#reblog this if you're going to do something like this

[jaylver]

THE FIVE YEAR DEAL — P.JS

synopsis: having to deal with a four year long situationship was hard enough in the first place, but when your favourite situationship texted you on a random night after a year of no contact, it was a much harder scenario than imagined. what happens when he brings up that old pact you made about getting married in 5 years and you start rekindling a relationship that was lost?

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: ex-situationship to friends to lovers, second chance romance, angst, romance, pining

warning(s): profanities, drinking and partying, slight violence

wc: 6.5k

a/n: after a month of not posting, here's a very very belated jay fic that was meant to be for his birthday (scream). please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Park Jong Seong was your roman empire. There, you actually said it.

He was a thought that constantly hovered in your mind from time to time. Whether he was a ghost that lingered to haunt you or a sweet thought that remained, you couldn't tell. All you knew was that he had changed your life for the better and the worst.

A lesson you'd often tell others is to never get yourself involved in a situationship, worse if it's with your best friend. Unfortunately, you were speaking from experience which involved Jay, your ex situationship slash best friend. Look how you and him eventually turned out.

An almost four year long situationship with Jay that took an absolute toll on you had ended the year before. You agreed on no contact with him after, trying to create a peaceful life without him out of your life, yet it was entirely impossible when you shared mutual friends that reminded you of your good times with him even though he wasn't around. 

You hate to admit it, but losing a person who was your best friend cut deep into your gut and heart combined. It was, at least, for the better. That was something your friends told you that you gradually recited in your head. It wasn't very effective, however. You still thought about him, quite often actually. But you supposed that was the haunting and painful part of having a relationship with someone that was almost a lover but never became one. 

It was the same exact night you were thinking about him when a text appeared on the homescreen of your phone. You stared at the notification for God knows how long, debating if your lack of sleep was finally catching up to you. The contact name was unmistakable, there it was, Jay's text. Jay, your Jay? 

The strength you had trying to act casual, but in reality, you were dying internally. The hold that man has on you was unimaginable. 

jjong: you up?

you: ?

jjong: did you delete my number?

If only he knew, he would've probably laughed. You never deleted his number, nor did you even change his contact name. His name constantly stuck out in the list of contacts, just like the memories of him in your head.

you: no, i didn't. what i meant was why are you texting me at 2 am?

jjong: i thought of something, something we said four years ago

you: okay …?

jjong: you said if we're both still  single in five years, we should get married

you: you took that seriously?

jjong: should i not have?

you: dumbass, i was tipsy

jjong: you didn't say that when i brought it up after you were sober

you: it's stupid

jjong: it's not. come on, y/n, can we please start afresh? i miss you.

He missed you?  

jjong: i'm serious. can we please meet up?

you: you swear you're not going to pull something?

jjong: no?? the most i'll do is pull out an engagement ring but who knows

you: cut the crap, jay 

jjong: don't act like that didn't make you giggle even the slightest

jjong: meet me downtown. the usual place we go to :)

How could he act so nonchalant when bringing up the past? The usual place that you haven't been to after cutting contact with him was something he still recalled, but to you, it was a place you avoided up until now. 

It was hard to sleep when your mind was filled with thoughts of him, except this time, instead of missing him, you dreaded him and the part where you're going to meet him for the first time in a year. What was he going to say? 

The wish you wished upon the lone star that night was for Jay to finally set his feelings and emotions clear. But whether it will come true or not, the truth will soon befall on you.

The day you planned to meet Jay was a cloudy one. It was likely a foreshadow, but you chose to ignore the overthinking you constantly did.

You were the first one there in the cafe, specifically sitting at that table by the corner which you and Jay usually hogged. Being there early due to mostly the anxiety, you got to calm your nerves down and prepare yourself to face Jay. 

It shouldn't be hard to meet someone you already knew, but why did it feel that way? The unspoken feelings and those that were left hanging, unaddressed, was what haunted the both of you. You supposed this meet up with him would hopefully change that the slightest bit. All you hoped for was that he didn't become a stranger to you.

You failed to realise his approaching figure as you were sitting with your back facing the entrance, it was your usual spot anyway. Not to mention, his footsteps were quiet as ever, a thing about him that was unchanging. 

"Y/N," you heard his voice before meeting his eyes, watching as he slipped onto the chair opposite of you, the warm aura of his never failing to provide a sense of comfort for you. "Hey,"

The change of his hair colour grabbed your attention first. The silvery colour that the light bounced on suited him well. He always wanted to experiment with his hair, and you didn't expect him to really do it. Other than that, he had the same features, same smile, same warm colour tone eyes and skin. All in all, he was the Jay you knew, the one you loved.  

"Jay," you spoke his name as if it was a foreign taste on your tongue. His irises flashed an unreadable spark at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. You fell into silence, not knowing how to start the conversation whereas he seemed rather speechless instead. 

He shook himself out of it, a slight frown etched onto his lips. "Thanks for making time to see me. I know … you probably didn't want to, so I'm glad you came," his tone contradicted the way his texts sounded, the initial confidence was currently wavering.

"It's no problem," you shook your head softly, a secret hope you had kept shouting in your mind where he would fix everything. 

"I didn't want to leave us at that, Y/N," his sudden confession surprised you, but it left your heart beating in both anticipation and anxiety. "The way we left things, it wasn't right. I wasn't right for doing the things I did,"

You knew what he was talking about, or at least the obvious one out of the bunch. That night at his place where you were tipsy and he was holding you in his arms, you accidentally let out the secret you've been holding in: you loved him. As expected, it obviously strained the relationship as he insisted on it being nothing serious. You were stupid for thinking he would've reciprocated it, but all he did was leave you stranded on the empty space of heartbreak alone. 

"I'm sorry. I was an asshole, and I was an idiot for not realising how much you meant to me until you weren't there next to me. You carved a hole in my life and my heart was moulded for you," his gaze fell to the table, an audible draw of breath from him. 

Jay glanced up to lock his eyes with yours again, the twitch of his hand that was holding itself back from reaching over to you. "I'm not a religious man, Y/N, but every night I prayed for God to lead me back to you," he swallowed thickly, "I know I fucked up, that's why we stopped … everything. I deserved it, but I really want to fix everything,"

You opened your mouth to speak just to close it after a passing second. He said exactly what you wished for him to say, but why was it so hard grasping everything before you? Was it the shock? 

"I missed you, Jay," it was the truth, an angering truth that you held onto for ages. "I really did. I think about you a lot and the mistakes we made. I wish we could go back to the way we were. You're my best friend," you knew that word wasn't just what it was, it held something more than that. "And I just want you back,"

The softening of his gaze only exposed the vulnerability on your face. "Can we start again?" He said quietly, seemingly testing the waters. "As friends, and we'll go slow,"

"I'd like that," you nodded, never leaving his gaze. You didn't say it, neither did he, but you weren't putting away the chances of something more than just friends, an unspoken hope that you kept. Maybe this time, everything would turn out right. 

Before you parted ways with Jay and left for home, you shared a simple conversation in front of the cafe. Just like old times, the conversation flowed naturally as if time didn't separated the two of you in the first place. 

"Can I hug you?" 

For the first time in many months, you felt the warmth and touch of Jay's that you missed. It was familiar, comforting, a band aid that covered the crack on your heart. This was the first step to heal that broken heart of yours. Closure. It was for the better. 

The rest of your day was only filled with thoughts of him, till the point where it had you lying in bed, awake and turning, wondering about the fate of you and him. A second chance was about to make or break everything.

The next time you saw Jay again was at a party his frat brother held. 

Ever since that day at the cafe, you didn't stop texting Jay. You realised at one point that you had fallen back into your old self once more. Giggling at his messages, anticipating his notifications, calling him at odd hours. All of which didn't go unnoticed by you, and you wondered if you should be horrified or nonchalant. Given that you and him were on better, speaking terms now, you brushed it off as nothing.

"Well, isn't it my favourite girl," Jay had his arms wide open the moment he approached you, that smile of his glowing from a distance away. 

You smiled back, you always did anyway, letting him embrace you into his arms. "You smell like beer," you scrunch your nose up in distaste, pushing yourself off of him, but your arms around his shoulders remain.

"But I'm sober," he casted a wink at you, ignoring your eye roll as he took your arm from your shoulder and slid his fingers into your hand. "Come on, the guys are over there,"

To think about explaining this to the rest of your friends was going to be interesting to say the least. They already knew from your continuous text screaming for bloody help, but for them to witness it in person? You couldn't help but wish to cower into a corner out of embarrassment.

Heeseung was the first to raise a discreet eyebrow at you when you approached, hands intertwined with Jay, the same guy you swore you cut contacts with. That's a lie, apparently. Jake and Sunghoon seemed impassive, but you could tell from their several exchanges of glances, they thought the same as Heeseung did. However, both you and Jay were their friends, and no matter how messy it was, they were just the people stuck in between.

Jay eventually excused himself from the conversation to get more drinks for himself. You had a feeling he was about to be drunk by the end of the night no matter how he denied that. You knew his patterns through and through. Once he was out of ear shot, the boys turned to stare at you accusingly.

"Did you guys kiss?" Jake was the first to be blunt. The other two were eager to know the truth as well.

You practically jumped in your seat, as if a bullet had shot through your chest. In that way, his zero filtered question had that effect. "What? No! We agreed on being just friends,"

"For now," Heeseung chimed in.

"What?"

"You were literally holding hands with him," 

"It's platonic,"

"Considering your past with him, I think that's the last thing you can claim as platonic when it comes to Jay," Heeseung quipped back, making a valid point that you chose to ignore.

"Whatever. We're currently friends and we're not rushing into anything. We don't want to ruin it," you rubbed your arm uneasily, the thought of your past recurring saddened you. 

"Then when are you going to actually get together?" Sunghoon asked, sounding rather exasperated as though he's the one in your position. At one point, you wished you could trade places. 

"Ask him that," you leaned your head onto Jake's shoulder for emotional support, the question from Sunghoon was a second bullet to your heart. You had been the one sending signals from the start, but when it came to Jay reciprocating it, it was rather bleak.

"You're still hung over him? It never … went away?" Heeseung leaned his body closer, increasingly immersed into the conversation deeper.

"How could it go away when I've always been in love with him?"

The words stuck to you throughout the night. The truth and reality of you loving a man that threw everything away was a burden you carried. The egging thought of wondering if Jay even reciprocated the feelings after a year crept into your head. He didn't reach out to reconnect for nothing, did he?

Just as you've guessed, Jay was truly drunk out of his mind by the time the party was ending. Your friends were trying their best to haul Jay into his apartment while you trailed behind, wishing you were more of help than this. Jay was eventually dumped onto his bed, slurring out random sentences that made zero sense to you.

"Do you need me to drop you back? I didn't drink," Heeseung turned to you first once all of you stepped out of Jay's room. 

"I'll be fine. I didn't drink much, so I think I can drive myself back. I also want to stay a while more to make sure he's fine," you took a glance back at the open bedroom door, seeing Jay still awake and turning uncomfortably. 

"Will you be okay? I mean, you just started talking again, I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Heeseung placed an assuring hand on your shoulder, concern filled eyes boring into yours. You hadn't even thought about this before, the emotions you had whenever with Jay. 

You smiled at your friend. "It's Jay. I will never feel that way about him,"

Heeseung reciprocated your smile, seemingly more relieved. "I know."

Your friends soon left, the loud sounds of their drunken chatters faded into the night, leaving you in a deafening silence. A deep intake of breath was what helped you regain your confidence back to finally step into Jay's room, facing a dazed looking Jay who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He seemed a tad bit more sober from the multiple cups of water he had drunk. 

"Are you alright?" You took a few steps forward, holding onto the doorframe.

He glanced up, the dim light provided by his desk lamp illuminated his face, the sharpness of his features contrasted the tears he had swimming in his eyes. It was unmistakable, but it weighed you down onto the ground, not knowing if you should be taking another step. 

"Jay?" You called out cautiously, swallowing thickly. A quiet sob broke the short silence which followed, the glistening tears made their way down his cheeks. It was your first time seeing him as vulnerable as this.

You got to his side, knelt on the ground, trying to search for his gaze which persisted to run away from yours. He tried hiding his face behind his hands, but you were quick to stop him, holding onto them tightly. It was then he was forced to finally meet your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," you heard his weak voice utter out, his hand that you held onto gripped yours. "I'm sorry," he whispered tearfully.

It was your first time witnessing him this broken, crying nonstop and leaving his emotions out on display. For the first time in ages, you couldn't properly read him like you've always done. Was it your fault for making him feel this way? Was there nothing but pain in this so-called relationship you and him shared?

"I miss you," it was a confession, a painful sounding confession that he's held onto for a long time, the look in his eyes told you he meant it, but there was something else that he had: grief. "I'm sorry,"

You didn't know how long it was that you stared at him for, the thoughts in your mind had been long gone, the shell of your body remained. His words and the emotions behind them were heavier than you anticipated, it hit you hard and rough. You sighed, lowering your head for a second. "You should get some sleep, Jay. It's late and you're buzzed. I'll talk to you in the morning,"

Jay was silent. You could tell there was a hint of disappointment from him that you wished you weren't the cause of it. You got up to your feet, staring at the top of his head as he fought to avoid your eyes. So be it. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Will you stay?"

You've heard this one too many times. Yet, you were always a victim to it. Unlike most times, you knew this was different, letting your heart guide you to him instead of your head. It might've been foolish, but you were willing to be a fool that was persistently in love just for him.

"I'll stay."

That night, you barely slept as he laid in your lap, sound asleep. Your fingers traced the sharpness of his features, smoothing over the softness of them. You wondered to yourself whether reconnecting was a good idea in the first place if this odd feeling of yours kept cutting deep into your heart every time you're with Jay. 

You would never wish to leave him once more, but did he feel the same as you do? Or will he be the first to let you go again? 

Maybe, just this once, you'd have to be the first to let go, even if it's a small step, it was something better than nothing.

With one last apologetic look at Jay, you closed his bedroom door and left his home with a heavier heart than usual. By the time morning comes, you hoped both yours and his memories from the night before would be a fever dream. Something so intimate and vulnerable, how were you to forget quickly? Even as you drifted off to sleep in your bed, you could still remember the tears on Jay's face, it being the last thing you remember before waking up to your doorbell ringing.

It was as if your thoughts had manifested Jay to show up at your doorstep. He wasn't a figment of your imagination, but actual flesh and bones. No matter how you rubbed your eyes trying to get yourself to be more awake, he wasn't disappearing away from view. He was real. 

"Can we talk?" 

Those three words immediately brought dread for you. Jay's face was impassive, but it was evident that he was tired, restless. You nodded, moving away to let him in. It was easy for you to let him in, whether it was your home or your heart, you've always kept a space for him.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You stepped closer to him, seeing as he hadn't taken a seat and feeling something odd shift in the air.

"Us, Y/N, us," Jay breathed out, strained and hoarse, as if saying that word had pained him deeply. "I don't like this, I hate it. The 'us' that we are now,"

"What?"

"We can't keep continuing on like this. We can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not,"

It was too early for this, too early for you to be feeling burning internal rage. "Are you kidding? So what are you going to do? Leave me alone again? Go no contact with me again just because you don't want to face me again?"

"No!" Jay took a step closer to you, eyes blazing with equal fiery as yours. "I'm not ending things again, never. I can't lose you this time," his voice wavered, his hand reaching for yours and you let him hold your hand. Was that your first mistake? "I'm in love with you,"

You wished those words hadn't left his lips. For ages, you thought him confessing his true feelings would've fixed things, fixed you and him both, but at that moment, you realised it wasn't that easy, the cracks on your heart remained. 

"I know when you look at me, you see everything that went wrong, but when I look at you, I see the person I'm in love with," every word pierced your heart deeper, the desperation in his voice was clear, a saddening tragedy was imminent. 

"You don't get to do this," you whispered, backing away from him and freeing your hand from his hold. The hurt that flashed across his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you. "You don't get to tell me you're in love with me out of nowhere after we stop talking. It's not fair,"

"Am I … too late?" His voice was quiet, in the midst of the hurt was a pinch of hope. 

"You're not," you didn't want to lie, you knew your feelings were the same and unchanged, but you just weren't ready to cave in and accept his feelings that fast. It wasn't fair. "Time. That's what we need to start afresh,"

Jay nodded, jaw clenched, face stoic. There was no denying that he was hurt, he didn't hide it anyway. "I'll make it right. I'll fix us."

Was it possible to mend everything?

Attending a party to get drunk was probably the worst idea you had in a while. 

The thoughts of you and Jay haunted you like a sickening plague, the conversation you had with him was constantly eating you up from the inside. You were pushing him away, you knew so, you were becoming like him in some ways. How ironic it was. 

That was why the moment Julie invited you to her boyfriend's house party, you knew you had to have some type of getaway, though it wasn't the most ideal. The only problem you didn't appreciate her not telling you earlier was the person you wanted to avoid most was standing with the rest of your friends in a corner playing pool.

"Look, I didn't know they were coming," Julie defended herself, leaning her body close to your side. "What's up with you and Jay anyway?"

"It's complicated,"

Julie sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it is, but how blind and dumb could you both be?"

"Hey!"

"It's obvious you like him and he likes you, why can't you guys just—I don't know—get together?" 

"It's not that easy, I wish it was. I think we're both hurt, or I'm the coward this time. We … talked, he finally said he loves me, but I can't accept it just yet,"

"Why not?"

"I gave my heart to him, Julie. For years I willingly gave my heart to a man that constantly blocked me from his heart, which was why we ended things. Only then he realised his true feelings and right now he's asking for my heart back. I just don't think it's fair," your eyes dropped to the carpeted ground, gripping onto your plastic cup tightly.

"Then would you rather regret it?"

"Huh?"

"Would you regret after pushing him away and never becoming something you've always wished to be? Constantly think about the what-ifs? I know I'm not in the right to say anything since I'm not you, but the only thing I wish to say is to go with your heart," she placed a hand on your shoulder. "If your heart yearns for him, it'll always stay that way."

Why couldn't you stop your heart from yearning for Jay? It was as if Julie had read you like a book, even in those times where you and him stopped contacting one another, you never once forgot about him. It was true, your heart was yearning for him. 

Meeting new people that were introduced by Julie and her boyfriend momentarily took your mind off Jay. Their friends were people you probably wouldn't meet again, so you didn't mind when you were left alone with one of them. 

"You come by here often?" Juyeon, one of the guys, was by your side like a leech instead of being a good company. His presence was screaming red blaring signals to you.

"Not much," you chuckled awkwardly, wondering when Julie would return with the rest of her friends.

"Can I take you out some time?" Wow, he sure knew how to cut to the chase. 

"What?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come by to my place after this?"

Oh, this was your sign to run, wasn't it? "I—well, I have someone to meet—"

"Come on, give me a chance—" he grabbed onto your hand right before you could successfully leave, this was when you remind yourself never to get involved with frat boys.

"Sorry—" you didn't have the chance to finish your sentence when your hand was forcefully ripped away from his hold, another familiar feeling of someone's hand on yours instead. You turned just in time to see Jay standing beside you, visibly fuming.

"Leave her alone, man," he placed himself in front of you, shielding you away from Juyeon. 

"Look, I'm just trying to invite her over. You know what, she's nothing special anyway—" the sound of Jay's fist clashing into Jueyon's jaw stopped him from continuing on. You were too shocked to comprehend everything happening before you, even as Jay lunged onto the man, you could do nothing but stare. 

"Jay!" The shouts of his name clicked in your mind, breaking you out of your shell-shocked state. Every one of your friends rushed to get Jay off of Juyeon who ended up scrambling away, leaving a crowd of onlookers. 

He was hesitant to turn around and look at you, you could tell so from his stiff shoulders, but you stayed hoping to see his face. You reached your hand out shakily to touch his shoulder, yet, before you could actually do so, he turned around, eyes avoiding to meet yours.

"Jay—" 

There he went brushing past you, not a single word spoken from him. The slamming of the front door snapped you out of the hurtful daze you were in to follow him out of the house. He was standing on the pavement, unmoving. You approached him carefully, scared and paranoid of executing a wrong move.

"Jay," you walked to stand before him, feeling a tinge of hurt when he took a step back away from you. "Jay," you repeated his name, this time with a bit more desperation. "Why did you do that?" There was no answer, only a sullen silence which blurred into the night. 

You shifted your attention to his fist, the forming of a bruise and some cracked skin decorated the fist he used to punch Juyeon. Your hand absentmindedly reached for his. "You're hurt," you were about to touch his hand when he pulled away, avoiding your hold, a look of hurt flashed across your features, but you tried to hide it.

"I can't let him talk to you like that," he whispered, looking anywhere but you. You wished to grab his shoulder and forcefully make him look at you. 

"Jay, it's okay,"

"It's not!" He snapped, finally having the nerves to meet your eyes. His change of tone shocked you, your feet took a step back unknowingly. "It's not okay. Not when I feel like I'm going insane thinking you're going to get yourself in danger,"

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Jay heaved a breath in, voice shaking slightly. "I should be the one to say sorry for acting this way. I'm sorry," 

"Jay—" 

"I'll see you around. Get home safe." You couldn't even reach him and he was already gone, leaving into the night. There was a twisting feeling in your heart that was unbearable. Was this the end of it all? 

You felt even worse walking back into the house when the rest of your friends asked you about Jay and his whereabouts. It was awkward staying there after what went down, so you ended up going back home too, throwing yourself in bed to forget everything that had happened. 

Jay, the fight, Juyeon, you wished those three things never happened that night. You wished you and Jay never happened at all. 

"You're just going to leave it at that?"

A bottle of alcohol late at night with the company of your friends without Jay was what you needed after a rollercoaster of a events. The amount of shots you've taken wasn't enough to blur the image of Jay's tear stained cheek or the hurt in his eyes when he told you he loved you, not even the time he avoided your touch. You wondered if love was meant to be this painful. If it was, why were you so adamant on it?

"I … don't know," you set the glass down, chewing the insides of your cheek. "It'll be too cliche and stupid to say it's complicated, right? I think I'm just hurting him. I still love him, but I can't let myself to do so. It's weird, him reconnecting after a year and suddenly telling me he's in love with me out of the blue. What does all that mean?"

Sunghoon let out a hiss from the shot he took in one go, then turned to you. "Jay might be a dumbass for realising his faults and feelings a little too late, but there's one thing I'm sure about him, and that is how much he cares for you and loves you. I remember after you guys cut contact, he had trouble sleeping for months. He said the thought of you leaving haunted him,"

"I know it's unfair to you how he's only realised his true feelings now," Heeseung interjected, pouring another round into your glass. "But I think you're just hurting yourself more by pushing him away, just like how he did to you. You love him, don't you? Don't repeat the same mistakes, you've wasted a whole year together, don't waste a lifetime regretting what could've been."

Two stubborn people walking in constant circles, that was you and Jay. Too scared to face your feelings, hurting not only the other but also yourself. 

Being absolutely emotional and pissed drunk only resulted in you crying your eyes out, which made your friends worried out of their minds till the point where they had to call the person who would know how to comfort you. However, they  failed to realise in time that the same person was the cause of your tears. 

"Where is she?" You heard his voice from a mile away, it was something you'd never forget. The others were slowly leaving your apartment after hoisting you to your bedroom. The process of which involved you sobbing and your drunk friends trying not to drop you. 

The thudding sound of footsteps filled the silence in your home. It stopped right at the doorstep to your bedroom, the hesitation was evident when he entered after several beats. You laid on your side, facing away from him. His approaching figure made your heart race, you felt the bed dip beneath you upon him taking a seat next to you. 

"You're awake, aren't you?"

You glanced up at him, the dimness of your room casted a shadow across his face, but he was still the most beautiful person you've seen. You slowly sat up, trying to move your body a distance away from him to make everything less surreal. The silence in the room was overwhelming, neither of you knew what to say first.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?" 

"I was the first to let go this time," you chuckled dryly, doing everything but meeting his eyes, maybe you were the coward all along.

Jay let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. "How could I ever hate you?" It was a question, it was his truth, his dying truth that he held onto with all his heart. He glanced down, staring at his hands, the bruises from the hard punches thrown were healing. "I shouldn't have lashed out on you that night. It wasn't right for me to do so,"

In the midst of your hazy mind, your brain functioned well enough to recollect the memories he mentioned. Oh, that night, that incident. "It's alright, I know you didn't mean it, you were trying to look out for me, I get it," you averted your gaze, letting yourself smile a little to lessen the tension. "I think I was just scared,"

"Of what?" 

"Of you leaving again," 

Jay's gaze softened in the darkness, his hand reaching out to hold yours and it was one of those times that you let him do so knowing how your heart felt like exploding. "I'm never leaving, nor do I hate you. I hate myself for pushing you away, for realising everything too late, for hurting you," he took a deep, yet shaky breath, "If anything, I love you,"

The drowsiness you were experiencing somehow disappeared in a blink of an eye, your mind blank, all you could hear in the back of your mind was those three words which Jay uttered. The air around you and him had shifted, the angry tension dissipated. 

You felt his hold on your hand tightening, just the same as your heart tightening at the sight of Jay's heartbroken smile. "I love you," it was a confession, something ever so freeing to finally be able to say to him knowing your true feelings were reciprocated. "I'm sorry for running away,"

Jay moved closer, his face now barely a few inches away. Everything was a blur, how his other hand travelled to cup your cheeks, his breath practically fanning your lips. "I should be the one to say sorry," those were his last words before pressing his lips on yours.

It wasn't your first time kissing him, but something about the kiss was unlike the times you've experienced.  Despite all those playful, lighthearted kisses you shared with Jay, you knew this was different. Jay was pouring his endless unspoken apologies and devotion, a mix of relief, sadness, longing were hidden behind it.

Even as you pulled away, you could feel the palpable longing between you and him. It was as if years of silent desperation, confusion and pining had melted into one, finally being addressed at that moment. Neither of you spoke a single word, just holding each other close, admiring one another. It was intimate, something you couldn't recreate with someone else. 

"I will never leave you," he whispered, his thumb stroking your cheek reassuringly. "You're a piece of me and my heart, you make me whole. I would be a fool to ever let you go again,"

You stared at him as if he was your entire universe, the effect of his every word carved a space into your heart. Eyes closing momentarily, you let yourself melt into his touch, smiling softly. "I trust you."

That was all Jay needed to hear before a small smile spread across his face. You could hear it in silence, see the look on his face and that spark he has in his brown irises, you knew what it was, he was in love.

That night, he stayed with you until morning came. You held onto one another tightly, as though scared that it was the last day to be together. Little words were exchanged, but you were content by him holding you close. 

For the first time in a while, you were able to fall asleep with no lingering thoughts, and for the first time ever, he was yours, and you were his.

Telling your friends you and Jay were finally together was a rollercoaster of emotions that you'd never forget. 

It has been months since you and your best friend officially got together. The reactions from people around you were nothing but relief and support after knowing how much hell you two went through. For once, you actually believed in the 'forever' that was promised.

You didn't question the sound of keys unlocking your front door. It has become a habit for Jay to stop by your place every evening, almost just like before and it felt as if everything was falling back into place. Every visit of his came with something he prepared to surprise you, which was why his cheeky grin gave it away.

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head before joining you on the sofa, the playful smile of his never once left. "I have a surprise,"

"Chocolate cake?"

"Okay, something not edible," 

"What is it?" You couldn't help smiling too, nudging your boyfriend in an attempt to get him to reveal his so-called surprise.

"Close your eyes,"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious. Come on, close them!" He was giggling, egging you on to go along with whatever he has up his sleeves. "Now, give me your hand," You complied. Not long after, you felt something cold and small making contact with the skin of your palm. "Open your eyes," 

You were first met with Jay's anticipating gaze, then you looked down, seeing a ring sitting on the palm of your hand. "A ring?" You were surprised, picking it up to look at it closely. It was beautiful, simple yet so intricate in detail, as if it was customised for you. 

"Don't worry, it's not an engagement ring, it's a promise ring. I know we did make a five year deal, but we're still taking it slow," he picked the ring from your hold and gently took your hand, slotting the ring into your ring finger. "Maybe in another five years time, I'll actually get to fulfil our pact and replace this with an engagement ring,"

This was the closest you've felt your heart exploding. Heat rushed to your face, heart beating nonstop, you were suddenly the person who's first developed a crush for Jay all over again. "Since when did you become so cheesy," you scoffed, a small smile rested on your lips.

"Only for you, duh," it wasn't a lie whatsoever, Jay never hid himself when it came to you. "Let's call some takeout and stay in,"

"Are you staying over tonight?"

"Only if your bed is open to let me in," he made himself comfortable next to you, throwing his arms around you to pull you closer to his side. 

"You know it always is."

Jay didn't say anything, but his smile was enough of a response. No matter if it's your bed, house or heart, you've always reserved a spot specially for him. He made up a part of you just the same as you were with him. He was your home and safe space. You were glad you made that stupid pact on one drunken night that led him back to you.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[educatedsimps]

— they're in love with your laugh

i just KNOW hq characters would be so in love with your laugh like you could literally have ANY type of laugh and they'd fall even more in love with you. this is just how i think they'd react when they hear your laugh or i guess when they realise they really love your laugh? yeah, it's just fluff. enjoy :)

≪ back to fics masterlist

he would say "i love that" out of nowhere. "what?" "your laugh" "weirdo" (but he's a cute weirdo). SHAMELESSLY stares at you with a giddy smile on his stupid lovesick face and literal hearts in his eyes. also if you're like sitting at a table or something, he'd put his elbows on the tables and tuck his hand under his chin while he stares at you. bro is Down Bad Pro Max, trust me.

↳ nishinoya, tanaka, HINATA, oikawa, hanamaki, KUROO, konoha, tendō, ATSUMU, terushima, hoshiumi

he's kinda awkward so he'd just start blushing and smiling secretly to himself. your laugh is like a melody to him and he swears he could listen to it on repeat forever. makes him realise that he's so in love with you and your laugh that he would do anything just to make you laugh like that for the rest of your lives.

↳ KAGEYAMA, yamaguchi, yachi, KINDAICHI, ushijima, kita, sakusa

he's the quiet type who would just look at you with a soft smile when he hears your laugh and he just feels a sudden surge of happiness in his chest. his heart is so full when you laugh and he feels so damn lucky to have you. he know he wants to spend the rest of his life listening to your laugh, which is exactly what he plans to do. also the amount of love in his eyes is UNMATCHED.

↳ asahi, ennoshita, kiyoko, IWAIZUMI, mattsun, kunimi, kenma, AKAASHI, kawanishi, suna, osamu, i can also kinda see sakusa here

he would laugh softly to himself and fail MISERABLY at hiding his smile. so he's just looking at you with the widest, happiest smile on his face and now you're both laughing together, though you don't know why he's smiling so much. neither of you even remember what you were laughing about in the first place and now he can't resist kissing you and showering you with so much affection because he can't believe this ANGEL is actually his. he never thought he could love someone - let alone someone's laugh - this much.

↳ daichi, SUGAAAAA, semi, aran, komori, HIRUGAMI

bokuto's heart feels like it might explode at any moment and he's about to cry with how much love he has for you. you'd probably be standing next to him (also a lil confused) as he's going through an emotional roller coaster just he heard your laugh. "Y/N I LOVE YOUR LAUGH" "my what-" "YOU'RE MY ANGEL, I SWEAR" and cue a fountain of happy tears!

and for you tsukki simps, he'd tease you when you ask him why he's suddenly blushing. "admit it, kei, you like my laugh." "no, i don't. it's annoying." "you loooove my laugh-" "i don't know what you're talking about, y/n." "then why're you blushing, big guy?" "shut up, shortie." would also ruffle your hair before walking away with his face, ears and neck the same shade as a tomato. cute.

a/n: i don't even wanna count how many times i wrote "laugh" in this one like the word's starting to make absolutely no sense to me but i hope you enjoyed it???

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#educated.simps #haikyuu x reader #lyssa.writes #simps.write #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq #haikyuu #haikyu

[withleeknow]

the nut graph.

pairing: hyunjin x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, college au, fluff <3; oc is a journalism student (there's just a couple references in here, and the title lol) bc i am once again being hella self-indulgent 🤪 word count: 0.8k note: how ironic that as i was writing this, there was a thunderstorm outside but i didn't have a hyunjin to cuddle up with. tragic :/ anywhomst onigiri 🍙 this is for you and our shared hyune brainrot. i hope u'll tolerate like this one 🥹 <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

"it's raining."

the voice comes from beside you, where hyunjin has been sitting for the past couple of hours while you work on your respective assignments, sharing headphones and feeding each other gummy worms and almond pepero's every once in a while, your head softly nodding along to the music from his lo-fi playlist.

when you glance out the window, it's too dark to watch the sky, but you do catch a glimpse of the downpour thanks to the light from the streetlamp below.

you hum in agreement without much enthusiasm, turning to peck his cheek quickly before diverting your attention back to your laptop.

hyunjin huffs out a griping noise, shrugs off his earpod and scooches closer on his chair to rest his head on you. "hey, let's call it a night," he says, nuzzling his face into the junction between your neck and your shoulder, pressing his full lips against you, over the material of his hoodie that you've stolen borrowed.

"are you done with your paper?" you ask.

"no, but it's raining."

your boyfriend loves the rain; there's something so charmingly idyllic about the rain and he's nothing if not a romantic. he loves it even more when he gets to spend the moment with you, with the two of you nicely tucked together in bed or on the couch as you listen to the sound of the shower outside pattering against your window.

you only chuckle, kissing his forehead to appease him for now. "i'm not done with my article," you say. "you go to bed first. i'll be there in a second."

"let's go to bed now," hyunjin whines, drawing out the last word like an overgrown child. two bargaining hands slide around your body until they're clasped together on the other side of your waist. "it's the perfect time to cuddle."

"fifteen minutes and i'll be done. i just need to finish the nut graph and i'll be right there, okay?"

"nut graph," he echoes, giggling to himself as if it's the first time he's ever heard of the term. then he clears his throat, like he suddenly remembers that there's something much larger at stake here. "that's not a second. what if it stops raining?"

"then it stops raining." you shrug, reaching for a pepero stick to munch on while you keep your gaze on the laptop screen again. "it won't kill you, y'know."

"you don't know that." another pathetic mewl escapes his mouth. "come onnn, i need my cuddles."

"well, we're kind of cuddling right now."

though if you're being honest, your train of thought kind of kicked you off and left the station the second hyunjin started slotting himself against your side. you're just doing this for kicks, because sometimes it's entertaining to tease your boyfriend and watch him be dramatic for a minute. it's endearing, how he whines about not being able to snuggle with you like it's the worst thing that could ever happen to him. it's a bit of an ego boost as well, to know that this godlike man would turn into a puddle every time he's needy for your attention.

"this is not cuddling," he says, his arms tightening around you and for a second there, you wonder if he would actually carry you over his shoulder like a potato sack and take you to the bedroom himself. "come on, let's go to bed. this is your tax."

"this is my what?"

"your tax," he repeats, pinching the material of your (his) hoodie between two fingers. "for wearing my clothes. pay up."

rolling your eyes in playful disbelief, you open your mouth to shoot back a retort but you're promptly cut off after the first syllable makes it out when hyunjin does exactly what you were picturing a minute ago - he fucking picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, in true potato sack fashion, while you squeal in shock.

"hyunjin! the nut graph!"

he only pats your butt in response to your helpless wiggling. "it'll still be there tomorrow."

his long strides carry you to the adjoining room in no time. before you know it, you're already gently laid on the bed while hyunjin settles on top of you, his arms encircling your frame as he throws one of his legs over both of yours. he sighs, clearly content with himself, the soft puff of air escaping his lips to tickle the skin of your neck.

you have no choice but to concede; you're already here anyway. you turn in his hold until you're hugging him back comfortably, carding your fingers through his soft hair to keep his head close to you.

"needy little monster," you complain, no bite.

hyunjin doesn't care about witty comebacks. he won, he got what he wanted. so he just pushes himself up the bed, crossing the few inches it takes to reach your lips. "love you," he giggles, showcasing a grin that makes his eyes turn into adorable crescent moons before he's kissing you tenderly. oh, so delicately.

outside your window, the rain only falls harder.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 03.06.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Wondering your thoughts on something.

There are these questions floating around like the one you reblogged, of the flavor 'can [identity] [do something that is seemingly contrary to the dictionary definition of identity]?'

Do you think there's ever value to engaging with these conversations?

I ask because I think at some point, for myself, I was wrestling with 'can someone be straight and be with a non-binary partner' and there are layers to a question like that:

1. Can I maintain the stability and comfort and safety of my label despite who I love

2. Can I respect the identity of the person I love without changing my label

3. Is there some value to changing my label or keeping it

4. If I don't change my label but I feel queer can I still belong to a supportive community

5. [Externalized gatekeeping bullshit]

And I know the easy answer is, who cares do whatever.

But when you're in it, that's not an answer that feels productive. Like if I could have just done whatever without consequences I would have, but the consequences of deviating from or refusing to deviate from a strict definition felt very material.

Actually engaging with a sort of reckoning for stuff like that feels helpful. Reaching out to the queer community, seeking others who have wrestled with that question and found success, seeking validation in being strange that goes beyond 'everyone can do anything forever', I see the value in it. That's the community we're supposed to be cultivating, no? That's part of the support part, isn't it? Sharing experiences?

But I also see the value in saying, 'you gotta figure this shit out on your own,' because sometimes you gotta do that. I did. And my answer changed over time. It's just a very lonely process. And when we go through it ourselves it's easy to say, I did it, you can/should too. But then aren't we sitting at the whole 'I paid student loans so how dare they forgive student loans' mentality? Aren't we supposed to be making things easier?

All this to ask, isn't it better to engage with these questions in good faith than to assume it's gatekeeping bullshit? For the people it might help? Is 'you're fine, figure it out for yourself, don't worry about other people' actually engaging it in good faith?

I guess to me the issue is less that I'm against self introspection or that I'm assuming it's gatekeeping bullshit as like. what do you mean, "can x do y?" ? they're already doing that.

"can lesbians use he/him pronouns?" "can aseuxals have sex?" "can transmascs use the word tranny?" "can bisexual women call themselves lesbians?" "can you be trans without dysphoria?" "can a straight person be in a relationship with a nonbinary person?"

like... yes. of course they can. who's going to stop them? all of those things are in fact already happening and have been happening for longer than you can imagine. and the world kept turning. go drink a lemonade about it or something.

#queer stuff

[writinginthetwilight]

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Knock, knock.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader, use of the nickname sweetheart. Eddie pov. Reader pov. Fluff, yearning, awkward flirting, angst, jealous reader, depressive state, comfort, mentions of past toxic relationships, dubious explanations of electricals, stress. Strong language. Nightmares. Whispers in the walls. Horror/creepy vibes.

See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Author note: Thank you for the love on the last chapter, you beautiful humans. I offer to you a vignette chapter that has a bit of everything, some burning in our slow burn between these two

Featuring some new… guests.

As always, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world and being wonderful.

Extra thanks to Somna for beta reading and letting me use their green carpet Eddie edit for the header💙.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Love you bye.

Part 7 - Vignette knots in Lachesis's thread.

“They moved the door.” one whispers

“They moved the door?”

“They moved the door.”

“Broke the hinges.” another hisses

“It doesn't fit.”

Drip.

He's not as quiet as he thinks he is.

It's an obvious hush.

One that floats through the silence of the morning, the cadence of his footsteps is soft but he's all elbows and heavy hands, clumsy movements and low mumbling.

The sound travels in under your bedroom door and pulls you gently from a reality you can't recall, you always drift back under once you hear him leave.

The sound of your alarm however, once chosen because of the relatively pleasant sound now grates immediately and has you reaching out blindly to turn it off as quickly as possible.

Stumbling from your room, the morning sun blinds you as it coats the walls in amber.

Cotton mouth and achy joints accompanying you as you stretch your arms above your head, a breath pausing in your chest as you spot the paper sticking out from underneath your front door.

Heavy ink is partially visible through the page as you pick it up, the paper folded twice into a rough square, the creases off centre and you flick the fanned edges which stick out as you start your morning.

You don't read it yet, you wait until there's hot tea and toast which is overdone on one side to accompany his words. Building a little excitement into the morning before the day gets going into a predictable routine.

Your knuckles press into your grin as your eyes finally take it in.

The first read is always a hurried intake of words, greedily consuming what he has to say. You'll read it again with more clarity once the sleep has been washed from you.

But his plans for the day aren't why you're smiling, there's a second page

“Thought I'd make you a character sheet.”

Apparently you're a rogue, and he's drawn you or, a version of you anyway. It's all crude black lines and blue ballpoint shading, you're grinning, nose high.

“Chaotic good.”

He graces you with the ability to make your own back story but.

“Within reason, I've been writing something in case you ever want to play while we're trapped in the planes.”

A rogue.

You look down at yourself, standing in off white underwear and a t-shirt with bleach stains littering the hems.

Sunlight dapples over the paper where your character stares back at you, and your thumb traces the shape of a sun that rests over the chest.

Emotion bubbles up your throat and you shake your head to rid yourself of it.

Your tea is going cold.

“We cannot keep it out.” One says.

“The tide is sprawling.”

“It's imperceptible, they don't know.”

“Like the frog that slowly boils.” says another.

Drip.

A rouge, only dressed in cotton and oversized socks.

He's starting to wonder again if he's made this all up, if you're a character he's imagined. He'd have a little more control over you though if that was the case, right?

“Do you have to go fucking near it.”

You turn to look over your shoulder at him, eyes sparkling with mischief.

He doesn't know how you're so calm, it's a dream you keep on saying, but it all feels pretty fucking real to him.

His hands itch to pull you back, keep you away, but instead he chews his lip, arms crossed tightly as he watches you with a frown.

“It's fine, I'm just looking.”

Your socked feet toe the line between the back of your couch and the abyss which hums lowly.

It's a near perfect match for the sound that made him feel like he was going to puke up a lung, but it's low, far away and it's the only thing that has come from it in the weeks since.

He still refuses to get close to it though.

He had graduated from sitting on the floor by the light to sitting on the arm of his couch, it juts out at a 90 degree angle from the centre of your own, far enough away to feel acceptable.

Then you'd said he “looked like Gollum perched there.”

So out of spite, he refuses to even go near it again.

You'd apologised, tried to pull him back over, but he's nothing but dedicated to the bit, or stubborn whichever you want to call it.

“You said it could be another world-”

“Full of shit that will suck out your soul.”

His tempers flaring anxiety making his skin feel too tight as he watches you.

“You're not even a tiny bit curious?”

The feeling evaporates as you approach him, arms falling to his side as he rolls his eyes at the same argument you've had almost every time you've seen him since he showed you those books.

“I just don't want to be sucked into oblivion," he says, pressing his fingers to his chest and leaning toward you.

You raise your eyebrows, a smile escaping through pressed lips “What you're into is your own business. ”

He falters at your words.

“Th..That doesn't even make sense.” he tries, his usual quick comebacks are turning to ash and leaving his mind blank as his back straightens uncomfortably.

You just shrug still smiling, and he avoids your eyes, willing his brain to think of something other than… Shit.

He looks past you, eyes searching for something to stop you looking at him.

A coaster sits on the side and he picks it up, turns it over in his hands, and throws it into the void.

It's swallowed without a sound.

Your head whips around to follow it and he slumps.

“Hey! What the hell?”

He goes to speak, something snarky about being ‘curious’ but the wind’s knocked from him as it comes hurtling back, hitting him square in the chest and bouncing limply onto the floor.

His hand immediately grabs at the place it hit, eyes wide and heart thrumming too quick.

You snort loudly from beside him and his eyes dart to you.

“That's not funny.” He says, voice pinched a little as he still grips his shirt.

Muffled laughter slips between your fingers that are now clasped over your mouth and you shake your head.

His nostrils flare, temples already aching from the frown he's wearing, but the longer he looks at you, mirth crinkling the side of your eyes as you try not to laugh, the more he struggles to maintain it.

He sucks at his teeth, eyebrows raising.

“You finished?”

Your eyes flit to the dark and another bubble of laughter breaks free when you look back at him.

“Can you stop going near it, before something grabs you.”

“Boundaries made by man hold little ground,” says one pacing.

“Broken ones even less, the tides will spill.”

“Fix it.” spits another.

Drip.

The days are still long, office life mundane, but the weeks are starting to pass a little quicker.

Home's finally becoming the reprieve that you desperately need, but today the hours have felt longer than you thought possible.

You'd woken like this, a little numb for no reason, a little frayed and tender despite the 8 hours of dreamless sleep. You couldn't shake it, the feeling of ghosts hanging around your neck all day.

Now, the last strands of you are snapping, coming undone with every minute that you wait for the god damn elevator.

It never arrives, and you drag yourself up the stairs at a snail's pace, passing the metal gate that's ajar on the second floor, taunting you.

You don't get on it out of spite.

Your door looms back at you when you reach it, rough wood and mismatched frame, you swallow harshly.

You thought you would feel better when you got home.

But the door feels heavier than usual, muscles in your arm biting out in protest at the force needed to open it and you wince as you fall in the threshold.

A distant chime makes you pause as you slam it closed.

A warped, ringing.

He didn't.

It rings again

He did.

“You bought a bell.” You exhale the words more than you say them, they're meant to hold laughter, but your voice barely lilts.

“I am but a merciful roommate.” He rings it again. “Found it at a thrift store for a buck.”

The sound floats oddly down to you from the scar, gnarled protrusions singing, it makes your teeth sit on edge.

You try to smile to yourself, wordlessly pulling yourself over to the couch and collapsing back as the silence hangs, thick and suffocating.

“Thought you'd be more into it, unless you're secretly into me scaring you” He laughs, but it's a little hollow and you cringe to yourself.

“No,” you say, squeezing your eyes closed, “thanks it's funny. Sorry.”

The silence drags out again, you know he's still there, the lack of heavy footsteps that follow him everywhere absent as you curl into yourself a little. You just want to be alone, want him to leave, want-.

“You okay?”

The question catches somewhere in your chest, like fabric caught in a zipper,makes your breath feel a little uneven.

Because you are okay, it's just.

“I'm fine, it's just, I'm. I'm probably going to hang out in my room tonight. I won't be much company“

“Oh, yeah, uh sure.”

You sit up, an outline of clothing and belongings left in your wake as you move to close out the world.

“You know,” he starts, voice curling down and around you “I'm like here, if you need to talk, or whatever.”

Your footsteps falter, head turning to look toward the crumbling plaster that stares back.

You hug yourself, willing the feeling away.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Eddie.”

You crawl into bed, not bothering to fully change, just hoping that you will sleep and the tightness in your chest will be gone when you wake.

Sleep doesn't come though, hours passing with eyes closed, consciously drifting in white noise and darkness.

You're not sure what time it is when you hear it, the faint sound of music playing behind the wall, it makes you adjust from where your head’s been buried beneath blankets.

He's playing guitar.

Something soft and repetitive.

A knock sounds against the wall.

You don't knock back, but the weight around your neck lessons a little.

“It didn't work.” One whispers

“They can't be here, if we know.”

“They do too.” another finishes.

“I can hear them already, their laughter’s like mould.”

Drip.

“Do you write a lot of your own stuff?” Your voice is muffled a little from where your head rests awkwardly against the arm of the couch so you can watch him play.

He's moved the couch, a compromise born of an argument the last time you were here.

He didn't want to be anywhere near the abyss, you wanted to keep an eye on it despite it not doing, well anything lately really.

So the couch was moved, backed up towards the wall of light where you now lie watching Eddie, he’s lying on the threadbear carpet adjacent to where your door should be. Playing songs and telling you stories of teenage boys making noise in a garage somewhere in nowhere Indiana.

“Yeah, but I mean we still play the classics, you know, gets the crowd going when there's something they all know.”

He looks relaxed for possibly the first time, that you've seen. Speaking to you with his head tilted, eyes soft and stories of his life tumbling out as you listen.

His fingers lazily pluck a tune as he pries his eyes from you and stares at the ceiling, a low hum falling from his chest as he plays you a song you don't know.

It's almost peaceful, and you take in the halo of hair around him, black tee riding up so alabaster skin shows the start of a tattoo you can't make out, fingers moving, practised motions over the strings.

You blink away the stare, shifting awkwardly and swallowing as your eyes flit up to his which are now closed.

“So do you think you will get together sometime soon?” You say around your tongue which suddenly feels too big for your mouth.

“Last time I saw Grant he said Ruby’s sleeping now, so hopefully we can get in some practice, but it's whatever.” he sighs, fingers pausing their movements. “Everyone's busy, it's fine.”

“It's nice they're so close though.”

He gives you a thoughtful look. It's only for a moment but you see it.

You'd taken him up on his offer to talk, hand forced slightly after your ex had changed his number and managed to call you one night while Eddie was narrating a game show you'd never heard of.

Then it all came out, he'd been quiet, let you talk until you ran out of breath. Then he'd been, sweet, funny and then a little angry. You'd made him promise to just forget about it and he hadn't brought it up since.

But now, every time he speaks about his friends you can see him remember, his face changing, a pause in his words that tells you he's gone somewhere else in his head.

“Eddie.” you warn pulling him back.

A wet rhythmic sound comes from the abyss cutting you off from scolding him.

It gurgles, pops and slithers from different points and Eddie crawls quickly up onto the couch beside you.

Then it's gone, as fast as it came.

The drip sounds louder than before in the silence that's left behind.

You look over the impersonation of your shared living space for anything that may be lurking and realise, his hands holding your forearm, side pressed against yours, like he's ready to drag you away.

You look from where it rests to his face which is still trained on the darkness.

At least you have him.

Kind of.

“They will see it soon, surely.” One says.

“They must.”

“They ignore it.” says another.

“They blind each other.”

Drip.

“Thought he was just sending a mic, shit.” he mumbles, box heavy in his arms as he takes the stairs two at a time.

He feels giddy like a kid on Christmas, it has been a long ass 6 weeks.

The fact you had been paid and ordered your mic, only for it to be delivered the next day made him antsy, checking the mail every day only to be left disappointed.

He's tired of talking into empty space, your voice dipping in and out while he sits uncomfortably in the spots where he can hear you the best.

He wants it to feel, real.

It's too early for you to be home, but he wants to be ready and he barges into the apartment heading straight for the kitchen.

The drawer rattles loudly as he throws it open, and he lets it hang on its runners as he rams a pair of scissors into the layers of tape at the box's seam.

Thick black words tear in half on the address label.

“Sir Eddie Munson”

A letter rests on top and he disgards it, diving into bubble wrap and more layers of tape, shredding the wrapping until he reveals cables, metal boxes and a short boxy mic with a stand.

He stares at it all, displayed out between the ripped apart wrapping and scratches at his jaw.

He's not sure it will work, but if he could pick up your music when the stereo’s were close and you could pick up his then he doesn't see why you couldn't use it sort of like an amp. Speak through it to each other.

Obviously he couldn't tell Henderson that.

“I don't know why you need all this.”

He rolls his eyes, Dustin's voice ringing out inside his head as he reads the letter.

“It's going to sound like shit. Plus you already have a mic and an amp. ”

Had, he thinks bitterly and swallows the irritation that follows the memory of selling them .

He skims over the rambling, half a page of it before the kid finally tells him how to set it up.

He can't just plug it in; he knows that there's no output but it's still pretty simple compared to the convoluted explanations that Dustin’s written, diagrams and all.

He tests it, his voice coming quietly through the speaker as the green light on the screen sits dimly displaying ‘unknown input.’

The sound of your door opening and slamming against the wall makes him jump, a bolt of excitement coming with it.

He falls over his feet through the living room, whipping around before he spots it.

The bell rings out shrill and loud and your laughter fills the space with it.

“You know the bell's kind of redundant if I can hear you running around trying to find it.”

He grins at your snark, “I guess you don't want to know what came in the mail for me today then.”

“It came?!”

Your excitement sends another thrill through him and he grins as you tell him to wait, your belongings clattering as you drop them and you run to get your own stuff.

“Okay. So we set it up where it was the first time?” You say voice coming back to him.

Last time, it seems like so long ago. Before you'd even strolled into his mind in mismatched pyjamas, when he thought he might be dead, for a minute.

“Ready?”

He flicks it back on, the small screen turning pale green again, and his eyes widen as it brightens, numbers rolling across it in quick succession, the silence crackles.

“Testing.”

Your voice comes out through the speaker strong and close and it almost knocks the wind from him as a grin splits his face.

“Did it work?”

“Shit. Hi.” he says, the grin he’s wearing is already aching.

“It works!” The excitement in your voice is palpable, a slight echo ringing out at the volume of it as it leaks through the air.

“Do you think it's just against this wall? Move over to the other side.”

Before he can say anything the line cuts out, screen returning to normal and his stomach drops.

“Are you coming?” your voice calls out from a little further away.

He laughs to himself, feigning irritation “Gimme a second this thing weighs like 30lbs.” He unplugs the behemoth and piles the wires on top, then stares into the empty space.

“Where are you?”

“Kitchen.”

Excitement runs through him, clumsy fingers and hands arranging things quickly in a rush to hear you again.

The switch clicks on and he leans in ready to speak when screeching static roars out, the numbers flying by on the screen in a blur, its increasing in volume like the sound is crawling down the wires.

He yanks the cord out.

“Okay, not there.” You say, nervous laughter evident in the air around him.

His pounding heart slows as he braces a hand on the sideboard.

“Let's try the bedrooms.” Your voice is hesitant as it drifts away and he looks over the wall before turning around as if he'll see you there waiting, he unplugs everything and walks away.

The bedroom works, he should probably say something about what just happened, but you haven't mentioned it either.

Ignoring it is easy when he's here, the worry soon drowned out by laughter and a soft mattress beneath him.

It's comfortable, simple and he doesn't want to leave.

He's ignoring the time.

But you're not.

“Don't you have work?”

He groans, “Yeah.” he looks at the spot beside him where the stereo leans awkwardly against the pillows.

You should be sitting there.

“Think of the money. Work that Munson charm you always tell me about.”

“Tell you about?” he says, pursing his lips and tipping his head back softly against the wall.

“Mhmmm.” There's a tease there in the sound that makes his inside flicker.

“So, you want me to leave?” he says, pitching his voice a little low and equally teasing, a pause follows making him squint, maybe he's read this completely wrong.

“I didn't say that.” Your voice is soft, a little quieter, he expected laughter or an over the top tease.

It catches him off guard, and he nods to himself as a smile creeps onto his face, it drops as he glances over to the clock, he's going to be late.

He takes one last look over your adjoining wall.

“Sweet dreams sweetheart”

“The threads are fraying.” one says, pacing. 

“Like spider webs.”

“They're caught, wrapped up.” whispers another. 

“Like flies.”

Drip.

Light pours through the dark windows throwing light over him, but he casts no shadow. 

“She got it on her like, second go. I swear, that kid's going to be playing the garden before she's out of highschool”

His feet knock against the cabinets below him, the noise ricocheting around the narrow kitchen as you listen to him ramble from your place leaning against the wall across from him. 

A story about his last lesson of the day has bled into tangents, multitudes of stories pouring from him about teaching Lizzy.

It's cute, and you've listened in rapt attention as he gushes about her, but the longer he talks the more you have to hold up your smile. 

“You care about her a lot,” you say, nails dragging bluntly over a bump on your upper arm, not quite meeting his eye “her mom sounds cool too.”

“Oh fuck yeah, she's the best.” He says leaning forward from where he's sat on the counter. 

“Honestly Lizzy wouldn't play half as good if her mom hadn't started her off, I'm just, refining.”He gives you jazz hands and you manage a small smile. 

You can imagine them all, raucous laughter, easy interactions. Warmth and hot drinks, maybe a couple of beers at the holidays. 

It's making you feel sick. 

And it's stupid. 

You know it is. 

So you swallow it. 

But he's perceptive, irritatingly so and his head tips to the side, as big brown eyes try to catch yours.

You can't let him, he'll see. 

That you're jealous, in the most mundane way. 

Jealous of the people who get to walk down the street with him, go grocery shopping with him, cook with him, watch the skies change over the course of a day with him.

So your feet carry you away, to the end of the room. “Maybe Corroded Coffin and her can go on tour some day.”

You hear his feet hit the floor behind you, plaster and dirt being knocked aside as you draw marks in the dust on the counter,  back facing him. You can feel him looking at you and you peek over your shoulder at him. 

“What?” Your voice is small and you cough to cover it. Smiling in a faux confusion that you're hoping will make him leave it alone, but he only mimics your expression. 

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You're being weird.”

“No I'm not.” You clench your teeth at how defensive your tone is, turning to face him fully and leaning back.

“Yeah, you are. We were talking then you just.” he waves a hand over your face. Eyes lingering on yours and pinning you to the counter 

“What?”

Please leave it be, you plead into your mind and it's like he heard it, saw it maybe, because his eyes flit away.

He flicks up the lid of a pizza box, making a small sound of approval before pulling out a slice. 

“Don't eat that.'' You say nose wrinkled and he pauses, slice mid way to his mouth. 

“It's still good, I had it for dinner.”

“That's not the issue.” Your laugh is small but it's there and the tension in your chest lifts a little at the change of subject. “It's pizza from here.” 

He shrugs, going to take a bite and you pull at his arm. 

“You can't be hungry, we're sleeping.”

“It's fine.” he pulls away his arm and you grimace at him as he takes a bite, his face thoughtful and over exaggerated as he chews. 

“You're going to be sick.” You say as you watch him.

It's a sly grin he gives you after he swallows, and he leans in so his face inches closer to yours. 

He pulls off another bite, chewing around a smile.

“You're gross.” You can't help the genuine smile in your voice and he grins in return. 

Behind the wall away from prying eyes, the darkness twitches at its edges, the scar sparking in time.

“Enough.” says One. 

“They will not listen.”

“They cannot, they do not understand.”

“Make them.” Says another standing.

Drip.

Speaking through the stereo has become the new norm over shouting at each other through the ether.

It's odd that a little clarity in his voice feels like such a monumental change, but the ease of just picking up the mic and knowing you'll be able to sit and speak without straining to hear him makes it so much easier to fall into conversation.

Words that were usually kept for morning letters or when you met in your sleep are said over dinner, he reads books aloud to you when there's nothing good on TV, it's comfortable, easy.

There's always been a disconnect, a barrier of the surreal that meant it was easy to switch off, but now.

It's domestic.

You hear him pad over, back from a shower that was needed, “to wash the last house offa him”.

The mic crackles to life across from you “So.”

“So?” You say leaning into it, eyes still trained on your TV as you look for something to watch.

“You got any plans for, sleeping?”

“Any plans for sleeping?” you tease.

“Yeah you know, I'm just pretty tired so I might not be up for reading and, I mean I'll probably head to bed round… 10. So if you want to, carry on.. ”

“I'm pretty tired,” you say, failing to fight off a smile.

“Yeah? Cool, okay. So, what you doing? ”

It's not like you hadn't arranged to meet up in the planes before, but lately the reasons to meet there were less about wanting to explore what lay there and more just wanting to, be there.

As you drift to sleep and then slowly wake to the sound of the drip it sends adrenaline through you, no longer just because of the nightmare-scape that waits outside your door.

He appears through the light as you walk around the edge of the puddle, still slowly growing outside your bedroom door.

Book in hand, thumb jammed between the pages where you left off and a grin on his face.

He looks warm.

Face flushed, hair a mess, sweats hanging off lanky limbs. Comfortable.

“Shall we continue?” He shakes the book in his hand and nods his head towards the couch.

A whisper, in the back of your head that appears from time to time tells you that you're going to regret this.

This isn't right.

What good could come of this?

You smother it.

It's an awkward dance that proceeds you both taking opposing sides of the couch, both deciding to have your feet up, knees curled against the back pillows.

Then he starts.

The couch cushion’s soft beneath your head as you listen, his rings glinting in the light where he holds the book against his knees.

He forgot to take them off again.

Every character has a different voice, memorised words flowing easily from him and you can tell when he finds himself funny, his eyes lifting to yours to see if his inflection has you grinning.

He was made to tell stories.

You're not sure when it started or who started it.

The slow conscious rearrangement of your legs that's closing the gap between you, but both of your feet are edging, painfully slow towards the centre of the couch.

It's not like you've never touched the guy and you're a goddamn adult but, fuck if this doesn't have you feeling like you're back in high-school, all nervous intention covered up in a nonchalant guise

Striped socked toes stretch and adjust towards you and you pretend not to see.

You wait a few minutes, nerves twitching at the muscles in your legs, you nudge yours a little closer and catch his eyes flitting from the book to your feet, he doesn't miss a word, but adjusts himself so that his foot's now parallel to yours.

You press your foot down into the couch cushion and it moves forward a fraction, a fraction more than you thought it would and your foot’s brushing up the side of his.

His voice falters, and you bite your cheek to stifle the smile that's threatening to break out.

He reads on, his toe coming up to rub gently against your ankle, and you're drowning in petulant butterflies which want to crawl out your throat, you lean into it returning the gesture.

Risking a look up, you watch as he talks through a smile.

Something from the corner of your eye flashes in the dark, but when you turn there's nothing there.

…

…

…

There's a sound.

Is it the sea?

It dips in and out.

Waves.

You can't see, your body erased by dense black.

Your feet carry you forward nonetheless.

There's one light, a thin line which stretches over your head to infinity, both in front of you and behind.

“Hello?”

Your voice ricochets back at you from all angles, varying volumes and delays making you flinch and turn in place.

You keep walking, footsteps making no sound.

Dread builds the further you go, the overwhelming sense of everything being wrong.

It's suffocating.

You try to stray from the path you've been walking, but your feet won't move any faster and the line above you never moves from your line of sight, always stretching out to show you a path to nothing, no matter which way you turn.

Then it starts to shake.

Like somebody's pulling the ends taught, causing it to vibrate. The sound of a storm surrounds you, and you watch in unfounded horror as the light breaks, fraying and falling apart, pieces caught and swept away by gusts that you can't feel.

Then it's gone.

Everything.

No sound.

No light.

No up or down, you're not even sure you can feel your feet on the ground anymore.

You're adrift in nothing.

Panic rises to almost the point of hysteria. You can't even move.

“You're not meant to be here.” Comes a voice spoken against the crown of your head.

The scream that rips out your throat rattles your chest as you thrash in the dark.

Frantic knocking comes from behind you but your blood’s still pounding in your ears.

Kicking away your blankets, you back-up until you meet cold wall and the radio beside your bed crackles to life.

The worlds coming into focus too quickly, pixelated shadows dancing in the dark.

Eddie's calling your name almost as frantic as you.

“Sweetheart, I'm fucking begging you here!”

His voice makes its way to you finally, a sob wracking you as you try to breathe, turning on the light, trembling hands pull his voice towards you as far as wire will permit.

You push your head into your knee cradling the microphone to your chest.

“A dream.” you choke out.

“It was just a dream.”

Drip

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[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 20

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n this is dedicated to the three readers who left such lovely messages after the last chapter, particularly the one who left a long list of tags when reblogging the masterlist yesterday. just a reminder that i love and appreciate you, and your comments mean the world <3

previous | masterlist | next

---

You're sitting in a small, empty waiting room, away from the hustle and noise of the main room, when I.N flies through the open doorway and straight across the room, his feet moving so fast that you swear he almost crashes into the wall on the other side.

"Hide me," he says, sliding onto the floor on the far side of your seat.

You blink in confusion, frowning as you look down at him. "What?" 

"From Changbin," he says, his breath hitching in his throat like he's been running for miles, and aggressively waves a hand towards the door. "Don't look down here. Hide me."

"I.N-AH!" Changbin's voice cries in the hallway as if summoned by the very mention of his name, the final syllable drawn out long and loud. The sound, and the grimace that covers I.N's face in response as he sits there curled against the wall makes you crack a smile, your eyes tearing away from him and back to your phone screen just in time to feign innocence as Changbin appears in the open doorway, a wide grin on his face as his eyes search the visible parts of the room.

"I.N-ah~," he calls, cajolingly now, and leans through the door as if that will be enough to entice the younger boy out, to make him forget about the deranged yelling that had followed him down the hallway just a moment before. "Come on, I.N-ah. I just want to give you my love."

From behind him, you spy Hyunjin with a camera in one hand, hovering over Changbin's shoulder as he hesitates to come into the room. His other hand is covering his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. "He's not in here," you tell them, resisting every urge to look down at the boy hiding behind your chair - or to break, a laugh trying its hardest to bubble up to the surface of your lips no matter how hard you shove it down. "He ran past going that way." You point out to the hall again, in the direction Changbin had been heading.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, eyes narrowed like he's trying to figure out if you're lying or not. "I saw him come in here," he says, but only like he's testing the waters - not like he's sure of the fact, or willing to defend it with his life.

A smile creeps across your face. "You're seeing things again," you say, and watch him scoff and bluster, withdrawing from the doorway. 

"Our noona is lying to me," he says to the camera, and then giggles when he looks back to see the look on your face before he leaves, saying something to Hyunjin that you can't quite hear when their voices fade down the hallway, following their footsteps.

Several seconds later, I.N climbs out of hiding, circling around you to slump onto the other end of the couch in a sigh of relief. "I knew I could trust you," he says, a hand tossing his hair away from his forehead and then reaching to drag his own phone out of his pocket.

"Is this what you usually do for your vlogs?" you ask in return, your phone sinking into your lap. "A lot of screaming and running around?"

A wry smile crosses I.N's face. "Changbin does that anyway. Hyunjin just happened to be holding the camera when he grabbed me." He pauses, and then adds, "Isn't this how every practice goes too?"

You shrug. "There's usually less chasing. Maybe it's just because the practice rooms are smaller."

"And they can lock the zoo animals in with us." You snort a laugh and lift your phone again, your restless scroll continuing. Several seconds of silence stretch between you before I.N comes up with another question. "What are you doing in here alone?"

"Nothing," you sigh, and the phone drops away from your field of vision again, replaced with the sight of the other side of the room. White walls, folding tables covered in mess, abandoned chairs. Boring. Thoughtless. "Trying to find something to do that isn't thinking about tomorrow. I don't know, nothing important."

"You could always poke Changbin into tackling you," I.N suggests lightly. "Usually when that happens to me, I can't even remember what I was doing before."

You wince at the thought of it; so far, you've stayed away from the roughhousing that occasionally breaks out and you'd not intended to get involved in the future. Not as a victim, anyway. "I'm good, thanks," you reply wryly, making light of the curl of anxiety that rattles at your ribcage for no particular reason. "It was really loud up there earlier, so I came down here."

"I should have come with you," he sighs. "I didn't know we were being nervous in peace down here."

The way you look at him, head turning sharply and eyes narrowing as your thoughts race to catch up, makes him do a double take, confusion clouding his eyes. "You're nervous?" you ask; and sure, it's not so strange when you think about it and remember the jitter of nerves that crawls up and down your spine every time you go near that stage, but for him to feel like that too, a whole day before you go out there and do the job you came here to do? Surely, after three years, it got easier than that. Surely he couldn't be that nervous.

"Probably not as much as you are," he tells you, "but yeah. It's a big stage, and there's a new song-"

He stops like he is going to say more and then drops it, the end of his sentence hanging unfinished in the air. "I thought you'd be more...used to it, by now," you say, a hand waving in the air vaguely like that will help to explain your case. "Not that you wouldn't be nervous at all, but..."

"I think the others are," I.N says, leaning back into the cushions of the couch with a shrug that slumps his shoulders downward. His hands fiddle idly with his phone in his lap, snapping the case on and off as he thinks. "I feel like I'm still learning though, like you. That's why Lee Know teaches me a lot."

You're aware that you're staring at him like he's crazy, but he takes it in stride, not even flinching under your scrutiny. "If you're this good and still learning, I've got no hope," you tell him, and then you slump back too, one leg sliding up under you so that you can lean on your shoulder.

He openly scoffs at you. "You're just as good as me. And you came in here and just started...fitting in and working."

"That's a lie," you insist, but the absurdity of it all makes a breathy laugh bubble up from inside your chest, easing the tension that keeps building there. "I don't think I fitted in at all when I started. Sometimes I still can't believe that I'm actually going to make it to debut; or that I even belong here."

I.N's lips twist, his eyes softening. "Sometimes I don't either," he admits.

You laugh again, this noise far more undignified than the last one. "Wild thing to say when you've been in a successful group for three years."

The look he gives you is cutting, his eyebrows raised high. "Yeah?" he questions. "And you saying you're not going to debut is any different?"

"I haven't debuted yet, global idol," you point out. 

"Because tomorrow is so far away," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"Technically, I don't debut until an official comeback," you argue.

"You think you're just going to leave after performing with us tomorrow?" he scoffs. "Be more serious. It's embarrassing for you."

"I am being serious!"

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm calling Changbin to come and get you."

"Not if I leave first."

You stare at each other for several seconds, your phone raised in the air between you like a threat. I.N is the first to break, lips pinching together tight in an effort to swallow the smile that eventually breaks them, the giggle that bubbles up at how stupid an argument this is. "Don't call Changbin," he says, breaking about as fast as you'd expected him to. "I'll break your phone."

"Who are you, Seungmin?" you question; your phone moves out of his reach anyway, just in case. "You spend too much time together."

"Only since you came," I.N throws out carelessly. "He won't leave me alone." The way he says it is innocuous, like he truly doesn't mean anything by the words, and you believe it; but still, it sticks in your mind.

"No one leaves you alone," you point out, carefully stepping around the implication that Seungmin likes hanging out with you. Or taking care of you. Or something. "You're too cute to ignore."

The face I.N pulls is disgusted, the mirror image of the expression he gives the other boys when they start paying him too much attention. "Maybe you spend too much time with Changbin," he suggests.

The dryness of his tone is funny enough to make you laugh, the noise bursting unbidden from your mouth. "I'm just stating a fact," you assure him. "You're cursed with that face. There's nothing you can do about it now."

"Have you ever toured in Australia?" you ask some time after Chan has taken over the laptop again, your career as Stray Kids' producer as short lived as it was spontaneous. You're sitting now in one of the armchairs from across the room, dragged over next to the table in the pretense of having any kind of input in whatever he is doing as he fiddles endlessly with the details of Han's song.

"We went last year," Chan says, glancing up at you. "Why?"

You shrug carelessly, leaning back in your chair. "Just wondering. I haven't been back in a while. It'd be nice to go one day."

He pauses a moment longer, his hands on the keyboard. "How long is 'a while'?"

You realise you might have made a mistake when your lips press together around the answer, reluctant to give it. "Since I came to Korea?" you spit out eventually, when the tension in the air reaches the breaking point between too late to answer and not saying anything at all. 

The look he gives you says everything he needs to, though his mouth opens to back it up anyway. "You haven't been home in - six years?"

"Sixish," you confirm. "Something like that."

"Why?" he presses. "You've never had a holiday?"

"I've never had time," you say defensively. "Every time my holidays came up, I was working on evaluations or something, so I just never got there."

He shakes his head, returning to his work. "We'll tour in Australia," he says, like it's a promise that is his to keep, not some employee of the company whose name you don't know. "And you'll get a holiday before that."

"Why do I feel like you're going to force me to take a holiday?" you ask, drawing your legs up underneath you.

The look that he shoots at you between edits on his computer screen is withering enough to belong on Minho's face - and without words attached, his gaze saying what it wants all by itself. "Did you take every holiday you had as a trainee?" you ask. 

"Most of them," he answers primly. "And I went home a couple of times too. Like a normal trainee."

"Don't call me weird," you say, but there's no heat behind your voice - only the weakness, maybe, when the realisation of how much time and distance has stretched between you and a place you keep calling home, brushes up against your mind. You hold it at arm's length rather than embracing it, unwilling to sit here and cry about it on a night like this. 

"You're not weird," he answers. "Just unsocialised."

"Unsocialised?"

The incredulous look you give him is met with a laugh, the sound of it high and infectious as it invades the room. "No one ever taught you how to do anything except work," he explains. 

"Hey," you say, as if you're offended. "I'm fun. I know how to have fun."

"How to have fun at work," he insists. 

"Are we not having fun right now?" you question.

"And what are we doing right now?" he fires back, pointing at his laptop.

It takes you several seconds to realise the corner he's backed you into, your eyes tracking from the laptop to him several times. "Working," you sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around your knee, drawing it up towards your chest like a shield as you sag into the back of your seat.

"It's okay," Chan says smugly. "At least you are fun to hang out with. Some people don't even have that going for them."

"I'm so fun," you insist, knowingly doubling down to avoid having to accept the compliment. "Companies can't resist me. Teachers never want me to debut and leave their classes. I'm the most fun person in the world."

"Everything you just said was about work," he points out with a wolfish grin.

You sigh again, loud enough that he can't miss it. "Maybe it's all I think about," you allow. "Maybe after this and comeback, I could make time for something else."

"After comeback?" he echoes. "That's another month away."

"And yet, it haunts me."

A smile pulls at his lips, but he doesn't reply, distracted by whatever he's fixing on his laptop. You wait as he listens to the song, running one part over and over again and fiddling with a fine detail you can't see or hear, even if you were the one looking at it. 

His voice catches you by surprise when he speaks a minute or so later, your ears just grown used to the comfortable silence that had fallen over the room. "I never asked why they took you out of Midnight."

"Oh." You sit back, rubbing at your tired eyes. "I didn't 'fit the image they had for the group'. Not pretty enough."

"I'm sure that wasn't exactly what they meant," Chan says slowly.

An acerbic smile twists at your mouth. "Maybe," you allow. "I don't know. It's the obvious answer - have you seen Midnight? They're all insanely beautiful, and I'm just - okay, I guess."

You have a feeling, as you watch Chan's brow furrow and his eyes narrow in thought, that you might have revealed your thoughts to the wrong boy first. Maybe you should have told Minho instead, or Seungmin or Jeongin, friends that would tell you you're wrong at an arm's length. Chan is a fixer, on top of everything else that he does, and that look in his eyes is only an indication that he's finally narrowed in on his next project.

"Well, you're a better visual than all of us in SKZ," he says, the firm tone of his voice only confirming your suspicions. "And I don't mind if we never look as good as Midnight."

"Lying is such a bad habit, Bang Chan," you say lightly, trying to lift the suffocating, sombre blanket of air that has fallen over the room. "I look at you guys every day. I know how pretty you are."

"You lied first," he scoffs. "Saying you're ugly. You can't just go around spreading rumours like that."

"I didn't say ugly," you argue. "I just said I don't stand a chance next to those other girls."

"Liar," he insists, and struggles to swallow a grin.

"I'm not!" You sit up straight in your chair, the energy that suddenly rushes to your voice unexpected. You realise only a moment later that you've spoken too loud for a hotel room in the middle of the night and swallow down the way that your heart picks up pace and a smile fights for control of your face, lowering your volume before you continue. "I'm telling you, the bar is so high. I waited four years for that debut, and some of those girls just walked in and got a place. Not that they didn't deserve it, but like..."

"Lee Know did that," Chan points out. "Debuted in six months."

"Do you know Ellie?" you ask; and to your surprise, he nods. "I think she was here for weeks before they added her to the predebut lineup. I feel like I don't even really know her, she's been here for so short a time. And she knows idols from all kinds of groups already - the more I think about it, the more I'm like...how did I even think I had a chance? Maybe I should have just known I wouldn't debut."

"Maybe you were just always meant to be here with us," Chan offers before you can spiral any further down that particular rabbit hole - pulling you out into the light, shovel and all, like it is nothing to him. "Lee Know nearly got taken out of the group too, you know. Maybe the people making these decisions just don't know what they're doing."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. "Really?" you ask, distracted by this new piece of information. "I need to watch your survival show. I've missed so many key points."

"No," he groans again, burying his head in his hands. "We're not watching that. Forget anyone ever mentioned it."

"All of you need to get your story straight," you tell him. "Seungmin says I need to watch every piece of content ever filmed, you tell me not to watch any of it; how am I supposed to know what to do?"

"You should know not to listen to Seungmin by now," Chan says. 

"I think we should watch it," you counter just as quickly. "I think it's a great idea."

"No," he insists. "It's four AM. Go to bed. Don't watch bad TV shows."

"You just told me I need a new hobby."

"Get a normal hobby."

"Watching reality TV is a normal hobby."

"Don't watch the show."

You swallow a smile, struggling to keep a straight face as you stand and stretch, your feet wandering one step at a time towards the door. "I'm going to watch the show," you tell him, deadpan. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

"No," he complains again, like if he says it enough he'll be able to stop you. He makes no effort to do anything else though; just sits there and looks pathetic, weighing up whether whining is worth it or not. "Go to sleep."

"Are you going to sleep?" you ask pointedly, taking in the sight of him sitting there at the table, his work still open on his laptop.

The moment that he notices, he closes the laptop, dragging himself out of his own chair. "Yes," he claims, too bold for someone who is always up at this hour. "You know what I'm not doing?"

"What?"

"Watching that show in the middle of the night."

The way he says it makes you crack, a laugh huffing from your throat just before you choke on it and the effort of holding it down. It makes him laugh too, the sound escaping all too easily from his mouth. "Goodnight," you say before he can celebrate his victory, backing towards the door. 

"Goodnight," he echoes, his smile softening his voice and lighting up his face in a familiar, joyous way. Your feet don't hesitate at the sound of it, but your heart does, your chest aching for something you don't think you've ever had, but maybe you have found - your spine crawling at the thought of it being over, even though you will wake up in the morning and he will still be here, and all the others will be around you too, and-

And you will debut, on that stage, in front of the thousands of people that love them even more than you do.

You try to leave the thought behind you as you close the door, back there with Chan, who will have the sense to throw it in the trash where it belongs, but it sticks to you, echoing in the hallway as you take the short walk back to your own quiet room, slinking around incessantly in the shadows when you turn off the lights and slide underneath the covers of your bed, resolving to at least lie here until the alarm goes off in the morning.

Tomorrow, you will debut.

Tomorrow, you will debut.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

#stray kids #stray kids smau #skz smau #bang chan #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee minho #lee know #han jisung #skz han #seo changbin #changbin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #kim seungmin #seungmin #I.N #yang jeongin #felix #yongbok #lee felix #roo writes #queenmaker

[krynutsreal]

Hi everyone, this isn't going to be like my other posts but I do want people to see it.

A while back a mother had reached out to me from Gaza on Instagram to help share their gofundme so that she and the rest of her family could evacuate into Egypt.

They were displaced to the south of the Gaza strip and during that time she had given birth to her new baby daughter. Now they are living in one of the many tents that are in Rafah, with the hopes to be able to take their children to safety as soon as possible.

Her husband, Mohammed, has a brother who is organizing the fundraiser so that the Mohammed family can get to safety.

Here is the link where you can read more about them as well as donating if you're able to!

I know that this seems out of nowhere, especially considering that there are terrible people who scam others pretending to need help to evacuate. But for a while I had been planning to post something for this family since I've seen the mothers profile ( lalosham on Instagram ) and have seen her posts. I also had asked her permission to make a post on here and she let me. Had this genocide never started she wouldn't have had to post her children begging for people to help donate.

This is probably one of the only posts where I DO want people to share and reblog as much as they can. While you may not be able to donate, I know for sure that you can reblog, and that reblog can help show it to someone who is able to donate.

That is all, thank you for your time.

🍉

#gaza #all eyes on rafah #ceasfire now #free palestine #free gaza #important #i will probably be putting this as my pinned until i can make a proper post that can also list other resources to help #rather than me just reblogging them #but please share !!! i regret making this post so late but it is better than not posting at all #im also going to be making a post like this on Instagram so if you follow me there then keep an eye out for it

[lathalea]

Lathalea's HUGE Follower Celebration Coming Soon

Today was the day I checked my follower list for the first time in a year or so and 👀👀👀 WHOOOOAH! There's so many of you here, my lovelies, I had no idea🤩🤩🤩

I would like to do something special for you as a thank you for following this blog to celebrate this nice round number. But what is it going to be? You tell me!

Any other ideas? Let me know in DMs/comments/asks!

I'll be back here in one week to check the results of this poll and then we'll start celebrating! 🎉🎉🎉

RULES: 💎 If one of the writing-related events gets picked (Prompt Game, Tarot Game, Writer Support, Fic Spotlight), I will have 5-10 slots open. The participants will be picked on the "first come, first serve" basis.

💎 For the Art Treat, there will be one art slot open. If you're an artist and would like to be commissioned, please DM me/send me an ask! I'll be taking in prompts from my followers and then the winning prompt for the art will be picked randomly by my doggo. Don't worry, he's a pro, he just drools a lot 🐶

🎉🎉🎉 To take part in the celebration remember that you have to be my follower before it starts!

#i love my followers #follower milestone #follower celebration #lathalea celebrates #thorin oakenshield #fanart #fanfiction #the hobbit #lotr #tolkien #middle earth

[queenendless]

CRIMSON

A/n: I legit don't know how to title this piece. Inspired by @xo-romiiarts and their artwork.

Also Guns for Hire by Woodkid fits this piece so listen to it while reading this or any song that gives dark!GoGe vibes.

CW ⚠️ : 4.7k worded piece with DARK MATURE themes/depictions of murder/genocide, teen dropouts/runaways, angst, hurt/comfort, romance/fluff, already established poly!teen!GoGe x fem!teen!curse seer!reader, set in an AU where the guys did go through with it ... you have been warned. ⚠️

Cause #261 and fanarts of Gojo saying yes to Geto have given me the push to finally get this out. I have been working on this since September of LAST YEAR SO I hope yall enjoy this.

And I'm working on a pt 2 to this set a few months to a year later of the aftermath. Cause Lord, Clan Head Gojo x Cult Leader Geto x Reader but they're dark now kinda I wanna explore in my own way. With them kids. Their kids. And scene.

*DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, COPY, EDIT, PLAGARIZE, AND OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. Rather if you enjoy my fan work, then reblog, like, comment, n follow pls n thnx u.

"You're late, Suguru."

Indeed he was.

"No … I guess you got here fast. There are several Star Religious Group facilities in the city, after all."

Something felt seriously off the moment the snowy-haired sorcerer raised his head.

"Satoru? Is that you?"

The look in his eyes … practically radiating their potent rebirth … a stark contrast to the fading scuffs of blood running down the left half of his face, down both sides of his mouth, weariness evident.

"What happened?"

This was not his Satoru. This one … had seen hell first hand. In a twisted way, they both have today. Literally at death's door.

"I see you already saw Shoko."

"Yeah, she healed me. I'm fine now."

And yet, a long sleeved uniform arm slipped out from under the sheet, swaying a bit til staying still as a lifeless corpse would be.

"No … me being safe doesn't help anything here."

Not when he failed to keep their promise to Riko-chan. She was ready to walk away from the merger with him. Choosing to live for herself rather than follow her pre-chosen fate. Yet, fate had other plans. A cruel one, at that.

"I screwed up. You're not at fault." Gojo sounded so blunt, so calm … willing to accept all the blame for their greatest failure yet.

"Let's head back."

An eerie ringing began penetrating Geto's hearing as the clapping kept going. He chalked that up as an explanation as to why he thought he misheard Gojo's next words.

"Suguru, should we kill these guys? The way I feel right now, I doubt I'd feel anything about it."

As the form of Gojo carrying Amanai's draped body was being overshadowed by the pure white radiance of the smiling clapping cultists, Geto's morality dilemma prodded his mind, unable to meet Gojo's gaze.

"No. There's no point. It looks like there are only common believers here. The masterminds who know about our world have probably fled already. And unlike with the bounty, they won't be able to talk their way out of this. The organization had problems to begin with. It'll be dissolved soon enough."

Geto, standing in the pure white room of morality, starkly contrasted Gojo as he brushed past him and stood in the crimson room of immorality.

"No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?"

Does there need to be a rhyme or reason for them to act on this? Ideally yes. They may be above the laws in most cases, but even sorcerers can't enact vengeance on regular humans. Unless they were curse users or even like the Sorcerer Killer, they couldn't lay a hand on them.

Realistically?

Right now?

The clapping grew louder, mocking him. Antagonizing him.

Gleefully celebrating her death and their own damaged, traumatizing failure.

Geto's left hand curled into a fist.

His morals were conflicting with his personal feelings; his fist shaking in restrained emotion.

His almond eyes, weariness tainting his eyebags, finally looked up.

Out at the clapping, smiling crowd.

"It's very important that there is. Especially for a jujutsu sorcerer."

Even the cruelest scum of the Earth get away scot free, never facing retribution. Darkness grew underneath him, outstretched to reach their seemingly untouchable light, as his fractured moral code made way for his true inner self to finally show its true colors.

"But not us …"

Gojo stiffened. Slightly looking back over his shoulder, peering inside the open doorway, his radiating Six Eyes turned on at the darkened gaze of Geto's eyes slightly looking back in return.

"Not today."

Rage and distraught guides him.

He would right this wrong.

To the bloody damn end.

Now triggered by those firm, final words, Gojo's heightened state as he set Amanai's body down gently on the hallway floor, the anger he didn't feel on her behalf in his rematch against the fallen Zen'in man was finally making its appearance, intertwining with an unhinged drive for chaos in his blood as a twisted gleam overtook his lips.

Survival of the weakest. Discourage the strong. That's how society should be; one where jujutsu sorcerers protect non-sorcerers. That's what he always strived to uphold despite his inner demons. But now… they as sorcerers still failed in the end.

Riko-chan, Kuroi-san, the weak but good ones, now dead by the orchestration of these unforgivable heinous —

"Monkeys." Having seen that monkey assassin's standing corpse himself on his way inside; decimated and dripping with bloodied spilled guts, made Geto wish he could deal the killing blow himself back in Tengen's domain.

This would have to do, feeling ready to puke when he uttered the same word as that scarred mouthed bastard, wincing as the shadowed hole he summoned released his newest curse.

The same cursed worm that draped over his shoulder, opening its mouth to pop out the handle of a cursed tool, one Geto pulled out as swiftly as Gojo began ascending to heights unbound, slicing the cursed energized blade through the air as tears sprung from his unforgiving dark eyes.

"DIE!"

Those monkeys' glee changed to confusion then bursting out in waves of panic as the blade grew in length the more Geto spread his cursed energy into it.

Several heads got sliced sideways, splattering blood over some's prime white apparel, kicked off the shrill hysterics.

In an instant, Gojo blips out of sight only to plow through a row of them scurrying ants in his way like the cursed speedster he had become.

Blowing off head chunks.

Fists jutting right through their torsos right and outta their spines.

Setting off exploding, carnage filled piñatas left and right.

Trained on every weakling in his sight, Gojo's uniform grew darker as more blood seeped further in with each blow.

Reappearing as he grabbed a randomly chosen neck, snapping it in two with ease, before blocking a panicking one that tried socking him from behind, glowing eyes narrowed in as he clenched their fist before ripping their arm right off with swift ease. Their tortured screech is heard one moment, the sound of bones crunching in Gojo's other hand the next.

Through hatred fueled adrenaline, Geto cleaved in them guts to match the mutilated limbs that rolled across the crimson spreaded floor.

Those attempting to flee were squandered as the force field of Limitless smooshed them, splattering the now cracked dented walls; minced red.

Many more sunken noggins soared in the air, sprinkling red from on high.

Screams and splatters became the symphony of Pandemonium.

Flinging the chain around the neck of one, Geto swung them like a chain and ball, crushing many others against the walls.

Those petrified hideous faces get their brains ruptured out; globby chunks vomiting out by mere cursed thought.

Many rammed right into the glass window ceiling, sending cracks racing its wake, the pure white sunlight becoming a neon red.

Shards of glass rained down, deflected by Limitless as the pair found themselves back to back, many were skewered like porcupines.

Limbless lumps of lifeless flesh plastered every inch of the once pristine interior from every wall, crevice, and even the ceiling had scarlet drenching it.

Their haggard breaths and sweaty burning faces aside, their dark craving for retribution still lingered in them both.

It wouldn't be enough.

Not until every last member was eviscerated.

Dismissing the worm, Geto scanned the room, trembling at the grotesque aftermath.

His cerise painted hands hung limply at his sides.

Amiss the madness, their residuals were there.

Fortunately they knew to an extent how to hide them. However long those held out, they couldn't waste a moment. Any longer than that spent here meant capture followed by immediate execution.

Feeling himself moving by a firm grasp tugging on his hand, his light headed state transitioned to a frigged one over what they had just committed. The solid squeeze of Gojo's sizzling hand helped pull him further out of his own unsteady mindset.

"Satoru …" He internally felt revolted at having those monkeys wretched blood covering his skin.

"Suguru."

Through the path of red, his closest friend – his ally in genocide – turned to him with cherry-red streaking his unbuttoned jacket and the collared white undershirt, for his glowing – exhausted – eyes were scarred with the brutal truth. Reaching his stained, steadfast hands out for that stained lost face, Gojo rested his forehead against Geto’s, staring into those stricken eyes of one of his most greatest treasures.

"Come with me. Let's get away.”

Blood trickled down from the ceiling, spilling along their hair, staining their faces, but both couldn't care less as they sealed it with a kiss. Lost in the bloody euphoria, relishing in one another's warmth.

The new taste of searing iron overtook the repelling flavor of cursed spirits, overwhelming the pair as Geto clawed at Gojo's back and the latter's hands massaged the former's supple cheeks, bringing muffled moans outta them both.

It feels right … anywhere … as long as it's with each other. It's just right.

Wherever they end, whatever it may be, may it be nowhere near here whenever whichever sorcerers would be sent to investigate this now scene of massacre.

Once partners in sorcery.

Now partners in crime.

What a send off for them, the newly dropouts.

The clapping halted.

The ringing faded.

Their hearts felt lighter.

But something still felt off.

Someone was missing.

"Y/n." Geto's eyes opened to stare into Gojo's as they parted lips. "We can't leave her behind … we can't …"

Knowing their cursed seer partner probably foresaw the bloody chain of events that had recently just transpired in the last few hours. But knowing how abrupt they can be, maintaining and willing them into your mind’s eye was still a burdening struggle, ergo you being left behind at school for tiring training.

The heavy fog of bloodlust and tension between them lifted for now Geto's eyes lightened at sensing that familiar presence. He knew Gojo sensed it as well, for his glowing eyes followed his lead, taking Riko back in his arms, the duo raced to the surface outside.

You had ran outta the car that dropped you off down the street. You gulped to stifle back the bile at the gory sight of the fallen Zen’in still standing; the bloody puddle reaching for you now.

Your gaze averted once you spotted them coming out, hurrying over, your stomach churning at how scrapped up and red they appeared, but your empathy outweighed the disgust as Geto caught you in his heavy weighted grasp.

The fear in Geto's eyes mingled with confusion and concern. "Y/n … I … we –!”

Gojo’s eyes slanted as you kept your face hidden. "Did you get a vision?”

Your shaky nod against Geto’s chest paired with your ashamed tone. “I was too late … I,” An anxious pause of silence stretched between you three. “Shoko told me where you were headed after healing you … then came another one … of course you two would get Riko’s body back …”

They waited for the heart shattering blow. The final nail in the coffin. You shunning them away, cutting ties immediately. Rejecting them for their heinous act. Fleeing away in horror to Jujutsu High, reporting their sorry asses and ousting them as traitors. All the above — !

“The system would have let these zealots slip through the cracks. They … their assassin … they all deserve to rot in hell for what they've done … all because of Tengen … Kuroi and Amanai have been avenged.” Your callous tone kinda threw them off a tad bit.

Geto gulped. “You … You're okay with it?”

Your head finally rose up, the glossy layer to those e/c eyes sparkled from the sliver of sunset. "I know I can't make up for letting you all down … and no amount of apologies redeem it … but I can do this at least. I'll bring her back to the school, back to Kuroi-san. They deserve to be laid to rest together.”

You reluctantly pull away from Geto’s warmth; uncaring about the red stains smearing your clothes now, to take the wrapped up body as Gojo gently passes her into your arms, melancholy heavy on your face but the strength of resolve aiding you in carrying her. “My place is with you two. Always. Now more than ever.”

Geto’s eyes pricked with burning warmth; your willingness to stay despite everything, as he kissed your temple. “We should be apologizing to you.”

“There's still more of those facilities in the city left standing. We're not finished just yet.” Gojo's voice spoke doom for their upcoming targets, a stark contrast to his own kiss to your forehead being so sweet.

“They all need to go. Every single one of them.” Geto clenched his veiny hands, determined to see this through to the end. “We will return for you. If you wouldn't mind packing our things for us by the time we show up …”

You nodded, sadly smiling. "Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Their brisk nods to you paired with smooches to your cheeks were all you were given before you watched them holding hands then warping away.

The driver stayed silent as they drove your contemplative self, keeping her cold self close to your warmth, back to school for the last time.

°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•

The sun had set.

Crimson painted the sky.

A young girl's life ended by a gunshot to the head.

Two young teens, forced to face the cruel reality of their lives through near death.

The Star Religious Group Headquarters.

House of the Children of the Star.

Their monotheistic religion spent worshiping their absolute God; Tengen.

Crossing the wrong sorcerers, nearly costing them their lives in the process at the hands of their hired assassin; the Zen'in clan failure.

Their facilities left as ruins scattered in ruble, collapsed craters layering the grounds, red painting the toppled stone and marble.

The trauma of near death, failing to keep their promises to protect their friends' lives, and losing to a physically gifted human … their pride as the strongest duo now tarnished.

Retribution.

Selfish desires made to fruition.

With Riko-chan now gone, the assimilation was now void.

Tengen-sama had evolved.

The barrier hiding the school's location was weakened and easily spotted by the Six Eyes.

You solo carried Riko to the morgue, spotting your senpai and fellow kouhai watching you from the distance, ignoring your driver hurriedly running to inform Yaga-sensei of the turn of events, but only making eye contact with Shoko as she was standing out front by the entrance, already expecting you, prepared for the worst.

You two stayed silent, understanding exactly just from seeing the acceptance in your gaze.

Seeing the covered bodies laying side by side on the tables, you prayed over the mother daughter pair, believing the guys would stop by to do the same, hopefully.

As you just finished zipping up one of three duffle bags meant for each of you in your room, you felt the ripples through the Force that is cursed energy.

The fuse was lit. The air pricked with sparks as those two sent off a chain reaction.

You could visualize the facilities up in flames.

“You really are idiots.” Shoko leaned against the open doorway, smoke in her disapproving frown.

“To think they'd go this far … and you're bailing with them.”

“My whole world ended when I lost my mom. My dad was a broke ass deadbeat. Then I was discovered, brought here and met you all. You became the family I needed … so I thought that was enough. But those two … they're my everything. We ride or die together. You can join us or stay here. That goes for you two as well, ya know.”

You felt Haibara and Nanami hiding behind the wall before joining Shoko in the sliding doorway. By the looks on their faces, the news spread like wildfire.

“If I go with you guys, then the higher ups will force my sister to take my place.” Haibara frowned at the guilty truth.

“Rules and regulations keep us in line, as much as they suck.” Nanami sulked.

“Those old cods view us all as disposable tools. We're not heroes. We have our own ideals, desires, lives even. And if it means I may die down the line because I choose to walk away, then I'd rather die with freedom than serve them as their obedient lapdog.” You spoke devotedly.

“I don't get it.” The blunt tone and her aversion to eye contact made you realize how left out she still felt that her two crazy guy friends were willing to leave them – leave her – behind.

“It'd be nice to have you by our side Ieiri … but I know you still have Utahime to consider.” You grinned at seeing the tiny pink tinted rise to her cheeks.

“You guys are our classmates! To have you and our senpai be branded as curse users, I don't want to have to fight you guys!” Haibara's angry tears made your heart waver. Your own eyes burned with cursed energy.

The static film reel of seeing your guys getting savagely brutalized, Riko and Kuroi's murders, even further down the line … glimpsing Haibara scarred and pale and so damn still —

“You're still our friends. Always.”

Even with glistening chibi eyes and stubbornly pursed lips, Haibara realized you had made up your mind, reaching Nanami's hand to squeeze and be his anchor.

“It's not a crime to be a kid, but the accumulation of life's little despairs make you become an adult. Remember that.” Nanami understood that much, knowing the guys are capable of setting the world on fire when pushed too far. Like so.

Blinking back tears yourself, you nodded. “If you ever need us or change your mind, you know how to reach us.”

Throwing the duffle bags outta the window before jumping out yourself took them all by surprise. Jutting their heads out, they were relieved yet anxious spotting Geto's manta ray cursed spirit flying away, the bags and you safe across Suguru's lap and wrapped up in his arms.

His crestfallen gaze back at them was the last sight of him they received when they also spotted Gojo floating on high, gazing at them, the living example of Nanami's parting words to you.

Knowing deep in your intuition they snuck into the morgue to pay their final respects to Riko and Kuroi before retrieving you, you kept quiet about it, trusting them wholly to catch you as well.

On that day, everything changed.

On that night, there was no turning back.

But to both yours and Geto's surprise, the boldness of Gojo as he landed right by you both on the manta ray and grasped Geto's shoulder, his suggestion for a hideaway took your breaths away.

The empty private home – one of quite many – belonging to his family's clan; this one gifted solely to him. Even as fugitives, making such a bold choice to hide there, Gojo sure is a wild child.

Wading in the waters of the giant tub to wash away the blood, flushing the pink tinted liquid down the drain, then filling up the tub once more made way for some scented oil that helped elevate the tranquil vibes.

“You're certain?” Geto scrubbed his shoulder length sudsy hair, brushing his wet locks.

“The clan has too many spots all over Japan. We crash her tonight, take what we can to sell for cash in case the geezers fry our bank accounts, then high tail someplace new. Like say, I don't know, overseas?” Gojo's lax assurance transformed him into a chibi in Geto's point of view; resting his head and arms back against the tub's rim.

Almond eyes darkening, catching the scar stretching from Gojo's lithe neck, across that toned chest, and stopping by his hip poking out of the bubbly water.

Exhaustion smeared with piqued intrigue and guilt in spotting the X shaped scar on Geto's sculpted chest.

Red tints colored their faces as pleased sighs left their lips at the warm water loosening up their stiff muscles, fingers weaving through each other's slick hair, bringing their faces closer, brown meeting blue as they stared longingly at each other.

The unique connection ergo magnetic attraction was evident. From clashing freshmen to still bickering but budding sophomores. And now, as fresh genocidal dropouts, they both looked like they aged a lot.

The contrasts, the similarities, their yin yang dynamic.

That and the fuzzy warmth was getting to them.

“I'm really glad you're alive.” Geto nuzzled his nose against Gojo's.

“RCT for the win.” That albino pecked the corner mouth of his raven.

Their tired giggles relieved the tension.

Brushing their bare dripping shoulders together, lips connected, initiating timid soft touches. Drool connected their heated tongues, their heated breath fanning one another's face, oh so close, wanting more.

Your hums of content grabbed their attention as you waded over to them, watching your round cheeks blowing soapy bubbles into their faces.

Running your hands down their scars made your lips tremble at the agony they went through. Entrapped in their arms, you hummed as their lithe hands caressed your supple smooth skin for they were touched by your gingerly layered kisses along their tender marked flesh.

Toru's yawning broke out, worrying you and Sugu who suggested you all start drying up. Toru was the most exhausted being actively awake using Six Eyes for 3 days straight.

But you all were, mentally and emotionally.

The electric dryer rumbled as your wet uniforms swirled within. The AC hummed in the backdrop.

Duffle bags left open as you three laid in the enormous bed, you three snuggled in close on the center.

Setting up a small simple altar in honor of Riko and Kuroi in the room gave you all some peace of mind, especially when burning some smoky incense to cleanse the place. To pray and hope that their souls were in a better place than the hell they're stuck on called Earth.

“I detest humanity. Swallowing cursed spirits made from the worst parts of their very existence for so long confirms that. Killing those cultists put my mind at ease … as horrible as that must be to you.” Suguru's weary gaze shifted to meet Satoru's now unsettlingly calm ones as they laid atop the bed beside each other, clad in just boxers, with you splayed across Satoru wearing just a large tee you all shared just cause.

“You've been feeling this way for a long time, then.” Suguru flushed as Satoru weaved his hand through those silky obsidian strands, free from the metaphorical shackles of his usual restrained bun. “I'm sorry I didn't realize it.”

Suguru's cheek nuzzled his wrist, breathing in Satoru’s cozy scent. “I never wanted you to. Or anyone for that matter. These are my own feelings to grapple with.”

Satoru's messy cat hair shook, tickling Suguru's face, closing his stinging eyes to let them rest for the moment as their foreheads touched. “Well, now, we'll carry that burden together.”

“We're branded as curse users now … we're on our own from here … and you're fine with that?” Sugu was skeptical for the most part.

“I never held hatred for anybody before … not even over Amanai's death … but I always knew my life would be spent as a living weapon for jujutsu society … a monster. And now that I've crossed the line … there's no coming back from that … but I'd do it all again …if it mended the pain you felt inside. I just … I don't want you suffering in silence anymore. I never want to leave you behind.” That soothing voice cracked.

Suguru was breathless seeing red in those reopened agonized eyes.

“Still … I took advantage of your heightened state and let my emotions cloud my judgment. I'm supposed to be the moral compass … yet I'm no better than those monkeys … and you nearly died because of them … I'm sorry Satoru … I'm so sorry.” Water hit Toru’s skin as the choked up weeping of his best friend smothered his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. I'm here, aren't I?” Keeping an arm wrapped around his partner, Satoru smooched the crown of Suguru's precious noggin, being tickled by those loose bangs in the face, shushing him and kissing that pierced ear of his. “And even you need to cut yourself some slack and lean on others too, ya know. And realize … you can't get rid of them that easily. You're stuck with this monster for a long time, Suguru~”

That possessive, enamored voice came compelled Suguru to peak out and witness those lovesick eyes; the polar opposite to the tunnel vision of the reawakened Satoru Gojo that approached him with Riko-chan in his arms, struck right to Sugu's core.

The soft warm lamp on the side table paired with the sliver of moonlight between the curtains transformed their eyes into mini galaxies. Their own universe even to dwell in and share together.

“Hmm.” He brushed back Satoru's locks to spot the scar on his forehead to kiss the booboo. “You've bever been a monster to me. Just a goofy idiot.”

Elated chuckles hit his giant lobed ears as his resident goofball pecked his blushing nose. “Your goofy idiot, smart ass.”

“Awwww~”

Flinching at that familiar voice, the guys directed their flushed gazes to you; your cheek mushed against Toru's pillow chest, fawning over them with your e/c eyes round, sparkles and hearts set a glow in ‘em.

“I agree with all the above. Don't mind me. Just get it on with the yaoi goodness.”

“How subtle.” Suguru's eyes crinkled with mirth.

“She's got good taste, though.” Satoru's feline grin followed, rolling you both over to smush you in between them, pecking your forehead. “Period.”

You frowned. “All the apologies in the world can't make up for me letting you two down today.”

“Nonsense.” Suguru disagreed as the back of your head cushioned in between his plush pecs. “Having you here with us makes this shitty day much better.”

“We all screwed up.” Gojo griped before it became a longer deeper yawn.

Your eyes glowed a moment before dying down, alerting them and reminding you. “Time to sleep. Cause we got a lot of shit to think over on how to move forward. For all of us.” His exasperated sigh was met by your chaste lips as you leaned up to kiss him; him returning it to suck them up.

“Yes ma'am.” His pouting turned to a dopey grin; growing wider when Suguru kissed him goodnight too. That finally conked him out, breathing softly, when Suguru's hand wrapped around your side, turning you to lay on your back so he could see you properly; eyes clad in guilt of his own.

“Y/n, in no way should you feel responsible for what happened. That assassin would have killed you too if you had gotten involved. If we lost you as well …” His forehead met yours, letting you kiss him slowly, pulling him in to relish your personal taste. “My hope is that they're in a better place now.”

“Me too … My visions are just as much an omen as they are an aid. In this world there are no guarantees for a peaceful living … but I believe in you two … no matter what … I know in my heart this is worth it, risks and all.”

Your honest smile made him grateful for accepting him, despite all that's happened, his tears hitting your face in response so you kissed his tears away.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His whispers met your lips as you two got caught up in another kiss when you two grunted in surprise as Satoru flipped you both over, smothering you two under his precious heat.

“‘M love you both, mmh so much.” He mewled, sleepy eyes peeking open to drowsily smile down at you two.

“Satoru, we can't breathe.” A red faced Suguru wheezed out.

Satoru languidly laughed, “My bad.”

Thankfully, you three were able to get some shuteye that night.

They're your whole world now.

Deep down inside, they knew they're both monsters, for that day brought the truth to light of their dark potential.

But they're your monsters.

Your empathetic, devious, passionate monsters.

And as far as the truth goes, you too are just the same.

Three of a kind, indeed.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk au #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen au #feral gojo #tw death #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #dark au #gojo x geto x reader #satoru x suguru x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #gojo x geto #tw murder #satosugu angst #satosugu au #horror romance

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Alright let's start off with the primary points:

1 - You do NOT have to give to get.

2 - You do not have to get to give.

3 - Read everything, there's quite a few moving parts =D

Things You Can Do During This Event:

1 - Request a story from me (see the end of the post for the format!)

2 - You can give me a gift! (see "Gifting Quin" below!)

3 - Reblog this post to be entered into a raffle!

Details below the cut!

Raffle Prizes!

-:- 1,000 words of anything you want (within reason) - can be a one-shot, can be a demand for a specific title (make me work on that title you've been dying to read more of). Just has to be One Piece related.

-:- OC Cameo - I'll plunk your OC/self-insert into a story (that is not the Host Club AU ^^; )

-:- I'll draw something for you \o/ I'm not great, but hey, free art xD

Gifting Quin!

❤️ - Pin 5$ to my shirt - it's a local-ish birthday tradition.

❤️ - Share one of my stories and leave a comment \o/ You can do this whenever, but it really makes my day, so have at!

❤️ - Gift me a story, or some art 😳🥰

Ideas (please do NOT send me saucy stuff on anon or if you're under 18):

1 - Draw a scene from any of the stories you've liked! 2 - Draw Quill - by themself, or with you and/or your OC, or a One Piece character \o/ Quill can be a boy, girl, or whatever mix tickles your fancy. Have fun =D 3 - Draw what you see when you think of "Reader" for any given story. 4 - Re-write a scene for a story =O How would you tell me that scene? 5 - Write me a one-shot using the prompts below 😇 6 - Free form a ficlet, drabble, head canon, series of bullet points with ANY anime character and either a "Reader" or Quill =3 Spread your wings beyond One Piece (Wind Breaker, YYH, FMA, MHA, Habin hotel, etc - go wild 🥰)

Feel free to ask me ANYTHING if you're unsure of something

Birthday Bash Requests \o/

Finally, the part you've all been waiting for XD

*** Anon Requests Will be SFW only ***

-:- Give me some reader vibes as applicable (gender/height vibes) -:- Give me a blorbo (or blorbos) - One Piece only please ❤️ -:- Pick something from each of the lists below and then submit your ask! (any items not specified in the ask will be my choice 😇 cause it's my birthday celebration XD )

Pick 1 Vibe: SFW SFW dark SFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW Consensual NSFW dubcon/dark NSFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW noncon Writer's Choice (please include squicks if you pick dark or dub/non con options)

Pick 1 AU: Canon Universe Mafia AU Fantasy AU Cowboy AU Government Mandated Marriage AU Soul Mates AU Modern AU Hallmark AU Mythical Creatures AU Vampire AU Coffee Shop AU A/B/O AU Monster AU (you can say what kind of monster you prefer) BDSM AU Host Club AU Grandline Metro AU (Quicksand, A Light Touch, Heart of Gold, Thrice Prophesized are set in this AU) Writer's Choice (spin that wheel!)

Pick 1 Prompt: Angst / Bad End Aphrodisiac - sex pollen, drugged food, struck by needle, devil fruit Bath/Shower/hotspring Body writing (icing, ink, blood, etc.) Caught in the Act Contractually Obligated Creature x Human Date / First date Dungeon Erotically charged fight Experienced w/virgin Forced Proximity - box, flight, cell, bondage, get-a-long shirt Friend’s hot older sibling Fuck or die Lazy morning sex Long-Term Established Relationship Only One Bed Outside Pliant When Horny Role-play Roughed Up Size Difference (I write this a lot, but I do love it.) Soft/Comfort Sugar daddy/mama The hat rule They were… coworkers/neighbors/etc. Trapped in a Room Trying Again (exes getting back together) Unresolved sexual tension Wounded Writer's Choice

***Requests will be accepted from 6/1 - 7/10 - and posted from 6/1 - 7/31***

Gifts are accepted from 6/1 until whenever \o/ Don't feel pressured to get them in by 7/20 🥰

#birthday request event 2024 #june-july event

[ladykailitha]

Permanent Tagging List Final Call

Hey, guys it's that lovely time again when I go through my permanent tag list and remove people that haven't interacted with my stories in awhile to clear the way for new people.

So here's the deal, you'll have 24 HOURS to respond to this post. I have posted this two other times, trying to get the word out. Once two weeks ago and again one week ago.

IF YOU DON'T RESPOND BY 12PM EST SUNDAY JUNE 2ND I WILL REMOVE YOU FROM ALL OF MY LISTS MASTER OR STORY.

NO JUDGMENT! I swear it. I just want to know if you're still interested so that if you're not, people who are can take your spot.

UNTIL THIS HAS COMPLETED ITS DURATION THERE WILL BE MORATORIUM ON ALL FUTURE REQUESTS TO BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT TAG LIST! THIS MEANS I AM NOT TAKING NEW REQUESTS TO BE ADDED TO THE LIST!!!

I love all the requests I'm getting to be added to it. But I am at 44 on my permanent list and if it hits 50 then there is no way to add people to a story's tag list. Something I really don't want to do.

You can tell me if you want to be:

Removed from my permanent tag and all my stories

Removed from my permanent tag list but keep you on all my stories

Removed from my permanent tag list but only some of the stories (let me know which ones)

Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from all my WIPs

Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from some of my WIPs (let me know which ones)

Stay on my permanent tag list and all my WIPs.

My current WIPs so that you know what I'm currently working on:

Well Met By Moonlight: Steve is a werewolf, Eddie is a vampire and there are strange and horrible things going on in Hawkins. No Upside Down supernatural creatures AU.

Never Hold Back Your Step...: Boy With a Bat book 2. Sequel to Can Anybody See Me? Season 2 Au where Eddie picks up Steve as one of his lost sheep and him and Steve get together. Set immediately after book one, Steve has to get through high school and his new summer job. Only this is Hawkins and danger is always lurking around the corner. Featuring season 3 AU.

Icarus: Eddie makes it big with Corroded Coffin as Steve and Robin seemingly struggle with menial jobs. Only there is more than meets the eye with the up and coming metal band The Fallen as Eddie learns that the lead singer and Steve is one and the same. Now they have to manage three private lives with super stardom. The path to love never was smooth.

Sweet Home Indiana: Sweet Home Alabama fusion. Eddie and Steve get married when the first state makes gay marriage legal. But soon a rift forms between them and Eddie leaves. Now almost a decade later, Eddie's back in Hawkins looking for a divorce so he can marry his fiancee, Chrissy. But when he arrives, Hawkins starts feeling like home in a way he thought he lost long ago. Now he has to chose between his new life in Seattle and his old life in Hawkins. But not everything is as it seems and that makes things harder. For everyone.

Paper Hearts: Post Season 2 Valentine's day AU. Hawkins is doing a fund raiser for senior ball, people can buy paper hearts to give to their friends and lovers. Pink for friends and red for lovers. Steve doesn't have a girlfriend this year so he decides to get twenty pink hearts to give to girls that wouldn't normally get any. Cue Eddie finding that adorable and to do the same for Steve so he doesn't feel so lonely on Valentine's. They fall in love.

So here is the list of people that haven't liked, commented, or reblogged my stuff in about two months.

@danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @genderless-spoon @emly03 @scheodingers-muppet @i-must-potato

Some additional info!

I remove people who haven't interacted with any of my posts in more than 60 days. This is anything I post: chaptered fics, one-shots, and rants, whether or not they've been tagged.

What does interact mean? Comment, like, OR reblog. It doesn't have to be all three. Hell it doesn't even have go beyond a like. Though, really reblogs are the best because it means more people beyond the tag list can see it.

If you've done any of those things in less than sixty days, or have said that you're going through a rough patch and interaction will be down for awhile, you are still on the list.

I put up the option to be removed from certain stories because @maya-custodios-dionach said that they didn't like a couple of the stories (omegaverse and metal band Steve) and I thought oh, why don't ask people what they want to be tagged IN?

And in the last couple of days I've had about half of my tag list chiming in and tell me what they want. It's fantastic! Open communication for the win!!! It makes me giggle that no one has asked be from Boy With a Bat book 2, though. Literally everything else has.

Most of my regular permanent listers have made themselves known on what they want to be tagged on, but if you just like the post without commenting, I will take that as option 6 and move on. These people don't HAVE to comment or like, you'll stay on the list regardless.

But if you have stories you would much rather not be tagged in, I'd like to know, you know. ;)

IF YOU ARE REMOVED AND YOU WANT TO BE ADDED BACK ON LET ME KNOW!!

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tag list #permanent taglist

[thelaundrybitch]

Chopsticks - Part 2

Part 1

TURTLEDOVES!!!

HERE IT IS!!!

Sorry, Blurple lovers... Leonardo weaseled his way back to being the one and only 💙

So, please enjoy some quality time with Leo 😘

TW: Sushi and a thirsty bitch. Proceed forward at your own risk.

And as always, my ninja turts are aged up to 30+ years. Don't be weird.

Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though🤩

18+ content - for mature audiences only

Chopsticks - Part 2

Thankfully, living in the lair wasn't terrible since it was like living in a 5-star hotel. You'd been there for a little over a year now since "The incident."

Things had been good between you and the turtles since all the drama had finally calmed down. Donnie still hadn't backed down from his sudden onset of flirting since the kitchen debacle, but it was more tolerable.

As always, Mike was full of fun-loving energy. Always finding ways to make you smile and laugh. Quick to share a video game with you, quicker to share a tasty snack. He was your friend. Your brother, even. 

Raph was Raph. Serious about his fitness regimen, while also entirely too busy playing Splinter's caretaker to even attempt to entertain any kind of drama or other BS… regarding anyone. Poor guy seriously needed a vacation. And a woman.

Leo was still Prince Charming. And honestly, you could never get a good read on him. Your heart had and always would belong to him, but you were sure he wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with you… especially after all the Donnie drama. 

But you kept hoping. Hoping that his casual flirting actually meant more than he let on. Or that, maybe, all those light touches and soft whispers might lead to more feelings on his end.

Because good God… He was killing you.

You were currently sitting at the table enjoying a cup of herbal tea Leo had made for you.

About 45 minutes ago. 

You were stalling. 

Secretly hoping he would come back in and join you, but that looked to be a bust. 

Sighing disappointedly as you got up to bring your cup to the sink, Leo walked in with a bag.

"Oh! There you are! I was looking for you!" He exclaimed, his whole face brightening with a smile, his eyes sparkling as the lighting hit them just right.

God, he was beautiful.

"Oh, sorry. I was just finishing my tea," you answered, smiling back at him and lifting the small cup, attempting to swallow the nervous energy that the swarm of butterflies in your stomach had managed to swirl up.

"Oh.” It was a concerned statement as that beautiful smile you loved so much disappeared from his face. “Was it alright? It took you a long time to finish it…" he inferred, brow ridge furrowed in dismay as he stepped toward you with his hand out like he was going to take the cup and test it for quality.

"It was delicious!" You responded quicker than intended, brows hitting the ceiling, one hand up placatingly while the other moved the cup from his reach. "I was just really enjoying it. It was almost meditative for me."

It wasn't a lie. You just happened to be "meditating" about him. But he didn't need to know that.

"Did you need me for something? You said you were looking for me?" You asked before he could inquire about the meditation comment.

"Yes!" He exclaimed excitedly. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch, actually!" He remarked, holding out the brown paper bag towards you. "You know, if you're hungry…"

"I'd love to! What did you get?" You inquired, walking to the sink to wash out your dirty cup, still looking at him as your smile threatened to split your face in two.

"It's a surprise," he told you with that cute boyish smile of his. "I'm gonna set it up in the Tatami room. Would you mind getting us some drinks?"

"Absolutely! Water with ice and some lemon?" You recalled, knowing his preferences well at this point.

He smiled at you kindly, "Yes, thank you. Oh, and do you mind waiting here for me until I come back to get you? Please?"

"Sure," you agreed, brows furrowed as you looked at him skeptically, pausing before you reached into the cabinet to grab two glasses.

With a curt nod, he hurried out of the kitchen and across the hall to the Tatami room, closing the doors behind him gently. And you couldn't help but wonder what he was up to, acting all nervous and un-Leo-like.

Just as you finished slicing the lemon and adding it to the edges of your water glasses, Leo stepped back into the kitchen.

"Ready?" He asked, clenching and unclenching his fisted hands repeatedly as he stepped back and forth nervously.

You smiled kindly and nodded, still pondering over his odd behavior while also trying to put him at ease.

Outstretching his arm in an invitation to go ahead of him, you stepped forward to take the lead. Before you passed by him, however, he took one of the glasses of water that you were carrying and followed closely behind. 

As you reached your destination, he hurriedly reached around you and opened the Tatami room door. Looking back at him, he smiled and signaled for you to enter the room.  

You stepped inside a dim, candlelit room, where a variety of sushi was spread out on the table. 

"It's beautiful, Leo," you whispered, looking up at him where he stood behind you, his plastron barely a breath from your body.

He looked down at you and chuckled, "Well, I was hoping it looked delicious, but I'll take beautiful," he teased you as his free hand made contact with your lower back.

Heat crept up your neck toward your face, and butterflies tickled your belly as his hand slid from your back to your hand so he could help you to the table to sit. You steadied your breathing the best you could, hoping he wouldn't notice the fast, trembling breaths.

Instead of sitting across from you as you had expected him to do, he sat down directly next to you. Surprised at how close he was, you couldn’t help but watch as he grabbed a plate and filled it up for himself.

Eyes locked on yours as he looked over at you, he asked, "May I?" As he picked up your plate.

Blinking a few times before what he had said actually registered, you nodded as your stomach did a half dozen somersaults, one right after the other, and you thought to yourself that this very much felt like a date—a romantic one.

Giving you a sexy smirk, he paused, making deliberate selections as he filled your plate before putting it in front of you with a set of chopsticks.

Oh, no.

He grabbed his own chopsticks and started eating, as you sat and looked at your set like they were laced with the plague.

After about four bites, he stopped and looked at you, brow ridge furrowed and head slightly cocked to one side. "Everything alright?" He asked, studying your features.

You let out a defeated sigh. "I don't know how to use those," you confessed, slightly embarrassed as you pointed to your foreign utensils.

"Here, like this," he instructed, showing you how to hold and use them, demonstrating with his own set in his hands.

After five minutes of hell and some stifled giggles from him, he suggested, "I have an idea."

Standing up from where he sat beside you, he walked out of your view. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, you felt him sit behind you, his thighs straddling your hips as he laid his long legs out straight beside yours under the table.

Eyes wide, your breath hitched as you felt his plastron touch your back. 

Please don't pass out.

You tried to steady your breathing as you felt his arms come around you on either side to pick up your chopsticks.

"Like this," he whispered, his warm breath caressing your ear as he fixed the sticks in your dominant hand.

You swallowed hard. "K." It was the only thing you could make out, and just as you feared, it came out in a trembling breath.

He kept his hand around yours as he brought the chopsticks to your plate to pick up a piece of sushi, then brought it to your mouth. You opened your mouth, and he placed the food inside gently.

"Good, right?" He breathed, voice low and smooth as his lips touched the outer edge of your ear.

"Mmm," you hummed quietly, barely tasting the food as he picked up another piece.

Your gaze followed his motions as you watched him use your hand, still encased by his, slowly bringing the chopsticks to his mouth and feeding himself.

When your innocent observing turned into full-on gawking as you looked up at him, a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You gonna finish that?" He teased with raised eyebrow ridges as he nodded his head at you and looked at your mouth, licking his lips.

You cleared your throat and continued to chew, your face growing as hot as the summer sun.

He chuckled, and you felt his lips on your ear again, "Did you know that sushi is considered an aphrodisiac?"

You shook your head in response as you attempted to swallow your mouthful of food.

Spinning the chopsticks so they were being held by the grace of only one of his fingers, he leaned forward to grab your glass, handing it to you as he saw your struggle to swallow, "Relax," he said softly, his other hand resting on your bicep, giving it a small squeeze.

You chugged a couple of mouthfuls of water, forcing the lump of food down your esophagus to hopefully squash the butterflies that had seemingly multiplied. Tenfold.

However, the moment you set the glass back down on the table, Leo took the opportunity, deciding to continue in his onslaught of lusty torture.

As you placed your water glass back down, you felt his hand move to your hip. The intimacy of the action caused you to sit up straight.

"Easy," he whispered. "I'm not gonna bite you," he practically purred, lightly trailing his snout down the side of your neck, then back up to your ear. "Do you want more?"

Holy shit, yes.

You nodded, letting out a hard breath of air.

"What would you like more of, love?" his voice husky, his lips ghosting over your pulse in a restrained kiss.  

Unable to breathe, nevermind speak, you pushed your hips back between the apex of his thighs, where the unmistakable outline of his growing erection against your backside ignited the fire between your own.

You hoped the action was enough of an explanation because you were positive that you wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence at this point.

He dropped the chopsticks and used both hands to pull your hips flush to his so your back was now completely flat against his plastron. His hand found its way under the front of your shirt and made its way quickly to a hardened nipple. 

A small gasp left your lips as he trailed kisses down your neck. "I lied," he breathed out. "I need to taste you," he growled, his tongue making contact with your collarbone and his lips closing on the skin as he sucked.

Hard.

"Lied?" Your question came out as a moan, pulling a guttural groan from him.

"Yes, I am going to bite you,” He growled in your ear, both hands now tight on your hips. “But only if you want me to, love," he added, a bit of uncertainty laced in his voice as his grip loosened to give you an out if you wished.

Without a thought, you nodded frantically, a trembling “Yes” being whispered to the empty portion of the room. One of his arms moved around your middle while one of his legs pushed the pair of you away from the table.

Big hands moving over your body, he spun you around, manhandling you until he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Straddling him.

Placing your hands on his chest in feverish shock, you felt his heart hammering under his plastron. And the intimate position allowed you to get a good look at him in the low lighting. His eyes were completely blown black, his lips slightly swollen from loving you.

His hands came up, pulling your face to his. One of his thumbs moved to your chin, pulling your mouth open just as his tongue found its way through your lips. Devouring kisses, as if it were you he had planned on having for lunch instead, his tongue exploring every inch. With a bit of suction, he pulled away, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. 

You were unable to silence the whimper his sensuous affection had drawn out, and honestly, you couldn't care less. Your need for him had you grinding your hips down against his rock-hard member reflexively, a lascivious groan ripping from his throat in response.

"Jebus, what did they put in that sushi, and where can I get some?" Exclaimed Mike right before slamming the tatami room door, cackling loudly as he took off before his eldest brother could maim him.

Enjoying my work? Find my Master list HERE

*If you aren’t on this list, please let me know if you want me to tag you in my other work or if you prefer me to not tag you 😘

~Tags~

@leosgirl82 @leoandraphssoulmate @scholastic-dragon @trufflemacandcheese @eveandtheturtles @raphsmuneca @meowph-132 @wynndigogh @symmetricalkazekage @miss-andromeda @drowninghell @xanadu-702 @iheartchv @yorshie @justalotoffanfiction @zombiesnips-blog @fyreball66 @luckycharms1701 @fluffytriceratops @pheradream-15 @happymoonangel @8pmblackcoffee @jurikyu-blog @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @soryuwifeyxx @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @tmnt-tychou @ninnosaurus @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @limitedsympathy

#thelaundrybitch #tmnt aged up #tmnt adults #tmnt oneshot #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #bayverse tmnt #bayverse tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse leonardo #bayverse leo

[kikitakite]

@fantasyfictionfables

I was going to reblog some of your posts because I wanted to discuss your takes on Mystra, but then I found out you're a Christian conservative who hates gay people.

No gay person thinks their sexual orientation is their identity, but it's absolutely PART of their identity, just as being straight is part of yours. You can claim otherwise, but it determines who you might love and marry and that person will one day become a part of you and your identity. It's inevitable. As a wife and mother of three, you should know that better than anyone.

But people from groups like yours shame gay people for exploring that part of themselves and that's why Pride Month exists. Pride isn't "propaganda". It's about marginalized people showing the world they exist and they're not ashamed of it. Parades are also a great way for gay people to meet each other. My bestie met her wife at a march 15 years ago and they've been together ever since. It's beautiful. They have two happy, gorgeous children who wouldn't exist without Pride, because their moms never would've met.

Pride also raises money to help gay teens who've been cast out of their homes and gay refugees who've had to flee their country because being gay is illegal there. It also provides support for gay people who need medical help, therapy for abuse, suicide prevention and more. It's a safe space for people who are often discriminated against and even KILLED just for being who they are. So sorry that seems to bother you.

Your take isn't brave, it's just ignorant and hateful. You didn't have to write that post. Nothing provoked it. You just WANTED to to air your allegiances. And then you turned off comments and reblogs lmfao. For the majority of the year, gay people survive just like us straights. They go about their day and don't even mention being gay. You picked the one month in the entire year that's dedicated to them to complain about their existence and call them "deranged". And then you have the audacity to say you "bear no ill will" towards them? Bullshit.

I can only assume the word "pride" scares you because you're a Christian and it's a sin, am I right? Well here's something ironic: lust is also a sin, yet your entire blog not only consists of Gale thirst posts, but you're also stealing Tim Downie's voice to make audio clips using AI. Hmmm, I wonder if God would approve of a married woman posting NSFW content and using a man's voice for her hedonistic writings without his consent. 🤔

And by the way, as a veteran DnD player I can tell you right now that Mystra has done some absolutely VILE shit to her followers. She's not perfect. None of the gods in DnD are. They're flawed and often cruel. I've seen you compare Mystra and Gale to stories in the Bible, but that almost feels blasphemous. Mystra has a history of evil deeds. She orchestrated Elminster's rape, made sure he had kids and never told him about them. She turned Volo into an anchor without his knowledge. She tortured a peasant because he refused to sleep with her, then killed his wife and punished him for crying about it. And don't even get me started on the "daughters" she created. The third Mystra (who has Mystra and Mystryl's memories) is cruel to Gale as well and the game gives so much context for that. Plus ALL the companions agree she's unreasonable and tell Gale to reject her, and if he does it leads to one of his most satisfying endings. He's happy, he's a teacher, he marries tav and everyone approves. Your way of playing isn't the only right way and people aren't wrong for criticizing Mystra. There's plenty about her that deserves to be criticized, as is the case with every god in the pantheon.

Speaking of, I have nothing against Christians, but I do when they use their faith to shame people and act like total hypocrites.

#pride month #happy pride 🌈 #homophobia #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #mystra #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #call out post #tw r4p3

[subtlelovers]

How jjk people would cuddle!

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toge Inumaki, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ino Tamuka, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Yuta Okkotsu, Ryomen Sukuna, Kokichi Muta (Meckamaru), Jogo.

Creator: This is all my opinion! If you have other ideas don't hesitate to let me know! And tell me if I should make more, maybe a girls version? All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! (More to my reflection series is coming soon for those who are waiting for that)

Satoru Gojo

Would totally wanna surround you with his whole body, he would whine if you moved away or complained about it being too hot.

Totally plays with your hair while cuddling.

Suguru Geto

Bros the type of guy who would want your head to be BURIED in his chest, you can feel his heartbeat against your face and it's super comforting.

He would rub your back and squeeze you in his sleep, sometimes you woke up from it and would get angry at him for waking you. Though in all reality you didn't really mind it too much.

Toge Inumaki

If he could, he would definetely live with his face buried in your chest.

He loves head scratches or when you just play with his hair in general.

Loves your scent, +++If you wear perfume he notices and literally sniffs you.

Yuji Itadori

Bro is so touch deprived.

He would need to hold you, he loves it if you massage his shoulders like this.

Holding you in his arms is like a drug to him, his pproblems instantly vanish like that.

Megumi Fushiguro

I know he is emo, but he is OUR EMO

Kind of the same thing as with Suguru, he loves having you nuzzled against his chest.

He is definetely a side sleeper, he loves the smell of your hair so it gives him a perfect advantage.

Choso Kamo

Can't lie, he is definetely into the thighs. It's a free natural pillow, who wouldn't wanna rest their head there?

He would go crazy whenever you leaned down to kiss him, even a forehead kiss was enough to make him warm and fuzzy.

Ino Tamuka

Would always want you to feel protected by him 24/7, of course implying he would surround you like this.

You two would totally watch a movie together on his phone or something like this.

If you tried getting up he would either whine and complain about it or just pull you back to him.

Kento Nanami

He would come home from work, tired and ready for sleep. You would throw yourself around him.

He watches his phone or reads a book while playing with your hair, sometimes he will read out loud for you too.

Toji Fushiguro

He is very possesive, needs to hold you at all times whenever you're together.

It's that sense of protectiveness and dominance he constantly wants to give off.

Yuta Okkotsu

He would be a bit shy at first, not really know what to do with his hands, etc.

Eventually he would warm up and hold you close while saying sweet words to you.

Would pretend like nothing even though his arm feels like it's supposed to fall off.

Ryomen Sukuna

Don't get me wrong, he would totally be a cuddler. And a big spoon, though when he is going to sleep he prefers to be left untouched, leaving you to take the initiative if you wanted it so bad.

Would complain about being warm, and depending on how tired he is he would either leave it or push you off him while laughing at you for being small and weak (In a loving way)

Kokichi Muta (Meckamaru)

He would definetely have you in his lap, bombarding you with thousands of kisses despite you trying to get away

Definetely the type of guy to tickle you.

Would rub your back and whisper sweet words inn your ears.

Fuck Jogo...

If you miss anyone lmk that too^

#gojo satoru #geto suguru #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #ino takuma #mechamaru #kokichi muta #sukuna ryomen #jogo jjk #jjk #choso kamo #yuta okkotsu #toge inumaki #fluff

[fourstarsandahamster]

so it looks like i'm going to be able to go to Rik's bench on 9th June, and i've been thinking for a while about getting something to put there, since of course it'll be the 10 year anniversary of him passing away. i don't know if anyone has any ideas? i've been playing with the idea of maybe getting a card or something and writing the names/usernames of anyone here who'd like to be included (i'd probably open a google form for it)

basically, hit me with any ideas at all! one idea is make a collage/booklet and fill it with fanart (obviously only at the artist's request) and messages.

additionally, if anyone has any art or anything they'd like printed individually and left at the bench, i'd be happy to do so if you're willing to cover the cost of printing etc!

-jen (inthegrass11)

CHECK REBLOGS!!

#britcom #the young ones #80s comedy #rik mayall #bbc bottom #filthy rich & catflap #the comic strip presents

[ms-gallows]

"The Kansas Supreme Court's MAJORITY has held that there is no state constitutional right to vote in the state."

If they are even bothering to dig into the state's constitution for the right to vote (something that should go without being written or said), you know they will try to REMOVE the right to vote in the future. FOR THE LOVE OF DEMOCRACY, REBLOG. LIKES DON'T DO JACK SHIT. REBLOGGING SENDS IT AROUND. If you're too afraid to reblog, then send it to someone who will. DEFEAT PROJECT 2025

#vote 2024 #vote blue #defeat project 2025 #project 2025 #fuck trump #vote biden #womens rights #abortion #voting rights #social justice #republicans are domestic terrorists