#⯌ █ journal entries (drabble).

[ljubimaya]

I've been thinking of posting my longer fics exclusively on ao3 since I've been seeing that my werewolf baji series is flopping hard here on Tumblr

[owlstronomer]

Time passes, moving in a continuous loop that feels impossible to navigate. Though Stolas still regularly follows Blitz's calendars for the dates, most days seem to blur and and bleed together. He leans against the balcony railing. In one hand he holds a thin cigarette in one hand, his other bracing an open journal, keeping it aloft and safe from falling.

The latest entries within its lined pages are filled with scrawling letters filled with rambling thoughts, frustrations, confessions, fears, and heartfelt spillage. Tonight's was no different. Only, it was long. Longer than most of his writings. Stolas found himself either furiously scribbling words or whole lines out, tearing pages from the journal and crumpling them with furious clicking of beak, or crying into the pages until the ink ran. Some survived untouched, haunting the lines like ghostly conversations, but most met one of the chosen destructive fates.

He blows smoke and watches it curl and twist away. He wishes desperately that it could be him, slipping into the air, winding between buildings, dodging anything that might come his way. Or perhaps it was the act of disappearing so entirely that enticed him. Snubbing the cigarette out, he leaves it in a plastic tray left outside. It was the last one in his pack, and Stolas had made it last. He made a silent promise to himself not to continue the habit, or to at least make an effort to let it go for several weeks. It was costly, after all, and he wanted to try finding other methods to relieve the negative energy in his body and mind without the use of some form of substance. Before it was alcohol and he'd be willing to even say sex. Now it was cigarettes and the occasional, almost regular self-destructive habits he'd fallen back on.

With Loona and Blitz both presently away from the apartment, Stolas took the opportunity to continue filling its pages with his grief. After all, he didn't feel much like singing, and there was no elaborate or lush garden to hide in to theatrically convey his woes. He lowers himself onto the balcony floor, stretching long legs and talons. With a heavy sight, the pen meets paper once more.

𝒯𝑜 𝒲𝒽𝑜𝓂 𝐼𝓉 𝑀𝒶𝓎 ��𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓃, 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝑀𝒶𝓎 𝒜𝓈 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝐵𝑒 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻,

I have given it some thought. Rather, I have given it a great deal of thought. Every day, every evening, every waking moment in which my accursed heart beats within this frail feathered chest.

Nothing new has been confirmed, only more thoroughly understood. The conclusion I have come to is not surprising, but it brings me pain. It riddles me with fear once again, and I feel myself at the precipice of disaster. A disaster of my own making, that is. We you and I shall be partners in crime; you are my most trusted confidant. This secret you shall keep for me, at least for now.

I love him. I love Blitz.

I knew this already, but I failed to understand the weight, the truth, the power behind it. Not only that, but I refused to think it truly possible, especially after. . . .

The problem, my silent friend, is that I do not find myself worthy of his love should it be returned. I am also, perhaps, afraid of both possibilities: rejection and mutual acceptance. Because though I know Blitz cares about me, he must for I am here, living with him and his daughter, being tended to and cared for, and offered a position in his esteemed company. . . . I do not know if he loves me. And even if he did, I do not know that I could accept it. Not right now. Now when he provides me with so, so much. Not when I have so little to offer. Not when I haven't had the opportunity to apologize. No. . . . the opportunity is always there. But I haven't the correct words, the time, yet, to make it worthwhile.

I am afraid that he will loathe me for loving him after everything that has transpired. And in equal measure, I fear that he will love me too.

You see, I am not an easy person to love. I still have so much to learn, to overcome, to reset. And I am in no position to make demands, to propose partnership, or spill such confessions. He deserves to be free of me. I cannot tell him that I love him when he is stuck with me under the same roof. It feels too much like a horrible and deadly trap. An inconvenience. I do not want him to resent me so soon. He needs the opportunity to. . . . to not have to worry or fuss over me.

I had him on the Full Moons, and when I called for him. He always answered. It would be a disservice to him, to spill my heart before him and lay it at his feet, asking if he felt the same. I would surely be a monster then; a deplorable and wretched thing. And I do not know how I would fare without both Octavia and Blitz. . . . It is selfish, perhaps, to keep these feelings locked away, written only for my eyes. Our dirty little secret, you and I, Journal. But I am a broken man with nothing to give but the shattered pieces of myself that I am slowly, terribly putting back together. And I have taken enough from him already.

So for now. . . . love will have to wait. I must traverse these fond feelings and aching desires on my own. I shall turn them into something useful, perhaps, hopefully. And one day, Blitz will be free of me and my shadow. Whether or not he will ever know the depth of my love for him is to remain a mystery. But I shall ensure he knows how grateful I am, how appreciative, and just how much I cherish our friendship, if he still considers me as such.

It grows late, and I think I hear their footfalls.

Farewell until next time. 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓈

He closes the journal with trembling hands and clutches it close. With a shuddering breath, Stolas retreats back into the apartment and tucks it under one of the couch cushions, into a hole worn into the material where it can remain hidden.

[chrrykate]

A couple weeks ago, as I sat in my car and avoided my entire life, I thought about the west coast. I could take my cash and drive all the way over there in a day or two. Do it without telling anyone — just disappearing. It was a weird feeling.

I’ve always had an obsession with the west coast. With the pacific north. With the southern beaches of California. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because that’s where my biological father is from. Where my mother met him and had me. I was separated from the sea at birth like a long lost twin.

I put Seattle, Washington in my gps as I drove home that night. I ignored the voice repeatedly telling me to turn left. But still, It seemed so easy, and so real. Everything seemed terribly real that night.

[springtrapsspringlockedbussy]

i would love to give nolan a pocket journal for his personal use but im frankly concerned about his mental state.

gimmicks like the twitter account were moreso me trying to give nolan generalized thought about the world, i.e what if mario was real and could vote

but a private journal in the fanfiction series that only HE can read. it'd probably be very upsetting and gruesome to read

so id just have to say it'd never happen. id love to do it, but i think it'd be too much to take in all at once

[haresvoid]

An excerpt from a currently unnamed, incomplete work by Omeluum;

It is a general belief that illithids are incapable of positive emotions that most other mortal races share. The closest that can be experienced is the euphoria after the consumption of a brain, or sadistic satisfaction after successful control upon another. Love and friendship are considered concepts incapable for an illithid to feel, and unnecessary towards a final goal of 'perfect order'; or the Grand Design.

However, if that were so then objects such as a resonance stone would not be necessary. A device we are instructed to give all emotions of companionship and desire to, to satiate emotional needs. We may not develop relationships or friendships with our kin, but it is not of the lack of ability. I believe that such things are seen as useless to keep a colony productive and the goals of the illithid empire when dissatisfaction and discontentment intentionally fostered from "unachieved goals" is more efficient and simpler.

Neither are we solitary creatures; beyond the hive minds and the colonies exists some vague experience of individuality, although different than the true thing. While some competitiveness can be seen between those of my kin, there has also been discovered those that feel incomplete without controlling another. This can be displayed as the belief that domination is our birthright, but from this it has been found there are those that display some sense of loneliness if they are without a thrall. Perhaps it is rather a subconscious need for company, twisted into the belief system that has been taught? I can only make assumption off of study and personal experience.

There are emotions I do find myself struggling to understand in a way I see others do with ease. One that comes to mind is love- however, from what I can understand it is but a heightened form of companionship. A desire not to be close to one with control or manipulation, but to stand beside as an equal. To share experiences, and minds. I cannot say for certain that my explanation on this matter is perfect, but should it be then I am of the belief it is another emotion we are capable of feeling as well- but alas, I can only speak from personal experience.

[acr3ss-the-cosmos]

June 11th

Lieutenant Yanqing came by the Artisanship Commission today looking to buy a new sword for his collection, a fairly common sight for me and my coworkers. This time he had asked us if we had a sword capable of emitting lightning, much like how his own sword can emit ice crystals to freeze enemies.

As it happened, we're in the middle of developing such a sword, but it's still very much in the early testing phases, so I told him that we'd let him know as soon as the final version of the blade was finished so he could purchase it, and he became very excited at the prospect, thanking us happily. He's actually very sweet, that boy, always respectful towards us even with his seemingly boundless enthusiasm for the sword. I wouldn't be surprised if he's paying for half my salary with all the weapons he buys from us.

Chenhua smiled to herself as she wrote on.

I can see that he has a very bright future ahead, especially with General Jing Yuan guiding him. I can only imagine how proud he must be of his pupil.

[jofayewrites]

Finding 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔢 ℭ𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔠𝔥

Writing, like most forms of art, is an act of self-exploration. Maybe the whole thing is a little chicken and egg (does the writer create the idea?? does the idea create the writer??? who cares, write the damn thing???) but I think the fact of the matter is at the core of every story is a nugget of truth.

So, grab your flashlight, some parchment for a map, and your compass. We're entering the catacombs of New Orleans to find...

The Bone Church!

Before I get into the nitty-gritty of what this book means to me and drawl on and on about the last eight years of my life spent in the dark underground of New Orleans warlock society, let me give you the synopsis.

So maybe I've never been a warlock, or a rare creature of magic on the run from high society, trying to break a curse while being tempted by the darkness. Maybe I've never fallen in love with a man I met in my dreams or saved the world. The purpose of fantasy — YA fantasy, to be more precise — is to capture the plights and triumphs of young people allegorically, and have a lot of fun in the process.

No, The Bone Church (which has been known by several different names now) comes from somewhere far, far more personal.

Trigger warning here for non-graphic suicide attempts, past self-harm, sensitive mental health conversations.

Let's go back to the beginning. It's July of 2017, and after a suicide attempt, a hospitalization, and an uncomfortable series of therapy appointments and psychiatrist visits, I am a fifteen year old with a life sentence: Type 1 Bipolar Disorder. I haven't written any stories in months. My head is a jungle I can hardly make sense of, and my new medications make me feel... different. Incomplete.

Am I still me? Can I still write?

The Bone Church, originally titled The Girls of New Orleans, and then The Nymphs of New Orleans, came from a place of desperate survival. I crawled out of the deepest pit in the chasm of the earth, ripped apart at my seams, and I began to type. I was fascinated by my own near-death experience and the new way I was forced to see the world. All the things I couldn't unknow or unsee.

TBC opens with Aubrey Morganson being struck and killed in a hit and run accident. After she dies, she resurrects unscathed in the morgue, having touched an unfathomable magic that runs through the core of the city she calls home. This is (of course!!) traumatic, and leaves her permanently changed. She's confronted with a new set of abilities and powers she's always had, but never known. Everything has changed.

So sure, she did die, and I didn't. We were both reconciling who we were destined to be with who we are. And can we become other than what we are — as Marquis De Sade begs of us — should we try?

Similarly, TBC's other protagonist, Miles, has always known magic. But when he has a vision of Aubrey's death and resurrection, the fabric of his society unravels, and everything he thinks he knows is called into question. Familiar, isn't it?

I write a draft in 2017, then again in 2018. Then I forget it. When 2020 rolls around and the world goes into lockdown, I come back to New Orleans to make sense of adulthood, confronting my bipolar disorder like it's an old, dangerous magic. Another hospitalization comes and goes, and TBC saves my life again. I write, write some more, and then edit over the next three years before entering the query trenches.

And then my book flops. It's a sucky hand.

For context, I sent a hundred queries and got some light interest. In then end, I finished with five(?) requests to read the full manuscript, but no offers of representation despite "close calls". A devastating blow for a new college grad with a retail job and no idea what to do next.

But what I gained from shelving TBC is even more valuable than signing with a fledgling manuscript. I learned exactly what plot points I needed to tease out, what voice I wanted to write in, and how to let go of the imaginary agent and audience I'd let stifle my creativity. I began writing for me again. Now, I'm excavating the catacombs toward the Bone Church, and what I have is a damn good book that knows exactly what it is and what it wants to say.

Seven or eight years in the making. And then some.

By the time I sign with an agent and sell the book and it hits the shelves, it'll probably have been a full ten years since I wrote the words 'the first time Aubrey Morganson died, she was only seventeen. It would not be the last.'

For posterity's sake, I'm writing this because one day, a reader battling their mental health might wonder where their favorite book came from. And I want this to be their answer. I am transparently me. Here and queer and a teensy bit full of fear. Baring your soul is scary, after all.

My name is Josephine Faye. I have Type 1 bipolar disorder. It's my superpower and my magic. I feel everything all at once, and when I write, I put every ounce of me into my words. I have danced on the edge of death twice and survived it, and this is why. I've got stories to tell.

Like Hemingway said, time to open the vein and bleed.

So if you read this far, thank you. Stay a while.

Signing off,

Jo ♡

[tohruies]

a realisation that home was here. home was now. and it had been all along … 🥺💘

— ☆ 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

alhaitham x ryu. this is obviously a selfship piece for ryuhaitham and it’s in first person. canon au. comfort. fluff. read here if you want more context on us. 0.7k wc

I sat curled on the couch with a blanket drawn tightly around me, staring at the modest decorations I’d strung up days ago when Alhaitham first left for Akademiya business. The lights, the strings of ribbon—they felt out of place here, like foreign embellishments in a world that had no meaning for them.

Christmas. Once upon a time, it had been everywhere—woven into every light, every note of music, every breath of winter air. It wasn’t as though I’d celebrated Christmas extravagantly but the absence of it here made the ache of displacement settle heavy in my chest. Even if I’d only half-participated in the holiday back then, its laughter and warmth had always been a comforting constant.

Teyvat moved without pause. The winds of Mondstadt whipped across snow-buried plains, Sumeru’s ever-shifting leaves played on the breeze and Liyue’s lanterns flickered against a fading sky. It was timeless and unchanging, as if the universe was indifferent to the celebration I longed for. But like the decorations I’d strung up, Christmas had no place here. And in that knowledge, my homesickness deepened, the distance between my old world and this one stretching farther.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and I startled, my gaze snapped to the figure entering. Alhaitham’s silhouette was outlined against the dim light of Teyvat’s evening and in his hand was a small neatly wrapped package, the paper a rich shade of crimson, tied with thin, silver silk that shimmered softly in the light.

“You’re back,” I mustered, rising slightly from my seat.

“I am,” His gaze swept over me, and a crease formed between his brows. “You look troubled.”

I offered a fragile smile, “Just thinking about… you know.” I trailed off, eyes drifting to the window where whimsy unbeknownst to me twinkled in the inky expanse above.

Without preamble, he extended the gift toward me. “Here.”

I blinked in surprise, looking from his hand to his face. “What’s this for?”

“Isn’t it customary to exchange gifts for… Christmas?”

The word fell from his lips tentatively, as though testing its weight. His eyes searched mine for any sign that he had mispronounced it. Then, a bittersweet ache unfurled in my chest.

“You… remembered?”

He remembered. Even in passing, even if I hadn’t explained it in detail, he had remembered. And more than that, he had acted on it.

“You mentioned it once,” he replied, the faintest hint of awkwardness colouring his tone. “I don’t fully understand the tradition, but it seemed important to you.” He paused, then added softly, “I thought it might remind you of home.”

My fingers brushed the wrapping paper, tracing its edges as a quiet laugh escaped me. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It matters to you. If it makes this place feel less foreign, then it’s no trouble at all.” He spoke as though his sentiment was the simplest truth in the world.

I bit my lip, his words filling the emptiness in my heart like the flickering flame of a candle in the dark. Slowly, I unwrapped the gift, the paper falling away to reveal a delicate glass ornament, its shape a perfect, crystalline star. It caught the lamplight, scattering prisms across the room like a reflection of something celestial—like fragments of a distant sky.

“It’s not much,” he almost sounded apologetic, “but stars seem to hold significance in your world’s imagery for this holiday.”

I stared down at the gift, my vision blurring as the sting of tears welled unexpectedly. The ornament trembled in my grasp, held close to my chest as the first drops slipped free, unstoppable. “Thank you,” I whispered, so softly it felt like the words might dissolve and me with it.

Watching me closely, a shadow of concern crossed his face, as though uncertain whether he had made me uncomfortable. “You’re crying…” His voice wavered, caught somewhere between a statement and a question.

I wiped at my tears, smiling through them. “They’re happy tears,” I told him. “I really needed this.”

Alhaitham sat beside me with the same calmness that defined his every action. The silence now brimmed with a bubbling warmth, deeply felt like a steadfast anchor.

“If you’d like,” he started, “then we’ll celebrate it. Here, every year. However you wish.”

His offer settled gently. “I would like that,” I said, already untethered.

Alhaitham nodded, brushing his hands against mine, the touch so tender it seemed to carry a promise with a three word phrase hanging in the air. As the glass star shimmered between us, the ache of homesickness began to ebb. In its place bloomed a sense of belonging.

A realisation that home was here. Home was now. And it had been all along.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

divider: @/adornedwithlight

[ljubimaya]

I have acquired the hibiscus tea. I can read some fics today :3

[owlstronomer]

A quiet evening and a head heavy with too many thoughts calls for journaling. Stolas tucks himself into a quiet corner of the apartment balcony, just out of view of the glass doors and takes a moment to rest his head against the journal's surface. In that moment, the gesture felt as intimate as a lover's. After all, the pages within were filling with his secrets. Every emotional tide, surges and recessions were scrawled between printed lines. "Time to chat once more, dear friend. . . " He smiles solemnly, fingers tracing over the image on its cover. With a sigh, Stolas opens it and turns to a new page. It doesn't take long for the words to spill forth.

𝒯𝑜 𝒲𝒽𝑜𝓂 𝐼𝓉 𝑀𝒶𝓎 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓃, 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝑀𝒶𝓎 𝒜𝓈 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝐵𝑒 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻,

I have regrets.

I have so many regrets, I think my life might be defined by only the mistakes and wrongdoings I have committed. Perhaps my very outline is one terribly misshapen discovery. I still do not know what any of this means, and it does not change much, but it is killing me to love you (myself, that is).

Is there an end in sight? Will it take 100 years for me to process and come to terms with everything I have done, everything I should have done better, could have done better? I know it does not do well to dwell on the past, but the past is all I have, and my future is uncertain. I am. . . . I am uncertain. Nothing is promised, not even tomorrow.

I never should have roped Blitz into that arrangement. At the very least, I should have ended it sooner. What I did, what I wanted from him was selfish and inconsiderate. After everything, I cannot bear the warmth of his smile, or the kindness in his eyes. These thoughts remain my own, of course. But everything I have ever done or said and his words from our last Full Moon, haunt me. At some point I would like to apologize to him, but I do not want it to feel. . . . staged, or bland. It cannot feel simple. Absolutely no part of our arrangement was simple, and he deserves something more. An apology will not fix anything, it may not even mean anything to him now, but it is still necessary. Something I need to give him.

I do not regret saving his life, or choosing him. No. . .

I regret choosing myself. Instead of taking a step back and reflecting, instead of mending the fraying bond between my daughter and myself, I was selfish. I chased after the desires of my heart and the carnal passions I craved.

It was unfair of me to put both Octavia and Blitz in such a position. They deserved better. They still do.

Perhaps this is my chance. . . to become better. To do and be better. With time, I can ease back into the friendship Blitz and I once had; the warmth he shows me still feels friendly and inviting, so not all is lost there. I will. . . . I will tread carefully, for both our sakes, and not toe the line of romance. Not yet, if ever again. I already kissed him. I am so stupid, so foolish. That moment made my heart flutter and fill with hope. I won't slip up again. He has to know that I respect him, acknowledge his boundaries, that I care.

And Octavia. . . . If she accepts me after my exile. . . .

Where to begin?

— Stolas pauses, tears stinging the back of his throat and slipping down his face. They fall upon the pages and cause a few words to bleed and smear. How fitting, he thinks. It's still legible, but it looks exactly how he feels; unstable, ephemeral, easily undone. Weak. He returns the pen to paper.

If she will have me once more, I would like to get to know her again. I hope to regain her trust and her love. Perhaps, with time, I can be more than just a stranger to her. I might reclaim my place as her father, and hear her laughter once more. It would be a privilege and an honor to hear her beautiful voice. I want to listen to her favorite music with her, watch the stars with her, navigate concert crowds, share family dinners, and wrap my arms around her while whispering that everything will be alright.

I do not expect forgiveness. Not from either of them. But I hope for something. Anything. I fear I might be writing in circles now, or soon. And I cannot stop the ache in my chest, or the tears that blur my vision. This is as good a point to stop as any other, I suppose.

Until next time, 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓈

His head tips back against the side of the apartment. Stolas lets his eyes drift closed and the silent sobs wrack his body. Fingers clutch the journal in his hands like a lifeline, legs drawing close in an effort to make himself smaller. Everything in him felt wrong, wrong, wrong. How could he have been so foolish, so selfish, so greedy? He hurt the people he loved most, and now there was nothing left. The weight was suffocating, but he would bear it. He might fold and buckle beneath it at times. . . . but as long as he stood back up, as long as he pushed on. . . . well, that was just fine.

[pennedbylisse]

I just want it to feel right, for it all to click, for life to make sense. But there's no single, all-encompassing answer to life, no apparent rhyme or reason. I'm just tired of it all feeling as though I'm on the margins, behind glass, looking in. As though I'm observing my existence, rather than experiencing it. I don't really know what I want from my life. I think I assimilate the common wants and desires of others; travel, luxuries, relationships, success because it seems like the common thing to want. If everyone wants it, it must be worth it, right? Perhaps I've convinced myself that if I were to obtain power and wealth, I'd grow desirable in such a way that I would not have to fake my identity or personality to get people to stay. Their want for my assets would keep them interested, whereas when it's just me, bared and stripped, it's so hard to predict the fickle interest of others. People use you and dispose of you if you're insignificant, invaluable.

I wonder what it's like to feel powerful; to be desired; to be wealthy beyond your years. Does it offer you freedom from trivial worries?

-penned by j. m. medna

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Artist! Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 035 ✦ ┆・

[ Self-Deprecation, Cheesy Hs Love, mentions of bullying, Kyunnie making a fic for herself, Fluff Ending ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Admiration ] ¡! ❞

After the past years of schoolyears, you swore to never again make friends or even try anything to get attention on yourself. The plan for the remaining years is to just disappear like a ghost.

Not again, you wont open your heart, you will never let anyone in.

You wont go through another betrayal, you wont get picked on again, you wont ever let anyone hurt your heart anymore.

But ah, the way your heart stopped when you saw a tall guy with dashing ebony locks, his lazy grey eyes, a sharp angled jawline as if carved out by god's hands and a physique so perfect he might as well drop off of highschool and become an idol.

He felt your gaze from the other side of the classroom and his grey eyes would sweep towards yours— Instinctively making you avert your gaze from him.

Your heart is racing, it's suffocating, it doesn't feel pleasant.

It doesn't feel pleasant.

It does not.

So like a little a coward, you purposely started avoiding Jinwoo. You never try to meet his gaze, nor have you ever tried to be next to you.

The feeling in your heart is just so unpleasant. You don't know why, but Jinwoo's presence is making your heart race.

You thought it was just anxiety really, but secretly you studied Jinwoo's face when he wasn't looking.

Look down on the paper on your desk,

And start sketching.

You really don't know why you're doing this, perhaps it is to figure out just why he makes your heart race so much, to figure out why he just seems so... Different in a way.

Is it the way he talks? The way he carries himself? The way he seems just so... Unique?

What is it really? What makes him so different?

How can he make your heart squeeze itself like it felt like you're dying? How can he make you so fidgety even just bypassing by him?

You memorized the way his hair behaves, the way his clothes move along with him, the way his alluring grey eyes seemed to have a language of their own.

A language that makes you feel so lightheaded.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo had always known your little gaze on him, and he grew curious about it. You're always hovering somewhere near him, but not too near. When he comes close even by just 20 steps— You scramble and run away like a kitten.

Cute.

Just like he was in your eyes, you were in his.

Not romantically, at least, not yet.

He heard small rumours about you here and there, how you were bullied in the previous years. Jinwoo couldn't get the details, and though he can in a heartbeat— He chose not to pry into your private life.

You weren't attempting to stalk him on that level, so he wont neither.

He'll let you hang around him, you're a harmless little kitten who doesn't meow after all.

It's no big deal.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"You ready, hyung?" His teammate says as they all prepare on the trakcs for their daily training.

"Of course" Jinwoo hums.

Truthfully, he's bored, deathly bored.

When everyone thinks he is running like a damn road runner; he feels as if he is going on a walk.

Not even a jog.

A damn walk.

But he has to.

He passes by you and like a cliche, romance novel— The wind blows towards your hair and your strands toussle while your eyes are just focused on the journal in front of you.

Charming.

It was absolutely charming, you looked like you didn't belong here.

Jinwoo though in that split second that you should be in front of a canvas instead, inside of an atelier wearing an apron with a palette on your hand.

He momentarily looses his focus before hearing his teammates running behind him and he snaps back to it.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Page after Page after Page.

All of the pages are just full of him, only him.

Only Jinwoo.

It was only until you counted fifty pages of just Jinwoo that you realize that you in fact, are in love with him.

But why though?

Of all the cute guys and older oppas in the school— You're specifically attracted to Jinwoo?

There's just something... Magical about him. You've always love the prettier and mystical things, you love to live in a dream.

Perhaps its a coping mechanism you developed after all the bullying and mocking you went through in your previous years.

Reality is a sad, sad place.

It's dark and gloomy, the only pretty place sin this twisted hell are the flowers growing in the cracks.

The thought of having feelings for Jinwoo honestly brought a shiver down your spine. After all, you swore to never open your heart and let someone in.

But somehow, that tiny, tiny little box in your heart had Jinwoo containing it.

It's alright.

It'll past. It's just another little crush. Another infatuation.

This is normal, you're a teenaged girl.

But god, days turned into weeks.

And each time you would fall for him more and more.

It's torture, you don't know how to voice out your feelings. You don't know how to keep this overwhelming endearment under lock and key.

Isn't this supposed to be just a little crush?

If so, how come your control over yourself is slipping? Is this even infatuation at this point?

If its not infatuation, then what is it?

With a pen and paper in hand, you started jotting down stuff.

Mind as well make a little love letter.

Cheesy? Of course.

But it's going to be anonymous so surely it's fine.

Maybe if you do this, your feelings will be gone if you see him throw the letter away.

Crumple.

Crumple.

Crumple.

The sound of crumpled papers filled your room for the whole night.

You have to make the perfect love letter

You need to make the perfect love letter.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You were going to sneak up into the classroom in wee early hours of school. Jinwoo is an early bird in school, soyou had to be even earlier.

As you shuffled around in your feet, you instinctively hid behind the bushes.

You can hear Jinwoo's voice.

And another girl's voice.

You swear its him, you were eavesdropping but the words werent registering.

The only thing you are realizing is that Jinwoo has... A gentler tone. His voice isnt bored. Not lazy, just... A little soft.

You had always been very focused on voices, you managed to pick up on even the slight shift on tones because it was your way to dtermine if people are fooling you or mocking you passive-agressively.

The more you listened, the more you felt hopeless.

It was then you realized Jinwoo must have some thing with another girl.

And you honestly... Felt awful, you felt terrible.

Because how dare you make a love letter to someone else's man?

How dare you like someone's man?

How dare you?

No wonder you are all alone, no wonder you are betrayed by your friends, no wonder you were bullied.

You're a fucking freak.

Jinwoo's affections will never be yours, it will never be bestowed upon your pitiful soul.

You're ugly, you're a worthless, piece of shit that is unloved.

So knock it off already, bastard.

So carefully you crawl away, making sure not to step on any leaves or make any rustle as you scurry away.

You then throw the carefully made envelop on the bin and go up the classroom.

while your lonely, sad letter in the bin— Faded into black shadows.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"I'll pick you up after you club," Jinwoo said, ruffling his sister's head who whined in response.

"No, I will go out with my friends after for a crepe!" Jinah whines, stomping. "Oppa, knock it off!"

"Does mom know?" He inquires, amused at his sister's stubborness.

"Yeah, and so does dad!" Jinah beams. "Let me go, yeah?"

"Fine," Jinwoo rolls his eyes. "Don't come home after dark, if you do, call me"

Jinah would only pout, but nods her head as her brother shooed her away.

Jinwoo would watch his sister go to the nearby middle school, smiling softly as Jinah sees her friends and runs to her friends.

"My king," Beru's tiny little head appears beside him, "My liege's muse has thrown a letter"

"Hm?" He perks up in curiousity, holding his hand up to receive the discarded letter. "Huh. How cute."

Jinwoo hummed, turning the envelope over to admire the intricately designed envelope that was a scrapbook paper folded so expertly.

He then opens the thing carefully, to which Jinwoo felt like he was opening a letter from hundreds of years ago because it had a wax seal on it.

Instantly, a refreshing scent would waft through his nose.

It was your scent.

Not that you sprayed the paper with cologne, it's just that Jinwoo has a bloodhound nose and can pick up your scent anywhere.

Carefully, he unfolds the paper that was written in classic cursive.

My dear, sweet star I wonder which dream you have come from How so do you capture my heart with no effort? I can never know, I would never find out My heart aches for you, It is painful and unpleasant But also not so painful You're like a delicate twinkling thing on my dark night sky So close and yet so far You are of another world from Of another reality But how is it that my heart yearns for yours? Your grey eyes akin to a benevolent god's gaze, I find myself lost in them, And in those grey eyes I beg to be drowned in, The abyss I will willingly throw myself into May I love you? May I be allowed to hold these feelings for you? My dear beloved star, May I be selfish just this once and keep you in the small box in my heart? In this world full of madness and woe, Your gentle, sweet and pleasant presence gives me mercy Perhaps you are an angel Or a fleeting snowflake passing by O dear, beloved star Linger in my gaze a little while longer Live in my life for just a bit more Let me love you for quite a bit more

Underneath the poem was a sketch of Jinwoo, a delicately made one. The hunter's face was red to the very tip of his ears. He has never once received a love letter, okay maybe he did when he was in the future but not at this age and with this much effort. It even had a little artwork of him and it made Jinwoo bashful like he is an actual teenage boy.

"God..." Jinwoo groans, scratching the back of his nape as he felt... So fluffy. "You're so cute it's driving me mad"

He continues to sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It's obvious you're going to continue avoiding him for quite a while. Between you and him, he was the man.

And what is a man to do?

He does the pursuing.

With a deep sigh and a rosy hue on his cheeks as looks up at the sky;

"Your star? Sure." He smiles as the wind blows in his direction. "If I'm your star, you'll be my goddess."

꒰ A/N: I'm so sorry for being selfish I just cant help myself xDDD!!! I havent written in so long so this is very clumsy and terrible srry guys hahahah!!! But man,,,, I lovee my woowoo so much<33 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[zevrra]

[𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬.⋆˚࿔]

synop: some drabbles, first kisses & how they’d go with my fav arcane men!

ft. gn!reader, jayce, viktor, & vander

a/n: should i flesh any of these out? >:3

(this is sfw but slightly suggestive w/ a lil angst)

𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐂𝐄

— is the type that once he gets a taste, he doesn’t want to stop.

his hazel eyes glance down at your lips and they linger for a long moment, full of want and need as he debates on kissing you; can see the gears turning inside his head. until jayce realizes he’s staring for a little longer than he should and breaks out in a little embarrassed smile, flashing his fangs and that cute little gap in his teeth. “sorry…” he apologizes, ripping his eyes back up to yours.

“it’s okay.” you whisper; as if you were any better than he was, staring at his tilted lips. craving and wanting him with so much tension, it could surely be cut with a knife.

jayce chuckles nervously under his breath but leans forward despite his hesitation, pushing aside any and all of his worries, as he presses his lips gently against yours. it’s a small, soft peck of a kiss; just enough for him to get a sweet taste of you. he leans back a little then, eyes hazy as if he’s become intoxicated with just one kiss. and before either of you can voice an opinion on your first kiss, jayce is eagerly moving on.

“one more.” he mutters, seeking your lips again. he plants a firm kiss against you this time. his breathing is quickly turning into wild rasps as he presses his lips again and again into yours. his hand are roaming along every inch of your body. fingers grasping at your thighs, digging gently into your skin, smoothing across your waist, tugging you into his own lap while his lips continue to find yours.

he whispers countless of pleas and begs of just “one more” between each kiss until they’re no longer just quick pecks and evolve into fuller, far more passionate kisses. one giant hand runs up your thigh again while his other moves to hook around the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. “taste so good.” jayce whispers just as his tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“more.” he mutters across your reddening lips. “please need a little more…” he adds in a huff, waiting for you to give him the green light.

he’s got your head spinning in circles; breathless while your lips still tingle from his desperate make out. your face burns with a drunken blush from the kiss and you’re not entirely sure if you can find the right words to say, so instead you capture his lips now.

and it’s the only answer he needs before he’s desperately sweeping you back into a passionate make out session.

𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑

— is the type who kisses you by total accident one day and then flees.

it had just been you and viktor in the lab together for days on end. the two of you had worked through countless of formula errors, spent every sleepless night together, drank enough coffee that it could replace every ounce of water in your body; and yet you two enjoyed it more than anything. you laughed, brainstormed, and have come closer than you’ve ever had before.

it was…a little obvious that you liked viktor, well to your knowledge it was but not so much to viktor; or so it seemed.

“you’ve done it!” you exclaim, excitement creeping into your voice as you stand from your chair as vik does the same. you crowd over vik’s shoulder to get a better look at the smooth, luminous glass ball, eyes wide open as you stare at the stabilized hex crystal before you. “you’ve actually done it!”

“no,” vik speaks, ripping off his goggles as he stares up at you. “i could not have done this without you. you’ve contributed so much! we did it.” he adds before tossing his goggles off to the side. he quickly tries to gather any paperwork and journal entries the two of you had written in the last few days; eager to rush off and show his work to heimerdinger and the council. and he says little else, too excited to show off his breakthrough, pocketing the hex crystal as he hurries for the lab door.

in his flurry, he forgets a very important piece of paperwork. you grab it, turning towards the door to the lab where viktor had started heading off towards to, waving it in the air before vik can get too far. “viktor! you forgot something!”

vik stops just at the door and spins on his heel to come hurriedly back to you. but instead of taking the note and continuing on his journey to the council room, he’s instead closing the distance between you and him very quickly; quick enough you don’t have time to think, let alone react as vik is sweeping forward to press his lips fully into yours.

he kisses you then, passionate and full of just pure excitement for the things you two have managed to do. and the kiss is far more amazing than anything you could have imagined but it’s cut entirely too short when vik is suddenly realizing all too fast exactly what he’s done and breaking away. he backs up, damn near tripping over his own cane in his hurry, as he takes the paper right out of your hand. he mutters a goodbye and nothing else before he’s gone; just as quickly as he had kissed you.

you stand frozen, in humbled shock, debating if that had actually happened or not. but the warmth blooming across your lips and face is a dead giveaway that yes, it did in fact happen.

and you smile with the thought that this could be the start of something wonderful…and yet it’s only the start of viktor avoiding you at any cost.

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

— is the type to be a little embarrassed because of his age but really he’s been holding back for too long.

“you don’t really want this, do ya? i’m practically an old man now.” vander laughs from behind his bar top. he sips on the cheap whiskey he’s been drinking the entire night, glancing at you over the rim.

everyone else from the bar had gone home for the night but you had decided to stick around for a little bit longer; just for this. for him. you swirl your drink around inside your cup, glancing between the moving liquid and vander’s handsome face. you had been dropping hints for, god knows how long, that you wanted him, and now that it was just the two of you…you were willing to push your luck a little to get exactly what you wanted.

“mmm i know.” you respond, taking a sip off your own alcohol of choice that night. “that’s what i like about you though.” you add with a smirk.

your response only makes him laugh again, shaking his head. he pushes his cup out of the way and off to the side, most likely empty and definitely forgotten for the rest of the night, as he settles his hands on the edge of his bar. “that so?” he asks with a grin.

you nod, mirroring his grin right back at him. if you were given the chance sooner, you would’ve dragged him out of the bar two and a half hours ago.

“what if this old man can’t keep up with you?”

now it was your turn to chuckle as you crawl up onto the bar, sliding across the wood surface until you’re sitting pretty right between his settled hands. you move your legs to dangle on the other side of the counter, closing the gap as much as you can. “guess you’re just going to have to find out, hmm?” you respond, running a hand down the front of his broad chest.

while he’s still a little hesitant, it doesn’t take anymore convincing as soon as the distance is closed. his gaze is hungry, always has been, as he settles his eyes onto your pretty face. he’s sucking in a deep breath when the last bit of his resolve vanishes. and it’s his turn to close the gap now as he captures your lips in one swift movement. he’s feverishly kissing you, deep and full of yearning. gripping the edge of the bar like his life depends on it, keeping himself upright and from what you can only assume is to hold himself back just a tiny bit; didn’t want to scare you off with just how badly he wanted you too.

vander grunts against your lips, reaching with a large hand to caress the side of your neck, deepening the kiss with a swirl of his tongue meshing into your own before he’s huffing a deep breath and breaking off the kiss. he pants against your slowly swelling lips, still keeping himself close but far enough away you’d have to chase after his lips if you wanted anymore.

“gonna ask again, you sure about this?” vander mutters. and you can see it in his gray eyes, the want and the need he holds for you and how he’s holding himself back, just in case you may have changed your mind.

but that was impossible. you wanted him and only him. you roll your eyes at his slightly concerned tone of voice before you slide your arms up to lock around his neck. “i’m more than sure. now shut up and fucking kiss me.”

[seumyo]

☆ミ EUMY an aspiring lawyer who’s pursuing pre-medicine at 8teen.

mirasol at bituin. you’ve found eumy’s journal, where she dumps all of her random thoughts, ideas, and save all of her fav artworks!! don’t worry, this place is a place filled with sfw content, but there would be spoilers . . . watch out for that, please ☆゙ ֶָ requests are OPEN—though please check out the general rules first + wips are under the cut. posts are always during weekdays !!

☆ミ DIRECTORY. so no one gets lost!

main masterlist ┊ rules and guidelines (important) ┊ carrd

☆ミ CONTENT SCHEDULE.

mon and thurs. bnha & atla ┊ tues and fri. twst & jjk ┊ wed. hq & bllk

☆ミ RECENT ENTRIES.

All I Want for Christmas is You (christmas series)

Love in Translation ft. Kuroo Tetsurou (smau series)

Rainy mornings with Bakugou

☆ミ WORKS IN PROGRESS. personal works

Civil Engineer!Bakugou

Falling and Out of Love ; Husband!Nanami

☆ミ WORKS IN PROGRESS. requests

being atsumu’s pr manager!

cheesy kind of love ft. kaminari

the perfect moment to marry the love of your life: bakugou katsuki’s guide

and shouyou! (bf!kenma & hinata who just happened to live with you and your bf)

your stressful exam season stresses out bf!bakugou

holding the flashlight wrong w/ bf!bakugou

warm like home ft. leech twins

nightmares of bakugou dying

soft makeout sesh with husband!bakugou from “bakugou hates the rain” drabble

what midoriya would post on his instagram for you

exes to lovers w/ bakugou

white rabbit and the red tyrant (riddle rosehearts)

fellas grab your ladies if your lady’s fine ft. hq boys

rating nicknames you call him ft. tendou

☆ミ TAGS.

#₊˚𓂃 🍜⸝⸝﹒— rambles

#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ — works

#𓏲ׂ 📮₊˚ʾʾ — messages

my biggest fan nonnie, 🌼

#‹‹📌𖦹 ִ ࣪ ִ ۫ʾʾ — recs

#›! 🎀 ˖ ݁ ˓ ! — art

#◟𖥻🌻៹┊ — eumycore/saves

#¡  % ⊹  🏯  ᨘ໑ — hirono, kubos, figurine talks

#⌗ ┆🥡 ★ ₊ ˚ — games

#₊˚.🏷️ ≡࿔ — moot milestones/events

#⟩⟩ 🗞️ ’’ ★ — queued

#.₊˚🐝✩ ₊˚ — every thing else

#⟩ ₊˚💫⊹ — milestones

#‹ 📓 ⸝⸝ — 1k event

#⊹﹒🌟﹒⌇ — navigation

ᯓ💣🌻.

ᯓ🐦‍⬛🌻.

ᯓ🌑🌻.

ᯓ🐈‍⬛🌻.

SEUMYO © 2024-2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[lo1k-diamonds]

💎Masterlist💎

All my writing can be found on ao3 and there’s no way I’m putting my gigantic stories here 🙈😅

That said, I’ll still put here the list with all my stories and links to find them!

[All my stories have angst - from just a misunderstanding to full-blown out-of-proportion fights 😋]

🔥 » SMUT | 📚 » multichapter | 🎀 » fluff [G- general/T- teen/M-mature/E-explicit]

Series

{ongoing 💜} Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) >> [Masterpost] >> In this soulmate alternate universe, there are no marks, no strings, and no traces to guide them to their other half. But if they listen carefully, destiny is just around the corner patiently waiting to mix them in the soul palette and create universes - together.

✔ SX Seoul >> [Masterpost] >> SX Seoul is a new club in Itaewon. Decorated with neon lights, its cozy and enveloping ambiance will have you living your wildest dreams. Each story is standalone - one per member!

RM 

{ongoing 💜} Unique (E) 🔥📚 - OC x idol!NJ - Namjoon dedicated his whole life to being a diligent idol, putting the music and group above his individual needs and desires. He believes he's doing the right thing until an unexpected meeting shifts how he sees the world. But life isn't easy, and even a unique connection can't change fate. Or can it? [Masterpost]

Klartraum (E) 🔥📚 - OC x idol!NJ - Fantasy AU » A story that follows Namjoon as he takes notes of his dreams of you in a dream journal.

Smoke Sprite (M) 🔥 - idol!Namjoon x So!YoON! - A short drabble about the song [Tumblr]

Closer (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » NJ x Reader » Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark. [Tumblr]

Jin

Carnation (T)📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (1st entry)» OC x idol!SJ » In early 2018, BTS were at a crossroads: after working so hard to set foot in the music industry of South Korea, their sudden jump into stardom became something they never anticipated. Jin believed in his dongsaengs but was just as lost as them when his soulmate entered the picture. [1st chapter - Tumblr]

Break-line (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » Jin x Reader » You’ve been chasing dreams and medals ever since you can remember, with your best friend Seokjin by your side. You thought you had everything you could possibly want — until you find out Jin is keeping a secret from you. [Tumblr]

Suga

Call you mine (E) 🔥📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (3rd entry)» OC x idol!YG » A slowburn rejection soulmate story about falling in love with Min Yoongi. [1st chapter - Tumblr]

Sugar Rush Ride (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » YG x Reader » You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party. [Tumblr]

Too Sweet (E) 🔥📚 » You x Demon!YG » Coming from unabashed wealth has its perks — like never having to lift a finger in your life. When that suddenly changes, you end up at a crossroads: how far will you go to have everything you want? [Masterpost]

Stellar Behavior (E) 🔥📚 » Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader »  Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.[Masterpost]

J-hope

Seeking the sunrise (E) 🔥📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (2nd entry)» OC x idol!HS » No one needs a soulmate to have love, right? [1st Chapter - Tumblr]

Adage (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » HS x (f)Reader » You have an exclusive interview with the event coordinator of SX Seoul, who happens to be your teenage crush. [Tumblr]

Moving On (E) 🔥» HS x (f)Reader » All you wanted was to help your best friend move in with her fiancé, Jin — you just didn't know putting up with Hoseok came with the deal. And now there's only one bed. [Tumblr]

Jimin

Dress (E) 🔥 - OC x idol!JM » After pining for years, she has reached her breaking point — and it started with a dress. [Reader version - Tumblr]

Like Crazy (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » JM x Reader » You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin’s next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right. [Tumblr]

Down Bad (E) 🔥🩸 - Vampire!Jimin x human(f)reader » You find the cure to your clumsiness in becoming Jimin’s dance partner. But twirling in his arms risks more than just your heart, especially after he bites you. [Part 1][Part 2]

V

Love Crumbs (M) 📚 - OC x Office!Tae - Office AU » Quinn’s plans were simple: win that promotion and maybe have a little fun on the side. Taehyung was in love with someone else, but that wasn’t an issue. It’s a shame things are never really that simple. [1st Chapter - Tumblr]

A woman's best friend (E) 🔥 - Tae x (f) reader » When you met, you and Taehyung hit it off instantly, becoming the closest of friends. You thought he was off limits, meanwhile, he’s been begging for a chance to put an end to your friendship. [Part 1][Part 2]

Paramour (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » Tae x (f) reader » You were born for the quick and glamorous life surrounding celebrities — they had their little dramas and breakdowns, and you were there to clean up the mess. But you have your own secret, and doing your job might get you in trouble with your paramour. [Tumblr]

My Demon, My Love (E) 🔥📚 » Demon!Tae x human (f) reader » All Taehyung wanted was business as usual — strike a deal, claim a soul, and enjoy dessert. But somehow, he ended up powerless, with no choice but to ask for your help. [Part 1][Part 2][Part 3]

Jungkook

Far Cry (E)🔥📚 - OC x idol!JK - Lost AU » After barely escaping captivity, Jungkook is lost in a jungle on an unknown island with an injured Namjoon and an amnesiac girl. [1st Chapter - Tumblr] ➡ snippets

Standing Next to You (M) 🔥 - You x Demon!JK - MV based » JK is a lust demon — a powerful being that inflames desires at the simplest glance. That is his nature and all there is to his existence. Until there was you. [Tumblr]

Bubbles (E) 🔥📚 - SX Seoul Series » JK x Reader » You’re back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes. - [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

How to Choose a Valentine (T) 🎀 - reader x idol!JK » Who knew the best company for Valentine’s Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he’d get you a Valentine? Well, sort of. [Tumblr]

Be as it must (E) 🔥📚 » Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader »  It’s hard being an omega in a world where they've all but disappeared, but you're safe as long as you stay under the radar. What happens when you're found and taken to your boss, CEO Jeon Jungkook?[Masterpost]

Make It Right (E) 🔥📚 » idol!JK x (f)readed » After the last concert in Busan, Jungkook decides to stay at his parents' and make the best of that pause. He never dreamed he would have the chance to meet you again, but now that he has, he won't give up. This is his chance to make things right. [Part 1][Part 2]

[luvseraphh]

dear diary.

▹ synopsis: in which after a study session with your crush you accidentally end up leaving your notebooks in his dorm... including your diary... and he goes through it thinking they were notes...

▹ content warnings: gn!reader, fluff, drabble, painfully awkward and embarrassing!

▹ pairing: izuku x reader

▹ side note: if I were in this situation I think I'd just manifest lightning to strike me down because I would NOT be able to cope with that... also ik this is a little unrealistic but bear with it!!

Shortly after you had left Izuku's dorm, he had begun to tidy up. You two hadn't been rowdy during your study session, but it had left a few things out of place, and he liked to have a fairly neat room. I mean, the dorms weren't that big and a messy space felt smaller so...

When he began to clean, he spotted a pile of notebooks sitting in the corner of his room. He didn't immediately recognize it and assumed it must have been yours, but he decided the best way to make sure was to skim through the notebook on the top.

He was never one to invade people's personal space. And he was never one to judge. But as he began reading a random page in the notebook he realized this wasn't just a school notebook and he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the words on the page.

Dear diary,

I have fallen for my best friend and I have no idea what to do. I mean, his muscles that only show up when he flexes. The soft freckles that litter his kind place. His fluffy green hair that I could play with for hours. His cute little stutter whenever he gets shy or embarrassed about something. The way he rambles whenever his mind is set on something. I've fallen for him and it's awful and beautiful all at the same time and I have no idea what to do.

He couldn't believe his eyes when he read the short entry. I mean, the notebook was now surely your's, but now Izuku had a whole new mystery on his hands. This surely wasn't about him, right? I mean you must've had another best friend who also had fluffy green hair, muscles, freckles, and also had a habit of rambling. There was no possible way for you to like him. I mean, you were you, and he was... well he was him.

He battled with his mind for a long while. What was the best way to approach this? Should he tell you what he read? Should he ignore it completely? Should he try to hint at what he read? What would he do?

In the midst of his crisis, he heard a soft nod sound at his door and he assumed it must've been you. Of course you had noticed your notebooks were missing by now. Especially your diary. He got up with shaky hands, making his way to the door, still battling with his psyche.

"Hi," he nervously said as he opened the door. He felt his heart jump to his throat when he was greeted with you. Had you always been this perfect or was it the way the light was hitting your skin? I mean, he had always had some semblance of feelings for you but this was more intense than anything he had ever felt.

"Hi, did I... did I leave my notebooks in here?" you ask, eyes scanning the room behind him. A lump formed in your throat when you see your diary, still open, on the middle of his dorm floor.

"Oh, um- yeah, yeah you did," he said, turning to gather them for you before realizing his mistake. He had left the notebook open. How stupid could he be? Now the two of you would have to talk about it.

"Is that my..." you ask, trailing off and pointing to the open journal.

"Yeah, um... I might've read a bit," he hesitantly replied, placing all the notebooks back in your hands and bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.

"What exactly did you read?" you asked, already knowing the answer but not being able to process it until you heard it from his mouth.

"It was about your crush but I promise I understand it isn't about me and I won't be weird about it, in fact if you need any help with that crush you wrote about I'm sure I could help. I don't have much experience in that field but I'm sure with some research and help from Denki I could-" he began to ramble, spouting off whatever nonsense came to mind.

"Izuku, it was about you," you quietly said, before turning and running off back to your dorm, not wanting to hear his response.

After three long days of avoiding Izuku as much as you could, he finally confronted you between classes. You two were the only ones ready for heroics, and were awkwardly standing in the training gym waiting for everyone else to file in.

"Hey, Y/N?" he softly asked after a while, not being able to bear the silence any longer.

"Yeah?" you asked, wishing he wouldn't bring up the interaction from a few days ago.

"I... I like you too. I have for a while," he shyly admitted. You looked over at him in awe before a soft smile broke out on your face. You had to bite your cheek to hide an even bigger grin that threatened to force its way onto your lips.

Soon, the rest of the class made their way out of the locker room and into the gym and saw the two of you standing there, awkward and giddy, and know their predictions had finally come to fruition. You two were an awkward match made in heaven.

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ⓒ luvseraph 5/11/25