#submitted oneshot

[ateezscupid]

Can I request an Chan-Young × reader. Anything is fine

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫. ☆

warnings ✩ fluff and angst (deadly combo), fem/afab reader SHE/HER PRONOUNS USED!!, reader's age is somewhere between 18 and 20 since I don't know how old chan-young is exactly, kind of grumpy x sunshine mixed with love at first sight trope, love isn't necessarily mentioned but kind of implied(?), reader is a monster like hyun-soo, injured reader

tags ✩ @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan

SWEET HOME MASTERLIST / REQUEST

Chan-young took a deep breath as the dusty air filled his lungs. The world outside was a silent pattern of desolation. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the occasional groan of a distant monster, a reminder of the horrors that had befallen the city. He squinted through the shattered storefronts, his eyes scanning the desolate streets for any signs of life, but all he could see was the detritus of a civilization that had once thrived here.

"So sick of this." Yeong-hoo groans. The heavy rucksack digs into his shoulders, the weight of supplies and ammo a constant reminder of their urgent mission. They were on their way to the hospital, racing against time to save their injured comrade, and every second counted.

Chan-young nods, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "We're almost there. Stay alert." His voice is low but firm, the authority of a leader echoing in his tone despite the exhaustion etched into his face. The group trudges onward, the rhythmic patter of their boots on the cracked pavement syncing with the erratic beating of their hearts.

A sudden rustling from the abandoned shopping center to their left makes Chan-young's senses sharpen. He raises a hand, signaling the others to halt. They obey, their eyes following his as he points to the source of the noise. It's coming from a convenience store, its door hanging open like a mouth mid-scream. He looks back at the group, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "We need to check it out."

The other soldiers grumble but fall in line behind him as he cautiously approaches the entrance. The shop's interior is cast in a gloomy twilight, the only light filtering through the shards of the broken windows. The shelves are bare, their contents long ago looted by desperate survivors or destroyed in battles with the monsters that now roam free.

As they advance into the store, the rustling grows louder, more insistent. Chan-young's hand tightens around the grip of his gun, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow. His heart hammers in his chest, anticipating the worst. But what he finds instead stops him in his tracks.

In the far corner of the store, huddled behind an overturned counter, is you. You look up at them with wide, terrified eyes, your whole body trembling like a leaf in a storm. Your clothes are torn and stained, your hair matted with dirt and fear. You're clutching a makeshift weapon, a broken chair leg as if it could protect you from the nightmares that lurk outside.

"Don't come closer," you whisper, your voice shaking. "Please."

Chan-young motions for the others to stay back, his instincts telling him that you're not a threat. He approaches you slowly, speaking in a soothing tone. "It's okay. We're not here to hurt you. We're just passing through." Your grip on the chair leg tightens, but you don't move. Your eyes, however, never leave him, searching his face for any hint of deceit.

Yeong-hoo's eyes don't leave you, his grip never loosening on the gun in his hands. As he examined you, he noticed a few cuts on your body, and when looking closer, he saw one of your eyes was black. "Shit!" he lifts his gun and aims immediately. "You're one of them!"

Chan-young reacts fast, slapping the barrel of Yeong-hoo's gun to the side. "Hold your fire! She’s human!"

"No, she isn't, look at her eye! And there's blood under her nose!" Yeong-hoo's voice is sharp with alarm.

Chan-young's eyes dart to your face, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of your injuries. "We don't know that," he says, his voice tight. "Let's just get you to come with us."

You flinch at the sound of raised voices, and the trembling in your hand intensifies. You clutch the chair leg closer to your chest, your eyes flickering between the soldiers and the door as if weighing your chances of escape.

"We don't have time for this," another soldier interjects. "We have to get to the hospital."

Chan-young hesitates, his gaze flickering to you and then back to his comrades. He knows they're right, but something about your situation pulls at his heartstrings. "We can't just leave her here," he says firmly. "We'll be quick, just make sure she’s okay."

Your eyes widen further as the soldiers close in, your grip on the chair leg tightening until your knuckles are white. You try to shrink away, but there's nowhere left to go. "P-please," you stammer, "I'm not… I'm not one of them." You had to lie to protect yourself.

Chan-young steps closer, his hand outstretched. "We're here to help," he assures you. "We're on a mission to the hospital. You can come with us."

For a moment, you seem to consider it. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, you swing the chair leg at them. It's a clumsy, desperate move, but it's enough to make the soldiers step back. You scramble to your feet, ready to run, but a wave of dizziness crashes over you. You sway, barely managing to stay upright.

"Damn it," Yeong-hoo mutters, his finger twitching on the trigger.

"Hold your fire," Chan-young snaps, stepping in front of you. "We're not leaving anyone behind." He looks back at the group. "We need to move fast. We'll take her with us."

The soldiers exchange uncertain glances, but they know better than to argue with their leader. They quickly move to help you, who is now leaning heavily against the counter, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Your one good eye is filled with a mix of fear and defiance as you look up at them.

As they gently guide you out of the store, you glance back at your hiding spot. It had been your sanctuary for days, the only place you felt somewhat safe from the monsters that had taken over the city. Now you were leaving it behind, entrusting your fate to strangers with guns.

They make their way through the shopping center, stumbling with every step. Your body is a patchwork of bruises and cuts, a testament to your desperate fight for survival. The soldiers' eyes are glued to their surroundings, ready to protect their new charge.

The hospital looms in the distance, a beacon of hope amidst the ruin. The journey there is fraught with tension, the constant threat of monsters lurking around every corner. You clutch onto Chan-young's arm, your trembling subsiding only slightly. You can't shake the feeling that you've made a terrible mistake.

As they approach the hospital, the sounds of battle grow louder. The air is thick with the smell of smoke and fear. The group picks up their pace, the weight of their mission pressing down on them like a heavy burden.

"We're almost there," Chan-young murmurs to you, his voice filled with a mix of reassurance and urgency. "Stay close."

You nod, your eyes never leaving his. Despite your fear, you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you'd make it through this hell alive.

Hours later…

They arrive back at the safe zone, having been unable to save their soldier. Everyone goes back to their stations while Chan-young takes you to the medical ward with Yeong-hoo silently trailing behind them, the gravity of their situation sinking in. He helps you onto a bed, your legs giving way with fatigue.

You were silent, avoiding eye contact and still trembling.

"What's your name?" Chan-young asked, his voice gentle. You didn't reply. "…How old are you, at least?"

You still didn't answer. This was going to take a while. Chan-young sighs and bites the inside of his cheek. "Are you at least 18? Or over 18? I need to know."

Your trembling stops for a moment, and you look up at him with a spark of anger in your one good eye. "Fine! Yes!" you snap. "I'm over 18! Does that make a difference?"

"N-No, I just-" he shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. Are you hurt anywhere? I can fix you up." Your expression softens slightly as you nod.

"Okay, where are they?" he asks. You point to your bruised ribs and the gash on your forehead, wincing at the touch.

With practiced hands, Chan-young starts cleaning the wounds, his movements efficient and gentle. You flinch at first, but his calm demeanor soon soothes you. "You're safe here," he says, his voice low and steady. "We're going to take care of you."

As he works, he tells you about the safe zone, about the other who have banded together to survive. He tries to keep the conversation light, steering clear of the grim realities of their world. You listen, your breathing growing calmer with each passing moment.

"Y/N." You blurt out.

"What?"

"My name is Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Chan-young. That's Yeong-hoo over there." He nods towards the other soldier who's keeping a wary eye on you.

You glance at Yeong-hoo, then back at Chan-young. "What's his problem?" you whisper.

Chan-young sighs. "He thinks you're…y'know, a monster. You're not, right?" He says it with a soft tone, hoping to ease your nerves.

Your breath catches, glancing at Yeong-hoo in the corner. "Is he gonna kill me if I say yes…?"

Chan-young shakes his head, applying a bandage to your forehead. "You're human, aren't you?"

You hesitate before shaking your head no. "I'm human, but…monster too…I guess?" you whisper, your voice shaking slightly.

Chan-young's hands pause in their work, his eyes meeting yours with a flicker of confusion. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep, shaky breath and start to explain. You tell them about your transformation, about the hunger that had taken over your body and mind, the power that had turned you into something else. The fear in your voice is palpable, and Yeong-hoo's grip on his gun tightens.

"Like that one monster that escaped?" Yeong-hoo interjects. You stare at him, nodding. "Huh. So, you're a mutant?"

"It's complicated," you whisper, looking down at your hands.

"Well, you're safe here," Chan-young says firmly. "We've got others like you. We're all just trying to survive." He continues to dress your wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his rough exterior.

"But, can I control it?" you ask, your voice barely audible.

"You'll learn," he reassures you. "We've got people who can help you. We've seen some turnback. It's not easy, but it's possible."

Yeong-hoo snorts from his corner, not convinced.

Chan-young glances at him, then back at you. "Don't worry about him. We're all in this together." He finishes bandaging your ribs and moves to your bruised shoulder.

"I'll find you a room." Yeong-hoo says before walking out.

You wince as he touches the tender area, but you don't pull away. You tell them about your life before the apocalypse, your family, your dreams. It's a stark contrast to the monstrous world outside, and for a brief moment, they all forget the horror that awaits them.

As he applies the final bandage, Chan-young notices the way your skin seems to be knitting itself back together. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but it's there. He looks at you questioningly. "How long have you had these…abilities?"

You look away, your voice small. "Since the outbreak. I got a really bad nosebleed…I thought I was going to die."

Chan-young's heart clenches at the pain in your voice. He'd heard similar stories before, but each one hit him like a punch to the gut. He finishes up and stands, looking down at you with a mix of pity and admiration. "You're strong, Y/N," he says. "Stronger than you think."

You look up at him, your eyes wet with unshed tears. "Thanks," you murmur.

Chan-young nods, examining your features. He couldn't deny that you were super pretty. Your eyes were the same color as the sea under a stormy sky, and your hair was a messy halo around your face. Despite the dirt and the bruises, you had a certain…fragility about you. He sighs, focusing back on your wounds.

"You're going to feel a little sting," he warns, pouring alcohol onto a cloth. You bite your lip, your eyes squeezed shut as he gently cleans the gash on your forehead. You wince but don't make a sound.

"You're doing great," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your fear. You open your eyes to find him smiling at you, and you can't help but smile back.

Yeong-hoo returns with a blanket and a pillow, tossing them onto the bed without a word. He still didn't trust you, but for now, he'd follow Chan-young's lead. "You can sleep here," he says, his voice gruff.

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," Chan-young says. "We've got enough beds. We're not savages."

You nod, the tension in your shoulders easing. You're so tired, you could sleep on the floor if you had to, but the bed seems like a luxury you haven't had in an eternity.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Don't mention it," he says, patting your hand. "Get some rest. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."

As you lie down, you can't help but feel a sense of relief. Before falling asleep, you sit back up. "Chan-young?"

"Yes?" He's already by the door, about to leave.

"Um," you sniffle. "Can you, um…" you start but trail off.

"What is it?" he asks his hand on the door handle.

You take a deep breath and swallow your pride. "Could you…could you stay here with me? Just for tonight?"

Chan-young's expression softens. He understands your fear, the feeling of being in a new place filled with unfamiliar faces. He nods and pulls up a chair beside the bed. "I'll stay."

The room falls into silence, save for the distant cries of monsters and the occasional footstep outside. You feel the warmth of his presence beside you, a comforting weight in the heavy darkness. You close your eyes, willing yourself to relax.

"Chan-young?" you whisper, your voice shaking.

"Yeah?"

"What if I turn?" The words hang in the air, thick with fear.

He looks at you, his eyes filled with a strange mix of sadness and determination. "We'll deal with it," he says. "Together."

You nod, taking solace in his words. You know he can't guarantee anything, but the promise is enough for now.

The night stretches out before them, filled with uncertainty and the ever-present danger that lurks just beyond the walls of their haven. But for this one moment, with the gentle hum of life-support machines in the background, you feel a semblance of peace.

Your eyes grow heavy, lulled by the rhythmic breathing of the soldier beside you. Despite the chaos outside, you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you've found a place where you can belong, where you can learn to live with the monster inside you without fear of rejection or death.

As you drift off to sleep, you don't know what the future holds. But for tonight, you're safe. And that's enough.

[cute-girls-from-vns-anime-manga]

[nikholascrow]

whisper - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 902

Tw: physical abuse / parental abuse

(he gets comforted i swear)

Sirius was having a nightmare again. It seemed like he was always having those nowadays ever since he’d left Regulus in that house, even if he had his brother back now he couldn’t shake the fear, the guilt.

He was huddled in a corner of the kitchen shielding regulus from view as best he could as their faceless mother screamed. flashes of light bounced around the room

“SELFISH. UNGRATEFUL. DISGUSTING CHILD.” she howled every word punctuated by a flash of light.

Each spell missed, her focus disrupted by her anger, eyes wild with rage. Usually she was quiet when she was angry, cold, steely, and cruel. Tonight was different, tonight was red hot and desperate. Another flash of light and he was struck by searing pain, his vision went white hot. Someone screamed he couldn’t tell if it was him or Regulus. there was nothing but pain. endless unbearable pain.

his eyes flew open and he sat up straight, cold sweat dripping down his neck and back. Sirius drew in a shaky breath and pulled his knees up against his chest. He was in the Potter’s house, Regulus was just down the hall, they were safe, they were fine. Despite the fact that he knew his brother was fast asleep and completely safe, Sirius pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed tiptoeing out of his room and down the empty hall. Regulus’ door creaked open quietly and there he was, in bed with James curled around him smiling softly in his sleep, Sirius smiled too. He eased shut the door and stood there, one hand on the doorknob.

“Pads?” Sirius jumped Remus had somehow managed to silently creep out of his room into the hallway

“Jesus christ moony-“ Sirius hissed just above a whisper “what the hell are you doing up?”

Remus raised an eyebrow “I have a better question, why did I wake up at two in the fucking morning to you blundering down the hallway?” Remus didn’t look annoyed, just concerned.

Damn his incredibly pretty best friend and his extra sensitive werewolf senses. “Just checking on Reg and Prongs, someone had to make sure they were keeping it pg” Sirius forced a grin but it didn’t do much to hide the way his bloodshot eyes avoided his friend’s gaze.

“Another nightmare?” Remus asked softly it wasn’t really a question he already knew the answer but sirius nodded anyway. “wanna sleep with me tonight?”

“yes please-“ his voice was barely above a whisper but Remus seemed to hear him loud and clear.

Sirius followed Remus into his bedroom and slipped into bed next to him. He felt so small and weak in the big bed like he was sinking into the mattress and it would swallow him whole, then strong arms wrapped around him and the feeling evaporated. He buried his head in Remus’ chest and Remus ran his fingers through Sirius’ dark curls.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Remus asked softly it wasn’t demanding, it wasn’t required, it was a simple invitation, and it meant the world to Sirius.

Sirius shook his head gently

“You didn’t deserve it, Pads, whatever she did, neither of you deserved that.” Sirius’ bloodshot eyes were becoming glossy with tears again.

Sirius just buried his face deeper into Remus’ sweater and Remus’ free hand began tracing stars on his back. It calmed him and his eyes began to flutter as Remus whispered comforting words to him that contrasted the screams he’d woken up to. He drifted off to sleep in the arms of his best friend and the boy he loved.

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

[yanderecandystore]

When the victim snaps

Male reader x yandere male bullies x yandere delinquent where male reader finally snaps at the male bullies and gives them a taste of their own medicine but nobody does anything to stop the male reader and the male reader goes to the male delinquent and has a heart to heart with him. Please and thank you.

[🍒🆚🍋] First delinquent introduction.

[🔥📣😑] Reader beats the bullies.

[💪💀🤟] Another one where reader beats them up.

[🌶️🧯😭] They get pepper sprayed by the reader (lmao).

Damn, they don't seem to catch a break, huh? I wonder how they feel about getting beaten up like this so often…🤔

This shit is a bit of a wild ride lmao, read at your own caution.

TW/Tags: There is a scene of a character destroying the area around them in a fit of rage, it could be triggering to anyone who has been in that situation before // Heart to heart conversation with an ex bullying victim // I'm telling you now, shit hits the fan at the end really badly (soft moment turns into very dark fit of rage) //mentions of: Bullying; victim blaming; past trauma; trauma bonding; burned skin (water burn); cursing; yelling at the reader; bruises/injuries; attempt to kill the reader; strangling; a very short fight; insecurities (inferiority complex, reader constantly feels weak) // corny and not proofread // Word Count: 6,483

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Someone who knows. [Yandere!Delinquent!Male!Oc x Bullied!Male!Reader - Oneshot]:

It wasn't something you ever did before, you never actually thought you were capable of doing something like that.

His laughter was probably the worst, because it felt that even in the safety of your home you weren't really safe. You could still hear his mockery, you could still feel the tingling sensation of your nose hitting the floor after being pushed around.

You could still hear Adrien yelling curses at you in the corridors while he gained a little audience watching you be tormented, you could still hear the nasty things he would tell you in private.

You're worthless, you're weak, you don't belong here, freak.

You're gorgeous like this, you're the answer to all this hell, you're too good to be real, freak.

Shoving him wasn't enough, telling him to stop, to leave you alone, wasn't enough. Saying you weren't interested wasn't enough.

You tried to ask for outside help, yet no one was able to properly help you… They all knew better than to mess with a Coldwell. Adrien would spend a few days ignoring you after being called out by a teacher, but he would be back at it with no remorse, feeling insulted that you had someone come over and mess with your "alone time" with him.

That's probably why you never asked for help, along with other reasons… It was insufferable having to deal with him in his little "jealousy" moments.

It was sickening. To have him act like you were a worm and then stare at you with those crazed eyes, hoping, yearning, eagerly waiting for you to reciprocate the violent feelings he felt for you. And in a way, you did…

But it wasn't with his burning passion and desire, it was with hate. Isn't this what he wanted?

Well clearly not. After a very uncomfortable situation behind campus, all alone with no one to see him forcing himself on you, you did the unimaginable-

You kneed him in the gut with enough strength to cause him to loosen his grip on you, but with that one hit, you started a fight that only aided in your own demise. With every hit you gave you received back in double, you don't know how the situation went from him forcing you to kiss him to now being beaten up by this lunatic.

It was like a dance of two imbeciles hitting each other senselessly, it was him trying to gain control of the situation, and you, trying to escape it out together.

The best part was knowing that despite his arrogant persona, despite his harsh words and constant need to reaffirm his position over you- You knew he was falling apart quickly. He wasn't acting like his usual calm persona anymore, he was acting like a wild animal as he threw you in the ground and got on top of you, seeing only red. You felt tempted into mocking him, but it felt really hard to say anything, he was squeezing your throat a little too hard considering the last time he did it.

Well, as disgustingly as it sounds, you bet he did it to get off in some sort of kink he had, you remember seeing how shiny his eyes looked as he strangled you for the first time, forcing you to say "I'm sorry for being a brat, Adrien!". All words coated in heavily fake submissive sweetness to the point of causing his teeth to rot- Just like he always wanted to hear.

But today he didn't feel like his usual self, his nails were clawing the skin of your throat with the actual threat of cutting it open. You started to find it hard to breathe.

Would it be too pathetic of you to call quits now? Was dying more honorable than giving up right now and trying to please the beast before it was too late?

"A-A- Ad-rien- S-S-Sor-" You tried, but the words weren't leaving your mouth, stuck at your throat just like all that sweet air you were already missing.

While you were starting to sober up from your adrenaline high he was still very much on it, he wasn't letting you go like he usually would at this time.

Normally, he would leave you almost unconscious, he liked to force you into getting dizzy so he could help you stand up and lead you to the way of his house…

Ah, what fun times. One of the many reasons why no one believed you was because you two were always seen together, hanging out at each other's houses- After all, it's normal for men to fight to the death like this, right? Totally just two bros chilling in the cold ground, 0 feet apart because they're not (gay) killing each other!

You were not feeling him loosen his grip at all… He didn't even seem to recognize you as, well, you. You couldn't breathe, and you were starting to see black around your vision, was this how you were going to go?

You fought back to the best you could, clawing his arms and trying to hit his face despite the uncomfortable closeness, he seemed to get more irritated with every meek hit you gave.

"I don't want to hear a word from you that isn't sorry. You better have a good apology for what you just did!" He said through locked teeth, fuming at the idea that you could have rejected him (again).

Today was an unusual day… Instead of going back to your puppy eyes, filled with remorse and fear of hurting his feelings- You stared at him with the same disgust you had when beating his ass. No fear, no guilt, not even sadness. Just anger, disgust. Might as well die with dignity today.

"This is your fault, if you just- If you just listened to me…"

He was starting to get lost at your lack of response. Or rather, your lack of submission to his madness, you haven't realized it before but- Was he always so dependent on your response to his abuse, to continue to do so..?

I mean, it probably was the lack of oxygen going to your brain, but you could have sworn he was starting to loosen his grip with the more you stared at him like that, so you continued to do so.

He tried to gain back his control, albeit to no success.

"You… You're too weak, you know that right?... If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't survive out there…!" Would you? Sometimes you don't know. He was right about the weak part, sure, in comparison to him… But if this was "living" then you didn't want to be a part of it at all.

"S-Stop staring at me like that-" Adrien let go of your throat to pull at his own hair, you took the opportunity to kick him off you after noticing you could breathe again.

You gasped for air and held your aching throat as if it was torn apart, and considering his sharp nails felt like little knives you wouldn't be surprised if they did cut your skin.

Adrien clinged to his stomach, you managed to hit him twice in the same place and it was clearly not going well for him. He was out of his little murderous rage for now, he stared at you still mad, obviously.

Although, somehow, despite everything he seemed a little more confused than actually really, truly mad with you. He was trying to get back to you, he would make you pay for what you did and what you said, and yet you didn't back down this time.

"I hate you!" It was simple, perhaps a little too on the nose… It somehow made him stop in his tracks. Okay, your voice sounded really awful and was coming out very dryly- It lacked the initial punch you thought it would have for finally telling him the obvious.

Still, his expression when you said that almost made you start laughing hysterically, his pained voice was the cherry on the cake of dumbfuckery.

"What… Did you say?.."

"Oh, I'll gladly repeat myself- I. Fucking, Hate you, Coldwell. And I'm done with your little games." You stepped forward, letting out all that you thought about him, you strided with confidence despite your aching, well, everything!

It was like seeing someone learn that actions had consequences for the first time, and you despised how his eyes seemed so genuinely hurt- How could he feel like the victim when he literally almost killed you?!

"Come on, where's all that fire you had five seconds ago? Where's the whole "I'll put you in place" shit you ALWAYS put me through? SPEAK UP-" Yeah, you don't know what came over you but, seeing him being the one to step backwards and cower from the shouting for once was pretty fucking magical- Especially since you were done with being in his position for so long.

You shoved him away when he tried to touch your arm, maybe it was a bit unnecessary but you wanted to make your point clear.

"Don't mess with me again, I'm not being your little toy anymore. I want you gone, out of my life." You said as you walked away, losing your balance ever so slightly after being kicked in the legs a few times.

He didn't dare to move, he fell to his knees as he watched you leave him behind, mentally spiraling at what you said.

Honestly, when looking back at him you almost felt pity for the way he looked lost, genuinely scared of you… But you knew better than to trust his pitiful eyes, trusting him would only lead you to your death, literally!

You lived in a not-so-welcoming part of town, the complete opposite side of his prestigious little habitat- And after things started to get worse you started to really appreciate your neighborhood for being a dangerous and very unpleasant place. It protected you from rich snobby people like him, and that's something you would always be thankful for.

You walked away a winner…? The sinking feeling in your stomach made you feel uneasy, there would obviously be consequences to your actions today… But damn, didn't it feel good to not be the only one going home wounded? Why did you feel so worried still?

Things weren't always so gruesome between you two, at first he would just throw casual insults or maybe put mean notes in your backpack, but after a few weeks he started to get ridiculously violent.

Shoving you down stairs after you said something mean in return, pulling your hair whenever you ignored him, attacking your insecurities upfront whenever you tried to have conversations with anyone, he even started to force you to spend time with him at his house- Which was somehow worse than being beaten up.

Being forced to stay in his room, while he went on his meltdowns over you not loving him like you should… Oh, how evil of you, not reciprocating his disgusting kisses after he slapped you over and over again- Yeah, right.

He was getting desperate, you knew that much, you didn't know why he suddenly went from a stereotypical bully to a creepy, dangerous stalker wanting to be your "boyfriend".

But things seemed to be going better for you now, at least in your neighborhood. You made an odd friend a few weeks ago, before things had gone to shit-

The fucked up part was that sometimes the things he would tell you, would end up being drilled into your head… Were you really being a bad person for rejecting him? Did you really deserve to be treated like this for rejecting him..? No…. Of course not… But sometimes that was hard to remember.

"Jesus Christ, you dumbass- What the hell did you do now?"

He found you once after you first got beaten up by Adrien, and ever since he sort of welcomed you inside his apartment, and he was always there to patch up your wounds.

Not without yelling at you first, of course.

"Sigh… It was that guy again… But it's fine, I'm fine…" Your throat was sore, the blood in your tongue was making it feel really dry. You craved water badly right now.

"What-" But before you could figure out what he was going to ask, you almost fell in front of him, losing the strength in your legs.

"Sigh... Come on, get inside already." He helped you get inside his apartment, well, technically it was sort of an abandoned building- It was turned into the safe ground of his little crew…

"S-Sorry.."

You sometimes wished you could be part of his gang, you expressed your interest to him many times yet he always told you no… It didn't seem right to him to let you in.

Was it because you were weak? Maybe you just wanted somewhere else to be with other people who wouldn't be Adrien. Even now your mind isn't entirely free of him, despite you physically being hidden from him.

You doubt a Coldwell would ever be interested in coming to a place like this, let alone to find you… You doubt Adrien would follow you here just to get back at you for your "disrespect", but then again, he has done a lot of crazy shit in the past few weeks.

"So… Are you going to stop with the mystery and tell me what's going on?" He wasn't the sweetest person ever, he wasn't exactly a good communicator, but this is the third time you show up with so many bruises, this has been going on for way too long, it shouldn't even be happening in the first place! And yet you still haven't told him exactly what he wanted to hear… Who, what, and when.

Jack helped you sit on his couch, the smell of mold that usually revolted you, was at least helping you feel more relaxed. His place usually brought you the sense of tranquility, which was weird considering you could hear people screaming occasionally around these parts, and you knew Jack wasn't exactly a saint by any means- But still, considering every other aspect in your life has been taken over by someone else, his apartment and presence alone made you feel a lot safer and "welcomed" than in your own house.

And you knew it left him feeling incapable of really understanding you, helping you.

Jack got up with a "tch", irritatedly walking away from you- Oh, there it is again, the usual routine: You first avoid telling him what happened, and he reacts by storming off into aggressively making something for you to drink or eat.

"Sorry, I'm just feeling a little dazed-" It was half true, considering Adrien not only almost strangled you to death but you were also starting to feel the headaches coming in.

It was his way of not throwing a tantrum by throwing a tantrum- Ah, but who you were kidding you knew he was very pissed off by your secrecy.

You weren't hiding Adrien's identity from Jack out of respect or "fear" for Adrien's well-being, but rather Jack's health and status being compromised by something that he isn't even a part of.

You were scared of what Jack would've ended up doing, you knew him for only a few weeks yet you already knew well enough to know things would get drastically serious- If the rumors were true, he would end up leaving Adrien in a hospital if not straight up sending him into a cemetery. Of course, you don't think he would go so far considering you're basically a stranger to him, but who knew, Jack was known for being quite the menace when the time called for.

Considering the Coldwell's influence they probably wouldn't take it well for their son to be attacked by a "lowlife" from the disgusting part of town.

Jack could be the leader of a small gang, a very well respected one at that, but that was nothing compared to the loads of money those guys had.

And that's not even mentioning the fact you didn't want to be in his debt. Maybe it was your pride speaking for you, but you felt like being hidden under Jack's protection would be… Pretty cowardly. He wasn't involved with this situation at all apart from taking you basically under his wing after he saw you wandering around the neighborhood with no motivation to go home, all beaten up and dirty, lost like a little puppy in the cold night.

It was the first time you two properly met, but you knew his fame very well, almost acting as the vigilante and taking full pride in being the one that actually gets shit done around this place. It's a shame all that power must come from some shady business, you prefered to turn a blind eye to those things.

After all, no one seemed to care other than him and his gang about the safety and well-being of the people who live in this dump.

Even so, you never wanted to bother him with your personal issues, they were too small in comparison to his, you imagined. And it's not like you had any means to repay him if you were to ask him for help, it would be too much trouble for him to protect you from someone like Adrien and nothing beneficial in return.

You didn't want to think about being in debt with him, this whole habit of taking care of your bruised ass after every beating was already too much for you- How would you even repay him for noticing your struggle in the first place, and wanting to lend a hand?

It wasn't exactly healthy but sometimes a trashy food from the right brand could put a smile on anyone's faces, and you knew damn well you were starving.

"Here. I know it's not the best but I didn't have time to really go grocery shopping today- Buck usually is the one to do it really..." He came back with a microwaved lasagna and a glass of water for you as he sat next to you on his couch.

It was awkward, as you struggled to eat- Not just because of your injuries but also because of his silent stare… You sometimes forget how this man isn't your mom, he is a literal gang leader, hosting you in his house and tending to your sorry butt.

"... Thank you for the food…" You thanked him, uncomfortable with the current silence, but he didn't do anything to alleviate the tension.

So he is your mom, but with nothing stopping him from beating sense into you.

It was infuriating to you. Why couldn't he just let you go already? Why did he have to make this so much more humiliating? You had the same age as him for crying out loud, yet he always treated you like a brat…

"You're welcome." Jack answered bitterly as he decided to grab an aid kit to treat your wounds. It was funny, he was mad at you for not telling him the full story, but instead of getting impatient with you, forcing you to speak up, or either kicking you out he still treated you like a child that needed assistance.

"... Ha… You know, you really don't have to do this if you don't want to." You let that out without much thought, just feeling anguished by always being treated like you're too weak to take care of yourself or accomplish anything.

"I know." And yet he didn't feed into your anger, he didn't give a reason as to why he was doing this nor did he acknowledge you scoffing and feeling pitiful for yourself. Treating you was more important than trying to argue with you right now, and that probably stung just a little more than being berated as a brat.

Just being ignored while having someone patch you up. Kinda like Adrien would ignore your negative reaction to his unwelcomed touch. It sickened you deeply to even remember that.

"... You did something, didn't you..?" Jack decided to push a little further to try to pry at least something out of you. You weren't acting like you usually did, apologetic, scared.

"No. You're very jumpy today though." He bandaged your arm with a little force, tightly wrapping it up to stop the bleeding. And then turning his gaze to stare into your eyes.

"What- Why are you asking that? Are you a psychologist now?-" You couldn't help but be sarcastic to his constant insistence in getting to know more about you- It didn't feel good to lash out at him, admittedly you felt a bad after the words left your mouth- It was as if you simply couldn't help it, his calm tone of voice mixed with the unpleasant pain of the alcohol he was rubbing in really overwhelmed you!

"You're acting like you're guilty." He smugly grinned at your reaction to roll your eyes at him. Today was a little too much for you, if you could, you wish you could just go to sleep already and maybe talk to him tomorrow- But to be fair you don't even want to see what will happen tomorrow.

… His distraught expression was stuck in your brain… Were you really feeling guilty about what you did..? Why?

"Hmf… It's the worst part, I know. But you get used to it…" Jack took note of your condition, so he decided to try to speed up his little care routine before you started to nag him…

"God fucking damnit-" You snarled at the burning sensation of your wounds being cleaned off.

But instead of getting pissy, or just wanting to storm off to deal with these by yourself- You just started to tear up.

Well, he didn't think it was hurting that badly, maybe he doesn't know how to be gentle or-

"... Why…? Why- Why do I feel bad..?" It was all you asked without really expecting an answer. Not looking at him as you started to hold your hands into tight fists trying to hold it in to the best you could. It didn't work. The tears just kept on going.

"Because they convinced you that you're the problem." Jack stated without much thought, it was as if he already knew what you were thinking about, despite you never telling him what happened.

After a few seconds of silence, you did get your answer though.

"You tell them to stop, they don't listen and make you feel too weak to say anything else again. You lash out and suddenly you're the monster. It doesn't matter who did what first, the people will only listen to the "good guy" in the story."

You didn't really know what to say, you really didn't expect him to just openly talk to you like this. Jackson was always such a "go get them" type of guy, he always seemed so sure of himself that even if someone were to hurt him he would give them back tenfold. He didn't take anyone's shit, and although he never really said it out loud… You wondered if you seemed weak to him in comparison.

"I've felt like that once, guilty for hurting someone who harmed me first… Guilty of feeling good about it, guilty for not doing it sooner…"

He never made you feel like that, at least not directly, nor intentionally- But sometimes it felt like you would never be able to stand your ground like he does, taking blow after blow without caring for how it hurt him… Look at you now, you fought back but you are more bruised than Adrien is.

"I remember when you first told me you were being bullied, when I first saw you I thought I saw someone familiar. You remind me of myself before I got this." He put his right hand over his scars, those damned burned marks that only a devil could have made.

"... When I felt guilty, I tried to make amends with my tormentor… I tried to "compromise" with him, to be what he wanted me to be… But because I lashed out one day, you can guess what he did in return..?"

Staring back at you, unblinkingly as it was quite obvious what he was implying. You felt a bit uncomfortable by the way he would approach your face and whisper in close.

"It hurt. It hurt so much that I don't even remember who sent me to the hospital that day. All I remember was the psychotic laugh of that son of a bitch."

Sighing, he distanced himself from your face, giving you a little more space as he finished with your arm.

The way he would just casually chuckle about it was very concerning, he didn't seem to want to talk in detail about his past but you understood something from it at least- That maybe he would understand you a little better than you initially assumed.

"... Well, I don't know what happened or what you did, but looking at your state now I feel like you really shouldn't be so hard on yourself- Hell, there's someone out there who clearly already makes your life hard enough."

"... I-... E-Earlier today…" You tried to start your story, looking at him for any indication to continue.

And just like before, he wouldn't force you to tell him, but as he got up to treat your face as you laid your head on the couch- You noticed he was paying attention fully, not wanting to intervene in your moment to speak up.

""Kinda forced"." Jack took personal offense to your choice of words, he didn't say anything but you noticed him frowning as he pushed the cotton drenched in alcohol to the cuts in your face.

"He… sigh... He- Kinda forced me to kiss him-" It felt weird saying it out loud, it was something that generally happened between you and Adrien quite a lot… But it felt weird to finally say that… You felt like it was something embarrassing to confess to.

"Ow-! And then I rejected him- Like I always did…!" You closed your eyes, feeling him put bandaids in your face.

"Hmm." Was all the motivation he gave you to continue.

"And then… He decided he wanted to force me again in the more isolated area of the campus and I… I fought him.."

"Hhm-" You could tell he was amused, you heard him chuckle to himself.

"You showed him his place?" Victims of bullying getting their revenge was Jack's favorite kind of gossip, and you couldn't really blame him as it did feel cathartic.

"... It was awful…!" You laughed it off, remembering how awkward it was to fight someone for the first time, delivering punches was not as easy as taking them apparently.

"Yes..? I.. kinda don't understand what happened back there…" Remembering that scene well, could you really consider what happened as a win..? You weren't sure..

"Why not?" You've sparked his curiosity.

"I don't know, he kinda just looked lost after I told him to fuck off and leave me alone. I said I hated him and he just didn't do anything else." You managed to make Adrien speechless, it was a miracle on itself- But would that really be enough for him to fully stop? You kinda hope so because you weren't ready for what else could happen tomorrow when you go back there… Ugh, you can already tell people are going to be talking about you two, as the only two who look like they were severely fucked up.

"You know what, I think you did the right thing telling him off. Even in the smallest forms you didn't back down even a little for him. You know that makes you a strong person, right?" He petted your head.

"Hmf, aren't you a heartbreaker." He teased you a little.

Well, it could come off a little patronizing but good lord did you miss hearing backhanded compliments, shit this wasn't even backhanded, it actually did make you feel better.

He let you stay in his apartment for the night, you were really injured to go back now, and knowing Adrien he would probably find his way into your house…

Hearing you were too weak and pathetic everyday sometimes made you think you really were those things.

Should you have told Jack about this? About this little, tiny detail of your situation..?

That you were scared of going back home now and facing the possible consequences of your actions?

No, there was no way Adrien would be waiting for you there. He… He wouldn't. He would normally go to your home on Mondays after classes, "walking you home" as he would call it. And he only brought you to his home on Fridays so you could spend time in his house during the weekend…

"You're still very worried aren't you?" He threw popcorn at you… It was weird laying on his couch so casually like this, watching a movie and eating popcorn with a guy that basically was the most feared individual in your neighborhood. Laying your head on his lap probably wasn't helping the absurdity of it all.

It was a Thursday!- Surely you weren't completely deep into shit, just knees deep!

He didn't leave you any other choices though, and you were too tired to care.

"What gave you that idea?" Said you, the "master at hiding emotions'.

"You're biting your nails." Said him, the "master at recognizing emotions. You two were just sharing the same brain cell at this point.

"Look, it's just- I never actually fought back before, and I just know he'll fold me like a piece of tissue and sneeze on me-" You got up to sit next to him, unable to feel relaxed in a time like this.

"That's very specific-" Jack stared at you in disgust for the words that just left your mouth.

"-I don't know what I'll do when he just shows up again tomorrow and if he'll get worse or just-"

"I could help you if you want." He offered as you started to spiral down, he offered like he always did, despite always knowing your answer.

"But how will I ever deal with him if I can't handle myself?" You questioned without expecting a real answer, and yet, you received one.

"... You don't have to handle it by yourself. Honestly no one does-"

"Ah… Is that what this is all about?" He smiled amusedly as his assumptions about your stubbornness were true. It is infuriatingly adorable, if not really sad…

"You did-!"

You just rolled your eyes, great, now you'll never hear the end of it.

"It was because there was no one else there for me, [Y/n]. I didn't have anyone to rely on when this shit happened to me…" Jack petted your head again, ruffing your hair, you stayed quietly pouting.

"..."

"Oh, don't you dare- Just because I think it's nice that you get to deal with your shit alone, doesn't mean I idolize you-" Yep, he wasn't listening to you as he continued to pet your head, not caring about your sour attitude.

"... I didn't know I was such an inspiration for you."

Well, at least he did make you feel a little better.

"Thanks… For taking care of me, and helping me out so much… Honestly I wouldn't have survived Adrien's recent tantrums if it wasn't for you-"

"You're okay?-" You looked up at him and almost had a heart attack at that seriously scary looking mug he had on his face.

"..." Jack's silence caught you off guard, he stopped touching your head immediately.

"Jesus CHRIST dude!! What happened?!" You started to drag yourself through the couch to create a healthy distance from the man, who was looking at you as if you had offended him, his family, and his entire bloodline.

"Adrien..? Adrien Coldwell?" He asked, calmly.

"It IS the Coldwell, isn't it?!" Jack was starting to raise his voice, and you weren't sure if he was mad at you or at Adrien who he seemed to know… really well?…

"I.. I didn't say his last name-"

Oh.

Oh no.

"God fucking damnit-" [Y/n]. He didn't say it, but you could tell that he was mentally adding your name at the end of the sentence.

"Jack, wai-" And before you could bring him back, he was already storming off to his bedroom to grab a pack of cigarettes.

"God, FUCKING DAMNIT-" Where the fuck were those cigarettes.

"I-I- I'm sorry?!" You started to apologize without realizing, perhaps mentioning Adrien's name wasn't a good idea, but how would you know he was the same person to cause that burn on Jack?!

Oh yeah, you were in the apartment of a gang leader known to be pretty violent- You suddenly remember what being afraid was like!

Fuck, you really don't want to deal with another person's meltdown, yeah that's a pretty selfish thought to have but this was bordering into dangerous territory.

"GOD, FUCKIN, DAMNIT!!-" You couldn't see him, but you could tell he was throwing things around his room. Drawers were being thrown in a frenzy as he the man just wanted his damned cigarettes already.

Maybe it wasn't a fair assumption, but the You Know Who Guy made you witnessed some pretty fucked meltdowns and although you can't blame neither of them (technically) for feeling emotional and needing to let it out, you really didn't want to be the stress ball for someone else's aggressive coping mechanisms.

"Why, didn't you tell me, when I FUCKIN ASKED YOU-" Fuckin finally he found them!

"I-I didn't know he was the same guy who HURT YOU!!" Shit, the fuck he was mad at you about?

"WHY ARE YOU MAD AT ME?! WHAT THE HELL DID I DO!?!" And as you screamed back he came to his bedroom door, looking just as crazy as he was before hand, cigarette in mouth as he started to play with his lighter to try to calm down.

"HURT ME? HURT ME?! WHO CARES ABOUT THAT NOW– GOD, DAMNIT [Y/N]!!" He yelled out from his room, struggling to light up his cigarette with the lighter he always leaves in his pocket.

"Mad at you..? No. I'm not mad at you." Well, goddamn! Could have fooled me!

He didn't answer right away, instead opting to inhale that nasty shit before saying something he would regret. He was physically incapable of staying still, walking from side to side, trying to rearrange his words in his mind.

"..." He rested against the wall of the living room, he wasn't looking at you as he was too busy thinking about the ridiculousness of this situation.

"No… I'm not mad… I'm fuckin ecstatic…!" He laughed, a pained laugh, it seemed like it didn't matter where he went, or what he did, or who he became, he would always have that looming shadow over him and over the people in his life.

The guy that fuckin marked his skin for life was the same son of a bitch that was messing with you since long before you met Jack, long before the beatings started… Question is, did Adrien know about your little friend? If he did, that could explain the sudden need to reinforce his hold on you… How fuckin hilarious.

But this time he wasn't the target, right? Adrien wasn't messing with you to target Jack, after all you guys only know each other for a few weeks, and you have been dealing with the Coldwell for at least two months.

Ah, he could see it all now, you have become the new sensation, haven't you? Sucks for you, really, he feels sorry for you…

God why didn't you tell him sooner you fucking dumbass…

You were sitting there still like a statue, looking at him for his every move for a good ten minutes as he was too busy dealing with his own thoughts on the matter. He didn't realize how scary he must have come off to you especially after you already went through such a hard experience.

Jack was looking to the horizon of his own living room, thinking about the situation with a wide grin. He was about to tell you the crazy plan he have come up with but as soon as his eyes landed on you, he realized what he did.

"You know, I'm being really unfair… It's not your fault this happened, none at all. Although things could have been avoided if you told me who was bothering you from the beginning- Honestly we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." He walked towards you, slowly, you tried to shuffle away as much as you could but you froze when he sat next to you and put his hand on your shoulder.

He didn't like how he scared you to the point of staring at him like that, as if he was a monster. But he didn't seem bothered by it.

".." You weren't sure of what to tell him- You didn't know how to respond. What the fuck was going on?! He wasn't blaming you for suffering all this time, but goddamn was he terrible with his words.

"You wouldn't have stood up for yourself if I had interfered… And although I disagree with your decision to hide his identity for so long- Sigh I can't be mad at you taking it to your own hands. I'm really proud of what you did." He shook you a little, trying to hammer in his words as much as he could- Because let's be frank here, he was calm now but still seemed very, very pissed off.

Or his way of saying them.

"Now… I think that you should go to sleep, and in the morning we'll fix this shit right up."

"Now, before you do something stupid, I want to make one thing clear. You're sleeping in my bed today, you're not going home tonight. It's dangerous outside-" And inside as well!!

"Ok-Okay then?-" You got up as quickly as you could- He forced you back down on the couch.

"-And you're also going to tell me, in the morning of course, not now, everything you didn't tell me that the Coldwell did to you. We'll just take notes, and we'll make a plan for what we'll do tomorrow, alright?"

"Don't worry I didn't fuck up the bed, the floor is pretty messy though. I'll sleep on the couch. Welcome to the fuckin gang, [Y/n]."

Calm, commanding. Very polite yet such a dominant way of basically scaring you into staying the night with him here.

He petted your head trying to bring you back from your terrified state, well, shit, he fucked that up badly. You probably would never forget how he gets when he is mad, but let this be a small lesson to you, to always tell someone who knows how to deal with bastards like Adrien.

Jack will deal with Adrien just fine, as he already got the most precious thing from that spoiled prick sleeping in his bedroom tonight.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[kumakuma-circus]

i think i have too many wip persona fanfics. just a hunch-

[yuripoll]

REJECT: Boyish² (2022)

NOTE: This was a rejected submission, on the basis that a couple of stories didn't sit right with me and it didn't feel right to stick it in the competition proper.

Boyish² is a single volume yuri anthology compiled by Natsuo Mutsumi centred on butch4butch relationships.

10 of Japan's top yuri manga artists have gathered to create the ultimate butch x butch yuri manga anthology! - Kickstarter

You can find both the JP and ENG release on the author's linktree.

CWs under the cut, sorted chapter-to-chapter. General severity rating: mild to moderate.

Locusta in the Skyscraper: nothing major.

Beware the Wolf: nothing major.

Can't Catch You Offguard With Love: nothing major.

Yuriran!: nothing major, but it's really pushing the 'butch4butch' premise. the butchest girl twitter can handle before they get scared etc etc.

We're Just Close, Is All: nothing major.

Moon in the Water: mention of suicidality + very mild sexual reference.

Portrayal: some sexual reference.

La Coneja Blanca Y Su Santa Maria: nothing explicit, but implied sex where the consent feels mildly dubious.

Seafoam: terminal illness, discussion of cannibalism, death.

All-Inclusive Feelings: not super explicit but heavy sexual reference + some sexual content. there is a brief implication-slash-mention of csa/incest (it is a miscommunication joke - nothing actually happened). and like. there's no good way to say it but it just gives me a Weird Vibe. i can't fully place it but it just raises some invisible red flag for me. the way the author depicts brown women felt... kind of fetishistic to me? additional pieces on the artist's twitter gave me the same vibe. i'm white, so feel free to ignore my take on this, but recommending the anthology without giving a clear warning about this gave me a bad taste in my mouth.

Bad Butch Bad Boy: non consensual public spanking, forced kissing & bad bdsm practices.

Coffee Time: nothing major. LI is a black woman w afro-textured hair btw! ^_^

I'll Sculpt My Abs!!: suggestive scenes.

[neallo]

trying to get organized for kinktober bc i have a teensy bit of free time this AM & listing out the prompts that fit existing multichapters (trying to make myself update things by weaponizing the event) is really something else because most of them have, like, 2-5 applicable prompts, and then there's a game of chance and bury us both which have 15 and 18 respectively

[amongsnot]

👀 hi

[ateezscupid]

Hello is it ok if I can please request idol!hongjoong x idol trainee! Reader who for their audition does antifragile and just completely has hongjoong mesmerized with the way their body moves while dancing

﹟𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗘 ⋆ 𝗄.𝗁𝗃 𝗑 𝗀𝗇!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

plot - you auditioned as a trainee for kq ent., and practiced your dancing in front of hongjoong, not knowing you'd have him falling head over heels for you.

warn - fluff, that's it!

w/c - n/a

𝗧𝗔𝗚S - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan

“okay, next!��� yelled a staff member from the room. it was your turn to dance in front of hongjoong; to prove you were kq material and to prove you had the talent to become a kpop idol.

to be completely honest, you were scared out of your mind. there was no way you were going to be accepted. it was a bad mindset to have but you couldn’t think of anything else, you were terrified. dancing in front of your idol, dancing in front of the man you’ve looked up to even before his group debuted.

you stumble to your feet and brush yourself off before you stepped inside. standing in the room as well was hongjoong, yunho, san, and a few of kq’s staff members. you didn’t know you were going to be dancing in front of this many people, but you had to push through.

“introduce yourself, then tell us what dance you’ll be doing.” yunho said with crossed arms against his chest.

it almost felt like you were dreaming seeing them in person. no makeup on, no flashy outfits, just sweats and a t-shirt with bare faces and baseball caps. you felt like you were going to collapse when yunho spoke to you. he was much bulkier in person than how he looked on your phone. his shoulders were more broad and — in general, he looked like a giant compared to you.

it wasn’t any different with san either. he was shorter than yunho, obviously, but he was still bulkier than you imagined. you almost felt a little nervous having to dance in front of him. the choi san. the man who’s dancing is top tier, you could never reach his level. though, your plan wasn’t to reach his level, but it didn’t matter. all in all, you were nervous and afraid to dance.

then came hongjoong. he was so much prettier with his bare face, and in real life, you felt like you were staring at a porcelain doll. his pretty eyes, pretty lips, just in general his pretty face could’ve brought tears to your eyes. he wasn’t as bulky as the others, but he was still somehow bigger and taller than you, which was a shocker since he was the shortest out of the bunch. the way he sat in the corner, eyes appearing at the very edge of his baseball hat as he looked at you, you wanted to pounce on him right there and then.

but, stay focused. this was a once in a lifetime moment and you weren’t possibly going to give it up or ruin it because you were too mesmerized by the members. you cleared your throat and took a deep breath. your nervousness was visible.

“i’m y/n l/n, and i’m—i-i’m gonna perform anti-fragile by lesserafim.” your hands were behind you as you rocked back and forth slightly. picking a kpop song to dance to at an audition might not have been the smartest idea, but it was the only dance you knew you had down to the bone.

“alright,” yunho nods and walks back to the bench san and hongjoong were sitting on. “show us what you got.”

you nodded to the man, your eyes wandering to hongjoong again before you stood in the middle of the room waiting for the music the play. one of the staff members moves to the back of the room and starts typing away at a computer, looking up anti fragile and beginning to play it.

you started dancing, trying your absolute hardest to hit every move but not be too sharp with your movements. the hardest part of it all was to not dance ahead of the song. you tried your very hardest to stay on beat, not trying to be too fast and not trying to be delayed. you hadn’t realized how much you had focused since it seemed like light work. and the cherry on top was your facial expressions.

hongjoong tilts his head at the sight of you. the way your body moved along with the music made him feel a bit lightheaded. you weren’t stiff at all, you had every move down, and your facial expressions only made things better. you were so expressive and energetic, he loved it.

“they’re pretty good,” joong whispered to san who was closely observing your dance. though there wasn’t a visible expression on his face, it’s clear he liked your dance.

“do you think they’ll be accepted? i think they should.”

“well, this is only the dance portion of the audition,” yunho cleared his throat. “they still have to do the vocal and rapping bit. luckily, they’re already good at dancing so they have a leg up in the competition.”

“i like them.” san nods slowly. “they’re movements are sharp, but not so sharp to the point they’re stiff. and they’re still pretty fluid.”

“okay, mr. dance teacher.” yunho rolls his eyes. hongjoong still couldn’t take his eyes off of you. if the others said you weren’t going to be accepted, he was going to try his hardest to change their mind. the way your body moved caught his attention, and he was sure that’s what you wanted since you winked at him while dancing.

the second the song ended, the three of them stood up clapping and cheering. clearly it was a joke and they weren’t being serious, but they did enjoy your dancing. they all sat back down and started talking amongst each other, mumbling things you couldn’t understand. they made a few glances at you but didn’t say anything to you directly.

“we’ll update you tomorrow if there’s any new information.” a staff member spoke from the back of the room. “you can exit through the door on your right!”

you nod quickly and gather whatever you brought with you inside the dance studio and move toward the door, opening it and walking out. once the door was shut, you dropped your things and slid down a wall, kicking your feet and giggling uncontrollably. you just danced in front of ateez, or 3/8 of ateez, but still. you just danced in front of the choi san, the jeong yunho, and the kim hongjoong. your heart was beating so fast you were having a hard time breathing for a second. you could’ve passed out on the floor right there and then just from excitement.

“if you’re gonna get excited, don’t forget to breathe.” a voice rung from beside you. turning your head, you saw it was hongjoong. right now would’ve been your cue to pass out, but you didn’t want him to think you were a weirdo.

“i-i—right, um, i can still breathe!” you chuckle softly and scramble to your feet. “um, thank you—i mean you’re welcome! wait—no, i meant thank you. thank you.”

“no, thank you. i haven’t had someone come in and dance like that in a while. you were pretty good.” he crossed his arms, his tattoo appearing just below his rolled up sleeve. “in my opinion, you have a really high chance at being accepted. not just because you were really good, but because i’m gonna tell them to choose you.”

“you’regonnawhat?” you spoke so fast you almost choked on nothing. hongjoong telling the staff himself that he wanted you to be picked? it all felt like a dream.

“you’re cute,” he chuckles. “i want you to be accepted, i see a lot of potential in you.”

“o-oh, well, thank you! uh, sorry if im being awkward, it’s a little… unreal how im talking to you right now like you’re a normal person. not that you’re not a normal person because you are! you’re just famous! n-not saying you being famous doesn’t make you normal but—”

“shh, stop rambling.” he shut you up immediately. “i get it, no need try and explain yourself. just know you’re a really good dancer and you have a lot of potential.”

“…thank you.” you nod your head quickly.

“also, uh, are you free after this? or do you think you’ll be free? you seem pretty cool and i wanna get to know you.”

was hongjoong asking you out on a date? no, he couldn’t have been. maybe he was just—just… oh god, he was asking you on a date. there wasn’t any other way around it either, you knew he was asking you on a date. you thought saying yes would make you seem desperate, but it was kim hongjoong? anyone would be desperate for him.

“i, uh, yeah i am! but, i don’t know how you’re gonna get to know me since i’m pretty sure everyone knows you. we can’t really go out without you being recognized. and if someone catches you coming to my house, it’ll cause a scandal.”

“i can wear a disguise? and we don’t have to go to an area that’s busy. i can rent out a cafe space if we need to.” he smiled.

“oh, okay…” you clear your throat and pick your things up. “i wouldn’t mind going out…”

“cool. what’s your number?” he pulls his phone out from his pocket and you—nervously—tell him your number. you stuttered the entire time you spoke but he still got your number, and even texted you to make sure it was the right one.

“see you then!” he smiled and walked back into the room, leaving you shaking and in complete shock.

“s-see you..”

[ink-selfship-shenanigans]

the tail headcanon oneshot is done! Here you go!

You and Ink were messing around in your room, currently looking for craft supplies to use to make something. Ink was bending over, looking in one of the various storage boxes the two of you had gotten out to look through. He was very excited and you were also trying to look, just behind him. Until you noticed something. There was a very small protrusion just under the waistband of Ink’s pants in the back. It was moving slightly, side to side, and needless to say this weirded you the hell out. None of the other skeletons had this and you hadn’t noticed it before. “Hey… Ink?” you inquire. “Yeah, pal?” Ink responds, still not looking at you as he rummages through the old art supplies.  “Do you… have a tail or something?” At this Ink stops and turns his head towards you, looking embarrassed and shocked. “H-how did you know?…” “It’s wagging right now, and your position makes it stick out.” “Oh…” He flusters a bit, noticing his stance. “Could I… see it?” you ask awkwardly, a bit shy yourself. “Oh! Well… I mean… I don’t see why not…” He smiles sheepishly, getting into a better standing position and very carefully unveiling the tail. It was very short and stumpy, about 3 segments long at most, pretty rounded too. It simply looked like his spine was just a few vertebrae longer than normal. It was still wagging very slowly, Ink looking back at it with a flustered smile. You admire it for a moment, blushing a bit yourself and thinking about how adorable it is. “Why do you hide it?” you ask curiously. “Lots of reasons.” he answers briefly. “Such as?” “Well…” he hesitates a moment, “I feel like it makes me stand out too much. And I’ve been teased about it before. It’s also just best to avoid people grabbing it and stuff.” he explains, still looking bashful. “Well I think it’s cute! Can I… touch it…?” You become more flustered as you inquire. Ink looks anxious for a moment, face lighting up with colors as he blushes. Soon his expression softens and he smiles. “Well, uh… sure… just be careful…” At his permission you carefully move your hand towards it, being very gentle as you begin to touch it. You run your hands over the segments, rubbing each one gently. This seems to elicit a reaction from Ink, who stiffens a bit and lets out a whimper, his expression very similar to how you’ve seen him react when his neck is touched. “Wow, are you alright?” you ask, hoping you’ve not done anything wrong. “Y-yeah, I’m fine, just… it’s sensitive, if you can’t tell…” he responds, looking flustered. “Alright…” you reply, beginning to pet the tail again. It wags in your hand, Ink letting out more breaths and squeaks and beginning to purr at one point. He’s soon shivering, embarrassed but not displeased. Eventually he turns around and hugs you suddenly, looking flustered and somewhat desperate. “H-hey, I’m sorry but I think I need cuddles REAL BAD now…” he says, clinging to you slightly. “Heh, alright, cutie.” you say, patting his head and picking him up to take him over to the couch.

hope you enjoyed! ^^

-🥤

AWWWHHH HE IS SO ADORABLE YES I WILL CUDDLE HIM

You have NO IDEA of how much i adore this little piece of writing

[taegularities]

You better fucking submit Ya work to that writing competition. I believe in you & regardless of the outcome I know you’ll do great. Also no reason to be insecure, your wonderful. I really mean it friend✨💕

PLEASE the first few words scared me lmaoo 😭 but wow, thank you :(( i hate uni bc i still have two papers to submit, so pls pray i find the time to write stuff for that competition, too!! hope things turn out fine, i'm so nervous lol :') fr tysm friend, i adore and appreciate you lots 💕

[thathermitweirdo]

Guys pls submit asks for oneshot ideas/requests. Feeling motivated to write but got no ideas. Normally I would update but I just posted two updates to two different fics (Blood and Tears and The Fourth Star Rewrite on AO3 and Wattpad COUGH) I’m down to write anything really just as long as I find it interesting lol

[chuluoyi]

fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

general masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

[lyralit]

ways to start writing more efficiently

stop writing with the word count on!

use a font like comic sans -- trick your brain into thinking that it's not important, that the writing can be stupid, if it's in a stupid font (if you can't tell i despise comic sans)

time yourself to get to a goal

or give yourself a certain amount of time

quantity >> quality in the first draft(s)!

jot down what you want to happen in that chapter

try organizing your writing (nanowrimo, for example)

do *not* reread! it doesn't need to make sense, it just needs to be there

try not to stick yourself to something you saw on tumblr. what works for someone else doesn't necessarily work for you!

take breaks. time those breaks.

practice writing short stories / oneshots of your characters.

try getting all your writing done within a certain goal (as much as I can for 30 minutes) rather than writing 5 minutes on or off

write down every little wormy idea that comes into your brain! sure, it's probably for a different plot, but maybe you can work it in somehow?

on that note, mash elements of your plots together rather than starting a whole new story

see maybe what little writing competitions you can submit your work to

proclaim your goal to the wide web for some peer pressure

rewards yourself. cheer on every thousand-word milestone. brag to your friends that you've written something, anything.

don't think of the big goal—don't think of publishing, or posting, etc. think of the end of your chapter, the development of your character, where it goes.

switch your writing environment! where are you most productive?

make a playlist only for when you write. never for anything else.

getting off tumblr, probably.

have people remind you of your goals.

remember that it all comes with discipline, but also your mental health is the most important!! don't sacrifice half your sleep to meet your nanowrimo goals. try to recognize when it's taking you too long and close the document. do something else. come back later.

take care of yourself. <3 use this post as a breather (or reminder to start!)

[zyafics]

DIRTY AIR | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (oneshot) | x Maybank!Female Reader

Summary — When Rafe wants you as a late-night booty call, you’re going to make him work for it. Word Count. 2.2K.

Content — 18+, smut, lots of banter, sexting, fingering, oral (female receiving), and the usual Maybank-Rafe tension. Reader is a bitch, a tease, stubborn, dominant, and uses a dab pen.

lıllılı Breathe (Rap Version) by Blu Cantrell, Sean Paul

When you exit the shower, you receive a text from Rafe.

RC: come over

It's not surprising that he's texting you at this hour. It's half past ten and Rafe is always in a horny mood. You roll your eyes as you type your reply.

You: no thanks

RC: i haven't seen u in forever

You: yeah? and how does that make you feel?

RC: don't be a bitch

You: ur the one texting me

You pause, fingers dancing over the keypad, before deciding to add: show me how much you miss me

You don't get an immediate response, but you don't care, dropping your phone onto the desk, and looking at your reflection through the vanity. The towel covers your body, your hair dripping wet from the recent wash, and your face fresh from makeup.

As you ponder on what to do next, whether you should do a new coat of black polish, your phone buzzes on the desk. Your eyes glance down at the preview, noting it's a photo from Rafe.

A dick pic.

The shot captures his cock fisted in his hand, in the darkness of his bedroom, and the fine muscles of his thighs on display. You feel a pulse of desire shoot to your core.

A text follows: better?

You bite your bottom lip, holding back a smile, and contemplate your response.

You: it isn't worse

RC: fuck off

RC: do u need a ride?

You: i don't remember saying yes

RC: are u serious

You: how do i know that wasn't already loaded on your phone?

The next photo came quickly. This time, in the same position, Rafe sends a picture with his middle finger up, signet ring glistening. You laugh.

RC: ur turn

Just before you can tease him further, another text follows: if i gotta fuck my hand tn, at least give me something to jerk off to

You can't stop the grin from rising on your lips, shaking your head, and deciding, for once—just this once—you'll be agreeable.

Dropping your towel to the floor, you stand in front of your mirror with nothing but a pair of panties loosely around your hips. You angle the camera in front of the reflection, using one arm to cover your tits. Then, you snap the photo and click send.

The response is instantaneous.

RC: take off ur arm.

You: cant, my tits are meant to be experienced live

RC: ur killing me here

You: poor boy

RC: how am i supposed to jerk off to that

You: use ur imagination

RC: i’d rather have u here

You: is that supposed to be romantic

RC: fuck romance i wanna fuck

You: keep going cameron, i’m swooning

RC: ykw, fuck it, i'm coming over

Your heart stutters and you quickly type a response: no you can't

But you don't receive a reply.

Minutes pass but the text remains unread. Half of you want to pick up the phone and call him but decided against it. It's stupid. You won't be the first to submit. He's not going to take this much energy from you. If Rafe does show up, you simply won't answer the door.

You resume your nightly routine. Changing into an old shirt and shorts, you take a final hit from your dab pen, and just as you're about to head off to bed, a knock on your door reveals JJ.

"What?" You greet your little brother, despite not seeing him the entire day. At least he's home safe.

"I just got back from the Chateau," he informs, causing your brows to pull together.

"Congrats?"

"Thanks," he leans against the wall next to your doorway, right beside your desk, "and guess who I met waiting outside our house?"

Your shoulders drop. "He isn't."

"He is," JJ declares with an obnoxious click of his tongue, shaking his head in that little brother shake of disapproval, but not having any real authority to change the circumstance. "He offered me twenty bucks to convince you to meet him."

You squint your eyes at him. "Did you take it?"

"Of course," JJ holds up the folded twenty between his fingertips and you scoff. "You're gonna meet him anyways. If the Kook's throwing away free money, might as well take it."

You shake your head at him, but truth be told, you would do the same. "You have no loyalty."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes," you affirm stubbornly, now having another reason not to go to Rafe. "I'm not going to see him."

"That's not what he's saying."

"What? You and Rafe gossiping about me now?"

"Yeah, we're best buds now," he draws sarcastically, before pushing himself off the wall and knocking his knuckles against your desk, as if to test how solid the wood is, before pulling back. "Whatever you do, just don't fuck in the house. The walls are thin and I'd rather not hear you getting freaky."

He walks away, without closing the door, and you yell after him, "Yeah, and remember that whenever you invite Kie over!"

JJ doesn't say anything, flipping you off, but you laugh, and knowing without a doubt that your brother is carrying a similar expression. When JJ leaves, you grab your phone nearby on your nightstand. Still, no text. You wonder if Rafe truly believed JJ was going to fulfill his promise and drag you out of the house.

You decided to test it.

You: ur little plan didn't work

RC: maybe

You: my brother doesn't like u

RC: and i don't like him

You: then why are u here?

RC: thought i made that clear

You: go ask one of ur other girls

RC: nah

The chat bubble comes up before disappearing. Finally, a text comes through: none of them are u

You can't stop the swarm of butterflies from fluttering in your stomach and you hate how easily you fall for his words. Rafe's nothing but a casual fuck, which you're using a little too often, and you decide to push back.

You: i'm not coming outside

RC: maybe

You: i'm going to sleep

RC: then why are u still texting me

You lock your jaw, hating the flush rising to your cheeks from being called out. You decide not to entertain a response, dropping your phone on the nightstand, facing up, and snuggle into your blanket. You're about to close your eyes but the bedroom door remains open.

There's something aggravating about its presence that, with a huff, you throw your comforter off your body and march up to the door to slam it close, flooding the room into complete darkness. When you're about to go back to bed, the tiny space lights up from a notification on your phone.

RC: are u really going to sleep?

You: u thought i was bluffing?

RC: nah, but i just imagined it would be hard

You: why?

RC: because once u close ur eyes, all ur gonna do is picture me

You: ur so full of yourself

RC: ur telling me u won't imagining me between ur thighs rn? my fingers could be rubbing your sweet pussy and get u real nice and wet

RC: ur always so wet for me

You: shut up

RC: and when ur dripping, i finally put my fingers in. just one for now, just to tease u

RC: while i'm fingering u, ur moaning with that sweet little voice of yours, begging me to go faster

RC: i do.

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling the ember of heat spreading from your core and causing your entire body to ache. God, you need release, and you find your free hand between your legs, stroking your panty-clad pussy to find the patch drenched. You hiss from the sensitivity, just as more texts come through.

RC: and when i drop my face down to find ur clit

RC: you'll moan my name, won't you baby?

Your fingers enter your wet pussy, but the girth isn't enough, and while you're pumping yourself, it isn't the same. You're imagining him—goddamnit, you're imagining him—and how he can do it so much better.

More text pings, but your head is tipped back, trying to bring yourself to your own release with no relief. When minutes pass and nothing but an incessant throb pulses through your core, you decide enough is enough.

Throwing your covers off, you march to the front door and whip it open, finding Rafe leaning against his motorcycle, phone in hand. His eyes immediately find you and a conceited smirk rises to his lips, "changed your mind?"

"Shut up."

You grab his shirt, not bothering for small talk, and pull him into your house, threading through the narrowed space before finding your room. When the door closes, you push Rafe against it, pushing your slick-covered fingers through his mouth, forcing him to suck.

He does, and a look of surprise and lust passes through his features.

"You gonna fuck me like you promised?" You challenge in a whisper.

He pulls your fingers out, "Use me, baby. Make yourself feel good."

With that satisfaction, you're about to turn around to go to your bed, but Rafe tugs on your wrist, pulling you back. "Not so fast."

His lips slam onto yours and Rafe kisses you desperately. You taste yourself faintly on his tongue, and one of his hands cups under your chin before slipping down, pulling at the thin material of your shirt, messing with the hems of your shorts.

Rafe pulls away, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before releasing and mumbling harshly. "I need these fucking clothes off."

"You're here now," you step back just an inch, "do it yourself."

Rafe grabs the hem of your shirt and swiftly peels it off, before both hands land on either side of your waist, slowly, sultrily lowering your shorts as he sinks himself to his knees. Rafe guides you back, allowing you to meet the foot of your bed frame, and when he evicts you of your clothes completely, he pushes you onto the mattress. 

"Fuck, Maybank," Rafe groans to himself, "you're dripping."

"Like you promised, huh?"

With a smug look, his fingers brush against your aching cunt, rough fingers grazing your slit in vertical strokes. You instantly jolt into his hand, causing him to use his free hand to hold down your hips.

His dark blue eyes are trained on your pussy, and you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of need to say something. To prompt him to go faster. Rougher.

"This isn't for you," you proclaim with a low rasp, "this is for me."

"Whatever you tell yourself so I can fuck you."

A digit pumps inside you—like he said—slow and steady at first, but the girth alone causes you to clench around it. Before long, he adds another and another, curling his fingers inside of you, fingertips grazing against your sensitive walls.

Your head tips back against your sheets, breathy moans escaping you. You feel yourself building up to a white-hot pleasure, the familiar one that you've been chasing ever since his texts, but comes so easily with Rafe.

"Come on, baby," Rafe taunts, going faster. "Scream my name."

"Fuck off, Cameron," you stammer through a moan.

He chuckles to himself. "Close enough."

His face lowers to capture your clit and he sucks hard, making you see stars. Your fingers thread through his hair, pushing him closer to your cunt, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Rafe usually loves being the dominant one, but something about you—chasing your own pleasure, using him as a mere toy for your own release—makes his inside buzz. He fucking loves it. With you and no one else.

Desperate moans cascade out of your lips, so needy, Rafe is reeling from the sound and safekeeping it into his memory. His name falls from your lips, and he channels his enthusiasm until he's knuckle-deep inside you with his mouth working over your swollen nub. 

You come hard while Rafe guides you through your orgasm, slowing down his thrusts. Once you ride it to completion, Rafe retreats his fingers and pulls you to the ledge of the mattress, forcing you back into a sitting position.

His eyes leveled with yours, your breathing is harsh while Rafe studies your features. The look on your face post-orgasm, the way your lips are parted with a fuckable pout, and the way your eyes are on him. Only him.

Slowly, you take his hand, the one slick with your arousal, and raise it to your mouth, pushing his fingers between your lips. You suck him clean, never breaking eye contact, and Rafe swears he's never seen a more erotic sight.

When he pulls his hand back, he uses it to cup the nape of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It came as a surprise to you; the way his tongue plays with yours, tasting you, needing you. 

Then, a loud banging from one side of your wall causes you to jump back. JJ's voice follows, "Can you keep it down over there?!"

It takes a beat before you burst out laughing, Rafe following. You turn back to him, tilting your head.

"Wanna make some noise?" You ask.

He grins. "Would love to."

"Okay," you grab his shirt, exchanging position, and push him onto your mattress. Your knees on either side of his hips. "My turn."

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