy-a

Bewitched - @cecilebutcher

(Love) potion - @bunnwich

Phantom Thief - @yume-yuurei

Opera - @fungifanart

Knight

Sleeping Beauty - @siren-serenity

Haunted House - @leonistic

Graveyard - @galra-empress-dowager

Hunting - @snappit-the-snek

Full Moon

Siren's Song - @/twistedchatterbox ie.@/Jade-s-nymph

Yokai - @ginruko

Bandages

Angelic

Detective - @fate-muse-club-house

Dress-up (together) - @linawritestwst

Possessed - @darling-in-wonderland

Devilish - @da-birb-writes-sometimes

Cerberus

Red Hood - @juno-of-wonderland

"Once upon a time.." - @whatevermywpis

Ps. if you'd like to collab with someone on a prompt, you can! * ex. Two authors writing a 2-part fic together or writing 2 separate fics that reference each other / An author writing a fic and an artist making an illustration to go along with it. -Just remember to post the entries on the correct day, yeah?

Everyone who joins can tag their work with the tag #Spooky Chattering 2023 .

-Once again, before i finish this post; please Reblog this post so that more people can see and join, even if you don't intend to join in yourself- a collab this size needs a lot of people, after all ^^'' ...

[persnickett]

tagged by @astralpenguin and @kestis-advent (see their posts here and here!) to share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or up to if you have fewer) and tag ten people

thanks for the tag! i haven't written in a bit since tbc but i am finally starting to feel the tingle again so this will be a fun trip down memory lane, and el, it was so cool to see your little reflection about the patterns in your opening lines... let's see what I get. here are the last ten fics i posted to ao3 and their first lines:

The Grift (or: Rasperry Twist) | maze runner | frpypan/brenda, thomas/newt | 3.5k

Brenda set the kettle boiling and then made for the industrial metal shelving in the corner that served them as a pantry, in search of the first aid box.

Weightless | maze runner | gally/minho | 3k

He still runs.

Haven Interiors Inc. | maze runner | gally/minho, sonya/harriet, thomas/newt, brenda/teresa | 4.6k

In the Town of fair New Haven, where we lay our scene, blooms a bustling town square lined with majestic ancestral oak trees and romantic round-globed streetlamps, with a burbling central fountain and rows of iconic wrought iron park benches so quaint they look like they could well be what made New Haven three-time winner of the Quaint Townships of America Award, if that were a thing.

Save the Date | live free or die hard | john/matt | 7k

John hung back. He stopped to settle a shoulder comfortably against the old peeling doorframe, all the better to take in the show. Sure, he’d seen this go down probably about a hundred times by now, but it might never get old, watching Matt go in for the kill.

The Blood Culmination | maze runner | thomas/newt| 250k

Frypan frowned and thumped down the ball of dough he had been kneading.

Wayward - Vol 1. | maze runner x supernatural | sonya/harriet | 0 words (comic)

I guess nobody ever expects their life to end up a headline.

Icebreaker | maze runner | sonya/harriet | 1k

Ugh. Why exactly did I decide to try this again?? 

Pride of the West | maze runner | brenda/teresa, newt/thomas/minho | ? words (magazine article format)

The sprawling, dusty fields and sweeping mountain vistas of Agnes Ranch are just as breathtaking and swooningly romantic in person as they look setting the spectacular cinematographical scenes of The Homestead, this year's hottest cowboy reality series.

Your Feedback is Important to Us (Please Stay on the Line) | live free or die hard | john/matt | 300 words

“Jesus.” It’s less a curse and closer to a prayer than John’s been comfortable with since long forgotten days of schoolboy shorts and knee-socks in rock hard church pews.

Straight Shooter | live free or die hard | john/matt | 3k

Matt breathed. Closed his eyes and visualized the target, firmed up his hold on the imaginary polymer grip between his hands.

huh. looking at these it's honestly a bit surprising, i always thought of myself as someone who liked a good dialogue-as-opener but there's hardly any of that here! (i also thought of myself as more of a m/m and specifically newtmas-focused writer so the variety in here is a surprise - though i probably have the people who made the requests to thank for that <3) Ps. i wonder how many maze runner fics open with some variation on the line 'he runs.' lol

tagging (with zero pressure!): @severina2001 @singt0me @dream0fspring @subjecta5newtella @get-the-medjacks and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it! <3

[treebarktitleswap]

SO BAM. hello there folks we are live with the Title Swap!!! let’s just jump right in—BUT FIRST!! yes it’s called the treebark title swap but honestly it’s just for alliteration. feel free to join and draw/write platonic content only. i even separated the shipping part of the server with a reaction role just so if you don’t like it you don’t have to see it, period.

anyone is welcome here!! info below the cut.

hullo hullo! let’s get this started

what is this?

TITLE SWAP!!! which is a misleading name but hey. alliteration.

basically, people think of titles! it can be anything from a song lyric to something martyn said on stream, or something from your own wonderful mind. they submit these titles to me. i compile the titles into a list.

artists and writers then have time to claim the titles the same way. low stakes non-competitive, but artists and writers can only pick 3 at a time just for their own sake.

artists must draw a sketch, or more if they want to.

writers must write 300 words, or more if they want to.

if they need to drop a prompt at any time or swap it out for a new one, that’s a-okay. like i said. low stakes, non-competitive.

Timeline

2024: completed!

TBA; late April-????

any questions? just hit me with em, i got the inbox open (i think) and you can always message me.

and lastly, to participate in the event as it’s going on, you must join the discord, linked HERE. thank you!!

ps: you do NOT have to participate to join the discord! join if you think you’ll want to create for ONE title over the course of the whole moth. if you can’t, no stress, you can always chill in the background and just be supportive.

(account ran by @thatapolloguy)

[snarky-magpie]

A new chapter of PS. is up and only 2 more to go (+an epilogue)! I'm lowkey (okay maybe not so lowkey) looking forward to be finished with this fic. I'm not cut out for these long-term projects. All of you out there writing those 300+K word fics - mad respect. I could never do that.

Remus: After I got over my hang-ups, your friendship became one of the things I value most in my life. So I assumed Sirius would have more sense in his stupid head than risk losing you over a temper tantrum. 

James: Aw, Remus. 

James: You’re gonna make me cry. 

Remus: Somebody needs to appreciate you, Jamie. You do so much for everyone all the time. It actually works against you. Your goodness is so ever-present that it’s easy to take it for granted.

Remus: That’s what I value about Reg. I don’t think he does. Every time you smile at him, he gets this dopey expression.

Remus: The ‘I can’t believe James Potter likes me’ expression.

James: Does he, really?

Remus: Yup. Don’t tell him I gave away his little secret. He’d probably murder me in my sleep.

James: That’s likely.

James: I love him so much.

Remus: You two are a strangely unhinged couple, but like I said. It fits. Just curb his more bloodthirsty tendencies.

James: Don’t worry. He’s a softie on the inside. He only likes to act tough.

Remus: Won’t bet my life on it, thank you.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

[mollish-art]

Mollish, what kind of five stars dish are you cooking with the chapter?!

Let me get this straight: You have reached the 100 pages mark, and (if you haven't already past it) have written, atleast, 80k words.

For those who are like "that not a lot", let me put this into prespective.

Firstly, "The Great Gatsby" is a novel that has a count of **looks at Google* about 47k words (if you don't want the unrounded number, there are 47.094), as indicated by the source.

Secondly, a 100 pages are A LOT. It's true that depending on style of the font and how big it is, it can affect the canvas. Let's say that Mollish writes with the standard Calibri 12 Word offers when booted up. A single page can hold an small introduction, a text body about 3-4 paragraphs and a conclusion. All that is about 200-300 words. Do you see what I mean?

Finally, if you still haven't seen what I mean, is that those hundred pages and 80k words are NOT different chapters. These. Are. For. A. Singular. Chapter.

In conclusion, Mollish (aka, you, yes you, the one who is reading this) has written more words than a novel, the book itself is more or less as long as a children's book [a 100 pages is about a half an inch (???) ( about 7 milimetres or 1 whole centimetre)], and is doing all of this for a chapter of a fanfic for an AU about a project a creachur that films themselves playing games named "Ranboo" made, just because she feels like it.

We must appreciate the work and time she has putted behind the writting ( AND drawings) for Unperson.

Let me just say "Thank you Mollish for creating the AU and lending it the time and care it needs to grow."

Sorry for writting the Bibel lol, have a nice day!

PS: Watch Chapter 5 be longer than the other four chapters combined xD.

Awww thank you so much for the kind words!! That's very sweet of you :) I really appreciate it! I'm having such a fun time with the story and I'm just really happy that I have the opportunity to share it with you guys! <3

I know I've been saying it for weeks now, but I promise I'm nearly done! Today I finally hit the 100 page mark and have just passed 42,000 words (making the entire fic nearly 100,000 words long!) :D

As there was so much I needed to do with this chapter (you'll see what I mean by that when it releases), I had to make it really long. I doubt chapter 5 will be anywhere near the same length, but of course I can't say for sure until I'm actually writing it lol

I should be finished with writing Chapter 4 in the next few days, and then I pass it on to my beta reader for edit suggestions. While they're reading it, I can use that time to finish working on the cover art and the (many) website updates that will accompany the chapter itself!

The corresponding audiobook chapter won't be out for a while yet as after I release this chapter I need to actually record an entire audiobook for a client (yippee!!), but as soon as that's done I'll get on to dubbing my own work again (and then of course beginning work on Chapter 5)!

Thank you all again so much for your patience and support, especially through this prolongued hiatus. The wait has been a lot longer than I anticipated, but so is the chapter, so hopefully that makes up for it haha

See y'all sooooooon!~

[2000sangel]

- CLOSED !! - A gift to all Adam likers 🪽

Send me some facts about you & I will tell you what you and Adam would do together & how your relationship would be like!

Kinda like Headcanons but more in depth...I'm literally gonna make HCs about you guys in the real...also slightly matchup-y but Adam is Just One Guy (as he literally said) ahah!!

Please include:

★ A rundown of your personality

...and...

★ Your hobbies!

I'll see how many of these I get and how many I manage to do, but I should be able to do everything if you guys don't send me super long descriptions :3 I myself won't go over I'd say 300-400 words so keep it simple!!

(PS-working on the requests in my inbox as well 💛)

[ihavethedreamiesx]

First Kisses | NCT 127

NCT 127 - All Members

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: About 300 for each, so about 2.2k total

Pairing: NCT 127 x GN!Reader (Separate)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Drabble, Fluff

Summary: Your first kiss with each member of NCT 127!

Author's Note: I have never wrote drabble-length things before, so I am proud of myself I kept these so short.

I tried to keep these gender-neutral, so let me know if I didn't, but it might still be slightly implied in these the reader is AFAB, I don't think so though…

PS. Mark's and Haechan's are different from the ones for Dream…

Revised (1/30/25)

-> NCT Dream <-

-> WayV <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Taeyong

You chew lazily on a strand of licorice, chest pressed to the back of the chair Taeyong stole from Doyoung's room. While you’re by no means a noob when it comes to video games, you know little about battle royale shooters. However, Taeyong wants you to watch while he plays. You don't mind; you constantly watch YouTube gamers, but not games like that. Not really caring about what he is doing, you find your gaze drifting to his face. He really is so freaking gorgeous… "Did you see that?" His question snaps you out of your daze, and you quickly look back at the screen. Replying with a vague hum in agreement, the pause menu flashes over his screen. "You okay?" Taeyong turns to you fully, looking over your face. "Y-yeah, why?" "You're really quiet today; you normally comment more." "Oh, yeah, just…thinking." "About what?" His foot rests on the base of your chair, pulling it closer, only the backrest between you two. His concerned look has morphed into something more playful. You lick your lips, trying to think of a lie, not anything about how hot he is. You try not to reel back when he brings his face closer. Why is your friend so- "Thinking about kissing me?" He smirks and your face erupts into a blush. You nearly go cross-eyed when he leans in, "Hm?" You take the chance, closing the distance, softly pressing your lips to his. He smiles against it, kissing you back, deepening it. When you separate, his fond smile floors you. "Been thinking about that awhile."

Johnny

You can feel his eyes on you, but you choose not to acknowledge it. Continuing to chop up the various ingredients for the fried rice you’re preparing, his eyes follow. But he’s not watching what you’re doing; Johnny is staring at your face. Why? You’re not sure. "Everything okay?" you finally ask him. "Yeah, why?" He rests his chin on his palm. "You're staring. Again." "You're just so pretty." Johnny smiles. It isn't his 'I'm sexy and I know it' smile; it’s warm and soft. Like when he sees a puppy; it’s pure. That's what throws you off. To the point that you halt all action, paddle held over the steaming rice in the cooker. "Huh?" "You're beautiful." He has no room to talk. "Is that why you've been staring at me?" "Of course." You balk at his response. Your friend is an amazing flirt, but that isn't what he’s doing. He says it like he’s informing you of something you should already know. "You think I'm beautiful?" You put the rice paddle down. Johnny sighs dramatically, getting up off the stool, coming around the counter to your side. He cups your cheek in his big hand, and before you can question him further, he leans down and kisses you. Johnny swallows your gasp, deepening the kiss. You gape at him when he pulls away. "(Y/N), you're the most beautiful person I have ever seen." He has no room to talk.

Yuta

Your eyes flutter open, trying to recognize where you are. The TV is on, the sequel to the movie you had put on playing. Still trying to form a coherent thought, you hear a soft grumble behind you, an arm wrapping tighter around your middle. This sensation brings a flood of recognition over your mind, realizing you’re in Yuta's living room. You must’ve fallen asleep together on the couch. You startle when you feel him sigh behind you, his warm breath ruffling the hair on the back of your neck. The arm of his you are laying on moves under your head as he brings his hand up. Yuta's hand rests on your forehead, which he uses to pull you back into him more along with the arm around your waist. "It's late, just stay the night here." His voice is rough from sleeping. Are you two dating? Pretty much. But sleeping over? You haven't even kissed yet, still transitioning from friends to something more. "Stay over? We haven't even kissed yet." You huff, letting out a nervous chuckle. Yuta hums in response, then your view of the room spins as he rolls you to face him. You barely get to see his cocky, smug grin before he closes the distance, lips sealing over yours. When Yuta pulls back, you whine in protest, making him chuckle. "There, now you can stay over."

Doyoung

You shuffle out of your room, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. The morning light shines into your room but has no access to your living room, keeping it dark. Your guest is still asleep, wrapped in your spare comforter on your couch. Smiling to yourself, you pad softly toward him, sitting on the floor to get a better view. It was late after you two finished your dinner and movie date, so you let Doyoung stay the night. Ever the gentleman, he insists on the couch. You smile, only his face is visible out of the blanket cocoon. So cute. You feel a bit like a creep, just watching him sleep, but he is just too precious. Gently, you brush some errant hairs from his forehead, looking at every detail of his face. Flinching back when he groans a bit, you hold your breath, worried you have woken him. "(Y/N)?" His voice is quiet, eyes still closed, you don't know if he is still asleep or not. "Yes?" You whisper in reply. When he doesn't respond back, you assume he is still asleep, or has fallen back to sleep. Carefully getting up so you can let him continue, you yelp dramatically when his hand grabs yours, yanking you down onto the couch with him. He sits up as he pulls you down, so you end up in his lap. Doyoung wraps his arms around you, laying his head on your shoulder, cheek on your collarbone. "Morning, precious." You kiss the crown of his head. He pulls back after this, frowning slightly. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he clicks his tongue, kissing you back, but on the lips instead. When he retreats, he flashes a sleepy grin. "Morning, love."

Jaehyun

Slamming the door to your car, you sit back in the seat with a huff, fuming. You thought girls bullying other people over boys stops in high school, yet here you are, in college. You know about Jaehyun's not so little fan-club but have been able to avoid them. But they’ve learned that not only are you two friends, there’s also something more going on as well. God forbid they learn how long it’s been going on. Not wanting to drive while angry, you just sit in your car. You jump when your phone starts to ring through the car speaker when you start it. "Hey." Your voice is obviously strained. "Where are you?" Jaehyun sounds out of breath. "In my car-" "Don't go anywhere." He hangs up. You blink in shock at the call-ended flashing on the screen. Your attention is pulled away by someone knocking on the window. It’s some girl, and two others are behind her, arms crossed. You sigh, rolling the window down just enough. "You're (Y/N)?" You hum and she scoffs. "You need to leave Jaehyun alone-" "And you need to leave." You sigh as he arrives, opening the passenger side door. After he’s seated, you pull out of the parking spot, leaving the girls gaping. Neither of you say anything till you park again at your apartment complex. He takes your hand in his, "I'm sorry." You meet his guilty gaze, then shake your head. "It's not your fault." He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. Instead of replying, he leans over the center console, capturing your lips with his. You smile when he pulls back, "do that again and we'll call it even." So, he does.

Jungwoo

The show playing is one you’ve seen many times before, but since Jungwoo never has, you’re rewatching it with him. Your elbow is rested on the armrest of the couch, cheek resting on your fist. Your other hand strokes Jungwoo's soft hair as he lies on your lap. He’s getting over being sick, but since you’re the one who gave him the cold, you don't mind him being all over you. He’s normally clingy, let alone if he doesn't feel good, like a small child. It’s fine to you though; he’s too cute to not let him get away with just about anything. "(Y/N?)" His soft voice is still a bit nasally. "Yes?" "I'm sorry I ruined our first date…" "What do you mean?" Your hand halts, looking down at him. He rolls over so he is lying on his back, letting him look up at you. "I nearly passed out when we were walking to the restaurant…" He drifts off, fingers coming up to nervously fiddle with your hoodie string. "Jungwoo, you had a fever, it's fine." You huff, shocked that he feels guilty about that. You’re the one that got him sick. "Still… We finally decided to go for it, then…" "Jungwoo-" He continues to ramble, apologizing, and complaining about himself. It is getting on your nerves; there is no reason for him to feel so bad. Wanting him to stop, you lean down, lips briefly pressing to his still moving ones. You sit back up straight, face pink from the act. His is as well, but it already is from the cold he has. You flinch when his hand rests on your cheek, pulling you back down. "I can’t give this cold back to you, right~?"

Mark

"Can I get this?" Mark asks, coming up to you with a frozen cheesecake. You glance at it, not liking that he asks you as if you are his parent. "Sure? Why are you asking?" You shake your head as he puts the dessert in the cart. "J-just making sure." You roll your eyes, continuing down the aisle, glancing at your shopping list to make sure you get everything for the meal you’re going to prepare. Having to buy enough food to feed eight ravenous young men is a little pricey, but everyone agrees to split the cost and send you the money, so it doesn't matter what extra stuff Mark wants. As you traverse the next aisle, you notice his gaze focuses on something on the shelf. He halts in front of it, so you turn to look at it. It is a candy necklace kit. "Let's do this!" He grabs it and you chuckle, nodding for him to put it in the cart. "B-but just us…" He adds and you raise your eyebrow. "Just us?" "Not the others. We can just make them for each other after they leave…" "You want to make me a necklace?" You tease, the tips of his ears turning red, his characteristic laugh leaving his lips. "Yeah… and I don't want you to eat it or take it off!" Mark's determined look goes to your face, and you have a hard time not guffawing. "Okay, Mark." "I'm serious, don't take it off." He reiterates as you get in the car to head back to your place, the box in his hands. "I won't." "Promise?" He holds out his pinky and you shake your head but complete the hand motion. Before you can pull your hand back though, he uses your linked pinkies to haul you closer over the console, gently pressing his lips to yours. You sit back slowly, gaping at him, face equally as red. He raises an eyebrow.

Haechan

"I'm getting tired of this, (Y/N)." Donghyuck huffs at your side, and you tilt your head, confused. When he notices your glance, he sighs, stopping. Holding your linked hands up between you two so they are in front of your face, he sighs again. "This is about as far as we've gone." You look around, wondering what the hell he is going on about; you’re only halfway to his place. "This, (Y/N)." He shakes your hands to draw your attention there. "What do you mean?" "We've only held hands! You've kissed my cheek and that’s about it! I'm tired of it!" If it wasn't for the silly whine of his voice, you would think him genuinely upset. "What are you getting at?" You continue your questions, and he groans; you’re very smart for being so dense. "Kisses! I want you to kiss me!" Donghyuck whines louder, it nearly echoes off the stone walls of the back road you are walking. His frustration takes you aback. "Why do I have to initiate?" You nearly shout, annoyed with his dramatics. He immediately quiets, blinking at you, so very pretty- "Fine!" He yells back and hauls you even closer with your linked hands, his soft lips touching your chapped ones. As soon as he tastes the lip balm you had put on just minutes earlier, he groans and deepens the kiss. You squeak a bit when your back hits the stone wall, trying to match his pace, but he is fervent. When he finally steps back, you are almost panting. He nods with a satisfied look and continues on with your walk like he hasn't just swallowed your tongue.

-> NCT Dream <-

-> WayV <-

Master-List

[readingasoiafachapteraday]

now im not very sure if a world of ice and fire is counted as a part of the original series (prolly not) but i have unfortunately started to read and compile notes from that silly little 300 page infant instead of picking up agot and starting it for the third time (which i am supposed to be 113 chs in its ok I’ll catch up before 364th) and i dont wanna be persecuted but the order in which the information about this universe has been consumed by me is downright filthy if not just illegal by even my own standards.

I watched the show for the first time when i was 18 and before season 6 came out. Naturally the timing and what i know now to be a hyperdependence of the neurospice on dissociative media properties led me to consume everything on the internet about r+l=j and in the following years of nightmarish hell that followed all other 1-3hr yt videos i could find that expound on the lore (except the icebergs). Now, thanks to whatever degenerative brain disease ive surely developed by now, a good solid portion of those postulations and theories are now not recalled by me, other than the some truly sus sussy sussaf things from the lore that have stuck out.

These things, combined with my ability to read/consume jondanysansabriennejaimepodjoryetc fanfiction on our enabling site in very short time spans, like truly short, has also given me a somewhat interesting understand of ff tropes, favoured characters, common dumbassery, etc when it comes to time travel fix its. But but but with my ability to successfully forget a lot of what doesn’t stand out and stay w me for sure, i genuinely attempted to finally write the one that I wanted to read. it has to be cuz ik no one else will be able to write what i have envisioned already in so so much detail. And because only i know what fucked shit i want to read. It has to be me.

Yesterday on the 112th day of starting this false journey, i finally put my hands on that sweet strong thicc & heavy truly sinuous hardback of awoiaf, and actually compiled notes, something that has happened only for 7 dany, 3 bran & 4 jon and ned chapters in the past 3 readings of agot (i don’t count f&b because 1 gyldane is much more biased than Yondel and 2 the notes are filled with more names and much less fact, there’s a lot of intentional informational overload to fuck with the reader which manifests itself as gyldanes spirit live fucking with my notes in the form of excessive use of ‚????????????????‘)

PHEWWWW THAT SAID I’ve taken to editing chapters character wise and I’m happy to report that dany‘s situation, setup and early chapters are FINALLY solved, at least for me, for now (gonna switch jorah & barristan - another reason i have been pushing this, i absolutely ADORE iain glen and his and emilias friendship has been sacred to me and book!j welp nuff said)

If you managed to wade thru that word vomit - and you have no idea what’s going on or even if u do, here’s a link for my totally beginner will probably never finish startup i mean crossover

Ps- can you tell i have been writing too many cover letters

[opreaadriann]

Weekly Update - Apr 20, 2024

Hello everyone! Adrian here, back with another update. As every week until now, we got another 4k words added to chapter 4, getting up to 16k. Most likely next week we’ll surpass chapter 2’s length. This titan is really going to take a while, as I still haven’t finished the homecoming party. I have, however, finished writing our MC’s first ever beer pong game. Trying to come up with something interesting to show you, I’ve decided I will now post some sneak peeks on Tumblr and Discord every week, just for you to see some of the cool things happening in this chapter.

This might be one of the first weeks where I haven’t really touched the first three chapters, since I’ve only just fixed a bug in Burt’s recruitment.

I’ve also made some progress on the second random event, one where some random guy will ask Cecily to the homecoming dance on top of a white horse. It should be very funny. The event is currently around 800 words, and the first one was around 4k, so I’ve still got some ways to go.

The biggest news for this week’s update is that I think I’ve decided to make Vivian and Connor playersexual as well. I’ve realized that the choice to make them stuck for specific sexualities was kinda dumb, since it didn’t really add anything to the story. So, they will both just be very hard ROs for people of the gender they don't think they like. For the beer pong game I’ve just written they have both been in the spotlight, so I hope people will finally notice the two of them for the upcoming chapter.

PS. Thanks for 300 followers! You guys are amazing, let's make High School Revenge great together!

[buggie-hagen]

Sermon on Nativity of Our Lord - Christmas Eve (12/24/24)

Primary Text | Isaiah 9:2-7

------------------------------------------------------------

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. Isaiah prophecies: “For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian” (Isa. 9:4). What does the prophet Isaiah mean by the day of Midian? Midian harkens us back to the days of the judges. In particular, the famed warrior of God named Gideon. Gideon was raised up by God to defend his people. As usual, God saves his people in a way no one expects—in Gideon’s case, as a dog laps water out of his water bowl. Gideon brought his troops to Midian to destroy their oppressors. God stopped Gideon in his tracks. The LORD said, “The troops with you are too many for me to give the Midianites into their hand. Israel will only take the credit away from me, saying, ‘My own hand has delivered me’” (Judg. 7:2). God had Gideon send away anyone who was fearful and trembling. Of Gideon’s troops, 22,0000 returned home, leaving only 10,000. That’s more than half of his men! Next, as Gideon was planning to take out the Midianites, the LORD spoke yet again to Gideon: “The troops are still too many; take them down to the water and I will sift them out for you there…All those who lap the water with their tongues, as a dog laps, you shall put to one side; all those who kneel down to drink, putting their hands to their mouths, you shall put to the other side” (Judg. 7:4, 5). Of the 10,000 in the troops, only 300 lapped water like a dog. Then the LORD said to Gideon, “With the 300 that lapped [like a dog] I will deliver you, and give the Midianites into your hand.” Through Gideon, God sent 300 against the Midianites who numbered as the “sand on the seashore” (Judg. 7:12)…a people who had too many troops to count. And though the Midianites had been their oppressor and had pressed their rods into the backs of God’s people—the LORD delivered them from the Midianites, and they were freed.

This story of Gideon against the Midianites is about what God has done for us in Jesus Christ. Just as God did not allow Gideon and the people of Israel to say, “My own hand has delivered me”—by reducing their numbers from 32,000 to 300 against “an enemy too strong” for them (Ps. 18:17)…so God’s way of saving us does not allow us to say “My own hand has delivered me.” If we were perfectly fine on our own, there’d be no need of God. Christmas tells you that you cannot, in fact, save yourself. You cannot depend on your own power to prepare yourself for the grace of God or accept grace as it is offered…you cannot use your own power completely, halfway, or in the slightest most insignificant way” (FC, SD 2:7). Instead of using your own hand to save you, you must depend on a baby’s hand. You must depend on this baby born on Christmas. God sent his only begotten Son to be born for us. God’s almighty power is manifest in the weakness of a gurgling baby. On Christmas, Jesus, though fully God, took on our flesh and blood—becoming fully human. Both God and a human being at the same time. In the manger, where is found the baby Jesus, we have a God who got cold, a God who needed to be wrapped in blankets. In the baby Jesus, we have a God who needed to be breastfed by his mother. Just as many babies do, he found it difficult to latch on to his mother to get milk—which would be painful for Mary. It will not be the last time Mary experienced pain for Jesus—as she would one day watch her son die on a cross. To save us, God became a baby in Jesus the Christ. Like all of us have done when we were babies: God burped. God pooped his pants. He spit up. He cried for his mother. Sin, death, and devil—each are enemies too strong for us to fight even as full-grown adults. But in this weak little word-made-flesh, God-in-a-baby, who experienced pain and misery and had placed on him the deep darkness of sin—by God’s infant hand, God has overcome the enemies too strong for us. The Christmas gospel says Jesus was born for you. For you, the child was born. For you, a Son was given. And because the little Christ child was born—the yoke of your burden, the rod of your oppressor, the bar across your shoulders—has been broken. As on the day of Midian. (pause) Dear people of God, Merry Christmas.

[wutheredviolet]

M!A: 50 Dawns of Red appear at your location. They will stay at least within 300 meters of you, and teleport back if they leave that radius.

They will attempt to sabotage all electronic devices they see, either draining their power, or, if the device is capable of autonomous movement, turn them hostile against humans.

This shall last for 1 week, or until all of the ordeals are dead, after which, you will receive one random black damage resistant Lobotomy E.G.O suit, and 5000 ahns as compensation for damages.

PS: The fanfare is still going to play.

50 Dawns of red? I do want to void this but, the rewards could prove useful. Fuck it, I accept this, might be famous last words but I don't care. Not dealing with it for a week though so i'll probably attempt to kill all the ordeals. I'll make a post if I succeed.