#hes so articulate with it and like i guess confident that it makes me feel like

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

FIRST, SUGAR. 18+

pairing. raymond smith x fem!reader word count. 1932 summary. ray's mindless touches on your thigh while you read begin to catch up with you, though he's too busy working to realise. so he offers you a promise, "if you can give me twenty minutes. I'll fuck you for twice as long." warnings. 18+ only! general filth, little bit of fingering, pinv, horny writer's thought pls excuse me. mdni > I know this will not get read bc he's not popular anymore but I needed to get it out of my system (he's still not out my system btw, it’s a sickness. help!)

⎯ ☆ ⎯

It’s quiet, the evening calm. The only sounds coming from the crackle of the fireplace and soft, steady breaths. Both yours and Ray’s attention obtained by your individual papers in hand: yours, a book, and in Raymond’s, a stack of papers he’s been asked to look over. 

The feel of it all so comfortable, so familiar. 

The backs of your thighs horizontally rest over his, lounging across him with your back propped against the arm of the sofa — your new read held close to your face. Ray’s seated position remains close, tucked to you like you are to him. Nestled into one another casually.

His feet sit on the coffee table ahead, one hand clutching the pile of papers, his other resting over your thigh, touch mindless as he grazes your bare skin. The careful caress simply an absentminded act, an act of spontaneous, unprompted protection maybe. His focus fully engrossed in a page of nothing but information and numbers. 

Though to you, it wasn’t just nothing. Ray’s thoughtless touches act as a distraction to you, each stroke and brush and graze pulling your attention further and further away from your story until all that remains are muddled, merged sentences. The plot lost to you by now.

And so you peek at him over your book, gaze focused and almost delirious as you watch him, completely unaware of your lusty set of eyes. You observe him, vision fixed on his casual grip on you: ringed pinky and large, veiny hand perched upon your skin like it’s where it belonged. Everything about it so confident, so manly. Cardigan woven with wool and residual notes of whiskey and cigarettes — like it was a fortuitous, accidental representation as to who he is: gentle and virile.

You quietly pay attention to the way he works, his glasses resting atop his nose as he skims the page — his articulate, precise nature urging him to comprehend everything written. His heed to detail being one of the things most attractive about him. And yet, he had no idea what he was doing to you. Sat there, utterly unaware of his power.

Though that changes as your breathing grows inadvertently heavy, a sudden sharp inhale from you makes his neck snap to follow the sound. His eyes now focused on yours over your novel, a slight quirk in his brow as if to analyse you.

Your expression —or the top half, what he can see— is blissed, pained even. These last thirty-some minutes of gentle grazing begin to catch up with you.

He hums shortly, the noise an attempt to scope you out, though by now there’s no need for connecting dots or guessing — all evidence as clear as day. He looks down to his palm just above your knee, your thighs pressed tight together in an effort to alleviate some of the pressure you feel between them.

He uncrosses his ankles on the coffee table and leans forward, placing the stack of papers beside his whiskey tumbler. Ray clears his throat in his fist, a sly, faint smile forming behind his hand as if he’s debating with himself. His eyes drift down to the hand on your lower thigh, gaze following the ever so slow tail as he itches under your robe.

“You didn’t want to disturb me, did you?” Raymond questions, eyes pleased and proud as they flicker up to you.

“No,” you murmur with a faint shake of the head, voice catching in your throat as you watch. 

His fingers move inwards and under your nightdress, slotting between your thighs as if to separate them — his hand protruding through both thin layers of fabric. 

“So patient of you,” he teases, tilting his head forward, peering at you over the top of his glasses. “Must’ve been agony.”

It was. It really was.

With his spare hand, he reaches for your book and takes it from your hold — placing it open and faced down beside his papers to keep your space. He pulls back to sit in his original position, feet now planted on the floor, knees apart in a manspread. He taps at his thigh, running a hand down the beef of it like he was beckoning you, summoning you almost. 

“Come on,” he whispers, the instruction soft as he gestures you along. He taps at it again and rolls his hips underneath himself to reposition — preparing for you.

With an excited giggle, you do as asked, finally about to get what you want after all of his mindless teasing. You situate yourself over his lap, knees either side of his thighs as you use his shoulders for your support — keeping you up right. His eyes fix on you above, watching the antsy knitting and curving of your brows.

He spreads his arms either side along the back of the leather chesterfield, maintaining his dominance while he lets you take the lead. Or so he lets you think.

You reach between yourselves, your fingers hurriedly finicking with his belt, urging him out of his trousers. Your too quick movements stall your attempts, and you huff, the sound more similar to a whimper than anything else. 

His head cocks, amused, watching you fiddle with the buckle. Watching you fail with the buckle.

He lifts a hand from its spot behind the sofa, redirecting it to your cheek — palm large and warm as he cups the side of your face, making you look at him. Ray’s touch glides backwards to behind your neck, thumb resting over your ear as he urges you closer. Pulling you inwards. 

“Give me some sugar first.”

You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before moving away, trying to move away. Though he has other plans. His hold firm behind your neck to keep you there — bringing you back in so he could return the kiss. His beard skims at your chin as he deepens and roughens the kiss, intensifying the moment.

Though his dick is not yet hard, the presence of him is just as noticeable as if it were. The faint brushes of his big, thick cock through his trousers sends your mind into a tizzy. All your bodily responses become all the more evident, as if you’re betraying yourself. 

And with your attention consumed by the way he kisses you, he’s slipping his other hand between you both, reaching between your thighs. He itches a finger to skim down your cunt and you jolt, his touch catching you by surprise. You moan into his mouth, the sound stifled and muffled, before you pull away.

You look down to watch, but your view is obstructed by your fabric pooling around your thighs. And then he clicks his tongue, eyes still boring on your face. You follow the noise, looking back up and he nods slowly, wordlessly praising you for following along.

With your gaze fixed on his, he’s hooking his finger into the elastic of your underwear, parting it aside within his very skilled hand. He trails down your slit, all arousal noticeable when he’s met with no resistance, the slick of your cunt granting him easy access to toy with you.

He raises a brow, both satisfied and impressed. His touch remains light as he brushes the pad of his middle finger downwards, circling your entrance briefly before he’s slipping inside your cunt. 

It was something, but not enough. Nowhere close to being enough.

You wrap your arms around his neck, mouth grazing his with the closeness. 

“More,” you utter against his lips, a slight whine to your voice. “Another.”

Your hips wind involuntarily, like you’re preemptively chasing after something — anticipating it. The feel of a lone finger is far from what you needed to satiate the gaping want.

“Another what?” he speaks into your mouth, a twinge of whiskey being tasted on his tongue. He knew what he was doing, and he was abusing his power over you. “You’re a smart girl. Tell me.”

“Finger. Another finger,” you plead. Your answer is quick, like you thought the speed of your response will get you what you want faster.

He tuts quietly, lips brushing against yours as he shakes his head. 

All you can respond with is a whinge, a frustrated whinge at that and your hips still. The sensation of his finger being withdrawn from you. You mumble a faint, “What?” when you feel his hand part from behind your head, the one near your cunt too.

And then his hands drop to his lap, placing them between your thighs as he unfastens his belt — the jingling sound of the metal making your eyes widen, lighten almost. His hips raise underneath you as he tugs on the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down just enough to comfortably reach into his boxers.

He wraps a hand around himself and brings his cock out over the top, fisted grip tight as he gives it a few pumps — polishing his head as if to ready himself. With his other hand, he’s bunching the fabric of your garments, holding them up so he could guide himself closer to your cunt underneath. 

He knocks his head at your clit just to see and hear and feel you shudder, a response he often loved from you. And so with you right where he wants you, right at the edge, he’s lining up with you — his eyes fixed on yours like it's all coming from a place of muscle memory, not needing sight to know what he’s doing.

Ray presses the tip of his dick against your pussy, the shape of his head kissing at your entrance so perfectly. And when he feels like you’ve suffered enough, he’s feeding himself into you, filling you from underneath as you lower down — meeting him halfway.

Strength in your neck dissipates, your forehead collapsing against his as you inhale shakily, taking all of him until nothing remains. His balls pressing up against your cunt’s lips like you’re sitting on them. 

You lean in to kiss him while you give yourself a moment to reaccustom to him, familiarising with the thick feel of his cock. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel him bump up into you, a small jut upwards knocking the air out your lungs.

With himself wedged fully inside, he moves a hand to your throat, lightly holding under your jaw. There’s no pressure behind his touch, simply the presence there to guide you, to feel you. He keeps his mouth to yours, swallowing the little gasps you make and he tests the waters once more — adjusting his hips, pushing himself up into you entirely. The full weight of you perched upon his lap, sat on his dick.

“This what you wanted?” he murmurs, speaking against your lips.

You nod. Blissed, hazy eyes doing the talking for you as if you’ve suddenly become incapable of speaking. 

Ray runs his spare hand behind you and to the cheek of your ass, palm resting over the satin fabric as he guides you — ushering your hips forward to grind over him. Though the presence of his touch is short-lived as he reaches forward, collecting his papers from before.

With his hand on your jaw, he brings you inwards, tucking your face into his neck. He brings the papers in his view, holding the stack just to the side of you.

“If you can give me twenty minutes to finish this” he says, voice soft beside you. “I’ll fuck you for twice as long,” Ray whispers, his words a promise.

Raymond Smith is a man of his word.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[mariasont]

hiii! I read your last spencer one shot AND I LOVED IT! IT WAS SO SWEET AND YOU'RE SO TALENTED!! Would you write something about post prison reid and shy reader? I was thinking of her as the media liaison (in my mind she is old-fashioned in music and clothes I'd wear skirts everyday, her emotional intelligence makes her good at her job, despite her shyness). Maybe she's clumsy, especially when she gets nervous and more especially (I don't even know if that's grammatically correct) when she's around Spencer.

Thank you so much for reading this, you're doing an EXCELLENT job, your works are a masterpiece!! 💕💖💝💓💓💖💞💕💖💓

Make a Wish - S.R

a/n: eekkkkkk post-prison spencer reid has me in a CHOKEHOLD! thank you so much for requesting, i'm so sorry for the delay! i hope i did your request justice!! I LOVE LOVE YOU!

masterlist

pairings: post prison!spencer reid x shy!reader

wc: 0.9k

You had been meaning to give the reports fastened in your hands to Spencer for give-or-take two hours now. Each time you gathered the courage to approach him, just one glance, one simple stupid glance from those piercing eyes set your nerves on fire and sent your brain in overdrive.

As the new media liaison from the narcotics unit, you were warned about the BAU's intimidating figures, particularly Rossi and Emily. However, no warning came regarding Spencer Reid. They mentioned his tendencies for long-winded explanations and awkward social interactions but not the aura of intensity he exuded. Whenever he entered a room, you instinctively started looking for an exit, not because of his criminal record, but because you found yourself hopelessly mesmerized by him.

He was perfect in every sense of the word—brilliant, compassionate, selfless, and an exceptional agent. At least, this is what you had observed from afar. A part of you was scared that any real interaction with him would shatter the idyllic image you had crafted in your head, and you weren't confident you were prepared for such disillusionment. However, you needed to give him these damn papers, dreading the alternative, which was getting summoned to Emily's office.

"Hi."

You did it, okay, first step complete. You opened your mouth, determined to get out the next part you had practiced a little over twenty times in your head, but the words seemed to dissipate into a misty fog in your brain.

"Um, these are for you," you said, rocking back onto the balls of your mary janes, placing the report on his desk. "It's the Henderson lie detector test transcript?"

"Is it?"

You realized you had said it like a question.

You paused, the part of your brain stuttering for a second, trying to flip over the thousands of scenarios you had rehearsed in your head for this interaction. None of them had included those words.

Just a little off script and you felt your fight or flight kick in—nails digging into your palms as you avoided eye contact.

"Yes." A little more confident this time, not by much, and it quickly deflated as you second guessed yourself, stepping closer to peer over his shoulder at the document. "At least I think."

"I'm just messing with you, it is." He said, eyes flickering down to the document, then to you. "You okay?"

"M-Me? Okay? Yeah, of course." The words were stumbling out of your mouth at a rate that was hard to keep up with. "Do I not look okay?"

"No, of course you look okay," he responded, brows knitting together as his gaze traveled down your body, no doubt dissecting your every thought. "You just seem... a bit nervous."

You opened your mouth, aiming to articulate a coherent thought, but it fell short and was quickly interrupted by Spencer.

He suddenly leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, hold still; you have an eyelash."

He was so close, you swore you feel his breath on your cheeks, instantly warming them. Your body was in overdrive, trying to recalibrate as his finger grazed the area under your right eye. You closed your eyes, almost unwillingly, relishing in the unexpected touch.

This was weird. Every nerve in your body was on high alert, and you balled your hand into a fist, attempting to mask the way you were shaking.

The sound of your name snapped you out of your daze. Your eyes followed suit, meeting Spencer's prying eyes. His finger was raised, your eyelash perched on the tip. Your face could have been a furnace, flames of heat spreading from your neck to your nose.

"Do you want to make a wish?"

He looked at you expectantly, eyes darting from your face to his raised pointer finger.

"Okay."

You closed your eyes, forming the wish in your mind before blowing on the lash. You watched it float to the ground, settling gently on the toe of Spencer's shoe. 

"What did you wish for?"

"I feel like I'm not supposed to tell you that," you say, pulling at the ends of your hair.

He was undeniably good-looking. It wasn't like you were just realizing it; you had eyes and you were only human. But up close, you could see every detail—the dark circles under his eyes, the rough stubble under his jaw.

"I think you're right."

The sudden intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat. You stepped back, nodding at his words and also nothing in particular.

"Anyway, yeah, those are the papers—," you began, turning to walk away. As you did, you bumped your hip into the desk beside you, hissing under your breath in response.

"Christ, are you okay?" His hand was on your hip as the words came out of his mouth.

The touch only seemed to intensify your embarrassment. You stepped out of his grip, dropping your phone as you did which you quickly bent down to pick up.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine, just forgot I have a meeting with Emily, so I'm just gonna—," you pointed towards her office, quickly making your escape from Spencer as you tried to catch your breath.

Once you were a distance you deemed safe enough, you allowed yourself a quick glance back at him. He was smirking, and you felt that all familiar heat rising into your chest once again.

You really hoped that wish would kick in soon.

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[velvetvisionsaurora]

Synopsis: When talented producer Y/n (known professionally as the mysterious "Celeste") accepts a position at JYP Entertainment to help Stray Kids with their comeback, she expects to focus solely on creating music. What she doesn't expect is the immediate connection she feels with Han Jisung—the group's quick-witted, sensitive rapper and producer who's been following her career from afar.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Heartbreak

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist

Chapter 2: Musical Chemistry

The morning sun streamed through the windows of the production studio as you settled into your chair, coffee in hand. This would be your first real day working with 3RACHA, and despite your years of experience, a flutter of anticipation danced in your stomach. You'd spent half the night reviewing their previous albums, making notes on their production style and sonic signatures

Your dorm was still mostly unpacked boxes—jet lag had kept you up until the early hours—but you'd managed to set up your essential equipment. A mini keyboard, your laptop, and a small notebook where you jotted production ideas in your distinct shorthand.

The studio door opened, and Chan walked in first, followed by Changbin and then Han, who seemed to hesitate slightly at the threshold when he saw you.

"Morning, Y/n," Chan greeted with a warm smile. "Hope you're settled in okay?"

"Getting there," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "Still on LA time, but I'll adjust."

Changbin dropped into the chair next to you with casual confidence. "Welcome to the chaos," he said with a grin. "Fair warning—once we get going, we might forget basic human needs like food and sleep."

You laughed. "Sounds familiar. I've been known to lose track of time in the studio too."

"A woman after our own hearts," Chan said, booting up the main computer. "So, I thought we could start by sharing some ideas for the overall sound direction of this comeback."

You nodded, pulling up your notes. "I've been thinking about that. Your last album had a very distinct electronic edge, but I wondered if you'd considered incorporating more organic elements this time? Maybe some live instruments layered with your signature beats?"

Chan's eyes lit up. "That's exactly what I was thinking. I've been experimenting with some guitar samples—"

"—combined with those deep 808s you use in your bridge sections," you finished, excitement building. "It would create this beautiful tension between natural and synthetic."

The three men stared at you for a moment, and you wondered if you'd overstepped somehow.

"That's..." Chan started.

"...exactly what we wrote in our concept proposal," Changbin finished, looking impressed.

You felt a flush of pleasure at hitting the mark. "Great minds, I guess."

"I had this idea," Han said suddenly, speaking directly to you for the first time, his initial shyness seeming to evaporate as he leaned forward in his chair. "What if we use those organic elements, but process them until they're almost unrecognizable, then gradually reveal their natural form throughout the song? Like a transformation narrative within the production itself?"

Your eyes widened. "That's brilliant, Han. It would mirror the lyrical themes of revelation and authenticity that run through a lot of your work."

Han's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight. "You noticed that theme in our lyrics?"

"Of course," you said, scrunching your nose slightly as you concentrated on articulating your thoughts. "Your writing has this fascinating duality—confidence and vulnerability existing in the same space. I thought it could be interesting to echo that in the production."

---

Han felt a surge of warmth spread through his chest. You had actually analyzed his lyrics, understood the themes he wove through his writing. More than that, you were suggesting a production approach that would complement and enhance those themes.

"Let me show you something," he said, overcome with a sudden boldness that surprised even himself. He moved to the keyboard, fingers hovering over the keys for a moment before playing a haunting progression—minor chords that gradually opened into something more hopeful.

"I've been playing with this for the title track. It's not finished, but—"

"—it needs a counter melody that creates tension," you said, sliding your chair next to his.

Han nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! I was thinking something that rises while the bass line descends."

Without hesitation, you reached over and played a simple but effective melody that wove perfectly through his chord progression, your hands briefly sharing the keyboard with his, careful not to touch but moving in a synchronized dance.

The small studio seemed to fade away as the music filled the space. Han added a variation, you responded with an adjustment, and within minutes, they had the skeleton of something that made Chan and Changbin exchange meaningful glances.

"Well," Changbin said, breaking the spell with an amused smile, "I guess we can go home. Seems like you two have got this covered."

Chan laughed. "I've never seen Han click with someone musically this fast. It usually takes him weeks to let someone else touch his compositions."

Han felt his ears grow hot. "It's just—she understood where I was going with it."

"He's right," you said, and Han felt a ridiculous amount of gratitude for your support. "It's a beautiful progression, Han. I just heard what it was asking for."

"Music soulmates," Changbin declared with dramatic emphasis, making heart shapes with his hands. "You find someone who finishes your musical sentences, you never let them go."

"Shut up," Han muttered, but there was no real annoyance behind it. The truth was, he'd never experienced this level of immediate creative chemistry with anyone outside of 3RACHA, and even that had taken time to develop.

"Let's record what you just did before we lose it," Chan suggested, always the practical producer.

As they set up the microphones and prepared to capture the impromptu composition, Han kept stealing glances at you. You moved around the studio with confident familiarity, adjusting settings and suggesting microphone placements as if you'd been working with them for years instead of hours.

Han tried to focus on the music, but he couldn't help noticing the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were thinking, or how you hummed softly under your breath when listening to playback. Small details that shouldn't matter but somehow made his heart beat faster.

"Earth to Han," Changbin's voice broke through his thoughts. "We're ready to record. Unless you'd rather keep staring..."

Han shot Changbin a warning look, grateful that you were absorbed in adjusting a microphone and hadn't heard. He needed to get it together. This was professional. The connection he felt was musical, nothing more.

But as the day progressed and they built on that initial spark, crafting what might be the foundation of their title track, Han couldn't deny the truth to himself: there was something about you that resonated with him on a level beyond music.

---

By late afternoon, the studio was littered with empty coffee cups and the digital workstation was filled with promising audio tracks. You stretched your arms above your head, finally registering the stiffness in your shoulders from hours of intense focus.

"I think we've earned a break," Chan declared, checking the time. "The others should be done with dance practice. Why don't we grab dinner with them?"

You nodded eagerly, suddenly aware of your empty stomach. "That sounds perfect. I could use some real food. I've been living on airplane snacks and hotel breakfast."

"Can't have our new producer starving on her second day," Changbin said, saving the day's work with practiced efficiency. "There's a great Korean barbecue place nearby. Have you had much Korean food?"

"Some," you replied, gathering your things. "But I'm always up for recommendations."

As you all left the studio, you found yourself walking beside Han, who seemed more relaxed than he had been yesterday, though still not entirely at ease.

"The chord progression you came up with," you said, breaking the comfortable silence between you. "It reminded me of something Debussy might write, if he were making hip-hop beats."

Han's eyes widened. "That's exactly what I was going for! I've been studying classical impressionism and thinking about how to incorporate those emotional textures into our sound."

"It's effective," you said sincerely. "Creates this dreamy quality while still maintaining the edge your tracks are known for."

Han's smile was like sunrise—slow to appear but bright enough to light up his entire face when it did. "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you."

Before you could respond, a loud voice called out from down the hall.

"There they are! Our production team!"

You looked up to see Felix bounding toward you, followed by the rest of the members fresh from dance practice, their hair still damp from showers.

"Y/n!" Felix exclaimed, as if he hadn't seen you in weeks rather than a day. "How was your first day? Did Han behave himself?"

You laughed as Han groaned beside you. "He was very professional," you assured Felix. "We all were. Got some good work done, actually."

"She's being modest," Chan said. "They've practically written our title track already. You should have seen them—like they've been collaborating for years."

"Music soulmates," Changbin repeated his earlier assessment with a knowing smirk.

You felt a flush creeping up your neck at the term, noticing Han's similar reaction from the corner of your eye.

"We just have compatible approaches to production," you clarified, though you couldn't deny the unusual ease you'd felt working with Han.

"Well, I want to hear it," I.N. said eagerly. "Is it going to make me cry? I like songs that make me emotional."

"Maybe," Han answered, seeming to relax again when the conversation shifted to the music itself. "We're going for something that evolves throughout, revealing layers gradually."

"Like peeling an onion," you added.

"Exactly!" Han agreed, eyes lighting up at your understanding. "But with less crying. Unless I.N. listens to it, apparently."

Everyone laughed, and you felt a pleasant warmth at how easily Han had picked up your metaphor and extended it into a joke. There was a natural rhythm to your interactions that usually took months to develop with a new collaborator.

"We're getting dinner at Min's," Chan announced to the group. "Y/n needs proper Korean food."

"Yes!" Felix pumped his fist. "Their army stew is amazing. You'll love it."

"And after dinner," Hyunjin said, sliding up beside you with a charming smile, "maybe we can show you around the neighborhood a bit? There's a nice walk along the river."

"That would be—" you started, but were interrupted by Felix.

"Don't forget we have baking plans," he reminded you. "I bought those special chocolate chips I was telling you about."

"Baking?" Seungmin perked up. "Can I join? I've been wanting to learn."

"The more the merrier," you said with a smile, touched by how quickly they were including you in their activities.

As the group moved toward the exit, chatting excitedly about dinner plans, you noticed Han hanging back slightly, watching the interactions with a small smile.

"You coming?" you asked him.

He nodded, falling into step beside you. "Just thinking about how much the guys already like you," he said quietly. "Usually takes them longer to warm up to new people."

"I'm glad," you replied sincerely. "I was worried about being the outsider."

"You're not," Han said with surprising certainty. "You fit. With us, I mean. With the music."

The simple statement warmed you more than it should have. "Thanks, Han. That means a lot."

---

The Korean barbecue restaurant was lively and warm, filled with the sizzle of grilling meat and animated conversation. Han sat across from you at the large table, sandwiched between Lee Know and Changbin, while you were flanked by Felix and I.N., who had claimed seats beside you with impressive speed.

Han tried not to stare as Felix showed you how to wrap your meat in lettuce leaves with various accompaniments, but he couldn't help noticing how naturally you fit into their dynamic. You laughed at I.N.'s jokes, listened attentively to Seungmin's explanation of different banchan dishes, and even matched Hyunjin's flirtatious banter with good-natured comebacks.

"So," Lee Know said beside him, voice low enough that only Han could hear, "productive day in the studio?"

"Yeah," Han replied, taking a sip of his water. "We got a lot done."

"Mmm," Lee Know hummed knowingly. "And how many times did you trip over your words?"

"I didn't," Han protested, keeping his voice down. "It's different when we're working on music. I forget to be nervous."

Lee Know's eyebrows shot up. "So you admit you're nervous around her otherwise?"

Han cursed his slip. "That's not—I just meant—"

"You're cute when you're flustered," Lee Know teased, grinning. "But seriously, you seemed to click with her musically. Even Chan noticed."

Han nodded, unable to deny it. "It's weird. She just... gets what I'm trying to do before I even explain it fully."

"That's rare," Lee Know acknowledged, his teasing tone giving way to sincerity. "Don't waste it worrying about whether your ears turn red when she looks at you."

Before Han could respond, your voice carried across the table.

"Han," you called, "Felix doesn't believe me that the beat switch in 'Zone' was inspired by classical sonata form. Back me up?"

Han blinked in surprise. "You caught that? Most people don't make the connection."

You smiled, looking pleased. "The way you introduced the new theme but maintained elements of the original motif—textbook development section."

"Exactly!" Han felt a rush of excitement. "I was listening to a lot of Beethoven that month. The way he transitions between ideas influenced how I structured that beat change."

"I knew it," you said triumphantly, nudging Felix. "Told you."

Felix raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you music nerds win. I just thought it sounded cool."

"It did sound cool," you agreed. "Because it was drawing on centuries of musical development while still being completely fresh."

The conversation moved on, but Han remained distracted by the exchange. Not only had you recognized one of his more subtle production choices, but you'd understood the classical influence behind it—something even some music critics had missed.

"You're staring again," Changbin muttered from his other side.

"No I'm not," Han denied automatically, looking down at his food.

"You should see your face when she talks about music," Changbin continued, clearly enjoying Han's discomfort. "Like she's revealing the secrets of the universe."

"I respect her musical knowledge," Han said stiffly.

"Uh-huh," Changbin said skeptically. "And I only 'respect' spicy ramen. That's why I have ten packages of it hidden in my room."

Han chose to ignore the implication, focusing intently on grilling the meat in front of him. But he couldn't help glancing up when he heard your laugh ring out in response to something I.N. had said.

"You know," Changbin said, his voice softer now, more sincere, "it's okay to like her. Just be careful, yeah? For both your sakes."

Han nodded, grateful for his friend's understanding. "I know. The contract, the comeback... it's complicated."

"When isn't it?" Changbin replied with a philosophical shrug. "Just don't let it affect the music. What you two started creating today was special."

Han knew Changbin was right. Whatever his confused feelings for you might be, the music had to come first. It was what brought you into their lives in the first place, and it was what would remain when you eventually returned to LA after your six months were up.

The thought of your inevitable departure sent an unexpected pang through his chest, which he quickly buried. It was ridiculous to feel sad about something that was still months away, especially considering he'd only known you for two days.

But as dinner continued and he watched you integrate seamlessly into the group dynamics—teasing Hyunjin, discussing vinyl collections with Seungmin, making baking plans with Felix and I.N.—Han couldn't shake the feeling that your presence was already changing something fundamental in their carefully balanced world.

And he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to go back to the way things were before you arrived.

---

After dinner, true to Felix's reminder, you found yourself in the dorm kitchen with Felix, I.N., and somewhat surprisingly, Han, who had quietly asked if he could join when you were all leaving the restaurant.

"I thought you didn't bake," you teased as he washed his hands at the sink.

Han shrugged, a shy smile playing at his lips. "I don't. But I'm an excellent taste-tester. Someone needs to make sure the cookies are edible."

"He just wants to lick the bowl," Felix stage-whispered to you, earning a light shove from Han.

"Don't expose me like that," Han protested with a laugh.

The kitchen was compact but well-equipped, and soon all four of you had fallen into an easy rhythm. Felix measured ingredients with surprising precision, I.N. enthusiastically mixed the dough, you added your special touches to the recipe, and Han... well, Han mostly watched, occasionally handing someone a utensil or ingredient, but mostly observing the process with fascination.

"You're really good at this," Han said softly beside you as you demonstrated the proper way to fold chocolate chips into the dough without overmixing.

"Years of practice," you replied, scrunching your nose slightly as you concentrated. "My mom taught me. We used to bake together every Sunday."

"That sounds nice," Han said, and there was a wistfulness in his tone that made you glance up at him.

"Didn't bake with your family?"

He shook his head. "Not really. My mom cooked, but baking wasn't big in our house. This is all new to me."

"Well, you're never too old to learn," you said, impulsively offering him the spatula. "Want to try?"

Han looked momentarily panicked but took the spatula from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. "I'll probably mess it up."

"You won't," you assured him. "It's just like producing—you need to feel the right balance. Too much mixing and the cookies get tough; too little and the ingredients aren't incorporated properly."

Han nodded seriously, approaching the task with the same concentration he'd shown in the studio earlier. His movements were tentative at first, but quickly became more confident as he got a feel for the dough.

"Like this?" he asked, looking to you for approval.

"Perfect," you confirmed, unable to help smiling at his earnest effort. "You're a natural."

A pleased flush spread across his cheeks at your praise. 

Felix, who had been watching this exchange with poorly concealed interest, suddenly announced, "I forgot the vanilla extract in my room. I'll be right back."

"I'll help you look!" I.N. volunteered immediately, following Felix with suspicious eagerness.

Before you could point out that vanilla extract was unlikely to be in Felix's bedroom, they had both disappeared, leaving you alone with Han in the kitchen.

"That was subtle," Han muttered, still focused on the cookie dough as if his life depended on it.

You laughed. "About as subtle as Hyunjin's flirting."

Han's movements faltered slightly at the mention of Hyunjin. "He's always like that. With everyone, I mean."

"I figured," you said, leaning against the counter. "It's harmless. Kind of flattering, actually."

Han made a noncommittal sound, and you wondered if you'd said something wrong. But before you could question it, he spoke again.

"Today in the studio," he began, still not looking up from the bowl, "that was... I don't usually connect with someone musically like that. So quickly, I mean."

"Me neither," you admitted. "It usually takes weeks of working together to develop that kind of shorthand."

Han finally looked up, his expression earnest. "I know you're only here for the comeback, but I'm really glad you're working with us. With me. Your input already made that progression so much better."

The sincerity in his voice touched something in you. "I'm glad too. Sometimes collaborations look good on paper but don't work in practice. This feels... right."

A small smile played at his lips. "Music soulmates," he echoed Changbin's earlier assessment, though his tone made it a question rather than a statement.

"Maybe," you replied with a matching smile. "At least for the next six months."

Something flickered in his eyes at the mention of your temporary status, but it was gone before you could identify it.

"The dough looks perfect," you said, changing the subject. "Ready to make them into cookies?"

Han nodded, seeming relieved by the shift to practical matters. "Show me how?"

You demonstrated how to scoop the dough into even portions, and soon you were working side by side, your hands occasionally brushing as you prepared the cookies for baking. There was a comfortable silence between you now, the initial awkwardness from yesterday replaced by the easy companionship that comes from shared creativity.

When Felix and I.N. finally returned—with vanilla extract that had miraculously been in the kitchen cupboard all along—they found you and Han laughing together as you tried to get a stubborn bit of dough off your finger.

"Looks like we missed the fun part," Felix observed, his deep voice tinged with satisfaction.

"Just in time for the best part," you countered. "The cookies are ready for the oven."

As I.N. eagerly helped you slide the trays into the oven, you caught Han watching you with a soft expression that made your heart skip in a way it probably shouldn't. When he realized you'd noticed, he quickly looked away, busying himself with cleaning up the counter.

But the moment lingered in your mind, a sweet counterpoint to the scent of chocolate chip cookies beginning to fill the kitchen.

Six months was both a long time and not nearly long enough. And you were beginning to suspect that when it was over, leaving wouldn't be as simple as boarding a plane back to LA.

Not when something was beginning to take root that had nothing to do with music and everything to do with the shy producer who couldn't quite meet your eyes but somehow understood your musical language as if he'd been speaking it all his life.

Next>>

Taglist: @iknow-uknow-leeknow

[r0cket-qu3en]

Morning After

tommy lee one shot <3

warnings: mention of drugs, smoking, mention of alcohol, fluff

prompt: reader cheats on her boyfriend with Tommy after drinking togheter, the morning later she looks for her shirt so that she can leave, but she finds something else.

He looked at her with a wicked little smile, while she pulled up her low-waisted pants, which showed off her tanned stomach. He pushed himself up on his forearms and looked her up and down, bit his lip and tilted his head to the side, looking her over carefully.

He reached out with a muscular, tattooed arm and grabbed a pack of Marlboros from the side of the nightstand, taking a cigarette from the box and started to grab the red lighter next to the crumpled, half-rusty paper pack. The cigarette between his pink lips already gave him a sense of pleasure, as if he had already lit it. The snap of the lighter being lit made the girl turn, as if the noise had disturbed the thoughts that were wandering in her head.

"Scared?" He asked, taking the cigarette between his fingers, so he could articulate his words well and show her his confident, arrogant little smile. He wanted to show her how attractive he was. She stopped and looked at him. She was pacing around the room in a bra and cheap jeans she had bought in Indiana that spring, looking for something.

"No." She said seriously and went back to searching nervously, trying to leave the room as soon as possible. He lit the cigarette and closed his eyes, while the taste of tobacco filled his brain with pleasure and calm, almost to the point of fogging it. He inhaled, savored the sensation of nicotine and then slowly let the smoke slip out of his mouth, trying to slow down the moment and make it last as long as possible. The smoke dissolved into the air, invisible, but the heavy smell made the atmosphere suffocating, at least for her, who was starting to feel out of breath.

"What are you looking for, honey?" he asked her, while his provocative smile took on an air more amused than attractive. "Nothing." She said, absentmindedly, while moving everything she found at hand: shirts, sheet music, song lyrics, bottles of vodka and some cocaine hidden in the most remote corners.

"Tell me what you're looking for, maybe I can help you." He spoke to her in a soft and reassuring voice, she found herself on the verge of vomiting from the guilt of the boy's kind and sincere tone.

"My shirt." She gave in, hoping that he would find it and that she could finally leave that room, maybe along with it the feeling of dirtiness that was becoming more and more frequent. It was a strange feeling, that certainly didn't belong to the good girl she was, the street changes people, I guess. He looked around, then lifted the white and messy sheets, looking for the shirt of the girl in front of him.

She looked at him nervously, she seemed uncomfortable, she didn't want to continue looking at the boy's naked chest sitting in the double bed, still warm and clean, perfect for spending the morning in bed, together. She kept looking, and so did he, still sitting comfortably on the bed.

"You look good, without your shirt, I mean... I mean, you look good with your shirt on, but you know..." He started babbling. It happened to him every time he talked to a girl he liked: he'd babbling and stammering compliments.

"Just look for my shirt, please." She begged him and he started looking again.

He found more than he could have imagined among the sheets: used condoms, some coke leftovers and condom wrappers. He felt a slight urge to vomit as he looked at the dirty scraps.

She was looking in a wooden cabinet with a couple of drawers. The cabinet was a mess too. There were chopsticks, magazines, letters, photos... The photos were mostly of Tommy as a child with his family and most of the letters were addressed to David Lee Thomas Bass and Vassiki Papadimitriou or from them. They were yellowish and smelled like books. Some were in better condition than others, but Tommy seemed to care about every single one of them.

As she was moving sweaty shirts and wands full of signatures, something fell at her feet. Something small, because it didn't make much noise. The thought of the shirt left her mind for a moment and she looked down at the small object that had fallen.

She bent down to pick it up and put it back in its place, if she had one, but as soon as she picked it up she noticed how out of place the object was in that messy and dirty room. It looked like it had ended up there by accident, like someone had lost it in Tommy's room and now he had it. It gave her the idea of something priceless, even if it probably wasn't.

It was a small black velvety box, the surface was so soft to the touch that she rubbed her thumb a couple of times over it before opening it. Inside was a ring. A small silver ring, thin and shiny. She looked at it, motionless, for a few seconds.

"Found your shirt" He said, out of nowhere, getting up from the bed and standing behind her, looking at the open box in her hands.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend." She muttered, feeling worse. Her eyes lowered to the ring that shone under her eyes.

"A girl you want to marry." She added, clutching the box.

"She's not my girlfriend, not yet anyway." He said, resting his chin on her shoulder and caressing her hips. "It was for you, anyway." He finished.

[sea-buns]

hey to a gorgug liker what do you think about his nightmare section from sophomore year? cause I feel like the horror there is less “ah my grandparents were racist” and more “fuck am I being a stereotype? are the people who hate me right about me?” cause wrt to his having to modulate between barbarian and artificer in fhjy it’s like. idk

oh boy do I have thoughts

Tbh, I had zero recollection of the racism stuff until reading this. It was just SO MINOR. His trial in the forest felt really lackluster to me. I feel like everyone else's really dug into an issue at the core of their character and his felt more like "everyone is getting a trial, what do we do for gorgug?" And idk if that was just a bad delivery/call on Brennan's part or if it could have been helped by Zac engaging more in it but it just. Didn't feel like anything. It was a lot more about the dice than the horror of the claustrophobia and the bugs and you've never fit in anywhere you live to make yourself smaller wherever you go you're just the loser who hits hard. Like yeah I guess there was an overarching theme of Gorgug gaining confidence in himself but it was done very poorly imo.

And I think his trial in the forest was wrong for putting such an emphasis on his intelligence. I think that would have been much better suited in fy, back when he was still being heavily bullied, but beyond that it felt like a quick and easy thing for them to grab. Yes, he had insecurities about his intelligence with all the complications with Zelda. But, to me, the focus of fhsy was his HEART. It put a spotlight on how his social circle has grown, and his bully is his friend now, and he's not alone anymore. His interactions with Ayda, the friendship book, trying to help Fabian, I believe in you spring break, it's Gorgug keep going. I made a post earlier in the season (including a great addition by another user) that I think articulates that emphasis on his emotional intelligence very well.

Fhjy HOWEVER. I think it's doing everything that sy failed at. It's giving him space to have an inner conflict. It's addressing lots of little issues and conflicts he's had over the campaign and combining them into one coherent piece. Like, guy was in a relationship pretty much all of fy, and then dealt with the fallout in sy, but I don't think we've EVER seen as much quality relationship development with Gorgug as we have in jy. He and Fig spent an entire summer together trapped in a tour bus and no season has indicated that bond and friendship more than this one. He and Riz have found something to bond over, meanwhile in previous seasons there was pretty much zero one-on-one personal interaction between them. Fabian expressed sadness over Gorgug leaving the Owlbears, because it was the only thing they had that was just for them to hang out and be friends.

Just with that, we're already doing leagues more with Gorgug's character than we ever have. And I haven't even STARTED on his barbificier journey, oh dear god lmao.

Gonna preface this bit with a post I made before the season even started. It was about Zac's steady improvement in his performances with every PC, and how I was predicting that it was gonna culminate into a Gorgug that does him the justice he deserves. It was initially supposed to be a criticism, but I got a little lost in the sauce of loving my boy lol. Still very relevant to the topic of this ask!

God, where do I START?? Addressing his relationship with rage? I'll be honest, I didn't think that would ever be used as a character arc. And I'm not even sure why I've felt that way. I just didn't think... I didn't think about how he might've had a dislike for his own rage. Like, the WAY he rages isn't bad by any means, but I don't think it ever crossed my mind how actually harmful his lessons to sing to combat rage were. No, I did not like the way Porter went about teaching him (a bit too unsupportive of his capabilities and reminiscent of shitty teachers for my liking). But his point about EMBRACING anger; that rage is not bad and does not— should not— need to be stifled. THAAAAT. That opened up such an interesting dialogue for Gorgug.

I do appreciate the beginnings of Gorgug's interest in artificing in fhsy. I think the crumbs of it back then did a great job of leading into his larger commitment to multiclassing. And I think what he's been doing with it this season is exactly what was lacking in his section of the nightmare forest. His trial was a puzzle, based entirely on die rolls, where his solution after failing even when he's assisted by the enemy is to essentially give up. I understand that facing their fears was the whole point of the trials, but his section came off as incredibly anticlimactic and unfulfilling. Just the fact that it was a trial based on stat numbers more than the development of the character itself.

Where junior year succeeds in actually showcasing his intelligence and the evolution of the worth he holds in himself is with the hands-on approach it takes. Yes, the academic rolls are still dice and stats, but there's a physical manifestation that wasn't there before. Gorgug is smart when it comes to getting his hands dirty. It is in the practical applications of his skills that his brand of intelligence shines the most.

And while, once again, I did not LIKE Porter's heavy resistance to multiclassing....I have to admit that I don't think Gorgug would have had such a boost in confidence without that struggle. Even if my boy had trouble expressing it to Porter verbally, HE STOOD UP FOR HIMSELF. Instead of simply rolling over and agreeing that he wasn't built for a technical class and it was stupid to try– he was DEFIANT.

The kid who said "I'm a dumbass. Eat me you stupid bug." took on FOUR CLASSES. Three school years worth of artificer simultaneously. AND stayed with the Owlbears. AND went along on party missions to help Kristen's candidacy. AND was always on deck to help the party with the overarching plotline.

AND HE ACED IT!!! THE FIRST BARBIFICER THAT THE AGUEFORT ADVENTURING ACADEMY HAS EVER SEEN!!!!! He is paving the way for every unprecedented multiclass that follows.

Just in comparison to who he was in the previous season, the amount of drive and self-worth he's gained is astounding. In my eyes, it's done more than enough to makeup for the way his development fell flat in sophomore year.

i hope this fulfilled the ask in the way you were hoping! i told you i'd get carried away lmao. writing a bunch about any of zac's characters is always such a joy. gorgug had always been my favorite of the bad kids but i always found myself wishing he went deeper, y'know? and now it's real. my precious anxious boy has been handled so well. and watching zac's growth as a performer has been such a blast.

thanks for the ask! :D

[secriden]

so ok i've got Things to talk about Star In My Mind again because interview lady raised two things that were #relatable:

lol yeah this is exactly how i felt about this show. like it just DOES NOT TAKE A BREAK at any point. just when you think you have a handle on the love triangle, it evolves into a square and you're like !?!? where?? did YOU come from?? (but then i re-watched it and they actually do set it up in an earlier episode, its just incredibly subtle)

and every time one misunderstanding gets resolved another two crop up like some kind of messed up misunderstanding hydra. i can't decide if i hated it or loved that it made the side characters actually have purpose. it filled out the space around the main couple's journey in a way that felt unnecessary but also stopped me from asking why this or that character was even in the show (except for Obnoxiously Self Confident Guy - I could've done without him).

all that to say, i think this is at least partly why i found SIMM so entertaining. you just... don't have a lull in the series. there's no feeling of like "wait, why did that happen??" everything makes sense its just incredibly frustrating.

THIS! FUCKING THIS!!!!! its actually impressive how verbally honest all the characters are, but its just never with the person they need to be honest with. and i don't mean just kluen and dao (although ofc they're the worse culprits) but typhoon and gia and the assortment of friends do it too. everyone is simultaneously so incredibly aware of themselves and their relationships with others and communicative about it, but in just...always in the wrong room.

which... is actually not a complaint on my part because i think that's incredibly true to life these days? most people actually are incredibly self-aware and moreover can articulate it very well. if anything, i find myself TOO self-aware to the point that it can be crippling.

and kluen is a great example of this. he knows he sucks at expressing his feelings and the very awareness of his inadequacy causes him to second guess himself repeatedly. even with multiple confirmations that dao still has feelings for him, he keeps being dragged back into self-doubt and inaction because of this awareness/self-perception.

as frustrated as i felt with kluen, i actually recognise myself in him. those times when i allow my anxiety and fear of failure to lead to procrastination which then spirals into more anxiety and fear.

i just didn't expect "generic thai bl college series" to give that to me, and that's (one reason) why i liked this show so much.

[brainddeadd]

The café was a sanctuary of warmth and intimacy, its dim lights casting a soft glow over the rustic wooden tables. The air was filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the sound of soft chatter and laughter. Joseph Woll sat across from you, his usually confident demeanor softened by an air of vulnerability that hung between you like a delicate thread.

He stirred his coffee absentmindedly, his gaze fixed on the swirling liquid, as if searching for the right words. You watched him, noting the way his brow furrowed slightly, an endearing expression that revealed his inner conflict.

“There are parts of me I’d never thought I’d show to anyone else,” he began, his voice low and sincere. “But then… you came along.” He looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “For some reason, you made me want to be honest with you; bare my soul to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What do you mean, Joe?” The concern in your voice was genuine; you wanted to understand the depth of his feelings, the shadows he carried.

He sighed, a mixture of relief and anxiety evident in his posture. “I’ve always been the guy who keeps things to himself. My life, my struggles… I never thought I’d let anyone in. But with you…” His voice trailed off, and you could see the conflict playing across his features. “It feels different. I can finally breathe.”

You leaned in closer, your heart swelling with warmth at his honesty. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

A faint smile crept onto his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know… but it’s scary. I struggle with the expectations placed on me, and I’ve dealt with failure in ways I don’t even know how to articulate. I’ve felt so alone, even in a crowded room.” He paused, a vulnerability in his tone that made your chest tighten. “But with you, I feel like I can share those parts of myself. It’s terrifying, but I think I’m ready to try.”

Your heart raced at his words, an overwhelming sense of affection flooding through you. “Joe, I want you to feel safe with me. You don’t have to hide any part of yourself.”

His expression softened, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “Thank you. Just knowing you’re here makes me want to be better. To be more open.”

You squeezed his hand, grounding him in the moment. “I’ll be right here with you.”

A genuine smile broke through the shadows on his face, a flicker of hope illuminating his features. “Then I guess we’ll figure this out together.”

In that moment, as the world outside faded away, you both realized that the journey ahead would be uncertain, but the path was brighter with each other by your side.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

OK so trying to articulate pt. 2 what's been sitting with me re: You're Losing Me especially in light of the track list dropping:

When You're Losing Me came out, I got the feeling that "I wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her," came from a place not of desperation/resignation, but spite, at least the portion I bolded. In that, to me it sounded like the words once lobbed at her being spat back at the person who first uttered them -- even if only in her mind. There's an anger an intensity when she sings that part (in contrast to the "see her" part), especially as it comes to the peak of the bridge.

With the information that's slowly trickling out, from the way puzzle pieces are starting to fit together with the background, the references to works of art like The Little Mermaid, Clara Bow, even perhaps Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, etc., I'm feeling more and more confident that that's likely the case. If we're taking into consideration context clues from these like the idea of having to give up what makes you sing (metaphorically and literally) to attain the life you think you want, to keep the love you think you've earned, to let bitterness fester and eat the relationship from within, there's an undercurrent of resentment in those lines about the things that make one person soar and the other recoil.

If I were to make an educated guess about these circumstances, I would think the line isn't about marriage writ large, it's about someone who is fuelled by desires -- in this case, to live out in the open, to embrace her world, to drop the shroud from her shoulders ---- and having those desires shunned by a partner who sees that external validation as debasing. A mirrorball to the whims of the public, as it were. But she is saying, this is who I am and this is what I want, and want you to love me not in spite of these but because of these. It's like she's saying, I wouldn't marry the version of me you think I am (that you disdain). She's trying to say, all these things you don't like about me and my life are what make me me.

In other words, it sounds like the realization that the person who is supposed to be your greatest champion thinks of you completely differently (and unkindly) from the person you are. And perhaps the crux of it is, what am I willing to give up to be the version of me this person wants? How many inches must I give before the miles they take become a runway?

In retrospect, the "Me" she wants him to choose at the end of the song may not just be an imploring to make a commitment full stop, but choosing the person she is vs. the person he thinks he wants, because she's sick of twisting herself into knots trying to cater to him when the goalposts keep moving. Their love comes at a cost to both, and it's one that may erase everything she holds dear.

We're in for a wild ride in April.

[sassyandclassy94]

10 Questions for 10 Writers

Thank you SO much for the tag, @coneygoil !! You have no idea how much I love being included in these things🫶🏻

1. Is writing a hobby or a way of life?

Sadly, it’s just a hobby. My life’s kinda too busy to make it a lifestyle

2. A journal full of notes, or a clean completed manuscript?

A clean completed manuscript, thank you very much. Which is pretty ironic, given I’m a pretty chaotic woman.

3. Who (or what) is your writing inspiration?

SwanFire and ThePhoenixFeatherQuill. I went through a Once Upon a Time phase became a huge SwanFire shipper after my first rewatch and one night while I was lying in bed, I looked up SwanFire fanfics. The Phoenix’s masterlist was like, the first or second search result? So I clicked on it when lo and behold! The Spinner’s Son captured my interest. I clicked on it and fell in love. I looked for other medieval AUs but couldn’t find any so naturally, after seeing posts about writing what you went to read, I decided to try my own hand at writing one.

4. Which is worse: Someone you ‘idolize’ reading your first draft or listening to you sing?

Well… I’m not a singer (I sing WITH people sometimes) so, definitely having someone I look up to read my first draft. I remember when Red (an awesome writer who I also look up to and tumblr friend - check out his Into the Woods, it’s amazing!!) told me he checked out Secrets, Lies and Blessings after we met and started interacting during covid. I was mortified and wanted to crawl into a hole.

5. Has writing from someone else’s POV changed your perspective?

Um, maybe….? I delved into OC stuff this year and wrote a fic about Gale Cleven. Two people with totally different personalities and characterization than Baelfire and Emma so, I guess yes? Maybe it didn’t change my perspective but it’s helped me grow as a writer maybe? I don’t know, maybe I don’t understand this question…?

6. Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN?

AO3 and FFN by far!! They’re my favorites and go-tos. I started out on those babies! I think FFN is slowly dying though😔

7. AO3 word count? And are you satisfied with it?

105,744 - No, I wish it was higher. If it was it’d mean I’m more prolific.

8. What movie/book gripped you irrevocably?

Once Upon a Time started my writing hobby. I needed Neal to be happy and I was gonna write that, darn it! But with running out of ideas, writing SwanFire for 6 years straight, and going through a kind of heartbreak, I got really burnt out and kinda stopped for a while. It was The Boys in the Boat and Masters of the Air that inspired me to start writing again❤️ Don and Gale, man! They have a hold on me!!

9. What’s the highest compliment you could ever be given, and have you been given it?

That my writing is better than I give it credit for. And yes, Red told me that four years ago. He said it more articulate than that though (former English teacher and all, lol!) and him saying that made me feel a little more confident in my writing. I’ve gotten some pretty nice compliments about keeping my characters’ personalities true to canon and that’s pretty high praise too because I go real out of my way to do that.

10. What defines your writing style?

I… don’t even know? Even though most of my stories are romance, there’s also a heavy emphasis on friendship because a good old fashioned friendship is important to me (e.g. Emma and Eleanor). Theyre also very emotional. Whether it’s someone falling in love, preparing for parenthood, or suffering from PTSD, I want my readers to feel what he/she is going through and to be able to relate to them on a personal and intimate level.

Tags: Not me racking my brain to think of all the writers who follow and/or engage with me, and/or are in my notes🤕 @phoenixwrites @ljf613 @solo-pitstop-vibes @okieedokes @swanfireprincessmydear @fictional-at-heart @redbone135 @heatherfield @strangethings-everywhere @plasmabluefire @themeepyfreak And whatever other writer sees this and wants to participate, please consider yourself tagged! You can even say I tagged you. I want you all, especially new writers, to be included🫶🏻 No cliques in SassyAndClassy’s house!!! Oh my gosh is that ten??? DID I DO IT???? We won’t talk about how long that took me to come up with all of you🥴 I hope none of you will be annoyed that I tagged you🫣

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

¿y’know what’s heartbreaking?

my mom tried to love me by protecting me from my feelings and from diagnostic “labels”, and trying to solve my problems for me. she tried to love me by pushing me towards careers that “make a lot of money” so i wouldn’t struggle with being poor like she did. she tried to love me by forcing me to eat “healthy” foods that didn’t work with my sensory needs and tastes. she tried to love me by driving me places and pushing me to accomplish awards and get good grades.

(she also hurt me in other ways, but what i’m in my feelings about is the ways she tried to show love)

she did love me. but that wasn’t what i needed.

i needed to walk slowly down the street holding hands in silence.

i needed to be held tightly (deep pressure) and sincerely.

i needed to be accommodated and i needed to be diagnosed so i could get help.

i needed someone to not just tolerate my infodumps but engage with them and appreciate my vulnerability as I share my joy and excitement.

i needed someone to encourage all my hobbies and potential careers. maybe they won’t work out or won’t be the Best Financial Option™ for capitalism, but i didn’t get the confidence to try those options either because all my passions were Wrong™ for the adult world.

i needed someone to listen to me verbally process my day without stopping me to “play devil’s advocate” trying to make me think critically, or stopping me because they were busy.

i needed to choose my own clothes, and be encouraged to do so, even if i was limited to thrift store options.

i needed autonomy, and support.

but she tried to love me in ways that made me feel distant, unseen, and hurt.

i felt a disconnect from my caregiver because they wouldn’t translate their love to a language I could feel and understand.

one of them has proven he doesn’t care about us. our father doesn’t care.

but i felt a disconnect from our parent, our mom, (they/she) because they were too stuck in their own way of approaching/handling the world and their own unmet needs, so they didn’t stop to ask what i needed. they didn’t invite me to share what i needed or teach me to articulate it.

i’ve been suspecting more & more lately that they’re autistic (like us). maybe they don’t realize they’re doing it. maybe we can explain.

they clearly didn’t understand what nonbinary meant when we had that conversation, and they’re starting to be better about that & they’re listening more about trans issues. maybe they’re misinformed here too, or they simply haven’t realized there are other explanations. maybe we can explain.

i think in order to repair this relationship, i need to talk to her about what i/we need and give her the opportunity to start meeting those needs.

and maybe that means keeping them at arm’s length for a bit. maybe we have to wait for them to accept what they did wrong, and to adapt to our needs.

maybe she did love me, but she didn’t translate it. maybe our needs weren’t what they were prepared to meet. but maybe that’s repairable as an adult.

i guess we’ll see.

~Nico

✨✨✨✨

((i am on edibles, but not very out of reality. right now it means the PTSD is flowing how it wants & giving us realizations. ‘oh, that's why that’s difficult’. but this one is ‘oh, that’s why we had a disconnect from her, even when they weren’t actively hurting us’.))

[ultimateissuessimp]

Teach me

One shot

Word count: 900

Warnings: None

Notes: I used Slovak as Sokovian, because I've read somewhere that Sokovian was a mix of Slovak and something else. I also used google translate, sooo. Yeah.

He knew that Zemo was Sokovian, he wasn't stupid, but hearing him speak his native language always put him in awe. It sounded so beautiful, like a comforting melody his mother used to quietly sing to him so he could fall asleep. So when he heard the baron conversing with Oeznik in Sokovian, he couldn't help but listen in and marvel at how smoothly the words flew out of his lips. When they stopped, Y/N approached Zemo with the intent of asking the man to teach him some Sokovian.

-It might sound like a strange request, but could you teach me some Sokovian? Your language fascinates me and I'd love to learn it - he said, his heart skipping a beat at the look the baron gave him at his question. His palms grew slightly sweaty as nerves started to appear. Did he overstep? Was it invasive to ask a man who lost his country and everyone he cared about to teach him his native language?

-Why? - such a simple question left Zemo's mouth, yet it only made more questions swirl inside Y/N's head.

-I just… I wanted to give you more opportunity to speak it, I know you have Oeznik who you can talk in Sokovian with, but the thought of having more people to speak to in your native language sounds… Nice, in my opinion it wouldn't feel as lonely, as… Alienated, I guess - he explained his thought process, articulating what he meant with his hands and awaited with bated breath Zemo's response. At that moment something in Helmut moved, his heart picking up pace.

The man he grew so fond of in such a short amount of time wanted to give him some normalcy. It felt too good to be truth, he wanted to believe that there was some ulterior motive, his mind screaming at him that there was no way Y/N wanted just that. There had to be something hidden underneath those words. Yet his heart begged him to have some trust in the man and it was what made him nod his head, agreeing to Y/N's proposal.

A large smile appeared on the man's face when he got an approval from the baron. Zemo took them to a different room, an office to be more specific, telling him to sit down as he himself sat on the opposite side of the desk. He gave him a piece of paper and a pen so he could note everything he was about to learn. A good half an hour passed and Y/N already learned some words in Sokovian, how to create a sentence and one sentence on it's own, but he didn't know the meaning of it quite yet since Zemo kept it to himself, almost like a secret.

-Say it once more, slowly - Zemo instructed the man seating in front of him, gesturing towards the seemingly easily spelled two words on the paper.

-Zbož-… Zbožňujem ťa. Was that good? Did I say it right? - Y/N asked, unsure about his pronounciation, not wanting to make a fool out of himself by being overly confident and failing at saying something.

-Again - the baron told him, as if he didn't hear the rest of what Y/N had said except those two words, looking right at the man's lips.

-Zbožňujem ťa - Y/N repeated himself, eyes holding a bit of confusion as he stared at Zemo, waiting for what to do next.

-Again… - Helmut said once more, seemingly in a trance as he not even for a second took his eyes away from the movement of Y/N's lips.

-I-… Okay… Zbožňujem ťa - Y/N said for what felt like a hundredth time, but he didn't really seem to mind.

-Just… One more time, please - he requested for Y/N to repeat his words. He couldn't get enough of how pretty those two words sounded out of the man, their meaning making his head spin and his heart increase in speed.

-Zbožňujem ťa - the E/C man said again, staring at Zemo as if he was a painting hang in an art gallery. Yet the moment he stopped speaking, Zemo quickly leaned over the desk, cupping his face into his hands and pressing his lips against Y/N's in a gentle kiss. Y/N let out a soft sound of surprise and contentment into Zemo's mouth before closing his eyes and letting himself get lost in the motion of their lips. When they separated, he couldn't help but smile and look into the baron's eyes.

-Aj ja ťa zbožňujem - Zemo replied, a soft look taking over his features as he looked back at Y/N, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs and pressing his forehead to the man's.

-Okay, but what does that mean? - Y/N asked, still confused as to what potentially could the words mean to put Helmut in such a state and spring him up to action. He only got a chuckle in response and he immediately set his goal to hear that sweet sound more often. - Oh come on, what do they mean! Zemo, tell meee! - he whined comedicaly when he saw the man move away and stand up to leave the office, a way of teasing Y/N with an answer which made the man himself spring up and chase after him, demanding an answer while they both giggled like idiots.

[barokvanziekscumeater69]

a little vent/rant about mental health and body dysmorphia i guess

So, I'm in a kinda shitty place mentally right now, and I want to articulate my feelings somehow. I'm really struggling with my self-image and body, and not in a way that seems remotely good for me in the long run. When i was like 7 to until 13 years old, I was always a little chubby (like on the edge of being considered fat but still had a slim figure, I don't know how to properly describe this, but i've never practiced any kind of physical activity and had the worst eating habits, not in excess, but it was always in some shape or form, junk food). 

When I entered high-school at the age of 14, I was trying to reinvent myself from the classic nerdy guy image but just on hopeful thinking. Somehow it worked. Since I had to move schools and the new place had absolutely disgusting food, I simply chose to not eat from 7am to 12pm and have lunch at home as my first meal. 

Needless to say, I slimmed down quite a bit on my first year. And now at 21 I still have almost the same body at the beginning of high-school. I've also let my hair grow past the size I'd normally cut it and discovered that it curls at the points, paving a way to further play with my appearance. I’ve also started to care a little more about my self-image and stuff, I was still closeted as a gay boy, but I’ve never tried to make serious advances in anyone, since I still saw myself (and I still do, honestly) as the me from when I was 12: chubby, bullied, with an annoying personality and most important of all, insecure.

And now at college, I’m out of the closed and acting pretty much the way I want - with all the mannerisms that come with being queer in general, but still feeling pretty much below everyone on the social scale. I’ve only had two crushes in my life so far, only tried talking to one of them (which tanked my self-esteem even more than I’d thought it was possible) but never tried exploring myself beyond simple small talk.

My issue is, since I’ve become an adult, people started making simple compliments to my looks, be it my hair or my eyes. And my perception of myself started to shift a little. Whenever someone said I was thin, in all seriousness, I’d chuckle and just disregarded what they’ve just said because only I saw myself shirtless in the mirror. 

And now I stand face-to-face with adulthood without ever having the self-confidence to even kiss anyone (I’ve been to a college party once in which one guy tried to flirt with me, but I kinda ignored him because he was like, so bad at it, not to mention he tried to talk to me when I was a little angry with the loud music and stuff, which made me uncomfortable and unreceptive).

Honestly, I don’t know if I have the courage to be with someone. Like at all. I may have the little moments in which I enjoy myself or how I’m dressed, but all of this is destroyed whenever I’m faced with the opinion of others. It’s just so jarring on how it takes a lot for me to feel good (having to shower and style my hair in a way it hides my receding hairlines, even when it looks good all it takes is a gust of wind to rip my self-esteem into shreds).

We also have the question of working out. When am I going to do it? Tbh, the thing that triggered my anxiety this week was my former-not-kinda-but-still-so crush saying that he was too busy at the gym so he couldn’t answer my questions about pc building or whatever. And I was just speechless because, while I like him, he is kinda of a recluse nerd and is somehow more sedentary than I am. So hearing that was a shock. I didn’t take the fact that he is improving himself because I like having the comfort that, while I am a mess, there are people worse than me out there. 

I just wish my brain wasn’t playing games with me all the time. When I look at my torso in the mirror, I look like a pale bag of bones, thin to the point of disgust. But when I look down, all I can see is fat. And I don’t have the courage to just show up at a fitness center and work out. I always feel dislocated, out of place, stupid and that people will figure that I don’t belong there at all. 

The psychological help I’ve been trying to seek out these past few years didn’t help me much on my journey to self acceptance. I don’t want to sound rude or mean to the body positivity movement, but to me, accepting myself for who I am sounds like just accepting I’m horrendous and there’s nothing I can do about it. I still need to seek out a therapist again since I’ve stopped seeing mine since I stared my new job two months ago.

Just now I’ve remembered on how I feel alienated even among other gay/bi men since I don’t feel like myself most of the time. People aren’t always on their best days but they seem to hide it so well. I just feel stupid thinking of walking to someone to try and talk to them since I feel like a small rat most of the time. 

The thing that bothers me most is that I’m so fucking fragile mentally. It takes one bad line from one friend on a bad day or a wrong look in the mirror to make me feel like a sack of disgusting bones the rest of the day and I don’t know If i’ll ever recover and feel like a functioning human being someday. On the bright side, at least I know how to take care of my hair, except for my receding hairline, I have confidence it looks good. To me at least. And I guess that’s all that matters?

This was a very long winded post, and I haven’t properly put down everything I feel but I’m happy i put some stuff out there. If you managed to get to the end, I’d like to know your experiences with self worth and stuff if you feel comfortable sharing them (please don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t want reblogs or clout, I just want some other takes on the stuff I’m feeling since it’s hard for me to talk to people in real life about it).

See ya.

[cloudbends]

On the topic of mobs normal parents, I feel like it's also diminishing to make reigen out to be shigeos adoptive father. I know this take has been made before but personally, the friendship of a tween/teen and an adult hits much harder than dad reigen to me. The fact that mob has a mature(ish) adult friend to confide in and hang out with means the world to me as someone who has grown up with adult friends!! Reigen isn't his father, he has a perfectly fine one. He is his friend. Sometimes your friends know you a bit better than family, and especially can give advice from outside perspective that is SUPER valuable especially if they're older! Anyways sorry to ramble but . Their friendship is wonderful to me and people shouldn't diminish shigeos perfectly average fammy.

apologies for the late answer, admittedly I had to think for a bit before replying.

I think mob and reigen's relationship is very special and very specific in a sense that I'm not sure how to articulate, so I don't know if friend is the exact word i'd use while I get where you're coming from. personally I think what makes their bond so unique is that it is first and foremost a very fresh spin on the mentor/mentee dynamic, which by nature doesn't really include the equal footing a friend implies. while I understand people being wary of calling reigen mob's parental figure, I don't think it negates at all the fact mob has a normal family, yknow? as you said, I think it's important for teens growing up to have other adult figures in their lives outside their family, but I think what makes reigen such a significant figure in mob's life is the fact that he does serve as a sort of authority figure, and cares about him to such a degree that I have to equate to a parental one (re: willing to literally die for mob). I think it's also important to note that reigen knows mob since he was a tiny little 10 year old, confused and scared and traumatized, and reigen's words were so impactful for mob because he was an external adult figure that could give him comfort outside of his family. I definitely agree with you however that defining it as a found father figure is reductive because reigen is young and there's genuinely just... So many layers to this relationship than I'm able to articulate or define. I guess the closest would be.... A semi parental mentorship with a side of coworkers...? perhaps? Because there is distance between them as an employer and employee, mentor and mentee, teacher and student, but also they're very close in that reigen would do anything for mob to a pretty intense self sacrificial degree while mob looks up to reigen for security and comfort first and foremost. I think a good showcase of this is in the second after mob's house burns down, and even though dimple assures mob his parents are alright, it's only when he hears these words from reigen that he's able to calm down and eventually passes out from exhaustion - kind of like how it will hit you very differently when a parent or teacher will say it will all be okay rather than just anyone, if that makes sense.

basically the bottom line imo is that reigen and mobs relationship doesn't diminish the fact mob has a normal family, but it does mean mob needed an external mentor, a semi parental figure in order to find his way in life and navigate through his personal issues.

apologies for the long reply, and I appreciate you sending an ask!! I don't get those often.

[jinxhallows]

I searched it but couldn't find anything about it, but why are you only including 5 member for kinktober?

ayee thanks for stopping by to ask! nobody has ever asked so I never explained 😂 so I got into writing in this fandom like about a year and a half ago and had no idea what I was doing and kinda just spat some shit out (that I now absolutely hate lmfao 100 follower special, anyone? That fluff was garbage IMO)

I don’t write Felix often/at all because I can’t quite understand his personality enough to feel I can articulate him authentically in writing yet. Also he’s kind of juvenile in a way that reminds me of a younger sibling, making it tough to slut him out. I’m always so impressed by smut Felix writers. They capture him well! I know something freaky is lying under that golden exterior. But I’m working on it! I write about him in my other two full length fics but unfortunately, I don’t think my portrayal of him is very accurate at all. But I keep going because well, it’s already started lol.

I don’t write Seungmin yet because I’m still learning about him and his likes/dislikes and mannerisms and personality. He’s the one I know the least about. All I know is that folx call him a puppy. I don’t think I’ve heard him speak as much as I have in the recent chuseok specials. I know he’s a little terror though, lol, unsure of the origins of it though.

I don’t write IN for the same reasons as above, but lately, he’s been portrayed in a way that’s making me consider roping him in the future into something fun. Someone who met him in person said he seemed the most masculine and adult out of all the members! Surprise surprise! The baby bread shit was off putting. I was like, I’m not slutting out someone with the nickname “baby bread”; but my mind is changing, and fast lol.

-

Why do I write the fellas I write? Aka my “starting team”?

I’m most comfortable writing Chan, he’s closest to me in age and I watch him enough to know his mannerisms and personality. Down to little things like his obsession with space, the way he laughs through his teeth, and his lopsided smile when he’s being a dork. Chan doesn’t like coffee, so in one of my imagines, I made it a point to state the reader was making coffee for herself. If I read someone who has Chan drinking coffee I’d assume they either took creative liberty or have no idea that this man does not fuck with coffee lol. Fun fact: add “yeah?” To the end of a question/statement and it immediately rings Chan’s voice in your mind, doesn’t it? “Guess you’ve got a lot to think about then, yeah?” “How about we head on out to the bar, yeah?”Those details really can make/break someone’s immersion!

Next comes Hyunjin. Hyunjin was difficult for me to write at first, his personality is so multi faceted and not much like his stage persona at all, which is quite powerful! But the algorithm started forcing him onto me in candid situations and I began to understand his nuances too. I grasped an understanding of his micro expressions and mannerisms enough to feel confident writing him.

Third is Lino! I swore against writing Lino because he was such a mystery to me! I later found a video of him being weird and his quirky personality and deadpan affect when saying certain things. He reminds me of some of my closest friends. Sometimes, I feel like I don’t give Lino enough depth! I’m an experienced Scorpio wrangler, and I know he’s got some intense depths to that ocean that can be portrayed so much better. Working on it!

Fourth favorite is Jisung. I use Jisung for light hearted things and comic relief. I almost never write angst Jisung. I probably could, and probably will one day! But for now, I’ve only candidly seen him happy and funny, it’s sometimes hard to even write him in smut because I can’t see him taking much of anything seriously. I know he has bad anxiety and other various mental health concerns, so he’s not all rainbows and butterflies but he doesn’t seem to let folx in on that side of him often, if at all, so it’s difficult to imagine for me right now, so for him, I keep it light.

Fifth newest favorite is Changbin. Changbin is still a little confusing to me but I can at least pinpoint his manner of speech, he can be quite aggressive quite suddenly, in a playful manner. I’m still not too great on describing his mannerisms in literature, but I’ve grown comfortable enough to experiment with him for Kinktober.

-

So you see, my cool beautiful anon, it’s just a matter of time until I work my way down to the rest of the members :) at first, I swore I’d only write Chan, and then it exploded into five. I’m certain by next year’s kinktober, all eight members will be rightfully represented :)

[lover-of-mine]

So. first off - I your colour theory posts are amazing, they are the first thing I ever saw of yours and I immediately fell in love.

Secondly, I just saw your recent response re: your thoughts about 7x04 & 7x05 and am wondering if maybe things will make more sense, or at least be easier to articulate, once 7x06 is out.

Hi, first, thank you, I'm so glad you enjoy them 🩷

But, yeah, probably. Because the more data points on something the easier it will be to figure out what they mean. It was easy for me to figure out how to articulate all I wanted with my blue and green posts because the blue and green is being used since season 2, so there's a lot resolved for me to look at to figure out patterns. But this season, we are using new rules. Like, for instance, Buck being canonically bi, makes Eddie a love interest officially, so they have different rules being applied to them now. I think the show might be creating a whole new category of stuff there because we never had a proper triangle before. I have some theories, but I don't have anything to back me up on them fully yet, because this development is in the middle, so trying to write something now kinda feels like I'm trying to write a summary on a book I didn't finish reading. Everything about the season so far is telling me that Buck and Eddie are gonna get together but they need to figure out they are queer first. Or at least tell the audience that. Like, they have enough space to say that Eddie already knows he has feelings for Buck in some degree, in all degrees actually, they can argue Eddie from fully in denial to aware of something he needs to deny to fully in acceptance that he thinks Buck can't love him back, but they would still need to figure out a way to tell the audience that outside of Buck (as in not in a scene with Buck) so that the "Eddie turned gay for Buck" argument can't be used. Because I can't turn off the writer side of my brain trying to guess where this is going narratively while doing analysis like that, and I think, for instance the blue and yellow is telling me something on that, but since I don't think the show has used this combo like this before (and I hadn't had the time to fact check my current theory) I don't have a resolved plotline to use, so I'm kinda speculating on a lot more than just the pattern since this season is in the middle and we don't have the story they are trying to tell yet and I don't love going down that line alone. Like, it was fun writing about the sun within the construction on sunset theory, but I think the actual yellow/gold the keep putting around Eddie and behind Buck is being used for something more than that but I don't know how to explain why I think that.

There's also the way they are handling the blue and green thing this season, I can't tell if they proved me right and they have been completing the blue and green thing with other elements of the scene, since we had Henren in blue and green with both of them using both blue and green down to their shoes or the patterns of their clothes this last episode, we had bathena completing it with pants, we had Buck with a green coat and Eddie surrounded by blue things, even the date between Buck and Tommy, Buck usually is in solid colors, but his shirt was patterned where Tommy's was solid, or if they decided to expand this season and the shit I pointed out before are coincidences. The season being in the middle means it can turn in any direction, so I'm kinda unsure of what to say because right now I feel like I'm completely off base and that makes me not feel confident enough in what I'm saying when I try to write on 704 and 705, and if I'm not confident of what I'm saying, then how I'm supposed to convince y'all of anything? Does that make sense? Like I have more thoughts on 704 after watching 705, the same way both gave me thoughts on 701, but they still sound like gibberish to me so I know they will sound like gibberish to you, so I'm waiting and letting the thoughts simmer.

[veryaren]

SCUTTLER TAKE TWO. this likely will not be articulated in any way shape or form so i apolgoize for that erm... anyways. i think. premanor luchino ships are so interesting to me because like. in his canon lore he doesnt.... really have repercussions for disappearing. he doesnt seem to be close to anyone, so no one will actually personally worry beyond just "hey this professor disappeared" but when you add someone else to the mix?? someone who was close to and even loved him??? then there ARE consequences, theres someone who will worry about where hes gone. but, as you said in aforementioned post, its not like theres any other options, this is his only choice. but i just. augh. its so interestign to me thinking of the differences of how he must feel in canon towards leaving vs in premanor ships. knowing hes leaving someone behind without further word but also still knowing its his best option, and never second guessing his choice after hes made it. sighhh luchino i need to dissect your brain for studying

idk if any of this got the point i intended across but. whatevs

AHHH YES. THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ASPECTS OF LUCHI. I hope idv expands more on what exactly happened to him during som of the undisclosed times of his life for his upcoming character day(like.for example. If the 5 year gap between professor and reptilian is true. I wanna know wtf he was doing.???) LIKE. WAS HE JUST DICKING AROUND IN ORPHEUS' HUMAN(ish) MENAGERIE OR WHAT. Also yes to me. In my heart. And in canon portrayals luchino is a very decisive person. very rarely does he question q majority of his own choices because he approaches them with so much consideration that he doesn't feel any of his reasoning his inadequate. I love him. a also. YES. That is what ALSO makes premanot ships with him so tragic and awesome!!!!!!! The way his brain operates. And his inability to really. Put himself in the shoes of other people. He's very logistical and tends to assume that's the norm. (I.e. not exactly understanding the concept of being/having a "fan". how can you say you confidently enjoy someone if you don't know them personally!) SO FOR. nyone who can actually tolerate . OR EVEN FIND FRIENDSHIP/LOVEI IN THIS WEIRDO. tough luck. he is a bumpy road. have fun grappling with the loss of your blunt antisocial recluse freak professor when he drops off the face of the earth and leaves some gross stuff (scales, blood; miscellaneous body matter) behind. blah I love luchino so much. But I really need to sleep

*sneezes entire lobster+various other*