#Sans second best character ever

[illdothehotvoice]

I hope you all know that the King Papyrus ending literally lives rent free in my head I think about it a lot-

[stayteezdreams]

Mine

Plot: When you decide to show your friend San the costume you aren't so sure about, you get a lot more than you were expecting.

Prompt: "Stop staring at me like that." "If you didn't want me to stare, you shouldn't have worn that."

Pairing: Best Friend!Choi San x Gn!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Warnings: A bit suggestive throughout. I tried my best not to be too descriptive about body type or gender but it might not be perfectly gender neutral, I apologize. Slight mentions of self-esteem issues, or body-image issues, reference to low confidence.

A/N: Don't go into this expecting too much lol, you have been warned.

Words: ~1.8k

Most years when it came to Halloween, you played it relatively safe. Choosing a famous character that matched your vibe. But you got bored of it, plus you were running out of characters you could pass for.

After some convincing, one of your friends persuaded you to dress up as a character from a show you both watched. They were also going to be a character from said show, so you wouldn't be alone.

The only problem was the costume of said characters was somewhat....revealing. Parts of the costume were cut to expose random areas of your body, and though none were too risqué, the costume itself hugged your figure in a way that left nothing to imagination.

You were uncertain if it suited you, or if you would be comfortable overall. The friend who suggested was no help in making you feel better, as they had already gotten excited about you being said character.

You had tried the costume on a few times, and every time you remained uncertain if it suited you. Was it the color? The overall vibe? Did it just not suit your body type?

When the topic of costumes came up with another one of your best-friends, San, you mentioned to him you weren't feeling too confident about the costume your friend gave you.

"I mean, I like it, but...it's not like anything I've worn before. I don't know if it suits me really."

Glancing at San who nodded along, understanding, but not fully knowing your predicament. He smiled softly, "Can I see it on you? Maybe I can help you decide?"

You perked up a bit at this, though you were a bit bashful about it too. "Would that be okay?"

He nodded with a bright smile before you hummed.

"Okay!" You rose before looking back at him, "It'll take a bit for me to put it on."

He chuckled and nodded, "No rush."

It seemed like a good idea at first, San was always helpful and always honest with you. But as you put the costume on you remembered just how it looked on you and you began to regret asking him to look at it.

San had never seen you in anything really revealing or figure hugging, not that he would care, he was one of your closest friends. But he was also the guy you had a crush on for ages. And even if he didn't care what you looked like in the costume, you began feeling timid.

Would he think you looked bad? You felt your chest clench a bit at this thought. That would definitely not help your confidence. You weren't sure if you wanted this now.

"Is everything okay?" You heard San's voice come from outside the door.

You let out a soft sigh. "Yeah! One second!"

You had finished putting the costume on but felt apprehensive about showing San. Taking a deep breath, deciding it would be too weird for you to suddenly change your mind, you walked out of the bathroom.

San was looking down at his phone and waiting for you patiently at the edge of your bed. Hearing you come out, his eyes shot up to see you, but what he saw was nothing like what he was expecting.

His heart seemed to stop all together as his breath caught in his throat. He was sure he looked stunned as he stared at you, unable to look away.

San always thought you looked great, no matter what you wore, but seeing you like this was more than he ever expected or could wish for.

The costume accentuated every part of you he often caught himself staring at. Various patches of your skin were exposed, and San felt his ears burning hot at the sight.

It took you a moment to gain the confidence to look at San's reaction. When you did you weren't expected to see him slack-jawed and stunned.

Was it a good thing? A bad thing? Was the costume too much?

When his eyes started raking over your body slowly, you felt a shiver run up your spine as you felt almost naked. You felt shy under his gaze, the look on his face something you had never seen.

You let out a nervous chuckle, "San, stop staring at me like that."

San's eyes finally rose to your face, and he saw the way his stare made you react. You were nervous and shy under his gaze.

'Cute.'

"If you didn't want me to stare, you shouldn't have worn that."

"Wh- but- I" You looked down at yourself. "You told me to try it on! To help me decide if I should wear it"

"Don't."

Your eyes shot back to him, only to see him staring at your body again. "What?"

"Don't wear it."

You looked back down at yourself, your chest tightening a bit. Was it really that bad? Or maybe he was feeling protective?

"Does it look that bad?"

Through San's struggle to keep his composure, the tone of your voice caught him off guard. Paying attention to your gaze as you turned and looked in the mirror, he realized his mistake. He was making you insecure.

He stood up, "That's not what I meant."

You looked back at him, "Then it just doesn't suit me?"

San let out a shaky breath as he desperately raked his eyes over you again before swallowing harshly. As you shuffled on your feet anxiously, he clenched his eyes shut.

"That's also not what I mean."

"Then why shouldn't I wear it?"

He opened his eyes again and took a step closer to you. Your hands absentmindedly rose to your chest out of nerves and he wondered if you were feeling as....tense as he was.

You noticed his almost darkened gaze as he stared at you again. You swallowed nervously as he stepped closer.

"It suits you....too well."

"Too well?"

He nodded and you noticed the way he swallowed before he licked his lips and spoke again. "You look great. Amazing even, and I... don't want others to see you like this."

Another step forward and he was mere inches from you. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him as his eyes cast down to your body again. Your breath caught in your throat. What exactly did he mean? What was he thinking?

"I-" slowly, he lifted his arm, as his hand hovered above the exposed skin of your shoulder. "I want to be the only one to see you like this. I want to keep it to myself."

His voice was low, almost raspy, a shiver coursed through you as you heard it. Slowly his eyes lifted and locked with yours. The look in his gaze was almost dangerous, and it took your breath away.

"Why?"

"I don't want anyone to try and steal you from me. I want you to be mine."

You swallowed nervously; San didn't fail to notice it. He took another step closer, until your chests were almost touching. His face was close to yours and you nervously met his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I want you to understand why I'm saying these things."

You almost jolted as you felt San's hand suddenly grab your waist, his hands touching your bare skin were the costume revealed it. His hands gripped your waist as he pulled you against him.

His eyes stared deeply into yours as he inched closer.

"San?" Your voice was a whisper, barely heard.

"I've always wanted to keep you all to myself, but I thought it was too selfish. But this. Letting other's see you looking like this, seeing parts of you only I should see. I can't stand it. So, let me be selfish this time. Please."

Your breath wavered as San inched closer, his lips almost grazing yours as his eyes held a desperation you couldn't miss.

"Please?" He repeated, his voice soft, barely heard.

Your mind was fuzzy as your stomach swirled, warmth encasing you. You were unable to speak, so you just nodded your head.

Before you could even process your action, San's lips were against yours. His arm wrapped around you in a desperate attempt to bring you closer. One hand now held the back of your head, the kiss was deep, passionate.

As his tongue met your lips, asking for entrance, you obliged, almost gasping at his actions as he pressed you up against the wall as the kiss became almost sloppy. His fingers intertwined with your hair as his body pressed against yours.

San, managing to get some form of grip on himself, pulled away, his breathing heavy as he rested his forehead against yours. Opening his eyes he looked at your breathless figure. Slowly you opened your own eyes, as your gazes locked.

Bringing his hand to your face he gently caressed your cheek. "I'm sorry. I just- lost control a bit." He gently caressed your lightly swollen lips with his thumb. "It's been so hard repressing my feelings for you. I've always wanted you so badly, and today, seeing you..." He let out a soft chuckle, "I just couldn't hold it in any longer."

You smiled softly, "How long exactly? Have you felt like this."

"A few years, at least."

Your heart was racing as your chest clenched. All this time, you felt the same way, both of you unknowingly repressing shared feelings. Hurting yourselves and each other by never making it known.

"Then I'm sorry too." You said softly and he frowned, "Because I've been hiding it for just as long."

San stared at you for a second before a smile slowly spread across his face as he let out a soft chuckle.

"I guess we have a lot to make up for."

You nodded softly with a smile and San peered down at your figure again. He hissed as he let out a staggered breath, biting his lip. Your ears burned as he stared, your heart racing.

Bringing his hand down, he gently trailed his hand down your stomach before he hooked his finger under the cloth where it exposed your side.

Meeting your eyes again he spoke with an almost hungry tone. "Are you going to wear this?"

You bit back a grin, "I suppose I can find something else."

He smiled and tilted his head as he leaned in closer to you again, his lips hovered over yours. "Good."

You wish you had taken a breath before he kissed you again. You could tell from the way his hands hungrily gripped you as he pushed you against the wall again, his lips never breaking contact, that this was going to last a while.

xx End xx

A/N: I have written some fluff, some humor and a little spooky. So I thought I would write something a bit suggestive to throw in as well lol. Hope you liked it!

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[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 10]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of the boys' one night stands outside of the house, Mingi is flirty

Usually, Hongjoong would have been cooped up in his office the entire morning. The others were used to seeing him skip breakfast. So it was weird when they saw him sitting in the second floor lounge, going over papers.

"What's wrong with your office?" Seonghwa asked. Even he was curious as to why the captain was out here.

"There's nothing wrong with my office. I'm just sitting out here for a change of environment." Hongjoong wasn't the best at lying, especially to his best friend.

"Whatever you say..." Seonghwa wasn't convinced but he was hungry and wanted breakfast.

"Can you ask them to send me another coffee when you're down there?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa nodded and headed downstairs.

"Morning, hyung." Those that were having their breakfast in the dining room greeted the oldest.

"Morning. Send Hongjoong another coffee. Second floor lounge." He acknowledged the others then gave Hongjoong's order to the maid. She bowed and ran to the kitchen to make Hongjoong's coffee.

"How was Mingi's race last night? I didn't hear anything from him." Seonghwa asked Yunho. Yunho merely shrugged.

"I have no idea, I haven't heard from him either. But considering how he isn't in his room, I'm guessing he stayed out the whole night, probably to celebrate a win. You know those girls like to glue themselves to him." Yunho chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. Seonghwa hummed and ate his breakfast.

"Mr Park, the physician is here. Shall I let him in?" The butler came in, informing Seonghwa with a bow.

"Yes, wake San and let him know then bring to doctor to his room directly." Seonghwa replied. The butler nodded and bowed before leaving the dining room.

"Was it that bad?" Jongho asked.

"The opponent last night clocked him bad. We just want to make sure there's nothing internal that's too serious." Yeosang informed.

"I've got to go, got a meeting with my contractor for the new casino. Have a nice day everyone." Wooyoung jumped up, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair and running out of the room.

"Wooyoung hyung's been so busy with the casino nearing completion." Jongho noted.

"From what I saw last time, it's coming together nicely though. San's still going through the investors that you put together for him. Everyone seems to want a stake, the two did a good job in securing the lot since it's in prime real estate." Seonghwa said.

"That's a good breakfast. Now it's time to go to work." Yunho stretched and stood up to take his leave.

"There's a car coming in. Open the gates." They all heard Hongjoong come down the stairs, announcing to the mansion staff. Turning their heads, they saw the captain jog past.

"What visitor does hyung have?" Yeosang asked. Seonghwa shrugged but did look at the door way curiously.

"(y/n)! You're here." Hongjoong greeted you at the door.

"Hongjoong, good morning." You bowed. Honestly, you were still trying to keep your shock and awe to a minimum upon seeing this place, it was huge.

"Your drive way is very long. Luckily I took a cab or else I would have had to walk." You chuckled.

"Ah, sorry about that. I should have told you. But anyway, I would have gone to pick you or send a car over." Hongjoong said.

"I'm just kidding. It's no worries at all." You removed your shoes. Hongjoong walked before you, leading you further into the house. The maids and butlers that crossed your paths bowed to you and Hongjoong. It was awkward for you so you just bowed back, compared to Hongjoong who just continued ahead.

"(y/n) sshi, you're our new gardener?" Yunho's eyebrows raised in surprise as he greeted you, as if this was the first time he knew that you were going to be the gardener.

"Temporarily. I overheard Hongjoong needing one so I offered my help." You explained.

"Ah, I see. I guess it's good to know our garden is in the safe hands of an expert." Yunho complimented.

"I'm not an expert but thank you for thinking so highly of me." You smiled kindly. Hongjoong cast a slightly suspicious look at you then at Yunho, then back to you.

"So, the garden is this way." Hongjoong intercepted. You hummed and followed him out the glass doors to the back garden.

"Wow... It looks even better in person." You gasped.

"All the work of the landscaper when we got here and all the other gardeners that have worked here. I'll be honest, none of us here are really good with plants. It's just nice to look at so we decided to keep it and maintain it." Hongjoong rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, I see. I'll take note of that." You chuckled.

"Also, if you need anything, any extra tools or equipment, go ahead and get them. We'll reimburse you, you shouldn't pay out of your own pocket." Hongjoong smiled a little.

"Thank you. I'll just survey the garden now." You bowed your head awkwardly and stepped up.

"Isn't that..." Jongho tilted his head.

"Mhmm." Yunho nodded as they all gathered there, keeping their distance but still observing you and Hongjoong in the back garden. Seonghwa remained indifferent.

"You did this... Didn't you?" Seonghwa looked up at the tallest. Yunho merely shrugged in response but his smile was enough of a reply.

"Is it okay for her to be here?" Yeosang asked. No one replied to that, Seonghwa was too busy analysing.

When you looked up from where you were observing the plants, you looked behind Hongjoong to see his 4 friends or brothers standing there, staring at the two of you. Suddenly, you became so self aware and self conscious. Hongjoong followed your line of sight and turned around to see the 4 there.

"I'm good on my own, Hongjoong. If you're needed somewhere else..." You cleared your throat. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, realising he was just standing there with nothing much to add anyway.

"If you need anything, just let me know. Or let any of the staff know." He said. You hummed and watched as he headed back in.

"What are you guys doing?" Hongjoong asked.

"I should be asking you that. Since when were you close enough to her to ask her to be our gardener?" Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow. Hongjoong shrugged.

"We're not close. She overheard that we needed a new gardener and volunteered to help temporarily." Hongjoong explained.

"Oh, she overheard coincidentally?" Seonghwa shot Yunho a look, who looked away innocently.

"What?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.

"Nothing. Just... be smart about this. Inform the others about her being here. I don't want to imagine what will happen to her if she sees us drag a corpse out there or something." Seonghwa said. Everyone nodded and Seonghwa went up to his office.

"Is this why you were working outside today, hyung? Waiting for her arrival?" Jongho nudged the captain. Hongjoong shot Jongho a dirty look and pushed his arm away.

"Of course not. I just needed more breathing space. My office was getting too stuffy." Hongjoong said.

"Sure..."

"Don't you all have work to do?" Hongjoong barked.

"Alright, alright. Geez, hyung. No need to shout." Yunho winced and covered his ears. They didn't realise that you were looking at them the entire time.

"They're an odd bunch." You noted to yourself as you inspected the plants in the plots.

"So are you going to be working outside the whole day, hyung?" Yeosang asked. Hongjoong glared at them and they all scurried away.

"Listen, if she needs anything, get it for her. Drinks, snacks, whatever, you understand?" Hongjoong turned to the butler. The butler nodded and bowed respectfully as Hongjoong went back upstairs. He gathered the files and papers that he had left in the lounge and returned back to his office.

With his coffee in his hand, he pulled back the curtains behind his chair, letting in all the light from the big window. And Hongjoong's eyes immediately found you.

"She's something else." He says to himself as he sees you used your fingers to dig through the soil.

All the other girls he has come across never liked getting their hands dirty but you so enthusiastically touched the dirt with bare hands.

"These two should not be planted next to each other." You noted, looking at the herb garden that was there. You assumed that it was for those that cooked on the estate.

"No wonder you're dying." You pouted a little, talking to the plant as you touched the wilting leaf.

"Miss, please help yourself to some refreshments and snacks. If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to let us know." A butler came out with a tray of items and a small, foldable table tucked under his arm.

"Thank you! Let me help you." You rushed over to help him unfold the lawn table he had with him. He seemed surprised that you had dropped what you were doing and came over to help him.

"Oh, miss. Don't worry, I can handle it." He bowed repeatedly but you took the tray from him politely.

"It's okay." You giggled and put the tray down on the table.

"Thank you so much, miss." He bowed deeply and poured the drink from the job into the glass for you. You smiled and received the glass, taking a sip.

"Ah, wait. There is something. Do you know if anyone uses the herb garden out here?" You asked him before he left.

"I'm not sure. Let me check with the kitchen." He said and went back into the house.

"So there is a kitchen crew here." You mumbled to yourself. You sipped the cold, fruit tea that was prepared. It was very delicious and refreshing while standing out in the sun.

"Miss, I have asked and the chef said that he used to take from the herb garden but lately, the herbs have not been in very good condition and they are not as fragrant as before so he has not been havesting." The butler came out, informing you. You nodded with a hum and thanked him.

"Looks like we have to repot and add some new plants while I try to revive these other ones." You said to yourself, making a mental note.

"So, how bad is it?" A voice came behind you. You straightened up and turned around to see one of men there. You didn't recognise him or knew his name.

"Hello. Nice to meet you. It's not that bad, just need to move the plants around." You bowed respectfully.

"That's good to hear. My name is Seonghwa. (y/n), right?" He tilted his head.

"Yes. Nice to meet you, Seonghwa sshi." You awkwardly bowed again. He exuded so much confidence and power, plus he was so elegantly beautiful, you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Thank you for helping us. Hongjoong said you volunteered to be our gardener." Seonghwa said.

"Oh, no need to thank. Any chance to work with plants in such a big garden." You shook your head. Maybe you didn't know him but there was an intimidating aura around him. Seonghwa was purposely trying to psych you out.

Just in case you had any ulterior motive in being here and getting close to Hongjoong. He didn't know that Hongjoong was the one constantly seeking you out.

"Do you need anything so far?" Seonghwa asked.

"Not at the moment. I didn't bring my tools with me but I will the next time. Hopefully to revive the herb garden." You said.

"What is Hwa doing?" Hongjoong's eyes widened when he turned to the window and saw Seonghwa standing there, talking to you. You were shifting on your feet, looking a little frightened.

"What's a pretty girl doing out here?" A deep voice appeared. Mingi stood there, a smirk on his face.

"No, Mingi ah. No." Seonghwa shook his head. Mingi obviously didn't recognise you from Hongjoong's mother's funeral.

"Selfish." Mingi scoffed but obeyed and headed into the house. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head. Having seen Mingi come, Hongjoong had raced down. Mingi was one of the ones that liked to get flirty with girls. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of Mingi trying to flirt with you.

"Was that Mingi?" Hongjoong lied and acted nonchalant, trying to hide the fact that he was panting from how fast he ran down the stairs. You blinked in confusion at his behaviour.

"Yes, why? He just got home." Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I... Uh, needed to ask him something... So, (y/n), how's the garden?" Hongjoong changed the subject.

"It's alright. My plan is to revive the herb garden and some stuff need to be moved around, they shouldn't be grown together. And some of them are planted in the wrong soil." You explained.

"I guess the gardener before you wasn't as good as we thought." Hongjoong joked.

"They're common mistakes, I guess." You chuckled.

"Didn't you have to find Mingi?" Seonghwa cleared his throat as he reminded Hongjoong. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, giving Seonghwa a suspicious glance.

"See you later, (y/n)." Hongjoong said. You waved as he went back into the house. Seonghwa didn't stay too long too since you just went back to what you were doing. Honestly, it was awkward to have any conversation with him so you focussed on the plants.

"Mingi ah. You don't recognise her?" Hongjoong asked. Mingi shook his head, a look of confusion on his face.

"She's the girl that was at my mother's funeral... The one that knew her..." Hongjoong reminded.

"Oh! Oh... I didn't recognise her. I've only seen her like once, hyung. I barely remember all the girls that hang with us." Mingi shrugged. Hongjoong facepalmed.

"Whatever but no flirting, okay? She's here to be our temporary gardener, that's all." Hongjoong lectured.

"Yeah, yeah, captain. I get it, she's off limits." Mingi waved him off.

"I was going to tell everyone about her being here and working in the house tonight but I guess I should tell everyone now." Hongjoong sighed and took his phone out to send a text to the group.

"And Mingi, no weapons, no blood, nothing of that sort on the days she's here." Hongjoong said.

"Yes, captain." Mingi saluted and went to the kitchen to find some food since he was a little hungover from partying all night.

"The doctor's done with San." Seonghwa came and informed Hongjoong. The captain nodded and headed upstairs with his second in command to check on their brother. Seonghwa knocked on San's door lightly before the two of them entered. San was against the headboard, with an annoyed look on his face.

"Oh, hyungs. It's the two of you. I thought it was that annoying doctor again." San rolled his eyes, reading documents on his iPad. Seonghwa shook his head.

"He was just telling you to get bed rest, San ah. Yeosang said you went down bad last night." Seonghwa said.

"I'm fine. It's just some minor injuries, it's normal. I don't need bed rest." San shrugged.

"Just listen to the doctor, San. No fighting for a bit. In the mean time, help Wooyoung out with the casino stuff." Hongjoong instructed. San was going to protest but decided against it.

"Fine." He slumped.

"At least until you've recovered. Oversee things as the owner, just don't participate." Seonghwa told him.

"Easy for you to say, hyung. You get into a motorcycle crash and still continue racing." San glared. Seonghwa's eyes widened but San knew what he was doing.

"You what?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa muttered a curse and shot San the stink eye before slowly turning to see Hongjoong there, with his hands on his hips and a disappointed frown on his face. San smiled victoriously, he wasn't going down on his own.

"It wasn't a major crash." Seonghwa sighed.

"Still a crash, nonetheless Hwa! How could you continued racing?" Hongjoong scolded. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and held Hongjoong's shoulder, pushing him out of the room.

"Hongjoong, don't overreact. It was a minor thing. No serious injuries." Seonghwa said.

"Still, you should tell me if you get hurt." Hongjoong said.

"I will, I will. Now please get back to work. I don't want to find you loitering in the garden." Seonghwa teased. Hongjoong squinted his eyes at Seonghwa.

"Don't even go there." He warned and walked back to his office to do work.

If Hongjoong was worried about you, he could just periodically check in on you from his office window. No, not creepy at all.

"Luckily I have my spade at least." You sighed in relief as you dug through the soil to uproot one of the plants. You felt bad for creating such a mess and getting the soil onto the pavement. But you needed to move the plants, you would have to help them clean up the pavements later when you're done.

"There you go. Welcome to your new home." You smiled as you placed the plant into the new hole you dug, shovelling the soil over the roots and lightly packing it down.

"Excuse me, where's the bathroom?" You entered the house.

"Let me take you, miss." The maid bowed and led you down one of the hallways. She opened the bathroom door for you.

"Thanks." You smiled and entered. The first thing you did was wash your hands thoroghly, not wanting to drop any dirt or soil on the ground of the house.

When you were done with the bathroom, you stepped out and almost bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed and bowed repeatedly. The man shot you an odd look. He was covered in injuries.

"It's fine." He mumbled and walked past you, continuing on his way. Even if you didn't know him, it was concerning to see someone so badly hurt. Was he in a fight? Or did he get beaten up?

"Miss, do you need help getting back to the garden?" A maid came up to you when she saw you standing there in the hallway. You lied and nodded your head. With a small smile, she led you back to where the backyard was.

"Thanks." You smiled gratefully and went back to the area you were initially working on.

"Yunho sshi?" You blinked, seeing him stand there, looking at the hole in the soil that you had dug up previously.

"Why are you digging holes?" He asked.

"Some of the plants are in the wrong soil or shouldn't be grown next to each other so I'm trying to move them. I can't do it all today but I'll start plot by plot." You explained.

"Isn't all soil the same? It's dirt." He stated. There was such a confused look on his face as he tilted his head at you.

"A lot of people think all soil is the same, just dirt. But there are different nutrition levels, the way they retain water, all that differs from soil to soil. Even how they pack around the roots." You giggled.

"Oh... If all the soil here is the same, our gardeners before you must really suck." Yunho clicked his tongue.

"Hongjoong said the same thing earlier too but all I can say is, being a gardener isn't as easy as it seems." You shrugged.

"You're too humble, (y/n)." Yunho smiled charmingly. The two of you burst out laughing. You were unaware that Yunho sent a small wave to someone who was watching your entire interaction from his office window.

~

Series masterlist

[ladybyakuya]

are we still friends? + (togame jo, sugista kyotaro,choji tomiyama,kota sako)

cws. | gn!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, sorta character study, fluff, angst, comfort. | redirect to blog navigation.

syn. | How do they react to confession when the feelings are mutual?

notes. | omg! here's part two. read part one here. enjoy <3

☆ Togame Jo : "Did Choji put you up for this?" Togame enquires with a sharp tone, eyebrows ever so slightly growing close to each other that it goes away when you blink. The question hits you like a stone on your head. Why would he do that? unless . . . he already did that what's it got anything to do with him? Did Choji pull a prank like this before? and he might have liked them. . . and might not have. . .pushing the thoughts aside  you ask keeping your voice as even as possible,

"Would your answer be any different if that wasn't the case?" Of course, he has his wall high up. Not only that, the surface of the wall is full of sharp spikes so that no one can climb, not even you. It is no surprise that he would be so rude when a wave of affection washes over him. You force a smile upon your face and look down. The empty bottle of the cold drink containing a marble ball that was circling a while ago comes to a halt now. That's right. He should not have said that out loud. It is surprising in the first place when someone like you, so far away from his world is into him and it is even more surprising when you have the heart to confess. He did not mean to sound rude. . .It's just that . . .

"Sorry, I should not have asked that." He says trying his best he can to keep himself. He takes a quick glance at you through the corner of his eyes. Even for a split second, he saw your lips trembling. He curses himself keeping the bottle aside on the bench. "Well, no." His voice is so low, so meek that he has to clear his throat and straighten up before speaking. "No. Absolutely not. My answer would not change." was he scared? wait, he is . . . scared? He has never been the one to pray to God but now, at this moment with all his heart he asks the heavens not to let you cry. He does not wish to witness that since he does not know how to handle it. He has only been known to handle things with violence and dominance, not with talking and kindness. He takes off his glasses and stands up to face you who is still sitting on the bench head down as if gravity is growing stronger at each second. You feel a wind pass by before a cloth rests on your back, embracing your shoulders. You look up with eyes full of water up to the brim. "That's . . . that's my way of telling."

It takes a moment to sink into you what he actually meant and wear his jacket properly thinking how emotionally constipated he is. what is this? A competition? you let out a long hum.

"that's all you have to say?" Togame says impatiently. "I tell you that you like you and all you say is "hmm", huh? You grin from war to ear, and standing up you pinch his cheeks. He does not recoil like a spring-like you expected him to.

"Yeah. You said that now." Togame looks away unable to meet your water-full eyes anymore, warmth spreading over his cheeks, ears and even neck.

★ Sugishita Kyotaro

Sugishita's world is totally mapped out and it all revolves around Umemiya-san. But the moment you said you like him, his everlasting face of boredom did not do much except his eyebrows grew closer together. Is that the face of a surprised person? You ponder but it is meaningless because his eyes are onto you and all he is doing is to inspect you. If the wills and worlds had the potential he would put you under microscope. But even with so much effort all he does is to ask the most stupid question ever. “Do you? Do you really like me? You nod since your throat has become dry. He chins his face for a second and then turns towards you asking with a mellowed tone, “Is it the “i like you as a lover” or ...?” He does not get to finish his sentence while you cover your face and nod tremendously. almost five times in a row. His eyes spread wide. You are covering your face. You do not wish to see his reaction, nor prepared for the answer he is about to give. You feel a feather touch around your wrists as he whispers, “i do too. I like you too.” as he peels off your hand carefully. As someone who is known to be only talking with fists he certainly is not rigid and rough with you. He holds your hand as you look at him for a few seconds and then guides your palms over his cheeks. “y/n-san, Tell me again that you like me and I'll tell you again.” he says sinking in to your touch.

☆ Choji Tomiyama

"Huh?" It was all he could say when those magical words came out of your mouth. Within a blink of your eyes, he jumps so high that you feel if he really wanted, he could touch the sky. Then his cheeks puff a little before a devasted choice of words escapes his mouth,“It’s not fair. I wanted to say it at first,” When it registers in your head you think he might have misheard you so you try to say again but he quickly grabs your hand saying, “Why didn't you give me heads up? I wanted to tell you first that I like you. It's not fairrrreee.” if anything's is unfair is that how a leader seems to act in such a childlike manner but it's okay. This is why you fell for him. He stops whining and says in one breath, "So, then I'll be the one to take you on a date. " he is still holding your hand.

★ Kota Sako

For someone who's eyes are always glued on Hiragi, movements and talks trying to imitate Hiragi he certainly is more than aware of himself and his surroundings. You expect him to brush away your plea when you ask him to stay after the class or even just decline you by saying that he is busy or the worst: simply ignoring you even after hearing. But none of that happens. He waits for you after the class patiently, listens to all you have to say, and then says, "I'll think about it." while internally practically panicking so hard that his head starts to hurt by the time he reaches home. When you reach home, you get a text from an unknown number saying, "So, let's date then. -Sako."

[giannan04]

Hiii, can you please write a Yandere San X reader fanfic? Maybe where he’s her therapist and he gets her to break up with her bf because he’s been obsessed with her? 🙏🏽make it dark pleaseee? Tyy in advance

Thanks for the request!💕🫶🏻I hope you like it, I tried to fit everything in the best I could 🥹🫶🏻I hope it’s dark enough for you 👀

-

Pairing: Therapist Yandere! Choi San x afab! Reader, Mention of Jung Wooyoung X afab! Reader

Genre: Yandere; thriller

Warnings: Manipulation, mentions of a toxic relationship, slight smut, character death, very slight gore.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞

-

Dr. San Choi's reputation preceded him. He was the therapist everyone seemed to swear by. Patients praised his ability to get results where others failed, and he was known for treating some of the most complex mental health cases in the city. When your relationship with Wooyoung started having problems, your best friend Mingi suggested therapy. You were hesitant at first, but when he specifically recommended Dr. Choi, someone who had worked wonders for him, you decided to give it a try.

“Trust me, San’s the real deal,” Mingi said, leaning in with that serious look he gets when he really means something. “He helped me when I was going through one of the darkest periods in my life. If anyone’s gonna help you figure out what’s going on, it’s him.”

That’s how you found yourself meeting with San in his warmly lit office multiple times a week. From the start, Dr.Choi had a way of making you feel truly heard, like every word you said mattered. He never rushed through sessions and even went as far as canceling other appointments just so you could have more time when you needed it. He never told you that you were wrong, no matter how messy or complicated your relationship issues sounded. Instead, he listened with that same calm, reassuring expression that made you feel understood and validated. Over time, he even gave you his home address, offering to meet there if you ever needed to talk outside of office hours. You didn’t think much of it—you just figured he was incredibly dedicated to his work and to helping you through this tough time.

Over the weeks, San subtly guided you into believing that your relationship was toxic, that Wooyoung was holding you back. He never said it outright; instead, he asked questions that made you second-guess everything. "Do you feel like you're truly happy?" he'd ask, his voice gentle but insistent. "Sometimes, we stay in situations because we're afraid of being alone, not because they're right for us." Little by little, you found yourself reexamining your relationship with Wooyoung.

San’s advice seemed to play on repeat whenever you fought with Wooyoung. The tension between you two had been getting worse for months, with minor disagreements escalating into major arguments. Every time you argued with Wooyoung, you couldn’t shake the feeling that San’s words were right there with you. Even though part of you still hoped things could improve, the truth was hard to ignore: deep down, you knew San was right, there was no saving your relationship. It felt like there was no way to fix what had become broken, despite your hopes that things could somehow get better.

One night, after another argument left you in tears, you found yourself at San's apartment instead of your own. You needed someone to talk to, and San was the first person you could think of. You had caught Wooyoung with another girl, and you didn’t want to be alone. You needed to let everything out. Your heart was broken, and you know the only person you could talk to was San. You hadn't planned on it, but he'd always offered you to come to his place,and before you knew it, there you were, standing outside his front door.

When San opened the door, pleasantly surprised to see you. His brows furrowed as he glanced at his watch. “Y/N? What happened? It’s almost midnight,” he asked, concern replacing the confusion in his eyes as he noticed that you were sobbing. Tears covered your face, and you were so hurt and anxious that you were shaking. San’s heart broke seeing you like that. Without hesitation, his expression softened, and he gently took your trembling hand. “Come in,” he said, his voice soothing as he pulled you into the safety of his home.

You sat on his couch, trying to hold back more tears as you told him everything—how you found Wooyoung with another girl, how you felt like your relationship was falling apart. San listened intently, never taking his eyes off you, nodding with genuine empathy. When you finished, San leaned in closer, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “You deserve so much better than this, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and comforting. “You deserve someone who would never even think of hurting you like that. Someone who truly values you.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words and the way his hand lingered on your face, the soft caress sending a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. His touch was tender yet firm, making you feel safe; cared for. You haven’t felt that way in a while. You caught your breath as he leaned in just a bit closer, his other hand gently resting on your thigh, as if waiting for your permission. “I can show you what it feels like to be treated right,” he murmured, his gaze darkening with desire. Despite the hesitation you felt at the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny the lust and attraction you felt in that moment. You leaned into his touch, your body responding before your thoughts could catch up.

His lips were dangerously close now, and there was no more space between you. All the tension, all the confusion, all the heartbreak you were feeling—everything faded away as his hands slid further up your skirt, placing his hands on your ass, pulling you into him with a gentle firmness that felt intoxicating. “Let me take care of you, Y/N,” San whispered, his words making your body tingle and heart flutter. And before you could even think to resist, you found yourself nodding, your body betraying you. In your head, you knew this was wrong, but your body felt so right. And you needed, no, deserved to be loved and cared for. It was about damn time.

“I want you, San… I need you. Please, take care of me,” you told him softly, never looking away from his brown almond-shaped eyes. That was all San needed to hear-the very words he had been waiting for since the moment you stepped into his office. San smirked, as he began undressing you with a deliberate slowness, savoring every second. He took in each sight of your beautiful body, pleased that it belonged to him.Before you knew it, he was fucking you right there in his living room, each touch, each kiss, each thrust leaving you wanting more. For the first time in months, Wooyoung and your relationship problems vanished from your mind, replaced by the warm sensation of San's hands on your body, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. The way his dick filled you up, the way he kissed your body was he made love to you.

The only things you were thinking about was how you never wanted San to stop making love to you. And San knew, finally… you belonged to him. San's hands rested possessively on your waist as he thrusted deeper and deeper inside you, your ass slapping against his thighs. You moaned uncontrollably, never wanting him to stop. You wanted to show him he had complete control over you. San’s eyes never left the sight of you, he loved seeing what a slut you could be for him, and how only he could make you feel this way. Smirking, he bent down close to your ear, whispered sweetly to you. "See? You feel it, don't you? How good we are together. You don't need him, Y/N. I'm the one who understands you, who can give you everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. Only I can make you feel this way. You belong to me, and I’m never letting you go."

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the curtains, but the warmth in the living room felt oddly suffocating. You noticed a heavy blanket was draped over your naked body. You must have fallen asleep after what happened last night, so San must’ve brought a blanket out for you. You glanced over and San was still lying beside you, sleeping peacefully. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist. Yawning, you reached for your phone which was on the floor next to you. You unlocked your phone, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw a text from Wooyoung: I know I fucked up. But I love you. And I want us to work on things. I don’t want to lose you. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.

Your heart fluttered with a sense of hope, but before you could respond to the text, you felt San's eyes boring into you. You looked up at him, not realizing how closely he was watching your every move. You didn’t even hear him wake up. His expression remained calm, but the slight clenching of his jaw told you everything. He was furious. He must’ve seen you open the message on your phone when he woke up.

"Oh. Wooyoung texted me. He wants to fix things," you said, a little too eagerly, not noticing the anger settling into San's expression.

San's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"That's... nice," he murmured, though his voice didn’t reflect that. He actually sounded pissed, but you could tell he wasn’t trying to show it. San stood up, wrapping the blanket around him as he walked towards his bedroom. “I have to get dressed. You can stay here as long as you need, Y/N. I actually have to head out for another appointment, but make yourself at home, alright?"

You nodded. “Okay, thank you,” you said sweetly, ignoring the tension.

San drove in silence, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He replayed your excitement over Wooyoung's text in his mind, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. How could you be so blind? After everything he had done to get you away from Wooyoung, after showing you what real love felt like, you still had the nerve to be excited about that cheating scumbag reaching out! Pissed off didn’t even begin to describe how San felt. He was so angry his eyes twitched and his hands shook as he drove. He had to do something, he was about to have you all to himself until that mother fucker sent you that text.

His thoughts darkened further as he arrived at the home you shared with Wooyoung. His plan formed in his mind, making him feel only a little better. He knocked on the door, his face wearing the mask of a friendly, concerned therapist. Really, he was the furious therapist who wanted to fuck somebody up.

Wooyoung opened the door, blinking in surprise. "San? Aren't you YIN's therapist?"

San let out a cheerful laugh. "Yeah, I am! My office is getting renovated, so I thought I'd stop by and see how things are going. I know Y/ N's been having a tough time, and I wanted to touch base."

Wooyoung relaxed slightly, shrugging. "She's not here right now, but come in. We can talk about how she's been doing. Ive been wanting to talk to you, anyway. Maybe you can give me some insight."

San stepped inside, carefully observing every detail of the house, the place where you once tried to build a future with someone who never deserved you. They moved throughout the home and as Wooyoung started talking, San could feel his blood boiling but he knew he had to remain calm. Wooyoung would get what he deserved shortly.

Wooyoung led San into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Want some?” he asked, holding the bottle up. “No, thank you. I’m just here under professional circumstances” San smiled, watching as Wooyoung shrugged and opened the bottle. “Suit yourself,” he said, taking a sip. San and Wooyoung sat at the table, ready to discuss sessions. Which was what San wanted Wooyoung to think, anyway.

"Ever since she started therapy, it's like she's blowing everything out of proportion.

She's been acting like our problems are way bigger than they actually are, like she's ooking for an excuse to leave. I don't know, man... it feels like she's being pushed into seeing the worst in me." Wooyoung stared long and hard at San.

San's eyes darkened, his smile slipping for just a moment as he watched Wooyoung ramble on. How dare he accuse him of manipulating you? Wooyoung was the one who had been lying to you, hurting you, cheating on you, and who knows what else. Hell, this dick was the whole reason you needed therapy in the first place! And yet here he was, acting like the victim.

"You really think so?" San's voice was low, dangerous. He took a step closer to Wooyoung, who didn't seem to notice the shift in San's tone.

"Yeah, it's like she's-" Wooyoung was cut off by the sudden pressure of San's hand around his neck. Panic flashed in Wooyoung's eyes as he struggled against San’s grip.

“San, what…what the hell are you doing?" Wooyoung croaked, trying to break himself free. He managed to break out of the hold, shoving San back with surprising strength, but San's fury was beyond reason now. The therapist quickly regained control, his movements turning brutal as he rained down punches, each one fueled by the sickening memories of everything Wooyoung had done to hurt you.

"This is for Y/N," San hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes wild as he struck Wooyoung with relentless force. San began to stop on Wooyoung, not caring that his blood was getting thrown into the air.

"For every tear she shed because of you."

Wooyoung's resistance weakened as blood dripped from his split lips and broken nose. San's breaths were ragged as he lifted Wooyoung's head by his hair, glaring into his fading eyes. “Pl-please, man…don’t do this. I love Y/n. I never hurt her that much. Believe me”, Wooyoung tears mixed with the blood covering his face satisfied San beyond reason. “Sorry, but with you gone, Y/n will be happier. If you really loved her, you wouldn’t mind dying.” With a final surge of strength, San twisted his hand, the sickening crack of Wooyoung's neck snapping echoing in the room as he tore his head clean off.

The lifeless expression on Wooyoung's face was frozen in terror as San calmly wiped his hands on a towel he found in the kitchen. The sight of Wooyoung's head dangling by his fingers didn't faze him-in fact, he was feeling a sense of satisfaction

San returned to his apartment, already mentally preparing to tell you to ignore Wooyoung’s text, that he didn’t deserve you. But when he entered his home, he found you pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

"San, I've been thinking... maybe I should give Wooyoung another chance," you blurted out. You didn't notice how San's entire demeanor shifted, his smile growing unnervingly cold.

"Why would you even consider that, Y/N?" San's voice was sharper than you expected, laced with barely-contained fury. You thought your therapist would’ve been happy for you, that you were ready to work things out. “After everything he's put you through, why would you care? Especially after what we did last night."

His words cut through you like ice. You hadn't anticipated such a strong reaction from him. Your face turned bright red and you avoided his gaze. "I... I don't know. I guess I was just confused. I just wanted to feel loved but I’m in love with Wooyoung, and it’s hard to let go of someone you cared about for so long."

San's eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. "You shouldn't have even cared when he texted you. Do you think that was fair to me? Letting me be the one to comfort you, only to get excited over him? And then you let me fuck you-" His words dripped with venom as his eyes blazed with barely-restrained anger. “You’re a worthless whore. Disgusting… I don’t know how I’m even looking at you right now. I shouldn’t have felt bad for you all of those times you came to my office, crying about him. You deserve to be treated like shit!”, his words dripped with venom, his face turning red as he screamed in your face. Your ears throbbed and you broke down in tears. San was scaring you, and the things he was saying to you hurt.

You took a step back, sobs shaking your body. San... I didn't mean for things to get so complicated… please stop yelling at me, you’re scaring me!,” you put your hands in front of your face, just in case he was going to starting hitting you.

San's expression hardened, and without another word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the living room. "I think it's time I show you something, Y/n.

You nodded, unsure of what he had to show you. For some reason, there was a feeling in your stomach, a gut feeling. Something was off. The unease grew as he led you to a trash bag that was sitting in front of the front door. “What’s that?,” you asked, confused. Why on earth was he showing you a trash bag? Did he want you to take the garbage out?

San laughed, but it wasn’t humorous. With a single swift motion, San tore the trash bag open, revealing the gruesome sight inside.

Wooyoung's severed head stared back at you, lifeless eyes wide open in horror. His olive skin had turn a sickly gray color, and a stench burned your nose. Your breath caught in your throat as you stumbled back, terror freezing you in place. You screamed, your hands covering your eyes as you dropped to the floor. “Why… why would you do this?”, you covered your face, as you choked on snot and tears. Your body shook and between the crying, the smell of rotting flesh, and the sight of the love of your life’s body-less head was all too much. You stared up at San. Someone you trusted with your problems, someone you felt safe with, was a monster. San looked at you, a twisted grin on his face.

"Now, Y/N, tell me... are you still confused about who really cares about you?"

-

I’m still taking requests everyone, I’ll write anything🫶🏻❤️

[tojjist]

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

[gemharvest]

Finally blessing tumblr with a native version of this video. That has been on YouTube for like a month now. I am the best at poasting ever.

[Video Description: A meme with Friday Night Funkin' characters, done with the audio of "wow its the empire state building", originally posted to YouTube by @/brombo. Captions for the audio are done in Comic Sans font at the bottom of the video. It opens with a close-up of Boyfriend and Girlfriend holding hands, facing to the right at a 3/4 angle, while Boyfriend points forward to say "WOW it's the Empire State Building"It opens with a close-up of Boyfriend and Girlfriend holding hands, facing to the right at a 3/4 angle, while Boyfriend points forward to say "WOW it's the Empire State Building". He stops pointing once finished speaking, holding a smug expression while Girlfriend smiles. It cuts to a view further away from the two, which holds for a second before the silhouette of Pico pops into frame on the right side to say "Let me explain this in a language you understand..." BF and GF's expressions change to ones of confusion as question marks appear beside them. The camera then cuts to show Pico from the front, no longer a silhouette and can be seen holding one of his guns out, as he shakes his head and says "that is not the Empire State Building". He then looks to the left and gestures his gun out while sliding to the right, the outline of the state of California sliding into view. He says "that is the entirety of the state of Califor-" The video then cuts to uncolored doodles of the three, BF and GF standing with stunned expressions and an ellipses to the right of GF. Pico stands more seriously. The final six frames are of Pico and BF kissing with drool (Pico kneeling) while Girlfriend cheers "That's how you do it!!" in all caps. End Description]

[itstheghostofmypast]

Meow

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: He had spent an entire millennia in solitude, waiting for her to come back to him, bearing this curse that was a constant reminder of his ignorance, his mistake, and his guilt. He had forgotten how fate had always been cruel to him, punishing him for all he had done, and so be it, meeting her in the 21st century should have brought him joy- there was only one problem, his love for her may not have decreased a drop, but she may love Poofy more than she ever loved him.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort Fluff

Warnings: death of a major character, war, PTSD.

A/N: Here's a quick peak of what this series will comprise, I wanted it to be a one-shot, but turning it into a series would be easier for me since this semester has me sobbing. If you want to join the tag list, please feel free to comment below! @edenesth HOW ARE WE FEELING ABOUT THE PIC? HMMMM?

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Rating: mature

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

"So, you're either a hook-up who hasn't left yet, which is hella creepy dude, it's 10 am- a secret boyfriend I was never told about which proves I have been a horrible best friend or you're a freak who broke inside mind you I am a cop."

He froze mid-walk, eyes wide and swirling with panic. His instincts were telling him to bolt out the door, but the tug in his chest followed by his heart dropping to his stomach had him frozen in spot, years- no millennia; he had kept safe, he had kept it a secret and to think he would be discovered not by the one destined to be with him, but this mutt- apologies, he used to be a mutt, centuries ago, the same time he had found his mate, ridding him of the curse. What stood before him now was a human, a reborn version of the hyperactive, clingy, filthy-

"I believe you're the creep who is my innocent Y/N's dream man?"

"I can explain."

"Oh?" quirking his head to the side, his eyes scanned the other man, who was dressed in nothing but a towel around his waist, droplets of his fresh shower hanging off the tips of his onyx locks and falling onto the carpet. Yunho’s hand was itching to reach his gun hooked to his belt, hidden with his jacket, he may have been a bit taller than the intruder, but the man looked well built, enough to put up a fight, so he may need to make this quick.

“I’m Poofy.”

“I- you’re what?”

“Poofy, the cat, Y/N’s cat, the one she saved.”

“I might need to call for backup.” He mumbled to himself, taking out his gun and aiming at the barely covered man.

His eyes widened at the statement, shaking his head as he raised his hands in the air, “Listen to me, I’m not lying, Yunho.”

His name caused him to pause, so the intruder knew his name, huh, “How long have you been stalking her?”

“I haven’t I- a millennia later and you’re still so annoying,” letting out a whine, the man stomped his foot against the carpet, the movement leading his towel to slip off, both men freezing as soon as the plush, wet material hit the ground, their eyes meeting for a split second before Yunho’s trailed down, pausing and taking in the sight.

“I don’t remember if she ever mentioned a big-

“I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING TO HER, YOU DAMN MUTT.”

[kimetsu-chan]

~playing in the snow headcanons~

A/N: so I asked five of my friends if I should have snow or instruments be the main focus on what I was gonna write, and four of em said snow :3 so we got some playing in the snow headcanons with some my fav bsd characters.

Characters: Akutagawa, Atsushi, Chuuya, Sigma, Nikolai, Ranpo, Kyouka, Lucy, and Tanizaki

TWs ⚠️: Uhh- I don’t think there are any, but it is important to note that Kyouka’s is the only one that is written to be strictly platonic. You can choose romantic or platonic for the others :D GN!Reader

I think there are slight spoilers in Sigma’s?

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

It would take a lot of convincing to get that man within five feet of the door. And I mean a lot.

Why would you want to go outside in the freezing cold when you can stay inside where it’s nice and cozy?!

Once you explain to him that you want to play in the snow, he gets even more confused.

Why-?

He’d be sitting in a chair, his feet propped up on something with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other while staring up at you like you just grew two heads.

After you told him it was fun and something you really wanted to do, he stare for a second or two longer before spitting out a response.

“Okay….? Then go play in the snow..? What, do you need my permission??”

“No, I want you do come with me, Ryū!”

He would let silence envelope you so for a moment or so before saying a quick and simple “No.” and going back to reading.

After some puppy dog eyes and the best begging you could muster(along with a deal that you’d leave him alone for at least six hours afterwards) he’d finally go with you.

And when he was dressed up and finally ready to go outside with you, he’d watch you excitedly start making a snowman with a fond look on his face.(he will deny enjoying this for the rest of time.)

Atsushi Nakajima

He is hopping out of his seat and putting five coats on at the mere mention of snow.

Heck yes he wants to go out and play in the snow with you!

Did you even have to ask?

You could tell him to put some warm clothes on and be ready to go outside and he’d do it in a heartbeat and with absolutely zero hesitation.

The first thing he wants to do when yall get outside is make snow angels. And he wants your snow angel to “hold hands” with his (they’re just next to each other)

He’ll let you choose what to do next, deeming it “only fair” since he got to choose first.

“No- [Name]-San-! You get to chose!”

“But I don’t know what I want to do, Atsu, you should pick!”

It would be just a bunch of giggly “no you”s back and forth until you finally relent and ask to make a snowman.

And you best believe that he is going to make that the most cozy looking snowman you’ve ever seen.

It is going to be even more fashionable than Chuuya Nakahara. (No it’s not.)

Chuuya Nakahara

Once again, a lot of convincing will be needed.

What did you expect? The man is extremely busy like 24/7, he doesn’t have time to play in the snow?

But he can’t just deny you when you come up to him to ask him so sweetly if he can please come play with you in the snow.

He wants nothing more than to accept and make you happy, but he really needs to finish his work.

So he sighs and comes up with an alternative.

“How about this, [Name]. I’ll work for about another thirty minutes, then we can go outside, okay?”

“That works! Thanks Chuuya!”

“You’re welco-“

He gets cut off when you roughly wrap your arms around him in a quick hug before running off to do who knows what.

He stares off after you for a few seconds before turning back to his work with a shake of his head and smile.

(Extra bc we can’t end Chuuya’s w/o him actually getting outside 🤭)

When he actually finishes his work, he exited his office to see you already playing outside.

He decided that it would be most fun to quickly get ready and sneak up on you, who was busily forming the base of a snow fort.

There was a yelp as cold snow fell on top of you, and you turned to glare at the ginger who was smirking smugly.

But don’t worry, you got him back by pushing him over into the snow and dropping some snow down his shirt.

Sigma

Poor boy-

Being three years old, the poor guy has never played with snow once in his entire life.

So when you ask him to go with you, you’ll have to explain to him what the heck snowmen and snowball fights were.

He’s mildly interested when you do explain, but he doesn’t quite understand the point.

Doesn't being outside in the cold for a long time give you the risk to get sick?

Overall, he’s rather confused about the purpose of playing with cold, wet snow, but he’d agree.

Once he was free, that is.

And that turned out to be a lot quicker than he thought it would, perhaps it’s because your “silly” wants have peaked his interest.

He would quickly finish his duties his duties within the sky casino, and go to find you and get ready.

When you guys step outside, Sigma immediately felt chilly. The high altitude of the casino only making it colder.

“[Name]… Are you sure this is a good idea-“

He grunted as a snowball landed square in his face.

You giggled as you saw him frozen as he processed what you just did.

Before you could ask if he was okay, he quickly picked up some snow and threw it back at you.

He had a small smirk on his face, oh it was game on.

Nikolai Gogol

Oh boy.

He was the one who initially proposed the idea of playing in the snow, because why wouldn’t he.

He doesn’t care if he’s supposed to be busy, he’s dragging you outside with him whether you like it or not.

You could be busy, you could be relaxing, and he’s suddenly ambushing you and struggling to get a coat over your head.

He will make sure you’re nicely dressed for being in the snow.

After all, you’re no fun if you’re sick.

As he’s yanking you to your feet and dressing you in so many layers, you may as well become a fur ball at this point, he’ll be running his mouth, explaining in grave detail what he wanted to do.

“Okay, so first, we’re gonna make little forts, then we’re gonna hide behind them and throw snowballs at each other. Now- I promise not to throw them too hard, okay?”(that’s a lie, he’ll throw them as hard as he pleases)

You could only watch and nod as he led you outside to begin building.

I sure hope you wrote out your will.

Ranpo Edogawa

He’s busy eating snacks working at his desk, when you came in.

He took one look at your face and flushed cheeks from already having been outside for a while, and knew exactly what you wanted.

He debated whether or not abandoning his precious sna— I uh- I mean work just to make you happy.

He thought it over for a second and decided he could go a little bit without his food, and could grace you with his wonderful presence.

He stood up from his seat with his usual smirk and pointed his unfinished lollipop in your direction.

You didn’t even get to ask him before he started bargaining with you.

“I’ll go outside with you on one condition, you gotta buy me lunch.”

You paused, that actually didn’t sound that bad, so you agreed.

You two quickly got dressed (after Ranpo put his snacks away) and headed out of the office to play in the snow, leaving a extremely frustrated Kunikida at the door yelling at you.

It wasn’t very long before all the grass/ground surrounding the agency was covered in snow angels.

Kyouka Izumi

To be honest, I see Kyouka getting rather excited.

Sure she hadn’t done it in a long time, but Kyouka used to love to play in the snow when she was younger.

It was kinda a bittersweet thing to her.

So when you asked, she was more than willing to go with you. She gently grabbed your hand and led you all the way to her and Atsushi’s dorm to get some warm clothes.

Seeing that she didn’t have enough to comfortably be outside, you took your scarf that was hanging loosely on your shoulders off and wrapped it around her neck to help her keep warm.

Kyouka smiled at you when you did so then with increased energy, she took your hand again and made her way outside.

She immediately opened her mouth and tried to catch a falling snowflake on her tongue, being successful in doing so.

She turned to you with wide eyes and pointed at where the now-melted snowflake had been.

“[Name], did you see that?”

“Mhm!”

“[Name], let’s go make snowmen..!”

Before you could even respond, Kyouka grabbed your hand and jogged to the nearest open space to make a snowman.

You guys ended up making two, a bigger one complete with its younger sister.

Lucy Maud Montgomery

Lucy, much like Akutagawa, would decline immediately at first.

She’s in the middle of a shift, she can’t just abandon her job as a waitress.

Or so she thought.

Until her boss gave her the go-ahead that she could take a break and go play in the snow.

Her next argument would be that she was “too mature” to go play in snow.

But then you turned that right back around at her and asked if that meant you were immature.

She stuttered and blushed from embarrassment as she denied what you said.

“N-No-! I didn’t mean you were immature! I just-“

“Then let’s go!”

Cue you grabbing her arm and running towards the building door and shoving her coat that you stole earlier into her arms.

Lucy sighed and reluctantly pulled her coat over her arms and stepped outside with you.

In the end, you guys had a lot of fun running around and pushing each other into the snow.

Tanizaki Jun’ichirō

Actually, Tanizaki was the one who suggested the idea.

He said it would be a fun way to get a break from all their work(totally not because he wanted to show off his snowball fight skills, nooo-)

He would offer to fetch your coat for you when you agreed, doing so anyway when you declined his offer.

He held your coat out for you as he put on his own on, happily suggesting the snowball fight he was planning.

You agreed, not thinking about how he could use his ability to his advantage.

And that’s exactly what he did.

He hid behind a tree and made his illusion self dash to hide somewhere else, effectively turning your attention away from where he actually was.

He hit you in the back of the head a little harder than he meant to, and immediately stood up to rush over and see if you were hurt.

“[Name]! I’m sorry, I didn’t me— AGH-“

Karma came so sweetly as he slipped and landed on his back.

There were no hard feelings though, you guys called a truce and laughed about it for the rest of the day

A/N: these were so fun to write, omg-

I hope you liked it! Please consider liking/reblogging if you did :3

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw

masterlist | next chapter

Six days after Maverick’s disappearance, Bradley isn’t quite whole anymore. But, there isn’t time to crumble.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc! avery mitchell : age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, extra warnings to be added chapter by chapter. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

“Rooster, those bandits are closing. We can’t go back.”

“Rooster, he’s gone. Maverick’s gone.”

It’s a stomach-sick, sweat inducing kind of fever that lingers now on this mild morning. Breeze blowing across his skin, patterned and rhythmic, reminding him every now and again to breathe.

It has been exactly six days since Pete Mitchell was declared missing in action. Six days since a missile meant for Bradley hit Pete’s plane and sent the sixty-five million dollar aircraft spiraling into miles and miles of desolate, freezing forest. Bradley has slept four times in those six days, and each time he has, his subconscious reminds him of exactly what he is responsible for

Today is a relatively chilly morning in May, and Bradley is sitting on the front step of a cottage near Bird Rock in northern San Diego. Today is the first day since he got home three and a half days ago that he has left his apartment. Natasha stayed over last night. She has stayed over every night. She slept by his side, on top of his covers, just holding his hand. When he was in the shower this morning, she laid out his clothes for him. She hasn’t ever known him to be this quiet. Ever.

He hasn’t said much at all since they got back. Natasha knows that he’s picturing himself alone in that forest. Dead, or worse.

Now, she sits at his side and rubs soft circles on his shoulder over the black fabric of his t-shirt. He would do it for her, if she was the one going through this. She would be too stubborn to listen to him too. They have known each other since flight school. Natasha got so drunk the first Friday that Bradley spent his entire first Friday holding her hair back while she threw up.

The next day, Bradley had embarrassed himself so badly in front of a girl he liked that he almost quit just so that they wouldn't have to see each other again.

That kind of thing bonds you for life: After that, they have remained pretty close. Especially now, when they need each other.

“Rooster, no one expects you to be here right now — you went through something awful out there.” She says it one last time anyway, even though she knows that it won’t change a single thing.

That’s one of the reasons that their friendship is so strong — sometimes a person just has to do what they have to do, Bradley and Natasha respect that sentiment. Even if it means texting back a no-good ex, or staying out a little too late on a work night now and again. Each other’s best interests are always at heart, but it’s human to not put yourself first now and again.

Bradley hasn’t sat on the steps of Maverick’s two bedroom beach cottage since he was thirteen. Right before Maverick pissed off an admiral and got shipped out somewhere crazy, somewhere cold — he can’t remember exactly where anymore, he never wrote a letter there.

That was all right before he started only seeing Maverick on holidays and special occasions, the occasional baseball game.

Pete bought this place back in the eighties.

He got it for a steal. A craftsman bungalow three blocks from the beach, with two bedrooms and a small yard. He had wanted to be close to Carole, and he had just gotten married.

Bradley’s memories of Charlie are faint, but he knows that her father helped Pete with the down payment. Maverick hated him for that. His first and, as it happened, only marriage hadn’t lasted very long. Two or three years, maximum. She was gone before Bradley finished second grade, anyway.

He remembers that she always made sure they had the ice-cream that he liked when he came to stay here — Mav had always been a little bit more forgetful when it came to that stuff.

The spare room here used to be Bradley’s. Back when his mom worked weekends at a hotel in La Jolla, and he and Pete would take Friday night trips to Blockbuster every week.

He hasn’t even been inside yet. He can’t imagine how much the interior would have changed since those weekends back in the nineties.

Glancing down at the IWC clock face on his wrist, the big hand has been creeping up on ten o’ clock for what feels like hours by now.

Breeze sweeps a strand of Natasha’s hair off of her face. She leans against her best friend, her palm trailing to the middle of his back.

Natasha has two parents. They definitely don’t see eye-to-eye often, but she knows where they are. It’s a Sunday, they’ll be at Costco. She has a sister who gets on her nerves but adores her nonetheless, Leona will be at a spin class this morning. None of the people she loves are missing. If one of them were, she would have others to lean on.

For Bradley, it’s just her now.

“I can’t let her turn up to an empty house.” Bradley’s voice comes out more hoarse than either of them is expecting it to. He hasn’t cried yet. He keeps thinking he might, the urge is there, but the tears just don’t come.

Bradley doesn’t even know her. Not really. Not even when he was a kid. It’s been sixteen years since Bradley was even on speaking terms with Maverick. Even when he still was, the news about Maverick’s accidental bundle of joy had been quite hush-hush.

He saw her a couple of times, the wriggling infant with perpetually sticky hands in an out of place looking car seat in one of Mav’s sports cars.

It doesn’t matter now that he never got to know her. Because of him, her life will be different forever. He’s got a debt to her father that he’ll never repay. For the sake of that, he’s willing to wait hours for her to turn up.

It has been six days. If Maverick survived the initial hit, and the ejection, then he has still been out in the snow for six days.

Probably injured. Alone. Being hunted. He’s gone. And yet, Bradley just can’t — or won’t — grieve him. Moving on isn’t an option.

So, he just sits here and waits. He doesn’t even know who, really, he’s looking for. He never met the mother, hasn’t really seen any pictures of you ever.

Pete Mitchell’s only child. The last time he saw her was when she was three years old, staring at him from the backseat of her mother’s blue ford escort with a pacifier in her mouth while your parents argued a few feet away.

He’d been sitting on these same front porch steps, pissed off because Mav was making him late for his baseball game.

Admiral Simpson is the one that has been doing all of the correspondence. He did Bradley a favour by giving him a heads up that the girl was even coming. Bradley wouldn’t have even known how to contact her himself.

He doesn’t have Maverick’s number any more, much less a girl he met a handful of times.

Back when he knew her, she didn’t even know her numbers. And her mother lived up near Oregon. She was a waitress. Most of the time Pete drove up to see her, or the weekends that she visited him, Bradley would stay with a neighbour.

He bows his head just slightly, elbows rested on his parted knees. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn sweats. He hasn’t ever let Natasha dress him before. Today wasn’t a good day to start. Meeting Mav’s kid wouldn’t be a formal occasion, but under the circumstances he reconsiders.

His ears perk up at the sound of an engine misfire.

Natasha flinches against him. She’s not been feeling that great since they got home either. Her dreams are like his too. It doesn’t matter.

The car squeals around the corner at the far end of the street like its driver is trying to get it onto just two wheels. He lifts his head in time to see a steel blue ford escort hit the curb on the street just past Maverick’s property line.

Instantly, he pushes himself onto his feet. That kind of maniacal attitude to manning a vehicle must be hereditary.

Both he and Natasha watch as the driver slams their fists into the wheel in frustration. Then, the driver notices them for the first time.

Hair twisted up messily, her face stark and tired, with a caught expression like a scolded child. She swallows.

Avery Mitchell has seen Bradley Bradshaw periodically throughout her life. There is no escaping his image when Maverick’s around. But, none of those photos are recent. They’re all from at least twelve years ago now.

She blinks, vague recognition in her expression as the engine splutters to sleep and she gets out of the car with the keys in her hand.

While she thinks Bradley looks different, he can’t find any semblance of the way he remembers her in her face now at all. She’s not a little kid anymore.

Natasha pushes herself to her feet, brushing the dust from her palms onto her jeans. A brief look is sent towards her best friend, but he doesn’t reciprocate. He’s staring straight ahead as Avery starts off with one foot on the pavement, swinging the groaning car door shut behind her.

High top black converse. The other foot follows next. Jeans. Normal, appropriate for the early May weather before the heat really picks up. She exhales and her hand flies up to wring at the nape of her neck, sore from sitting all that way.

“Hi,” She forces out. “Bradley, right?”

That’s stupid. She knows who he is. He knows who she is. Both of them know why they’re here.

“Yeah.” Bradley agrees without a nod. His hands are neither in his pockets nor doing anything else that might be productive. He tells himself that he should maybe shake her hand, but he doesn’t. He tells himself that maybe he should say something more, but he doesn’t.

Towering over the pretty brunette at his side, Bradley doesn’t look anything like he had in his photos at high school graduation. His face is longer and wider at the same time, his cheeks have lost some of their roundness but they still have a youthful pink flush. His hair is shorter, auburn and tidy around the back and sides. Still trying to be curly on top.

He grew up near the beach and his skin tells the tale. Freckles and a golden glow to his skin that is an all year round kind of thing by now. Slight redness across his collarbones, the high points of his body where the sun hits most when he’s drying off after a swim.

In his eyes, Avery searches; she was hoping to find the boy from the pictures. The grinning blond in the baseball uniform. Something familiar down here, at least. Instead, there’s something else.

Whatever that look is, she hopes it isn’t pity. Just because his dad — no, she stops herself, she shouldn’t think that. It shouldn’t start out like this.

“How was the drive? — Not too bad, I hope?” The tiny brunette finally bursts through the wall of silence that Avery and Bradley have been competitively building up since her sneaker touched the pavement two minutes ago. “I’m Natasha. I work with… — I — I’m Bradley’s friend.”

“Hi.” Avery starts out, dropping her hands down to her sides and shifting on her feet. She glances back at the car — practically a smoking pile of crap on the road. “It wasn’t too bad. I need to see a mechanic while I’m here, but — I don’t know. I’ll find time.” Just from watching her, Natasha can see that Avery is a personal all over the place.

Neither here nor there. She doesn’t look like you’ve been crying, either. Mascara intact, lips glossed, her makeup looks pretty.

But, there’s a restlessness in her eyes that gives her away.

Bradley knows that it has been a long time since he and Maverick were on speaking terms. He knows that even before that, they didn’t talk much about the kid he had a couple hundred miles away.

But, shit — he wishes now that he had at least seen a picture first so that he could prepare himself.

He remembers footie pajamas and drool and chubby, perpetually sticky cheeks.

Now, there’s a belt looped through her blue jeans makes sure that the denim hugs her in all of the right places and that tank top is confirming to him that she’s absolutely nothing like the faint image he has in some of his oldest memories.

There’s got to be something wrong with him — that that’s one of the first things that sprung to his mind.

That Mav’s kid got hot in the twenty years since he saw her last. He shakes it from his head. Physically. He shakes his head and finally springs into action.

“What’s the matter with it?”

For the first time in five days, it’s the first time that someone hasn’t started a conversation by asking how she holding up. It catches Avery totally unprepared, and her knowledge of cars leaves her under qualified to answer anyway.

Bradley Bradshaw takes three long strides along the stone garden path and he has reached her already.

He’s on a course right for her, and he’s big when he’s not squished into one of those photo frames in Maverick’s house. She leans back slightly, starting to brace for the impact of him hitting her.

He’s aware of his size and has learned to grow careful with it, stepping around her narrowly and heading straight for her old shitbox of a car.

“I don’t know. The steering is loose and the engine is making a weird noise.”

Bradley twists his neck and shoots an incredulous look at her, back over one of his wide shoulders.

It’s a fourteen hour drive down from the Oregon coast, on a good day, and this car ran like shit when her mother bought it twenty something years ago.

Popping the hood, Bradley finds himself thinking of something other than those snowy peaks for the first time all week. He lets out a deep breath.

Ahead of her, Avery stands confronted with Mav’s place.

The cottage she was forced to spend the occasional weekend or weeks in during the summer a couple of times through her childhood.

Most of the times that she had seen Pete was in her hometown. He was always the one who travelled. It seemed fair. His job meant that it didn’t happen often.

Avery’s memories of this house are faint, but the same uncomfortable restless feeling it gives her remains. She remember quiet days sitting on the couch with her hands in your lap, waiting for that court-mandated forty-eight hours to be up.

Natasha is facing the other way. She watches Bradley step off of the curb and pop the hood. Bradley has a technical knowledge of engineering from his career, and a slightly broader scope from his interest in vintage cars — but he’s not a mechanic.

A quick glance to her right and she takes note of the way Avery’s frowning down at the weeds poking through the stone path pavers.

Like watching a storm roll in before a big surf, Natasha has a bad feeling about this arrangement. There’s a competitive nature to the way Bradley needs to be busy — given the right permission, he’d run himself into the ground with it.

Two people who should be coming to terms with their grief, and it's clear to her that they’re both planning on ignoring this problem for as long as they can.

She stares at you, already planning on tearing up all of those weeds for the week to come.

“You can’t drive this piece of shit.” Bradley decides from the street. He stands back and plants his hands firmly on his hips, shaking his head.

Avery turns slowly on the balls of her feet and pushes her hands into the pockets of her jeans, glancing back at Natasha for a little bit of help here.

He doesn’t even look up.

Crowding over the hood of the car, glaring down at it. Thick shoulders filling out a plain black t-shirt and long legs hidden under loose fitting grey sweats. An auburn curl dangles over his forehead.

“I… Kinda have to.” Avery points out. A recent graduate with no immediate career plans, who just quit her waitressing job to pick up the pieces of her presumably dead, semi-estranged father’s life. Buying a new car isn’t exactly in the budget right now.

Bradley opens his palms and braces them against the open hood. He turns his head and looks first at Natasha. His best friend. Then, the house. He learned to ride his bike on this street. Maverick lived on this street. Finally, his attention turns to her. He watches her watch him.

Leaning against her shitty, old car like it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet. Squinting at her because he left his sunglasses in work and the doctors won’t let him go back there for another couple weeks. Natasha’s going to pick them up for him later today.

Avery’s staring back at him, wondering why he’s looking at her like that. Like he’s looking for something.

He pushes off of the car and stands, wiping his hands on his sweats. “I’ll take care of it. Whatever you need. I can drive you for a bit.”

As Bradley walks around to the back of the car and pops open the trunk to grab her bags, Natasha is struck with a numbing realization.

This really is a bad idea. She knows it’s more than him being nice, and it’s more than him owing Pete Mitchell.

Maverick put himself in an early grave trying to make up for a mistake he made when he was young, and she’s got a bad feeling that Bradley won’t stop until he does the same.

…

Tags: @ahoyyharrington @diorrfairy @just-a-harmless-potato @hangmanshoney @sgt-barnesveins @shanimallina87 @nykie-love-anime @lilyevanswhore @sammyrenae68 @moonlight-addisyn @pulisvertz @cherrycola27 @chxosunbound @tayygriffith @yuckosworld @callsign-magnolia @trickphotography2 @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @sushiwriterhere @books-for-summer @thelonelyumbrella @angelbabyange @iwontshutuptilltheyaddgeckoemoji @stillreadingfantasy @casualhilarity @s-u-t @topguncortez @sweetwhispersofchaos @aaprilshowers @shadeds-library @bradswolfe @wishingwell-2 @roostersgirlfrxend @itsmytimetoodream

[blorbo-gerrymandering]

Round 2

Baseball has sponsorships, right? If not maybe Blaseball does.

Propaganda Under The Cut

Jaylen Hotdogfingers:

The greatest came-back-wrong character ever. She's the mayor of Seattle. She's was the best pitcher in the league. She was murdered by an umpire in an act of divine retribution for the fanbase's transgression. The fanbase exploited game mechanics to bring her back to life. Immediately she murdered 12 people. She died again and got revived a second time as part of a team of undead players that killed god. She's a really awful batter. She has, like, 16 songs written about her and they're all really good. I thought about her every single day for a period of six consecutive months. I love her.

I'll be real. I'm an outsider to the Blaseball fandom. I don't understand it. I think they've crowdfunded characters from fictionalized fucked-up Baseball stats and a dream. I love seeing what the fuck they're doing in their eldritch sandbox just so much.

Simon Laurent:

I love him so much! Yay! Yippie! he got what he deserved tho

have i submitted him yet? if yes here he is again. what did you do to my French man, now he has anxiety, and maybe 50 other things. i can fix him, but it would require a lot of time travel and a complete lack of trains. as i can't do that, he instead gets his very own tumblr poll submission. one vote for train man is one dollar towards the invention of the simon-specific time machine. (your other guys cant come unless they have the same name sorry) its for a good cause

imagine: youre in the trolley situation. well an oh-so-kind tumblr user decided to give everyone who submits this character a get-out-of-a-train-free ticket! use that ticket, and you're no longer responsible for the death of someone (or you are no longer fated to die)!

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 3]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

Hongjoong, along with some other Ateez members, stood with him in the now quiet area of the abandoned building. He stepped to the side, clicking his tongue when he saw the blood splatter had gotten onto his new Oxford loafers.

"We're taking this guy with us, right?" San held up the leader, who was on the brink of death but still alive compared to his fellow gang members that have fallen.

"Yeah, keep him in the dungeon. We need him alive for interrogation." Seonghwa said, his hands going into the pockets of his coat.

"Should I get a clean up crew?" Jongho asked, his foot kicking one of the dead man's leg away so he could walk.

"Don't bother. Just torch the place." Hongjoong said, a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lips. Mingi raised his eyebrows, looking at Seonghwa, who sighed and nodded his head.

"Alright. Let's torch it." Mingi rubbed his hands excitedly.

"Let's go then." The rest walked out. San dragged the man's body with him, throwing him into the trunk of their car.

"Please..." The male coughed blood.

"We're not letting you go that easy, you're going to wish death came faster. Better rest up, you have a lot to do." San smiled and patted the man's cheek before shutting the trunk. He climbed into the car that already had Hongjoong in the passenger seat. Seonghwa rode along in Jongho's car.

BOOM!

Looking out the window, the 4 watched as the 2-storey building became engulfed in flames. Mingi emerged with a satisfied smile, climbing onto his bike.

"He always get weirdly excited about blowing things up." Hongjoong shook his head with a chuckle.

"That's Mingi for you." San laughed, beginning to drive away from the scene. Mingi sped past them on his bike, flipping them off.

"If it's a race he wants, it's a race he gets." San growled and began to speed. Jongho seemed to get the memo too because he was revving to catch up and overtake them.

"Ah, you guys are crazy. Seonghwa's gonna get motion sick." Hongjoong said, knowing his best friend well.

"Well, if he pukes, at least it's not my car." San shrugged.

"You guys already race on a regular basis. Do you really have to race right now?" Hongjoong asked. Of course he was joking, he didn't care that the boys wanted to race now. Everyone in Ateez was very competitive, no matter what the subject was.

"Nice!" Hongjoong hi fived San when he pulled up a split second before Jongho. Mingi had already reached way before them, there was no beating him on a motorbike.

"I hate you all!" Seonghwa yelled as he fell out of the passenger seat. Hongjoong laughed and took a video of him on the ground.

"San, unload the cargo." Hongjoong instructed, referring to the guy in the trunk.

"Yes, hyung." San drove the car down to the basement while Hongjoong went to help Seonghwa up and they walked in through the front door.

"Hyung, you're back! I need help." Wooyoung ran over excitedly.

"What is it?" Hongjoong looked at him quizically, sitting down on the couch and Wooyoung took the adjacent armchair.

"Paint swatches for the new casino. I need your artistic eye." Wooyoung poured out all the paint swatches. In the middle, he placed the colour scheme of the intended decor and vibes. Wooyoung and San were the ones that managed the casino businesses that belonged to Ateez.

"It's hard to tell from just the pictures, can we not do this on site? I have time until my next meeting, we can go now." Hongjoong asked the younger.

"O-Oh! Okay, sure. Let me change and I'll meet you in the basement." Wooyoung ran upstairs.

"Get me a coffee in a mug." Hongjoong said to one of the maids.

"Yes, sir." She bowed and ran to the kitchen. Hongjoong slumped back into the couch. He looked at his hand, he could remove the bandages today. Maybe he'll do it when he gets home.

"Sir." A butler handed Hongjoong a to-go mug of coffee. Hongjoong took it and headed down to the basement.

"I'm here, hyung." Wooyoung jogged over, dressed in a black shirt with the first two buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, and dress pants.

One thing Hongjoong appreciated, as someone who values fashion, is that all the Ateez members dressed up well too. They also liked to dress up and look good, no matter where they were going. Yes, they mainly wore suits but they were all different.

"How's the hand?" Wooyoung asked as he drove.

"It's fine, I'll remove the bandages when I come back. We've all been injured before, this is minor considered to the gunshots that we've dealt with." Hongjoong said.

"I know... But you know this is under different circumstances, hyung." Wooyoung said boldly.

"Just because my mother died, it doesn't mean I'm fragile now. I'm not as torn up about it as you all think." He replied.

"Did you tell your construction crew that we are dropping by? There's no point going in if they are going to board up the place." Hongjoong changed the subject.

"Yeah, I sent the contractors a message that we'll be stopping by." Wooyoung hummed.

When Wooyoung pulled up, they saw the contractors there, already waiting for him and Hongjoong. The smell of the construction site irked Hongjoong slightly but he didn't express it, merely taking a sip of his coffee. There were some words exchanged between the contractors and Wooyoung.

"Hyung, this way." Wooyoung nodded towards the entrance of the building. Hongjoong looked around the place as they walked in, the place was coming together nicely.

"Get me one of the arm chairs." Wooyoung ordered.

"Yes, boss." The men went away.

"The furniture arrived earlier than expected so they've just been put aside until the finishing touches are done and the place is painted." Wooyoung informed.

"It's looking nice, Wooyoung. Once the paint is up, it'll come together very well." Hongjoong said in approval.

Even if the members updated each other on their projects, Hongjoong respected them and never interjected unless asked.

"Boss." The contractors placed one of the armchairs that will be used by the big wall. Another one of the workers brought in a standing light since the light fixtures were not working yet.

"Leave us." Wooyoung waved them off. They bowed and walked away. With some painter's tape, Wooyoung taped the paint swatches to the wall above the armchair so he and Hongjoong could look at it properly and visualise it.

"I do like the classic burgundy but painting the walls that shade might seem too tacky or old fashioned." Hongjoong said.

"San and I agree. That's why we're exploring dark shades of blue. It wouldn't feel too stuffy like if we were to go with a red shade. It'll make it feel cooler." Wooyoung nodded.

"Hmm... I like Prussian blue but it is too dark. What if we go lighter?" Hongjoong advised.

"What about this?" Wooyoung held up the book to the wall since he didn't take that many swatches.

"Nice. Come see." Hongjoong swapped placed with Wooyoung, holding up the book for him to step back and see. Wooyoung nodded in approval and took a picture.

"I'll show it to Sannie then we'll get to painting." Wooyoung said.

"Good, I can't wait to see it come together." Hongjoong smiled, patting Wooyoung's shoulder. After they were done, and Wooyoung was able to give some instructions to the contractors, the two of them headed back home. Hongjoong still had work to do and paperwork to go over.

Besides the underground businesses, there were legitimate businesses that Ateez ran as well. That's how they were able to build their reputation in the business world.

"I put the newest contracts on your desk, hyung." Yunho said as he jogged past Hongjoong.

"Thanks, Yunho." Hongjoong nodded and headed to his office.

"Ah, finally." He sunked into his plush chair. Sitting up, Hongjoong began to unwrap the bandage that you had put around his injured hand. Honestly, it was looking a lot better than before.

"Where is..." Looking around the place, he tried to find the tub of salve that you gave him.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Come in." Hongjoong threw the small tub into his drawer. The butler entered Hongjoong's office with a bow, informing him that he had some visitors come.

"What visitor?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow with suspicion and caution. He stood up, grabbing his blazer on the way out the door. He wore it and buttoned it as he approached the staircase and went downstairs to the living room area.

"What's going on here?" He asked when he saw Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho, guns drawn to the three men that stood there.

"Hongjoong sshi. Could you tell your men to keep their weapons?" The man smiled eerily.

"They can do as they like. What's your purpose here? We gave you mercy by letting you go despite having stolen from us. Did you not appreciate that?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow.

"O-Of course we do. We're merely here to offer our condolences. We heard what happened to your mother." The man stuttered slightly.

"Just let me shut him up permenantly, hyung." Jongho growled. Hongjoong held a hand up.

Hongjoong remembers that day well, they left most of this clan's men dead, only a handful that were barely hanging by a thread. Death was always an easy way out.

"We all know you're not here to offer condolences. Cut to that chase, what do you want?" Hongjoong smirked, crossing his arms.

"I'm here to make amends to Ateez. There's a rumour that the smaller gangs are forming together to take over your territories. They think you're going to be down with your mother's death so they're aiming to strike your territory first." The leader said, his face changing to one of confidence and pride.

"That's all? Do you really not think that we face threats to our territory everyday?" Hongjoong scoffed and the other Ateez members present laughed too.

"For wasting our time, I suggest we take compensation." Seonghwa tilted his head. The 3 men took a step back.

"Good idea, hyung." Yeosang smiled.

"That's true. I don't like people wasting my time AND I don't like people showing up unannounced, especially here." Hongjoong nodded in agreement.

"So that should be two compensations but maybe we only take one? Are we feeling nice today?" Jongho turned to the others.

"Hmm, whatever you guys want." Hongjoong shrugged, turning away to head back up the stairs.

"You'll regret this, Kim Hongjoong!" He heard the leader yell as he ran away with one of his men, leaving the other to be taken by the 3 Ateez members.

Everyone called Ateez the devils, with Hongjoong being the worst amongst all of them. But that's the only way to wield power, to strike fear in people. Everything they do serves as a lesson to others. In the underground world, it's kill or be killed.

"Aww, I missed out on the fun." Mingi said, looking over everything from the second floor banister.

"Don't worry, I have a feeling there will be more where that came from." Hongjoong chuckled and Mingi smirked at that.

"I need a coffee." He went back to his office, going to the coffee maker to make a triple shot espresso. Hongjoong could already feel a major migraine coming on.

Sitting back down, he retrieved the salve you made and haphazardly put them over his healing cuts.

"Hmm..." There was a slight cooling feeling but nothing else.

"Hyung? I'm ba- What's that smell?" Yunho sniffed the slightly herbal smell in the air. Hongjoong cleared his throat and sat up, putting the salve jar away.

"Just something to help with my injury." Hongjoong said awkwardly. Yunho raised an eyebrow.

"You went to see that girl... didn't you? The one that went to your mother's funeral. I know that she's a florist but she knows botany as well. That's the only place you would get herbal medicine." Yunho teased Hongjoong with a knowing smile. Hongjoong glared at the taller male.

"She's a business owner in my territory. Of course I would go visit her, I always visit the businesses from time to time." Hongjoong said through gritted teeth.

"Sure~" Yunho sang. He reached over to pick up the jar that Hongjoong failed to hide under his papers.

"Is this good? Can I try?" He asked.

"Give me that! No, you can't try it." Hongjoong snatched the jar back with a hiss, throwing it back into his drawer. Yunho snickered at the captain's almost flustered behaviour.

"Yunho, I'm busy. What is it you came here for?" Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I'll let you change the subject for now. But yes, I went to discuss the logistics for our upcoming gala." Yunho said.

"Okay. Show me." Hongjoong leaned forward as Yunho placed his laptop on the desk. He pulled up some documents showing Hongjoong his notes, the bill, pictures, everything related to the upcoming gala that they're hosting.

"This is good. Present all this to the rest at our next group meeting, I want them to weigh in on it and see what they think before you go forward with the plans." Hongjoong said.

"Okay. I'll chase the other suppliers for more accurate quotations." Yunho nodded, closing the laptop.

"So, hyung. About the girl..." Yunho raised his eyebrows.

"What? There's nothing about her." Hongjoong replied a little too quickly with a small frown, showing his discomfort about this subject. Yunho bit back his snicker.

"She really knew your mom?" Yunho asked. Hongjoong stiffened at the mention of his mother.

"Yes, no... Well, I don't know." Hongjoong sighed.

"She says she knows my mother but when she speaks about her, it is like we're talking about entirely different people. The person she knew wasn't the mother I knew." He explained.

"That's confusing... And frustrating." Yunho hummed with a nod of his head. Hongjoong let out a grunt of agreement. Yes, his mother was dead but why was he so bothered by this random girl that knew his mother too? Deep down, he knew that she can't change his perception of his mother but it intrigued him.

"Don't think too much about it. The others don't need to know about any of this." Hongjoong shot Yunho a look.

"My lips are sealed." Yunho did the action of zipping his lips.

"If that's all, I need to go for my tailor appointment." Hongjoong checked the time and stood up, turning his computer off. Yunho nodded and walked out with him.

"Don't you usually get our tailor to come to the house to do everything?" Yunho asked.

"Yes but I have a meeting nearby and I wanted to try doing it in the shop this time. Go out for some fresh air too." Hongjoong shrugged.

"Have fun, hyung. Good luck." Yunho wished. Hongjoong waved and headed downstairs to his car. It felt good to drive his own car again, even if it had only been a few days.

"Hey, Seonghwa. I'm going to meet with the new weapons dealer right now to see what he's all about then stop by the tailor for get a new suit done for the gala. Can you take care of the interrogation for me? You can take one of the boys with you." Hongjoong requested.

"You're going to meet a stranger that we've never met before and you didn't take back up?"

"It's fine. I can manage it. Plus, we're meeting in a public place. I highly doubt he'll try anything. But is that a yes on the interrogation?" Hongjoong asked.

"Can I ask Jongho to do it? I have a race tonight, it's a big one."

"Sure, please make sure that he knows what information we're trying to extract." Hongjoong hummed.

"Of course. I'll also make sure that he stops the others from getting too carried away with the torture. The last prisoner died before we got anything good out of him."

"Exactly, that's why I wanted you to do it. You're more objective but I trust Jongho to do it too." He explained.

"I understand. I would say I trust Jongho to get what we need too. Plus, he has the strength to stop the others if they go overboard when trying to get answers. And back to the main issue, why are you going for a meet up without any backup? Should I send some men your way to guard the area?"

"No need, I'm fine. I can handle it myself. Have a good race tonight." Hongjoong wished.

"Thanks, stay safe. If you need backup, alert us."

"I will." Hongjoong promised and hung up. He didn't know what he would do without Seonghwa. They've known each other the longest and started Ateez together, Hongjoong knew he could count on him.

-

"That should be everything. Thanks again for doing this so last minute." The couple said, closing the trunk of their van.

"No worries. Have a good one." You smiled and bowed as they entered and drove off. The moment the van was out of sight, you let out a long sigh of exhaustion. This couple had changed their order last minute and you tried your best to accomodate them.

"At least they compensated." Was what you told yourself before heading back to the shop. It was closing time soon, you usually would have one or two customers at night.

"What a mess..." You sighed. Today was hectic, while rushing orders, you had no time to clean up and just left the mess.

"Good evening, are you open?" You heard a customer come through the door.

"Yes. How can I help you?" You wiped your hands on your apron. You helped the customer get what he needed. Thankfully he was content with choosing one of your premade bouquets.

"Do you prepare all these bouquets yourself?" He asked as you swiped his card for payment.

"Yes, I do." You giggled, handing him back his card.

"They're all very nice. Thanks, have a nice evening." He complimented. You smiled gratefully, walking him to the door and opening it for him to leave.

After that, you began to clear the area, composting the discarded plant parts before you could grab a broom to clean up the small bits and pieces. There was ribbon, tissue paper and wiring scattered everywhere. You kept all the spare materials in the trolley that you usually wheeled around.

"Now I'm hungry." You groaned. There was still two more hours until you had to close so you couldn't eat yet. You tried to pass time by answering to some customers enquires and order confirmations.

"Finally! Closing time." You threw your arms up in the air. You went to turn the 'CLOSED' sign and gathered all the trash to dispose of.

"Ugh..." As you were out back, you heard someone groan.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there?" You called out as you took a wary step back. The back alley was very dimly lit and you were not about to take any chances.

"W-Who is there?" Fumbling for your phone, you turned the flashlight on and saw a leg sticking out from where the recycled boxes were.

"Excuse me. Are you oka-" Your eyes widened as you took in the sight in front of you.

"Hongjoong sshi?!"

~

Series masterlist

[mikuni14]

15 Day BL Challenge - Day 4

Day 4: Fave Ship Dynamic

Since I can't choose one favorite dynamic, I'll allow myself to write a few:

EQUALITY in a relationship will always be my top priority, which I understand as a situation where no one is exploited, or led like a child in the relationship, or dominated, even if one of them is naturally dominant. To make it more complicated, I actually like relationships in which one is clearly more dominant, for example stronger physically, or in the hierarchy, is richer, has power, BUT NOT OVER THEIR LOVED ONE, is actually even dependent on him. The point is that both have the same power over each other, are equally dependent on each other, both support each other to the best of their abilities, no one gives more or less. It is ideal when the seamingly "weaker" one has even a slight advantage in the relationship, to make it more fair. A good example of this relationship is Hannibal or Nagron 😋 There are many BL series with equal characters, most of them will appear below (but I'll start with a gif of these guys, equal in everything, and that widening of Zhou Zi Shu's eyes at the sight of Wen Ke Xing is one of the best things in BLs I've ever seen 💖)

most often, equality in a relationship goes hand in hand with my second favorite dynamic: when both are mature. I LOVE it when a couple is made up of adults, mature people who know who they are, know that they are interested in each other and the only obstacles in their relationship are external. From BL series, these are: Laws of Attraction, Manner of Death, Jun & Jun (excellent examples 10/10) as well as The Untamed, Word of Honor, KinnPorsche, 4 Minutes, Our Dating Sim, To Sir, With Love. This equality and maturity can just as well appear in series with young characters as in The On1y One

my other favorite dynamic also goes hand in hand with equality: when both are smart, they are professionals in what they do, like in The Sign, Laws of Attraction, The On1y One, Be Loved In House: I Do, Jun & Jun (see the gif above) and of course The Untamed and Word of Honor (I can't help but mention Beyond Evil, The Devil Judge, Killer and Healer, not BLs we all know better 😎)

when both are good at communication, I love it when characters TALK to each other, even when they argue, as long as they COMMUNICATE

the best and the rarest: when they trust each other and believe in each other, that the other person will handle the truth, the problems, that they will help, that TOGETHER THEY WILL DEAL with whatever life throws at them, when they talk about what's going on in their lives including the bad stuff, no noble sacrifice and keeping the loved one in the dark "for their own good". It's very possible that in all the BLs I've watched there was a couple who was honest with each other from the beginning until the end, but I can't remember one now... (Beyond Evil, Love in Translation started doing it by the end)

but I also like it when someone in the couple is unhinged, crazy, like Sahashi in Cosmetic Playlover, or a himbo like Sprite in Twins, or a golden retriever type but a real one like in Sing My Crush, especially when the other one is a bit grumpy and gloomy, like in those series, I love it!

I also like calm, stoic, solid types, at the same time totally whipped for their loved ones 🥰 such as the characters played by Noh in Nitiman and Oh! My Sunshine Night. Special mention should be made of someone similar to this type, but also noble and old-fashioned in a charming way, like San from Century of Love, and the guys from To Sir, With Love

[cloudyskydreams]

Yooo I really like that pregnancy ask and I wanted to suggest a what if! Pure angst and drama if you're up to it.

What if the pregnancy didn't go well near the end because S/O's magic is not very high (to begin with! monsters need both parents iirc to have a health about of magic to make a monster.) A couple of days after the baby bone is born, child protective services (the Canadian version of it.) have to take them to their father stating that the mother is in a coma and is unlikely to recover.

((What a way to start the day. Getting a knock on the door only to find a stranger hold a baby that they were so sure it wasn't theirs. AND their s/o is probably going to die because their SOUL magic was sucked up dry to make the baby. Said baby bones looks a bit unhealthy too because they developed without their pappa's magic and is weakly crying.))

((You can decide of s/o recovers or not.))

hhhhhh you guys need to be movie directors or something because the pure plot and drama being thrown at me recently.

S/O recovers because I like that route better having a free reign relationship with your child only to have the possibility of that taken away when your comatosed ex wakes up.

Holy fuck these turned out longer than I expected so I'm just doing 3 if you wanted a different character feel free to request again! Also the holidays are NOT being kind to me so my updates are probably gonna be wack as I deal with the shitshow I call a family hope you guys enjoy and happy holidays!

Undertale:

Sans: Sees the baby bones and kind of zones out as shock runs through his body. Then he hears the word coma and zones back in. "what?" he has them repeat their entire spiel and his soul stops for a second when he hears what happened. He hesitantly accepts the babybones and cradles him to his chest gently.He's not ready for any of this and his world is collapsing around him as he finishes the conversation with CPS. Once they're gone he takes the babybones inside and simply stares at him for a bit as he rocks him back in forth Infront of the door he hasn't moved two steps from. The baby is whining and looking at him is like looking at an exact replica of himself as a babybones. He takes a few deep breaths and chuckles which turn into a full body laugh which turn into sobs as he cradles the baby to his chest. Why didnt he trust you? He still loved you even though he was convinced you had cheated a part of him desperately hoping he was wrong but now that he knows he was it's devastating. He looks for monster food that would be suitable for a babybones hoping to soothe his cry's and get his bones looking healthier. The entire time he's shaking as he rummages through the cabinets. Finds something akin to applesauce and spoonfeeds the little guy. Goes out and picks up a bunch of stuff (good, toys,clothes ect.)when Papyrus gets home. The first night he can't sleep and simply stays awake watching the babybones all night. He vows he's going to be the best dad ever while staring at his baby boys sleeping face a rush of paternal protectiveness rushing over him. He does a good job at taking care of the baby as he has experience since he had to basically raise Papyrus. He visits you once and the guilt destroys him so badly he can't visit you again. It had been a few months when he received a call. Surprise surprise it's you on the other end having just woken up and wanting to see your child immediately. Sans is more than happy to comply and gets to the hospital as soon as he can with the baby who's looking much healthier. Hesitates outside the doorway as he cradles your guys son to his chest. Possibilities and what ifs running through his head as anxiety starts to simmer. When he enters the room you look so relieved and happy to see him which happily surprises him till he realizes you're probably excited to see your baby. He hands the child over and suddenly your crying, the baby's crying, he's crying, all of y'all crying. He apologizes profusely before you can say anything and says he should have believed you how wrong he was and how sorry he is you had to go through everything alone and his grateful he is to see you again. He understands if you don't forgive him but don't expect to be rid of him because he's absolutely sticking around in his son's life.

Edge:Honestly when he sees the child and hears what CPS has to say he thinks he's having a nightmare. He's dreamt of similar situations where your baby actually turned out to be his nothing quiet like this but it's similar enough he's really thinking he's still asleep. Takes the child and thanks the CPS people for their time before going back inside. Trys to soothe the baby's cry's and rocks him gently in his arms. Checks the clock to make sure he has enough time to get to his next appointment in the day and yeah he's got a good bit, wait.... you can't read time in your dreams. He looks back at the clock and gently sets the baby down on the couch as he does the equivalent of pinching himself. Fuck fuck wait he's not dreaming. A flood of cold numbers rushes over him as he remembers what CPS said... He gently scoops the baby back up and shelves his oncoming mental breakdown as he stares down at his son. When Red gets home Edge recruits him as a babysitter (his thought process being he raised me he can watch a baby for an hour or so (red was absolutely stressed tf out))as he runs out to grab supplies and sort himself out. By sort himself out I mean destroying a chunk of a forest with his magic to workout all his anger and devastation. He trys his best to take care of the babybones his brother surprisingly giving good advice every now and then while he figures out how to be a dad. He's extremely gentle with the child and speaks on the most soothing fatherly tone to the little baby. He visits you in the hospitals bi weekly leaving little messages of memorable moments with the baby and some pictures. A few months goes by and one day he receives a call. It's a very frantic you on the other end and he can't help the immense amount of relief he feels as he hears your voice begging him to see your child. He brings the babybones to the hospital and stays quiet as he watches you two cuddling. He doesn't speak up until you thank him for watching the babybones. Tells you there's nothing to thank him for he was doing his job as a father and then it's quiet for a bit more before he hesitantly approaches and bows his head. He apologizes for his actions, for not trusting you, for everything you had to deal with alone. He's not expecting you to forgive him he wouldn't forgive himself but he does want to be apart of the child's life and immediately says so making sure you're aware of his intentions. Most likely to take you to court for custody of you refuse to let him father his child.

Stretch:Was woken up by the knock and answered the door still half asleep. Hears the story, takes the kid, thanks them and closes the door. It takes him like five whole minutes until he's like wait what the fuck. Holds the baby Infront of him by the armpits and looks at his mini lookalike with horror. Holy fucking shit he was wrong? He's a dad?? YOU'RE IN A COMA?? He gets lightheaded for a second and sits down on the couch with the crying baby in his arms. He hesitantly rocks the babybones not really sure what he's doing and immediately calls Blue. He's shaking as he's on the phone with his brother who says he's on the way. When Blue gets there he shows Stretch which foods the baby can eat and how to care for it. Stretch appreciates the help and kind of throws himself into caring for the child instead of thinking about the fact you're in a coma. He's sleeping on a beanbag chair in the nursery and wakes up as soon as the baby starts crying. Every waking moment is spent caring and playing with the babybones. Sometimes late at night he thinks about you and everything he's lost and missed out on but you've given him the best gift he could have ever asked for, a son. He visits you in the hospital occasionally leaving your favorite flower and pictures of the baby he's taken. Surprise surprise a month later when he gets a call and you're alive desperate to see you're baby. He brings the child and is grateful to see you awake when he hands him over. He immediately apologizes he tells you how wonderful his son is and how much he loves him and begs you to let him be apart of the child's life. He understands if you don't want him back as much as he misses you he fucked up he wasn't there and you almost died because he wasn't. He just loves his kid man he will be there for him and you if you let him.

[elizais]

hello! i really enjoy your teen pm dazai stuff so can you please do a pm!teen!dazai first kiss with reader? i love the one where you wrote about meeting pm dazai

of course!!!

pm!dazai x fem!reader first kiss as teens in the PM, reader is the same age as dazai fluff fluff fluff

it all started when osamu found out about chuuya having a mission at a party. since you three were all 16, he would be at a party with other kids around your age. and when chuuya told him he was probably going to be kissing a girl before dazai, he just couldn't have that.

"i mean, dazai, i get to just meet a girl and instantly get a kiss! do you?" was one of the things the ginger said. this was their humour so he knew not to take it to heart, but, he was with a pretty girl every day. you.

although chuuya was only teasing, that couldn't be a milestone he gets to before osamu! so, naturally as a teen boy having a crush on a girl.. he came to you to complain.

the bandaged boy was lying on the couch in whoever's office you were hanging out in today. you were playing games on your laptop before he started on whatever frustrated him today.

" uhhh [name]?" he asked, sounding a little less confident than he usually does. you decided to only reply with a "mhm?" rather than ask what was wrong.

"did you know that shorty is going to a party for a mission?" annoyance clear in his voice. you groaned as the familiar losing noise came out from the game before replying to dazai. "yeah, nothing too interesting i think. it's with those annoying rich kids, there are a couple of nice ones though."

dazai carried on whining, knowing you won't shut him down. he always admired how you were there for him - even if you only saw him as a friend. or so he thought.

slowly shutting your laptop that mori gave 'strictly for work', you walked over to sit on the arm rest by his feet. leaning back on the sofa, you sighed. "he's probably having soooo much fun." osamu carried on.

"osamu,, what is really up?" you turned your head to see him slowly sitting up straighter. " i don't know! i just hate that hatrack so much why does he get to go to a party and i don't? like it's soo unfair! and mori-san should have definitely let me go like what the hell-" he began ranting.

you stood up and faced him while he sat. "that's not it, osa. what is it? you wouldn't be actually upset over this. if you were you would be with oda and ango drinking over it."

he sighed, praying his face isn't becoming red as he stood up too, so he can face you more comfortably. "he was just teasing me about getting to kiss a really pretty girl and.." he said nervously, very out of character for him. "and i don't get to kiss my pretty girl." he slipped out ever so quietly.

and you could only smile before grabbing his chin and using your thumb to reassure him. it was both of yours first kiss despite your big age. and you just pulled his face closer before the gap was closed.

it only lasted for maybe a second before you pulled away out of pure shock. a mafioso stumbling over her words with red cheeks and full of giggles. "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. osamu i'm so sorry i jus-" you quickly blurted out as he stopped you before pressing another kiss to your lips with a smile.

the both of you burst out laughing. shock, love, happiness.. all of the happy emotions filled you. was it the best kiss? no. was it your best kiss? yes.

[newworldwritings]

If Only (preview)

paring: San x chubby!reader

genre/warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, second chance, time travel/new universe (1950s), mentions of car accidents, female reader, featuring all of ateez (greaser ateez), featuring some of the nct & stray kids boys, smoking, motorcycles, fuckboy activities, lowercase intended, insecurities, body shaming, we hate hyerin, san being oblivious in flashbacks, yunho being an absolute golden retriever, wooyoung is a bit of an ass (sorry, don’t worry tho he gets a character development) will mainly be in sans pov but will switch from other perspectives, any bold & italic words are what the characters are actually thinking

word count: 1k+

pls reblog!

taglist: open! just comment to be added!

a/n: I had a dream of this (not with the members) & I wanted to write it out, also got a bit inspired by “Marry My Husband” but it’s a completely different plot.

preview:

“san i can’t be letting you back in every time things go sideways with her, i'm done being the second choice.”

“i’m done. goodbye san.”

those were the last words L/N Y/N had told me after i chased after her out of the school, and being the idiot i was i just stood there watching her walk away from me towards yunho, one of my best mates. since when did they become close? but those were the last of my worries. i had just lost my childhood best friend because i was too blinded to show this school i was the best at everything by going after the most sought out girl of the school hyerin. when i should’ve gone for y/n. she always stood by my side, never once showed me disloyalty, and always picked me up anytime hyerin shooed me off for her other boy toys. she never once judged me for my ways and i took her kindness and love for granted.

now im left here alone with no hyerin in sight, probably making out with jaehyun, and my mates are probably having the time of their life’s at the dance with no clue that i had lost y/n.

while watching her enter yunho's car my mind was yelling at me to go after her. but i couldn’t, i had been selfish for too long. i knew she needed me to let her go so she could move on.

but that also meant i had to move on but how could i move on with life when i had lost the best thing that i could ever have in life.

watching yunho's car pull out the parking lot, i decided that one last time i wanted to be selfish. so i chased after the car. not noticing how i ended up on the main road, not noticing how a car was coming towards me until it hit me.

i flew back and laid on the road while looking at the night sky, i wanted to scream at the universe for doing this to me. when in reality i should’ve been yelling at myself for being stupid, and oblivious.

the pain from the impact of the car started invading my whole body. it hurts. everything. mentally and physically.

i closed my eyes hoping someone or something would come and take this pain away from me. not just from the impact but from my heart as well.

i heard sirens and people rushing towards me, but i also heard someone saying my name over and over again. but i couldn’t open my eyes. until someone shook my body forcefully.

then i got up like i had just woken up from a nap. looking around trying to find out who was shaking me rather than helping me. then i noticed i wasn’t on the road, it wasn’t night time, and there was no car.

rather i was on a field under a tree next to a building that looked like our university. what the fuck.

“san!”

i looked forward to the person in front of me calling me.

“y/n?” but this was not my y/n i could tell from the very different clothes she was wearing and her hairstyle was completely different. it seemed like a hairstyle that would be done in the 1950s.

“come on, we’re gonna be late!” she pulled me up and started fixing my leather jacket. wait when was i wearing this. where am i?!

while I was lost in my thoughts i heard a group of people calling me towards the entrance of the school. wait is that?

“come on san we don’t want to get yelled at by Ms. Lisa again hurry up!” hongjoong?

it was all my friends, but it wasn’t at the same time? since when did we all start wearing matching leather jackets? but before i can question anyone y/n pulled me towards them.

“lover boy is gonna miss his chance to talk to hyerin before class.” i turned too wooyoung, who was snickering, but i was too focused on his appearance. he didn’t have his oreo hair as he liked to call it, his hair was all black with an undercut. when did he have time to do that? before i could turn to y/n to ask her what’s going on i was being pushed towards the door, following the rest of the boys, while i had time to look around the area i looked at the backs of my mates and some of there side profiles. they all had their hairs gelled back, even jongho who preferred the boyfriend style. what stood out to me the most was the leather jackets we were all wearing had ‘ATEEZ’ in big white letters with 3 motorcycles below it. they all look like they had just came out a greaser movie with this style they all had. wait… y/ns style of clothing along with my mates. am i in a different timeline..? no that can’t be.

to further prove my theory, i turned to y/n.

“y/n, what’s the date?” she looked at me weirdly.

“it’s march 29?” she said as if it was the most obvious answer. “no, what year are we in?”

“san are you ok? did you hit your head? you’re acting really weird”

“who’s acting weird?” wooyoung turned around to look at us. “san, he’s asking what year we’re in.”

wooyoung only chuckled, “he's probably just nervous because hyerin is going out with him this weekend, san it’s 1955 you bimbo. now loosen up don’t want to scare hyerin off.”

i stopped in my place. “it’s 1955!?” everyone turned to me. “aye san you sure you good?” i turned to yunho with a look that screams ‘do i look good to you?’

“oooookaayy, i’m gonna take this one to Lee before class, we will catch up to you guys later.” y/n waved to everyone while pushing me towards a different door.

what the actual fuck is going on.