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tillthelandslide · 4 years

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Made to Love

Author's Note: Hello to all of you beautiful and wonderful people. I hope your day is going well. After having a whole day of writer's block, I listened to Made to Love by John Legend and this wonderful idea came into my head so I wrote it down. I hope you liked this and I'm thinking maybe I could do a part 2 if you guys like it?

This is set in a utopian world, not ours just so you know.

Tag List: @harrysthiccthighss @thereisa8ella @magdelen69 @henrythickcavill @hc-geralt-23 @kissthatlifeaway @darkbooksarwin @august-w-princess @speakerforthedead0 @pixie1484 @constip8merm8 @tigerbroadwaybaby @agniavateira @summersong69 @aestheticallywinchester @stephartrave @al-wiisa @henrycavillfanpage @intenselikes @anat2507 @ellixthea @aguspalazzo @1ookatthestars00 @wintersoldierslut @michelehansel @cavill-sass @thecavillstache @xelizabethvalentinex @sesamepancakes @tumblenewby @thefangirlsblog @sugermelonwater

(if you would like to be added to my tag list, feel free to message me, if you are new to my blog then I post Henry Cavill fanfics and make Henry Cavill fake Instagram posts, my requests are open so feel free to request anything and I will try my best to make your vision come to life. Edit: requests are still open but there might be a delay as I am working my way through the current ones and all other stories I am writing)

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Growing up you were taught the laws of the world you lived in. You were taught that every person around you had different morals and different beliefs. But one thing everyone agreed on was the existence of soul mates, two people linked by destiny, made for each other, two people bound my fate to be together until death do they part. You were taught that you could tell who your soulmate is purely but the feeling you got. You were told that your soul mates aura would match yours and the closer you were to each other the deeper you would feel, the more intense your feelings would be, as if amplified by the other person. You were also taught that as you grew up you would get visions of your soul mate. You wouldn't see what they looked like or where they lived but would see visions of what they were like, what they did in their spare time. You knew yours was an actor (although how famous you didn't know), you knew he enjoyed video games just as much as you did, he grew up reading fantasy books just like you, you could feel that family was important to him, he had brothers but you weren't sure how many. You could also feel each other's emotions when you were apart, a constant reminder from destiny that you had to find each other to live in peace, to live in paradise with each other. The piece of information that made it difficult in finding him was that he was an actor, he was always travelling and was always filming. This made finding him difficult because you were a singer, a famous one at that, you were constantly on the road, never in the same place for more than a couple of days at a time.

But you were currently on a break from your life on the road, you had told your fans that you were going to take a hiatus and lots of them encouraged you to find your soul mate, because they wanted you to be happy.

One of the fundamental laws of soul mates was the push and pull dynamic, the more someone would push their soulmate away. the more they would find themselves needing that person. There were people who ignored these laws, and lived their lives running from destiny. Soulmates who were yet to find each other were allowed to carry out temporary relationships with non-soul mate individuals, named "betas" but were forbidden to marry them or reproduce with them. Again there were those who hated these laws, those who married non-soulmates to spite destiny.

As for you, you had a few relationships with betas, but they never satisfied that of your deepest desire. It was fun getting to know betas and you found yourself loving them, but not in the way that soulmates would love each other. Eventually the relationship between betas would come to an end when the other found their soulmate. But you were yet to find yours so all of your beta relationships had ended because they had been successful in carrying out the law.

So here you were, alone in your house in London, what was the point of a break if I can't even find my soulmate? you thought. You were beginning to lose hope, maybe you had done something to spite destiny and this was its way of punishing you.

You had begun to feel ill, your mother bringing you some soup in hopes you would feel better. Your mother was one of few individuals, who destiny had granted multiple soul mates, this only happened to people whose original soul mate had passed, destiny would grant them another if they had successfully carried out the law of soul mates in all its glory. And your mother had, she had found her soulmate when she was 21 and had gotten married soon after, having 4 beautiful children (you included) before sadly her soul mate (your father) and passed. Destiny had decided that she carried out the law so well that she deserved another one.

To say it irked you was an understatement, you were happy for her, sure, but there she was having had 2 soul mates and you were yet to find yours.

"He's on he's way dear" she said, as she was leaving your home.

"I don't know ma" you frowned, rubbing your forehead I wish this throbbing in my head would stop for christ sake you thought.

"He is, my love. Now rest and get better, I have to meet Derek for lunch" she said referring to your step farther.

"Have a lovely day ma" you said, making her smile and leave you.

Your head throbbed again, making you have to close your eyes as you felt like you were going to faint.

"What in the world?" you said, your hand coming up to rest against the wall to stop yourself from falling.

Sit down love you heard his voice in your head say. Oh yeah, another side effect of not finding your soulmate was having this kind of connection with them, they could communicate with you, through your mind. It sounds ridiculous but it's true, it takes practice to successfully send a message to your soul mate, apparently it becomes painstakingly easy when you've actually met them.

"You're not helping me" you chuckled out, crashing on your sofa.

You need to rest, your making me feel nauseous his voice said again

"Oh thanks love. Sorry to be such a pain" you said, sarcastically.

Sorry love you heard him chuckle

"It would be a lot easier if you were here dickhead" you laughed, joking with him, your eyes still shut. An image flashed in your mind... A lot of green, that's all you could see for miles.

"What are you doing?" you laughed, talking about the vision you got.

Walking Kal

"all I can see is green, like for miles?" you asked, and you heard him chuckle. He didn't say anything else and you sighed, resting your head against your sofa.

Wish I could help you. He sounded sad and he felt sad too, you could physically feel him frowning, but you knew it felt worse for him, that's how it worked. You were feeling dizzy, which meant he was feeling it a little too.

"Would be so much easier if I knew where you were." you said, your cat jumping up to sit on you.

Y'know how it works love, can't tell you that

He was right, another stupid rule was that if one soulmate attempted to send a message containing information about where they were or where they lived, the information would be corrupted, all the other would hear is muffled speech.

"I'll leave you to it then my love" you said quietly.

Okay love, rest well. Get someone to come round and look after you

"I'll try." you said. You managed to open your eyes, the world spinning a lot less now, the same throbbing in your head like someone was constantly playing a drum in there. You picked up your phone texting your best friend.

"Hey. Not well. Please come save me 😂" you typed, short sentences will have to do you thought.

"coming" was all you received back. Your friend arrived 10 minutes later, as she lived close by. She let herself in calling your name, to which you just groaned.

"Oh c'mon you big baby, it can't be that bad" she said upon seeing you.

"That's easy for you to say. You don't have what feels like someone kicking your head in every 2 seconds" you said, groaning when she tried pulling you up from your seat.

"We're going for a walk, the fresh air will do you good." she said, forcing your shoes on your feet.

"Really? I'm not well" you pouted.

"C'mon you need air" she said, pulling you up and to the door.

You began walking, every few steps you had to stop and shut your eyes, your vision became blurry and your head pounded and pounded with every step. You could see green again, a park?

"Hey it's okay, I've got you I'm here, Cmon sit down" she said, leading you to a bench.

Another vision: a bench?

Another one: two women?

Another one: a dog jumping excitedly

What was that?: An American Akita?

"This isn't working" you groaned loudly, your vision coming back to you, you looked around you, you were in a park, surrounded by green.

"Oh my god" you said, your head pounding, like a drum getting louder. You stood suddenly, your feet hurt but they carried you forward, you didn’t want to be walking but your body had other plans, your legs hurt... Everything hurt.

What's happening? You heard him say

You were falling, falling, your head throbbing more than ever, just as you were about to hit the ground, you felt something soft... Hands? You opened your eyes briefly, two blue eyes, the left had a bit of brown in it

And then? Nothing.

The next thing you know, you were lying on the pavement, your head no longer hurt... That's good you thought. You opened your eyes, seeing the same blue eyes, your heart felt like it exploded, your back shooting up from the ground on its own accord, turning to look at the man.

"Oh my god" you cried, he was here, you found him.

"Told you to rest, love" he said, somehow making a joke out of it, but he had tears in his eyes too. You wrapped your arms around him, him pulling you to his chest.

"It's okay I've got you love, I've got you" he said, hugging you like he was never going to let go.

"You found me" you said, pulling back to look into his eyes.

"I found you alright" he said, nodding as tears fell from his eyes.

"Henry" you said, suddenly knowing his name as if you'd always known it, you knew everything there was to know about him, and he you.

"Y/N" he uttered, his hand grasping your face tightly in his hand, bringing it closer to his so he could finally kiss you. His lips were perfect against yours, it was everything everyone told you it would be, nothing but heightened emotions, destiny and fate.

"I love you so much" he uttered against your lips.

"I love you too" you replied, pulling back from the kiss.

"How's the head?" he said, his fingers rubbing at your temple.

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ghost-writing · 4 years

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The Monster 2/?? - August Walker fanfic

This is a re-post from my other blog... I’ve decided to post my writing on a separate page, it’ll be easier to access like that.

I’ve edited this a little, but there might still be some spelling mistakes & grammatical errors. (English is not my 1st language!) So, if you see something that irks you, please tell me! :)

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PART TWO - Breaking

Word count: 3.2k (The bit below the 2nd gif was labeled “part 2.2″, and titled “Interlude at the office”, but it’s quite short, so I decided to not make it separate anymore.)

Warnings: Sex (unprotected), rough sex, a certain dose of violence (including light choking), SMUT, swearing and bad language. And August Walker. (The Kingstache deserves its own warning.) And it’s probably full of typos and redundancies.

Part one can be found here!

He texted her around midnight. He had tried to not give in, resisted for almost a week, but he needed to let some steam off tonight. And he thought he liked her, which was angering him even more. She was a good investigator: smart, could think outside the box, and did not take shit from anyone, not even him. He used to like that about Sloane: she commanded respect. She did not deserve it, though. He did not know yet if Annie Franken did, he had not scratched under the surface enough. But after the month he had spent here in Brussels, he could say that he almost enjoyed working with her. At the very least, she made this dull case more acceptable. He had been offended when Sloane had given him the assignment. He felt it was an insult to his previous accomplishments. And the case would last months. At least, he’d get to travel around Europe. And since that night, he thought she was another perk.

Less than five minutes into his first meeting with the captain, he had requested to see the whole team’s files. He wanted to know exactly who he was working with, especially as it was his first time working with the Nexus. The man in charge had refused, but he went higher to get them, and he got them. Detective Franken’s dossier was heavier than the others, almost as thick as the captain’s. Apart from the chief, she had been there longer than everyone on that team, which was why she was in charge, and his direct liaison officer.

She had been in a little more trouble than the others, too. Nothing important: some insubordination (from what the redacted report seemed to say, she had been right, and her senior officer got fired shortly afterwards), and a one-time misconduct while handling a criminal in her care (he was lucky to still be alive, but he had it coming). He smiled thinking about the pics of Denizio, the “victim”: covered in bruises and scratches, a couple of deep bites, a dislocated shoulder, and multiple fractures (nose in two places, left side of his face smashed in, seven ribs, and right ankle). He was impressed: she was a fighter, and a nasty one. He had searched for the video of the incident, but had not got to it yet. He didn’t doubt that the evidence had been deliberately lost, to avoid her too much trouble.

The file also contained a lot of praise: from her former chief in the federal police, and her current one. Thinking back of his first meeting with the man, all these compliments, the twinkle in his eyes: the captain admired her, maybe even had a crush on her. August understood the appeal: good at her job, and a nice rack. Maybe too virtuous, at first sight, but he could smell that there was something hidden under the surface of that porcelain skin. Something wicked. He could see it as clearly as his own darkness.

So he stole her psych evaluations, and got disappointed when he read them. All pristine. Not in an obvious, “I’ll tell them what they need to ear” way. She admitted some problems, discomfort, insomnia, anxiety even. But she had a degree in psychology and criminology: she could’ve been faking it. He listened to the tapes: she sounded genuine. Articulate, but still confused by her feelings and reactions at times. Not the reactions of a control freak, just someone genuinely trying to understand herself, and better herself. He particularly disliked the way she was bouncing ideas off the shrink, as if he had been a wall to play against. No, actually, it’s the guy he hated. He either talked too much, or didn’t ask the right questions, the ones he would’ve asked her. And she seemed to like that bespectacled poster boy of blandness. He thought for a moment that they had fucked in his office, but after a really quick check, he found out the man was a closeted gay.

And so, an hour ago, he parked his car in front of her building, trying to calm down after Sloane’s phone call, a fire burning low inside him. He texted: “Are you at your place? Can be there in 10.” He knew she was in: shortly after his arrival, she got out on the balcony, sipping a drink, looking at the horizon, stretching her limbs, trying to unwind after a long day. The answer he got ignited something else in him. “Sure.” Not yes: sure. Sure, you can come over and fuck me. Sure, I’m waiting for you, CIA. Sure. He was panting, raging. He tried to steady his breathing, which took some time. He gripped the wheel tight, his knuckles turning white. Concentrating on the air filling his lungs, then escaping, slowly. Better. Blank face, blank mind, the August Walker way. Never give too much, to anyone. So tonight, he was going to take. And he made himself a promise.“If she has changed from that black t-shirt and sweatpants from earlier, I’ll take everything I want.” He too needed to unwind.

He got out of the car, slowly making his way to the 3rd floor apartment, still breathing in patterns, not to snap too quickly with the pretty doll upstairs. He knocked, looking at the floor. Seconds stretched, and she finally opened the door. She was barefoot, naked legs, dark red satin starting a few inches above her knees. A short kimono, belt knotted tightly around her waist, modestly covering her ample breasts. Sexy, not slutty. He felt his cock twitch. She still sported the same ponytail she had earlier, but she looked younger than at work. Probably the absence of the constantly furrowed brow, which was a common look in those offices, anywhere around the world.

Pushing past her, he entered without a hello. He heard her protest: “I did not invite you in!”, and made his way into the living room.

“I am not a vampire, I don’t need your invitation.” Thinking to himself “What you are wearing is one, anyway.” He heard the door close.

“Yeah, you give more of a werewolf vibe, actually…” His cock twitched again. He turned to face her, menacingly backing her against the wall. “Doll, you have NO IDEA”, he thought.

He towered over her, a nasty look on his face. He was so close she could probably feel the warmth of his chest, though they were not touching yet.

“Don’t you like a wild beast?” He breathed her scent deeply. “Damn, you smell nice, doll!”

“Do I look like a poodle lady?”, she jested.

And all hell broke lose inside of him: he slammed his body into hers, pinning her against the wall, making her gasp from the physical shock. He grabbed her wrist in his left hand, and opened the kimono with the right: she was wearing a dark red satin balconnet bra that barely covered her breasts. He grabbed her ass: a thong. All assorted to the robe. “Something for guests.”

She was pushing her hips towards him: he growled, less than an inch from her mouth now, but instead of kissing her like she wanted him to, he bit her throat and sucked viciously. She yelped : the thought that this man could hurt her, or break her in two with ease, crossed her mind, but she was still aroused. And she could feel that he was too. She could feel his heart beating in his chest. The thought of August Walker having a heart made her chuckle, and he growled some more as a response to her silent joke. She ran her free hand in his hair and, wanting to kiss him, she grabbed him to make him move towards her face. But he snatched her wrist, brought both her arms above her head and held them secure in his gigantic left paw, still nibbling on her throat. He unbuckled his pants with his right hand, undid the zipper, moving away from her just enough to look at her heaving chest, moving up and down rapidly with desire. Her nipples were peaking out of the satin, now, hard as rocks.

He brutally yanked her thong, and she felt the elastic band clap on her hip. She almost told him that those cost a lot of money, but decided it was wisest to just go with the flow, right now. She got distracted almost immediately anyway: he took his cock out and penetrated her without holding back. As she was dripping with anticipation (she had been since receiving the text, to be honest, running to the bedroom to change out of her comfortable sweats, into something more appropriate for a booty call), he slid his entire length inside her with ease, up to the hilt, and stayed still for a few seconds, looking hungrily at her round tits, biting his lips at the sight of her exposed nipples. He let go of her wrists, leaving them tingling with the sensation of blood circulating again in her veins, and pushed the satin robe off her shoulders and arms. She let it slide off her, feeling it brushing the back of her legs as it fell to the floor.

Suddenly, he pushed the vase and the decorative bowl that were placed on the sideboard next to them, sending them crashing down, and lifted her with his other arm to sit her on the wooden piece of furniture, still inside her. He then planted both his hands on the wall, on each side of her head, framing her, leaning in, his forehead touching hers, pushing her shoulders closer against the cold surface, and he started moving his hips, back and forth, between her thighs, wide open for him, increasing the speed every few thrusts. She moaned louder, and tried to grab his shirt to open it.

“Don’t.”

That one syllable made her blood freeze, and she took her hands off him, grabbing the edge of the sideboard outside of her legs instead. He was grunting like an animal, a huge bear completely enveloping her with his frame. She had always liked big guys, she liked feeling small in their arms and under them. She didn’t need a man to protect her; it was more about being shielded from the outside world for a moment, forgetting everything but the man fucking her senseless. And this large grizzly was very good at that, even if he was rough. She liked rough. She preferred a bit of pain than feel nothing at all.

But the bear man was inflicting more than a little pain, now. His eyes were still fixed on her breasts, dark with rage, his thrusts becoming violent. His lips occasionally sucked at her nipples, more often his teeth bit into them, but he was mostly looking at her breathing in and out, slightly smiling when she’d whimper in protest. And as she started to cry a bit louder, a visible grin was adorning his face.

He stopped pumping into her, grabbed her with one arm around her waist, carrying her next to the couch. There, he pulled her off his cock, savoring her gasp, and put her down. Her legs were slightly shaking, but she did not try to hold onto him for balance. She had understood that he was in a foul mood, and did not want to be touched. “Good girl.” But he was still raging, not feeling like calming down, and she would pay the price for it, even if she behaved. But he was sure that she could take it. If she had wanted him to stop, she would’ve fought back, and he’d be in a similar state as that “poor” Denizio guy.

So, instead of feeling sorry for her, he turned her around, bent her over, and parted her legs with his hands, guiding her ankles with a feet. He slapped her ass once, twice, three times. She let a scream escape only with the first blow. He pushed her forward, so that she ended up kneeling on the sofa. But instead of letting her upper chest rest on the back of it, he grabbed the base of her ponytail in his left fist, and yanked, silently ordering her to look at him. And as soon as her eyes met his, he slid his cock back into her, making her moan loudly. He saw fire behind her pupils: she was enjoying this. Thus, he fucked her, hard and fast, into oblivion. And her cries of rapture grew louder and more desperate. He let go of her hair, seizing her elbows instead, pulling her to him, allowing him to go even faster. She came, but it still wasn’t enough for him, so he let go of her arms, and shoved her face in the seat, pushing her back with both hands. She was screaming now, her petite body jerking with each thrust. He slapped her ass some more, leaving big red marks on her pale, soft flesh, and vigorously took hold of her waist, knowing perfectly well he’d leave bruises, feeling pride at the thought.

She felt him withdrawing, turning her around to face him. She was a rag doll in his hands, unable to think for herself. Not once had she fought him, asked him to stop. She thoroughly loved being used by him. He could take whatever he wanted, right now. And he did: he bottomed out into her, making her howl, a throaty wail after her prior screaming, and pinned her down with his hips. His right hand lifted her leg up, allowing him deeper access into her cunt, and his left hand caught her throat. The surprise of his touch made her climax, her whole body shaking, her eyes rolling in her head, her back arching, her walls clenching on him. Thereby, he huffed and puffed as his own orgasm built, and swore profusely as he pulled out of her to come all over her belly and her breasts.

Both out of breath, they looked at each other, panting, completely spent. She saw a light in his eyes, hoped he would just collapse on top of her, and finally kiss her, but in an instant, his expression changed. He got up, tucking himself back in his pants, rearranging his clothes, smoothing his messy hair. And without one last look at her, he got out, his words slapping her face.

“See you at work tomorrow, Franken.”

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The day had been long, just like the rest of the week. She still couldn’t sit down without wincing. She couldn’t sit down at all the first day. And she had to wear a fucking turtleneck to hide the bite marks and the hickeys he had adorned her neck with. Her whole body was covered in bruises, purple finger prints on her wrists and forearms, on her hips, on her ass. She was raging inside, and he was there, working like absolutely nothing happened.

He did not avoid her, they still exchanged about the investigation, they had prepared a necessary trip to London. But it felt different than the week before, the week after that first night. Before, she had noticed his gaze, a furtive smile; once, he even had asked her if she wanted tea. But now, he was distant. Or maybe she simply wanted him to be closer.

She was angry about all the marks left on her, and she definitely would’ve preferred to be able to sit normally, but it was the way he left that hurt the most, and how he acted now. She wasn’t a fuck toy to discard after use. She didn’t want a relationship, she just wanted him to acknowledge her existence in a decent way. Say hello, and kiss her before, during and after making her climax like she hadn’t in a long, long time. She could’ve been nice to him too, reciprocate. Because whatever August Walker tried to pretend he was, deep down, he was human too. Probably. Or maybe he was just a psycho.

She could see some signs: the manipulation, the violence. She wasn’t sure about the lack of remorse or guilt. She felt he was wearing a mask, not just covering up a mistake. Doing what was expected of a cold, calculated man. But she had seen glimpses of humanity in him. He had grabbed a fantasy book left by Simon on his desk, and had smiled as if remembering the first time he had read it. She heard him hum to a song played on the radio while on a stakeout, thinking she was asleep. Not a robot, just a character he was projecting, for protection most probably. She could relate: she had tried that, but could never maintain it for too long. She still joked, she still cared. And she needed to come out for air after keeping a serious face for too long. Just like she could not let him get away with using her like he had, not without saying something.

So tonight, after sending Simon and Niklaas home, she confronted him. He was finishing the cold pizza they had earlier, mumbling about anchovies.

“How did that broom get stuck so high up your arse?”, she asked, a fake incredulous look on her face. He almost chocked on a tiny hairy fish, and he fumed.

“I’d really love to ear that story. Please, tell me how!” She batted her eyelashes, simulating fascination.

“I’m not playing this game with you…” He dropped the slice back in its box.

“No, of course not. I can’t take control of the conversation, that would belittle you, wouldn’t it?”

He remained silent, stood up and walked towards the door. Before he got there, she aimed and fired: “You lost control the other night.”

He stopped in his tracks, turned around.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did. I had zero control, I left it to you, but you lost it anyway. If you had not lost it, you would’ve pretended. You’re a great pretender, Walker, that’s part of your job. But instead, you acted like a little boy who can’t help breaking his toys.”

“There”, she thought. He twitched when she called him a boy, almost catching fire. And right after, a flash in his eyes. Regrets. Just a hint, before snapping back.

“You enjoyed it.”

“I do like it rough, yes. But I don’t like being treated like a cheap whore.” She got on her feet, moved slowly towards him, stopping just an inch from his tall frame. “I’m not cheap in any way.”

Looking down on her, August wrapped his arm around her waist, resting his hand in the small of her back, drawing her closer to him. Almost tenderly, if it wasn’t for the hardening cock in his pants, rubbing lightly against her belly. He breathed in slowly, before what must have felt to him like spilling his guts.

“Let me take you out while we’re in London. For dinner.”

She pushed away from him, moving towards the door.

“No.” She got out of the office. “See you at work tomorrow, Walker.”

#fanfic #august walker #august walker fic #august walker smut #The Monster #smutty smut

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thesunnyshow · 4 years

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Name: Penelope

Writing Blog URL(s): @tigertaehyunq

Star Sign: Virgo

MBTI: INFJ-T

Favorite color: Purple

Favorite food: Cheese burgers

Favorite ice cream flavor: Blueberry

Favorite animal: Cats ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Go-to karaoke song: Promise - Jimin (BTS)

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? Coffee, definitely!

Dream job (whether you have a job or not)? Psychiatrist / Fashion designer

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? Time travelling, if possible. It would come in handy.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? The Victorian era, maybe.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? No. It’s a lot more fun going into it blindly.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? One horse-sized chicken would not be that bad.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? The nerd.

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? Yes.

What are some small things that make your day better? Little compliments from friends and family, a bright song that pops into my mind as soon as I wake up.

What fandom(s) do you write for? BTS

When did you post your first piece? February 2nd, 2020

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I write fluff, angst and crack for now. They’re the three genres I feel most comfortable with so far. And they’re entertaining to write for.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? X Readers for now, but I’m slowly moving to write for ships too.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? It appeared to be quite fun and I wanted to connect with more people who had similar interests as me.

What inspires you to write? Songs inspire me most, and talking with fellow writers helps too!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? Angst and crack, probably. I love writing for fake dating AUs the most.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? That everything comes around and wraps neatly at the end. And it may not be visible at first, but I always appreciate when readers point out my foreshadowing specifically.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? I take a break from writing and let it come on its own. It usually works, and in the rare cases it doesn’t, a push from my inspirations gets me going.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? My favourite work, and the only work that I feel like lives up to my expectations, is my Jungkook x reader fic titled ‘Someone Like You’. I like how I wrote it and got attached to the characters. My most successful work is likely the series, ‘Shoot Me’.

Who is your favorite person to write about? I love writing for all the members of BTS so much and it takes quite a lot of effort to not make every single story OT7 x reader, but I mostly end up settling for Jungkook, though I’ve been writing a lot for Hoseok lately behind the scenes.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? Well, there are quite a few differences. Fanfiction doesn’t always involve making your own love interests since you’d know the person you're writing for pretty well (like an idol), unlike in original prose. Though it doesn’t make fanfiction any less better. Both are great in their own ways, with little differences here and there.

What do you think makes a good story? The way of writing and how the voices of the characters are delivered. I find it enticing when that’s done in a good way and it always draws a reader in, so I try my best to follow that too.

What is your writing process like? Most of the time, it starts with a rough outline in bullet points about the main events, characters and personalities, etc, before I plan the details in my head because I’m too lazy to write them all down, and write away at a blank document until the fanfic finishes.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? I’ve thought about it. And I would, though I’d add a lot more depth and details.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? I love fake dating, yandere, siren, soulmates, childhood best friends to lovers and modern royalty AUs. I don’t think there’s any specific trope I hate. But I’ve read stories with a bully and victim turning to lovers and that one might be the only AU that irks me off.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? Depends. If I’ve written the work specifically for someone, then that person’s feedback is more than enough for me. But I usually do like to have some feedback and it makes me very happy.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Sometimes. And by that, I mean, most of the time. I think the prejudice and bias is slowly dying down, but I wouldn’t be surprised if a large majority still judged fanfic authors unfairly!

Do you think art can be a medium for change? Definitely. In fact, art is one of the best mediums when it comes to wanting to make a change, doesn’t matter how big or small.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? At first, this was common. But recently, I’ve learnt to flow with the story and write it for myself, so I can see how it goes and where the characters end up. It’s a lot more fun this way.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? No. Not that I can think of, anyway.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? Nope.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? That I appreciate the time they took to read my work(s). It’s really encouraging and sweet.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? It’s okay to step out of your comfort zone. Success comes from trial and error and it’s alright to feel down when that happens. Writing is a journey, and it’s best to let go of all doubts as you progress through it.

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? Not yet. Dare I say it, it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made thus far!

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? My biggest supporters are @bangtan-dreamland and @rubinora. I find myself lucky to be able to rant to them since I don’t have anyone else to turn to.

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

#@tigertaehyunq #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 33 #bts

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