#kudos: under 300

[carbuncle-paws]

Thank you guys for 300+ kudos on the fic! That seems like a lot to me since the fic is pretty new, so I made this last night when the numbers were getting close to celebrate! And as a gift to you ;3

A version with hair on the placeholder char can be seen under the cut below! (reminder, reader's appearance in either pic is not canon)

#when angels fall - fanfic #carbie draws #my art #yourboyfriend #yourboyfriendgame #yourboyfriend game #yourboyfriendpeter #yourboyfriend peter #yb peter #y0urb0yfriend

[yuri-is-online]

Hello, hello! Congrats on making the 300 follower milestone!👍 Well done! For the event, can I request prompt no. 17 with Riddle, Leona and Jamil, please? Thank you and kudos!

17. Kissing under the fireworks

Thank you friend! Very on brand request for Jamil ha ha. I accidentally made Leona's part angsty I am so sorry

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Riddle is a bit awkward, references to the events at the very end of Ch. 5/beginning of Ch. 6 (Leona- hurt with heavy focus on comfort), references to the events of the Firelit Sky Event (Jamil- nothing too specific). Check out the rest of the requests on my masterlist here.

Riddle

"Are you ok Riddle? You're really tense." You ask and wonder if it was smart, the comment makes Riddle even more rigid to a degree that has to be painful. "I can let go of your hand-"

"No!" You shouldn't be so surprised how loudly he protests, emphasizing his point by intertwining your fingers without his usual embarrassment. "We are on a date so we are holding hands." Seeing that this does not persuade you he less certainly adds: "I want to hold your hand."

"I want to hold your hand too." You reassure him, squeezing his hand to emphasize the point making Riddle practically glow with happiness. He squeezes your hand as you both settle into the colosseum bleachers waiting for the fireworks show to begin. There is a part of you that wonders what Riddle has planned, he always has some sort of itinerary when you go on dates which sounds annoying but in practice is sort of cute. Riddle needs structure to feel comfortable, and if he needs to make a mental checklist to feel comfortable holding your hand you don't mind. He's relaxing into you the longer you spend together, eventually that checklist will fade into habit and Riddle will be able to hold your hand without looking smug every time he looks down at your intertwined fingers.

Fireworks burst into the sky illuminating that smug smile and the flicker of uncertainty as his blue grey eyes focus on your lips. A normal person might not think of giving their partner a kiss as a rule, but Riddle does. Clumsily he closes the distance and bumps more than he kisses your cheek, immediately sending his mind into a panic when you turn to him confused.

But then you smile, happiness bathed in red, blue, green as you lean forward to help him achieve his goal. You kiss him and melt away all thoughts of rules and obligation under a wave of wonder and happiness.

Leona

It's strange to see Leona up this late. Stranger still that this is, apparently, completely of his own free will. "I'm surprised you asked me to come, I thought you'd hate stuff like this."

"And I'm surprised you're this excited over somethin' this simple." He neither confirms or denies your accusation, instead settling himself close to your side on the shockingly nice blanket he had insisted on bringing onto the green.

"I've never seen magic fireworks before." You mutter, and Leona is merciful enough not to laugh out loud. It's weird, this soft way he's treating you. Not that you're complaining exactly, after the incident with Grim you barely got a chance to really enjoy any of the culture fair. You didn't go out to see any of the booths past Riddle's tour until Leona dragged you out of bed this afternoon in a trope reversal that stunned you too much to properly protest. There's a part of you that wonders, well more like worries, that Leona's only really taken you around today out of some misguided sense of obligation; you can't see him ever doing anything out of pity.

Not when he braces you against his chest just before the show begins, not when he makes sure you are comfortable with the level of noise, or how he makes sure not to put too much pressure on your wound when he nuzzles himself into your neck as the show truly starts. No, there's nothing resembling pity in the way Leona looks at you.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" He contentedly murmurs in your ear, pressing a brief kiss to your cheek before you drag him back to you for a longer one on your lips.

No, there's nothing resembling pity in the way Leona looks at you; just love, and maybe an annoyingly smug sense of satisfaction.

Jamil

"Before you start, I know what I said last year and I do not want to hear about it." You aren't certain why Jamil is bringing this up now when he hadn't while inviting you. Maybe because the last time you were under these canopies you weren't friends, so the numerous less than kind things he's said about you are whirling around in his mind.

You wonder what that Jamil would think if he saw this Jamil holding you in his lap while you wait for the show to start. He'd probably have a stroke.

"I don't really remember what you're talking about." You had been really excited about seeing fireworks and having fun dressing up to really think about Jamil being, well, a bit of a sourpuss. "Besides it can't be worse than anything else you've ever said about me." Jamil is far from sour now, the smile on his face as he pulls you up to your feet to begin dancing in tune with the show is exceptionally mischievous.

"It wasn't about you really, even if I wasn't conscious of it I knew I wanted to bring you back here someday." That's news to you, sure he said he felt bad about making more work for you and had made sure to dance with you during that show, but it's not like he'd had his eye on you before his overblot. As if he could read your mind, or maybe to be more accurate as if he had been trying to provoke that exact thought, he makes sure to dance more intimately than he did last time, reaching to hold you in his arms as the climax of the show explodes above you. The first kiss is brief, a gentle peck because he wants to get a good look at you in your outfit bathed in the firelit sky before the second.

It had been an idle thought then, but if that Jamil could see this one his smug satisfaction would outweigh the embarrassment. To be anyone's first choice was a win, to be yours? A complete and total victory.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #jamil viper x reader #300 followers celebration #as a side note #the firelit sky twist tunes go hard #i replayed them while i was writing this to get in the mood lol

[ijhyo]

CHAPTER 4

what was supposed to be a fun weekend away with friends turns into a sinister game of hide and seek where their lives are on the line. trapped in a lake house cabin with only six hours on the clock, can y/n figure out who is behind the mask and manage not to get caught all before sunrise?

PAIRING. soobin x gn reader ; beomgyu x gn reader ; yeonjun x gn reader

GENRE. college au ; mystery ; thriller ; escape room ; angst ; horror ; humour

WARNINGS. character deaths (quick, act surprised) ; injuries ; blood ; swearing ; stabbing ; guns

WORD COUNT. 7k

A/N. FINALLY! she is here! after 300 years the final installment of the here i come series is out GOD BLESS. never have i been so happy to finish something in my life. very big thank you to everyone who continued showing interest in this fic even though this chapter took forever, this is truly for u I LOVE YALL! some of u have kind of guessed the killers so kudos to you, big brained people. i cant think of anything else to say just here you go, thank u, enjoy!!

TAGLIST. @tsupuffs @ren-chib @yjwfav @mykalon @junityy @iyeonjuni @fallingforhoon @fairybinie @enhacolor @cheorei @jjhmk @acciomylove @yeonjunsgf777 @soobin-chois @chosoluvr @odxrilove @soobisms @strawbrinkofdeath @etherealcherrie @maemarahuya @1-800-ryujin @wisecheesecakecloud @fairyofshampgyu @i-haewon @cottontvil @minthicons @bettyschwallocksyee @glyxiebear @calumsfringe @luvrboygyu @clyspm @celestialgyu @fallingforya @gyumie @ihsmarat @wooseoft @tatansoobin @wccycc @hello0i @prodsputnik @yotser @yhawnnzz @najaemin138 @ljnfav

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When you come to, you are laying in a bed, an overhead light shines glaring harshly in your eyes. You blink blearily, trying to get used to the brightness of the room and getting your vision to focus.

Movement catches your attention at the foot of your bed. You see Lia moving around the room, picking up your dirty clothes to do the laundry because you always forget to put them away, humming under her breath as she works.

Saturday was always laundry day.

After you got out of bed, you would be the one to take out the trash and go shopping for any groceries you needed. By the time you’d get back, Lia would have already finished with lunch.

You’d watch a movie or two, maybe play a game if you could convince your roommate, and order take out for dinner.

Right about now, she would tsk her tongue and throw a dirty shirt at you, telling you that you need to start cleaning up for yourself. You’d roll your eyes fondly and promise to be neater. Lia would accept it even though she doesn’t believe you and the process would be repeated all over again the next week.

You wait for the shirt to hit your face. It never comes.

Instead, the illusion is shattered when your eyes finally focus on the person you saw and see that their back is way too broad to be your friend’s and that, looking around curiously, this was not your apartment.

Everything comes rushing back then.

The game. The killers. Lia.

You’re laying down comfortably but you feel dizzy. Raising a hand to your head, you feel cotten where your temple should be and find that pressure causes a sharp sting to shoot up to your forehead. You let out a low curse at the pain and the other person finally takes notice of you.

He moves to your side, relief written on his face. “Oh, you’re awake, thank God.” You try to place the boy in your memory but draw a blank. “You passed out sometime between the lake and here and didn’t wake up for half an hour. I was starting to get worried.”

Yeonjun, your brain supplies when all the recent events catch up to you.

Now that you could see his face illuminated properly, pretty seems like an understatement. His dark hair is pushed back, revealing his forehead and you didn’t think that could be attractive, but here you are.

Yeonjun is still watching you. You clear your throat. “Um, thanks. For helping me.”

“You’re welcome,” he says smiling. “You looked like you needed it.” You suppress a scoff. If only he knew. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

His sudden question snaps you back. He has his hand up in your direct line of vision. “What?”

“I’m checking if you have a concussion. I dressed your wounds as best I could with zero first aid training but I need to make sure you won’t pass out again on me.”

His fingers are really pretty. You blink. “Oh. Three.”

Yeonjun smiles, satisfied. “Okay. Good, that’s good.”

He walks around the bed and disappears behind through a door. You use this opportunity to look around the room Yeonjun put you in, not finding it familiar at all.

Knowing that it is not far from Soobin’s lake house, you think that this house must be on the same level of extravagance, or at least close to it, but this room gives no indication of that. It’s smaller than the bedroom you were going to spend the night in before but still larger than the one in your apartment.

There is indications of use around; a t-shirt hanging on the back of a chair; shoes spilling out of the closet; and the faint smell of cologne lingers in the air. It all seems so boy that the only conclusion you draw is that this is Yeonjun’s room.

The boy in your returns with a glass of water that you accept gratefully. You hadn’t realised how thirsty you were until you downed the drink in seemingly one gulp. Yeonjun watches amusedly as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and you feel your face heat.

“Where are we?” You ask, holding the glass in your hands.

Yeonjun looks around the room in thought, humming. “About ten minutes away from where I found you.”

“Do you live here?”

“Nah,” he denies easily, taking a seat ay the foot of the bed, being careful to avoid touching your legs, “I’m just house sitting. The family that lives here is away at their other vacation house. In Japan.”

At your stunned look (you’re pretty sure that your mouth is open wide), Yeonjun nods hugely. “I know. Rich people, am I right?”

You scoff. “You could say that.”

It goes quiet. Yeonjun watches you curiously, his heavy gaze makes you avert your eyes to the glass in your hold. You clear your throat. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

He winces. “Can I?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance, before launching into your recount of the night’s events. You watch his face as it goes from curious to shocked before finally settling on what is a mixture of disbelief and disgust.

Which, sums it up pretty nicely.

“That’s…Fuck, I-I don’t even know what to say. Who would do that?”

It feels oddly reassuring hearing this surprise from someone who has zero knowledge of the fucked up party you were just at. You inhale sharply. “Don’t know yet. But I’m gonna find out.” And you were. You couldn’t sit here forever.

“And the rest of your friends? You said you think they’re…” Dead. The word hangs between the two of you, too scared to be spoken aloud for fear they might be true.

“Well,” you start decisively, “they might not be.” With that, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, holding back a cry at the pain that erupts from the sudden movement.

Yeonjun’s hands shoot out to steady you, eyebrows creased with worry. “Woah! What are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you grit out, pushing off the taller boy.

“You’re quite literally not. You might not have a concussion but fuck, Y/N, you’ve been stabbed. You can’t go out there. You need rest.”

Continuing out of the bedroom, you find yourself in an enormous foyer, almost as grand as the Choi family’s. “I need to make sure my friends are okay. I need to make those bastards pay.”

Your path is blocked by a very tall wall standing in your way. You roll your eyes, knowing that he used the fact that he doesn’t need to limp to pass you. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Yeonjun stands defiantly, arms crossed and displeasure clear in the hard set of his jaw. You are getting quite sick of boys telling you no.

You stop in your tracks, thinking.

Then, “Do you have any knives?”

2 HOURS LEFT

The trek up the hill is hard with your injuries and takes longer than it should have had you been in full strength. The ground is soft beneath your feet, gives way every few feet and you have to readjust yourself carefully to avoid slipping.

A knife, so graciously given to you by Yeonjun, is hidden under your shirt. You walk in a way that it won’t accidentally nick your side. It feels awkward but it works.

Nearing the house, light spills out into the night, the grand chandelier still on. It is jarring almost, how the trees go from being cloaked in darkness to being bathed in bright light.

The front door is deserted.

You feel the warmth from the fireplace rather than see it, noting how it is still on, despite everything. That someone was stoking it.

You enter cautiously. Hand hovering over where the knife is, you stalk your way back into the kitchen and the sight of your altercation with the seeker leaves a sour taste in your mouth. The kettle remains strewn across the floor, a puddle of water mixed with blood spilled across the wooden floor.

Heart hammering loudly in your chest, you approach the door to the wine cellar, hand clutched to your waist. You know there is a possibility that the seeker could be there, could jump out and surprise you at any moment, but now that you have your own weapon to defend yourself, you wouldn’t let that fear stop you from finding Lia.

A crash.

Your head whips around frantically at the sound. Straining your ears, you listen carefully for any indication of where the noise came from. Quietly, you duck behind the kitchen island into a crawl. The knife nicks digs into your stomach but you ignore it, focusing on controlling your breathing so as to not bring attention to your location.

There is a slam as something collapses against the ground.

“Get away from me!”

Your heart stutters.

Soobin.

The sound of heavy footsteps gets louder with every passing second as someone walks closer to your hiding spot. Peaking your head around the side of the island, you try to get a glimpse of who it is, but the wall of the kitchen obscures your view. Clenching your teeth, you steel yourself to take the risk and reveal yourself to see who it is.

Slowly moving from your crouched position, you rise to your feet and are greeted by the back of the boy you have liked for two years, the boy who went through all this trouble just to try and create a night you’d enjoy.

“Soobin.” Your voice cracks around his name. Tears well in your eyes and threaten to spill.

He turns and your heart soars. “Y/N?” Relief washes over his features as he takes you in. He barely gives you time to respond before he crosses over to you and engulfs you in a massive hug.

Immediately, your shoulders relax and all the tension in your body melts away when his arms wrap around you. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried, you just disappeared and I couldnʼt find and there was blood everywhere I, I thought—”

Pulling back slightly, you press a gentle hand to his face to stop his rambling. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” His eyes search yours and he nods numbly, bringing a hand to cover yours.

Soobin laughs mirthlessly. “Some game night, huh?”

Your chuckle comes out wet. “Not exactly what I had in mind, no.” You chance a look over his shoulder, expecting to see one of the seekers pop out and ruin the moment. Focusing your gaze back on Soobin, you graze your eyes over his face, going through a mental checklist of injuries. There’s a cut above his eye and dried blood crusts his cheek. Aside from that and a split lip, he’s fine. You exhale in relief. “They didn’t get you,” you breathe, more of a statement than a question.

He’s in front of you, face beneath your fingers, real and alive.

Soobin nods once. “They tried to, but I got away in time.”

“That’s good. Have you seen Beomgyu? Lia?”

“No, I’m sorry,” he admits solemnly and you feel your heart constrict. That doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, stopping yourself from thinking the worst. He must read your mind because his eyes rove over your face and he kisses his teeth. “Y/N…” he warns carefully, but your mind is up.

You tell him as much, but he’s still against it. “You don’t have to do anything, Y/N. The doors are open–we could leave! Get out of here right now.”

While what he is saying sounds appealing, there is nothing more that you want than to get as far away from this house as possible, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that without your friends. “I came back here because I couldnʼt leave you guys. I found you and I’m not leaving until I find the others. I’m not leaving without them.”

There is a possibility that you are in over your head. That even if you did manage to get past the seekers, the chances of you finding your friends alive was slim. You know that’s what Soobin is thinking, that he’s just trying to be rational. You expect him to argue, but instead he just sighs. Glances up at the ceiling. Locks eyes with you again.

“Okay.” Even though he agrees, you can tell he’s still apprehensive. “But I’m going with you.”

You nod, offering him a grateful smile that he returns. Your mind flits through the faces of the other people who were at the party, a drop in your stomach when you remember all the people who died. “What about the others? Yunho and Wooyoung?”

At the mention of their names, Soobin’s eyes darken and his jaw sets.

Cocking your head to the side, you ask, “What is it?”

It takes him a moment to respond, a myriad of emotions passing on his face as he considers whether to tell you whatever it is or not. He comes to a decision when he inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. You watch him curiously. “They…fuck. They’re the seekers, Y/N.”

You blink owlishly. “What?” you question, barely above a whisper. There’s no way. It can’t be. You saw them, you, you played with them, you might have even gone as far to say you could have become friends. They couldn’t have…

But Soobin’s mouth is set in a hard line and suddenly the room seems too small. “But how could they…in the screening room, they were with you. How could they…?” You can’t get the question out but Soobin understands anyway.

His face softens as she shakes his head. “They joined us later, before I found you. And then, after you left, so did Yunho. He came back as the seeker and killed Jongho right in front of us, and we all ran. I saw Sumin’s body at the top of the stairs and I was just attacked. It’s them. They’re behind all of this.”

You feel sick. Bile creeps up your throat and threatens to spill out, but you swallow it down.

Shutting your eyes tight, you exhale shakily. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change the fact that your best friend was missing.

Squaring your shoulders back, you lock eyes with Soobin.

“I’m getting Lia back. And those bastards are gonna pay.”

His eyes widen in shock at your concoction but he recovers quickly. Nodding once, he grabs one of your hands and leads you out to the living room where the couches have been turned over and the coffee table lies on the carpeted floor in pieces, splinters of wood littering the ground.

You chance a glance at Soobin. He really put up a fight, huh?

“How are your parents going to feel about you trashing their house?” you ask, going for a joke.

He responds with a cheeky grin. “Great, if I never tell them. I’m sure I can convince them to spend a couple winters in Jeju and they’ll be none the wiser.”

Whether or not he’s kidding, you can’t tell. The thought of his family owning yet another holiday home—in Jeju no less—is…strange. You think that if you try to comprehend just how rich Soobin is, steam would start coming out of your head. You personally had never travelled further than the places you’ve lived, let alone had houses purely for the purpose of visiting during specific seasons.

But this must be normal for him as he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. Okay. Cool. You’re just going to assume that Soobin has a house in every major city of Korea at this point.

The two of you barely make it past the staircase, past Isa’s lifeless body that has since turned a ghostly pale yellow, when a voice yells from behind you, thick with malice and so raspy it sounds as though it ripped through their throat, “Soobin!”

Simultaneously, you and the boy in question’s heads turn, hands still clasped together, and come face to face with the seekers. Masks still donned with the same cloak they’ve been wearing all night, you wonder who is who.

One of them steps towards the two of you, and you surprise yourself by planting your feet firmly in place. “Soobin,” he says and with a chill down your spine, you find that it is, in fact, Yunho, his voice familiar to you after all this time. Why he’s decided to ditch the voice modulator, you don’t know. Your eyes narrow.

Next to him, Wooyoung practically seethes. Closing the distance between you, he stalks over, knife brandished like a sword, crying, “We’re going to fucking kill you—!”

BANG!

Wooyoung stops in his tracks. His head drops to the center of his chest where you notice a pool of red spilling through the cloak and spreading outward. At the same time he drops the floor to his knees, you turn to look at Soobin. With a gun in his hands.

ONE HOUR LEFT

Soobin gives you a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye. “Make them pay, right?”

You swallow, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. Right? That is what you said, this is what you wanted, but—fuck. He has a gun? Has he had one this entire time? He knows how to fire one? The knife pressed against your stomach burns against your skin.

Soobin doesn’t acknowledge your apparent discomfort, he doesn’t even look at you. Instead he watches Wooyoung clutch his chest desperately, blood seeping through his fingers. Watches Yunho rush to his friend’s side, distressed as he yanks off the mask from his face. Watches as his friend’s name falls from his lips in between a string of “no, no, no, no”s that sound something between a plea and a prayer.

He watches all of this impassively. His face barely twitches. He looks almost bored.

In the past night you have seen more people die and be killed than you would care to count, and yet, seeing the boy you’ve cared about for years put a bullet in someone so easily, without so much as a flinch, makes something ugly curl in your stomach.

Revenge is what you wanted, but something about this feels wrong.

Yunho crouches over Wooyoung and removes his friend’s face, brushing the shorter boy’s hair away from his forehead. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he repeats, a mantra as he rips off a piece of his cloak to press against the wound, over the sound of Wooyoung’s laboured wheezing. He turns to glare at the both of you, something heady and full of hatred. “What is wrong with you?” he cries out, voice thick with anguish.

You find yourself wanting to defend yourself, to tell him that you didn’t do anything, that you never knew Soobin would do that. But you stop when you remember that they hurt your friends, they hurt you; you have the wound on your your leg to prove it and—

Oh, god.

You’re going to be sick.

Masks thrown to the side on the bloodied floor, you can see their faces clearly. Soft light rises from outside as the sun makes its ascent over the horizon—Has it really been that long since this fucked up game started?—and casts a glow across their features. Their unmarred features.

You slammed a kettle of boiling across one of their seeker’s faces; you burned him. And yet, here they stand, skin as smooth as a baby.

Eyes blown wide, you exhale shakily, “It’s not them.”

“What are you talking about?” Soobin asks through a scoff. You take a step away from him, hands trembling at your side at your revelation.

“I-I hit one of them. Neither of them have any scars or anything. It’s not them. Soobin, they’re innocent.” He looks at you for the first time since firing his gun, one that is calculated, like he’s assessing you, and has his jaw clenching. He’s never looked at you like this before.

From the ground, Wooyoung laughs mirthlessly through gritted teeth, catching your attention. Blood spittles from his mouth and you wince. “You think this fucker doesn’t know that?”

Yunho nods in Soobin’s direction. “He’s the one who knocked us out and put us in these clothes to frame us and forced us to pretend to be seekers. He threatened to hurt that Beom—”

With a tired sigh, Soobin rolls his eyes and aims his gun at the two boys. “This is tedious.”

Two shots.

One through Yunho’s head and another to Wooyoung’s chest, right where his heart is.

The shots rings out in the expansive living room, reverberating in your ears. You think you flinch, but you can’t be sure. Not with how your body feels as though it’s been doused with cement. You can’t move.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?”

Your mind was spinning. Soobin just shot two people. Two innocent people. Two innocent people who just accused him of—oh, god, you can’t keep the bile down anymore.

You heave.

“Oh, don’t tell me you believe them. Those guys?” Soobin asks disbelievingly, waving the gun around like it’s like a toy and not a weapon that just killed two people.

“You shot them,” you say, arms shaking at your sides.

“Yeah. After they killed my friends.”

“I just told you they didn’t!” Your voice cracks around the last syllable and Soobin’s face softens. He takes a step towards you, arm reaching out for you, but you step back, putting as much distance between the two of you. “Don’t touch me.”

He tries to stop you by saying, “Hey, don’t be like that,” but you just shake your head, trying to wrap your head around the last few minutes, but you find that you can’t. Nothing makes sense.

Nothing about the boy you liked being a gun carrying murderer makes sense. Nothing about the weekend that was supposed to be a fun time with your friends turning into a bloodbath made sense. The whole situation was making your head and you were so tired.

You just wanted to leave and go home to your tiny apartment with your best friend and watch a movie and complain about your classes over beer. You wish Soobin never planned this stupid party in the first place.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

I planned this whole thing for you.

The room tilts, like the world has been shifted on its axis. Moments from the night start slotting together like puzzle pieces in your mind as you recall the way Soobin wanted you to hide together at beginning of the game, how he just so happened to find you after Sunghoon was killed, how even though he claims to have gotten into a fight with the seekers, he barely has a scratch on him.

How he killed Wooyoung and Yunho despite you telling him they weren’t the seekers.

That ugly thing in the pit of your stomach grows and spreads throughout your body wraps itself around your throat.

Tears prick your eyes, sick and disbelief clawing up your throat. “You…” The words lodge themselves under your tongue.

Soobin’s face morphs just then.

Gone is the look of boyish care you have grown so familiar with, that you have fallen in love with, and is overtaken by a smug, snakelike grin. The sight chills you.

He claps. Actually applauds as he looks at you with something akin to pride. “God, you’re so smart. I knew you’d get it, you know? I always believed in you,” he admits, awe lacing his voice. Checking his watch, he whistles. “And with forty-seven minutes to spare! Wow. Your intelligence is one of the things I like about you, you know?”

What the fuck was happening right now? Was he confessing to you? Right now?

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You were fucking timing me? Why the fuck would you do that?”

“For you, obviously.” He says it matter-of-factly and it gives you pause. “You know,” he starts, walking around the base of the stairs with the air of someone giving a seminar, “when I told the guys that I knew you’d figure it out, they didn’t believe me. I said ‘That Y/N? She’s smart, she loves riddles. She’ll put two and two together.’. But they were adamant that the stress of the situation would be too much for you to handle and you wouldn’t be able to think clearly, blah blah blah. Psych majors. You know how they are.” He says it like the two of you are in on a joke together.

You want to wring his neck.

“And I guess they were right, kind of, but you pulled through in the end. Just like I knew you would.” Soobin flashes you a smile that before tonight, would have left your knees weak, but now the sight just makes you angry.

The fact that he thinks you should be flattered that he apparently thinks highly of your deduction skills in a situation he orchestrated that ended with so many people dead makes you sick. He bet on you.

With the seekers, you think abruptly. It has to be.

Your mind works quickly, trying to figure out who they really are and you gasp at your revelation.

His smile widens and you have half a mind to punch it right off. “I think introductions are in order, don’t you?”

As though summoned, two dark figures walk towards the both of you from a secret door in the walls of the living room. The seekers. One of them pushes someone along roughly—Beomgyu, your brain supplies—, a knife pressed against his throat.

A wave of relief washes over you as you lock eyes. “Y/N,” he exhales, breathlessly, eyes raking over your body. “You’re okay.”

“So are you,” you nod, voice dripping with relief, then you wince. “All things considered.”

He chuckles at that. “I suppose it could be worse.”

“Shut up,” the seeker holding Beomgyu snaps, the same voice modulator that has been tormenting you for six hours crackles.

The other one regards you lowly, through the black eye holes of the mask they don. “Y/N!” they announce dramatically, but Soobin raises a hand to stop them.

“You can ditch the voice now, guys. She figured it out.”

“God dammit!” they curse, ripping the mask off in an angry huff. “I can never have any fun around here.”

Finally, the identities of the people who have made your night a living hell is revealed to you. The boys standing in front of you are two you have only seen in pictures, heard about through anecdotes, the who, up until six hours ago, you had so wanted to meet.

Taehyun and Kai. The fucking seekers.

“What the fuck?” Beomgyu curses incredulously, staring at the faces of boys he used to pass in the halls at school.

Earlier that last night Soobin had told you that his two best friends were away at a yacht party.

We were having so much fun but you just had to go and rock the boat!

Jesus Christ.

You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now, it clicks in your mind perfectly. You barely hold back a scoff. What a terrible clue.

Kai’s mouth spreads snakily across his face, in an unnerving imitation of a smile. “Hey, Y/N. Nice to finally meet you.”

You snarl.

Off to the side, Soobin is practically vibrating in place, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a little kid. “You figured it out, right? I was worried that telling you about the yacht party was too much of a throwaway comment and then there was the issue of trying to find a way for Kai to slip in something about a water or a boat—Have to thank you, Beomgyu, for that stunt you pulled. Really appreciate it.”

Your childhood friend physically recoils at that. Taehyun grunts and presses the knife against his throat deeper. Beomgyu winces.

Shaking your head, you turn and confront Soobin. “So what was the point of all this? You guys killed all these people for what?” A tremor goes through your hands so you ball them into fists at your side.

Soobin cocks his head to the side innocently. “For you, Y/N. You love game nights. You love riddles and puzzles and mysteries, so I came up with the biggest one just for you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Beomgyu exclaims. “You’re telling me that you did all of this, killed all of your fucking friends because you have a crush?”

Behind him, Taehyun shrugs noncommittally. “People who experience traumatic events together are inexplicably bonded for life.”

A beat.

“You were trying to fucking trauma bond with me?”

“You make it sound so simple,” he complains, waving the gun dismissively. “I made rules, people, there was structure. You know the order people died was the order they knew each other? Of course you did, you probably realised. But what you didn’t know is that Beomgyu—” he points the gun at him— “was supposed to go first. But you guys screwed it up! How the hell do you guys even know each other?”

“Your mom introduced us,” Beomgyu hisses defiantly. Blood trickles down his neck in response.

Soobin squints his eyes as if bored. “Real mature. Anyways, I saw you two talking in the kitchen at the beginning of the night so I had to do some emergency rearranging. So, in a way, Sunghoon dying first is kind of your fault. Granted, he would have died anyway, but, you know. Semantics.”

The same sweet boy who used to walk you to class and take you out for coffee after stressful exam weeks, the same boy who helped you out with homework and made you feel like the sun was bursting in your chest by smiling was the same one who hurt you, your friends. And he didn’t even feel an ounce of remorse for it.

“Fuck you,” you spit menacingly but you are just brushed off.

Soobin waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Plenty of time for that later. Now, we have to address the elephant in the room. The elephant, of course, being Beomgyu. Killing him now would mess up the order and I’m kind of a stickler for the—”

He doesn’t get to finish because out of the corner of your eye, Beomgyu elbows his captor in the stomach hard. Taehyun keels over, releasing him and you spur into action. Surprised, Kai takes a moment to recover before he is slashing at Beomgyu’s arm with his knife. Beomgyu hisses in pain, clutching his shoulder.

Rushing to Wooyoung’s body, pain flaring up your leg, you pry his knife from his fingers and say a silent apology in your head. “Beomgyu!” you yell. He turns to you and after a split second decision, you throw the knife in his direction.

Miraculously, he catches it by the hilt and, before you can blink, he’s lodged it in Kai’s throat.

The first seeker splutters, hands flying to press against the wound but it proves futile. Blood gushes from his neck like a burst pipe. Kai chokes as blood gets into his throat, coughing up red.

It’s a gruesome sight but it fills you with satisfaction, watching as he, too, succumbs to the same death he subjected your friends to.

Kai let's out a final wheeze before he falls to his knees, one arm reaching up to Beomgyu who watches on, face blank and chest heaving. Finally, Kai’s body goes limp and hits the floor with a thud.

“Well,” Soobin starts with a clap, turning to Taehyun, “guess I owe you that island.”

His friend grunts weakly, still recovering from Beomgyu’s assault. “You shouldn’t bet against me,” Taehyun admonishes when he rises to his full height.

Soobin nods sagely, chuckling. “I have learned my lesson.” Beomgyu steps back towards you and you reach for him instinctively. Soobin tracks the movement and something downright evil sparkles in his eyes. “Tell you what,” he says, addressing Taehyun, though his eyes never leave you and Beomgyu. “Do one more thing and I’ll throw in another.”

“An island?” you question incredulously. This was just getting ridiculous.

Taehyun shrugs. “It’s part of his inheritance. But now, it’ll be part of mine.” He stalks closer to the two of you causing you to back up to the stairs, nearly tripping over Isa’s body.

Knife pointed, he draws nearer menacingly. He’s after Beomgyu, you know. In some twisted form of logic you know that he won’t hurt you, not with Soobin right there.

Beomgyu tries to stand up straight but you can see the pain clear on his face as he clutches his injured arm. Taehyun grins at that, and lunges—

A wine bottle swings against his head from behind.

Taehyun’s body stills. He crumples to the floor in a heap of black fabric, head hitting the ground with a loud thud.

“Fuck rich people,” the assailant spits, chest heaving and your heart squeezes.

Lia.

She notices you and she lets the bottle drop from her grasp and the two run to embrace the other. All the tension you were holding in your shoulder eases, your body physically sagging against hers in relief.

You don’t even realise you are crying until damp spots start forming on her shoulder. Tears rack through your body at the feeling of your best friend in your arms, alive just like you believed she would be. Her grip around you tightens as she clutches the back of your shirt as though she fears you’ll disappear if she lets go.

“They attacked me in our room when I was grabbing my book, then tied me up and left me in the cellar. Told me that it wasn’t my turn yet. I tried to loosen them but whoever tied them used some kind of fucking boats knot. Broke one of the bottles and cut the rope with a glass shard—and my hand, too.”

It is her only injury, you note when the two of you finally pull apart. She has ripped off the left sleeve of her shirt and wrapped it around her hand as a makeshift gauze. It is stained with a giant blotch of blood but she’s alive.

She nods to Beomgyu appreciatively and he responds with a two finger wave. As she takes in the scene, all the blood and mess and bodies littering the floor, you see how her jaw tightens and eyes narrow. When they settle on Soobin, she spits in his face.

He recoils in disgust and wipes it away with—he’s got to be fucking kidding—a handkerchief from his pants pocket.

“You fucker,” Lia sneers.

He merely rolls his eyes. “Oh, great the band’s back together,” he drawls unenthusiastically. “There’s still twenty minutes left of the game, can we wrap this up?”

Aiming his gun between Lia and Beomgyu he pretends to ponder who he’s going to kill next. Lia stares him dead on, defiance dancing in her eyes and you have never been more in awe of your friend before.

“Y/N?”

Everybody’s heads whip around to the front door where Yeonjun stands in the threshold, confusion dancing in his eyes as he takes in the scene.

He came.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Soobin exclaims haughtily, arms going up in annoyance. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“The guy who called the cops,” he reveals, jutting out his chin as he walks towards you. “They’re on their way.” The last part is directed more to you than Soobin and you have never been more grateful to see a boy you just met.

“Good,” you say nodding, eyes narrowed as you stare down the boy you used to look at only in administration, “you’ll be dead before they get here.”

Soobin has the nerve to gasp in faux shock, clutching at his heart as though you’ve wounded him. “Okay, ouch. That’s hurtful, babe, how could you say that?”

“You tried to kill me. You made me think my best friend was dead.”

He holds up a finger to stop you and you have half a mind to slice it off. “Point of correction: I never tried to kill you. I would never hurt you, Y/N. I did all of this for you! I ruined my favourite holiday house for you! Now I’m stuck with Jeju and fuckass Tokyo. Do you realise how much I’m giving up for you here and you think I’m the bad guy?”

“You’re insane,” you say incredulously.

“Insane for you.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, come on.” He sounds like a petulant child. Which, you suppose, is exactly what he is. “I killed for you! You think, what, fucking Beomgyu can say that? You think you’d be happy with some asshole from across the lake with a terrible dye job? No way, baby! I’m it!” By the time his spiel is over, his arms are outstretched on either side of him, chest heaving like he’s just ran a marathon.

Lia grimaces. “Did you just fucking quote Gone Girl?”

“Ben Afleck rents out his L.A. house to us, of course I did.”

“What the fuck, man?” Beomgyu expresses, face pinched.

“And this isn’t a dye job, dickwad, this is literally my hair.”

Your best friend turns to Yeonjun and stares like he’s an idiot. “Time and place, dude.”

“Y/N. Baby.” You feel yourself cringe at the pet name. He holds out his hands and takes a step towards you. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.” Soobin’s voice takes on a sickly sweet lilt, one that would have had you melting if you didn’t find out he was a psychopath.

Thinking about your friends, a wave of protectiveness and a pang of guilt pass through you. They’re here because of you.

With determination coursing through your veins, you step forward. “You’re right.” Behind you, your friends all verbally express their shock. You ignore them. “This is what I want.”

Soobin’s smile drops into an ‘o’ shape as he inhales sharply. When he glances down at the space between the two of you, he is greeted with the sight of a knife—Yeonjun’s knife—sticking out his abdomen.

“Huh,” is the last thing he says to you.

“Go to hell,” is the last thing you say to him.

Hand still on the hilt, you withdraw the knife only to stab him again. And again, and again, and again.

Over and over until you lose count, you plunge the knife into his body, piercing his skin. Blood splatters all over your face and front but you don’t care. You are moving on pure rage at this point. Rage at this boy who turned your favourite thing in the world against you, who put your friends in danger, who has more money in his left pinky than you’ll ever see in your life.

Finally, you slow, and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head. His body falls to the ground and, for the first time since Sunghoon died in front of you, you smile.

A real, genuine smile spreads across your face as you turn to take in your friends.

“You look like shit,” Lia comments, her own grin growing on her face.

You lift a noncommittal shoulder, teeth bared. “You should see the other guy.”

Beomgyu laughs at that, hearty and full, taking over his whole body and the rest of you aren’t far behind.

Turning to Yeonjun, you find yourself growing shy. “You came.”

“I couldnʼt in good conscience let you walk into a murder house, now could I?” he asks with a tilt of his head and an easy-going grin.

You huff out a laugh and gesture to your blood covered body. “I’d hug you but I’m kind of a mess right now.”

“I don’t know,” he drawls, eyes raking over you appreciatively. Your skin flares wherever his gaze lingers. “I think the blood and guts is working for me.”

Somewhere next to you, Lia fake gags. “Oh, god, Y/N, your new boyfriend is gross.”

“Shut up, Lia,” you admonish without turning to look at her.

Yeonjun chuckles good-naturedly. “How about we reschedule that hug? Possibly after a shower. Preferably over breakfast.”

Feeling your cheeks warm, you nod. “I’d like that.”

“Great. I’m craving pancakes and I could use a hug, too.” You turn to see Beomgyu standing with a cheeky grin on his face.

There is a low grunt from behind you. Slowly rising to his feet is Taehyun having recovered from the wine bottle to the head. Steps staggering, he glares daggers at Beomgyu. “The only hug you’ll be getting is one from death. I’m getting that island—”

A bullet lodges itself in his head and he falls back, eyes blank. Soobin’s gun in hand, Lia stands with it aimed out in front of her.

You don’t even know when she grabbed it.

She exhales heavily. “I needed that.”

Despite everything, you laugh. “So. Breakfast?”

Everyone grunts in affirmation and starts talking over each other about where they should eat when they get back to the city. Obviously, you need to wait for the police to arrive so that you can give your statements. Someone needs to talk to everyones’ parents, let them know what happened. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. Together, of course.

Trauma bonded and all that.

#txt x reader #klibrary #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu reactions #beomgyu scenarios #choi soobin x reader #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #soobin reactions #soobin scenarios #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun reactions #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt reactions #🖇️ — ijhyo works.

[kiwiana-writes]

Your top three comfort fics are all so good…but they’re all also pretty popular. What about a top three under 300 kudos👀

I am SO INTO what you're putting down here, anon... except for the fact that I can't fucking sort my bookmarks by kudos 🤣 so this took a little longer than I expected! I've split the RWRB fics into two: ones published this year that might just be low because people haven't had the chance to read yet, and ones from 2023 and earlier that are hidden gems. Also, please check out my Five Under 500 List from the end of October, because a couple of those are still under 300 and they are all ABSOLUTELY WORTH A READ.

Once again in no particular order:

Top 3 under 300: Red White & Royal Blue (published 2024)

Going Stag by @cicigreen03 - SERIOUSLY an underrated gem and I have no idea why, y'all are MISSING OUT. Alex is hosting Liam and Spencer's bachelor party at the lake house, Spencer's douchey colleague Hunter invites himself along... and brings his boyfriend. You'll NEVER guess who the boyfriend is.

you were more than just a short time by @hypnostheory - MIND. THE. TAGS. But this is absolutely, one thousand percent worth the pain.

Paper Chains by @myheartalivewrites - y'all I tried to do the thing where I quote specific lines from this fic to scream about and I could not bring myself to stop reading long enough to do so. It is an INCREDIBLE journey and one you won't regret going on.

Top 3 under 300: Red White & Royal Blue (published 2023 and earlier)

Spoke Love to Soul by @celaestis1 - honestly my eyes glazed past this as I was skimming down my bookmarks list because I just ASSUMED it would have way more kudos but???? I LOVE a mythical retelling as evidenced by the Orpheus and Eurydice WIP in my folder and this one is STUNNING. A true, true treasure.

Sip You Like Cosmic Juice by @sparklepocalypse - okay listen this one's sitting on EXACTLY 300 so I'm squeaking in while it still applies but: RUGBY THIGHS. That is all.

I want to play a game by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf - Listen it's not a secret that my love of Saw (especially the first one) is like half my personality, so this may not be MARKED as a gift for me but in my heart I tell myself it is 🤣

Top 3 under 300: Schitt's Creek

Town Hall Meeting #5,204 by the_hodag - Genuinely incapable. of reading this without laughing hysterically, actually

The Midpoint by @roguebebe - The roguest baby's first fic and fucking HELL it's stunning. Chock full of Patrick and Stevie feelings, my favourite kind.

You Can Ring My Bell by @designatedgrape - A 5+1 from the POV of the bell over the door at Rose Apothecary, which naturally means it's actually extremely tender and sweet

And as a bonus because why the fuck not...

My favourite fic of mine under 300 kudos

For RWRB it is of course Empty your heart of its mortal dream, fae prince Henry my beloved.

For Schitt's Creek there's absolutely no question: Time until the end of time, the afterlife fic I co-wrote with @ships-to-sail aka a 65,000 word treatise on grief, growth, and our effects on the people around us.

[Sleepover Saturday]

#sleepover saturday #anonymous

[robertreich]

This One Thing Would Increase Wages By $300 Billion 

There's a dirty trick many employers use to keep workers from getting a better job.

Some 30 million Americans are trapped by contracts that say if they leave their current job, they can't work for a rival company or start a new business of their own.

These are called non-compete agreements.

They block workers from seeing higher wages or better working conditions. And they enlarge corporate monopoly power by stifling competition.

But a sweeping new rule from the Federal Trade Commission would put a stop to these non-compete agreements.

The FTC estimates that banning them could increase wages by nearly $300 billion a year overall by allowing workers to pursue better job opportunities.

But non-competes aren’t just bad for workers. They also harm the economy as a whole by depriving growing businesses of the talent and experience they need to build and expand.

Experts argue California’s ban on non-competes was a major reason for Silicon Valley’s boom.

For several decades, non-compete agreements have been cropping up all over the economy — not just in high-paying fields like banking and tech but as standard boilerplate for employment contracts in many lower-wage sectors such as construction, hospitality, and retail.

A recent survey found that non-competes are used for workers in more than a quarter of jobs where the typical employee only has a high school diploma. Another found that they disproportionately impact women and people of color.

Employers say they need noncompete agreements to protect trade secrets and investments they put into growing their businesses, like training workers.

Rubbish. Employers in states that already ban these agreements (such as California) show no sign of being more reluctant to invest in their businesses or train workers.

The real purpose of noncompetes is to make it harder (or impossible) for workers to bargain with rival employers for better pay or working conditions. Workers in states that have banned non-compete agreements have seen larger wage increases and more job mobility than workers in states where they are still legal.

As we learn again and again, the economy needs guardrails — and workers deserve protection. Otherwise, unfettered greed will lead to monopolies that charge high prices and suppress wages.

America once understood the importance of fighting monopolies. Woodrow Wilson created the Federal Trade Commission in 1914 to protect the public against the powerful corporate monopolies that fueled unprecedented inequality and political corruption.

In 1976, when I ran the policy planning staff at the FTC, it began cracking down on corporations under its then assertive chairman, Michael Pertschuk.

Corporate lobbyists and their allies in Congress were so unhappy they tried to choke off the agency’s funding, briefly closing it down. Pertschuk didn’t relent, but eventually he (and I) were replaced by Ronald Reagan’s appointees, who promptly defanged the agency.

Now, under its new Biden-appointed chair, Lina Khan, the FTC is back. Its ban on non-compete agreements nationwide marks the first time since Pertschuk that the agency has flexed its muscle to issue a rule prohibiting an unfair method of competition.

The rule is hardly a sure thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the radical-right Republicans, now in control of the House, tried to pull off a stunt similar to what the House tried in the late 70s. And corporations are sure to appeal the rule all the way up to the Supreme Court.

In the meantime, kudos to Lina Khan and the FTC for protecting American workers from the unfettered greed of corporate America.

#youtube #economics #money #FTC #government #politics #video #videos

[skepticbeliever-bookclub]

Hello once again shippers & readers

As we wind down the month of January and have rung in the new year, we wanted to take a look at some fics deserving of a little attention. This round we asked our members to nominate any fic they'd love to read with under 300 kudos, and we landed on a fic set in a universe paralleling our own in a number of ways in Say You Want Me, Too by sequence_fairy

As a group, we loved the author's choice of style and unflinching look at what love and growth can do to two young people under the public eye

Rating: M

Summary:

It’s too easy, Shane thinks, to love Ryan; too easy to get caught up in the swirl and eddy of the light he projects. Too easy to lose yourself in the whirlwind of an A-list romance. Too easy to fall for who someone is on the red carpet and to find out they’re not at all the person you thought. Ryan’s not like that, though. He’s hard-working, dedicated, and devoted to his craft. Shane loves him for that and more. Loves him for the way Ryan reaches out when they’re on the red carpet and the crush of people is too intense, loves him for the way Ryan redirects the far-too-personal questions that get hurled their way when they come out into the spotlight for real. Where Shane’s career is mowing along at a steady clip, Ryan’s is a rocket rising up out of the desert. Shane knows the saying about tides, but more than anything, he just wants Ryan to succeed, and he’s thrilled to death by the meteoric lift of Ryan’s star.

Sometimes, you fall in love and it's just not the right time. Sometimes, you get a second chance.

Book Club Thoughts

it’s such a gorgeously written fic, so much story packed into a shockingly low word count I deeply love this so much, I love how free of dialogue it is, I love thr prose, I love the flow and the way it skips through time and its so romantic I could die. i think the thing that stuck with me the most was the pov. kind of…separate, chilly, almost, like it was written by an entertainment journalist I also love how [the author] write[s] them as complex characters like everyone here has depth my favorite thing about the ending is the privacy. just like with the marriage the first time around, they do without the publicity the second time. eventually, they just stop trying to hide it, but it still feels like it will be different, how much they let the public in. i just love how they are constantly revolving around each other in this and we know it's inevitable but they don't and that's why they're stupid The structure of this is so good. We know the inevitability of their divorce, the inescapable pain of their separation. We know that neither of them will find happiness with others, and it hurts. We ache for the promised happy ending as the years go by. And the whole thing is told so calmly, all we can do is be carried forward by the story, just like them.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN US FOR OUR NEXT DISCUSSION? CHECK OUT THE FAQ, AND SEND US AN ASK! IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR FIC RECS, PLEASE CHECK OUT OUR READS, NOMINEES AND BOOK CLUB REC LISTS!

#shyan #otp: we took an oath #shyan fic #read of the week #alternate universe: actors #angst with a happy ending #skeptic believer

[eoinmcgonigal]

Fic writer interview :))

Thank you @davidstirlings for the tag ^^

I'll just do this for my current ao3 account, because I can't be bothered logging into the other two, and lj and ff.net are long gone. (One had just under 300 fics on it but... eh)

How many works do you have on AO3? 215+ (107 for SAS: Rogue Heroes, lost track of some anon fics for another fandom)

What’s your total AO3 word count? 523,984

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? For Rogue Heroes: 1 - Diminished; 2 - Beat; 3 - Melody; 4 - Refrain; 5 - Transposition

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to but I'm super awkward alskjdf;adlfj

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? 'Pale Undeath' - a very short Johnny/Bill demon hunter AU thing

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? They usually have happy endings!

Do you write crossovers? I've got one, but generally no.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yeah

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yep, and all kinds with very few exceptions.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Sadly yes, and other stuff as well

Have you ever had a fic translated? I have! It was Star Wars fic though, so long ago

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Sort of? Someone edited an RP we did and posted it as fic, if that counts.

What’s your all-time favourite ship? I truly couldn't pick, but if it's not Paddy/Eoin, it'll be a niche Naruto one

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Probably Refrain (the unead Eoin one) because I need a lot more cheering on and encouraging, and no one 'wants to be a bother', so... (same with the other WIPs, which is why I try not to post them)

What are your writing strengths? Writing a lot. But not necessarily of any great quality

What are your writing weaknesses? Finishing things? I miss having a cheer-reader XD

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? A nope, with one exception. I mean, if I had to, I would provide a translation right there next to it, because I would never assume people have the same knowledge I do. The only exception was when I wrote Bill speaking in Scots, which is close enough to English and the context made it clear (and things like Johnny repeating the question in English).

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Naruto...

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? - hmm, I never posted any Master and Commander stuff, maybe that I guess

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written? How to pick???? The short 'Pale Undeath', or 'Death's Embrace' I think. There was a Tozer/Armitage (Terror) fic I never posted, but I really loved it so much, I just called it 'the button fic'.

tagging anyone who wants to do this! @revolutionarybillfraser @dukesoakedoats @regseekings @fergusfraserapologist @a-case-of-the-ace @almost-a-class-act

#tag game

[kelliealtogether]

Fic Stats Tag Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

Thank you @tinyarmedtrex for the tag! Stats are so fun! I'm a sucker for some data.

Most Hits: Boxes on the Lawn - 13,985 - On Ronan Lynch's eighteenth birthday, he makes a pact with his friend Adam Parrish: If neither of them are married by the time they turn thirty, they'll marry each other. Ronan's not hopeful it'll work out. But what if it does?

Second Most Kudos: Open Door - 583 - When Adam Parrish's mentor passes away, she leaves him a house. Well, half a house, because Roban Lynch owns the other half. Stuck under the same roof, can they learn to live with one another? Can Adam find out why Persephone left him half of the Georgetown townhouse? And can he figure out what the hell Ronan is up to in the basement?

Third Most Comments: 𝛑 - 147 - When Adam Parrish was a teenager, one of his surrogate mothers at 300 Fox Way taught him to bake as a means of stress relief. Ten years later, his boss forces him to take a leap and a loan, and Adam finds himself opening a bakery back in his hometown of Henrietta. For a long time, everyone's told Adam his baked goods are the best they've ever had. That is, until Adam meets Ronan Lynch.

Fourth Most Bookmarks: The Rocky Road to Dublin - 113 - This is a Leap Year AU. That's all you need to know. 😌

Fifth Most Words: Boxes on the Lawn - 33,966 - See above.

Least Amount of Words: Sunday Before Sunrise - 1,058 - Every Sunday morning, Declan Lynch drives two hours to go to church with his brothers.

If I remember correctly, @flightspathfic and @cheeeryos are also data nerds, so I'll tag them. And while I'm at it, I'll tag @zephfair and @audikatia.

[stiles-o-dylan24]

friendly little PSA to my fellow fic writers who also post their work on AO3:

my teen wolf rewrite, It’s Always Been You, was stolen word for word and uploaded as a kindle book to be bought on Amazon *insert all the angry expletives* The “author”, Plush Books, has 549 books in their amazon storefront page that are more than likely all stolen based on the info I received last night that led me over to a twitter thread that shed light on what’s happening.  Anyways more info to see if your book was also stolen from this “bEsTseLLiNg AuThOr” and what to do to hopefully get it removed below the cut

Here’s the amazon storefront for the literal piece of shit who stole books, I hope no one else has their work on here and if you do I’m so sorry you’re feeling the way I am.

Here’s the twitter page that was very helpful in bringing insight to what happened and the fact that this has happened before with another “author” on amazon a year ago who has since been shut down. 

Here’s the twitter thread that details what to do and say in your email to get your book taken down from Amazon. You cannot send attachments in the email to Amazon, as they state they will not open them under any circumstance, so keep that in mind and just be very detailed in your email about the proof you have ready to send them (google doc timestamps, screenshots of comments/kudos and those timestamps and so forth)

Here’s the Amazon faq answer to what happens after you submit a DMCA request

Here’s the Barnes and Noble "author” page as well, mine wasn’t here as of this posting but I’ll be checking back daily since the amount of books on this list is significantly less to what's on amazon. Here’s what you have to do to submit a claim to B&N.  

I was able to click on the book’s image in my stolen work’s listing and the first 7 chapters, and a little bit of chapter 8, were visible to read without having to actually buy the book to get more proof it’s plagiarized. I took a bunch of screenshots, along with a screenshot of the description which was copied straight from my ao3 description, to be prepared in case amazon emails me back saying they need the proof I mentioned having when I emailed my DMCA request in, so I’d suggest doing the same.

Based on a comment in the twitter thread from when this last happened apparently Amazon doesn’t really care about this and is very slow in actually doing anything to take listings down. I’m hoping that’s changed since the last person who did this had all their listings removed but in any case, in addition to emailing amazon with my DMCA request I also left a review on my actual book’s listing-- that will hopefully be posted soon-- stating how it was stolen work. I’m just so mad and I had to do something so even if the book listing never gets taken down at least that review will be there and I’ll keep sending emails and leaving reviews until it is taken down because fuck this person and anyone else like them who thinks this is ok.

Please don’t hesitate to reblog this to get the word out! There’s a lot of fandoms affected, just a few I saw were: Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Marvel, and Star Wars

if anyone wants a laugh here’s the link to IABY and the amazon book where they named it ‘It’s Always Been You: A Sisters Love’ which is just so wrong to what IABY is and created the actual WORST book cover image🙃

***********

EDIT to add that as of 19 December 2022 my stolen book has been removed from amazon along with 300 others! The barnes and noble page also no longer has any books listed from plush books which is amazing news! Keep spreading the word to get the real authors notified so the rest of the stolen works can be removed as well!

#stolen fanfiction #fanfiction #plagiarism #plagiarized fanfiction #plush books #ao3 #psa #copyright #plagiarizing is not it #do not steal fics #that are meant for free enjoyment #and upload it onto amazon and barnes and noble to be bought #fan fiction is free #and authors are to be cherished #not kicked in the face #as you steal their work #thank you for coming to my ted talk #also going to queue this

[tllgrrl]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @missamyshay !! Sorry for the delay. Some of these questions were hard to answer, so I ran away, then came back, and ran away, and I apologize for the ramblings.

If anyone has any questions/asks, feel free to…well…ask.

* * * * *

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

70 (Note: Many, of them well under 1K words and one shots. When something starts on Tumblr, it pretty much also goes over to AO3. Even drabbles.)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

163,518

3. What Fandoms do you write for?

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier - Marvel Cinematic Universe

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. One Quarter of a Year, 2. Language Lessons, 3. Welcome Home (the sequel to One Quarter of a Year), 4. A Front Yard Situation, 5. Bucky, Cass, and the King of Mardi Gras

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I don’t always immediately respond, but I eventually do. Why respond? Because I’m already surprised that anyone reads a thing I wrote. No one is required to leave a comment. They can read and go on to the next, and they do. But if someone reads something I wrote, and wants to tell me that something about it made them want to tell me about it what they liked or what touched them and/or ask a question, or in one case complain about it? It’s an amazing thing to me, so much so that a comment always sends me back to read WTF I could have possibly written that made someone feel this.

6. What is a fic you write with the angstiest ending?

I haven’t written one with an angsty ending. Yet.

7. What’s the fic you write with the happiest ending?

Hmmm…lemme think…

They’re all pretty happy, I think, but the most hopeful, heartfelt ending I think is at the end of Ndinawe when Sarah walks out of the therapist’s office building after her first ever session post-Snap/post-Return, and finds Bucky waiting for her with a little bunch of flowers.

I will leave it to readers to tell me what they think my happiest ending would be.

8. Do you get hate on fics.

There’s that one time someone liked, but complained about 6 words (2 short phrases) in a 300 word ficlet/triple drabble where Sarah and Bucky are in a very quiet and intimate moment, and he says something to her in isiXhosa, which we know he speaks. Then he says it in English, and then in Kreyol, which, in my headcanon, Sarah learned from her parents, who spoke Haitian Creole (Darlene’s family) and Louisiana Creole (Paul’s family). Because Louisiana.

This person was annoyed and couldn’t understand why anything other than English was being spoken even though the translation is in the story and a little Glossary is in the notes..

And when I tried to explain why I chose that and that in canon, Bucky and Sam both speak more than one language, the person commented back that didn’t want to read an explanation…which is why I wrote one anyway.

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

I write erotica. To my mind, smut is different. And I don’t like the word “smut’. Like how some people don’t like the word “moist”.

I write two middle-aged grownup adult people for whom Communication is important. Even if things are difficult or awkward, they still at least try.

Also, they’re perfectly able and willing to grab a Quickie, and I’ve written at least one Quickie, but in my stories so far, like to take their time when they have the opportunity. Someone once described it as making love “like adults: long, slow, luxurious”.

I think that’s the kind I write.

Maybe that didn’t describe the kind of “smut” I write. If anyone can describe it to me, please do!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not yet. But I do have something in mind.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of and I hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of, but I would actually like to try to do that myself with help from Google Translate, Language Tutorials on YouTube, and the assistance of native speakers.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!! Bucky, Cass, and the King of Mardi Gras co-written with The @btwxsixesandsevens. The Paul & Darlene Ship Logs is a A Talk Like a Pirate Day day-long speed write, where @btwxsixesandsevens, wrote Bucky’s Journal entries and I wrote Captain Sarah Wilson’s personal ship logs. And also Snitches which was born from a funny “what would happen if” conversation with @shellyac75. I asked if I could embellish it, stretched it out and make a fic, and was given permission to play.

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

Bucky Barnes & Sarah Wilson (aka SarahBucky or BuckySarah) from the minute Bucky made it a point to let Sarah know that he was there, and he saw her. And she saw him, right back.

That having been said, if I’d known, when I was a kid, that I could make up my own stories about characters I liked, there is one ship that I would have filled my PeeChee notebooks with: Lt. Nyota Uhura & Spock. Yes, long before JJ Abrams made them a thing, I, in my tweeny brain, felt like something was possible there with those two. Nurse Chapel be damned.

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

I don’t have one of those. I have a couple of Finished For Now stories that I have plans to revisit and continue, though. They’re not WIPs though. Plus, I’d never not finish a story.

16. What are your writing strengths.

Beats me. Someone who knows about writing techniques will have to tell me. I have been told that when reading my stories, a reader can see where they are and what’s happening.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I overthink and I think I get in the weeds when I write. I’m hyper critical, so I find fault with everything I write. Someone else will have to tell me what my weaknesses are in my writing. I know what they are in my process.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic.

(See #12j I’m not afraid of it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The only fandom I’ve written for: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

That having been said, I may have inadvertently written a drabble/ficlet/thing as an answer to a question that was posed in a Firefly forum on Ravelry (a multi-use community website for knitters and crocheters) probably 20 years ago. People enjoyed it and one commenter said I should write fan fiction, which, at the time, I thought was ridiculous. If I can find it, I may post it on AO3 for shiggles, though the show is long gone. (I know that there are still Browncoats around.)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written.

This is a really hard question because I find fault with every thing I’ve written. Every single thing. And my answer can change sometimes a couple of times during the span of a day!

I’d rather people tell me their favourite, and why, (Soft suggestion: Please feel free!!) but if I had to pick one today right now:

One Quarter of a Year / Welcome Home

I consider these two a single story that has yet to be joined on AO3.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Whew.

I am soft tagging @khululekile , @philtstone , @btwxsixesandsevens , @spinachgarden, @sarifinasnightmare and anyone who wants to jump in and play. Come on in! (If you’ve already been tagged, apologies! )

#asks answered #asks

[joyflameball]

Honestly at this point those "Ugh I wanna leave a second kudos Ao3 should let me leave a second kudos" posts just fucking infuriate me. There's an easy fucking option there. It is RIGHT under the kudos. Writers have been saying for ages, comments are better, comments mean everything, comments mean more to me than kudos. A simple "This is a great fic and I really like it" means so much more than a number going up. A bunch of kudos is literally just a big number. A comment is someone telling me that they liked my fic. It's proof that I'm actually BEING HEARD. My fic with the most kudos- one that I impulse wrote at three AM without sending to my beta reader or anything- has 300 kudos and THIRTY COMMENTS. For every TEN people reading my fic and leaving kudos, I get ONE person telling me what the fic MEANT to them. I get ONE person telling me they liked my fic. I get ONE person telling me that my fic made them feel something. Do you fucking know what that's like?? I'm currently trying to write a three-chapter fic, and chapter ONE is taking ages for me to actually write, but I fucking know that this could take me a whole year to write, and I will get fucking NOTHING. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, I am screaming into the void. There was a time I burnt out for five months, and when I finally worked up the energy to write something, it got a tiny response. A TINY response. After BURNING OUT, and FINALLY being able to write something, I got NOTHING. So hearing people say "Man I wish I could leave a second kudos" is fucking INFURIATING. THE COMMENT BOX IS RIGHT THERE. JUST LEAVE A COMMENT. WRITERS WANT COMMENTS. WE DON'T WANT A BIG NUMBER, WE WANT A RESPONSE. WE WANT TO COMMUNICATE WITH OTHER PEOPLE. WE HAVE FUCKING TOLD YOU THIS, OVER AND OVER AND OVER, AND YET NO ONE EVER LISTENS. "OUhghh I wanna leave more kudos" LEAVE A FUCKING COMMENT. WRITERS QUIT BECAUSE THEY GET NO FEEDBACK. GIVE YOUR FUCKING WRITERS FEEDBACK OR GO FUCK YOURSELF

tldr: if you want to leave more kudos leave a fucking comment

#cassie rambles #ao3 #ao3 comments #ao3 etiquette #commenting #i'm fucking pissed rn

[aserene]

Winxsource Bingo

WinxSource Bingo

Make a rec post of 3 pieces you made and that you loved tolerate

Instead of going straight to my top 3 fics, I borrowed @fitztragedy's idea of mixing it with the "with less than ..." slots so these are some of my works that aren't as known but I still adore them:

A fic with only 1 chapter: Spider, spider in the tree Tell me how it ends- This is one of my lowest hit stories, but honestly one of the first stories I started writing in the Fate fandom. Time-Travel Fix it Under a hundred hits, it's from Saul's POV and there was another that was more popular from Farah's.

A fic with less than 300 hits: Coffeeshop Chatter (NCIS) I friggin adore this story. Elflordsmistress and I crafted this one together when I couldn't get it out of my head... Although if it has to be Fate based then... Let me tell you a tail -- Part of My Farah and the Caturday series because I have issues with prompts sometimes.

A fic with less than 50 kudos: Do You Remember? (NCIS), I don't even remember why I wrote this one, I think I just thought the song suited them... and Fate related A Demon and A Fairy Sat Drinking ---Give me a show with strong women and a young charge and I've got you covered.

A Fic with less than 10 comments: A road so rough this I know- I didn't like this story when I wrote it, but it has nearly 500 hits, 35 kudos, and zero comments. A very short insight into fetching back Beatrix and Bloom when they road trip to Aster Dell.

And now, my bingo card update:

#winxsource #winxsourcebingo #silrah #jibbs #signal boost

[luminescent-chorus]

Bingo card for @thehighfiveproject 

old fic :  Hit the ground crawling by jonny_vrm (sam/dean) How Dean could have been after returning from Hell, how his relationship with Sam could have played out. They are both frustrating at times here but it contributes to the atmosphere of the fic in which nothing comes easy.

-

fandom classic :  Squint into the sunset by @dyed-red (sam/dean) It’s such a good story : uncompromising, so full of emotion and just so beautifully done. It’s an unmissable work for a reason.

-

underrated fave : Touch  me like a razor blade by @a-deed-without-a-name (sam/dean) This fic is not only well-written but has also a very original concept. Here is the summary : ‘For as long as he can remember, sins have caused Dean physical pain. Like, for example, murder. Or lust. Or incest’. I like the explanation about why he’s like that and the solution found to deal with his condition. I like the character study the premise allows. I like everything about this fic. 

-

< 1000 hits/ < 100 kudos : I’ll rec not one but two of @folsomprisonblues’ fics because they are, without a doubt, the stories that impacted me the most in the last few months.

Semper fidelis (gen) : pre-series about John during the Vietnam war, about the traumatic events he experienced.

Desiderium (gen) : post-15x20, Sam trying to carry on after Dean. This fic hurts but is ultimately a wonderful reflection about love and grief.

-

free square : Yesterday is a ghost I believe in by @venhedish (sam/dean) 

If you haven’t to done it yet, go discover what’s in the box Sam keeps under his bed, the memories he holds on to. It’s visually gorgeous and the story that unfolds sweet.

-

< 1000 words : Cracked by Linden (sam/dean) An heartbreak in less than 300 words.

-

> 1000 words : Odysseus, American by @coyotesuspect (sam/dean)

A beautiful fic set during the Stanford era. I feel like no summary can do it justice. The love, the wandering, the longing depicted must be experienced firsthand.

#thehighfiveproject #i didn’t have the time to read new fics recently and it shows 😬😬 #fic recs #wincest #gencest

[walls-actual-ly]

Hello hello, this is Alune and Aphelios fic fanmail, now straight into the inbox because I'm too shy to comment on AO3. Your fic is wonderfully written! The way you wrote Aphelios truly moved me, his emotions are impactful. My favorite chapters were chapters 4-5, I loved the interaction with Yone the most (even if all of them were great, from caring Ezreal to resolute Alune. Writing Alune this way was also definitely a good choice). Please keep on writing even if this is rarepair hell, know there is a public and you're feeding them well!

omg thank you so much!!!!!! and i m really glad that you liked the interactions with yone, i was a bit uncertain if giving him some spotlight might be "too much"., so i m super glad you liked them!

like god i love them, i their pain and love just, fuck, they have a grip on my heart! and since i m a poly shipper i can just smash everyone together and let them smash each other <3

and tbh its not even that much of a rarepair, some of my star wars fanfics have much, much worse ratings! like, the fic has over 1000 hits, while some of my star wars fanfics that i even wrote for events sit under 300 haha the 5000 hits and over 250 kudos on "Lost Boys (found)" just spoiled me rotten :D

btw new chapter out now, i ve had it ready for a few days but forgot to post it... thanks for reminding me ;) and if you wanna chat some more about them, my DMs are open! <3

#lunaricest #aphelios x alune #i guess since its so rare i can tag it like this haha #anyway i love to make fandom friends go hmu!

[bnomiko]

Castlevania fanfiction: “Under the Milky Way” ch. 18

*whispers* He's baaack...

Under the Milky Way - Chapter 18 - bnomiko - 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series [Archive of Our Own]

And as a bonus: THANK YOU to my readers for 300 Kudos on AO3!

#castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #fanfiction #trephacard #sypha x alucard #alucard castlevania #adrian tepes #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #castlevania netflix #castlevania fanart #fanart #ao3 kudos

[chut-je-dors]

gotta say, I sometimes wonder if I should delete my tumblr and disappear, in a way that I'd still be on tumblr, just without anyone knowing it's good ole Chut. Still be writing and such, but... quietly. It's the weight of knowing there are a ton of people waiting for the next chapter of my fics, and I can't shake the... pressure I get from all of that. God, I love everyone's comments and kudos as much as any writer, and writing stories that so many seem to love, but there's just so much pressure in it as well. If I post a new fic, people will go "oh Chut posted something new, it's gonna be goooood" and with that presumption I can't write anything but good. Over and over again I seem to manage to create something people praise, without really seeing the greatness myself. I guess it's part impostor syndrome - I'm still waiting for when people realise I really am not that good a writer, even though I'm gradually learning to ignore the perfectionist in me.

All in all, sometimes I think it would be easier to shake off the follower count, and just blog for myself. I've learnt the hard way to not share much of my opinions here, since it'll get noticed. I love receiving asks, but i often forget answering them straight away and then there are 300 of them and then I feel bad for not answering them - and if Chut didn't have a tumblr (that people know about), I couldn't disappoint anyone in that way. Does that make any sense?

Chut-je-dors is a name that's known by most who read mclennon fics (?) and it's just, it's a lot. I also sometimes wonder what would happen if I wrote under a different pseudonym. The fic wouldn't probably get that many hits, since I'm pretty sure half of the hits in my fics are because I'm a "popular" writer. It would be liberating I think - no pressure of delivering anything that fits the "Chut-je-dors" box. I miss the days of writing the Hot Mechanic, with no rules, no pressure over the quality of writing or storytelling - just plain wackiness with no predecessor. Now, when I'm writing The Hot Spot, it has to live up to the other entries in the Hot Series. There's a lack of freedom in it - the text has to be funny, whereas before it was funny because I was completely unhinged, and had an absolute blast, and had absolutely no plans. No one knew me, and didn't base their opinions of THM on how I've "once again" delivered "such an amazing fic" etc. People like THM because of the fic itself.

The more popular and "good" fics I write, the more the pressure to deliver what people expect from my fics grows.

(And don't get me wrong, I want to write good and deliver good stuff, for my own sake as well. I love writing, and I love writing stuff I can read a year after and go "ahh this is good stuff". But the pressure of writing well for other people's sake overshadows the desire to write just for myself.)

(A part of all this is the language gap, cos my god, I write good in English but I write so much better in Finnish, and I'm always aware of what my text is lacking in English. Maybe I should write the fics in Finnish and translate them to English afterwards but lads, imagine the Work)

(After I lost my home in a house fire in 2020, and suffered a burnout and depression etc. all that stuff, the quality of my writing understandably dipped, and someone immediately noticed it and commented on it. Well, I've struggled with writing ever since. Always second-guessing whether what I'm writing is good, because I don't want to - or can - let my readers down. And now, I rarely write anymore, partly due to not having enough time, partly because I never feel like I'm doing good enough. I can take criticism, it's not about that - it's a comment that hit me hard at a point where I was just trying to produce text, any text, despite how hard it was, struggling with the trauma left by me losing all of my belongings, and knowing the writing wasn't probably good enough, but deciding to post still just to give people something, and then that comment - it hit right in the spot of insecurity that then manifested fully, and now whatever I write I feel it doesn't live up to, say 2019 writings. And thus I can't write at all, crippled by that insecurity.)

So yeah. Sounds probably silly, me whining away that "I'm too popular as a writer" but... well. Well. It's been 10 years since THM came out. Ten fucken years! It was the second fic I wrote under Chut-je-dors (the first being ThighGHGHGS, an absolute Legend of a fic written by an unhinged 15 year old) and I'm still partly trying to live up to it. THM cemented me as a popular mclennon author in this fandom, and I've had to live up to that mantel ever since with everything I write. Ten years!

(There's no point in any of this, no set resolution, I'm just rambling some thoughts away into the tumblr void)

(Don't get me wrong: I love each and every comment I receive and I'm so thankful people like my fics. These are issues that live inside my head, and they don't affect the gratitude I have that people still, after all these years, love my fics. That's all an author could ask for. Perhaps that is the core of the issue; I love making you guys happy with my fics, so much that I can't bear the thought of giving you something below my usual level of writing. Hm, a double-edged sword)

Anyway. That's some thoughts for now!

#oops this is longer than I thought #also ramblier #whoops #oh well #Very Open For Further Discussion #cjd rambles #choo choo all aboard the chut insecurity train #I'm not rereading this. press enter and send. #as they say.... yolo