#Temporary Redirect

[seohabibi]

This comprehensive guide offers insights into the importance of website redirections in search engine optimization (SEO). It explores various types of redirects, such as 301, 302, and 307, and provides a clear understanding of when and how to use them effectively.

[thoughts-from-a-monster]

It's interesting to me that I scheduled literally nothing for today due to weather and still feel like I have to be productive. My reason being using a planner and actually planning/allowing myself leisure days to do nothing/work on personal projects is surprisingly just as much of an adjustment as planning days designated to important things that need to be done! The adjustment currently is getting myself to relax, and I want to continue playing Sonic Frontiers, but I caught myself with guilt over that not being productive...even though I planned ahead to do just that!

[honeytonedhottie]

how to embrace being alone⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✍🏽🎀

learning to be alone is such a crucial thing to learn at all times during your life, but especially during your youth. and something to understand is that sometimes, protecting your peace comes at the cost of being alone but being alone is peaceful! and not as bad as you might think that it is.

being alone offers an opportunity for self discovery and growth and rest and relaxation and reflection and the list goes ON. being able to enjoy your own company is a SUPER power bcuz it genuinely nourishes you so much.

ENJOYING UR OWN COMPANY ;

you dont have to be codependent on someone else to make yourself happy or to make yourself feel good. what fulfills you and nourishes you isnt the relationships that u have with others. although that is an amazing and fulfilling thing, the most fulfilling thing is learning yourself. being alone REPLENISHES you, its like, hydration for the soul.

dont wait on someone else to do something that you wanna do!! if u dont have anyone to go with, just go on your own. you dont have to wait on others to be happy…💬🎀

PRACTICE BEING ALONE ;

go on solo dates, practice planning to do something fun and just doing it by yourself. once you start doing things alone and you see how nice it feels, you'll want to do it more bcuz its so easy to enjoy your own company, you just have to get over your fear of judgement or of being alone and learn to enjoy and embrace it.

♡ have a spa day

♡ learn to cook a new dish

♡ read a book

♡ have a journalling session

♡ schedule appointments for urself

♡ go on a long drive

SOME BENEFITS OF ENJOYING UR OWN COMPANY ;

♡ u can be urself without filter

♡ less distractions and u give urself time to ponder and look internally

♡ ur in control of ur space and time

♡ u can be creative and imaginative without reference

♡ its peaceful

BEING UR OWN BESTFRIEND ;

treat yourself how you'd treat someone that you valued a lot. be compassionate and understanding and respectful. dont talk badly about yourself and dont be mean to/punish yourself bcuz u wouldn't do that to someone that u loved and cherished…💬🎀

dont abandon yourself in times where life can become stressful. focus on being present and dont forget your worth. your self worth and value doesn’t come from how useful you are to others, your valuable simply because you are you. a human being who is deserving of love. your worth doesnt come from how productive you are or what you’ve achieved, instead your worth is already done and your valuable because of your existence. 

COPING WITHOUT FRIENDS ;

everything is temporary and meaningful relationships will always find their way to you. just understand that some ppl are here temporarily and some ppl are here for a lifetime but only you are here for all of it which is why its important to be alone and be comfy with that.

not everyone is gonna like you or wanna be your friend and thats okay. it has nothing to do with you and is almost always simply because of different personalities and its not personal

brush off rejections bcuz rejection is just redirection. when you dont take everything personally you'll notice how much happier you'll be overall.

know that the meaningful relationships and connections that u crave will come!! no one is here to be alone forever so you'll meet the people who pour into you and you'll meet ppl that u can pour into and you'll be okay!!

overall, enjoying your own company does wonders for your mental and physical health and its a useful skill to learn in general because it brings so much peace from being able to sit with your thoughts…💬🎀

[woso-dreamzzz]

Teenage Dirtbag

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: Ingrid just doesn't understand you

Mapi had never met you before.

She's met the rest of the Engen family. She's met the family pets. But you'd never been around she visited with Ingrid, like your family had put you as far away as possible when she met them.

Like you were something to be ashamed of.

It's a bit of a bad first impression to make when you're shipped from your boarding school, back home and then straight over to Spain to live with her and Ingrid.

She doesn't even get to introduce herself before Ingrid's laying into you.

"Again?" She demands as soon as you're safely in the back seat of the car," Expelled...again?"

"It's not a big deal," You mutter, slouching in your seat and pulling your hood over your head.

"Not a big deal...Not a big deal?! You've been kicked out of school! You've been kicked out of the house! Oh, but it's not a big deal?!"

Mapi's never seen Ingrid so angry before but you're taking it like a champ, looking out the window and generally ignoring your sister even as she snaps at you.

"Are you done?" You ask in the most bored tone you can manage.

Ingrid takes a breath. "Ye-" She catches sight of you in the rear view mirror and whips around to face you. "Is that a hickey?!"

"Do we have to do this?" You groan," You ask me if I've got a hickey. I give you an answer you don't like. You yell. Can we just skip to the bit after you scold me?"

Ingrid's practically bubbling in rage sitting in the passenger seat and Mapi's left scrambling trying to diffuse the tension.

"So..." She says eventually," You like football?" It's a weak redirection but it gets an amused scoff out of Ingrid as she rolls her eyes.

"I'm not into exercising willingly," Is your answer," It's alright from a distance. Even better when a girl's doing it."

Ingrid groans louder now and swats at your knees but it's teasing and it's like all of her anger from earlier has melted away. "Don't," She says warningly though a hint of amusement is still present in her voice," There'll be none of that here. You're here to focus and to study and to better your grades."

You send her a lopsided smile. "How am I supposed to improve perfection?"

It's that evening after you've retreated to your room that Ingrid is left in a slump over your grades and your truancy records.

"I don't get it," She says to Mapi," She misses almost every class but she has perfect marks. It's like she doesn't even have to try."

Mapi shrugs. "Maybe she doesn't," Is her response," Some people just get school better than others. To be honest, if it's this easy then that's probably why she never turns up."

"And the hickies?"

"She's hormonal?" Mapi doesn't really have an answer to that as she's handed your transcript.

"And this?"

Ingrid slides Mapi a picture. It's of one of this out buildings that every school has that they swear is temporary but never go unused.

"That's..."

Mapi stares at the side of the building. She stares at the colours on the wall, at the way they weave expertly in and out of each other. She stares at the shading and the light.

"I know," Ingrid says, her face all scrunched up and Mapi gets the idea that they're not on the same page.

"It's brilliant."

"It's disrespectful."

They both spoke at the same time. They exchange a confused look with each other before turning their gazes back to study the picture.

It's clearly spray paint, the mural that you've done on the side of one of your school buildings. Usually, Mapi would see tags on railway lines out of spray paint. But, somehow, your mural is hyper realistic (Mapi would even go so far as to say photorealistic).

It's...Well Mapi doesn't quite have the words to explain it.

"I'd love to see what she could do with a pencil."

"Mapi!" Ingrid hisses," Don't encourage her!"

"No, no," Mapi backtracks quickly," I get it, totally. She shouldn't have done it there. It's wrong and it's bad but Ingrid! Look at it! People dream of having talent like that!"

For the entire night and the coming days after, Mapi thinks about the mural you did it on your school.

She ends up asking Ingrid for your Instagram during the lunch break at training. Ingrid gives it to her with a confused look.

"If you're going to use it to try and work out where this behaviour is coming from, it's useless," Ingrid says with a defeated sigh," I've already gone through it all."

That wasn't what Mapi was planning to do at all so she just offers Ingrid a little smile and a promise to see what she could find. To her disappointment, no more of your artwork has been posted on your main account.

She scrolls through your following list, all the way to the bottom, to find an account that she's positive is your secret one. Its username is a bunch of random letters followed by dot-art and its profile picture is the mural on the side of your school building.

Mapi feels like she's hit the jackpot as she scrolls through it (feeling pleased with herself when she notices a bunch of your school friends follow this account too so it must be you). You've got hundreds of posts up, detailing murals you've done around your hometown and your school. There's a few still life drawings and a huge oil paint piece on a massive canvas. There's an image of a drawing that's clearly done in pen on someone's arm.

It's photorealistic just like your spray paint piece and, if you were older, Mapi would probably beg you to be her tattoo artist.

When she and Ingrid get back to the house, you're napping at the kitchen table.

Ingrid swears under her breath, rousing you from your sleep. "I told you to do your school work," She says.

You shrug. "I did." You shove your notepad towards her. "It's not my fault that it's not difficult."

"You've done the bare minimum."

You shrug. "I'm not into doing more than I have to."

The tension in the air is practically electric as you both stare each other down.

"Lose the attitude," Ingrid says," I'm trying to help you here. Mum and Dad won't let you back home until you clean your act up."

You mutter something under your breath and Ingrid goes rigid.

"Don't say that!" She snaps," They want what's best for you! We want what's best for you!"

"They want what's best for them!" You snap back. In the few weeks that Mapi's known you, you're the most laidback teenager she's ever met. You've never once really bit back at Ingrid, no matter how hard she pushed you.

Ingrid's tough love had seemed to be working. You napped regularly, yes, but you got all of your schoolwork done. You don't come home with hickeys and no strange murals have appeared in Barcelona by your hands.

She must have hit a sore spot for you.

"You're smart," Ingrid says," You're so smart and I don't understand why you don't apply yourself more! If you worked properly, you could graduate early and be at university already!"

"There's nothing at university that interests me," You mutter," It's a waste of time."

"It's not a waste of time!" Ingrid retorts," What are you going to do when you finish school, huh? Do you even have a plan?!"

Mapi sees your eyes dart to where your sketchpad sits a few feet away. She can see the cogs turning in your head.

You stay silent.

Ingrid sighs, hands clenched into two shaking fists. "I love you," She says," But you need to get yourself together." She shoves your papers right back at you.

"I've already finished it!"

"You've done the bare minimum." She swipes your sketchbook off of the table. "Sit down. Do it properly."

"Give it back!"

Ingrid's tall and, even though she's your sister, she's still tall enough to hold your book over her head so you can't reach it. "You get it back when you do your work properly."

"Give it!"

"No!"

"Ingrid, hand it over!"

"Do your work!"

"Urgh! I hate you!"

"Well, too bad. Because I love you!"

You slump into the seat with a scream that makes Mapi's ears ring a bit but you grab your pen and start on your schoolwork again.

"Come on," Mapi says softly, drawing Ingrid into their bedroom and shutting the door.

Ingrid throws your sketchbook onto the bed and paces, pulling at her hair in frustration.

"What-What did she say?" Mapi asks, her mind playing that moment when Ingrid went stiff over and over again.

"She said that she wished Mum and Dad got rid of her when they had the chance...you know...when she was..."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Ingrid groans. "I-I just don't understand her! She's so smart! She has her pick of everywhere! Mum and Dad can get her into medical school! It's like she has no ambition!"

Mapi types into her phone. "Have you considered that, maybe, going to medical school and university isn't exactly for her? I mean, you went straight into football."

Ingrid sighs, the tension draining somewhat from her body. "Mapi...It's different. I had a passion for football even when I was younger. I practiced every day. I knew what I wanted."

"She practices something every day," Mapi replies," And she's so good at it. Honestly, Ingrid, it's a little annoying that you and your family haven't noticed."

She turns her phone around, to a post on your secret Instagram account. It's tagged as a city a few hours away from your old boarding school.

On the side of a crumbling house is a spray paint mural of Norway's women's team. It's got everyone on it, photorealistic like all of your other murals. Ingrid's in the middle though, beaming a smile that you can see reaches her eyes.

"What?" The real Ingrid asks, brow furrowed.

"Your sister did that," Mapi says," She's done a lot of them." She grabs your sketchbook and flicks though it. You'd shown her all of your pieces a few days ago when she asked to see them. "Ingrid, she's so good."

Ingrid flips through your book. There's pencil drawings in there. There's watercolour and acrylic and oil. There's a pastel study of your cat back home and an inked version of Bagheera. There's a stunning piece in charcoal of you and Ingrid when you were younger.

Her fingers hover over your squishy baby cheeks, like she could reach into the picture and touch them.

The next few pages have pictures of your own arm with tattoo designs wrapping around them.

"Ingrid, she's so talented," Mapi says," And, yeah, maybe she shouldn't skip class or leave her work to the last minute but she's found something she's passionate about and loves. How would you feel if your parents didn't support you in your football and made you go to medical school?"

Ingrid wipes the tears out of her eyes when she flicks to the last picture you've drawn. It was from last week, when she rewarded you for doing all your work before the weekend with ice cream. You had taken a picture with Mapi and Ingrid, tongue poking out and cheeks pressed together.

You've replicated it perfectly on the page and scrawled a little heart at the bottom along with your signature.

"Jona...Jona said they're looking for someone to do a mural on the back wall of the Johan Cruyff," She says eventually, flipping the book closed," We...Er...We..."

"I'll call Jona," Mapi assures her," Go and save your sister from work she's already finished."

Like Mapi said, you've already finished all of your work and you're sitting stubbornly at the kitchen table, rolling a piece of lint between your fingers.

You're taken completely off guard when Ingrid pulls you in for a hug. Usually, it takes an hour or two for her to calm down after yelling at you.

"I love you," She says as she pulls away, cradling your face as tears run down her face," I love you so much."

"Ingrid? What's going on?"

"I love you," She says," And I want what's best for you. If you promise me that you'll try just a bit harder in school then I swear, I'll make everything better."

"Seriously, you're freaking me out here. What's going on?"

Map appears over Ingrid's shoulder with a dopey smile. "You should thank your sister. She's just sorted you out with a job."

"A job? Ingrid, no offence, but you don't even like me out of your sight. I can barely get by in Spanish. You want me to get a job too?"

"The Estadi Johan Cruyff needs a mural done-"

"Several murals," Mapi cuts in.

"-And you're doing them."

You blink in shock before a grin splits your face wide open. "Seriously? Are you joking?"

"Keep trying hard," Ingrid says," And I'm sure me and Mapi can sort you out with so much more."

[pkmn-redirect]

Chapter 3 - Page 18

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We're back! Aaaand... with a new (hopefully temporary) update schedule! Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get as far ahead as I would have liked during the month off (June was BUSY). July is looking to be a bit on the hectic side as well- so instead of taking ANOTHER month off, I'm giving myself a bit more breathing room between updates. For now, pkmn-Redirect will post a new page every other Monday instead of the usual 1st, 11th, and 22nd of the month.

Hopefully things will calm down in a couple of months, and we can get back to the other schedule, but for now- thank you for your patience in these delays! All aboard for the rest of Chapter 3!

(Also, complete nonsequiter- can you believe I started this comic 2 whole years ago??? BECAUSE I SURE CAN'T.)

[t34-mt]

tepueh pu, the domesticated que'arsaeb animals of maanuls that act as a "sheperd dog" for them, but for the ocean obviously. more info and images below ->

tepueh pu are a tiny aquatic animal of the que'arsaeb reign meaning it has 6 limbs and its body is segmented in distinct parts, It also means they have a sort of "bone" exo-skeleton with rough skin on top. their front limbs who serve no purpose but to do courting dance and occasionally help themselves to crawl around.

The fur-like things around the eyes and front limbs are purely for courtship, they are not made out of modified feathers as feathers are exclusive to the silieus reign, instead its sort of bristles that are quite rough to the human touch. maanuls do find it entertaining to see them court and as a result of that, they get excited during the part of the year when they court. Creating safe temporary spaces on the beach usually being circle-shaped, all maanuls do is watch them perform and fall over, if they cant get up they come and assist them to put them on their feet again. Tepueh courting consists of them desperately trying to get on their feet (usually being pushing themselves onto a rock to balance on their feet, but more commonly maanuls help them to), then the bright ones will shake their arms. Extending them and vigorously shaking the bits that have the bristles, that when rubbing against each other rapidly, create a sound that can be compared to sand being shaken in a jar. the brighter the bristles, the better the sound, and the bigger the moves is what will attract a partner. Said partners are the dull ones.

I'm not sure if they're a unisex species, they might just be random individuals who get a certain boost of hormones that gives them bright bristles and they have to perform for the others who are dull, or if they're just bright males and dull females.

Like i said they're very pathetic on land, meaning maanuls carry them when they need to be transported on land for a reason. Central north maanuls who need to migrate once a year due to temperature drops in the far north have to carry their Tepueh pu on long distances, thus they use these attire, where they attach 2 tupueh pu per side, transporting 4 in total. While I'm talking about north maanuls, every other maanuls would also use this attire to transport multiple tupueh pu. Although said attire has regional variants in terms of designs, a rough look at what a northern one would look like here ->

as seen in the example, tupueh pu can have different color variations per region, While this is not the final look of northern tupeuh pu there would be light coloration from mutations. Tupueh pu are purely bred to be working species not a pet, so while color mutations are seen as a fun thing its not their priority or what they're searching for. While not a family pet it doesn't mean children do not play with them from time to time in the water. However, tupueh pu can be used as a service "pet" in the water for maanuls with blindness or other disabilities affecting vision that would require a service pet to navigate in waters. tupueh pu are never bred to be fancy but to be useful to maanuls, they're very grateful to have them and treat them with great respect.

While they are not house pets it doesn't mean they cannot be pampered outside of working hours by maanuls, being given treats, groomed daily by owners, and being treated with care for the smallest illness they could catch.

the breathing holes of tupueh pu are on each side of their back, due to being aquatic for quite a while their opperculums had the time to shift to a more convenient place for quick gasp of air at the surface. Their maanul owners however do not, maanuls when wanting to breathe before swimming again need to get on their back once reaching the surface, as their opperculums are placed here. While technically they could push air to enter their vocal vents and redirect it to the lungs its not something they do as they do not inhale enough air using this method to feel comfortable.

ocean shepherd as a concept (final version will be posted separately)

warning The cattle shown here is not the final design, they will not look like this once ocean sheperd as a concept are done and fleshed out in the future. this is just an example

ocean shepherd, or just called shepherd among maanuls, originally i thought of them guarding a group of smaller animals (small fish) tho the idea of one or three large slow domesticated cattle sounds more cool in my opinion and also easier to contain for maanuls overall. their cattle would need maanul assistance to live comfortably, maanul coming near them by canoe or even swimming if they're not so far. usually always have at least one maanul by their side who shifts their guarding job with other fishermen after a period of time. I imagine said cattle to be kept in a shallow kelp forest where it has all the food it needs, and little to no predators around to worry around. Maanuls might even sit on their backs during their shift duty because the cattle is docile and doesn't bother them doing it, plus they also need to get on them when they pamper them (by cleaning them)

this is my rough vision of it for now, while i have tupueh pu (tho its quite bare bones on this post) , i just need to design the cattle now, then write a whole long post about how maanul sheperds works.

- - -

the vague shapes i did to figure out tupueh pu (in chronological order)

heres some fun stuff, i wanted them to be awkward looking, those penguins from subnautica were on the back of my mind while doing them, creature design is just doing vague shapes for me

[mellxncollie]

Temporary pause from working on a Charles' cricket bat gifset to talk about this shot:

It's such a well composed shot! It's the most badass cricket bat moment and this is like the anime-styled, matrix-level, critical hit, crescendo moment for Charles after all of his anger in episodes 3-5, and now he's redirecting it in a way that is no longer terrifying to his friends but supportive (though i would argue most of his anger in eps 3-5 was still very justified).

The negative space here is just *chefs kiss* and gives space for Charles to be focused on. It's simple and uncomplicated, making it easy for us to digest just how badass Charles is.

But like, look at it overlaid with some common composition 'rules'

Rule of Thirds

We've got him fairly well-aligned with the rule of thirds, his body and arm mostly along the lines with the cricket bat ending around that intersection

Then, similar to the rule of thirds, it fits even better with the Golden Ratio

This gets more along his center of gravity, and all that empty space on the sides just makes him even more important in the frame

These two rules, and the next one, are what makes it feel kind of "matrix"-like to me.

Golden Triangles

So maybe this doesn't look like it matches, and you'd be right. It doesn't match the lines of the composition exactly, but the golden triangles shows us that the shot is angled to somewhat align with this composition. Charles is parallel to those shorter lines, and the whole shot guides our eye along that long, downwards line.

If it was angled a little more or less dramatically, then it might not have had as much of an effect. This specific angle makes it feel so dynamic.

You can even use the Diagonal Composition that photoshop has (basically 2 square crosses that align with the 4 corners--with a smaller aspect ratio they'd overlap more)

Here the thing to note is the cricket bat's edge fitting almost too perfectly with that one line.

Golden Spiral (the one where i'm definitely stretching it a bit but whatever)

So this doesn't work as much in the full frame aspect ratio (2.2:1) but if we cut out the negative space, Charles fits along the larger part of the swooping arc. Not as much of a thing to focus on at the center of the spiral, but if we flip the spiral:

The cricket bat is in that spot. I know this is a bit of a stretch of the golden spiral, but all this to say, it's still really fucking cool.

All of these 'rules' aligning like this make it such a satisfying scene to watch. For me, when he catches that cricket bat it's like when a difficult math equation comes out to a whole number, or when a poem finds the perfect rhyme for the very last line, or when you're at the end of a whodunit and the detective lays out how the crime was committed. It's the best conclusion for an already amazing moment, everything falling perfectly into place.

[brucewaynehater101]

Apologies if I'm remembering wrong but I recall you posting/reblogging a post of Tim being afraid for Damian after he became Robin, thinking Red Hood would redirect his ire to him

Let's expand on that, Damian finding out about all the horrible shit Tim went through and put himself through and beginning to dread being Robin more and more but not wanting to take it back because he doesn't want to add onto Tim's pain

((and also because giving up robin would make him look week, but that's just an excuse))

So Damian is wrecked with anxiety because when is the hammer gonna drop and he'll receive what Tim did?

And if Tim's inheritance is going to be his, that means inheriting all the labor he is endures when running Wayne Enterprises, and etc

And Damian—wrong as he is—thinking himself selfish for hoping Tim stays in the family just so the day he inherits his duties comes later

Damian bonding with Tim over pain the latter experienced and the former is certain he will as well

((and also imagine what will go through Damian's head if he were to find out Tim doesn't even consider himself an actual Wayne member and just a Placeholder to keep the family from crumbling to pieces like that other post, a Placeholder until Jason and Damian came))

((and suddenly his assassination attempts seem like all for nothing and even self-sabotage, woof))

Hello! It seems that there are two of my posts you're referring to here (which is super super cool). This is going to be a long post cause it inspired me to really look at their dynamic and explore it.

One post talks about how Tim became Red Robin and didn't choose another mantle. There's a few reasons for this (like not being able to step down from his role of helping Bruce), but the reason you're referring to is another theory of mine. Tim may be Red Robin to share the burden and pain being Robin entails. He doesn't want Damian to face it alone. By being Red Robin, he can shoulder some of the ire from Batman.

The other post has Tim, who signed himself up to being Jason's placeholder both in an out of the mask, seeing himself as worthless and temporary. Both of his roles, being Jason and being Robin, got filled by Jason and Damian later.

Now that we've got the background, I absolutely love your take on this. I will add a few fics that expand on this view, but I do want to talk about it more first.

Unfortunately, Damian is used to a lot of abuse before coming to live with the Waynes (I love good mom Talia, but training to be an assassin is still abuse. She could have good reasons, but it still hurt Damian). He probably felt that he needed to earn his place and fulfill his familial role as Robin. Even as he matures and heals a bit, he may be reluctant to let Robin go. That type of training and enforced dedication to family is not simple to let go (even from a purely emotional abuse standpoint without any of the physical abuse he likely endured [This can be another thing he shares with Tim and his reluctantance to let Red Robin go]).

Kids, like Damian, will see others in similar situations and try to avoid their fate.

What is more likely? Tim is just special in being a target of isolation and abuse, or that Damian could one day be treated the same?

There's a ton of interesting theories about roles within abusive families (my family was emotionally abusive fyi). The sad part is that some of the kids will follow the example of their parents and abuse their siblings. This is both because parents model behavior and as a survival technique to not become the scapegoat like that one sibling. Damian may have joined in on being verbally abusive for both of these reasons (as well as being an extremely traumatized kid lashing out).

As he grows older and gains perspective (as well as distance from his LoA days), he may reflect on his behavior and the treatment of Tim. Tim is also the closest in age to Damian. He might be around physically more than the other siblings (besides Duke). Perhaps Duke even points out the differential treatment. There's a lot of ways that the metaphorical ball could get rolling.

This could be where Damian starts to regret his actions toward Tim. It may start from a selfish place (which, survival is not selfish and being selfish isn't always bad) of Damian realizing the assassination attempts are self-sabotage (and I love this idea and reflection on Damian). This would then morph into a genuine relationship and reliance on Tim.

I imagine, with these circumstances, that Tim becomes an anchor and safe point for Damian. All of the siblings have varying effects on the others, but this would be separate from that. While Dick is Damian's harbor, Tim would be closer to a lighthouse protecting Damian from the rocky shoreline. Dick is a place to rest and heal. Tim is a warning and guide (feel free to reblog with how the other batkids would be with Damian or each other).

Continually, Damian wanting Tim to stick around the family for his own safety hurts like hell. This casts the older sibling guilt (of leaving your siblings behind in that damn house) in a younger sibling's shame. Depending on the age, the younger sibling might be angry the older left or ashamed they want to ask in the first place. As a middle child, that fucking hurts (my situation is a bit more nuanced than that, but fuck. Ow).

Anyways, tons of angst to explore there on both of their parts.

I sincerely hope that Damian gets a life outside of WE. I hope he at least has time to explore himself (and maybe get a different career) before ever taking up WE. Depending on Tim's role in WE, this may fuck him over. I would be down to read some fics that explore Tim struggling under WE (cause he was meant for the research labs and not meeting rooms) and his refusal to step down due to the pressure that would put on Damian's shoulders (I know Tim isn't actually CEO in canon, but it's good to explore how the expectation of taking up the family business affects sibling dynamics).

Fic rec time! All are on AO3

"Exit Strategy" by smilebackwards (Tim's plan to leave the Waynes creates the ability for Damian and Tim to bond [not that Damian knows this is the plan]. Hurt ensues).

"Taming a Baby Assassin" by nighttmr (Tim, after being notified that he's getting a younger sibling with Damian, decides he'll be a big brother regardless of the effort required).

"Some Common Ground" by Do_wa_diddy (Both Damian and Tim are used to cruel standards of training. The others do not understand this and try to limit how they train. This causes Tim and Damian to bond).

"Just Like the Movies" by faithms (Damian finds a flash drive of all the times Bruce has been horrible to Tim).

"The Study of Birds" by MaskoftheRay (Tim and Damian find a common interest in bird watching. It shows them slowly becoming closer despite the obstacles).

Last one:

"You'll Change Your Name or Change Your Mind (previous title: Tim Drake Learns to Set Boundaries)" series by samsamiam.

I wholeheartedly recommend this series. Basically, Tim sets boundaries for himself while offering Damian sanctuary (should the kid need). It becomes Tim protecting Damian even from Bruce. Very very very good.

[itsabouttimex2]

I have seen many yandere parental figure so how about yandere offspring? Like Yandere mk/nezha/redson/mei to his parental figure? How would their parental figure to their child "strange" behavior?

Yandere Children:

Red Son and Ne Zha

(This is the first time I’ve written romantic yandere for Y/N. Not too surprised that it was for Bull King and Iron Fan.)

I like to think of this particular Y/N as a demon born of ice, someone who owes a serious debt to Princess Iron Fan.

When she finally calls it in, you head immediately to her fortified residence, seeing the former celestial standing outside with her husband, a small bundle in his arms.

You expect the worst, and prepare accordingly. The favor you owe is great- no task is beyond her asking. Your blessing, or a fragment of your power. Your service as a guard or war companion. Your compliance in a murderous scheme. But Princess Iron Fan does not wish for any of that.

Instead, she wants a babysitter.

“We were hoping… that you might be a suitable caretaker for our son. It could be that your natural affinity for ice will help to neutralize Red Son’s wielding of the Samahdi Fire.”

So the little boiling bundle is pushed into your icy arms, steam hissing and filling the air on contact.

His temperature lowers as yours rises, the little baby cooing and laughing at the humid mist swirling around you.

“…I didn’t know you had a son,” you say, poking the plumpness of his little scarred cheek. “And what a big and healthy thing he is, too.”

“A worthy heir to my throne!” The Demon Bull King proudly announces, watching closely as you handle his cherished son. Gently, you press a kiss to his bindi. Pulling away slowly, your lips leave a glittering ice-blue mark upon it, reading simply: 凛.

This is the life you settle into, a mostly peaceful passing of days spent playing with the growing boy and helping to tame his deadly flames.

Any time they grow out of control (and it happens frequently) you quickly reapply your blessing to his forehead, chilling his internal temperature and forcing his body to redirect the fire to heat himself up.

His parents watch on in awe, seeing you so easily and calmly reign in something so deadly and uncontrollable. You quickly become more than a temporary babysitter, given a lavish room furnished with every luxury that a demon could desire.

(Let’s be honest, there’s some real poly energy with you’ve got going on with PIF and DBK. ‘Live-in babysitter’, my ass.)

As the three of you grow closer, so swells your bond with Red Son, serving as primary caretaker and educator. He’s a prodigal learner, taking quickly to magic especially. You learn that the boy has a knack for putting things together, spot-welding any pieces of metal he can find. These little jagged creations are often gifted to you, and you have a shelf entirely dedicated to displaying them. Often will he reject his own bed to sleep beside you, finding comfort in the coldness of your skin.

But, in spite of all sweetness…

Red Son is still a demon, things that are horribly powerful and often violent or deceitful, if not outright murderous.

And he grows to see Y/N as being something that belongs to the Demon Bull Clan. And sure, with the nearly unpayable debt you owe to Iron Fan and your budding relationship with his parents, he’s not exactly wrong.

A caretaker, a maid, a teacher, a mentor, a friend. These are all things you have become in grateful service to this powerful family. And eventually, all those things bleed to what they really what:

A spouse and a parent.

It’s hard to tell exactly when the shift in their perspective occurs, because their obsession is a slow, drudging creep. But the shift in their actions once they realize their obsession is instead blindingly quick.

One day you’re sitting down with Red to teach him calligraphy, gently and reassuringly fixing his brushstroke and complimenting every line he gets right, all while he demands to sit in your lap.

Then night falls and it is made very clear to you what your new role in the family in, complete with a shift in sleeping area and clothing.

You’re pressed flush between Iron Fan and Bull King as they slumber, dressed in a red silk gown and bearing purple-jeweled rings across many of your fingers. Red Son sleeps on your chest, his grip immovably tight.

And this is the new life you must grow accustomed to, either to repay your debt or perhaps… because you have come to like it.

Loved isn’t the worst thing to be, after all.

(Personal headcanon: befitting his status as the Third Lotus Prince, most offerings given to Ne Zha consist of foods containing lotus seeds, lotus root, and lotus paste. At this point, he’s grown somewhat sick of the sweet taste. He actually prefers meat and vegetables.)

“Ne Zha,” you call, exploring the halls of his palace. “Little one, it’s time for dinner!”

All that meets your words is the clanging of metal and the tearing of leather. He’s training again, as always.

You push aside a silk curtain embroidered with many lotuses, revealing a well-stocked armory lined with dozen of training dummies.

And in the middle is a very worn-out Ne Zha, the little prince dripping with sweat.

“Little one,” you say, causing the boy’s sash to stand to attention, startled upwards like the tail of a cat. “What did I say about training so late?”

“I, um… I’m not supposed to train… so I won’t want to sleep in late to, um, make up for lost energy.”

“That’s right, sweetpea. Come on, let’s get something in your stomach. And then you’ll need a bath.”

“I already took a bath today,” he huffs, slotting his dual-tipped spear face-down into a holding pot. “I don’t need another.”

Timed to the click of your tongue, you swipe a finger across the young boy’s forehead, dragging a line in the built-up sweat. “I think you do, Ne Zha.”

“…hmph,” he pouts, his little cheeks puffing out. Though the prince is much too polite to outright refuse or go so far as to throw a tantrum, he still shows his displeasure in a quiet and mild way.

It’s one of the things you cherish most about him. Ne Zha is well behaved and rather mature, to the point where you have to encourage him to play and take breaks. It feels a little unfair, really, that someone so young has been saddled with so much responsibility.

You ply the Third Lotus Prince with plushies and paints, allowing him to explore avenues of creativity and make-believe. It’s nourishing for both his mind and body, a period of well-earned rest to slowly recuperate from the constant training he’s so insist on enduring.

In turn, he’s viciously protective of you, and often asks for your explicit attention over any other maidservant in the Celestial Realm.

Expect him to ward off any would-be suitors by challenging them to duels. It’s a lose-lose scenario . They either somehow win and beat the hell out of a little boy, or, more likely, get the hell beaten out of them by a little boy. Either way, it’s not exactly something that endears them to you, watching grown men and women raise their blades to your protective charge.

Kissing his wounds and fixing his hair, doting on the little lotus prince as your would-be suitors seethe, wishing that they were the ones receiving your attention.

Eventually, Ne Zha will properly dress himself (that’s a lie, he needed your help) for an audience with several important deities in the Celestial Realm, he asks for your permanent placement as his personal parent maidservant.

And what reason do they have to deny such a loyal warrior?

[trymoresyllables]

WAIT THE MINECRAFT WIKI HAS USED HERMITCRAFT AS A CITATION

Grian & Scar accidentally discovered new target block functionality. This is glorious.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Legacy media, partisan media, media funded by the rich is—with notable exception—animated not by a desire to expose wrongdoing or produce useful information, but to manufacture talking points, nuggets of superficially-sounding truisms and thought memes about why politics is best left to the professionals. Most “foreign policy” reporters and pundits, especially, are motivated by the creation, repetition, and dissemination of these talking points, these thought memes, these Reasons Nothing Can Change and Nothing You Do Matters.  Don’t use the word genocide—it’s not technically accurate.  And even if it is accurate, Biden is working hard to get a ceasefire anyway. And even if he’s not actually working for a ceasefire but simply renamed a “temporary pause” a “ceasefire” and still supports the vague objective of “eliminating Hamas” no matter the carnage, he can’t actually end the war anyway even if he wants to. And even if he could end the war, it’s politically bad for him to do so. Wait, no, it’s politically unimportant.  And even if it’s not politically bad or unimportant, civilian deaths have reduced anyway, so what’s the point? Also, didn’t you hear the UN “lowered the count of women and children killed in Gaza”?  Wait, they didn’t actually do this? Okay, well it’s already out there so it doesn’t matter. It feels true, it feels like the number is too high and brown people are shifty and untrustworthy.  And even if civilian deaths haven’t gone down and the UN didn’t actually lower its count, Hamas can’t remain in power anyway. This is just a pat thing to say, right? Sounds anodyne enough?  Okay, so you want Hamas to remain in power? You’re pro-Hamas? There was a ceasefire on October 6. Terrorist, terrorist, terrorist. Free the hostages. Hostages.  Ceasefire on October 6. How can Israel have a ceasefire with terrorists? Wait, it’s happened before, over a dozen times?  Look, Biden is doing all he can to broker a ceasefire which, I know I just said was impossible, and also said he was powerless to do. Unless he does it then he’s not. Look, we can’t really impact Israel, Biden is mostly a spectator, but also it’s important he and Congress send Israel another $26 billion in weapons. What about Darfur? Haiti? Tigray? These are things, no? I just googled “war crimes going on rn” and this came up and despite never mentioning them before I think we should bring them up. But the US isn’t giving these genocidal regimes billions a year in weapons? Yes, but Hamas, Terror, Hostages, Darfur, Iran, Houthis are violating maritime law.  Shocked and horrified but what they see on their social media timelines on a daily basis, and the US’s direct role in it, there’s tremendous professional incentive in our media to come in and explain away, redirect, justify, and cast doubt on the obvious conclusion that this has to stop, that it simply cannot go on. Because it won’t stop, it’s bipartisan consensus—the powers that be decided it has to go on and there’s an election to win in November. There is thus a buyer’s market, and has been for the past seven months, for reporting and opinion pieces to explain why Nothing Can Change and Nothing You Do Matters. 

[sluttysanemi]

✧˚ · . – HIS WOUNDS.

a/n: i was walking up the stairs and then my arsehole got probed by my friends fingers

i also need to interact w more ppl so jst a little reminder my dms r open! nsfw version.

c/w: brief descriptions of wounds, suicidal mentality?, slight angst, then fluff.

He's too rough with himself.

In the early midst of dawn, he shuffles his feet into the estate. Heavy trembles of breath exhale from his lips, as his chest and forearms are daubed in fresh scars. Droplets of sweat streak across his skin as he struggles to breathe smoothly. 

He is uncaring on how he inflicts himself harm. Even if the scars appear to grow heavier, and scathe his body further, he merely accepts them as a Hashira. 

He proceeds to the bathroom, with heavy feet, attempting to wash the ooze of crimson trickling from his skin. He carries a bucket, crafted of timber, beneath the tap, filling it with warm water. He has hazy eyes- worn and burnt out, rendering it difficult for him to see clearly. 

After filling the surface, he closes the faucet and picks a towel. He dips the material beneath the surface of water and squeezes the excess. Repeating the motions he is so accustomed to each night, he begins to apply the towel to his open wounds, extracting the blood.

Yet it hurts, no matter the number of times he does it. 

He sucks in air harshly between his teeth, his fingers clenching slightly. He relieves the pressure, allowing a moment to compose himself before attempting to wash it, yet again. He's whispering harsh phrases under his breath as he struggles through the agony. His brow furrows, and his breath continues to waver. 

You gradually stir from your shared futon, jarred awake by the subtle noise caused. You carefully sit up from the cushioning, following the trail of softly echoing groans and the melody of trickling water. 

You slide the door of the bathroom, coming witness of the scene. The silky fabric of the washcloth had darkened with blood, the material now a remembrance of misery. You gaze to the numerous slashes over his body. You can only feel sympathy.

It hurts to see your husband in such a position. 

Sanemi studies your worried expression before scoffing. He redirects his gaze to the wall. “You should be asleep.”, he spoke dismissively. 

You swallow nervously. “Sanemi…”

“I’m fine. Don’t bother with me. Just get some rest.”

You, however, remained by the door. There was a temporary tense sense in the air, as you both remained silent. 

You sighed quietly as you sealed the door, sitting alongside him. He glances at you, bewildered. 

“What the fuck are you–”

“Let me clean them.”, you said sternly, your tone offering no room of argument. 

He stares at you, his expression softening. He hands you the towel and sits up slightly. Draping the towel to the water again, you attempt to delicately clear around the newly formed injuries.

Sanemi's body loosened, observing how his severe pain had eased. His breathing grows softer as he settles. You have always been so tender.

A comfortable silence persists as you continued your work. 

Something was troubling you, however. You swallowed, eventually speaking up. 

“I'm worried for you, Shinazugawa.”, your words a kind whisper. 

He observes your expression before turning his attention to his own body. 

“Don’t be. I’m used to it. You shouldn’t get your head so wrapped around stupid shit.”

You swallow again. 

“But- You’re my husband. I- I can’t help but to worry.”

Your anxious remarks tore him inside. However, he chose to put other people before himself. Even at the cost of hurting himself. 

“I can take care of myself.”

You observe his face. His apathetic expression. You couldn't let him act so irresponsibly. You had to express your worries. 

You take his hand, trying to collect your words. 

“I just- I wish you wouldn’t be so unthoughtful. I know how important your swordsmanship is- and- and it’s admirable. You put yourself in front of others. But… If you’re prioritizing your life over others.. Who will take care of you?”

Sanemi listens to your heartfelt words, absorbing every detail. Every emotion. He swallows. 

“I know we’ve lost so many to these wretched demons. They only feed on the pain of our children, their mothers- and brothers. I- I just.”, you continue. 

“I just can’t bare to see the way you’re coming home. I hate seeing you so torn. And tired. I hate seeing my husband pain himself further each and every day.”

You felt a swell in your throat. It was going to spill. It was clawing from your throat. 

“I don’t want my husband to kill himself trying to protect everyone but himself. I don’t want him to die on a hill of misery, just like everyone we’ve lost. I- I couldn’t let that happen to you.”, you shook your head, trying to not picture his corpse. 

“I just couldn’t.”

Sanemi observes your expression. He felt his heart throb. He'd never been moved so strongly by an emotional display. 

Had he truly been so irresponsible with himself? Had he disregarded his wife's feelings?

He takes your hand, maneuvering it closely to his lips. He smiles tenderly. 

“You shouldn’t worry about it anymore.”, he said, pressing soft pecks against your fingers. “And I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of you.”

You watch, your gaze easing slightly. He continued to brush his lips against your fingers, eventually to your knuckle. 

“My sweet wife. Such a kind woman. Always lookin’ out for her husband, hm?”, he whispers softly. “Don’t get so conscious. I won’t be worrying you like this again.”, he admitted.

Your eyes widen slightly as you hear his words. “You won’t?” you whisper, your tone expressing disbelief. 

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I won’t allow those putrid things to scathe me so badly again.”, he passes you a sincere smile. “And I won’t scare you so badly, my sweet. I’ll be more gentle to myself.”

You experienced a sense of relief as his smile filled you with warmth. All your concerns and anxieties faded away at that instant replaced by a feeling of tranquility and happiness. 

In a moment filled with love and dedication, you gently press your lips to his, expressing your sense of fulfillment. During your embrace, you embody a bond through unspoken connection. The outside world fades, as you revel in the shared intimacy of spirits. The comforting warmth of the embrace surrounds you completely.

A serene atmosphere of love, and tranquility, as you enfold the thought of your husband's safety.

[honeytonedhottie]

embracing being alone⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

learning to be alone is such a crucial thing to learn at all times during your life, but especially during your youth. and something to understand is that sometimes, protecting your peace comes at the cost of being alone but being alone is peaceful! and not as bad as you might think that it is.

being alone offers an opportunity for self discovery and growth and rest and relaxation and reflection and the list goes ON. being able to enjoy your own company is a SUPER power bcuz it genuinely nourishes you so much.

enjoying your own company ;

you dont have to be codependent on someone else to make yourself happy or to make yourself feel good. what fulfills you and nourishes you isnt the relationships that u have with others. although that is an amazing and fulfilling thing, the most fulfilling thing is learning yourself. being alone REPLENISHES you, its like, hydration for the soul.

dont wait on someone else to do something that you wanna do!! if u dont have anyone to go with, just go on your own. you dont have to wait on others to be happy.

practice being alone ;

go on solo dates, practice planning to do something fun and just doing it by yourself. once you start doing things alone and you see how nice it feels, you'll want to do it more bcuz its so easy to enjoy your own company, you just have to get over your fear of judgement or of being alone and learn to enjoy and embrace it.

have a spa day

learn to cook a new dish

read a book

have a journalling session

schedule appointments for yourself

go on a long drive

some benefits of enjoying your own company ;

you can be yourself without filter

less distractions and you give yourself time to ponder and look internally

your in control of your space and your time

you can be creative and imaginative without interference

its peaceful

being your own best friend ;

treat yourself how you'd treat someone that you valued a lot. be compassionate and understanding and respectful. dont talk badly about yourself and dont be mean to/punish yourself bcuz u wouldn't do that to someone that u loved and cherished.

dont abandon yourself in times where life can become stressful. focus on being present and dont forget your worth. your self worth and value doesn’t come from how useful you are to others, your valuable simply because you are you. a human being who is deserving of love. your worth doesnt come from how productive you are or what you’ve achieved, instead your worth is already done and your valuable because of your existence. 

coping without friends ;

everything is temporary and meaningful relationships will always find their way to you. just understand that some ppl are here temporarily and some ppl are here for a lifetime but only you are here for all of it which is why its important to be alone and be comfy with that.

not everyone is gonna like you or wanna be your friend and thats okay. it has nothing to do with you and is almost always simply because of different personalities and its not personal

brush off rejections bcuz rejection is just redirection. when you dont take everything personally you'll notice how much happier you'll be overall.

know that the meaningful relationships and connections that u crave will come!! no one is here to be alone forever so you'll meet the people who pour into you and you'll meet ppl that u can pour into and you'll be okay!!

overall, enjoying your own company does wonders for your mental and physical health and its a useful skill to learn in general because it brings so much peace from being able to sit with your thoughts.

[justice4gyeongsu]

━━━ 'CHAPTER SIX' [WHEN DAWN BREAKS]

SYNOPSIS ➢ the art of unlikely alliances is always something special. even if you never saw it coming.

PAIRING ➢ lee suhyeok x male!reader

AU ➢ enemies-to-lovers au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; homophobia, assault, bullying, embarrassment, some fluff, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

NEXT | PREVIOUS

in a flash of adrenaline-fueled strength, cheongsan wrenched the wooden frame from the classroom window sill and brought it crashing down on the zombie's skull, shattering the glass and sending the undead attacker tumbling to the ground. the sudden motion freed you from the zombie's deadly grasp, but the relief was short-lived as you collapsed to the floor, your shoulder throbbing in agony, feeling as though it had been torn from its socket. hroryeong rushed to your side, her voice laced with panic, "did it get you? you weren't bit, right?" but your response was reduced to a mere moan, your body consumed by an overwhelming tide of pain. with gentle urgency, hroryeong propped you against the wall, easing you off the cold floor. as your head lolled back against the wall, she pleaded with you to get up, but her words were drowned out by the cacophony of pain screaming through your mind, rendering you unable to respond.

a whispered curse escaped your lips as you struggled to hold back the tears welling up in your eyes, desperate to maintain a semblance of composure in front of your peers. the girls closed in around you, a wall of support, as you turned to witness the boys employing makeshift wooden frames to hold off the undead. but then, daesu burst into action, ripping an entire classroom door from its hinges with a fierce battle cry. "hey!" he blared, "get out of the way!" the boys scrambled to clear a path as daesu charged forward, door held aloft like a shield. with a series of swift, precise shoves, he blocked the zombie horde, creating a crucial barrier.

inspired by daesu's bravery, the boys rallied behind him, pushing forward with renewed determination, their collective momentum building as they fought to reclaim ground from the relentless undead.

with a shared glance, the girls nodded in unison, swiftly moving to support you. they carefully draped your one functional arm over hroryeong's shoulder, forming a united front as they navigated the treacherous hallways. the boys, meanwhile, strained against the undead horde, their grunts of exertion echoing through the corridors as they stumbled forward, blindly rounding corners.

upon reaching the stairwell, the boys seized the opportunity to redirect the zombies down the stairs, creating a temporary barrier. the girls, undaunted, collectively lifted you up the upper stairs, their footsteps a testament to their determination. summoning every last ounce of energy, you pushed through the pain, refusing to become a burden, and ran alongside them, your feet pounding the stairs in a desperate bid for safety.

the boys clattered the stairs behind you, their footsteps closing in as they struggled to catch up. meanwhile, hroryeong had swiftly pulled you into the first available hallway on the next floor, but her hasty decision soon proved misguided - the corridor was already teeming with stumbling zombies. in a flash, the girls' voices rose in unison, "go! go!" as they propelled you up another staircase, desperate to outrun the undead. you winced in pain, your makeshift sling threatening to unravel amidst the chaos. "it's... slipping," you ground out through gritted teeth, alerting hroryeong to the danger.

with a panicked gasp, she swiftly resecured the sling, her fingers shaking as she worked. simultaneously, the boys surged forward, forming a barrier between you and the ravenous horde, their bodies blocking the zombies that had been drawn by the commotion.

jimin spun around, her eyes locking onto daesu as he sprinted towards her, the wooden door clutched in his hands. but her gaze quickly shifted, her eyes widening in alarm as she spotted something lurking behind him. "daesu! watch out!" she yelled, her voice piercing the chaos. daesu reacted swiftly, spinning to face the new threat and hoisting the door like a shield, blocking the zombies' advance. but their respite was short-lived, as they found themselves encircled, the undead closing in on all sides.

you glanced up, wincing in pain, and saw that you were trapped, pinned between the zombies and a single, tantalizing doorway. "jimin-ah!" you shouted, grabbing her attention, and nodded frantically towards the door. jimin rushed to the door, only to find it locked, her face contorting in frustration. "shit, it's locked! we need a-a key or something to open it!" she shouts, her voice carrying to the others. daesu and jimin exchanged tense words, their argument fueled by the desperation to escape, their voices rising as the zombies closed in.

in a rapid, determined move, onjo commanded daesu to push back against the zombies with renewed force. meanwhile, she crawled forward with a sense of purpose, her hands grasping for the school's fire hose, coiled and ready for emergency use. she wielded the hose's metal nozzle like a hammer, pounding relentlessly against the metal lock. as the group held their collective breath, their exhausted muscles screaming in protest, hroryeong buried her face in your shoulder, her body trembling with fear. in a poignant reversal of roles, you found yourself now offering comfort and support to the girl who had once helped you.

"onjo, please!" hroryeong begged, her voice trembling with fear as tears streamed down her face. onjo summoned every last ounce of strength, her final swing landing with a resounding clang as the lock yielded, the door creaking open in defeat.

with a collective sigh of relief, the girls surged forward, pouring into the classroom like a dark tide. you ushered hroryeong across the threshold first, ensuring each of them reached safety before turning to daesu, who still lingered outside. "guys! it's open, come on!" you urged, your hand reaching out to pat daesu's shoulder as you held the door open, a beacon of hope in the chaos.

in a final, desperate bid for safety, the boys heaved against the door with all their might, then turned to sprint into the classroom. but in the chaos, cheongsan's foot caught on a splintered wooden plank, shattered remnants of the window frame, and he stumbled. a zombie, sensing vulnerability, began to crawl towards him with eerie speed.

without hesitation, you dashed out into the fray, ignoring the girls' frantic pleas from inside. you grasped cheongsan's arm, yanking him to his feet, and dragged him towards the door, his legs scrambling to keep up. releasing your grip, you spun to slam the door shut, the zombies' snarls and thuds echoing through the room as you leaned against the door, your heart ringing in your ears. breathless, you slid down the door, holding it closed, and glanced down at your shirt - now more tattered and filthy than ever.

as you caught your breath, the reality of your situation sank in. the zombies' relentless pounding on the door echoed through the room, a grim reminder of the horrors outside. the girls huddled together, their eyes wide with fear, while the boys stood frozen, unsure of what to do next. nayeons voice trembled as she spoke, "w-we can't stay here. we have to find another way out." but her words trailed off, lost in the uncertainty that gripped them all.

in a hair-raising moment, daesu's scream pierced the air as a zombie's bloody hand clamped onto his face and hair, its fingers digging deep into his skin. the creature's torso had wriggled halfway through the shattered window, its eyes fixed on daesu with a ravenous gleam.

without hesitation, joonyeong sprang into action, grabbing a fire extinguisher and slamming it into the zombie's head with a loud crash. the creature's grip faltered, its body slumping backward as it tumbled out of the window. but in the chaos, joonyeong's wild swing had shattered another pane, leaving a gaping hole in the wall.

"get a desk!" cheongsan yelled, his voice ringing out as the group scrambled to respond. in a flurry of movement, they heaved chairs and desks into place, forming another barricade to block the windows. everyone except you rushed to help, their faces set with determination as they worked to secure their fragile sanctuary.

tempers frayed as nayeon's angry voice was heard, her words aimed squarely at onjo. "how could you lose it?" she shouted, her frustration palpable.

before you could even process what had been lost, gyeongsu intervened, his practicality a stark contrast to nayeon's emotion. "who cares?" he said gruffly, as he grasped another desk, his focus fixed on the task at hand. "we gotta secure the room now," he stated, his eyes locked on the front of the room as he headed back to join the others.

a fleeting sense of calm was shattered as nayeon's biting remark sliced through the air: "like you can talk." the familiar spark of animosity between her and gyeongsu was unmistakable, their long-standing dynamic of constant bickering rearing its head even in the face of catastrophic danger.

as you witnessed the exchange, it was clear that their petty squabbles had become a deeply ingrained habit, a reflexive pattern of behavior that persisted even as life and death hung in the balance.

gyeongsu's scoff dripped with loathing. "it's your fault we're in this mess. you were supposed to block the door and you didn't." nayeon stood her ground, her chin held high, as she delivered the final blow: "and if you had actually done what you were supposed to, then the gym teacher wouldn't have gotten to us." the air was heavy with tension, their verbal sparring a stark contrast to the dire circumstances that surrounded them.

you attempted to intervene, starting with a stern "nayeon-", but she swiftly cut you off, her words spilling out in a torrent of anger. "we almost died because of you! you're so fucking annoying," she spat, her venom directed at gyeongsu, who seemed to be seething, his anger barely contained.

but then, a sudden shift - "you forget to remember, you were the reason he left the door in the first place. always bitching at him..." your own pain and irritation boiled over, causing you to lash out at anything that even hinted at raising your blood pressure.

nayeon's lips parted, her eye twitching with agitation, as she lashed out: "seems like you always have something to say, huh? if you hadn't made coach kang so mad, maybe mijin wouldn't have turned!" her words stung you, sparking a surge of anger in both you and gyeongsu. you both began to close in on her, but the room erupted in a chorus of caution, everyone urging you to "leave it alone."

it was clear that this was neither the time nor the place for recriminations, yet nayeon's relentless jabs left you baffled. why was she still fueling the flames of discord when unity was crucial to your survival?

a sense of unease settled over the room as onjo's worried voice cut through the tension: "suhyeokie? has anyone seen him?" the question cast a shadow of concern, sending a shiver down your spine. you scanned the room frantically, searching for the familiar tall figure, but he was nowhere to be found. a growing sense of dread gnawed at your gut.

"he was right behind me," cheongsan called out, his voice strained as he struggled to hold the chairs in place against the window, barricading the zombies outside. the words only heightened your concern, and you felt a surge of fear. "did he..." you started to ask, your voice laced with worry, your heart racing with the urge to rush out and find him. the silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with unspoken fears.

“he didn't get bit,” cheongsan finished for you, his words a welcome relief that prompted a shaky exhale. you hastily masked the betraying breath with a throat clearing, trying to compose yourself. “at least, not when i last saw him…” cheongsan trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper as he too succumbed to worry for his best friend, another young life hanging hazardously in the balance.

slumping into a worn, abandoned chair, your mind spiraled into a tornado of despair, consumed by the haunting thought that he might truly be gone. the possibility that he wouldn't return, refusing to be dismissed. and yet, despite the anguish he had caused, your heart still skipped a beat at the mere memory of him. why did this toxic longing persist, even as your heart seethed with resentment? the pain he had inflicted over the past few months still lingered, a festering wound that refused to heal. so why couldn't you shake the feeling of your heart shattering into a million pieces? your thoughts drifted back to the beginning, to the moment when it all started, and the memories came flooding back…

as the lunch bell rang, the hallways transformed into a sea of chatter and laughter, with clusters of friends walking together. you, however, found yourself alone, making your way back to your friend's classroom to return a borrowed book. as you turned the corner and began descending the stairs, your breath hitched- changhoon and gwinam stood before you, their nonchalant strides a stark contrast to your sudden panic. with lightning-fast reflexes, you spun around and dashed back up the steps, desperate to avoid detection.

you ducked into a nearby classroom, sliding the door shut behind you and pressing your back against it. catching your breath, you cautiously approached the window, peeking out to see the duo sauntering down the hallway, hands buried in their pockets. but then, changhoon's gaze snapped upwards, locking eyes with yours in a fleeting moment of terror. your eyes widened as he nudged gwinam, directing his attention to you. you dropped down, dashing to the back of the room where a decorative screen door panel offered a fragile hiding spot. you concealed yourself behind it, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle any betraying sounds.

abruptly, voices pierced the air, making your senses go on high alert. "yo! suhyeok!" gwinam’s shout sent your eyes darting frantically towards the ground, straining to listen, but only muffled murmurs reached your ears. an oppressive silence followed, causing your legs to tremble beneath you as you crouched in fear.

then, the creak of the classroom door opening made your eyes go wide with terror. you froze, holding your breath, and pleading with any higher power to spare you from harm. a whisper seemed to slice through the air, "yah, go check the back right there." changhoon's voice sent a chill down your spine. the scraping of desks and approaching footsteps made your heart race, each step echoing through the room like a countdown to doom. "the moron couldn't have gone far, we saw him in here," gwinam's detached remark only heightened your fear, his words dripping with venom.

without warning, the curtain door rustled, and a figure emerged, sending you into panic. you gazed up, fear etched on your face, only to be met with a familiar sight - the same guy from the bathroom encounter. his eyes, filled with sympathy and pity, locked onto yours, while your body trembled like a leaf, tears welling up in your eyes. you resembled a lost, helpless kitten, and his expression softened at the sight. a pang struck his chest as he took in your fragile form, curled up in a ball. unaware of the conversation about you, he was taken aback.

"found him?" changhoon and gwinam demanded, their eyes fixed on him for an answer. suhyeok's gaze darted back to you for a fleeting moment before shifting to the other door, slightly ajar. "no, he's not here. must have slipped out the other way," he replied swiftly, covering you with the panel once more, shielding you from view.

you couldn't fathom it - was he truly helping you? "shit, come on!" changhoon's irate voice echoed as he stormed out the door. the sound of footsteps faded into the hallway, and you exhaled a shaky sigh of relief, allowing the pent-up tears to stream down your face. your tense body finally relaxed, surrendering to the emotional release. but then, the panel shifted once more, sending you scrambling backward, your heart racing. suhyeok's gentle voice cut through your fear, "hey, hey, it's okay, they're gone." he knelt beside you, his calm demeanor a bandaid to your frazzled nerves. overwhelmed with gratitude, your head drooped forward, relief washing over you like a wave. hastily, you wiped away your tears, forcing yourself to compose your emotions.

you caught him gazing at you, and swiftly averted your eyes, your ears flaring with heat under the intensity of his dark brown stare. suhyeok's lips parted, but words faltered, trapped in his throat. he yearned to offer solace, yet hesitated, fearing it would only add to the awkwardness. "please...just go," you whispered, your voice barely audible, as you fixed your gaze on your lap, avoiding his eyes.

struggling to stem the tide of tears, you felt exhaustion seep into your very being. the daily grind of fighting to navigate school had taken its toll. the relentless torment - dog feces in your shoes, brutal beatings after class, harassment on your way home, and public humiliation in the classroom - had drained your spirit. the weight of being an outcast, a perpetual pariah, crushed you. even your home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a source of pain. your dad's indifference to your bruises, his dismissal of your nocturnal cries, and his neglect of your suffering had become too much to bear. the cumulative effect was suffocating, leaving you feeling utterly defeated, unable to cope anymore.

“you're no longer on the baseball team,” suhyeok said, disregarding your plea for him to leave. his words hung in the air, prompting you to look up at him in bewilderment. you sniffled, "what?" he simply nodded, his expression unreadable.

"you were on the team, right? i think i saw you play a few times," he said, a faint smile on his face. with a mix of reluctance and embarrassment, you pulled yourself off the floor, dusting off your pants and adjusting your school vest. "um...yeah. that was about a month ago," you admitted, causing suhyeok's smile to falter. he averted his gaze, looking away awkwardly before responding, "right, yeah...it's been a while since i've seen a game, so..." his voice trailed off, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

“why are you friends with them?” you interrupted, curtailing his nonsensical words. your gaze locked onto his, a fierce glare burning with intensity. “they're bullies, cruel and heartless. why?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion and hurt, your eyes welling up with emotion. suhyeok felt the weight of your scrutiny, like a spotlight shining down on him, and he faltered, stuttering before responding, “we've...we've been friends since childhood, they're not that bad, i mean...”

you burst out laughing, mocking his naive words, "not bad, huh?" your laughter echoes again, incredulous that you ever thought he was different. the realization hits you - he's just like the others, "you guys are all the same." with a mix of disgust and disappointment, you shove past him, turning to leave. but he grasps your arm, spinning you back around. his face contorts in offense, hurt by your words, "that's not true."

you swiftly shoot back, "then prove it," the air thick with unspoken meaning, your words a gauntlet thrown. but before suhyeok can respond, the classroom door slides open and a teacher breezes in, interrupting the tense moment. you both hastily step away from each other, trying to appear nonchalant. you hide your tear-stained face behind a veil of hair, avoiding eye contact, while the teacher asks with a cheerful smile, "oh, sorry for the interruption! i thought ms. jang was here. did you two see where she went?" suhyeok quickly attempts to match her bright demeanor, pointing outside, "yes, I saw her head to the teachers' lounge."

the teacher nods, seemingly oblivious to the tension between you and suhyeok. “alright, thank you! ill go catch up with her!” she exits the classroom, leaving you both alone once again. suhyeok takes a step closer to you, his eyes locked on yours. “look, im sorry that-” you didnt wait to hear his apology before leaving the classroom and sliding the door closed behind you.

as the final bell rings, releasing a flood of students into the afternoon, you make your way down the school steps, only to sense a tall figure falling into stride beside you. your gaze drops to find the familiar book you'd forgotten, now being offered to you with a charming smile. suhyeok's eyes sparkle as he says, "you forgot this."

you're taken aback, surprised he'd waited until after school to return it. your pulse quickens at the thought. snapping back to reality, you quickly look away, nodding with a brief, forced smile. the only way you could thank him without actually saying the words. you continue on, merging with the sea of students crossing the street, trying to blend in. as you continue walking, you can't shake off the feeling that suhyeok is still beside you. you glance over, and sure enough, he's keeping pace with you, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. “where are you headed?" he asks, his voice casual, as if he's just making conversation. you hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. "just home," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

suhyeok nods, his smile still in place. "mind if i walk with you? i'm headed in the same direction." you shrug, trying to appear indifferent, but your mind is racing. what does he want? why is he following you? as you walk, the silence between you grows more uncomfortable. suhyeok points out a few landmarks, but you only give curt nods.

"why are you following me?" you ask, deciding to confront him directly. "you could've just returned the book and left." suhyeok's smile falters for a moment, before he looks away, scratching the back of his head. "i guess i just wanted to make sure you got home okay," he says, his voice a little softer. you raise an eyebrow, skeptical. "that's it?" suhyeok looks back at you, his eyes locking onto yours. "im not like myungwhan and them. im gonna prove it to you," he states with that charming smile once again.

you study his face, trying to read between the lines. what does he mean by "prove it" to you? "what do you mean?" you press, your curiosity getting the better of you. suhyeok takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "i mean, i know they've been giving you a hard time. and i'm sorry. i'm sorry i didn't do anything sooner." you feel a pang of surprise. no one's ever apologized for their friends' behavior before. especially not someone like suhyeok. "why are you telling me this?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

suhyeok's smile reappears, this time with a gentler warmth. "because i want to," he says, his response frustratingly vague. you roll your eyes, unimpressed. as you continue walking side by side, you notice two girls across the street, clad in another school's uniform, pointing and whispering in your direction. your face heats up with embarrassment, and you instinctively pull your hoodie up to conceal yourself.

but before you can hide, suhyeok leans in, his fingers brushing against yours as he gently pulls your hoodie back down. his face is suddenly mere inches from yours, his eyes sparkling with amusement. a sudden thrill runs through you at the unexpected proximity, and you feel a flutter in your chest. the whispers and giggles from across the street fade into the background as you become acutely aware of suhyeok's presence.

suhyeok's voice cuts through the warmth, his words laced with a hint of concern. "you're gonna catch a heat stroke if you put your hoodie up," he says, his tone effortlessly casual. as he speaks, his hands reach out to gently tease out the tangles in your hair, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body. his fingers work with a tender precision, as if trying to soothe a skittish creature. the sensation is both calming and unnerving, leaving your cheeks and ears flushed with a gentle heat.

his hands linger, and for a moment, you're trapped in the intimacy of the gesture, the world around you melting away. then, he steps back, his eyes sparkling with amusement, and you're left to wonder at the strange sense of vulnerability that lingers long after his touch is gone.

as you stand there, trying to process the unexpected tenderness, suhyeok's gaze drifts to your hoodie, which is still clutched in your hand. "seriously, take it off," he says, his voice low and persuasive. "it's too hot for that." you hesitate, “its fine..” you say, unsure of what to do. but before you can make a decision, suhyeok reaches out and gently unzips your hoodie from your chest to your lower belly. he helps you take off your backpack and hoodie then holds it for a moment, his fingers brushing against yours, before tossing it casually over his shoulder.

"come on," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "lets keep going." he turns and starts walking, leaving you to follow. you do, your heart still racing from the unexpected touch. as you walk, you can't help but steal glances at suhyeok, wondering what other surprises he might have in store. the sun beats down on you, warming your skin, and you feel a sense of freedom wash over you. maybe, just maybe, this day won't be so bad after all.

next thing you know, time slipped by effortlessly as suhyeok became your constant companion, walking you home with a consistency that was both comforting and thrilling. four weeks passed, each day blending seamlessly into the next as the distance between you and the taller boy grew shorter. with every step, your connection deepened, and your heart began to beat in tandem with his presence. for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the prospect of school no longer filled you with dread. the halls, once a battleground, became a mere backdrop for the quiet moments you shared with suhyeok.

teasing comments and snickers, once a constant hum, faded into insignificance as suhyeok's presence became your shield. his calm and gentle nature was a comfort to your rattled nerves, soothing your fears and quieting your doubts. as the days turned into weeks, your heart, once a heavy burden, began to feel lighter, freer. it was as if suhyeok's presence had given you permission to breathe, to live, and to feel.

a sense of determination washed over you as you stepped into the school's bustling hallways. a single thought consumed your mind: confessing your feelings to suhyeok. the connection you shared had grown too strong to ignore, and you could no longer keep your emotions hidden.

with every step, your heart beat faster, but fear was nowhere to be found. suhyeok's gentle nature had become a sanctuary, a place where you felt safe and understood. the time you spent together had woven a sense of intimacy, making it feel as though you were already inseparable. in your mind, the lines between friendship and something more had blurred, and you couldn't help but wonder if suhyeok felt the same. today, you were ready to find out.

in an empty classroom, you wrote a heartfelt letter to suhyeok, revealing your true feelings. your hands trembled as you poured your emotions onto paper. once finished, you folded the letter and made your way to his locker, where his name was written in beautiful calligraphy. you slipped the letter inside, the soft sound echoing through the silence. in that moment, you felt vulnerable, yet hopeful. you had shared a part of yourself, and now all you could do was wait and wonder if suhyeok felt the same.

hours passed, and the silence was deafening. you couldn't focus in class, your mind wandering to the letter and suhyeok's potential response. as the final bell rang, you gathered your belongings and made your way to your usual meeting spot, wondering if he'd even show up. as you turned the corner, your heart skipped a beat. suhyeok was leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed on yours with an unreadable expression. you felt a flutter in your chest as he pushed off the wall and approached you, the letter clutched in his hand.

"can we talk?" he asked, his voice low and gentle. you nodded shyly, and he led you to a quiet corner of the schoolyard, away from prying eyes. the air was thick with anticipation when he finally looked up, his eyes locked onto yours, and you saw a glimmer of something there, something that gave you hope. just as suhyeok's words hung in the air, a trio of unwelcome figures emerged from the shadows, their presence like a dark cloud. myungwhan, changhoon, and gwinam loomed behind suhyeok, your eyes fixed on the letter in myungwhan’s hand.

your gaze dropped, and your heart sank as you saw the bullies' hands grasping the paper, their faces twisted in disgust. they devoured the words you had poured your heart into, their snickers and snorts piercing the air like daggers. “i never thanked you for being my friend,” he began to read out loud. you shook your head with tears welling in your eyes. this can't be happening, “your kind gestures and gentle words reached a part of me that no one has ever touched.”

the three bullies erupted into a chorus of mocking laughter, their cruel amusement echoing through the schoolyard as they reveled in the intimate words you had shared with suhyeok. the crowd around you grew, drawn in by the spectacle, as myungwhan's voice boomed out, reading your private confession aloud.

"“im grateful to be as close to you now, but some days i wonder if we could be even more,”" he cackled, his voice dripping with derision.

you stood frozen, blinking in shock, as the words you had poured your heart into were used against you. the laughter and snickers of the crowd cut deep, and suhyeok's face twisted in anger, his eyes flashing with a fierce protectiveness.

the moment felt like an eternity, as if time itself had slowed to savor your humiliation. but in the midst of the chaos, suhyeok's words were abruptly silenced as gwinam slung his arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a suffocating grip. "damn y/n.. i know i would call you fag, but for you to actually be one? i mean, what a coincidence right?" gwinam sneered, his voice dripping with spite.

the crowd around you erupted into a murmuring of whispers and snickers, smartphones held aloft like a sea of tiny mirrors reflecting your humiliation. "what a shitty confession, he couldn't even say it to his face.." a voice murmured in the crowd. suhyeok's eyes flashed with anger, his face twisted in a mixture of rage and helplessness as gwinam's grip tightened around him. the scene unfolded like a nightmare, each passing moment a fresh wave of torture.

changhoon's hands closed around your neck like a vice, his smile twisted and sinister as he pulled you into a suffocating chokehold. tears streamed down your face as you struggled to break free, but his grip only tightened.

"i bet you got hard while writing this.." myungwhan's voice dripped with sadistic pleasure as he instructed gwinam to "check", his eyes gleaming with a perverse curiosity. suhyeok's face was a mask of paralysis, his eyes locked on yours for a fleeting moment before he turned away, abandoning you to the mercy of your tormentors. the betrayal stung like a fresh wound, as you realized he wouldn't be coming to your rescue.

"get off me!" you shout, your voice cracking with desperation as gwinam's hands move to unbuckle your belt. "no!" you scream, loud sobs wracking your body. in a surge of adrenaline, you lash out, sending a kick flying into gwinam's face. he stumbles back, blood streaming from his nose. the momentary distraction gives you the leverage you need to elbow changhoon and shove him against the wall.

seizing the opportunity, you grab your backpack and sprint through the crowd, your feet clattering the ground in a frantic bid for escape. you don't stop until you're safely behind the door of your home, where you collapse, exhausted and shaken. the memory of that day haunts you, and you can't bring yourself to return to school. but a week later, a truancy notice arrives, and your father's firm hand forces you back into the very environment you're desperate to escape. the next few months are a blur of isolation, as you struggle to come to terms with the trauma you've endured.

you could never forgive him for setting you up like he did.. so why does your heart break when he's gone now?

a piercing screech shattered the air, jolting you back to reality. you instinctively covered your ear with your one good hand, wincing in pain. then, a voice cut through the chaos, calm and authoritative.

"students and teachers of hyosan high school. i'm park sunhwa, the english teacher. something strange is happening throughout the school. some students are attacking others indiscriminately. so please flee and find a safe place."

a wave of despair washed over the classroom, but the sound of an adult's voice sparked a glimmer of hope. tears of fear and relief streamed down faces as the reality of the situation sunk in. "and if any students or faculty hears this and is able to please call the fire or police department. students, hide somewhere safe until help arrives. if you can get out of the school, please get out." the room erupted into a chorus of sobs and panicked whispers.

joonyeong's voice suddenly speaks up. "its alright, we can just stay in here for now until help comes," he says, but his words are met with skepticism. the group's eyes dart to him, searching for reassurance. meanwhile, you spring into action, scouring the backpacks for anything that might aid in your survival. isak and cheongsan watch with interest, their hushed conversation about onjo's struggles without suhyeok barely audible.

but one phrase catches your attention: "onjo's crush". your gaze drifts to onjo, and you realize that suhyeok's absence has left a void in more ways than one. it seems he had possibly more than one secret admirer. the revelation sparks a flicker of curiosity, but it's quickly extinguished by the gravity of your situation.

your search for supplies yields little more than makeup and secret diaries, which you leave untouched, respecting the privacy of your peers. you know all too well the pain of having your personal life exposed. meanwhile, joonyeong approaches cheongsan, his voice low and cautious. "you know, if y/n hadn't grabbed you back there, you probably would've got attacked." the words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the danger that lurks outside.

cheongsan's glare is immediate, but joonyeong presses on, his tone laced with a mix of sadness and urgency. "im just saying, now would be a great time to make amends. especially with suhyeok gone, we only have us now." the weight of his words settles over the group, a poignant reminder that in the face of adversity, their bonds may be all that remain.

as you continue to rummage through the backpacks, your hands close around a crisp white button-up shirt, its sleeves short. you hold it up, eyes closed, a silent prayer of gratitude escaping your lips. the two boys can't help but stare, their gazes drawn to the simple yet profound moment. "i cant.." cheongsan whispers, his voice barely audible. gyeongsu's curiosity is piqued, and he shifts his attention to cheongsan, sitting down beside him. "why not?" he asks, his eyes darting between cheongsan and you, who continues to search for supplies. "i mean, its not like we have anything else to do," gyeongsu states, his gesture encompassing the desperate scene unfolding before them. his words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of their precarious situation.

cheongsan's gaze lingers on you, a mix of frustration and determination etched on his face. with a sudden burst of energy, he leaps off the table and strides towards you, his movements fluid and purposeful. meanwhile, your search for sustenance yields a disappointing find - a chip bag, already ravaged and empty. you curse under your breath, frustration getting the better of you, before tossing the bag aside.cheongsan's eyes dart back to joonyeong and gyeongsu, seeking reassurance. and he finds it - both boys offer encouraging smiles and thumbs up, a silent show of support that seems to steel cheongsan's resolve.

cheongsan's sigh hangs in the air as he turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours with a hesitant intensity. "hey," he says, his hands still clenched at his sides. you rise to your feet, bracing yourself for another confrontation, but instead, cheongsan's words catch you off guard. "what?" you ask, your tone softening.

"i um, i just wanted to say, thanks. for coming back for me earlier," he confesses, his gaze dropping, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. stunned by his gratitude, you realize that your actions may have saved his life. but then, you recall how he, in turn, saved yours. "lets call it even," you say with a sheepish smile, the tension between you dissipating. "i would've been out there in that hallway still if you hadn't smacked that zombie on the head."

cheongsan's small smile mirrors yours, a fragile truce forming between you. it's a surreal moment, one that makes you realize that near-death experiences can be a powerful catalyst for understanding. you both see each other in a new light - not as enemies, but as humans, with families and loved ones waiting for you at home. you're just kids, after all, fighting to survive in a world gone mad.

as the smiles linger, the atmosphere in the room shifts, becoming less tense. you both stand there for a moment, the only sound being the distant moans and groans of the infected outside.

you nod in agreement, feeling a sense of camaraderie wash over you. "we should keep watching each other's backs." cheongsan nods, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound sense of trust. "sounds good."

in an instant, the calm is shattered by nayeon's urgent voice. "did you get bitten?" she asks, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. isak responds swiftly, her tone laced with a mix of fear and defiance. "i said i wasn't!" your eyes meet cheongsan's, a shared sense of concern sparking between you. you both turn to isak, and your hearts sink.

her nose is smeared with dried blood, and her eyes betray a growing panic. isak rushes to a mirror, her reflection revealing the true extent of her distress. her eyes are bloodshot, protruding slightly, and her entire body begins to tremble. "come on, i-i said im okay!" she shouts, her voice cracking. onjo springs into action, grasping isak's hands in a desperate bid to calm her down. cheongsan and you approach cautiously, your minds racing with the terrible possibility that onjo might be next to fall.

a sense of urgency washes over you as you grasp isak's arms, trying to calm her down. "isak, calm down. it's okay," you say softly, attempting to soothe her growing panic. cheongsan mirrors your actions, gently pulling onjo away from the unfolding chaos. the two friends, once inseparable, are now separated by a growing sense of dread.

onjo struggles against cheongsan's grip, trying to shove him away, but it's too late. isak's body begins to contort, her teeth clenched in a vicious snarl as she crashes to the floor. "she's turning!" wujin's voice rings out, a stark warning that sends a chill through the air.

the echoes of nayeon's scream still linger in the air, but they're quickly replaced by the ominous shuffling of footsteps outside. the zombies, drawn by the commotion, are closing in. the boys spring into action, grasping desks and chairs to barricade the door, their faces set in determined lines. but their efforts may be in vain, as isak, now standing, takes a menacing step forward. her eyes fix on onjo and cheongsan, her chest heaving with ragged breaths.

"isak, please don't do this," onjo begs, her voice trembling, but isak doesn't falter. she charges towards them, only to be repelled by cheongsan, who shoves her away with a wooden stool. you seize the moment, dashing to the window and frantically working to unlock it with one hand. but it's a futile effort - the latch stubbornly refuses to budge, requiring two hands to open. time is running out.

a warning shout pierces the air, "y/n! look out!" and you spin around, heart racing, to see cheongsan launching himself at isak. he shoves her with all his might, and her body sails through the air, heading straight for the window. you drop to the floor, narrowly avoiding the collision, as isak crashes through the glass and disappears outside. but onjo reacts fast, dashing to the window and grasping isak's hand, her fingers closing around it like a vice.

onjos legs flail wildly, and you grab hold, straining to keep her from pulling herself out the window too. cheongsan seizes the wooden stool, his face set in a grimace, and brings it down, hammering isak's hand in a desperate bid to break the grip.

"onjo, you have to let go! she wouldn't want you to throw your life away!" you shout, sweat dripping down your face as you struggle to hold on with one working arm. it's the hardest thing you've done so far, and you're not sure how much longer you can last. the tension is palpable as you feel isak's weight teetering on the edge, and then, in an instant, it's released. cheongsan's swift action has broken the grip, and you hesitantly let go, your body sagging in relief.

you crawl away from the window, drained of all energy, and collapse against the drawers. the solid wood provides a comforting support as you lean against it, exhausted to the core - mentally and physically spent. the ordeal has pushed you to the limit, and for a moment, all you can do is sit there, trying to catch your breath and process what just happened.

onjo's body crumples, and she dissolves into a fit of sobs, curling into a ball as the weight of her grief becomes too much to bear. the room falls silent, with all eyes on her, as the sound of her anguish fills the space. gyeongsu's urgent voice cuts through the moment, "come block the door!" and you spring into action, joining the effort to barricade the entrance against the growing zombie horde. with one hand, you help push the desk into place, securing their safety.

meanwhile, jimin gently lifts onjo into a chair, standing beside her and offering what comfort she can, her hand rubbing her back in soothing circles. hroryeong sits down beside her, tenderly brushing the hair from her face and holding her hand, the two girls enveloping her in a cocoon of support. cheongsan's gaze lingers on onjo, his expression softening, and that's when it hits you - a spark of realization that changes everything.

the pieces fall into place as you realize cheongsan's true feelings for onjo. it's a surprising epiphany, and you can't help but wonder why you didn't see it sooner. his past glares and tense behavior around you and onjo now make sense - he was harboring a secret crush.

a small smile plays on your lips as you think about how unnecessary his worries were. onjo, sweet as she is, never sparked that kind of interest in you. she's not your type, and you're relieved that cheongsan's concerns were unfounded. but now, you're curious to see how this newfound understanding will change the dynamics between you all.

cheongsan's gaze sweeps the room, his eyes lingering on each face before settling on the window. "we should go," he says finally, his voice firm with conviction. "we're not gonna last here any longer." the room falls silent, with all eyes on him, as the weight of his words sinks in. wujin speaks up, her brow furrowed in concern, "where would we even go?" cheongsan's plan is already in motion, it seems. "we could use the hose from earlier," he explains, turning to gyeongsu. "i'll need you to open the door a little bit, just enough to fit the hose."

you stare at him, in disbelief, wondering if he's lost his mind. "cheongsan, what are we gonna do with a hose?" you ask, your voice laced with confusion, as you try to make sense of his seemingly harebrained scheme.

cheongsan's response is a steadfast gaze, his eyes burning with determination. you meet his intensity with a healthy dose of skepticism, rolling your eyes before voicing your doubts. "whatever this is, it better work," you say, your tone laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

as you help gyeongsu clear a path, moving desks and chairs out of the way, you can't help but wonder if cheongsan's plan is nothing more than a desperate gamble. gyeongsu, too, seems uncertain, her voice tinged with reluctance as she slides the door open slowly. "isn't it better to wait for the rescuers to come save us?" he whines, her eyes darting nervously towards the unknown dangers outside.

cheongsan's words are laced with a sobering gravity, his eyes gleaming with a sense of leadership that commands attention. "we might all die by the time they arrive," he states, his tone firm and resolute. in this moment, you know you'll trust him without question, no matter the outcome.

with a deep breath, cheongsan drops to the floor, his belly flat against the ground as he stretches out to reach the hose. but time is of the essence - the zombies outside are a constant threat, and one wrong move could mean disaster. "i can't reach it," he admits, his gaze locking onto yours, a silent plea for help.

you scan the classroom frantically, searching for anything that might bridge the gap between cheongsan's outstretched arm and the elusive hose. your eyes dart from chair to desk, desperate to find a solution before the zombies outside become an even more pressing problem.

in a moment of synchronistic ingenuity, cheongsan darts into the school's lab, mirroring your own train of thought. he rummages through the shelves, his hands moving with a sense of purpose, until he emerges victorious, clutching a mannequin arm. "that's one way to get longer arms," you remark, a hint of amusement dancing in your voice, as cheongsan waves the prosthetic limb at you, his face split by a triumphant grin. you can't help but shake your head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.

but absurd or not, the makeshift solution proves to be a stroke of genius. cheongsan uses the mannequin arm to snag the hose, pulling it towards him with a swift motion, before quickly closing the door and tugging the hose to safety. the plan, however unorthodox, has worked perfectly.

the hose scrapes against the wooden door, its rasping sound filling the air as cheongsan instructs everyone to tie it in a way that can secure a hand or foot. joonyeong chimes in, "zigzag! make it a zigzag," his correction transforming the makeshift rope into a sturdy, climbable fixture. with the rope readied, it's swiftly thrown out the window, the same window that bore witness to isak's tragic demise. you, gyeongsu, and cheongsan cautiously peer out, scanning the area below to see if the rope reaches a safe haven.

daesu, still recovering from his ordeal, can't help but chuckle at the sight of the three of you, "you guys look like the three stooges," he wheezes out, his laughter punctuated by a fit of coughing. but his mirth is short-lived, as a zombie's sudden appearance at the door sends a jolt of fear through the room, and daesu's expression turns grave.

"i'll go down and check the empty rooms," cheongsan declares, his voice firm. "i'll call when it's clear, okay?" the others nod in unison, their faces set with determination. but then, cheongsan's gaze shifts, his eyes locking onto onjo with a fleeting glance that speaks volumes. you catch the look, a subtle exchange that hints at a deeper concern.

"actually, someone else should go," cheongsan says, his tone firm but laced with a hint of protectiveness. wujin nods in agreement, his hand on gyeongsu's back. "you should go, gyeongsu."

gyeongsu's eyes widen in disbelief, his face scrunched up in a comical mix of shock and protest. "what? why me?" he asks, his voice laced with incredulity, as if he can't fathom why he's been chosen for this task.”

"it's alright, i can go," you say, already starting to climb, but wujin's firm hand pushes you back, earning a scathing glare from you. "you can't go!" wujin insists, his eyes darting to gyeongsu, who's still looking uncertain. "look, you're gonna make an injured guy go first?" wujin asks, his tone calling out gyeongsu, as he gestures to your injured state.

gyeongsu mutters a curse under his breath before beginning his descent, his movements cautious and slow. you, wujin, and cheongsan watch anxiously, offering words of encouragement as he makes his way down. just as you're focused on gyeongsu's progress, a sudden hand on your hurt shoulder shoves you aside, making you wince in pain. nayeons determined face appears, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination. "i wanna go down first!" she shouts, her voice firm and resolute. wujin's eyes widen in surprise, his hands gesturing towards your injured form. "hey, what the hell?" he asks, his tone a mix of confusion and concern.

"one person at a time," cheongsan cautions, his voice calm and measured, as he addresses the visibly irritated onjo. "you might fall if it shakes too much." you can't help but think, "should've put her down first...then shook the rope," your muttered remark a silent critique of the situation, accompanied by a withering glare that goes unnoticed in the tension-filled moment.

the air is thick with unspoken frustration, as the group waits with bated breath for gyeongsu to complete his precarious descent, the rope creaking ominously under his weight.

a sudden shout from below electrifies the air - "ms. park is here!" gyeongsu's voice rings out, and you gasp with excitement, your heart racing with hope.

"oh, thank god," you exhale, a sigh of relief washing over you as the weight of their predicament momentarily lifts. cheongsan's voice cuts through the din, his words a rallying cry - "ms. park is on the second floor, let's go, guys!" and with that, the group begins their descent, one by one, down the makeshift rope.

nayeon goes first, followed by daesu, jimin, hroryeong, joonyeong, wujin, namra, and finally onjo. you and cheongsan are the last two left, and your mind is a jumble of thoughts as you help each friend make their way down. but as cheongsan turns to you, his eyes expectant, you realize with a jolt of fear that you can't possibly climb down with one hand. a sense of resignation washes over you, and you prepare to accept your fate, separated from your friends.

"alright, your turn," cheongsan says, his voice firm, but you don't move. instead, you force a smile, trying to mask your growing unease. "you go first," you say, your voice laced with a false bravado, as you desperately try to hide your fear.

just as cheongsan is about to speak, his gaze drops to your arm, visible through the torn shirt. his eyes widen in concern as he takes in the swollen, purplish hue of your injury. but before he can express his worry, you preemptively cut him off, trying to rush him into action. "come on, we don't have much time," you urge, attempting to divert his attention from your injury.

however, cheongsan refuses to be swayed. instead, he gently but firmly passes the rope back to you, his eyes locked on yours with a resolute determination. "no, you go first," he insists, his voice firm but laced with a deep concern. "i'm not gonna leave you behind."

"cheongsan! come on!" gyeongsu's voice echoes from below, urgent and insistent.

cheongsan peers out the window, his head momentarily disappearing from view. "hold on! we're coming!" he shouts down, before turning back to face you. the next few seconds are heavy with unspoken tension, as you both glance behind you, witnessing the ominous sight of chairs crashing to the ground, overwhelmed by the relentless pressure of the zombies. then, without warning, cheongsan grabs your arm, his eyes burning with determination. "now! go!" you urge him, but he resists, his grip tightening.

"wait," he says, his voice low and resolute. "i'll go first, but come right after me. i can lead your foot to the next loop. it'll be easy, but we gotta get out of here fast. we need you, y/n, you can't end it like this." his words are laced with a deep conviction, a refusal to leave you behind.

to say your eyes watered at his words was an understatement - they welled up with emotion, threatening to spill over at the sincerity and conviction in cheongsan's voice.

"fuck it. let's go," you say, a fierce tenacity feeling within you. you both nod, a silent understanding passing between you. cheongsan swiftly begins his descent, waiting for you below. but just as you start to climb out the window, the sound of desks crashing to the ground echoes through the lab, followed by the ominous scuttling of zombies as they claw their way into the now-empty room. you hastily swing one leg over the windowsill, cheongsan guiding the other as it searches for a foothold. "next step, y/n, let's go!" he urges, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. your arm protests with a sharp cramp, strained from holding your weight so tightly against the wall, but you grit your teeth, refusing to give in to the pain.

as you start your descent down the ladder, a sudden, terrifying sight makes your heart skip a beat - a bloodied girl leaps out of the window above, plummeting towards the ground. in a desperate bid to eat something, she grabs onto cheongsan's leg, causing the entire rope to shudder and sway precariously. "cheongsan! hold on!" you scream in horror, as cheongsan slides down the rope, his grip faltering.

frantically, you scan your surroundings for something, anything, to help, but you're utterly hopeless. you're powerless to intervene, unable to do anything but watch in despair.

"shit, try to shake her off!" you shout down to cheongsan, your voice laced with desperation. cheongsan grunts in effort, trying to dislodge the girl, but her grip is unnaturally strong, refusing to yield.

thats when you hear a familiar deep voice, “cheongsan-ah!” you look upward to see lee-fucking-suhyeok on top of a window ledge above where you both had just climbed down from. you looked up at him with relief, “suhyeok!”

[thespidersabdomen]

The Night's Improvement (Chrollo x Reader)

Excerpt smut piece, not full story,

Prompt: Sis gets called into Chrollo's room, and they end up getting deeply aquainted Pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.4k TW: unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), penetrative sex, hair tugging, dubcon, praise kink, multiple orgasms, smut below the cut

“What do you mean? I trust you…” You lean forward into him, and he leans into you, closing the gap with a light kiss. He pulls away for a moment,

“Good… Now let’s make your night a lot better”

As soon as your lips hit his again, you melt into him. He reaches behind him and slips off his coat, letting it fall to the ground next to him, and he shifts his position, grips your hips, and scoots you up higher on the bed. You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him closer. He deepens the kiss but quickly gets bored of just your lips, he craves your touch, and he’s gonna take it. He begins to give your neck attention, searching for the spot you’re most sensitive in, and rest assured… he finds it. You grip the back of his head and tug on his hair, and your hips unintentionally roll up into his, eliciting a small groan from him. He breaks away from your neck, that’s become red and shiny from the marks and saliva he left and hooks his finger over the hem of your pants, looking up to meet your eyes once more. 

“Is this okay?” Once you give your nod of approval, he pulls them down, and unbuttons your body suit, making quick work of discarding it. Your thighs can’t help but close as a natural reaction to the cold air hitting your heat, and even though the action is small, it worries Chrollo at first. He quickly looks up to check your facial expression, and once he finds no reluctancy aimed towards him, he relaxes and guides your thighs back open with a firm grip. He brings one hand down to trace the outside of your sex, spreading the slick around, and tracing small circles over your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to keep your voice in, as his hand slips a bit lower, and he inserts his middle finger into your velvety walls. He pushes in and out a few times before pulling it out and adding a finger. He takes his time feeling the space inside of you, leaning down to kiss you while he does. Though he can feel how you’re more than ready for him, he keeps his digits buried deep inside you for a minute more, but when your back arches up off the mattress and your legs spasm from the pleasure, he knows he found what he was looking for. He picks up the pace of his fingers, and curls them upward to hit that spot with every thrust, and bends his thumb over to resume the once paused electric bursts of pleasure from your bundle of nerves. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” You bite your bottom lip, squeeze your eyes shut, and continue to squirm uncontrollably beneath him. You begin to feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten, and soon enough you’re cumming around his fingers. He pumps his digits in and out a few more times before pulling out, and bringing them up to his mouth. 

“So sweet… How fitting. You did so well for me just now,” He kisses your temple, while he pushes his own pants down, freeing his aching erection 

“Please open your eyes…” he brings his right hand up to cup the side of your face and redirects your towards his, while lazily stroking, then lining up his cock to your entrance with his left hand 

“Look at me while I pound your pussy” and with that, he begins to slide his cock into your heat, 

“So tight, I thought the prep would’ve helped at least a bit…” He looks down to you, and a short-lived wave of concern hits him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, and your teeth are gritted, but to you, the stretch is merely a temporary discomfort compared to the pleasure quickly kicking in. 

“More… Please, Chrollo more ” You beg, your eyes are half-lidded and a bit teary from your previous orgasm, your cheeks are red, and sweat is beading on your forehead. From Chrollo’s perspective, you were fucking beautiful like this, how could he say no to a sight so lovely? 

“Of course love,” He bucks his hips forward, forcing the rest of his length into you, and your head falls back from the feeling of his tip colliding with your cervix. He successfully buried himself as deep as possible into your fleshy walls. Your pussy pulsed around him, clenching as he pulled back, before thrusting his hip back into yours, drawing out a moan from you that can’t be described as anything but pornographic. He was addicted . This would not be a one-time thing. He drew back his hips once again, brushing past your g-spot before retracing it on his way back in. His pace continued for a few more thrusts, but it got fast quickly. As he continued, his thrusts were short, though he continued to hit with the same force that he would as if he pulled out all the way. Every thrust he makes, every time he pushes into you, you let out an equally deep moan. Every pretty sound coming from your pretty mouth, sounds like music to his ears, how you’re vocalizing the way he makes you feel, how you’re unconcerned with volume, it’s not like you could hold them in any way. Everything about you right now, he finds absolutely mesmerizing. He reached down, his thumb returning to its rightful place, doing its rightful job, causing your back to arch off the mattress. He leaned his head down and placed a sloppy kiss to your jaw, before speaking

“You look beautiful like this… Me inside of you, you’re taking me so well… Tell me, pretty girl, do you feel as good as you look?” His tone was lower than his usual gentle one. He could tell you enjoyed it when he talked to you by the way you clenched around him. You’d been close for a while, and his words are on the verge of pushing you over the edge, and you’re not the only one who could feel it

“Go on baby, cum around my cock,” Your toes curled and your eyes rolled back before getting squeezed shut, your mouth was agape and your nails clawed crescents into the skin of his nape. As sure as his words, you were hit with yet another soul shattering orgasm, that left you muttering and mumbling incoherent nonsense, the only understandable thing that fell from your lips was his name, followed by raspy moans and choked whimpers. 

“I’m getting close…” He pants, his deep groans and heavy breathing increases as he feels his own release quickly approaching. You notice the stutter in his rhythm, and his thrusts getting sloppier but faster. Chasing his own release, he uses his hands to shift his weight onto the back of your knees, widening your legs, and pushing them as close as possible to the sides of your head attempting to go deeper into you, which isn’t easy since he’s been there for a while now. Your climax had just finished ebbing away, though the tingle in your flesh stayed due to the overstimulation he’s causing you to feel. You looked up at the man above you, he was panting, the sweat on his forehead causing his hair to stick to it, his usually pale complexion was pink from his cheeks to the tip of his nose, yet his vibe remained magnetizing. You tighten the grip your arms have on his neck and upper shoulder, and pull him down, his lips crashing into yours, which he gratefully embraces by cupping both sides of your face. Just as you do, you feel his dick twitch inside you, and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist, preventing him from pulling out, and wanting nothing more than for him to paint your insides, which he does. You feel his warm seed fill you as he grinds his hips into yours. You feel each rope of cum, along with each wave of his pleasure being released inside of you. A moment or two passes, before he falls into you, his cock beginning to soften inside of you, and he rests his head against your chest. You play with his hair as he lays peacefully against you, basking in the feeling of your soothing touch, after a while though, you fell asleep.

[why-bless-your-heart]

could you pray for me? i'm a christian and i know that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem but. oh man. my chronic health has become more intrusive, interfering with everything. i've been feeling like such a burden and a problem for months now (i mean, more than i already was) and the idea of killing myself keeps popping up in my head, that i'll be healed in heaven, that i won't be suffering anymore, etc. and it's so hard to redirect because i am suffering, there's no guaranteed solution, and i can't shake the feeling that my presence is just causing problems for the people i love...

I’m praying.

Also, as someone with loved ones who have serious and unpleasant incurable conditions, the problems you cause are worth it. Having you for one more year, one more month, week, day, hour is worth it. I’m sorry you feel like a burden, but even if you are, being a burden does not mean that anyone is better off without you.