#I don’t have the energy now either but I sure did make the new tag

[voidbeomgyu]

ALONE (Teaser)

In which you meet your bias in the worst circumstances.

PAIRING Idol Jake Sim x Fan Fem Reader

GENRE Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Burn, Romance/Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive (Maybe smut, not sure yet.), some fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MDNI, Descriptions of violence, death, blood, etc., All members except Jake died so keep that in mind (I'm sorry), Cursing, Crimes, Mental health talk and experiences, Death, Sickness (Throwing up), Making out, Smut(?), It's an apocalypse!au idk how else to warn about that LOL

SUMMARY The group Enhypen get on a plane to the US and when landing are met with the worst. Jake makes it out alive... but alone. Since the dead are attracted to areas where the population is saturated, your best bet is to stay low in the areas usually considered dangerous (alleyways, abandoned buildings, etc). He made his way into the country and found a nice cabin alongside a lake. His further inspection led him to believe it was abandoned for whatever reason, maybe it was a vacation home? Little did he know his inference was correct, and soon he was met face to face with a member of the family who owned it. How would she react to seeing her favorite artist rummaging through the cupboards of her new--hopefully permanent--home? And how would he be able to explain to a loyal fan of his that he was the only member left?

TEASER WORD COUNT 1,625

RELEASE DATE To be determined.

TAGLIST Comment on this post or send an ask to be added. (Have your age on your profile or you will not be tagged)

Endless walking while trying to find a suitable place to stay was slowly driving Jake insane. The exhaustion from travelling, fear of death, and anguish from the scene at the airport was weighing down on him heavier and heavier every second. Having watched his best friends, his brothers, his family all being taken away from him without being able to do anything but listen to the oldest’s words, “Run”.

Jake had not yet cried, there was no time for it. It’s been almost thirty six hours since then, he’d stolen a bike around a mile away from the airport. It’s helped him a lot on his journey to safety. He never stole, he wasn’t like that, not that type of person. But in the moment he didn’t have the time nor energy to feel guilty about it. 

Jake didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted quiet. Not knowing wether or not it’ll be safer in the city or the country side, he chose the latter. Cities are crowded with people, meaning they must be crowded with the dead by now, right? No matter; either way he knew he’d feel much better being in the middle of nowhere, or at least in the middle of what looked like nowhere. All alone in an abandoned farm house, maybe a lake house, any house on the country side would do. He was being too optimistic, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Finding a safe home to live in alone with no one around for miles sounded comforting.

The Jake from two days ago would’ve shivered at the thought of being completely alone. Though no extrovert, he needed people. He needed that connection, that interaction. His reasons to smile and laugh were mostly based around the people around him or the entertainment he consumed. Entertainment was out of the question now, and it seemed like people were too. Most dead, and others probably too violent to give Jake a chance due to the circumstances. 

All he held on him was his and Sunghoon’s carry-on bag from the flight. Note to self, don’t try to save your friend by holding onto their bag. Thoughts like this crossed his mind every few minutes, tragedies sentenced as jokes but he wasn’t laughing. What’s wrong with me? How could I think something like that? Maybe it was the dehydration, starvation, overall fatigue? He hadn’t eaten anything since the flight and was savoring the small amount of water he had on him. Either way, thinking of his beloved friends didn’t do much to help his mood. Trying to think of the good times? Those good times will never happen again, they’re gone forever and I’ll never get them back.  

More days passed like this. With a stop at a gas station probably being the reason he’s even alive right now. It was abandoned, for the most part. It was the early morning, and he was literally starving now. The cashier was still there, but his neck was chained so tightly to the wall that it was on the edge of ripping his head clean off. Oh, he was a living corpse too. Jake could tell that much by just looking at him, muffled grunts and groans coming from the pale body every minute. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care much of Jake’s criminal activities there. Stuffing whatever foods and drinks he could into the bags he had on him. They were even heavier now, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to all feeling, mentally and physically. 

At day four he had started keeping track of how many days passed with a calendar he found on the wall of the gas station that morning. He didn’t stay there though, he didn’t have it in him to kill the cashier, and he knew that if he somehow got loose while he was sleeping it would all be over. The past few days he hadn’t slept or rested much at all actually. Napping for at most an hour at a time, waking up to the slightest noises and scurries of nearby wildlife. He knows he’s incredibly lucky to not have encountered any of the dead, besides the one at the gas station, but it’s a little stressful to not have seen any either. Where could they all be? He had made it out of the city, the once bustling streets on day two, he knew many people weren’t out here to begin with. But knowing there are creatures that could kill him in seconds lurking while having no idea where they are was terrifying. 

It’s been six days. His legs started feeling numb just hours after finding his bike due to the frantic pedaling, now he felt like his legs were asleep all the time. The feeling of pins and needles covered his lower body as they worked on auto pilot to keep him going. His back felt horrible, slouched from his broken spirit. Endless cramping and soreness of his hands and fingers from gripping the bikes handles for hours at a time. His knuckles were white, and now so was his once tanned and alive skin. 

His lack of proper meals, sleep, and rest was now obvious. Jake hasn’t seen himself since that day in the airport, but from looking at his now thinner, paler, vein visible arms, he could take a guess at what his face looked like. Hell, he could feel the bags under his eyes whenever he blinked now. 

It’s been quiet and empty for a few miles. Nothing but grass, and a dirt trail he’s been following in sight. How long is this damn trail? he thought. Jake started following the trail at the sunset of day five; he remembers because of his calendar. It was coming to the end of day six, the sun starting to set in the distance behind him. He found a flashlight at the gas station and used it to find himself a place to “rest” for the nights he faced, it neared the time to find a spot to sleep.

Trees were all around him now, the area looked more alive here, not dried out and dead like the miles before. He must be getting close to some sort of building, forest trails usually have a building as a starting point, right? Unless this trail wasn’t made for hikers, in that case he was hoping in vain. 

It was almost completely dark now. Jake had usually found somewhere to stay by this time, but something was telling him to keep going. Using the flashlight to illuminate the shadowed forest, he heard his friends voices cheering him on over and over again. 

“Keep going Jake!”

“Just a little longer!”

“You’ll be okay!”

Tears were unconsciously streaming down his face now, though he still didn’t feel anything. His body just gave up on the effort of keeping them in. 

Jake pedaled faster. He couldn’t hear anything but his heavy panting, it felt like someone had covered his ears with their hands and muted the sound of everything around him. He saw something in the distance, the roof of a building; he padaled faster. A house, the roof made of wood, looked like a cabin; he padaled faster. He could hear the muffled sound of streaming water; he pedaled faster.

Face to face with a cabin, going so fast he couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wet grass below him. Still struck with adrenaline, he pulled himself up quickly and dragged his bike to the front door. His broken and unused voice sounded through his pants as he tried frantically to open the damned door. 

The door handle had a key hole but was locked with a rusty padlock. He could turn the handle and wriggle the door, that padlock was what he needed to remove. He pulled a hammer out of his bag; he grabbed it from the gas station floor, it was covered in dried blood. Obviously used by someone prior to leaving it there. Jake slammed the hammer into the padlock, over and over again. The loud bangs from striking the lock were null to Jake’s ears, his desperation coating over all his sense. 

Smash. The padlocks body is broken away from its handle and the door is free from it’s hold on the wooden frame. 

Jake shoves his way inside, throwing the bike onto the hard floor of the entry way before turning to lock the door. It was locked from the outside but had a perfectly working lock on the inside, though he didn’t care to question it. He made it, he was safe, he felt like he could faint.

He had no time to think, let alone find a good source of light before he threw up. Keeling on the once clean floor, liquid from his stomach poured out from him. His throat burned and ached at the feeling, like his throat was made of sandpaper. Falling back he sat on the floor, staring at the door and the mess he made on the ground. He laid back and let his eyes rest for the first time in nineteen hours. Jake fell asleep there on the hard floor, knee propped up on the backside of a couch.

If he was thinking clearly, he would’ve checked the entire cabin, then scavenged for any foods that may be there. But he was broken, body and mind. Luck had been on his side since the beginning though. The home was completely vacant before he entered, and when he wakes up he’ll have found himself a place to live in safely. Away from the corpses living in the surrounding cities, and away from any still living people, all alone.

(A/N: Hello friends! I'm finally writing LOL I've had this wip since December and I'm finally going to finish it. This post is just to see if people would even be interested lol. The total fic word count I don't know yet because I haven't finished it, but I am close! I won't give y'all any hints but I will apologize in advance for the angst I'm about to put y'all thru<3 sorry love you guys muah. Don't know exactly when I will publish the full fic, maybe right when I finish it, maybe a month after I finish it IDK I haven't written seriously in months so I'm not too confident anymore but I am excited. Hope y'all are as excited as I am :D )

[sencrose]

-- SAPPHIRE PASSION

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

tags: dubcon, extremely dubious consent?, idol AU, object insertion, pain, coercion, praise, masturbation, fingering, creampie

wc: 5.1k

a/n: i'm taking notes from underground jp idol culture, if you have any questions feel free to ask (would love to talk more about it despite my pretty shallow knowledge, i am begging actually). in short: chekis -> polaroids, oshi -> fave/bias, oshikatsu -> showing support for your fave. ao3 link with alot more notes here

summary: you're too eager to please, and Satoru's all too willing to take advantage.

Sometimes you wish you had a more socially acceptable hobby. It’s hard maintaining friendships when your days are constantly blocked out by concerts, when you spend all your money on chekis and oshikatsu goods. Whenever you try to explain, you’re met with looks of disgust and snide comments about how you’re throwing money into an endless pit.  

In terms of romantic prospects, it’s not like you can invite anyone over to your apartment either, cramped and covered in a plethora of merch that most people would find strange at best and downright creepy at worst. But that wish washes away as soon as you step to the front of the line.

”Oh look who’s back! How have you been?” Satoru beams with a smile that puts the sun to shame.

”I’m doing great, how are you?” you greet back, handing him your ticket.

“I’m doing great as well!” He gestures to the staff member to get ready to shoot. 

”What kind of pose do you wanna do this time?” he asks. 

”Can we do heart cat ears?”

”Oh, I don’t think I’ve done that before,” his hands press together to show his excitement, “how do you do it?” His eyes peer into yours, sparkling with anticipation.

You bend your index finger while keeping your middle straight and put them on top of your head, two halves of a heart placed to look vaguely like cat ears.

”Aw, that’s so cute! As expected of my cutest fan.” 

He says that almost every time you’ve met him. You’re sure he says it to all the other fans as well, but it never fails to send blood rushing to your face.

The cameraman counts down from three and the two of you get posed up. With a flash, the picture is taken. The film slowly slides out of the polaroid camera, and Satoru swiftly takes it, shaking a paint pen in his other hand to get ready to sign it.

”Did you enjoy the show today?”

”I did!” You exclaim, maybe a bit too excitedly as your voice squeaks unexpectedly. “It was amazing as always.” 

”Aw, that’s great. We’ve been working really hard, I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”  Satoru signs the polaroid while talking, decorating it with hearts. “What was your favorite part?”

“I don’t know, everything was so great…” you hesitate, attempting to collect your thoughts. Your nerves creep up on you, and you curse how this happens no matter how many times you’ve done this. Satoru simply nods to show he’s listening as he continues signing the polaroid.

“T-the new stage outfits are so gorgeous and they really make you shine,” you pause, trying to think of the other highlights of the night, hands gesturing in an attempt to expel your nervous energy, “but I didn’t expect you guys to perform the new single so soon, so that was a really pleasant surprise.”

“I’m glad you had such a fun time.” Satoru responds, finishing signing the polaroid with a dramatic flick of the wrist, signaling that your time together is coming to an end.

”I’ll be here to cheer you on for all your future work as well!”

“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you then!” Satoru holds the polaroid gingerly, blowing on it to aid the drying paint. “Now remember, be careful, hold the picture by the edges so you don’t smear the paint.” 

“Of course.” You grab hold of the picture, holding it carefully by the edges as he’d demonstrated. 

“See you next time! Thanks for all your support!”

”See you next time!” You wave back. You take in the view of the polaroid, slowly developing, the smiles of you and your oshi permanently encapsulated in the thin film. Just looking at it puts a cheesy grin on your face as you make your way out of the venue.

After the paint has had ample time to dry, you place the picture in your wallet, in the transparent slot that’s usually reserved for your ID. This is more important anyways.

---

You must be losing your mind. There’s no way this is real.

You were adjusting all of your chekis, moving them between your mini photo albums. The most recent polaroid had something written on the back:

Text me sometime? xx-xxxx-5429

After finding this hidden message, you dug through the rest of the chekis you’ve collected over the years, only to find nothing. It’s just this one. When did he even get the chance to write this?

You can’t help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. Should you even message it? Are you willing to cross that line?

…

You are. You definitely are. 

---

you: hey, is this Satoru?

Satoru, maybe?: depends, is this my cutest fan?

Satoru, maybe?: with the heart cat ears? ♡ॢ₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

You slam your phone down on your bed in a panic, as if it’s been possessed by a demon. Your heart races as you grab on to your chest, attempting to inhale deeply to collect yourself before unlocking your phone and typing again. 

you: haha yeah

you: but wait, how do i know it’s you?

Satoru, maybe?: <1 attachment>

Satoru, maybe?: does this prove it?

You open the picture with bated breath only to realize it really is him. It isn’t a picture you recognize from his SNS accounts, considering he barely uploads anything to them. 

you: i guess it does :)

Satoru, maybe?: then i was wondering

Satoru, maybe?: did you wanna go out sometime? 

Satoru, maybe?: my treat of course

Alright, play it cool, take a deep breath. This does nothing to still your racing heart. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, after all. 

you: yes i’d love to!

Satoru, maybe?: awesome! are you free this saturday?

you: yeah i am! :)

Satoru, maybe?: cool, meet me at the station at 2?

you: sounds like a plan 

Satoru, maybe?: alright, see you then :)

you: see you then :)

---

Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. 

You spent all morning agonizing over what to wear, and you can only hope that it was the right choice. You wait anxiously by the station exit, keeping your phone on standby for any incoming texts. 

“Hey!” Satoru approaches you, although heavily obscured. Baggy black hoodie and pants swallow his figure, along with a baseball cap, mask, and sunglasses covering his face. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” He tilts his face down towards you so you can get a look at his eyes, and prove that it is indeed him – not that you need the evidence, you would recognize his voice anywhere.

“Oh no worries,” you smile nervously, noting just how close he is to you, “I just got here.”

“That’s great!” he says, punctuating the end of his sentence with a clap, “Well, let’s get going!” 

“Where are we headed?” You follow behind him, letting him lead the way.

“I thought a cafe would be nice.” He looks over his shoulder to meet your eyes. “You like sweets?”

“I do!”

The two of you make your way to the cafe, engaging in casual small talk along the way. You feel like you’re walking on clouds alongside him, the distance between you so close that his hand occasionally grazes yours.

You find yourself in a quaint cafe hidden in an alleyway. It’s a hidden gem, you’d never find it without his recommendation. A quiet oasis in the middle of a bustling cityscape.

“They have really good pastries here. Feel free to get whatever you want.”

You look into the display case, dozens of artisan pastries and baked goods lined up neatly at your fingertips. 

After a moment of deliberation, the two of you order your food, an array of pastries, along with two coffees showing up at your table shortly after.

“I ordered some extras too in case you wanna try any of them.”

”Oh, thank you.” You reach towards what you assume is a chocolate croissant, ripping a piece off. It has a light crispy skin, melting in your mouth as soon as you take a bite. 

“Wow, this really is good.”

“Right? I love coming here.” Satoru exclaims, taking off some of his layers.

“Are you sure about that?”

”Yeah, don’t worry I come here all the time. Plus,” he says, gesturing to the empty tables, “Nobody’s really around.”

You already knew you were on a date with him, but it feels so much more real when his sunglasses and mask are off. You take in the sight of him and even under the dim lighting of the cafe, his beauty shines, almost blindingly so. You notice yourself staring a bit too long at his face, eyes shifting to the side.

”You can look all you want,” he teases, placing his hands on the back of his head as if he’s trying to show off, “I don’t mind.” 

You bring yourself to look at him again, but he has that award winning smile that has heat blazing a trail to your cheeks.

”So…” you trail off, unsure how to carry on the conversation. It’s one thing when you know you have two minutes in a controlled environment, it’s a whole other beast when you have all the time in the world. Any conversation topic that you’d usually keep slotted in your back pocket eludes you.

“You’re wearing a different outfit than usual. It’s cute.” Satoru picks up where you left off.

“Ah, I guess you’ve only seen me wearing merch at concerts, huh?”

“Yeah, but this is nice too,” he says before taking a sip of his coffee, “‘lets me see another side of you.” 

“I guess we’re both seeing different sides of each other.”

“Am I that different?”

“Maybe,” you pause, a hint of hesitance to your voice, “just a little.”

“What’s so different about me?” he asks, his chin leaning on his hand, tilting his head so he can show off his sharp jawline and the sparkle of his eyes with the sunlight shining through the window. Something about him seems just out of touch, like he’s hiding behind a mask. That said, it’s a beautiful mask.

“I’m not so sure,” you answer honestly. If you really put your head to it, he’s every bit as charming now as he is when he’s performing. Maybe even more so, but you’re not sure you have the guts to confess that. 

“You wanna know what I think is different about you?” he asks, his fork cutting a slice into his tart before pointing it at you, like an accusation of a crime, “You seem more nervous than usual.” 

“Am I right?” he asks, his voice dangerously low, before taking a bite of his tart. 

How could you not be? Your favorite idol is on a date with you of all people, and you’re well aware he’s well out of your league. 

“Yeah, you are,” you confess, eyes looking off to the side, unable to meet his gaze.

“Do I get a prize?”

“What do you want?” you ask awkwardly, shifting around in your seat ruminating on the possibilities. 

“What do you think?” He grins, his eyes tracing the features of your face until he lands on your lips. 

This might be the most forward you’ve been in your life. Time feels like it slows as you scoot your chair closer to his. With your eyes closed, you steel yourself, lips pouted, lean forward, closer — this is what he wants, right?

“Ah,” Satoru’s voice breaks your trance, “but I don’t wanna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do, that’s not fun.”

“O-oh,” you collect yourself, plopping back down in your seat a bit too fast, wishing you could curl up into a ball and disappear, “right.”

---

You messed up.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he just ghosted you after this. Maybe the rest of the date went fine, you’re not sure, too preoccupied with the embarrassment hanging over your head. Why did you try to kiss him?

The jingle of the door notes your departure and interrupts your spiraling thoughts as the two of you make your way back onto the busy street. The air shared between the two of you is stagnant, a clear cut contrast to the noises of the city. 

“Um, I had a lot of fun today,” you break the silence as you continue walking, “thanks for taking me out.”

“Of course! But it doesn’t have to end just yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could head back to yours?” he proposes casually, eyes meeting yours.

You look back at him, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as your grip on your bag strap tightens. Your gaze shoots nervously to the floor, staring at a crushed soda can that piques your interest for the moment. 

“I-it’s a bit messy,” you look back at him only to realize he’s staring right into you, “I don’t know if you would want-“

“I don’t mind a little mess,” he says, casually wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You’re not scaring me off that easily.” There’s a tone behind his words you don’t recognize, something that doesn’t seem quite as rehearsed or put together like his usual self. You try to find it in yourself to protest, but the words on the tip of your tongue melt away as Satoru looks at you with a burning desire behind his eyes.

“S-sure.”

---

You make your way back to your apartment, with Satoru following right behind you. 

“Make yourself at home.”

Your place isn’t actually that messy, but it is small, feeling even more cramped when it’s covered in an embarrassing amount of merch. You didn’t actually expect him to come over, so you didn’t make any preparations to make your room seem like that of a normal person. Promotional flyers, album posters, concert apparel, smother your walls without a speck of empty space to be seen. 

His eyes are drawn to the display shelf in the corner, fit with several can badges and acrylic stands of his likeness, customized light sticks, and a fan with his face plastered on it. 

“Must be a little weird seeing this, huh?” you attempt to joke, but your awkwardness is too candid to be hidden. 

“I don’t think so. It makes you even cuter in my book.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he states with a conviction that catches you off guard, “you mind if I take a look?”

“Not at all.” You gesture towards the case with your hands and a slight bow, a bit too formally for the situation at hand. “Go ahead.” You swear his eyes sparkle as he looks over the case before settling on one of the light sticks.

“Did you decorate this one yourself?”

“I did! It was before you released official light sticks.”

“That’s so sweet of you. Do you mind?” he points at the stick.

“Sure.” You open the case, reaching for the light before handing it over to Satoru. Once in his hand, he taps on the buttons, cycling through the colors until it turns a beautiful shade of blue.

“Wow, this shines pretty bright.” he comments, admiration glimmering in his eyes.

“I have to show my support from the crowd.” you say, waving your fist as if you’re holding a lightstick in your hand.

Satoru mimics the chant patterns you yell at his shows with an earnestness that has you grinning ear to ear. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him make a fool out of himself. He really is better suited to be on the stage. After a few moments of waving the light stick around he puts it down.

“God, your arms must be tired after doing this the whole show.” he says, holding onto his shoulder as he stretches. 

“I’m pretty used to it. If anything, it’s a great workout,” you say, raising your arm to flex the less than impressive muscle, “and you’re working out way more than I am!”

“Well with fans like you, I gotta be able to keep up.”

Before you know it, his face hovers dangerously close to yours. Your eyes meet his, an unreal crystalline blue you’ve never seen this close. His hand brushes against yours, fingers gently slotting into yours. His other hand caresses your chin with gentleness you’ve only dreamt of. Satoru brings his face towards you, sealing your lips with a kiss. The scent of vanilla and cardamom fills your lungs, a stark and welcome difference from the sweat and stale odor of the venues you usually see him in. 

It’s just a kiss, but you can feel yourself getting lost in his lips, heat building in your body as you press into him. He presses further into you with a fervor that overwhelms you as he wraps his hand around your waist. His kisses become more intense, like rain clouds swirling into a storm, asking, demanding for an entrance you’re all too willing to give him, parting your lips. The taste of coffee and sugar dance on his tongue, intoxicating like a spell, pulling you in further. Everything about him is overwhelming, the way his body is pressed flush against yours, his grip around your waist, how he maneuvers you closer to the foot of your bed until you fall gracelessly onto it. Satoru hovers above you, toned arms on either side of your head, white strands framing his face, eyes filled with lust. 

“Could you do something for me?” The question is simple enough, but you sense something darker behind his words. You’re not sure what you’re getting yourself into, but after that debacle at the cafe, you’re far too eager to please, to make amends in any way you can.

“Y-yeah.” 

“Show me how much of a fan you are.”

He places the penlight in your hand, wrapping his fingers against yours. His hand guides you to lift the hem of your skirt, the light now pressing against the fabric of your underwear.

“Would you do that for me?” he asks, sultry and sweet. 

Your breath catches in your lungs, face burning as if your cheeks are flint and he’s lit a match under your nose. The beat of your heart rings rhythmically in your ears, as you question if you heard his proposition correctly. Is he asking what you think he’s asking?

“I-I haven’t done anything like this.” you say, not exactly answering his question, hoping he accepts your answer. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you every step of the way.” His fingers hook into the side of your underwear, sliding up and down your slit. “I’ll even help you get started.”

You’re at a loss for words, nerves paralyzing your tongue, only able to give him a shy nod. 

He continues playing with you, fingers finding your clit and drawing languid circles that are just a bit too slow. An unfamiliar tension grows in your core, begging for release.

“You really are my cutest fan.” he whispers in your ear, honey dripping off every word.

His finger teases your hole, slowly inserting to a shallow depth before taking it out. Your muscles squeeze in anticipation only for him to play with your entrance, rubbing against your folds before entering you again. Your hole envelops his finger as he pushes it in. He starts with a curl, his finger digging around as if he’s searching for something. Within a moment, he’s pressing against the spot that has you leaning into him, chasing for more. 

You can’t keep your satisfaction hidden, low gasps spilling from your lips as you realize your hips are bucking into him. His fingers build a steady pace, and you meet him there, desperately humping into his touch. 

“So needy, huh?” he teases before inserting another finger into you. It slides in without any resistance, a testament to your arousal. 

A warmth builds in your body, your breathing labored as he has his way with you. You melt under his touch, like putty in his hands. It’s a wasted effort to keep your voice back, volume rising as you bite back on your hand.

Satoru pauses for a moment, fingers slowly exiting as he admires your arousal on his hands. He reaches out for the penlight, bringing it towards your hole. The plastic presses uncomfortably against your slit, collecting your slick he slides it up and down your lips. Your heart feels like it’s beating in your throat, and a twinge of fear hits you when you realize you’ve never had something so large inside you. 

“S-Satoru, I’m not sure about this.” You hold his wrist firmly, an attempt to have him pause.

“Don’t worry, it’ll feel really good, I promise.” Satoru ignores your grip, slowly pushing the light stick into your hole, the object feeling foreign inside of you. The stretch is uncomfortable, cold unfeeling plastic separating your walls. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, or the intrusion inside your body, eyes darting across the room to look at something, anything else — a daunting task when his likeness is plastered all over the walls. 

“Just like this.” He brings your attention back to him, patient hand holding onto yours, gripping you as he slowly fucks you with the light stick. Your pussy envelops the light, blue sheen disappearing as he pushes it in more. With every thrust, you can see your arousal glossing the surface of the light stick. You don’t recognize it as the object of your affection, custom made for him. It’s molded into something else altogether, a vessel solely there to deliver a hot tension to your core. 

The discomfort from the stretch slowly dissipates, a flare of pleasure building in its place. It starts to feel less foreign as it warms up to the temperature of your insides. Satoru starts to pick up the pace, lewd squelches escaping your cunt with each pump.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he coos. His lips graze the nape of your neck, a subtle lick to test the waters, earning a high pitched squeal that comes out more like an excited moan. You feel him grin against your skin, kisses tracing a line towards your shoulder. You can’t deny yourself the heat that builds in your core, the way your breath hitches in your chest with every kiss, every drag of the light stick.

“Show me how good you feel.” His eyes watch intently as his hand lets go of yours. You continue fucking yourself with the light stick, free hand rubbing circles on your clit, desperate to soothe that building ache for release. Satoru watches intently, his hand stroking himself through the fabric of his pants. 

Heat rises in your face, in disbelief that you’re doing this in front of him — but he’s getting off on it too, a blush painting his face as he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock from his briefs. Satoru lifts the hem of his shirt before biting onto the fabric, revealing muscles you’ve only seen on stage in fleeting moments of fanservice. Even from those short glimpses, you knew he had a well-maintained physique, but it’s much more sinful when it’s mere inches away, for your viewing pleasure alone.  There’s something arousing about watching the image of your picture perfect idol falling apart as he loses himself in the throes of passion. He moans under his breath, desperate for release as he strokes his cock harder.

The view’s enough to send you over the edge, waves of pleasure washing over your body as you gush over yourself, walls fluttering and clamping onto the illuminated plastic. Satoru’s close behind you, soft moans escaping him as he cums, hot ropes of semen covering your pussy.

You’re barely able to gather yourself, chest rising and falling at an abnormal pace, a sheen of sweat covering your back, causing the fabric of your shirt to cling to you. Aftershocks of your pleasure shoot through you, phantom spasms clamping to the intrusion inside your cunt. Your walls clings to the light stick, feeling a bit of resistance as you pull it out. Your muscles shiver at its absence, core aching at the emptiness. The light flickers before turning off permanently. Guess it wasn’t waterproof.

Satoru chuckles as he collects himself, still out of breath from his orgasm. “Wow, you actually did it. Maybe the rumors about my fans are true.”

“What rumors?”

“They’re sluts.”

His words deliver a sobering realization that brings you down from your high and back to reality. Your face twists in embarrassment, blood rushing to your cheeks in a wicked heat. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re the first,” he purrs low, kissing the nape of your neck. You’re not sure you can believe him. “And for what it’s worth, I really enjoyed it.” 

“Look what you did to me,” he teases, stroking his hard cock, already raring to go. “Gotta do something about it, yeah?” His cock presses against your slit, slowly humping into it, his pre and your juices mixing together. The stimulation so close after your orgasm makes you shiver.

“You’ll do it for me, right?” His head tilts inquisitively as the tip of his cock hovers over your hole, moments away from penetrating. The size of his cock strikes fear in your chest. Even compared to the light stick, you can tell you’ll struggle to take him in. You’re not sure if you’re ready for something like this, but when he asks with that honeyed tone dripping from his words, you feel charmed to say yes. You want to make him feel good too, giving another hesitant nod blessing him with the permission he craves.

“Good girl.” With a swift thrust, he forcefully pushes himself inside you, an uncomfortable stretch building into a harrowing pain. Of course a light stick doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Everything about it is just too much. There’s just too much resistance, too much of him inside of you. You struggle to take him in as he presses in further, holding your breath in hopes of a relief that never arrives – just a fullness you’ve never experienced before. A pained hiss escapes you as he starts humping into you recklessly, air knocked out of your lungs with each thrust, without any regard for your comfort.

“Wait, S-Satoru, it hurts.” You’re barely able to get the words out between pained groans. You attempt to squeeze your legs shut, but it does nothing to soothe the pain or slow Satoru’s pace.

“But you’re making me feel so good.” He spreads your legs apart further, fucking you with slow but hard strokes. His hands grip onto your inner thighs, using it as leverage to push himself deeper inside you. The slap of skin only gets louder, a pain striking in your core as he hits your cervix. Any attempt to drive your attention away from the pain fails, only leading to your hands gripping onto the sheets, knuckles turning a blistering white. The cool and collected facade of your idol fades away to dust. You don’t recognize the man in front of you, all greed and desire, rutting into you searching for his own high.

”Satoru, p-please, it’s too much!” you plead, hand momentarily letting go of the sheets to push against his chest.

”C’mon sweetie, I know you can do it,” whispering in that sweet yet hollow tone that hasn’t left his lips since the moment you met him, not that it does much to soothe. His tongue licks the shell of your ear, a gasp escaping your lips. 

You attempt to power through, biting down on your lip and letting your favorite idol have his way with you, ravaging your pussy like it was made just for this, just for him. Tears swell in your eyes as you try to put on a brave face. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, clenching your eyes closed as you let out choked back sobs.

”Don’t cry, you’re being so good for me,” he says in an artificially sweet tone that now sounds alien, overplayed like a broken record. One hand gently pets your head before gripping onto your hair, only serving as a support for him to push himself deeper into you. 

“You’ll feel real good soon, I promise.” You’re not sure you believe him, not sure you can believe him until his hand makes its way to your aching clit. The graze of his fingers is already enough to have you keening into him. Little shocks of ecstasy shoot through your body as he finally slows down, his hand focusing more on the bundle of nerves. His other hand reaches up to your chest, fingers crawling under the fabric to play with your tits, kneading the flesh before catching your nipple between his fingers. With his aid, your body gets acclimated to his size, the burn from being stretched out subsiding and a dull but undeniable pleasure taking its place.

You don’t recognize this version of yourself, desperate for a high you’ve never even tasted, falling back onto base, primal emotions as you start to match his tempo, pathetically pressing your body into his. You don’t recognize the salacious moans spilling from your lips, the look in Satoru’s half lidded eyes as he watches you give in to your desire. 

”See, what’d I tell you?” he pants into your ear, warmth from his breath sending a shiver up your spine, “feels good, right?”

And you hate to admit it, but he’s right: it does feel good. Better than good even, heavenly. How his length fills you up so deep, the way your cunt anticipates him with each thrust, your walls slowly taking the shape of him. Any words on the tip of your tongue disappear without a trace, head too fuzzy and scrambled to form any coherent thoughts.

The tension in your body comes to a head, body tight as your muscles clamp around his cock like a vice, panting his name with a reverence fit for an idol. Pleasure shoots through every nerve of your body, head light and hazy with bliss as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands ball into fists as he teeters the line of overstimulation, a whisper of pain too quiet to be felt before it fades. Satoru’s close behind too, pace erratic as he moans a string of hushed expletives under his breath. He comes with a deep thrust inside you, warm sticky ropes of cum coating your insides.

Satoru takes a moment to catch his breath before removing himself from you. Cum spills out of your hole, and you wince at the emptiness. You both lie on the cramped bed, out of breath, sweat clinging to your bodies. A gentle yet unreadable smile paints his face, and you’re not sure what to make of it. 

“You really are my cutest fan.”

[jasntodds]

Penance [4]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,682

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, some blood, panic attack (jason), bits of ptsd, some violence, hurt/comfort

Summary:❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I might have gotten this idea from 911 but that's fine lol I hope you guys like it!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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As the next day comes around, it takes Jason some time to convince Tim not to go looking for Venta if they’re going out later. Tim is thrilled to be helping with the Penguin to the point Jason finds the whole thing a little funny. Jason was always excited to go out as Robin. It was the coolest thing ever but Tim really is over the moon about it. Jason doesn’t think Tim has ever been happier about it and it actually worries him.

As much as Jason is happy for him, he is worried. He’s worried Tim will put his all into Robin and lose himself in it, just like Dick and Jason did. Robin was never something they got to do. It was given to them as a way to cover up their grief. It was a way to weaponize their grief rather than work through it. Jason hopes that won’t be the case for Tim. It doesn’t seem that way. It seems he just wants it for the greater good and he’s just excited. And the way he’s excited is still very serious like he knows he can’t let that excitement out onto the field so he lets it out now where it’s safe. It’s something he knows he has to take seriously. Jason worries but he hopes it’ll work out because he can tell that Tim will be a good Robin.

You meet the boys back at Jason's around midnight, a case in hand with your suit. You're pretty excited to go out on a mission with not only Tim for the first time, but also Jason. You really miss that stuff with him. But, with Tim, it’s new and you're excited to see how he does. No one can’t stop him from being Robin and being out there, so you might as well embrace it and that’s what you're doing even if you're terrified of it.

“Really gonna take down the Penguin.” Tim says almost in awe once you're dressed and back in the main corridor downstairs.

“Pretty sure we’re not taking him down, really.” You nod your head as Tim moves his staff around with pent-up energy.

“Kind of.” Tim defends.

“We’re just securing the guns and turning them over to Babs.” Jason reminds him as he walks in now in his Red Hood suit, the helmet on his hip. “Not taking out Penguin, he’s not even supposed to be there this time.”

“The fuck he is doing that he’s not gonna be at his own shipment?” You question, your stare directly at Jason and you can't help but feel maybe that's a bit weird.

“Fuck if I know, Penguin things.” Jason lets out a scoff. "Could think we wouldn't come for him since we haven't." Jason shrugs casually, it's not the first time Penguin hasn't been around so he isn't too concerned about it.

“What a weirdo.” You let out a sigh, shrugging the uneasiest from your bones with the ease of Jason's voice.

“Yeah.” Jason chuckles softly. “Alright, let’s get going. Tim, you ride with her.” Jason hands Tim a spare helmet. Jason heads for the exit, the two of you right behind him. “And just make sure you do what we say.”

“Got it.” Tim nods.

“Then, let’s get out of here.” Jason nods once as the three of you exit the building.

The three of you ride over to the warehouse near Harbor that Penguin is using. The three of you get to a roof, laying down to look over the edge as the three of you closely watch as the shipment is taken from one of the boats and moved into the warehouse. Penguin isn’t here it seems and only a handful of his goons are. That’s a red flag, Jason and you can both sense it. You exchange a glance but you're already here and you gave Babs a heads up. It'd be a little hard to leave now so you just keep watching, hoping this won't cause too many problems.

Once the lot is cleared of goons, the three of you make your way to the roof of the warehouse, Tim trailing along well. On top of the roof, there's a skylight where you can see the crates in the center of the room with the goons armed and looking around. This isn't anything you and Jason haven't done before so you both give Tim a quick rundown of a plan. Tim gets two goons while you and Jason will take out the rest and if he's in trouble just call out. Once Tim seems to be up to speed, Jason and you break the window first, using your grappling hooks to lower yourselves down quickly, Tim right behind with his own grappling hook.

You take your own four goons with ease while Jason takes the other four, leaving Tim with just the two. You and Jason find yourselves looking over your shoulders to make sure Tim isn’t laid out but every time you both check, he seems to be holding his own pretty well. By the time you and Jason have your goons down, Tim has his down, a proud smile on his face.

“I got them.” Tim says breathlessly. “Wasn’t so bad.”

You look over to Jason with the roll of your eyes. “Okay, Robin.” You nod once before you let out a breath.

“Let’s make sure everything is here and we’ll put in the call.” Jason says as the three of you start opening the crates finding several automatic weapons.

“What’s he doing with all of them anyway?” Tim asks, standing beside you.

“Penguin things.” You and Jason say at the same time.

“Right…” Tim lets out a breath.

This has gone pretty well so far according to you and Jason but that is what's not sitting right. Nothing with these guys ever goes exactly according to plan. That was one of the reasons Jason wanted to bring Tim so he would have to learn to adapt but nothing else is happening. Penguin isn't here and his goons barely even put up a fight. You need to get out of here, this isn't right.

“You didn’t think this would be that easy did you?” A nasally voice says from the platform above the three of you.

The three of you turn to see Penguin with his right hand right next to him. He looks a bit too excited and happy to be here. Jason wants to bang his head against a wall and you're nearly rolling your eyes into the back of your head. This was too easy and for Penguin to seem awfully pleased with himself, this is about to get very bad.

“We can take your goons all night, man. Or you can just walk the fuck away.” Jason offers as he crosses his arms.

Penguin tilts his head back and laughs. “That won’t be necessary. The two of you really are some replacements. And you even have your own sidekick!”

“Hey!” Tim yells, taking a step forward.

You grab his arm with a tight grip. “Shut up.” You grit your teeth at him. "Sounds like you could use a sidekick or two though." You quip back to Penguin. "Planning this with the Bat to of town? What? You scared or something, Penguin?"

“I'm not scared." Penguin says it so casually it sends a chill down your spine. "I knew you’d get in the way which is why I prepared for that!” Pengiun chimes. "You really should know something about that, Red Hood." Penguin mocks before he pulls out a detonator.

A bomb. Of course, it’s a fucking bomb.

“Have fun.” Penguin smiles at the three of you before he presses the button and immediately starts walking out.

You and Jason exchange a stare as a ticking echoes around you. You won’t have time. Penguin planned this so you wouldn’t have time even with his warning. There's no time to find the bomb and disable it, there's not even enough time to get out of the building. How did you both miss this?

It's all going in slow motion as Jason can see the panic wanting to stretch over your face, Tim looking petrified right beside you. There isn’t time to even reach you. And even if there was, what’s he supposed to do? He can’t catch a building. There’s only one thing to do and it’s as if you share the exact same thought that he does in that single second.

Jason and you turn at the same time to run towards the exit, you grabbing Tim by the arm to drag him along. The ticking quickens from above you. You’re out of time. You’re out of time and there’s nothing else left to do. The ticking echoes and echoes and in a split second, Jason is running behind a pillar and you grab the edge of your cape before wrapping it around Tim as you tackle him to the ground.

And the bomb goes off less than a second later.

The warehouse rumbles and vibrates as Jason is tucked into a ball behind the pillar, his hands covering his neck as if waiting for a tornado to hit. The rumbling shakes his bones and it’s so loud. Every rumble and echo shatter through his bones. His eyes are slammed shut as the warehouse fills with smoke as the roof starts to collapse. Jason’s chest starts to burn and it shouldn’t.

The mask has a ventilator. His chest shouldn’t hurt but it does and he thinks his ears are bleeding. His bones are stinging. Why are his bones stinging? Why is so hard to breathe? His eyes burn and sting even with them closed. Not again. This can't be happening again. Panic spreads itself over Jason like an itchy weighted blanket. He doesn't want to die again. Dying is terrifying and the building is collapsing around him. A part of him thinks he can hear the crude laugh of the Joker echoing somewhere through the shattering concrete. It all feels too much and he can't breathe. Every part of him is shaking as he's been left out to the elements in the middle of February. This can't be happening.

And then it all falls eerily silent.

Jason's breath is quick and uneven as he tries to ground himself. It's silent, the collapsing is over. It takes him a few minutes to try to gather himself, desperately trying to pull his mind away from the edge of terror. This is the first time something like this has happened since the Joker. Jason thinks the fear isn't any better the second time around.

He thinks it's worse.

But, he finds it in himself to finally slowly pull his hands away from his neck, his arms feeling like warm jello as they shake. He slowly sits up partially, looking around what was the warehouse. It’s cloudy, filled with dust and smoke. It’s hard to even see a few feet in front of him but he looks over to where you last were with Tim and he can’t see anything. The dust is too thick and he can’t help but let the panic start to flood his blood again.

He has the helmet. His eyes are protected but what about yours? Your mask has a ventilator but what if it doesn’t work? Do you even communicate enough with Bruce to make sure your equipment is working? And Tim doesn’t have any eye protection or a ventilator. It doesn’t matter if you're on your own, you and Tim are Jason’s responsibility. He’s the most experienced. He should have known this wasn’t right. Something should have went off in his head. He should have fucking known. Why didn’t he know?

The dust starts to dissipate with every passing second and Jason gets a better glimpse where you and Tim last were. He swears he’s going to be sick as his heart stops beating as it shoots into his throat. There’s a pile of cement from the ceiling. A long pile where that part of the ceiling collapsed and there is no sight of blue or red. There’s not yellow or black. It’s just brown and grey.

No.

Jason gets to his feet as fast as his legs will allow him and he sprints over to the cement. Not you. Not you. Not you. It can’t be you. He grabs one of the cement blocks and starts trying to pull it away to make a hole in the pile. He can feel the panic taking over again.

It’s been better. It’s been better again since he started seeing Leslie again. He can feel the panic sometimes but it’s better. He can fight through it usually and it doesn’t cause him as much distress out in the field. But, now it’s coming back like a wrecking ball. It’s been easier because he hasn’t had someone to look out for. It’s been easier because he hasn’t had to worry even if he always does. It was always fine if he had to eat it. But, being here and digging through a pile of cement in hopes you’re both alive, that’s different.

If he had to die again, that'd be fine as terrifying as it is. But, the thought it being someone else, being people that he actually cares about, that's an entirely other story.

“Blue!” Jason yells as loud as his can, his voice is raw and he hates the sound of it in his ears. It sounds desperate and scared but he is both of those things. Not you. “Robin!” He calls after, this time stronger, hoping he’ll hear one of you yell back.

The thought of seeing you crushed brings instant tears to his eyes and his stomach twist. He thinks about how you haven’t talked in a month and that’s such a waste. Why the fuck didn’t he just call you? He should have fucking called you. He’s panicking and he hates it but seeing you dead is his greatest fear today. He knows what it’s like to die and to die scared. You were scared. You don’t deserve it. It can’t be you. Please, not you.

And he knows Dick is gonna kill him if Tim dies on his watch. Tim just started and he volunteered for this. He can't be punished for wanting to do something for the greater good, for just wanting to help. It can’t be Tim either. Somehow, you both need to be alive under this pile.

Jason’s teeth grit before he rips the helmet from his head, annoyed by the vision of it. And he gets to work on the cement again. You both have to be alive. There is not another option. You have to be. And then he gets a glimpse of a bright blue fabric.

Jason forgets how to breathe and he works faster, pulling the concrete away as fast as his muscles will even allow. He’s able to make a big enough hole in the pile to reach you and just as he looks into the hole, there’s movement. He still isn’t breathing as he waits to see who it is and not a single part of him can even think to hope who he wants it to be because it has to be both of you.

And then you look up at him.

Jason lets out a breath.

Your eyes are wide and your face is covered in dust, a stream of blood falling down the side of your face. But he can tell by the softness in your eyes that you're relieved to see him, too.

The building fell on you and Tim. The building fucking collapsed on you and you have no idea why you thought your cape would help but it was something you could try. And then you got pinned. You think you’d normally start to panic because you were practically entirely on top of Tim and you couldn’t move. You both could have been trapped there but you know Jason has a habit of living through some fucked up shit. Something in you knew if he made it, he’d be there. He’d never let either of you rot under a pile of concrete. You knew he’d come.

Jason always comes.

And then Tim looks up, too.

Jason shakes his head, looking down for a second to gather himself before he offers a hand. You take his hand in yours as Jason pulls you out. He’s careful but deliberate making sure you don’t slip. Once you're on solid ground, he wastes no time in looking you over, his hands coming to your cheeks.

Besides the blood coming from a small cut near your hairline, Jason doesn’t see any other visible injuries. It doesn’t bring him much relief because internal injuries are still a thing and he thinks you should all go to the Batcave and do some scans. For all he knows, it's a lot worse than a small cut and you have to get out of here quickly just to make sure. He just needs to make sure.

“Are you okay?” Jason asks quickly, still looking over you.

Your hands shake as they come to his hands on your cheeks. “I’m fine.” Your voice is soft as you answer him, your thumbs running over his hands. He looks absolutely terrified. You aren't sure you've ever really seen this look on his face before. “I’m okay.” You nod against him as you watch a small part of his face dissolve into relief as his eyes meet yours.

You feel okay though very shaky and weak. Your limbs and back are sore, your ribs feel a little achy but nothing feels wrong. A part of you feels a little out of body and terrified anyway, like there's leftover panic still running through your veins. Being crushed by a building wasn't something you thought would happen and it definitely wasn't something you were prepared for. Gong toe-to-toe with bad guys with guns and knives and fists is the easy part. The uncertainty of a bomb and a collapsing building is a bit horrifying. But, physically, you think you're okay.

“We gotta do some scans at the cave, alright? Make sure there’s no internal bleeding or some shit.” Jason keeps his eyes on yours, trying with everything in him to control the panic in his voice.

“I’m fine—“

“No.” Jason cuts you off. This is one risk he's not willing to take. Your life is the one risk Jason will never take no matter what you want to argue. “You don’t know that, okay?”

Suddenly, it's as if you're back on Amusement Mile that night. It was dark and gloomy, nothing too unusual for a night in Gotham City. But, it felt colder and it all felt wrong. The pit in your stomach gnawed and begged you to turn around. You remember knowing with the very sight of the yellow on the Robin cape. You remember how terrified you were walking up to his body, waiting for the confirmation of your biggest fear. You're thinking you might have shared a similar look to the one Jason is giving you now.

“Okay.” You agree with a gentle nod.

Jason sucks in a breath, his brows still pulled together with worry. "Good."

“Yeah, uh, a little help, please?” Tim calls from behind the two of you.

The two of you drop your hands and immediately turn around.

“Fuck, yeah sorry, man.” Jason rushes.

“Sorry!” You call as the two of you rush back to the hole in the pile Jason made to help Tim.

Once Tim is out of the pile, Jason and you look him over quickly, making sure he isn’t missing a limb and nothing is deformed.

“I’m fine.” Tim assures the two of you, not missing the worry between you. “That was crazy though.” Tim looks around with ease, almost like he’s unbothered. You and Jason give him a confused look. Why is he so fine? “We caught a zombie Deathstroke and are fighting a few demons. I was also shot and killed by Scarecrow.” Tim shrugs casually, already growing used to seeing his life in danger which is not nearly as reassuring as he thinks it is.

“Alright.” You roll your eyes, wishing he'd give some insight on how he's able to handle things well.

“Sure, man.” Jason nods his head, unsure if he's completely convinced someone can just walk away from major traumas perfectly fine. “We’re still doing a scan. Let’s get outta here.” Jason jerks his head towards where he threw his helmet.

“You, too.” You state as Jason grabs his helmet and starts walking towards the exit.

“Me, too what?” Jason asks, adjusting his helmet on his hip.

“Scans.” Tim adds in as him and you start to follow Jason. “If you’re forcing us, you have to, too.” Tim states, thinking that's probably a good idea for all of you anyway. Jason's limp doesn't go unnoticed by Tim and Tim can feel his shoulder starting to ache. He knows you took the brunt of the force.

“Aww, you’re learning." You chime.

Jason lets out a groan, swearing he's the one that's fine. He was not crushed by a building but he's not in the mood to fight with either of you. “Fucking fine.” He doesn’t bother protesting knowing damn well you will get what you want. You will win. You always win when it comes to him.

The three of you get on your bikes and head out of the city and to Wayne Manor, something Tim is very excited about. He wasn’t really going to complain about getting any scans done. Getting scans means going into the Batcave again and this time, it won’t be taken over by Crane. Getting scans means getting to actually hang out in the Batcave this time. Tim would never turn down the opportunity now.

You still want to protest but you saw the worry over Jason’s face. You feel fine besides a headache. But, you aren’t going to take the risk for Jason’s sake. You think back to the times you said you’d die for each other and you think that’s easy. You’d run in front of a bullet for him even today. It doesn’t matter but making sure you're okay enough to live feels harder. You don’t want to die or anything but maybe you’d normally brush this off and then that might be it. But, Jason looks at you with all the love his heart could muster and you can’t do it to him. You can live for him, too.

Once you’re at the manor, the three of you use the tunnel to enter the cave immediately. Jason and you go to the changing area, Tim following right behind you. There are always extra sweats there, just in case in a variety of sizes. You grab some for you and Tim while Jason grabs himself a pair. The three of you go off into different changing rooms and get changed before you meet out in the med area of the cave. You go for the scan first just to get it over with.

Tim of course sits beside Jason as they watch the imaging load. It was something Bruce taught him to look for when Jason first got hurt as Robin. They look for internal bleeding, broken bones, swollen organs, anything they can't see from the outside. They can’t just go to the hospital every time they’re hurt. That would raise some questions so they do the scans here. If something is serious, they can go. Which has yet to happen in Jason’s time as Robin. But, he takes what he learned from Bruce and he passes it onto Tim.

Once your scan is over, you join the boys, sitting beside Jason. The scan doesn’t take much longer to load and it seems everything is okay. It's a relief for all of you even if Jason isn't totally sitting with ease over it. It's a relief but there is something still making him worry anyway. But he keeps it to himself while Tim jumps up, ready for his turn. Once Tim is ready, Jason gets the scans going.

With Tim is the machine, that leaves you and Jason to yourselves and Jason can't quite keep his stare on the computer. You've been hurt before and he hasn't felt like this. Once you get confirmation you're fine, it starts to fade away but tonight, it's as if he's run out of places to dissolve his worry and paranoia. He's not sure what he'd do if something happened to you.

“Let me help.” Jason points to the cut on your forehead before he gets up and grabs some of the supplies.

“Oh, uh, yeah, okay.” You nod before you sit on the counter.

Jason takes out the alcohol pads and carefully wipes some of the blood, you hissing in response. Jason mumbles a quick apology but continues working. It’s not bad. Jason doesn’t even think you need stitches and he thinks you're lucky. You though, you're just watching him carefully. So much has changed and yet this feels like nothing has changed. It feels like it did that first night after Jerry. Something about him moving carefully, gently, but a little rough. He doesn’t say anything and he dodges your eyes. And you think your stomach is swirling and bubbling just as it did that night.

“What’ve you been up to?” You ask quietly, eyes looking right at him.

Jason pauses, looking at you before he goes back to cleaning the cut on your forehead. He shifts slightly, the feeling of being exposed starting to fade right over him. “Usual.” Jason answers. “Taking out dickwads, reading, researching, helping Babs.”

You looked in the mirror after you changed, the cut wasn't bad. He should be done by now but he's taking his time. He's still dodging your stare and he's minding his right leg. His mouth is pressed into a straight line. He's seemed okay besides tonight, happy even. You really hope this doesn't set him back because he should be happy. It's what he deserves. And you wonder if it was all just some sort of facade because Jason hates people knowing what he's thinking. Maybe it was just an act for Tim or for you for some reason.

You hope not.

“Are you happy?” You whisper to him, hoping he'll be honest if he's not and hoping he really is happy with the life he's making for himself.

Jason freezes.

Maybe in the grand scheme of life he is. Generally speaking, he thinks he’s happy most days. He isn’t miserable. And his relationship with Bruce is getting better and his relationship with all of the Titans is getting better. Molly is still one of his best friends. He likes what he does. But, he can’t quite bring himself to say he’s happy. It’s the ache in his bones he can’t shake and the white streak of hair that won’t go away. The Y scar that stares back at him when he looks in the mirror after a shower. The way his leg still fucking hurts sometimes and the nightmares. The panic attacks sometimes that seem to hit him like a freight train out of nowhere. The fact that he feels lonely.

He was so fine being alone for so long and then he was comfortable not being alone. Now, he’s just lonely. He lives alone and he spends a lot of time alone and it’s just lonely. His heart feels like it’s contracting in his chest while a lump finds its way at the base of his throat. And he misses you. Maybe he could live with that choice if it weren’t for everything else. But, he thinks he could live with everything else if he didn’t miss you so much.

“I don’t know.” Jason answers, not wanting to give the real answer but not wanting to lie entirely. “Are you?”

You think you're happy most of the time. You live with Molly so you aren’t alone and you're eternally grateful for that. And you have movie nights. You even have movie nights with Gar and Tim over FaceTime. You and Rachel talk a lot now and you’re on good terms. You love what you do and you love helping Babs. Bruce doesn’t want to kick you out of Gotham. Things feel like they’re getting better. The nightmares have gotten a little better even if you wake Molly up sometimes screaming. But the guilt always comes at night, weighing down every bit that could make you happy. The guilt of everything that happens just chews away part of your happiness as if you aren't allowed to be happy. And maybe you could live with it, if you didn’t miss Jason like you need oxygen. You miss him more than you could ever miss anything.

“I don’t know.” You answer the same way as if you understand and Jason feels seen so he shifts his feet, tossing the alcohol pads into the trash under the table. Jason presses his hands on the counter, resting them beside your thighs as he leans in slightly. He doesn't even fully realize he does it. “You deserve to be happy, Jay.” You keep your voice quiet as Jason’s brows pull together as if he’s in pain.

“So do you.” Jason nods once.

“What would make you happy?” You ask and aren’t sure why you did. Maybe you hope he’ll even jokingly say you and then that’ll give you a reason to tell your guilt to shut up and take a backseat. And you think he might say it because his eyes finally lock on yours and the pain in his face starts to fade.

He thinks it’s you.

“I don’t know.” He answers anyway because admitting it seems unfair to both of you. You’ve been here before and yeah, you both know. You both know it shouldn’t have been the way it was then but it’s different. He isn’t pushing to self-destruct. He just wants to be ready if he tells you and he isn’t sure he is. “What about you?” Jason asks, thinking if you say it, he’ll say it anyway.

You think it's him.

“I don’t know.” You echo and you shake your head before you lean forward, pressing your forehead against his. You feel him relax and you almost want to cry. Jason's hands slowly move onto your thighs and he wants to burst at the seams. You making the move tells Jason everything he needs to know. And Jason relaxing with his hands on your thighs tells you everything you need to know. It's still him and you. “Happy you’re here though…happy you were there tonight.” You say honestly.

“Me, too. Happy you came along tonight.” Jason says back as he pulls away but he keeps his hands on your thighs.

"Thanks for coming to save us." You offer him a subtle smile.

"Of course." Jason nods his head softly. "You and me?" Jason offers the same smile.

Your hand comes to his cheek, running a thumb along the skin and his shoulders relax. “You and me.” You echo.

It’s silent for a few seconds as if you’re both wanting to see where this will go. Unsure where you want it to go. Before, you both knew. You knew you wanted each other so you’d jump the second you could. But this isn’t that. You want each other but there is so much caution in it. You’re both terrified of overstepping boundaries and ruining whatever you’re trying to rebuild. You’re terrified of hurting each other again. You're both worried you aren't ready for something again. So as much as you both want each other, a part of both of you almost feels okay with waiting to make sure it’s right this time. For each other even if you both want to explode.

And then Tim clears his throat.

“Uh, so…am I gonna die again?” Tim quips making you and Jason pull apart.

“Yeah.” Jason answers immediately, glancing at the screen and earning a light tap from you which makes him laugh. Jason actually takes a second to look over the scans before finishing his sentence. “Eventually but not tonight. You’re fine.” Jason finishes.

“Shithead.” You mutter with the roll of your eyes but a smile finds itself across your lips.

“Babe.” Jason grins.

“You two are weird.” Tim mutters as he walks up to the two of you.

“Your turn.” You tap Jason on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Jason pulls in a breath and makes his way to the scan.

Once Jason is situated, you get the machine going before you look over Tim. The scans are clear and he seems fine. He actually looks really happy which you know is because he's sitting in the Batcave. He's still looking over the Batcomputer, his eyes wandering around the cave every so often. You can't say you blame him really but you're surprised and relieved he's handling things well.

"You can explore if you want, ya know?" You suggest.

"Really?" Tim's eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

"Yeah? You are Robin." You let out a soft laugh and before you can even say another word, Tim is out of his seat.

“What’s going on with you guys anyway?" Tim questions as he makes his way over to the case holding Jason's Robin suit, the blood still staining it. "Looked like I interrupted something.” Tim glances back at you and then the suit before he moves on.

“No.” You shake your head, keeping her eyes on the screen. “Catching up a little bit.”

Tim rolls his eyes and lets out a scoff. “You guys forgot I was crushed by a building." Tim defends, making his way over to the training area.

"I said I was sorry and so did he." You defend even though you know you'll be feeling guilty about that for awhile. "Don't tell Dick though."

"Wasn't going to." Tim chuckles softly. "Seems like there's something going on." Tim states as the cave falls silent. He looks over as you glare back him, very clearly unamused by his observation. "I'm just saying." Tim states as he shrugs his shoulders, going back to looking at the variety of knives Bruce has.

You let out a sigh and decide maybe you will ask Tim for his input. Everyone else knows so much about you and Jason, not just as a couple but as vigilantes. Tim, on the other, doesn't know that side of it. This is the first time Tim is actually even hanging out with Jason for more than a few minutes. He might actually be the perfect person to talk to.

“Alright, listen, can we talk about it later?” You ask. “I do honestly have a headache and to dig into that right now is not what I want to do. But we can talk about it later.”

“Alright.” Tim sighs as he starts making his way back to you.

“Any word about Bernard?” You ask as Tim takes his seat back beside you.

“No change.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.” You say softly. “You guys will figure it out. He’ll be okay.”

“Thanks.” Tim mutters as he leans onto his elbow.

Jason’s scans finish a few minutes later allowing him to rejoin the other two of you. You look over the scans, feeling relief come over you. You figured he was fine, Jason usually is. But, it is nice having actual confirmation he's okay even a part of you will still be glancing him over and watching him carefully just for extra security. Scans can be wrong.

“So?” Jason questions with a knowing look, knowing he is fine.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re fine.” You wave him off with eyes wide to mock him. “Just to be safe.”

“Yeah.” Jason pulls a breath into his lungs and he knows.

He wonders if you’ll always be more worried about him. With not talking now and the whole shit with Crane before, he hasn’t had too much time to even think about it. And you were so worried that whole time because of Crane and because he had just died. But, he wonders about now. Now that some of the dust has settled and you've been away from him. He can tell by how you're still glancing over him as if expecting him to start gushing blood from an invisible wound that you're worried. And he thinks you're more worried than you normally would be. A scan and a look over would usually be enough but not tonight. He wonders if it’s because he died. Maybe you’ll always be trapped in a spiral of worry knowing it might happen again.

Jason thinks that sounds like torture.

He wants to find a way to assure you he’s fine but he’s not really sure what he could possibly do. He’s not fine since dying. It’s hard to walk every day with that kind of weight around his chest but he is physically fine and he wants you to know that. He breathes today and he did yesterday. Before, he thinks he would have made a joke and then kissed you. It’s what he always did and it always calmed your nerves. You would have slept together and if he were injured, you would have known. It was always harder hiding any type of injury from you because either you’d see it, you’d catch him slipping, or he’d flinch when you laid down together. He can’t very well do any of that now. And he can’t possibly say anything because Tim is right here and the last thing Jason wants is to further expose himself to anyone else. So, he just bites back his comments and shrugs it all off.

“We can head back out if you guys are ready.” Jason suggests.

The three of you grab your things before you head from the Batcave and go back to Jason’s place. It’s quiet in your comms. Tim chalks it up to being tired, the adrenaline wearing off for all three of you. Jason just wants to get home and shake the night from his spine. You find yourself wondering if the gravity of vigilante life will ever wear off when something like tonight happens. You love it and you swear you do, it’s just really hard sometimes and you haven’t quite found the right way to cope with it.

You could have died tonight which is a reality most nights and it never seems like too big of a deal to you because it’s you and the person with a gun or a bomb or a knife. It’s just you. Not talking to Jason or seeing him has made it a little easier not to think about him doing the same thing. But tonight, the weight of loss collapsed your shoulders the second that roof fell. Jason pulled you out of the rubble. You heard the way his voice sounded, the tremble and the fear etched into his windpipe. You saw the look on his face when he pulled you out.

Panic. Relief. Panic. Terror. Anger.

And something else you don’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Something about the idea of him suffering in the way you did makes you want to turn the bike around and go as far as you can without looking back. And you think about how he could have been hurt again. You and Tim were trapped easily. What if he was, too? What if the roof fell on him and he died? You aren’t so sure you’d be able to survive the loss of him again. Even as you are today.

When you get back, Tim says a quick goodbye to you before disappearing into the building. Jason takes his time though, watching your brows pinch together as your stare falls anywhere but on him.

“You alright?” He asks carefully.

You nod and offer him a fake smile. “Yeah, all good.” You chew the inside of your cheek and you just don't want to go home. Going home sounds scary and like maybe it won't feel quite like home this time.

Jason nods back. “What’s wrong?”

He keeps his distance from you. He’s standing three feet away from you and he’s thinking that’s for the best. You aren't normally quiet after missions like this. It's as if talking always reassures you that you're both fine. But, tonight you were quiet and you look uncomfortable in your own skin. Jason doesn't want to overstep. He doesn't want to move closer and that be the real problem. You got a little close in the cave and Jason knows how you are with that. He's betting you still like to run so, he keeps his distance for right now.

“Nothing, why?” You ask and you keep your stance from him.

You want to kiss him and tell him you're glad he’s okay. You said it but you want to kiss him until he knows fully. Jason has never been one to take words at face value. He responds better with action and the only way you know to show your love for him is by touch. But, that's not fair to either of you. You would give anything to go back to how it was even if it's just for one night. You wish you could both forget everything that happened, pretend none of it happened. It would be so much easier that way.

“I always know when something’s wrong.” Jason sucks in a breath and he didn’t think he’d be the one pulling for answers from you.

You shake your head and lying to him never came easy.

You swore you’d never lie to him.

“Scary.” Your voice is so small and Jason almost closes the distance between you to engulf you in the tightest hug he could manage without hurting you.

But he cements his feet to the ground below him.

“You’re okay, though. So, is Tim.” Jason assures, his words careful.

“Yeah…” Your voice is still so small and Jason takes one step closer to you, knowing you and Tim aren't your full concern.

“I’m fine, ya know? Like…all good.” Jason keeps his voice level as his eyes scan over your face, looking for any change.

“No, I know.” You nod softly, your voice bigger this time.

You're worried he isn’t. The scans say he is and he says he is. You know he wouldn’t lie to you with you being worried. You know but you're worried anyway. He gets a second chance and he deserves it. He deserves it so much and you just want him to be happy and healthy. You want him to be able to live as the Jason Todd you fell in love with. You don’t want him to have any more trauma to try and bear. You aren’t so sure he could bear it anymore.

You think what would have happened if you didn’t get lucky tonight.

No part of you has to guess how it would go.

He’d blame himself. He’d torture himself inside and out just like you did.

“Just…” You shake your head. “Can you promise me something even if it’s not very fair?” Your eyes finally land on his.

“What?” Jason asks.

“If-if, uh, something happens to me…like anything, c-can you, uh,…not blame yourself, please?” You ask. “I-I know how you are and I saw the way you looked at me tonight. I know what it’s like and…” Your voice trails off.

“What?” Jason pushes, trying to wrap his head around the question. Of all the things you could be worried about, you're worried about how he'd react to you dying.

“I don’t want you to suffer for it.” You state. “You’ll torture yourself, I know you will. So, if something happens to me, can you promise me you won’t do that? Because I would never blame you.”

“What if it is my fault?” Jason scoffs. “Tonight--”

“It won’t be.” You cut him off entirely with so much certainty, it freezes Jason. “I know, despite it all, you would do everything to make sure I was okay. You, uh, you have always just, uh, j-just tried to keep me safe. So, if something happens, I know it won’t be your fault.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen anyway.” Jason answers back, digging his feet in because even a hypothetical question sends his head into a panic.

“But something did happen, Jay!” You yell back in desperation. “Something did!" Your eyes water before your voice comes back down. "I don’t want you to be like me.”

You nearly beg him and Jason is so thrown by what you say, he has to pause and try to understand. He swears you're the best person he has ever met. He loves you. He knows that it got messy but he also knows between those lines, him dying changed a part of you. It led you into a guilt you can’t shake and that he feels is on him. The least he can do is make the promise and try to keep it but he swears nothing can happen to you. He can’t let anything happen.

“Then you have to stop fucking blaming yourself, too.” Jason states back. “I died. That’s not on you." Jason says it so bluntly you nearly choke on your own heartbeat. "I promise but…you gotta promise me then you’re gonna stop blaming yourself, too. There was nothing you could have done.” The words are sour and bitter on his tongue. Knowing it was his fault he got himself killed is one of the hardest pills for him to swallow.

You nod your head softly and you can’t make the promise but you can promise to try. “I promise to try.”

“Good.” Jason states and he watches you tug your sleeve down over your wrist. Maybe he is very worried about you, too. Tonight was heavy and a lot to handle even if it all worked out. It almost didn't. Maybe it’s stupid but he doesn’t want to be alone tonight and he’s betting you don’t either. “Did, uh, did you wanna stay tonight?” Jason asks.

“W-what?” You stutter, the question catching you off guard.

“Did you wanna stay here?" Jason asks again, this time trying to make his voice sound far more casual than he's feeling. "Look, it’s not like we haven’t done this shit before.” Maybe he’s worried the scans are wrong, too and he just wants to look out for you. He misses you. “Just friends.” Jason assures you.

You were really hoping he'd ask.

“Can you, uh..."

“Of course.” Jason finishes before you get the chance to finish because he already knows. “I get to pick though, you picked the last three books.” Jason says with a tender smile and he gets one in return.

“Okay, Jay.” You nod as you take a step forward. “Thank you.”

“You and me.” Jason offers her his signature smirk with the casual shrug of his shoulders.

You stick your hand out and Jason takes it with ease. “You and me.” You echo while Jason pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders before the two of you walk into the building.

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[steddieunderdogfics]

Today is all about @oh-stars! In today's Mod Spotlight, we're highlighting Jo and all they bring to this space!!

Jo created this space back in December and handles most of our regular fic recs and scheduling Fic Fridays! As well as making graphics, scheduling the event announcements and calendar, Jo steps in to help where she's needed!

Jo (she/they) has been a fic writer for over ten years, and a mod for seven years. Over the years, she’s written for other fandoms, such as Marvel, but now primarily focuses on Stranger Things — specifically Steddie. She mods the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang, the Steve Harrington Big Bang, the Eddie Munson Big Bang, and created Steddie Underdog Fics back in December.

As a part of our mod spotlight, Jo answered some questions from you all and our team! You can read them below.

Be sure to stay tuned for more recs and future mod spotlights in the future!

What drew you to Steddie?

Truthfully, I couldn’t tell you. I’m a Steve girlie through and through, have been for years, but it’s something about his dynamic with Eddie that just clicked. It’s the same way I feel about all my major ships over the years. To me, and this isn’t a fresh take by any means cause I know I’ve seen others make the name connection, but Steddie has the same energy as Stucky from Marvel, Buddie from 9-1-1, and Superbat from DC, which are the other three big ships I’ve consistently the past few years. I’m a multishipper, can really see the beauty in other ships and dynamics for any of my fandom characters, but there’s something special about Steddie that I just don’t have the words for.

What is your favorite thing about modding this page?

This is so cheesy, but the community! I adore how everyone supports one another and discovering fics and authors I’ve never come across outside of the bubble I’ve found myself in. It’s such a joy being able to uplift authors and share their fics, it trumps all the headaches that can come with modding a page.

What are your favorite tropes to read?

I’m a sucker for kid fics, secret relationships, and hurt/comfort – especially heavy angst with happy endings.

What’s your guilty pleasure trope?

Omegaverse is the safe answer, lol, but probably darker fics? Angstier fics that I have to be super careful with the tags or else I can’t read lol. It’s not something I engage with all the time, but every now and then I go down the Major Character Death tags.

What is your preferred way to read and find fics?

I go through the tags very methodically, especially for a new fandom. With Steddie, it was a bit different since it’s the first time I’ve been around for the start of a ship – or at least paying attention to the ship as it’s forming. So usually I’ll either sort by date updated or word counts, then go through the tag I’m wanting page by page and read back to back. And if I make it through a whole tag, thats when I go to recs to see if I can find something to spark my interest for a new tag. Or for a tag I’d never really read on my own.

What makes a fic an instant yes for you to read?

Word count is a big one, the longer the better, especially if you add in a slow burn tag with a six digit wc. Otherwise, it’s a combination of things like a high word count, mix of slow burn, misunderstandings, happy endings tags, and it being completed, I’ll rarely hesitate.

Anonymous - Is there any older or lesser-known Steddie event from the past few years that you particularly love (if ongoing or recurring) or loved? Did you participate in any?

I really enjoyed the community over at @steddieholidayexchange (and the summer one). I’ve participated in many events over the years, from Steddie BB 2023 and a few other exchanges to ones I’ve modded like the Stranger Things Reverse BB, but that community was special.

@sidekick-hero - What makes a fanfic stand out for you?

How well rounded it is! With fanfic, I don’t want it to just focus on moving the plot forward all the time. Take the scenic route and let the characters breathe as they explore a number of side quests and plots as we navigate the main plot. Give me good dialogue, prose, interesting twists or interactions, and good character moments and I’ll be happy.

@worldswcollide - What advice would you give to someone who is interested in becoming a mod in the future?

Organization is everything and take notes!! Staying consistent with your organization and keeping records of everything will really help keep everything running smoothly. For events like big bangs and reverse big bangs that happen annually or semi-annually, it’s really important to keep a list of what works and doesn’t to improve the next run. Listen to feedback from your participants and see what you can adapt to make it work. Not all feedback has to be followed, but it’s good to try and see how you can improve your event or space. That’s where the records and notes will also come into play so you don’t have to start from scratch on the next one and you can back up what is working with evidence if you need to defend it within the team. Otherwise, just have fun. Don’t take it too seriously. Modding fan pages and events is volunteer work and meant to be fun, so if it isn’t anymore, don’t let it suck the joy out of fandom for you!

Anonymous - Do you participate in any other fannish activities, like making playlists, gif edits, fanart, podcasts, Pinterest boards, etc?

I’ve definitely dabbled in a lot – playlists, fan edits, fan art, animations, book binding, etc – but none that stick around as much as writing. I spend so much time modding I don’t really have the time to do more outside of it.

@sidekick-hero - What motivates you to mod for steddieunderdogfics?

My team and the continued support we get from our loyal supporters! We see the same names reblogging the call to action posts and engaging with the posts, so it’s really encouraging to see that our work has an impact in the fandom!

@worldswcollide -  Are there skills you’ve learned as a mod that have helped you in your everyday life?

I have literally used my modding experience in job interviews. I frame it as event planning and management, with an emphasis on customer service and organization and usually that’s a great talking point for interviews. That being said, it’s really broadened my spreadsheet abilities and organization and I view teamwork in a different way now. As a burnt out gifted kid who took on the brunt of team projects in school, letting people take over work has always been tough so having a trusted team that shows me I can hand things over, its really refreshing. And now I’ve been able to do the same at work!

Anonymous - Have you had a particular favorite Challenge Monday or weekend theme so far (maybe because of the theme, the recs, or the engagement, or for some other reason)?

Okay so a little BTS, but we totally have handpicked some themes for each mod. For my birthday back, we did kid fics for that theme weekend since it fell on that Sunday since it was my favorite trope – and the same has been extended for the other mods’ birthdays. Outside of that, I really like the ones that I don’t expect to get a lot of submissions. And the comment ones, since we try to encourage those submitting the recs to also leave a comment.

@sidekick-hero - What do you like best about fandom?

I’ve said it a few times already, but community. I don’t have the biggest community outside of fandom, so it’s always touching to see how amazing and supportive everyone has been. Social stuff is tough for me, but no matter where I look in fandom spaces, there’s always someone willing to be patient and kind. It’s really changed my life, introducing me to some of the most incredible, impactful people I’ve ever met like @karadanverss, @sparkstar-trash, and @lady-lostmind -- and so many others. No matter how cringe or whatever opinions people have about fandom, I’ll never be shy about my experiences in fandom and with fanfic because of the people I’ve met over the years.

@worldswcollide - If you absolutely HAD to choose—enemies to lovers or friends to lovers? (At least when it comes to Steddie)

This is actually super easy to me, but friends to lovers all the way. I prefer that over enemies to lovers anyway, because that’s a really tough trope for me, but there’s something special about friends to lovers. I love how sweet and gentle it is, especially on a longer slow burn as things trickle into place in a way that just feels right because it’s meant to be. Enemies to lovers, though, is tricky. Rivals are always fun, but actual enemies is a hard line to toe. For me, I feel like the reason they’re enemies is either too light to be true enemies or too heavy that it’s kind of impossible to realistically get past. I like writing both, but I think in the end, I prefer friends to lovers.

Anonymous - Have you seen any interesting or fascinating trends in the ST or Steddie fandom that you'd like to talk about?

For ST and Steddie specifically, no. I think it’s really fun to see how the fandom shifts as a wave. Like post S4 drop, we were all about the fix-its and canon fics, time loops were massive and the kas theory was really hitting after the last two eps. Then I feel like we’re constantly going in and out of tropes as a whole, while the staples are always constant. But all of that is pretty standard across any fandom so it’s hard to really pinpoint.

@sidekick-hero - What made you create Steddie Underdog Fics?

Steddie Big Bang 2023. That was a monster of a bang and between how big it ended up being as well as the nature of how Steddie exploded, I felt a little helpless. I was super lucky to have gotten a lot of attention on one of my fics, but I really attribute that to timing, length, and how quickly I got it written. Do I think it deserves how much love and attention it got? No, there are so many other amazing works that feature new ideas and concepts, with interesting takes on canon or the characters, that should have just as much attention as that fic received. But the bigger the ship got, the easier it was for fics to slip under the radar. I’m still very lucky to have dedicated readers on my works, but at the time, I was really struggling with my Steddie BB fic. I was struggling with some negativity on it and seeing other authors worry about their own fics because they weren’t getting feedback, then one thing led to another and I was creating the blog before I could really process it.

Anonymous - Have you seen a rec method like it in other places before or was there just a general desire to help highlight things lost in the large growth of the Steddie fandom?

@steddieficfind’s format of crowdsourcing helped shape how I wanted to go about this space. At the time, while I was reading a lot, most of the fics I was reading were ongoing updates or from the same few authors, and a lot were oneshots. So I would go on rec lists and @steddieficfindto find new fics that I may have missed when going through my usual tags, because summaries aren’t always accurate. I know I struggle with my own fics’ summaries, but seeing how a reader sees a fic versus the author can really help bring in new perspectives. Thinking about that, I decided that having other people share their recs and highlight fics in a new light other than the author’s summary could be an interesting take on the rec space.

@sidekick-hero - Do you look for different things in fanfic when you're reading it than when you're writing it?

Oh yes, I’m way more critical about my own fic than the ones I’m reading. With my work, I’m trying to get to a destination while my reading choices are about the journey. I just want to enjoy the fic and see what happens, I’m not criticizing word choice or looking at the craft as a whole. Sometimes its hard to shut that off, but I really try to separate the two.

@worldswcollide - How did you transition from writing fic to taking on such big projects?

I’m a bit of a workaholic when it comes to fandom stuff. I’ll do the bare minimum in my jobs (because they’re super low stakes, let’s be real) so I can devote a lot of energy to writing and modding my events and this page. That being said, I usually hyper focus on the newest project for a minute before I take a more balanced approach. It helps having teams that can support me, especially with ongoing projects like this one. There were so many times where I nearly deleted this space because it got too overwhelming on my own, even as I added more and more to it. I couldn’t be doing this without @spicysix and @verdantcactus. They’re willingness to help, earnest interest, and brilliant ideas on how we can work the space has been a game changer. I can’t thank them enough for taking on this project with me, for continuing to absolutely nail it week after week. So thank you both so very much!!

Anonymous - What is it about Bang events that draws you in, especially as a mod?

It’s addicting. Genuinely. I’ve been doing them for seven years now across a handful of fandoms. Modding is just so fun for me, it helps me engage more with new people in ways I’m too intimidated to try as just a participant. And again, the community is really nice within events, especially with everyone cheering each other on as we hit milestones and deadlines. I really appreciate that support and getting the opportunity to support others to try new things.

@sidekick-hero - What's the best feedback you've ever gotten (could be about your writing or being a mod)?

This is really tough! It’s one of two, both were from my favorite writing professor. It’s more advice than feedback about my work specifically, but it’s something I’m constantly thinking about, especially now when I’m a bit stuck writing wise as a whole. The first is that writing is a muscle, not a talent. You can always improve and get better the more you practice, but in the same vein that it’s harder to lift 50lbs when you don’t lift that much all the time, you can lose it too. Writing a little bit each day, even if it's a sentence or two at a time, will be better than letting it rest, because you can’t edit a blank page. And as long as you’re thinking about the story, playing around with what you’ll do next, what worked in a past scene or you want to change in another, that counts too. It’s still writing even if you’re not getting actual words down. The second is that if you’re blocked, look up the page. The answer is almost always two or three paragraphs before you stopped, or in bigger works, sections ahead. Finding the problem may be harder than expected, but it’s always there.

Today, all of our recs are from @oh-stars specifically! You can always see their recs on our Fic Fridays by checking our #mod stars rec tag.

[ggukiepie]

girl in luv (boy in luv pt. 6)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: jungkook finally tells you what you've been wanting to hear for so long...but you're still not happy

tags: bil!couple, college!au, bff!jk, two idiots in love, angst (what's new), fluff, happy ending !!!, kissing hihi

wc: 3.5k

a/n: lmaoooo hi im sorry this took so long. i didn't like what i originally wrote so i scrapped the whole thing and well here it is! i hope u guys like it. this is the last part for the series. tho i do plan to post some drabbles here and there (like their first time together maybe) but no promises anw thats its bye happy reading !!!! series masterlist / main masterlist

~*~

Your phone suddenly buzzes—someone was calling you. Though, instead of answering it, you stuff your phone between your couch cushions to block out the noise. You don’t dare look at your screen, sure you’ll get tempted to answer the call—whoever that was. You haven’t got much social interaction these days, always choosing to go straight home after each class, eating by yourself, declining invites to parties and hangouts. It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to be this way. You did this to yourself, really. You’d rather be alone than hangout with people. You didn’t have the energy to do so. You just wanted to be in your bubble a little bit longer.

Deep down, you know you’re craving to talk to someone. Anyone. But somehow you always end up alone. With your thoughts.

Self-sabotage, if you will.

The thoughts don’t help either. Your mind always drifts to Jungkook. Sometimes you think about him and his girlfriend. Most of the time, you think of your friendship. You missed what you had, even though you had to guard your heart every time, even if you got your hopes up at the simplest of actions. You missed being with Jungkook because for the time you were with him, he felt like he was…yours? There was no doubt that you were his. Had been from the start but didn’t realize it till later on. Your heart always craved for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t with you. Your heart felt lighter when you were together, be it doing the most mundane of things or sharing a special moment.

If you could just toughen up and tell him how you feel. But it was easier said than done. He already indirectly rejected you when he got together with some girl. But why would he reject you if he never knew how you felt? Maybe you were too busy protecting your heart, protecting the friendship you might lose if you would’ve confessed. You never thought he’d feel the same, even though you had moments that felt like he did.

You shake your head to rid your thoughts. You try to focus on writing the essay in front of you. Your Friday nights felt different now—stuck doing homework while your friends were partying.

You’re finally two pages deep when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You check the time on your laptop and see it’s a little past one in the morning. You suddenly rush to open your door, scared that you’d get a noise complaint all of a sudden.

You stand frozen, mouth agape at the scene in front of you.

“Huh?” you dumbly say.

It’s your three closest friends in your doorway. Jimin and Taehyung are somewhat conscious—at least they’re standing upright. But you notice the sway in their stance and you can smell the alcohol off of them. But it’s Jungkook between them that makes you freeze. He’s passed out, you’re sure of it, and the only reason why he’s sort of standing up is because Jimin and Tae have his arms around their shoulders.

“Why are you guys here?” you finally say.

It’s Taehyung who speaks up, smiling that smile he has when he wants something to go his way. When he has a plan that you might say no to (which you usually do). “Jungkook,” he points at Jungkook, as if you’d confuse him with anyone else, “is drunk.”

“I can see that,” you deadpan.

“And!” Tae rushes to say, like you’re about five seconds from shutting the door in their faces. “He kept asking for you. So we are simply complying with his request.”

“Because we are great friends,” Jimin pipes in. Taehyung nods in confirmation.

“Me?” you whisper, as if Taehyung were referring to anyone else. Your mind isn’t any better than his drunk one at this point.

“Yes!” Jimin whisper shouts. “Now let us in, he’s kinda getting heavy.”

Jungkook makes an incoherent sound from where his head is leaning on Tae’s shoulder, drool making a wet patch on the poor guy’s shirt. You take pity on your best friend and step aside to let in all of them, even though your heart’s racing because Jungkook is in your apartment.

Holy shit.

You watch them bring his unconscious body to your couch (they actually drop Jungkook and giggle all the way to your door, saying their goodbyes without looking back).

You huff at the sight in front of you. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed red and he’s a little bit sweaty. Though, he looks so peaceful sleeping on your couch. Was he really looking for you?

You get a glass of water and two aspirins, placing it on the coffee table near him. The moment you near him, you kneel by his head and wipe the stray hairs on his forehead. You look at Jungkook, like really look at him. His eyebrows are scrunched together like something’s troubling him in his dreams. His lips are in a slight pout, lip ring glistening under your light (when did he get that, anyway?), little puffs of air coming out his mouth.

“Am I…” he mumbles. Your heart races. His eyes are still closed, but his mouth continues to move. “Am I at ____’s?”

Your heart seizes at the sound of your name. You gulp and nod slowly, then realize that he can’t hear you. “Yeah…” you trail off. “You’re in my living room.”

“Oh,” your best friend says as his eyebrows scrunch up some more. “Missed you.”

You sit back on the floor and hug your knees to yourself, preparing for whatever it is that he might say next. A drunk man’s words are his sober thoughts, right?

“Jimin and Tae said you were looking for me?”

“Mhmm,” he mumbles. “Wanted to… tell you somethin’”

You shake your head. Though your heart yearned to know, you also do know it’s not the right time. Not when he’s drunk. He might just regret his words now the next morning, which might even hurt worse than what he’s about to say. “Save it for tomorrow, Kook.” You push yourself off the floor but he stops you by holding your wrist, albeit weakly.

“Nuh uh…” he whispers. “Need to know…now. Broke up with Jiwoo.” He opens his eyes slightly and looks at you right away.

“Jungkook—”

“Like,” he continues to say, “I did it for you.”

You feel your anger rising, your body heating everywhere. “I didn’t tell you to do anything,” you firmly say.

Jungkook moves to sit up and you take a step back. “No,” he shakes his head slowly. “Jus’ didn’t feel right.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you finally walk to your bedroom, slamming the door and locking it shut. You block out the sounds of Jungkook weakly calling out your name. Your fists clench in anger, the words Jungkook just uttered replaying in your head over and over. He couldn’t just dump his problems, turn around the narrative and make it seem like you made him break up with Jiwoo. That you asked him to end things with her because it didn’t feel right. And he forced himself into your home, your personal space—and drunk at that! He knew all your weak spots and used it to his advantage.

You hope he’d be gone in the morning. You don’t think your heart can hurt any more.

You hear pans clinking which promptly wakes you up. You weren’t able to sleep that much, actually, knowing Jungkook was right outside your room. You guess he stayed in the morning. He’s either cooking in your kitchen, or someone’s trying to steal your pans.

Rubbing your eyes as you open your bedroom door, you spot Jungkook by the stove with his back turned to you. He seems to be making scrambled eggs—which is the only thing he can make confidently.

“Morning,” you say. You might as well clear the air as early as now. You watch his back tense for a millisecond before he turns off the stove and sets the pan on your dining table. He turns to face you and brings a hand up to brush his hair back, a nervous tick of his that you noticed a few years back.

“Good morning,” he mumbles.

“So,” you start.

It’s so awkward you might cry again. When did things get this out of place? You start to rethink your feelings. You haven’t even confessed yet it feels like you’ve lost your best friend already. What if you confessed? What would happen then? You felt your heart closing just thinking about it now. Was your friendship really that fragile? You and Jungkook hardly fought but even if you did, you always made up right away.

“___,” he says. You look up, eyes meeting his instantly. “About last night… I’m sorry I suddenly barged into your place. I guess I really forced Tae and Jimin to bring me here.”

You nod and lean on the wall behind you, preparing for a long talk with him.

“I just really missed you, I guess—”

“Do you remember what you said last night?” you ask harshly, cutting him off so quick his shoulders tense.

Jungkook swallows nervously and nods his head. “Yeah and… I don’t know if there’s a better to say it, really. But we did break up, ____. She just wasn’t it for me.”

“And you said you did it for me,” you say, pushing him to just get to the point.

“Yes, because I realized that my heart never belonged to her. It belonged to you. Still does,” he says in a rush.

You eye him sharply, staring at his features and expression to make sure he’s completely telling the truth. You want to believe him, you really do, but why would he say that then be with someone else.

“It doesn’t make sense,” you finally say. “Why did you get together with her, then?”

“I don’t know—”

“You don’t know,” you repeat, and Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic. “You think you can come running to me right after a break up? Like I’m some second option? You don’t love her enough so you run to me instead?”

Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, mind thinking quickly to say something. His hands start to tremble and he brings a hand up to push back his hair. “I didn’t mean that,” he says hoarsely. “I didn’t realize it soon… And—” he stutters to catch his breath. “I was just scared—”

You’re fuming at this point. How could he do this to you? To just play with your feelings like that? “Get out.”

“____—"

“I mean it, Jungkook,” you shakily say. “You’ve hurt me enough. Just leave, please.”

He looks at you longingly, doe eyes watering before he nods and turns to the door in silence. You watch him put his shoes on before he leaves, not sparing you a glance. You don’t realize you’ve been tearing up as well, wiping the tears on your cheeks. Walking to the kitchen counter, you realize that Jungkook made chocolate chip pancakes. Your favorite.

It’s been a week since the incident with Jungkook and you haven’t talked to him since then. You also missed your weekly brunch with your friends, too afraid to face Jungkook. Thinking about it now, were you a little bit too harsh? Maybe. You thought you’d finally be happy upon hearing his confession but instead you pushed him away, shut him out. Because you’re scared. Terrified. Things were already going so well with Jungkook when you both were just best friends and you don’t think you can lose him forever should you actually get together and then break up.

Funny since it feels like you’ve lost him already.

It’s 8 am and you’re all alone in the student council office, trying to get some studying done as you were restless staying in your apartment. Staying there just reminds you of Jungkook, so you’ve been spending your mornings here before the other people arrive.

Suddenly, the door opens which is unusual. You usually have the place to yourself for at least another three hours. Curiously, you look up and find your best friend standing by the doorway, laptop and coffee in hand.

It’s silent for a moment, the both of you drinking each other in. Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gotten much sleep, eye bags dark and skin lackluster. You suppose you don’t look any better, knowing you barely got any sleep the past few days.

“Hi,” he finally says. You’re glad you have the long table separating the two of you. You don’t think your heart can handle being physically closer.

“Are you here for something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Can I…” He trails off, looking at the printer by the corner. You’d be laughing by now under normal circumstances. You nod instead, because it’s bizarre seeing Jungkook here asking if he can print something, which is something he liked to do back when your friendship was intact. The room is silent as you see him connect his laptop to the printer, both of you avoiding each other’s eyes. It’s too silent, actually, that it’s driving you a bit insane.

“How many pages?” you ask.

“Uhm… Fifty?” he says like he’s unsure.

“Fifty?” you repeat in a gasp. The printer is free, sure, but it’s ancient. Fifty pages will take too long and you don’t know if you can stand being in the room with him for half an hour or so.

Jungkook hands you the coffee he brought with him. “I bought you coffee as thanks.” He smiles ever so slightly and watches as you take a sip. Of course, it’s your usual order at the café down the street.

He looks at you expectantly but you’re too busy looking down at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to lock eyes with him. A few seconds later you hear him exhale and it’s just the sound of the printer in the room.

Your chest feels so tight all of a sudden like it’s ready to burst out of your ribcage any minute. It feels so heavy, so constricting that it’s starting to hurt physically. Is it really worth it harboring all this anger and pain? For conjuring up these theories in your head that will make you push him further away?

You shake your head to yourself and look up expecting to lock eyes with his, but his back is turned to you.

“Did you really mean what you said last week?” you blurt out.

Jungkook jumps in surprise and whips his body to face you, doe eyes wide. He looks surprised but he also looks relieved, and your heart breaks a little more seeing the relief cross his face the moment you talk to him.

He starts playing with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly. “I did,” he mumbles. “I mean every word I said, and I’m really sorry that everything had to turn out this way when I could’ve just been brave and confessed all those years ago.”

You nod your head at his words and process what he just said. Deep down you know you believe him, but it’s hard to keep that in mind when the hurt outweighs the truth. You look up at him with a sad smile on your face. “Why now, Kook? After all these years.”

He sighs and leans on the chair in front of him. You notice his shoulders deflate and his back hunch a little. He looks tired and you feel your own tiredness in your bones as well. “I was just scared. Us being friends was so comfortable and so good… I was just scared of things changing and me losing you.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from crying. Looking to the side of the room to avoid his stare, you whisper, “And I know—” you choke on your words and clench your hands in frustration. “And I know I’m at fault as well—for assuming and pulling away once you got together with her. I had no right because we’re just…friends.”

It’s quiet save for the printer and his feet shuffling on the floor. You turn towards him to see Jungkook slowly walking to where you’re sat. Once he’s standing in front of you, he raises his hands towards your face but stops midway. Like he’s about to hold you but he’s hesitant.

You’re tilting your head to look up at him, eyes shiny with tears but lip turned upwards in a small smile. It’s ok, you mouth, because you don’t trust yourself to speak right now. You watch Jungkook hold your face in his hands, thumbs going behind your ears to rub at your skin slowly, fingers splayed on your cheeks to wipe your tears away.

He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs gently brushing the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers shakily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, heart squeezing at the affectionate way he talks to you.

“I really am sorry,” he repeats. “I… Yeah, we’re just friends but I’d like to believe that we both just know. That you felt my love the same I’ve been feeling yours ever since. Even though we’re just friends. But…I know better now.”

You look at him confusingly and he looks away from you and smiles, his cheeks turning a light shade of red. You watch in silence as he plays with his lip piercing distractedly. Finally, he turns to you still with that smile on his face. His thumb starts playing with your lower lip but he’s looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes.

You’ve seen this look on him before, every time you’re with him, and now do you only realize that it’s a look full of love, desire, yearning.

“It’s scary if we do become something more and I end up losing you,” he starts, “but I’d rather live a life of at least knowing what it feels like to love you and be loved by you, than doing nothing at all.”

Tears are streaming down your face but you’re smiling so wide and Jungkook’s doing the same as well, with his nose even scrunching up and his dimples showing.

“I think it’s normal to feel scared,” you finally reply. “But I’d also rather live a life of us loving together than loving from afar.”

It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook stare at each other. He’s wiping off your tears which makes him cry a little more, so you wipe his tears next. You’re both crying now but with happy smiles on your faces and it prompts you both to laugh.

“We were kinda stupid, huh?” Jungkook says in between giggles.

You nod and giggle back. “A bit silly, yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asks. Your heart starts racing and your palms get clammy. You start feeling nervous but it’s the good kind, finally getting to do something you’ve been anticipating, been waiting for ever since you realized your heart belonged to your best friend.

“Please,” you whisper.

Jungkook wastes no times in leaning forward, his grip on your cheeks tightening just a bit, pulling you upwards to meet his lips. Your lips finally touch and it steals your breath away. Quite literally.

Jungkook’s lips are soft, slots perfectly right in between yours. He kisses how he holds you—gentle and careful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his tongue, and you grant his wish by opening your lips just slightly.

There are no fireworks or sparks or anything grand like that. Your heart suddenly feels calm and at ease. Like this is what you’re meant to do. It feels like coming home for the first time where everything feels right. You feel a great weight lift off your shoulders and you know you’ve made the right decision by choosing love.

Jungkook pulls back but only slightly so he can catch his breath. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours and when he speaks, you feel his lips move.

“I love you,” he whispers, and the way he looks at you with his eyes, like it holds so much love and adoration and it’s all for you. “Wish I said it sooner but I don’t want to think about that. Don’t want to live and continue on with regrets. I’m so happy to have you like this,” he whispers shakily. “So lucky to be able to love you like this.”

You kiss him again which causes him to smile so wide that his dimples pop out. “I love you too.” You giggle again. Saying it is so freeing and it feels so normal too. Not some grand epiphany or realization. Like you’ve known ever since. Like your heart has felt this way throughout your years of friendship with Jungkook and only now are you able to verbalize it. You know you’re lucky, too, to be able to have him in this way. But you don’t want to give too much credit to luck. You believe yours and Jungkook’s love were destined ever since.

[cherr-22]

TNGDH 24

I held up my hand to my forehead and looked up at the sky. The sun shined brightly with not a single cloud in sight.

“The weather is good.”

A wide smile spread across my face as I admired the beautiful, warm Blake estate today.

Pure white bricks laid neatly in rows and stalls lined up on both sides. Behind them were simple shops run by the people.

That’s right. Shops.

I admired the coin purse hanging by my side. It’s heavy. According to Kyle, I would have plenty of money even after saying ‘give me everything from here to there’ right now. 

While I didn’t plan on spending that much, isn’t good to have a lot? Even as Bae Soohyun I couldn’t enjoy such a luxury.

……To be more accurate, I died just before I got the chance to do so.

“Let’s go, porter.”

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and turned to Kyle. He was dressed lighter than usual and was looking down at me with his eyebrow raised at me.

There’s no point in giving me that look. Of course I’d call you a porter. It’s not like you would call this a date. In the first place, you’re the one who wanted to tag along.

I turned around ignoring his stunned reaction and lifted up the heavy coin purse.

No matter what, I’m going to use this all. I won’t die before these are all spent.

This is something I realized after dying once, but money should be spent while it’s in your pocket. I’ll show you what it means to earn like a Northern prince and spend like a hamster. 

“Slowly.”

He grabbed the back of my neck before I could run off.

I frowned and scrutinized him. In my mouth held a piece of jerky I received at the stall selling dried meat.

“…….”

“Whad. Whad ah yoo looing ah.”

What. What are you looking at.

“……Nothing. Keep eating.”

Wow. This is absolutely crazy. How on earth did they make this sauce? Can a taste like this even exist?

Must buy it now.

I bought two packs of jerky. As I took out a shiny gold coin, Kyle held onto my bags.

Nibbling on the jerky, I headed for the next shop. Here they sold a ‘bracelet that can make you healthy just by wearing it!’. That was what was written on a thick piece of paper next to it.

<Shocking news! Beneficial mana energy is flowing out!>

……What is this, a germanium bracelet or something? The color seems similar too…… this is obviously a scam.

On the other hand, Kyle who was standing next to me held the bracelet up with interest.

“Are there any sizes suitable for a hamster?”

As if there would be any.

In the first place, don’t think about buying one. That energy or whatever. Mana stone or whatever. Oh dear, this is giving me a headache.

‘Maybe I should’ve pretended that there are special demonic beasts with rare constitution that don’t develop mana stones.’

I sighed as I dragged him to the next shop. He would’ve put an order down for the hamster bracelet if we stayed there for even a minute longer.

“Let’s see. Where can I buy clothes.”

“The cape is very warm! Thick and light!”

“Scarves, buy scarves here!”

“Delicious demonic beast meat skewers!”

“Buy one get one free bag of peanut crackers!”

The lively atmosphere of the market brightened my mood.

I bought everything that looked good. The shopping bags drooping off of the Grand Duke’s arms- ah, no don’t do that. Hang the bags on your left arm, not your precious right arm.

“Shoes made from the tough leather of a Northern elephant!”

“Have a look at these pants! Even the Blake knights wear these as training uniforms!”

Obviously I can’t hold back on these.

“Here are sweet and sour tangerine candy. Come see handmade candy made by a craftsman with 30 years of experience!”

This, can’t hold back on this either.

“These are crepes. We’re selling for only one more day to commemorate for the festival!”

Definitely can’t hold back.

“This sure is great.”

The money was spent rapidly, and the once heavy coin purse felt lighter and lighter over time. Both of Kyle’s arms were fully occupied with my shopping bags.

“What’s wrong?”

I asked while holding crepes in both hands. Kyle replied calmly.

“You are more easy to satisfy than I thought.”

I’m about to sell out all the shops and yet you call me frugal.

As expected of the Grand Duke of the North, this kind of spending must be nothing compared to what he spends on a single hamster. Would I have to buy the entire shop to surprise you?

“Today, I will treat you. Would you like some of this crepe? There’s raspberry inside.”

I bought one for myself because it looked delicious but suddenly felt bad seeing the porter work hard all day long. Ah, such a kind heart I have.

He stretched out his neck forward slightly.

“I have no open hands to hold it myself.”

“……Ah. You’re right.”

Both hands were filled with bags. My bags. I did bring him as a porter but……

Still, isn’t he the owner of this land and the ruler of the North? He has been following me behind silently, but the eyes of the shop owners would pop out whenever they recognized him.

“There’s no other choice.”

After contemplating a bit, I raised one of my arm to hold the crepe in front of Kyle’s mouth.

He remained still, as if this kind of situation was new to him. What else do you expect me to do. Should I go buy another arm for you somewhere instead?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because it’s unexpected.”

Kyle lowered his head and took a bite out of the crepe. An entire corner disappeared in an instant. ……Was it that tiring to hold the bags?

“It’s my first time to be directly fed like this.”

[First time~ It’s his first time! 〜(￣▽￣〜)(〜￣▽￣)〜]

Stop celebrating.

“It’s not like you’re a demonic beast. Why couldn’t you be fed like this.”

“They find me difficult usually.”

“You wouldn’t be difficult if they interact with you everyday.”

I said as if it were nothing special.

He may be a solemn duke in front of others, but to me, he was just a hamster otaku who kissed me everywhere with no reservation. It would be even weirder if I still found him difficult to be with.

“Have we been seeing each other everyday?”

Oops.

“……Recently we have. We saw each other yesterday and the day before yesterday.”

I kept my arm held up for him to eat the crepe and then turned to my share of the crepe in my other hand. Let’s see. Cranberry whipped cream made from goat milk……

“Too sour!”

Kyle flinched upon hearing my cry.

“……Is this your first time having whipped cream?”

“No, I’ve had them plenty of times. Whipped cream should be fluffy and savory, and yet why does this taste like this? And to add sour cranberries on top of that. It makes it twice as sour!”

Kyle tilted his head in confusion and took another bite out of the crepe.

“Whipped cream usually taste like this.”

Seeing him, I bit into mine again.

Sour as expected.

“No. Crepes are usually supposed to be so sweet that it makes your mouth ticklish to be delicious.”

This guy knows nothing. The cloud-like fluffiness is the charm of whipped cream, and yet he doesn’t believe me.

At 9:30PM, I used to have a piece of fresh cream cake delivered from the cafe near my office. It was always the last order since the shop closed at 10:00PM. Roughly once a month, I would have it on a hard day to melt away my fatigue.

Those were hard times, but thinking about it now felt like old memories.

“Is that so…….”

Kyle held a serious expression.

“If you don’t like it, you should throw it away and eat something else.”

“What are you talking about? How wasteful. Besides, just because it’s sour doesn’t mean I can’t eat it.”

“Alright. Eat a lot.”

He finished the crepe and lightly squeezed my wrist to examine it.

“Small and skinny.”

What bullshit is he saying. I’m slightly bigger than the average Korean. I’ve never been told I was small. Especially with one insole in my shoe, my height reached 180 centimeters tall. A thin insole of course, not the thick one.

“Are you sure it’s not just you being too big?”

He let out a low chuckle.

“Eat lots of meat. Even with me protecting you, your body must be in good condition to go out on the reconnaissance. In the Blake territory, even the support units receive martial arts training, not just the knights and soldiers.

Kyle asked as I finished off my crepe.

“Do you have any weapons you can use?”

“No.”

“Any specialties?”

“……Ummm…… language?”

C language is also a language after all.

### programming language

“Besides that.”

“Eating a lot?”

In the case that I failed to develop the game, the lady who worked at the restaurant I frequented said I should try doing a mukbang.

### Mukbang is a live-stream where viewers watch the host eat

“Haaa…….”

He sighed deeply.

What’s wrong. Do I seem like luggage burden now that you think about it?

But consider yourself lucky. As long as I have the system with me, your future will be bright. It may sound odd, but just believe in me.

“Is there something wrong?”

I asked in a provocative tone.

“Are you already worried that you won’t be able to protect me?”

The nickname ‘Loser of the North’ would probably spread throughout the land if that were the case. It’s not like he gained fame as the ‘Bloody Grand Duke’ by killing innocent people. If he can’t protect even a single civilian, he would have to step down from his position as the lord.

His eyebrows furrowed upon hearing my provocation and laughed as if he were intrigued.

“You sure know how to provoke someone.”

“Thank you for the complement.”

Office workers usually fight well. Fighting with clients, fighting with their boss, fighting with overtime… I won’t lose to anyone anywhere.

“Where should I move this to?”

After busily walking around eating this and that, we ended up at the front of the Blake castle. He glanced at me as if to say that I would have to climb the stairs myself this time. I know, I know. It’s not like I don’t have legs.

I trudged up the stairs as slow as a turtle.

“I’ll be shoving them into an unused storage room.”

“Not the servant’s dorm room?”

“Yes. There are no space left for me. I was only able to go there in the past because Sen was with me.”

“…….”

How would I put all these bags into the break room of the servant’s dorm without putting up with the others’ stares?

I’ve been meeting with Kyle in the break room until now since I didn’t want to meet him in his study. Now that Sen has left, no matter how thick-faced I may be, staying there would be too much.

“I’ll get you a room.”

Kyle said it as if it were nothing. You can give away a room just by saying you’ll give me a room?

“……Huh? Really?”

“You must’ve forgotten, but you are also one of the castle’s people.”

Oh right.

“I request a room with a big window.”

If I’m going to receive one, I should get a good one while I have the chance.

With that, the items I bought from the stores today piled up high in my newly assigned room.

As expected, the world revolves around money.

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

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

T/N: I will not be able to post a chapter for next week so this is an early chapter, plus a bonus chapter 25 as an apology!

[obscureother]

🌑 ˚x'˙ intro. . ??

Hello. . !! im new to tumblr, so sorry if wonky things happen while im setting this up. im still trying to figure things out guys-

i lurk on other accounts for general content but im closeted n shy so i made this one to yell about things instead so i don’t expose myself to people i know lolol

if you know or find other profiles i own, i request you not expose it for those reasons before im comfortable to.

so this is just an f/o blog/journaling. . thing. I'm not entirely sure what content will be here, but it will be centered around f/os, self-shipping, and its just to give me a place to yell about the people that live in my/your brain rent-free and know they don’t exist but we pretend they do anyway for comfort reasons and serotonin, dopamine, uhh what other things feel good and ok??

some of it will be for you if I happen to think of something, other times it is for me to explode over my fixation f/os!!

youre also welcome to come yell about your f/os if you just need someone to talk to them about!! dont think i know em?? COME OVER and INTRODUCE THEM. you can come in DMs, asks, or however you want to!! id be happy to know your f/o or listen to you talk about them if no one else will :00

This is a comfort blog to me, so there wont be any room for meanness or intended offenses here. Dont come to me with troublesome things or somehow twist/morph my content into something its not, we're just here to have a cool time with our fictional people, bro. . :((

ok who r you tho:

To be honest, I don’t have a name or something to go by as of posting this, I might get one later or just make a new comment all fancy for the pin. . For now you can just call me whatever you deem good or just go off my blog/username!! Don’t be mean tho. i may take one you guys think of or figure it out on my own.

they/them

im 21 yo. (if youre a minor, i dont mind you coming to say hello, but do look below the other stuff content for what you need to look out for. you should also know some of you goofy kiddos have energies i dont know how to respond to sometimes, so dont worry if i get awkward or something, its not your fault lolol.)

im in college, so forgive me if im slow, im also just not on tumblr very often :v i dont ghost people on purpose i swEaR-

i might post my f/os on a whole list, idk yet, but theyll prolly be mentioned sometimes to the very least. you can def ask of them tho!! (edited: i made an f/o list if you want to see them.)

i dont know if ill post content of my own f/os or me/my sona for them, but it could be there.

i dont mind sharing f/os!! id love to yell about them together. if you dont like that, then its ok!! i either wont talk about them with you so you can be their person when we talk of them, or you can just block/not interact. ill be sad i dont get to meet you, but its ok.

other stuff:

Nothing explicit/detailed will normally be posted. but: The worst there will be is just being hormonally silly from kind of "rrr ovaries go brr, chew on theM-" energy of my f/os. i will try to create a tag to mark it with so you can exclude honky content if you want or need to later, tho. from what i know, you can "block" tags. . so i think that will work if you like the other goofy stuff on the blog??

(edited: I DID IT, I DID THEM, LOOK: 🌑obscure tags list for the obscure blog )

NSFW talk can be in DMs, tho.

DO NOT come to me with those concepts if youre a minor tho, oh dear GOD. honky grown-up talk is not for you goofy child-folk.

LGBTQ+ friendly!! im nonbinary and love everybody. youre ok too. 💙

i do roleplay sometimes, but only in dms n please dont go exposing our roleplays to others. . i would be very not comfy :"0

if you want to roleplay, you can dm me to ask but i dont have to say yes or i might not be able to. im slow too dfsdf=

i may or may not make a side blog once i figure out how to do stuff, but know that until then, im going to just post whatever on this one til i know how to do things on tumblr lolol.

forgive me if some of my content gets deleted, edited, whatever as we go. like i said, this whole thing is very new to me and its not very organized for now. its just there. its gonna get wonky over here on my side for a bit.

• tiny bat gif •

[skymoral]

🩵UNFORESEEN🩵

- Prologue -

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Fandom: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)

Relationship: Bi-Han | Sub-Zero/You

Characters:

Liu KangJohnny CageTakahashi KenshiRaiden (Mortal Kombat)Kung LaoReaderOriginal Female Character(s)Original Male Character(s)Kitana (Mortal Kombat)Mileena (Mortal Kombat)Harumi ShiraiGeras (Mortal Kombat)Tanya (Mortal Kombat)Original Female Character(s) of ColorOriginal Male Character(s) of Color

Additional Tags:

Black Character(s)Family FluffFamily FeelsChildhood FriendsFriendshipAngst and Hurt/ComfortBetrayalBroken FamiliesTournamentsFalling In LoveFirst LoveNear DeathRedemptionPeople Change PeopleLin Kuei Clan (Mortal Kombat)Game 12: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

“OMFG Y/N turn off the damn ALARM ALREADY!” Someone said covering there head with a pillow.

”Ughhh”

you get up with the little energy you have to turn the alarm off the phone. You squint looking at the time on the phone, it shows that it’s 9:20 a.m

You quickly shot up, “FUCK! We’re going to be late for our first lecture. GET YO ASS UP RHONDA!” You quickly got out of bed. Snatching Rhonda’s leg that was exposed from under the cover. Dragging her in the bathroom, which Rhonda left alone being to lazy to fight against it.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You both rushed out of your dorm room, running through the college to reach to there history class.

They peeked to see if there professor was facing the class, which luckily they weren’t. There back was turned, so you and Rhonda tipped toed inside and quickly head to both your seats, without being detected.

”Nice of ladies to join us today, I hope this doesn’t become a habit.” The professor announced as he was writing on the board.

”Yes Professor Major.” You and Rhonda said in unison.

about 30 min in the class he started going over Egyptian culture and it’s origin. Rhonda was sleep, and you had your headphones in listening to Nicki Minaj's new Pink Friday album. While scrolling through Instagram.

As you were looking at different posts, you had got a text from one of your other friends Tonya

•••

Tonya: “Hey Juicy Fruit, what you doing? :)”

“Nothing on the phone listening to music, and sitting in a boring ass class, PLEASE save a sister 😩😩”

Tonya: “Oof, damn that’s tough… Welp, I’m glad I ain’t you. Bitches like me need freedom 🤪”

”That’s because niggas like you don’t know how to act right. Probably would’ve not lasted either 😂😂”

Tonya: ”Bitch you ain’t funny 😒”

”I am, anyways will Jamika be at the shop today? I wanted to get some box braids done, I already bought some extensions.”

Tonya: “I do know she works today, I ain’t seen her yet. The shop open tho, and we don’t close until 8pm”

”Okay that’s fine, I’m a head straight there with Rhonda. After our classes, thanks boo😘”

Tonya: ”You welcome Juicy, make sure you study hard now. Don’t want my baby to flunk lol.”

”Girl Bye”

Tonya: “😂😂😂”

•••

You put your phone down, as you continue to listen to your music and take notes down from the board for you and of course Rhonda.

Knowing she’s going to ask you to do it anyway. The lecture was finally over and you slapped Rhonda awake. 

“Damn you almost knocked my weave off.” Rhonda told you as she was straightening her hair, putting it back in place. You chucked a little as ya’ll head to your next class.

”Then you need a new hairstylist, as in go to a professional and not do it yo damn self.”

”Nah bitch, just keep them motherfuckin hands to YO SELF.”

”Don’t fall asleep and I will.”

”Whatever, uh oh Ex alert.” Rhonda informed you. You looked up from your phone and noticed your ex-boyfriend Oscar.

”Well what a pleasant surprise, you look stunning as always Y/N.”

”Oscar haven’t you heard a song called, to the left to the left.” Rhonda did a little dance and hand gesture to the left, for him to leave.

Oscar rolled his eyes irritated but went back to his fake smile, “Oh Rhonda I didn’t see you down there. The adults are having a conversation.”

Rhonda wanted to back hand him, but you held her hand back. “What do you want Oscar? We’re trying to get to class.”

”I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend. I thought you two might get along, Jovanni!” He shouted behind him, she quickly came towards the group. Hugging him then giving him a kiss.

”Jovanni this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jovanni Simpson, Babe you remember when I told you about her.”

You looked at Jovanni, and you had to admit she was a beauty. Gorgeous milk chocolate skin, with a beautiful smile. Tall with an hour glass figure, long black hair and just everything about her was gorgeous.

”Damn girl, yo baby hair is on TEN! WHO does your ha-OW!” You nudged Rhonda’s side.

”I do my own hair I’m a Hairstylist and cosmetologist on the side and studying to be a nurse. I’ll be interning to the university hospital in Miami, this year. One of the biggest hospitals in our state!” Jovanni told them, with a huge grin.

You know she wasn’t trying to piss you off or try to come off that she’s better than you, but you still take it as such.

”W-Well, my girl Y/N is… you know… AN ACTRESS!”

Everyone looked at Rhonda confused, you gave her the angry smile. 

“Really!?” Oscar and Jovanni questioned looking at you. You just smiled at them nervously and embarrassed.

”Yep and she knows JOHNNY CAGE!”

”The JOHNNY CAGE! OMG! I LOVE HIM!” Jovanni bounced.

”Babe she fuckin wit u, she ain’t no actress nor does she know Johnny Cage.”

”Ha! How would you know? Its okay to admit, that I’ve accomplished more than you."

”Stop cappin! Just admit that you ain’t got shit goin for yo ass. I bet you ain’t got no proof.”

”Oh really!? I’ll show yo ass proof!” You snapped back.

”Yeah she gonna be in Johnny’s Cage upcoming, movie the movie he announced he's producing and directing called, ‘Mortal Kombat’. And you both are invited to the premiere when it comes out.”

“Rhonda hun.” You whispered to her, nervously.

”We’ll even take pictures while we’re on set and post it on all her socials.” Rhonda told the two who looked at Oscar irritated and Jovanni excited and shocked.

”Wow! Damn look at the time, we better getting going to class.” You said quickly dragging Rhonda to ya’ll class. You both quickly settled down, you slammed your head on the desk arms folded.

”Ughhhhh… Why can I never have a good morningggg… WHY DID YOU TELL THEM THAT RHONDA! I don’t know that nigga nor am I gonna be in any movie. I’m already irritated he has a hot successful girlfriend in the making… When I have no evidence, I’m a just be embarrassing my black ass for no reason…. I wanna go home…”

”Listen don’t let that clown and his thot get you down. I know what will cheer you up babe.” Rhonda pulled out her phone and put on BTS “Butter”

”Smooth like butter, like a criminal under cover.” Rhonda began singing to your favorite song and moving to the beat in her seat as they wait for the professor. You looked up smirking shaking your head as you knew she wanted you to sing along to the beat. "Gon pop like trouble breaking into your heart like that." You continued, She got up and pulled you up with her. ya'll started dancing, everyone staring at you both, you both sang " Ooh when I look in the mirror I melt your heart into two I got that superstar glow, so  Ooh(do the boogie, like)."

As you both were singing and dancing, there professor came in behind them looking at them. There professor started dancing behind them badly, the whole class started laughing. You and Rhonda danced turning around and completely stopped when you saw the professor. Rhonda turned the music off laughing at the professor, he stopped looking at the girls smiling. "I've been an ARMY sense 2013." You were definitely shocked by that news, "Well I guess were both apart of the ARMY." you laughed, you did feel a bit better, he had everyone settle down for the class to begin.

It was now 12:00pm ya'll only had two classes for that day, and luckily you didn't have to work at the movie store in the mall today. Like you said earlier to Tonya, ya'll was headed to the shop to get your hair done. You were thinking you and Rhonda could go out for some drinks.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Ya'll made it to the shop and you greeted the ladies, "HEYYYYYYY!" The four of ya'll say in unison. You were friends with the girls at the salon for a month, but it's like ya'll knew each other forever. You meet them at a club Rhonda took you to, after Oscar cheated on you and you were balling your eyes out to her. So she wanted to do something to get your mind off it, so dressed up really cute but still depressed.

Jamika had complemented you on your outfit when you were at the bar, she came in with Tonya and another girl named Ashanti. You started crying again after saying thank you, and they wanted to know what was wrong. Rhonda gave them the rundown and Ashanti related with your pain, they tried comforting you and everything went well from there and ya'll became friends.

"So how long are we talking babe?" Jamika took you to her chair.

"45 inch and can it be curly at the ends, you know wavy and shit. You know what I mean, I already know it's going to be cute." You sat down giving her the hair. You already took out the old hair with Rhonda's hair.

"I got you babe." Jamika replied, getting ready to feel with what she's working with.

Rhonda sat in one of the open chairs next to you, "Ya'll ain't gonna believe what just happened on campus, I wanted to beat that boys ass so badly!"

Rhonda was telling everyone what happened, which you felt slightly embarrassed, because you didn't want everyone in your business. She even told them about the part of knowing Johnny and now she has to show proof and stuff, "I dug a hole for myself with that one." You said as Jamika was washing your hair. Jamika and the other workers looking at each other, "Is something wrong?" You questioned.

"No it's just that, We a-"

Jamika was cut off as Ashanti entered, "OMG! I'm so sorry I'm late. There was traffic and shit happened at the apartment, al-"

"Mhmm, set up please." Jamika chuckled, she put you under the hair dryer after adding conditioner.

"Hey Ashanti I think ya girl Y/N need to talk to you about something." Tonya shouted to her. "Sure! Wassup girly?"

Tonya pulled her to her whispering in her ears, Ashanti nodding understanding. Ashanti came and sat next to you after setting up her spot, waiting on a client. "So I heard the run down from Tonya, I can help you meet Johnny." She smiled, you looked her confused, "How? You know Johnny?"

As you were getting your hair done, Ashanti told you of how she met Johnny and how they became friends, as well as a date she had a couple weeks ago with one of Johnny's friends. You were so amazed and shocked that you knew them for a month and they never told you this. They didn't think it was there place to say anything and didn't know if they should, plus you were busy with school. You couldn't believe that Mortal Kombat mumbo jumbo was real.

"Johnny told me there having a big get together in a place called outworld next weekend. He invited me, I can ask to see if I can bring any plus ones." Ashanti smiled at you, you wanted to spring into a hug so badly. But remembered who chair you were in, you gave many thank you's.

"I'm up for meeting some cute sexy men." Rhonda said laughing with Tonya.

"You got a cute sexy nigga right in front of you baby." Malcolm blew a kiss and winked at Rhonda. Who only rolled her eyes laughing at him

"So my cousin told me about this bomb ass club down in chinatown. She said is fire, so are you ladies up for a little fun in China tonight after we get off! Malcolm you closing today." Jamika told the girls, Malcolm nodded.

"Girls Night! It's been a minute sense we last had some good fun... Now the question stands... Who paying?"

"NOT IT!" Jamika, Rhonda, Ashanti, and You said in unison quickly. Leaving Tonya to take the bill.

Tonya shaking her head working on a clients hair, "You hoes get on my nerves."

"Tonya make sure to bring me something back, when ya'll done, you know what I like." Fredrick asked her, she nodded.

"I gotchu big poppa."

You were excited, I think you need to let loose again and have some fun with the squad. You definitely gonna snatch a few eyes in the club.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You wore a cute short black dress, stopping at you're thighs. Strapless just enough to show off your ladies, making them more define. Makeup on hair in a up due and 6 in heels.

Rhonda looked just as cute with her tight leggings and tight crop tight with big poofy sleeves. She had a green and gold look going, You were black and gold of course. The classic style, you were very simple but cute.

Jamika volunteered to drive all of you to the place, she picked you and Rhonda up at 8:30. She was supposed to be there around 8 but Tonya wasn't ready and still getting dressed. "Ya'll already know black people don't never know how to be on time for shit." Jamika said taking a smoke from her blunt before driving off. If ya'll wanted to have fun, ya'll first was going to get high for it.

Ya'll made it to the place, and you had to admit it was poppin. The music was on point and everyone seem to be having fun. You just hope the drinks ain't shit that is your best friend in any place, and you headed straight there. There girls followed you and everyone grabbed a shot of vodka.

"TO GIRLS NIGHT!" Jamika shouted, you and the ladies toasted to that. The burning feeling in your throat felt amazing, you're hoping to find someone nice while here if possible. Some of you took more shots, you having the most. Ashanti already told you and the ladies she'll try to be the most sober one, so everyone else can have fun and be white girl wasted.

Your song came on and you and the girls was dancing to the music, you were having fun as you were lost in the music. Then you accidentally bumped into someone, "Ooh sorry, got to into the music." you apologized, your were a bit tipsy and high but you could've sworn they said something in a different language.

He turned back to you as he was done saying something to his friends, "It's alright, I hope you are enjoying your time um..."

"Y/N! The name's Y/N." You said that louder than you wanted to as the music calmed down, he had an Asian accent and the cutest smile when you told him your name.

"I was going to get some fresh air from the crowd, would you like to accompany me?" He gave you another sweet smile, all you did was nodded slowly. The liquor kicking in stronger, he held out his hand for you to grab and you took it without hesitation.

You don't know why you weren't more caution about following a stranger, but he didn't seem like a bad guy to you and maybe it could lead to something fun.

As you made it outside, the cool breeze felt nice. He took you to the side of the building, he pulled you close to him. Kissing you hard, your eyes bulged out as you tried to push him off you but then you felt something go in the side of your neck. He finally pulled away, you were becoming dizzy. Before completely blacking out, you should've known better than to go with some weird ass man.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You were slowly regaining consciousness, you had a massive headache. Hangovers are not your thing, as you moved you felt that you were tied up. You moved harder and when your vision cleared you see a bunch of other girls tied up.

You sat up looking around, you were in a car. Your mind immediately ran 80 miles per minute, you didn't know what was going. "W-W-Where am I? W-What's happening." You asked one of the women in the cart with you.

"We're being sold to the Red Dragon Clan, to be a concubine to the head of the Red Dragon." One woman answered you.

You were in the midst of human trafficking and being sold to see random bastard as his personal whore. FUCK THAT!

”We need to get out of here!” You slowly stood up, not trying to make your headache worse.

”And do what, there is no way for us to get out. The door is locked, nothing is in here and they have the keys. So you might as well make yourself comfortable little girl.” One woman looked at you irritated, you can tell she was was trying to make the situation worse.

”I’m sorry, If I don’t want to be sold to someone that wants to SCREW ME TILL I PASS THE FUCK OUT! LIKE A DAMN RAGDOLL! If you aren’t going to give any ideas then please SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

All the girls in there looked at you with wide eyes, not saying anything behind that.

You had to calm down now, you looked around. You could tell the cart is wobbly, one thing she was right. There isn’t anything they can use to get out, except maybe… You looked towards the door, it looked weak and worn out. There was 10 girls in here including you. Only 4 big women, so only one option. You’re praying it works but it’s the only option, and you need to be quick.

”Okay! If you want to get out of here, you have to help me. This cart is not stable and the door looks worn out, if we all slam our weight on that door. Maybe… Just maybe it’ll break and we can get out of here.”

”While there in the middle of the road?” One girl said.

”It���ll draw more attention if it’s in open place. They wouldn’t be able to risk being in the public eye.” You answered the quiet talking girl.

”And if it fails?” The agitated woman from before asked you.

You sighed, “Then we can have fun getting fucked to death. But if you’re only going to say negative shit, stay your ass over there. Those that want to at least try, stand up.”

They all looked at each other, you were happy to see all of them stand up. You had the biggest and thickest ones up front. Everyone in formation, “Ready… 1… 2… 3!” You yelled.

All the girls slammed on the door having there arms tied they slammed and put all there weight on the one side. Which made a loud sound, and the cart slightly leaned. The door bent a little.

The ladies could hear them talking, so you all didn’t waste no time doing it again. As it was working, and you all did it one last time. The door finally breaking open and all the girls rolled out, cart swinger hard to the right. Making the car lean with it and flip on its side.

You looked around, and noticed you were definitely far from home. You don’t know how long you were knocked out, but you prayed your friends knew you were missing and called for help. If help knew where this was. It didn’t seem like a place with not really anyone around to help you out here.

The men were getting up trying to get out the car. “RUN AND SCATTER!” You yelled to all the girls. You didn’t have to tell them twice.

You ran kicking off your heels, you dipped out as fast as your little feet could run. You heard the men not far from you, you continued to find somewhere to hide, as you were yelling for help. You don’t know why you’re not running towards a city but a forest. You looked behind you as you couldn’t see or hear the men following you.

You slowed down to catch your breath, as you doubled checked behind you. You bumped into someone, quickly turning around and gripped your throat. He looked as though he was dressed in Ninja attire Red and Black.

You were trying to break free as you were losing oxygen. “You’re the reason our pets got away. The master will not be pleased.”

”P-P-Plea… P-Please…” You tried to speak will trying to catch your breath. Tears coming out of your eyes, as your grip became weak.

”As punishment you will die.” He told you, and you couldn’t believe it was going to end like this… You wondered why this was happening to you. You didn’t believe you were a horrible person, but horrible things usually happens.

”I don’t want to die.” You squeaked out what you believed your last words would be.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A/N: Sorry Bi-Han isn’t in the Prologue :) but he may show up in the next

I hope you ladies like it, I worked a hot minute on it and will be combining the other stories and adding ya’ll friends from the other stories💅🏾

A03: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/53070346"><strong>Unforeseen</strong></a> (3533 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoralSky"><strong>MoralSky</strong></a><br />Chapters: 1/?<br />Fandom: <a href="

[baileypie-writes]

Ok this one is interesting so any pretty cure girl of your choice with a big sister reader where the reader finds out that her sister is a part of pretty cure and decides to help them because they won't let anyone hurt her little sister at all and the villains are absolutely scared of the reader because the reader just has that scary big sister energy and the reader is not afraid to teach the villains why they shouldn't mess with her

A/N ~ Sure! I decided to go with Cure Coral, because I thought she would go well with Reader’s energy. Hope you enjoy!

~Not on my Watch~

Sango Suzumura/Cure Coral + Big Sister!Reader

~~~🪸~~~🪸~~~🪸~~~

Fandom: Tropical-Rouge! Precure

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Female

Relationship: Familial

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Synopsis: You just found out Sango is a Pretty Cure. Despite this, your big sister instincts are still intact.

Warnings: Cringe, Reader threatening a child(Elda), Reader throwing rocks in said child’s direction(not aiming directly at her)

(Reader would never actually hurt a child, she’s just trying to scare her. Though, I still don’t condone her behavior.)

~Masterlists~

~Tropical-Rouge! Precure Masterlist~

~~~🪸~~~🪸~~~🪸~~~

Sango sat across from you, a look of guilt and embarrassment printed on her face. She fiddled with the hem of her frilly skirt as she avoided to look you in the eye.

You found out. You knew that she was a Pretty Cure. You saw her transform and fight with her friends. After the battle, you dragged her back home, and demanded she tell you everything. So she did. And now, she awaited your response, with her friends standing to the side.

You sat in your chair, arms folded. All that she told you was marinating in your brain, and you almost struggled to believe it. But after seeing the girls summon a giant pink elephant, and having it power kick a monster, you realized it was probably all true.

“So,” You began. Sango and her friends jumped, nervous to hear your response. “you’re super heroes?” Sango nodded, still avoiding eye contact. “And you fight those monsters to save the Mermaid Kingdom?”

“It’s the ‘Gran Ocean’ actually.” Laura cut in, clearly offended by your incorrect naming of her home place.

“Right, right.” You half-apologetically replied. You looked the pink haired girl up and down. “So, you’re a mermaid?”

She chuckled, before magically growing a blue tail without warning. “Yes. And a beautiful one at that!” She held up her tail, waving it at you. “Wanna feel?”

“Uh no thanks. I’m good.” You refused her offer, slightly uncomfortable, and very taken aback.

“Humph. Suit yourself.” Laura huffed.

Finally, Sango looked up at you. “Are you mad at me?” She asked, mumbling.

You sighed. “No, I’m not mad. Just disappointed. Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you trust your big sister?”

“Of course I do! It’s just… Pretty Cure’s supposed to be a secret. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. And I didn’t want to put you in danger either.”

You smiled. “I guess that makes sense. But you don’t have to worry about my safety. It’s my job to worry about yours.” Sango smiled too, and rolled your eyes at your classic overprotectiveness. “Which is why, from now on, I’m coming with you on your fights.”

“What?!” All the girls shouted in unison. Sango shot up from her seat, about to argue with your statement. But before she could form the first syllable of your name, an explosion was heard in the distance.

Everyone looked out the window, and sure enough, there was a Yarane-da.

“Twice in one day? That’s new.” Asuka said.

“Let’s go girls!” Manatsu ordered. Everyone nodded, and made their way out of Pretty Holic, and began heading towards the Yarane-da.

You tagged along behind them, hoping to go unnoticed by Sango to avoid argument. But she heard an extra set of footsteps, and stopped in her tracks.

“(name), please go home. You could get hurt!”

“Remember what I said earlier? You don’t have to worry about me.”

“But-“

“Hey!” Asuka interrupted. “Let’s leave the sibling quarrels until after the battle okay? (name)’s already here, so it’s too late to do anything.”

You smiled smugly, as your sister sighed.

~~~~

It was obvious when you arrived at your destination, because there was lots of destruction. There were also people lying on the ground, completely uninterested in running away from the danger, or doing anything for that matter. You remember being informed earlier about motivation power being stolen, so you assumed that’s what was going on.

Your attention snapped back to the girls when you heard them shout something along the lines of “Tropical Change”. Before long, they were in their Pretty Cure forms. You’re sure that you’d never get used to seeing Sango with that much hair.

“Finally, the Pretty Cure are here! What took you so long?” You heard a high-pitched voice say. You looked up to the direction of where it came from, and saw a strange half-shrimp-half-child thing. Next to her was the Yarane-da, which was in the form of a plate. You and everyone’s reflections were looking back at you on its shiny surface.

“Who’s the kid?” You asked Sango.

Said kid turned towards you. Her expression changed to a nervous one, and she ducked behind the edge of her floating boat thing. “And who are you? You look much too lame and boring to be a Pretty Cure. Not to mention scary…”

You huffed, annoyed by the girl’s bratty voice and behavior. “I, in fact, am not a Pretty Cure. But I’m a strong ally. And you better not do anything to hurt my sister!”

The girl-shrimp snickered mischievously, putting on a brave face. “Oh? Or else what? You gonna hurt me?” She puffed out her cheeks, and put on some puppy eyes. “I’m just a little kid, you know. You wouldn’t hurt a little kid, would you?”

“If you hurt my sister, then yes, I definitely would.” You bluntly stated without hesitation.

Her cute, innocent expression shifted into one of fear. “What?”

The Pretty Cures’ eyes went wide in shock, and they all slowly craned their heads in your direction. But you payed them no mind. Your eyes continued being locked on the girl’s.

“Yeah. I won’t let anyone hurt Sango. I’d fight anyone and anything to keep her safe! Even a weird shrimp-child!” You shouted without shame.

Sango was absolutely embarrassed. She was hunched down slightly, and her hands were covering her face, which was beet red.

“You’re mean!” Cried the girl. “Get her, Yarane-da!”

As commanded, the Yarane-da began walking towards you. But you weren’t scared. Well, not that scared. In fact, you had a plan.

You darted at the Yarane-da with full speed. You jumped, and collided with its center. Being a plate and all, it wasn’t super heavy, and knocked down pretty easily. You stood up, completely pinning it down. But you knew that just your weight alone wouldn’t be enough to keep it down. “Girls!” You yelled to the Pretty Cure. “Stand on it!” They followed your order, running over and joining you.

“How about we finish this thing?” Minori, ah, Cure Papaya requested.

“Sounds good! Back up, (name)!” Cure Summer told you, gently shoving you away.

You did as she said, backing up many feet. You watched in amazement as they did their power move a second time that day. This time, you laughed as the big elephant completely destroyed the Yarane-da.

“What? How did you beat it that fast? No fair!” The shrimp girl whined. She then proceeded to flop on her back, and throw her hands and tail up in the air while screaming; throwing a tantrum.

“It’s like I told you; no one messes with my sister! Not on my watch!” You yelled up at her.

The girl got up. Her face was scrunched up in anger. “You’re so mean! Just wait until I tell the others!”

“Go ahead and tell them! I’m not scared! Anyone who messes with Sango will have to go through me!” You said. You picked up a few rocks from the ground, and proceeded to throw them in her direction. You weren’t actually going to hit her, of course. You just hit her floating boat thing. But that was enough to scare her.

“Eek! Okay, okay, I won’t tell! Just don’t hurt me!” She cried over-dramatically. She then floated away to the direction of the ocean. You could hear her crying “She’s scary!” as she did so.

When she was no longer in sight, you turned to the girls. You wore a proud smile, both for you and them. They de-transformed, and ran over to you. Manatsu was immediately cheering. “You were so cool (name)!” You chuckled as she jumped on your back, nearly knocking you down.

“You weren’t actually going to hurt her… were you?” Minori asked, concerned.

“Goodness no! What kind of person do you think I am? I was just trying to scare her.” You responded.

“Well it worked. She ran with her tail between her legs.” Asuka said.

“She didn’t run, she flew. And she doesn’t have legs.” Minori stated.

“You know what I mean…”

You all laughed. But that’s when you noticed Sango was standing off to the side, away from the group. “Sango?” You asked. “What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t have to do that.” She mumbled. She was looking off to the side, avoiding eye contact.

You smiled, and walked over to her. You stopped just about two feet in front of her, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, I did. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if my little sister got hurt.” You pulled her in for a hug. Sango didn’t reject. In fact, she hugged back. But not without a playfully annoyed sigh. You could practically hear her roll her eyes too.

“I know. Thanks.” She said.

After a few seconds, you let go. The other girls were standing off to the side awkwardly. You laughed, feeling bad for making them watch you and Sango’s sibling moment. “So!” You clapped your hands together, about to declare your idea. “How about I buy us all some Tropical Melon Bread? To celebrate our victory!”

The others cheered in agreement. You turned back to Sango, giving her a small smile. “Let’s go!” You said, before taking off running.

“Hey, wait! Don’t leave me behind!” Sango shouted, before trailing after you. A grin crept onto her face as she attempted to catch up. You could be overbearing at times, but she knew that this was just you being the best big sister you could be.

~~~🪸~~~🪸~~~🪸~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven! 👋🏻 I just went through your #my art, and i wanted to tell you that i really really really like your artworks of Miss Raven and Co. You truly put a lot of effort into your artwork, and it shows! With each new drawing, you seem to be getting better! ✏️💕

As i mentioned earlier, i really liked your Miss Raven drawings! they're so cute! especially when you drew Miss Raven in alternative clothing. I also like how much detail you put in your designs for Miss Raven, like the ones for the Fairy Gala or Masquerade Ball are so beautiful 🥺 and still fit her character!

The one you did with her wearing different dorm uniforms from each dorm was such a cool idea! it was interesting to see how she may have appeared if Miss Raven was transferred to said dorms! call me biased, but i liked the octavinelle design the most 😂 but poor Miss Raven. If she had to work part-time in Mostro lounge, she'll have to avoid two predatory Eels 😭 One wants to tease her while the other either wants to squeeze her or dump all his work on her cuz he isn't feeling it today, then there's Azul who takes advantaged of the fact that Miss Raven is close to headmaster Crowley and makes profit 📈 Run Miss Raven Run!!!

Anyway, I think i'm going to steal her away and fight off a certain dangerous and manipulate Eel, a Skilful Hunter, a Lazy Lion, and a dude with the power of christ (idk is Rollo x Raven even a thing?!).

I always look forward to seeing a new artwork of yours truly~

[Referencing this tag!]

Wehhh 😭 I’m glad you find enjoyment in my silly little doodles! Art is definitely an area I’m less comfortable with, but I do like dabbling in it when the mood strikes.

There’s something therapeutic in designing a new look for your OC! You take the time to consider their individual style, the overall theme, and how you can marry the two to create a cute outfit~ I’m really happy with how Raven’s Fairy Gala Couture came out; it’s definitely one of my favorite looks for her. The Masquerade outfit was also fun for me to assemble, but it seems a lot less cohesive in hindsight (probably because I didn’t line + color it, so it’s harder to distinguish individual elements??).

The NRC dorm uniforms (+ the sequel with RSA and NBC uniforms) was another cool project! I think my favorites from those are the Heartslabyul look (just because I’m a sucker for the Alice in Wonderland aesthetic + Raven is twisted from the raven in its infamous riddle), the Diasomnia look (it gives “fairy tale princess turned knight” energy), and the Noble Bell look (because the extra fabric is nice and flowy). You can see how the environment and the personality of each school/dorm influences her, right? ^^ It’s also interesting to think about how differently Raven might have turned out if each of these places had more of an influence on her life.

Bruh 💀 I think she’d die if she worked at the Mostro Lounge, dealing with customers and shady coworkers and employer… though that’s not to say that any of the other dorms would necessarily be better! Miss Raven would have gripes with or rivals in each of them somehow. It’s the Night Raven College way, I guess??

One of these things is not like the other… Looking back on it, 3 out of 4 of those are basically predatory-prey dynamics there there’s a type developing and I don’t know if I like it/j 😂 I’d say Jade’s the “main” love interest, while Rook’s the “oh, he’s cute” one… L*ona kind of started as a crack ship but now I think it’s more of a one-sided thing?? Like, Miss Raven still sees L*ona as sort of a rival, whereas he’s grown a little fond of her but knows he can’t do much to sway her… It’s the eternally “second place” syndrome… 😔

Rollo has the most complex relationship with her (sure, call it a ship if you want 😂), built primarily on a strange savior complex. He did some heinous stuff and dislikes her because she’s very pro-magic—but I think there’s a part of him that feels like she’s a lost lamb that’s been led astray by Draconia and therefore he needs to “save” and “correct” her. Problem is, he’s bad at Emotions so his anger gets redirected at Miss Raven herself. Meanwhile, Miss Raven realizes the similarities between herself and Rollo, so she wants to be a friend to him. She sort of forces him to be her pen pal (thinking that writing down how he feels will help him cope with what happened). So weirdly enough, Raven wants to “save” Rollo and Rollo wants to “save” Raven (but both suck at communicating well).

Who knows, we’ll see how things play out from here Nd when the whim to draw strikes next 📝

[sea-owl]

Just imagine Portia in the isekai AU doing her best to make sure her children and her friends children don’t go down the Yandere route. What she doesn’t realize is that the Beidgertons themselves are Yanderes. This wasn’t anything new, the author actually alludes to the Bridgertons Yandere tendencies in how they treat the villains in the original work. But with how sweet they were with their destined partners she never thought anything of it. She didn’t read the extra epilogues that were released where the Bridgertons seemed lament about the lack of passion in their marriages, passion they only found when going toe to toe with their rivals. So while Portia worries about if one of her little lambs had strayed when someone who insulted her daughter the previous ends up crippled, she doesn’t notice the wolves in sheep’s clothing getting closer.

Yessss! I love y'all.

Portia is so worried about making sure she and her little villains don't end up dying or going down the wrong path that she has yet to realize

Anthony had drowned Dorset after he flirted with Kate.

Benedict cut out the tongue of a noble who dared to whisper about Sophie's status as illegitimate despite the fact she was now Portia's ward.

Colin burnt Cressida's face, leaving her with large and deep scars after insulting Penelope.

Daphne ruined a debutant who showed interest in Simon by knocking her out with a well placed punch and stripping her bare next to a passed out drunk gentleman.

Eloise shot a man in a "hunting accident" after he ruined one of Phillip's plants.

Francesca followed an older girl to Bath to torment her when Francesca learned the girl was an old lover of Michael's.

Gregory and Hyacinth tag team when stalking Lucy and Gareth.

Violet is the reason Portia is now a widow.

It's not new behavior either, back in Portia's previous life there were hints of the Bridgertons being yanderes in the books with their behavior towards their villains, but most glossed over it because they were so sweet with the love interests. Portia also died before the author years after the series was complete, did some reflection, and released second epioluges, basically saying the Bridgertons missed their villains because no one else brought passion like they did. Or, as Portia's college roommate from her old life would say, they matched energy.

Portia's distraction may be used to the advantage of others.

The children, though, are starting to notice patterns, and it's fair to say they are worried. They have a theory to test, and if proven true, they may have to make a deal with the devil.

[inciting-chaos-series]

The Night Shift: Chapter Three

If you'd like to be tagged when new chapters are posted let me know! -Ghostiewvlf

✦✦Update: Edited slightly :) -Ghostiewvlf

✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦

➢ Tag List: @valleys

➢Author: Ghostiewvlf & JTheGhost ➢ Rating: Mature ➢ Pairings: Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n ➢ Themes: Slow Burn | Coworkers To Lovers | Angst | Holiday | Mutual Pining | Fluff | Smut? | Hurt/Comfort | Soulmates | Fake Relationships | Miscommunication | Forced Proximity | Found Family | ➢ Warnings: Crude Humor | Suicidal Jokes/Ideation | Drinking | Smoking |

➢Summary:

You work the night shift at a local dog kennel for boarding and daycare. You love the peace and quiet of the shift, but just when you get comfortable- a few break-ins happen around town, and upper management decides to place your quiet, brooding, shift lead on the schedule with you.

☽✧ Chapter Three: Musically In Tune ✧☾

-Y/N POV-

Your second class wasn't supposed to start for another fifteen minutes, but you really didn't have the energy to get out of bed. You hated that you only had one day off work, sure your job was alright, but using your other day off as the day to schedule all your classes was really not the move, because now you didn't want to attend the lectures. The text that popped up on your phone didn't help focusing much either. Why was he texting you? Did he want you to come in on your day off?

Logan 🐺:

Hows school nerd?

“Weird” You said aloud, laughing to yourself as the small adrenaline rush of having to come in dissipated.

You:

Not exactly better than work, but not worse 

Logan 🐺:

I can always call you in for an ‘emergency’ haha

You:

No thanks! Lol

Next thing you knew your phone was flooding with sad cat memes about school. Your face quickly started to ache from laughing so much. 

Logan 🐺:

Don’t tell the boss im memeing on company time

You:

You are my boss stupid 

Logan 🐺:

Oh, yeah… guess I am ;) 

It was so bizarre seeing this side of him. In just a week he had gone from this “quiet shift lead that no one really wants to talk to” to “coworker that you look forward to working with everyday” to now, acquaintances? Friends? You didn't really know. It was hard for you to draw lines between stages of friendship at work. Maybe he was just being nice to make you feel more comfortable around him? 

Logan 🐺:

So… what class are you in right now?

You:

Just about to start music theory 

Logan 🐺:

RIP haha

Need any help studying? I’m pretty good with music 

You:

I might take you up on that actually lol 

I never have time for this class so now im nearly failing

Logan 🐺:

Bring your stuff next shift and we’ll work on it :)

You:

Thank youuuu :’)

You turned the screen off on your phone and tried your best to pay attention during your lecture, but you couldn't shake the nervous energy you had built up thinking about the next shift working with him. 

It didn't take long for the next workday to arrive. You had barely slept at all, staying up studying and trying to catch up in your other courses was beginning to take a toll on you. You arrived barely on time for your shift, quickly getting the usual updates from departing day staff before clocking in. You headed into the break room and set your things down before collapsing into the seat and catching your breath. You’d just barely remembered to grab your music theory notes and homework, collecting them in a rush and making you run just enough behind that you’d be late if you picked up food for the shift. At least you would be able to get some help from Logan tonight though and hopefully your next exam would go over better than the last. 

The day shift quickly finished up and clocked out. Logan seemed to be running a bit late, so once everyone else had clocked out and left you began the duties of the night. You were on your second rotation of letting dogs out when you heard his car pull up, so you didn't turn to look when you heard the backdoor open and a few more dogs run out. You continued playing with one of the more shy dogs that was boarding for the night and watched to make sure everyone was getting along.

“Hey there.” You felt a warm hand on your back, a sharp contrast with the bite in the cold fall air. You tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach acting up. 

“Oh hey!” a slightly-too-loud laugh falling from your lips. 

“I stopped at Starbucks and got us some coffee.” An uneven smile painted his face, making him look almost comical with his cold bitten nose and pale skin, along with those signature dark circles under his eyes. 

“Oh wow, thank you! I was running late and wasn't able to stop for anything today.” You smiled and accepted the warm cup and took an eager sip, grateful to have some caffeine for the night. 

“Oh huh, perfect timing I guess? You're welcome.” He chuckled and offered a smile just as warm as the cup in your hands. “I can order some food or snacks later too.” He took a sip of his own cup and huffed, his breath forming a small cloud in front of him due to the freezing temperature. As much as you despised the cold and how it made your already poor circulation in your hands feel like pins and needles, you did really love the aesthetics of it: the clouds of breath, the way it made faces redden, the smell that was draped across everything the night before a big thunderstorm or heavy snowfall, the oversized hoodies and layered outfits that everyone seemed buried in, big boots with chunky socks- it was all very comforting in a way, it seemed to round out the edges in a very sharp world.

The night went by much the same as it began. There was a very comforting feeling about the weather and the mood that you were both in, even the dogs seemed very subdued. Time seemed to go by a bit slower, which you happily welcomed after weeks of vigorous study. 

Though time seemed to be lulling along peacefully, you got your nightly duties done in record time. You blamed the unusually well behaved dogs. It wasn't long before you were both sitting at the front desk again, joking around and playing some light music. He hesitantly showed you a few of his favorite bands. You assumed his apprehension was from fear of judgment. Lucky for him, you both enjoyed darker, more melancholy music. 

You both listened to his Spotify playlist while he helped you on your coursework. You bopped along to several songs you recognized as he read through your work. BONES, Xavier Wulf, and several other artists played softly through the speakers. 

“Mm, yeah not this one…” You sheepishly laughed as you clicked skip on Cholesterol, not needing to feel too melancholic tonight. He merely chuckled and nodded with firm agreement. You were surprised by his knowledge about music, he helped you get through the entirety of your homework, as well as explained a bunch of the questions you’d missed on the last exam you brought with you. 

“How do you know all this? I feel like you know more than my professor honestly…” You laughed as you finished up the last question and shut your notebook. He’d managed to explain everything all in a way that was actually making sense to you. He’d even related back to songs that played out softly on the speakers and used them as examples to the concepts. 

“I sincerely fucking doubt that…” He chuckled tiredly. “I just- know music I guess… I spend a lot of time with and around it, I uh-  I’ve even made a couple songs myself…” You smiled as you caught the red tint on his heated cheeks.

“Wait really?” You gave him a surprised look. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if they're any good, but I like making them.” He shrugged and passed you the keyboard  and mouse to play music. 

“Can I hear one?” You pried, making him slump into his chair further and groan softly.  

“Ahh I don’t know, y/n…” He huffed and rolled his eyes playfully. “I haven't really shown anyone, but I guess if you promise to not make fun of me…” he turned slightly and narrowed his eyes at you, “...or tell anyone here-  maybe I’ll bring my computer next time or something…” 

“Hmm, we’ll see…” You squinted back, jokingly challenging him before laughing.

“I’ll write you up I swear to god y/n…” He joked back, laughing along with you. 

“OoOkay boss man…”

➢ Links:

✦ Fics Masterlist ✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦ ✦ AO3 ✦ Wattpad ✦ Art ✦ ✦ Requests Masterpost & Guidelines ✦ Request Trope List ✦ 。:゜:.*∵✧∵ ☽ Submit A Request ☾∵✧∵*:.゜: 。

[becomingbts]

NUMB - 01

Summary: It was hard to live on as if nothing happened. As if she didn’t lose her hands and one of her best friends in that accident. It didn’t help that her hands were everything she had and everything she was. Without them, she wasn’t sure she had any reason to breathe anymore.

Pairing: Y/N (fem) x Yoongi

Genre: Heavy angst and fluff

Warnings: deal with depression, suicidal thoughts, and difficult relationships.

~ 600 words

Note: Hello everyone, merry Christmas! I hope everyone has been doing well, as promised, here is the first drabble from the NUMB series. The story will be updated twice a week, so next update should be either on Thursday or Friday, I’m still thinking about what to do hehe. I think I’ll probably update every Tuesday and Thursday, I’ll see about that. The tag list is opened, don’t hesitate to ask to be added! Feedback is warmly welcomed, as always. Please take well care, much love, Dolly.

Her head was resting against her desk, her cheek pressed against the glass, eyes emptily looking at her favorite perfume bottle. It had been a while since she had seen it, she realized. Half empty, as if she had barely used it despite getting it more than ten years ago. Shouldn’t it be emptier by now? She had to admit that perfume had always been a delicate topic with her; she often felt dizzy if the smell was too much. It was even worse on herself than on other people. Regardless, she couldn’t remember the last time she used the bottle. (Y/N) didn’t have the energy to think, she merely breathed in and out, steadily. She couldn’t get herself to look at something else. She just stared at the pink bottle, wondering what it would feel like to spray it on herself again.

However, she did not move. She remained there, blinking slowly, while she heard footsteps behind her. She didn’t move as she listened to her boyfriend’s soothing voice announcing his presence. She heard him remove his coat and his shoes, slowly undressing in the corridor until he entered the small room she was in. He never made a lot of noise, worried about waking her up from a nap. She could have smiled at the thought had her mood been a bit brighter. A few minutes passed before she felt his presence behind her, yet she did not acknowledge him. She felt too tired to move.

“Do you want me to spray some on you?” He barely whispered, maybe this way, it would feel like a secret, like a precious moment shared between them, but she didn’t really care for those things anymore. He was trying to still create memories with her, she knew that. He was always trying his best to make sweet moments out of their dull daily life. But how could he still want to when she was… Like she was now?

“I shouldn’t waste it. Don’t bother.” Her voice cracked, she had not talked for the whole day, even when the in-home nurse came to visit and made sure she was doing okay. It felt weird to suddenly reply when she usually didn’t care to. Yet, she didn’t want to leave him unanswered. Even if she couldn’t understand why he still bothered with her, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t recognize his efforts.

“It’s literally there to be used, love. It wouldn’t be a waste.” She almost sighed, he didn’t understand, did he?

“I have no reason to wear perfume.”

“Do you need one? Can’t one just want to wear perfume and stay home the whole day? I don’t think that it necessarily has to be special. We can always buy a new bottle when this one is done, if needed.” She sighed softly. He was always trying, wasn’t he? He was always so gentle, patient and understanding. But he didn’t actually get it. He never did.

“Yoongi…” She sounded exasperated, tired, almost hurt.

“All right, no perfume. I get it.” His voice held a smile that she couldn’t understand. How could he still smile when she kept on telling him to stop whatever he was trying to cheer her up? “(Y/N)?” She did not acknowledge him once again, yet for some reason, he seemed to sense that she was listening.

“I love you.” She wanted to say it back. She really did. But she couldn’t. She gulped nervously, eyes brimming with tears, but Yoongi didn’t take her silence personally. He didn’t need to hear it. He knew. Yoongi knew that despite her silence, she didn’t love him any less.

It was her own self that she had stopped loving after her accident.

UPDATED EVERY TUESDAY AND THURSDAY

TAGLIST: @fluffyydumplings, @harmonie-writes, @might-be-a-rat, @wobblewobble822​, @cuteipat (tell me if I forgot anyone!)

[umbracirrus]

WIP not on a Wednesday 💛

I've finally today been able to write for the first time in little over a week and a half... and I've honestly got a thing in my mind about Galmar at the moment. Don't even know why - but it stoked a fic idea in my head and - shock horror - a new dragonborn oc emerges from the abyss of my mind. Or rather I adapted a character, and some bullet point notes I had made, from a different idea I had months ago because I found this fit better. Her name is Aevra and I love her just like I do all the others.

But even though it was thoughts of Galmar which inspired me starting to write this, he isn't even in this WIP!! Hah....

Tagged by @thequeenofthewinter

-------

"Still, surely it is something worth celebrating! You can’t just save the world then hide yourself away, my Thane!" Lydia protested as the two of them descended the Seven-thousand Steps, much to Aevra’s disdain. She had just done what was needed to be done, with the only other option being death – in her eyes, that wasn’t worth celebrating. "Look, you went to Sovngarde and returned. You fought the World Eater! You can quite literally summon dragons for your every whim – surely that is worth at least a drink and celebration once we return to Whiterun?"

Lowering her head and folding her arms over, Aevra sighed. Clearly, she wouldn’t be getting out of this without Lydia getting her way to some extent. "Fine. One drink at the Bannered Mare, and we will buy the largest sweetroll to share in ‘celebration’ – but that is as far as I'm going in terms of- Huh?" She stopped in her tracks when the two of them reached the lowest wayshrine and Ivarstead came into her line of sight. "What is going on down there? There are an awful lot of people, even for Ivarstead... Lydia, this isn’t your doing, is it? Trying to rope me into a party?"

"This... isn’t what I’ve been planning. I was with the Jarl in Whiterun until that, ah... Odahviing, is it? Until Odahviing returned to take me to meet you at the Throat of the World," Lydia explained, her hand coming to rest on her sword. "But I don’t like the looks of it one bit. We should proceed with caution..."

Now that was something that she could agree with.

The pair slowly made their way down towards the town, where things began to become clearer. Much clearer.

Aevra was the first to realise what exactly was going on upon the sight of Imperial armour as they approached the bridge leading into the town. It took Lydia a few moments after her realisation to notice that she was no longer moving, and was instead rooted to the spot just before the bridge.

"Are you okay...?"

This was no celebration, and they were there for her.

---

The two of them were surrounded. Lydia had her weapons drawn, but Aevra did not.

"I will not allow you to arrest my Thane-!"

"You do realise that this town is Imperial land, and that your Thane is a wanted criminal?" Hearing those words from Rikke did make her wince and clench her fists, but she knew that at this point, there was no escaping it... "She killed over a dozen of her fellow soldiers, attempted to kill the General, and deserted – Dragonborn or not, she cannot escape punishment for her deeds, I'm afraid. Now, she can either come along quietly and prevent further bloodshed, or we shall apprehend her through force."

At this point, Lydia had already drawn her sword, and was ready to fight. Whereas Aevra... simply had no fight left. She was exhausted from battling Alduin in Sovngarde, then descending from High Hrothgar. She also didn’t have the energy that she used to all those years ago. As much as she wanted to fight to escape, she had no doubts that she would be quickly apprehended.

Besides... she had fulfilled her ‘destiny’. She had no more purpose; the world no longer needed a Dragonborn – not if Paarthurnax was going to be teaching the remaining dragons the Way of the Voice.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her dear friend and housecarl, and rested her hand on her wrist to make her lower her weapon. "Stand down, Lydia. I... I think that I've made my peace," she muttered, walking past her and stopping when she was stood before Rikke. "Go back to Whiterun... and have that drink and sweetroll for us, okay? Take care of Breezehome, and take care of yourself."

"But-!"

"Lydia, you’re dismissed from your duties as my housecarl. Go home."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Dragonborn," Rikke stated, before glancing at Lydia. "Listen to her. You will be arrested for interfering with Imperial business if you remain."

Much to Aevra’s relief, Lydia cooperated, and sheathed her weapon before backing away. Even more relieving – though she wasn’t too certain whether it should have been a relief or not, given the circumstances – was that the Imperials had waited for Lydia to leave Ivarstead before she was officially apprehended.

After her arms were taken hold of, and her hands bound, she stared at the legate with as straight a face as she could. "I almost hoped that we would never cross paths again, Rikke. It hurts my heart that things have come to this..." Her head turned towards the mountain behind her, in part to conceal the wavering emotion across her face. "I presume that this has been in planning ever since the treaty was arranged? Since the General realised who I was?"

"I'm afraid so. Though I will be the first to admit that it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth having to do this to you..." Rikke made a noise, indicating that she was thinking very carefully about her next words. "To the Dragonborn... in the hours after Alduin’s defeat. But the law is the law, and you broke it."

She remained quiet after that… not that she was given the chance to speak.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Erec Smith

Published: Apr 19, 2024

I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood in southern New Jersey. My neighborhood was so white I could have been used as a landmark when giving directions.

Sadly, as one of the few Black kids in the neighborhood and one of the even fewer who spent any time with white peers, I was a daily target of racist bullying. In fact, one could say it was a pastime of sorts. In some neighborhoods, kids got together to play tag or a pickup football game; in my neighborhood, picking on me was the organized game. Who I saw as a friend or an enemy changed all the time. Someone being nice to me on Tuesday would be leading a racist horde on Wednesday, only to be friendly again on Thursday. (It’s amazing I don’t have trust issues.)

Some of the adults weren’t much better. I remember one of my teachers standing with another teacher as I and other students walked into class. Out of nowhere, my teacher told me to “walk like Richard Pryor.” When I told her I did not want to, she raised her voice: “Do it.” Both teachers laughed as I did my best impression, not completely sure which Richard Pryor act I was expected to emulate. (At the very least, they could have narrowed it down to a scene or two.)

My only reprieve came when I did something considered “Black”: like praise a rap song, dance, or do well in a basketball game. All my other attributes were ignored.

So I was excited about graduating from the eighth grade and going to a regional high school with a large Black population. I could finally leave my misfit status behind and enter a diverse environment where I would feel included. It’s not that my white peers had succeeded in making me feel inferior, but not having to deal with their attempts would be a breath of fresh air. The energy I spent upholding mental and emotional armor against their attacks could be spent on more fulfilling things.

However, these hopes were quickly dashed. The Black peers I encountered the most did not accept me either. To them, having grown up in a predominantly white neighborhood had made me white — too white for their tastes. Politeness on my part was considered weakness. My general disposition was not “real” enough in their minds. In this school, too, I was usually left alone if I was behaving in ways coded Black, but there was more to me than that.

The most disheartening aspect was that both my previous white tormentors and my new Black ones were implying the same thing: You’re not fulfilling our ideas of what a Black person is, and for that you must pay.

I do not tell this story to garner pity. (I’m not big on the whole “victim” thing.) I do not tell it to guilt my childhood antagonists. (There’s no benefit in doing that.) I do not tell it to gain some kind of catharsis. (At this point, I’m over it.) I tell it because I am now a mid-career college professor, and these types of bullies have not gone away. They are now academics and administrators at prestigious universities; they are now running HR departments; they are chief editors of prestigious journals. They are prizewinners for their work in diversity, equity, and inclusion.

The problem with most DEI

Once, I committed the sin of saying that knowledge of standard written English may be valuable to all students, regardless of skin color. For this, I endured vitriol. Because standard English came from England and was used by imperialists and slaveholders, I was told, it was inherently racist to teach it to nonwhites. On a now-defunct academic listserv, I was accused of white supremacy, of being unconcerned with how such thoughts, coming from my Black body, were doing harm to other Black people.

These academics would deride me to each other while ignoring my explanations and clarifications. Many who did not participate in these online degradation ceremonies cheered on those who did. For wanting to teach standard English, and for wanting to have a real conversation about its efficacy in American life, I was deemed a pariah.

It was remarkably reminiscent of the bullying I experienced while growing up.

To be clear, I was not being denigrated for simply having a particular outlook; my transgression was having that outlook while Black.

This story illustrates a distinct kind of racism that goes unacknowledged in its particularity. I am describing a kind of racism that more easily masquerades as magnanimity, empathy, and righteousness. I am describing a kind of racism that, often, is unwittingly embraced by its very targets. I am describing “prescriptive racism.”

Unlike traditional racism — the belief that particular races are, in some way, inherently inferior to others — prescriptive racism dictates how a person should behave. That is, an identity type is prescribed to a group of people, and any individual who skirts that prescription is deemed inauthentic or even defective. President Biden displayed prescriptive racism when he said “If you have a problem figuring out whether you’re for me or Trump, you ain’t Black,” a statement that implicitly prescribes how Black voters should think.

“Prescriptive racism” is probably a new term for most readers, but it’s not exactly a novel concept. It has a historical analogue: the concept of the “uppity Negro,” a Black person who dared to act like an equal to whites. One of this term’s most famous usages is attributed to Lyndon B. Johnson, who apparently said: “These Negroes, they’re getting pretty uppity these days and that’s a problem for us since they’ve got something now they never had before, the political pull to back up their uppityness.” Clearly, “uppity” was meant to describe people of color who exercised “agentic” power — that is, they were competent and did not need a white person’s heroism. These “uppity” Black people were forgetting their scripted lines, as it were.

However, prescriptive racism casts a broader net, disadvantaging people for not abiding by a long list of things a Black person shouldn’t do. A prescriptive racist may not mind that a Black person has a master’s degree, but he may scoff at the sight of a Black man watching the Masters — especially if Tiger isn’t playing. A white prescriptive racist would look at a Black person speaking standard English the way a Black person would look at a white person wearing a dashiki. Lest you think that last statement is mere speculation, I have met several people who have voiced derision and irritation upon hearing standard English come out of my mouth. My use of language was an affront to their expectations and sensibilities.

Many prescriptive racists are often people of the same minority group. A Black person lambasting another Black person for acting in ways deemed racially inauthentic — for example, speaking in dialects coded “white” — is engaging in prescriptive racism.

And prescriptive racism is not just a social phenomenon; it is now being institutionalized. More and more, it is erroneously labeled diversity, equity, and inclusion, and it is winning out over initiatives more in line with the civil rights movement and classical liberal values like individuality, free speech, reason, and even equality. It is becoming policy in academia, corporate America, and even the military. To put it another way, contemporary DEI is prescriptive racism.

In academia, I’ve found, Blackness is a role, a “pre-script,” to which Black people are expected to conform if they want to be accepted or, sometimes, acknowledged at all. A Black scholar cannot simply study and write about Plato; she has to write about Plato from a Black perspective. Nobody shows much interest in a Black graduate student drafting a dissertation on American Transcendentalism that isn’t focused on its relevance to the Black experience. In this sense, applying for graduate school or a professorship is akin to auditioning for “Black person” in some live-action role-playing event.

The term “politically Black” adds yet another layer to prescriptive racism. Often, Black scholars doing “Black scholarship” must do it in a politically Black way: a way that conforms to a particular political and decidedly countercultural position. This is what the journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones meant when she said, in a now-deleted tweet, “There is a difference between being politically Black and being racially Black. . . . We all know this and should stop pretending that we don’t.” For many involved in social justice — be they academics, politicians, or activists — progressive ideology is the only authentic form of political Blackness.

Political Blackness made much more sense several decades ago. Both Malcolm X and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. could have been construed as politically Black. Why? Because, when these men lived, whether Black Americans were gay or straight, Islamic or Christian, working class or middle class, none of them could sit at the front of the bus in the Jim Crow South. However, in this third decade of the 21st century, the efficacy of political Blackness has waned significantly. Though things are not perfect and racist environments still exist, policy changes have afforded Black Americans opportunities and resources traditionally denied them. As a result, “the Black experience” has become so varied that the use of “the” is questionable.

The idea of an indefinite abject oppression that justifies essentialism and political Blackness does not reflect reality. The facts that roughly 80 percent of Black Americans are working class or higher and that the number of Black immigrants has skyrocketed (strongly suggesting that the United States isn’t a fundamentally anti-Black country) are just two of many things that illustrate this. But activists who still want power must fabricate an insidious specter of oppression, and an essential victimhood has to be prescribed, whether they are homeless or Oprah Winfrey. If you are a Black American who does not abide by this prescription, be you liberal or conservative, you are seen as weakening the political power of Black Americans.

The inherent paradox of contemporary social justice is the essentialism that says “you are bad if you stereotype other people, but you are also bad if you don’t.”

The concept of microaggressions illustrates this. In a definition made popular by clinical psychologists mainly from Columbia University, microaggressions are subtle insults, intentional or unintentional, “that send denigrating messages to people of color because they belong to a racial minority group.” Yet it is prescriptive racism to suggest that Black people, regardless of context, interpret every term or experience the same way.

For example, according an article in Harvard Business Review, “I believe the most qualified person should get the job” counts as a microaggression because, apparently, it means to racial and ethnic minorities “that someone is being given an unfair advantage because of their race.” But that idea itself is a stereotype that essentializes minorities as people who, as a whole, would be offended by that particular statement. The idea that a Black person could agree with that statement is unthinkable. If one were to point out this contradiction to a person who believes such a statement is an insult to minorities, one shouldn’t be surprised if the person — whether white or nonwhite — commits an act of prescriptive racism: “Well, they should be offended.”

When people refer to “the Black experience,” they are, in effect, telling you who I am, what I’ve been through, and how I interpret the world. But they have no right to do that.

What to do about prescriptive racism

None of this is to say racism does not exist. I know we do not live in a utopia of racial harmony. However, too many initiatives to improve race relations have done more harm than good, and they are winning out.

Instead, I think we can achieve true diversity without erasing individuality.

To accomplish this, I and a few others have cofounded Free Black Thought, a nonprofit newsletter and podcast representing “the rich diversity of Black thought beyond the narrow spectrum of views promoted by mainstream outlets as defining ‘the Black perspective.’” We come from a classical liberal standpoint, meaning we believe people should be treated as sovereign individuals and not deindividuated members of a group. In other words, we’re sticking it to the prescriptive racists.

The “free” in Free Black Thought is both an adjective and a verb. We want to promote thought free from the tyranny of prescription, which means we publish and promote a wide array of ideological points and artistic expression, highlighting Black artists and thinkers typically neglected in mainstream media. But we also seek “to free” Black thought by offering alternatives to K-12 curricula informed by critical social justice, like BLM in Schools and Woke Kindergarten, to let schools know that other ways to promote true DEI do exist.

Sadly, prescriptive racism is being lobbed at students throughout primary and secondary education, from mathto ethnic studies. This is why Free Black Thought has partnered with the Institute for Liberal Values to create curricula and resources that promote “empowered education” over dogmatic “prescriptive” DEI agendas and are accessible to teachers and parents. We promote such classical liberal values as equality, free speech, and, of course, individual liberty, which are the keys to social justice when universally applied.

At the end of the day, the founders of Free Black Thought are exercising our freedom of association to combat an almost tyrannical conformity imposed from an annoyingly indignant moral high ground.

For me, DEI done right is DEI based on traditional liberal values. These values make for social justice if we can live up to them fairly and universally.

To come full circle, experiencing racism in my childhood may have been arduous, and perhaps I was victimized. But that didn’t make me a victim. It opened my eyes to the nonsense of race and identity, and it forced me to embrace my individuality. For that, I am grateful. Prescriptive racism and other forms of prescriptive essentialism rob people, especially young people, of their ability to make their own paths and cultivate their own individuality. After all, we want our youth to think, not to have a group ideology think for them. They all, regardless of race, should be emboldened to let their thoughts be free.

Erec Smith is a research fellow at the Cato Institute, an associate professor of rhetoric and composition at York College of Pennsylvania, and cofounder of Free Black Thought.

[ Via: https://archive.today/q0jmb ]

[snakebites-and-ink]

I wish I could say that I do a great job of tagging things so people can perfectly filter out what they don’t want to see…but the truth is, I don’t. So here’s the rudimentary system I have in place until I can get organized/motivated and come up with a better one:

My own writing will have the necessary content warnings written at the top of each chapter. So you can see what the content warnings are without having to scroll down, and the content warning list will remain on the post in all future reblogs.

My own writing will (hopefully) have the relevant tags in the initial posting of it. So when I first post something, I’ll try to make sure it has all the tags I think are necessary. However, I may self-reblog the post without carrying the tags over to the reblog. I don’t know whether blocking tags that showed up earlier in the reblog chain hides the reblogs after it or not*, so if it doesn’t the content warnings at the top will be your only warning on the whole post and you may have to read through them to make sure there’s nothing you would normally depend on tags to filter out. *if someone could enlighten me that would be appreciated.

I will generally assume writers I reblog from are responsible for putting their own content warnings. If, unlike me, they did not put content warnings at the top of their post, reblogs of other people’s writing may not have all content properly warned for. Most of these can be filtered out by blocking the tag “#other people’s writing” on my blog. A similar principle goes for visual art, but that will probably usually be tagged "#whump art" (assuming it's whumpy.)

Some kinds of posts may not have warnings. Like prompts, conversations, and memes. So read those at your own risk I guess.

Sometimes, I reblog stuff but lack either the time, the energy, or both to tag it properly, and I just want to stick it on my blog without having to worry about how I should tag it. In order to prevent this from leading to absolute unorganized chaos, otherwise untagged reblogs will often be tagged with “#my tag for things without a tag”. **UPDATE: I am now using "#my tag for things i haven't really tagged yet" instead because it sounds less brusque? I think??** If you want to avoid seeing things that aren’t tagged with proper warnings and stuff, or just want to avoid getting spammed by my random reblogs, you can block those tags.

If there's something you think I should warn for that I am not warning for, please feel free to tell me. I'm relatively new at this so I wouldn't be super surprised if I neglected something without realizing.

Ultimately this is my blog and I'm not going to bend over backwards to be flawless in the way I tag things. You are responsible for curating your own internet experience and I do not make guarantees.