#me: yeah I don't plan for this au to be angsty

[trainer-from-unova]

the rule

Ⓢ english ao3 ��� spanish ao3 Ⓢ masterlist Ⓢ

ship: the void x afab!reader x robert reynolds

summary: the rule is simple: a day for bob, the next one for void, over and over again. but void is needy and possessive, and insecure and jealous (even though he would never admit it), so when he decides to not let bob have control of their body you decide to ghost him because he's stealing bob's time with you. huge mistake. if you don't talk to him then he would make you scream.

au: bob and the void are a system

c/w: established poly relationship, poly negotiations, jealousy, arguing, ghosting as a punishment, slight dubcon / cnc (aka consensual sex), makeup sex, unsafe vaginal sex, fingerfucking, finger licking, orgasm delay / edging, implied creampie, praise kink, voice kink, dom/sub undertones, possessive (but in love) void, third person pov

a/n: I'll probably post another version of this, shorter but more angsty like I did with muscle memory and a second, also english isn't my first language and feedback is highly appreciated here or on ao3

word count: 2100

The rule was simple: one day one had control of the body to spend time with their girlfriend, the next day the other one, and so on and so forth. As soon as the alarm went off in the mornings they had to change. It had been five minutes since it went off, and Void was still there.

"Are you so anxious for me to leave?" he asked jokingly when she reminded him that he should hand over control to Bob, provocative as only he knew how but deep down annoyed and jealous.

She looked at him with a grimace as they dressed to leave their bedroom, slightly annoyed but not angry — deep down there was no need to get so upset, it was only a few minutes he had taken from Bob. As long as that was all it was it wouldn't be bad. The problem was that Void wanted to get his way and be the one to enjoy spending time with her on her day off.

"It's Bob's turn to spend the day with me," she said more annoyed when an hour had passed and he was still there instead of him, waiting for the lift to go down and out of the tower.

"I don't care, I want to be with you," he replied, infected by her annoyance. "I don't understand why it bothers you to spend time with me, I'm your boyfriend too."

"I don't mind spending time with you when it's your day, I mind you taking Bob's time," she said as the lift door opened and they stepped inside. "It's unfair and Bob and I have the right to spend time together too," she said pressing the button to go down, not very gently. "I have plans with him today," she said looking straight ahead, staring at the lift door.

"I don't care," he replied, craning his neck in her direction and looking at her the whole time.

"Yeah, of course not," she said sarcastically, crossing her arms, "when have you ever cared about anything?"

The question and especially the tone annoyed Void even more, even offended him. He couldn't believe she was asking him that, and it seemed unbelievable that he had to remind her of it.

"You," he replied, calm but serious at the same time, "I care about you," and as soon as she heard that answer, she closed her eyes and craned her neck in the opposite direction as she grimaced with her mouth — touched and sunken, because as much as it bothered her she knew he wasn't lying and that she was the one who had gone too far with her words. "You're literally the only thing that matters to me, ______. And you're also the only one who cares about me."

That was true too, but still Void kept doing something that was wrong, being selfish like a little kid. She didn't want to repeat herself, she didn't want to get into a loop, but she had to say it again whether she liked it or not, because unlike when Bob was in control of the body and listened to Void in his mind, Bob couldn't do that when he was the one in control. Bob couldn't defend himself, so she had to be his voice.

"...It's Bob's turn to spend the day with me," she said as she opened her eyes, still staring straight ahead as the lift beeped. "Go," she said as the door opened and she stepped out.

"...No," he said seriously as he followed behind her, staring as her back was turned.

He followed her like her shadow all the time, and he thought that her anger would soon pass because he was him and because she was usually a cheerful and positive girl, but he was wrong: she didn't speak to him or look at him, she only let himself hold her hand but for not slapping his hand and for someone to see it, especially some paparazzi. Disadvantages of having become a New Avenger, she had to be careful of absolutely every move she made in public because she had an image to look after and a private life to protect.

In desperation he decided to make her talk in the only way he knew how, to calm her down and make her happy in the quickest way he knew how. When they arrived at the tower, as expected, he followed her and went with her into their bedroom, closing the door behind him with his telekinetic powers — latch included, but apparently she didn't notice, or maybe she decided not to give it any importance as she left her bag on her desk chair.

And apparently she also didn't notice or maybe she also decided not to give it any importance as he unbuttoned his trousers, while she turned her back to him and pulled down her trousers to undress and put on more comfortable clothes to go around the house. She didn't notice how he approached her, grabbing her by the waist to turn her around and grab her, slinging her over his shoulder as if she were a sack that weighed nothing.

"Void! What- What are you doing?" she asked in surprise, but not too confused. It was actually a silly question she asked without thinking. Seeing that he was heading for the bed and that his trousers were starting to fall down around his waist, it wasn't too hard to figure out what he was up to. "Void," she said as he released her onto the bed, "this isn't the best m-," she said as she tried to get out of bed, but he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back down as he settled on top of her.

The door may have been locked, but Void would have let her escape if she really wanted to. She could have easily escaped his grasp, even without being trained to do so. She could also have attacked him or tried to immobilise him. But she did nothing, and let him bring his right hand quickly to her crotch, slipping it inside her panties to start touching her. What he noticed there surprised him as well as pleased him.

"Oh, then why are you so wet?" He asked teasingly as he caressed her lips with his fingers, smiling as she tried to look in another direction, frowning as well as blushing, embarrassed. "How long have you been like this? Is it because of my presence?" he asked craning his neck, a mannerism he always did when he was enjoying humiliating someone. "Look at me," he commanded now, much more serious and threatening. "Answer me."

She nodded silently and slowly, connecting their gazes for a second before turning away again, embarrassed and annoyed. But all that would be short-lived, he would make sure those feelings would disappear. Though deep down he liked her playing hard to get, it made him feel more special when he got what he wanted.

"Use your voice," he ordered as he slipped his fingers inside her.

"Yeah," she said as she nodded her head again, a little faster now.

The moment he had his fingers deep inside her he began to move them up and down at high speed, making her scream and writhe in pleasure. She put her hands to her mouth to try to silence herself while also trying to close her mouth and bite her lip, but even if he hadn't grabbed her wrists and pulled them over her head it would have been impossible — he was fucking her mercilessly.

"You move too much," he said slightly annoyed that he had to restrain her. He would have preferred to lift her shirt with the hand that was pinning her down to see her tits, apart from the fact that she sometimes unintentionally closed her legs a little. Her eyes were also closed. "Look at me," he ordered seriously, and she obeyed, "I'm better than Robert," he said trying to convince her, but deep down he was trying to convince himself. "Say it!"

"You're b-better than Bob! You're the best, at everything!"

"You've got a favourite and that's me, right?"

"Yeah!" she moaned as he arched her back.

"Good girl."

"Please-!"

But soon after that he stopped dead in his tracks. Even if she didn't moan that she was about to cum it was obvious, he could feel her pussy throbbing, clinging to his increasingly wet fingers — he stopped too close, to make her even more desperate. On the one hand he wanted to show her that he was better than Robert, to calm her down and make her happy, but on the other hand he also wanted to punish her, torturing her even if it wasn't in the same way she had tortured him during the day. Besides, watching her writhe in pleasure beneath him as she sobbingly begged him to continue, plus the way she sobbed when she felt him stop at the worst possible moment, were scenes almost as satisfying as his own orgasm.

When he stopped masturbating her he released her and made her lick his fingers clean, sliding his fingers along her tongue careful not to make her gag as he stared hungrily and intently at her. Then, as she caught her breath he ordered her to undress while he did the same, quickly removing his clothes from his upper body and pulling down his boxers to free his erect penis.

"Do you want this?" he asked as he grabbed his cock, pulling him close and settling down to stroke her entrance with his wet tip, mixing her flow with his pre-seminal fluid.

"Yeah please," she moaned eagerly. She needed more, she felt empty without him inside her.

She tried to stifle another moan as he thrust his member in without any gentleness, failing in the attempt and clutching his shoulders tightly with her shaky hands. He didn't flinch, just watched her facial expression. And he had no patience for letting her insides get used to him, but because he knew she didn't need to. She moaned again as he began to move back and forth, keeping her hips firmly gripped.

He began to ram into her, harder and faster, making her moan louder and more frequently. Now you could also hear the springs of the mattress and box spring hitting the wall, and his hips against hers. He loved the sensation of making himself hollow between her throbbing, wet walls, and so did she. But most of all he loved her moans and the things she said, hearing how she confirmed how much she liked it and begged for more. It made him feel wanted, it made him feel loved and accompanied.

"Say you love me more than him," he ordered her.

"I- I love you more- more than him!" she replied.

Her back began to arch against the mattress again, sobbing. Void was ramming into her so hard and fast that her whole body shook with each thrust, and she didn't know how he hadn't broken the bed yet.

"Fill me, please!" she begged, her breath hitching and her voice getting higher and higher. She was about to cum, it was obvious. "Please please please!" she said begging for more and at the same time for mercy as she felt a heat forming in her lower abdomen going down. "I need it, I need you!"

"That's my girl," he said smirking. He gladly complied and grabbed her to keep her from moving or unintentionally separating, feeling her pussy begin to clench against his cock.

"Yes please please, use me, I'm yours!" she cried, and lucky for her, he listened to her: he came inside her at the same time she did, mixing their fluids completely and making her lose her mind as she writhed and screamed with pleasure, while he grunted and ended up lying on top of her, satisfied in many ways. He heard from her lips everything he wanted to hear and got what he wanted again, getting his way.

"I love you, and I swear it..." He said in her ear as he pulled back — as she caught her breath she thought he would pull out of her, pulling out of her to let his cum out. He always loved to see how well he filled her, but when there was just a little left to get his cock all the way out he thrust into her again, making her moan again and cling tightly to him. "Someday you'll be all mine, just mine."

© trainer-from-unova / alicent burton | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 1

jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

a/n: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow, reblog, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

find tmhtl masterlist here

find tmhtl playlist here

It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, ___, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y���know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“___, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

Part 2 >

[2i1han]

Slowly, Then All at Once

2 : since then

pairing: classmate!leehan x fem!reader │word count: 8.9k

genre: fluff, a bit angsty, slow-burn, young adult, coming of age, romcom

tags: boynextdoor , non-idol au, high school/college au , first love , neighbor!leehan , extrovert!leehan , cold!leehan , extrovert!reader

characters mentioned : kim leehan , park sungho , anton lee , sakai moka , kim minji , ham jinsik , kim woonhak

warnings: no warnings! sfw

synopsis : you and leehan have always known each other—classmates since ninth grade, always familiar but never really close due to leehan's indifference. but when his brother enters the picture, and you ending up in the same building as him, everything starts to change. unresolved situation that were once buried begin to surface, and leehan must decide: let go or finally take a chance.

a/n : hi, everyone! this is the second full part for my series. and, i just wanted to say thank you to all those who read the first part and supported it ! i love you all so much 𖹭 i hope you'll enjoy this part as much as i enjoyed writing it.

playlist : seasons/wte , the first words/song yuvin , a little bit more/jinho , everyone adores you/matt maltese , so let's go see the stars/boynextdoor , but i like you/boynextdoor , so tender/say sue me , bad/wte , light/wte , chocolate/bol4 , some/soyou , would you love me/stella jang , everyday/haebin , star drawing/yuziii

the countdown to graduation had begun. it's the first weeks of october, and the air is starting to get cold, as well as the trees turning bright orange. five months left, and summer vacation was already waving hello from a distance like a blessing. but instead of enjoying the thought of freedom, everyone was drowning in piles of textbooks, mock exams, and late-night study sessions for the csat entrance exams. the entire school felt like it had turned into a pressure cooker, students running on caffeine and stress as they prepared for college entrance exams.

and you? you were no exception. while others buried themselves in past papers, you were sacrificing sleep at ungodly hours, struggling to piece together the perfect art portfolio for your university application. between exam prep, graduation rehearsals, and finishing last-minute school requirements, you barely had time to breathe.

so when the weekend rolled around, you decided to reclaim a small piece of your sanity. you swung by moka's apartment, planning to meet up with her and minji— your first proper hangout in weeks.

moka sat at her vanity, delicately patting powder onto her face like she was about to go on a magazine shoot instead of a casual outing. she glanced at you through the mirror.

"how's your portfolio going?" she asked, dabbing her nose with a fluffy brush.

you sighed dramatically, flopping onto her bed like a tragic indie. "it's fine… i guess. i just don't think some of my existing pieces are good enough." you groaned, rubbing your forehead. "that's why i'm still trying to make new ones."

moka immediately turned to face you, her expression is a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "you can't be serious." she put her powder down as if you had personally offended her. "y/n, you're literally at the top of your class when it comes to art. even the professors are obsessed with you!"

she wasn’t wrong. you had consistently won every art competition, and teachers practically worshipped your skills. but self-doubt was a clingy little parasite, and no amount of external validation could change the way you fixated on the tiny flaws in your work.

you just shrugged it off, knowing that moka will again hit you with the every art has flaws.

"yeah, whatever." picking up your phone from the bed, you scrolled through your messages. "is minji still not coming?"

moka hummed in response, too focused on applying her false lashes to spare you a damnm

right on cue—

ding dong.

"speak of the devil," you muttered, tossing your phone aside before getting up to open the door.

as expected, minji stood there, slightly breathless, her denim jumper speckled with dried paint. her hair was in a messy bun, strands of hair flowing like they had given up on being tied.

"sorry i'm late," she panted, stepping inside. "extracurriculars ran long."

you closed the door behind her, eyeing the paint stains on her clothes. "mhm, looks like it," you said, plopping back onto the bed as minji took a seat on a wooden chair—probably to avoid ruining moka's fluffy pink bedsheets.

"so," minji stretched her arms, "where are we heading?"

"the new café on the next street," moka announced, wiggling her eyebrows. "i heard their pastries are the real thing."

you perked up. "sweet. i've been craving sugar." you lazily raised your phone above your head.

on the other hand, minji groaned. "i'm on a sugar diet, but fine." she crossed her arms. "where did you even hear about this place?"

that's when moka's expression shifted into something far too smug for your liking. "my friend told me," she said, twirling a strand of her hair. "i wasn’t interested at first, but then she mentioned that the barista there is handsome."

you and minji immediately shared a look.

"...ewww," you both deadpanned, cringing.

"the pastries better be actually good, or we're leaving you behind," you warned, stifling a laugh.

moka just shrugged, grinning. "gladly. more eye candy for me."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

the three of you stepped into the café, immediately greeted by the warm interior, a contrast to the chill autumn air outside. the place had a cozy ambiance—soft lighting, large window panes letting in the golden hues of the late afternoon sun, and walls painted a light coffee brown. it wasn't a huge place, but spacious enough, with about eight tables spread around the room. the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries hung in the air, making your stomach grumble slightly.

you glanced around as the three of you settled at a four-seater table by the window, the perfect spot for people-watching and rating cars driving by.

"i'll order. what do you guys want?" you asked, tapping your fingers lightly on the table.

moka and minji hummed in thought, their eyes drifting to the digital menu displayed on the right wall.

"just a hot cocoa for me. and for the pastry… let’s just get a whole tiramisu cake," moka decided, leaning back in her chair.

minji nodded in agreement. "that'll do. i'll get an iced americano."

"alright," you murmured before pushing yourself up from your seat and heading toward the counter.

the café wasn't too crowded, only about three other customers were seated inside, all quietly sipping on their drinks. you were the only one at the counter, so you took your time glancing at the overhead menu, even though you had already decided.

i'll just get what moka did, you muttered under your breath before shifting your eyes left and right, scanning the empty counter. you were mildly curious about this so-called handsome barista moka had been fawning over.

and as if on cue, the door to the employee's room swung open.

there he is. the legendary ‘handsome’ barista.

you blinked, suppressing a chuckle. if this was moka's definition of handsome, then water must be dry.

the guy was tall, his jet-black hair falling slightly over his forehead in a way that looked both effortless and intentional. his skin was clear—flawless, even, and his nose was sharp enough to cut glass. fine, maybe some points there. he wore a light cream polo under a black apron, the typical café worker drip.

he caught your gaze and immediately approached, his expression was smooth and light.

"what'll you have today, miss?" his voice was gentle, and polite, almost overly refined like he was a nobleman in disguise.

you almost wanted to laugh, but instead, you matched his energy with a small smile. "two hot chocolates and one iced americano. all medium-sized."

"andd… pastry?" he tilted his head slightly, still smiling.

"one whole tiramisu cake," you confirmed.

the barista nodded enthusiastically before punching the order into the register. "that'll be 43,000 won, miss."

you handed him your card, watching as he swiftly swiped it before handing it back.

"thank you. you can take your seat; i'll bring your order to your table," he offered, gesturing toward the seating area.

you nodded and turned around, only to be met with the sight of moka practically jumping with excitement, her eyes locked onto the barista like he was a rare artifact in a museum.

rolling your eyes, you made your way back and sat down next to minji.

"he's not even that handsome," you commented, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly.

moka's head snapped toward you so fast you feared she might get whiplash. "this is exactly why no guy approach you anymore," she deadpanned. "do you know how many hot guys in school have tried to get with you, only for you to brutally reject them and tell us that they weren't ‘handsome’?"

minji, ever the slightly neutral party, simply nodded in agreement. "i mean… she's got a point." shhe paused for a second before stealing another glance at the barista. "he is handsome. you're just bitter."

you sighed, sparing another glance at the guy, who was now carefully scooping out the tiramisu from the pastry window. "fine. i'll give you two some credit. his skin is nice, and he's got a decent nose. other than that, nothing special."

minji leaned back against the windowpane, while moka let out an exaggerated ugh. her dramatic reaction was short-lived, though, as her smile suddenly creeped back in two times wider than the last. you didn't even have to turn around to know what that meant.

the barista was approaching.

"here's your order, miss," he said, setting the tray down with grace.

moka, in true moka fashion, didn't even glance at the food. her attention was zeroed in on the barista's face, studying every detail like she was going to write a dissertation on it.

you nodded in thanks, ignoring the way the barista's gaze lingered on you for a good three seconds before he walked away.

as soon as he was out of earshot, moka sighed dreamily. "oh my god, he's so handsome."

you picked up your fork and stabbed your slice of tiramisu with a blank expression. "sure."

moka's face flattened as she swirled her straw in her drink. she exhaled dramatically before giving you a pointed look.

"is this all just because of your poor eyesight?" she asked, as if genuinely concerned for your well-being.

minji, mid-sip of her iced americano, nearly choked, letting out a half-laugh, half-cough.

rolling your eyes, you adjusted your thick-framed glasses, the same ones you had stubbornly worn since middle school, despite constant suggestions (or rather, bullying) from your friends. "please. i'm planning to switch to contacts soon."

moka gasped, clutching her chest like you had just declared peace. "finally! maybe then you'll see the world properly, or, see hot people properly.”

you raised an eyebrow. "the world, sure. hot people? questionable."

minji snickered while the other one groaned, shaking her head in disappointment. "you are a lost cause."

she then propped her chin on her hand, a dreamy look spreading across her face. "even his name is handsome," she dragged out the syllables in front of you.

"park. sungho."

minji side-eyed her. "wow, how do you even know his name?" she scoffed before you could ask the exact same question.

moka rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "duh, it's on his name tag. didn't you see?"

minji snorted. "i barely looked at him. ask y/n, she was at the counter."

both of them turned to you expectantly.

you blinked at them before shoving another forkful of tiramisu into your mouth. "nope, didn't notice."

moka's jaw dropped "unbelievable. you were standing right there!"

you chewed slowly, shrugging. "was focused on the order. priorities."

minji let out a snort while moka threw her hands in the air. "whatever, you're so boring. let's just enjoy this before i lose my mind." she said, stabbing a fork on the cake.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

by the time the three of you had inhaled the cake and drained your drinks, minji let out a satisfied sigh, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"mhm, okay. this is actually the real thing," she said, stretching her arms.

moka leaned back proudly, folding her arms. "told you."

you hummed in agreement as you swirled the last bits of your hot chocolate. the tiramisu was, in fact, perfection. even the coffee was good, like it was made by someone who actually cared about their job. you hated to say it, but maybe moka's handsome barista had some redeeming qualities beyond his face.

just as you reached for a napkin to wipe your mouth, something caught your eye

something was written under it. your brows furrowed as you turned it over.

a number?

and a note underneath: "you look pretty."

you stared at it. then, instinctively, you looked back to the counter. sungho was busy now, his sleeves rolled up as he worked through a growing line of customers. his face remained completely focused, but he glanced over.

you immediately looked back down at the napkin.

minji was already pulling on her coat, and moka was, of course, checking herself out in her pocket mirror.

"all right, are we ready to go?" she asked, running a hand through her hair one last time.

"yeah, sure," minji yawned, stretching her arms.

you casually crumpled the napkin in your palm and shoved it into your pocket. no big deal. nothing to see here.

as the three of you stepped out into the street, you shook your head, exhaling sharply.

moka nudged you as you walked. "you're being weird. what's up?"

"nothing," you said quickly.

moka narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but minji cut in before she could pry.

behind you, inside the café, sungho briefly glanced toward the window, watching you disappear down the street.

then, with a small smirk, he returned to his work.

"where are we heading now? it's only 3 p.m.," minji asked as she lazily stretched her arms above her head.

moka didn't even hesitate. "the mall. come on, let's go."

minji hummed in approval, already pulling out her phone to check for any new sales.

you were just about to nod when a sudden realization hit you like a brick to the face. your sculpture. the one that was due tomorrow. monday afternoon.

"oh, crap." you stopped in your tracks, causing both of them to halt and turn to you with raised eyebrows.

"what?" moka asked, her excitement fading slightly.

you let out a tight-lipped sigh. "i just remembered, i have an unfinished sculpture in the art room. i need to finish it today. you guys go ahead without me. i'll catch up if i can."

moka's eyes immediately narrowed. "absolutely not."

here we go.

"come onnn, we barely even go out anymore! just this once, prioritize us over some lump of clay," she whined, dramatically clasping her hands together like she was pleading for her life.

"it's not just a lump of clay, moka," you deadpanned.

six pleases and ten ‘we barely go out anymore's later, moka finally sighed in defeat, crossing her arms.

"fine. but next time, make sure you don’t have any unfinished tasks, so we can enjoy the day properly, okay?" she looked at you almost pitifully, like you were some overworked corporate employee instead of a graduating student.

you chuckled, pulling both her and minji into a quick hug. "i promise. take care, both of you."

minji patted your back. "you too. don't let the clay take over your life."

with that, they waved goodbye, and you made your way to the bus stop, waiting for the ride that would take you the very place you had been trying to escape all week.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

by the time you arrived at the art room, you fully expected to be the only student who had procrastinated this badly. but as soon as you pushed the door open, the atmosphere inside shifted.

there, seated at one of the workstations, was leehan—completely engrossed in his sculpture, his hands steady as he gripped a sculpting tool.

you walked slowly, carefully making your way toward your own workspace, which just so happened to be right next to his.

of course.

leehan barely glanced at you, but when he did, it was through the gaps of his hands as he continued shaping his piece. his focus remained stable, and, predictably, he didn't say a word.

not that you were expecting him to.

it had always been like this for the past three years. silent. neutral. two people coexisting in the same space without the need for conversation.

so, treating this as just another normal day, you sat down and got to work.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

thirty minutes passed, and your sculpture was already coming together nicely. the texture was smooth, the facial anatomy was decent, and all that remained were the arms and legs.

meanwhile, leehan's progress… was questionable at best.

you snuck a glance at his work.

it hadn't moved. at least, not noticeably. the proportions were off, the limbs were… concerning, and at this point, it was starting to look more like an artifact from a horror museum rather than an academic project.

he was struggling.

you furrowed your brows. why did he even choose an art strand? was he actually passionate about it? or was this some twisted form of self-inflicted suffering?

whatever the reason, you couldn't ignore it any longer.

"do you need help?" you asked, more out of pity than actual expectation.

and honestly, you weren't expecting an answer. if anything, you thought he'd ignore you like always.

but then, like some kind of miracle, leehan put his sculpting tool down and mumbled:

"yes, please."

yes, please.

your brain short-circuited.

it wasn't just a yes. it wasn't just some bare-minimum grunt of acknowledgment.

there was a please.

was this for real? or had the painful silence in the room finally driven you insane?

but before you could spiral into that thought, you shook it off. whatever, not important. you had a job to do.

you nodded, moving over to his table as you examined his sculpture up close.

"do you even know basic anatomy?" you asked, tilting your head at the poor, disfigured limbs of his creation. it was... unique.

leehan barely glanced up. "i'm bad at it." his voice was quiet, almost as if admitting this was painful.

you hummed in response, crossing your arms.

"well," you sighed, picking up a sculpting tool, "lucky for you, i don't suck at it."

leehan smiled to himself. an actual smile.

not a forced one, but a real, genuine, pleased-with-life kind of smile. but, thankfully for him, you didn't notice. you were too busy sculpting, completely focused on saving his poor project. and honestly? he was probably relieved. if you had seen it, that carefully crafted, too-cool-to-care exterior he had built over the years might've shown some cracks.

instead, he simply stood beside you, watching as you worked with effortlessly.

"watch how i do it," you said, not even glancing up.

leehan obeyed without question, his gaze glued to your hands and the clay.

minutes passed, and the disfigured limbs of his sculpture were slowly reshaped into something actually recognizable. you worked swiftly, skillfully, and before long, you placed the sculpting tool down with a satisfied sigh.

"there," you said simply.

leehan leaned in, inspecting the piece with his usual unreadable expression. but even though he tried not to be expressive, you could tell—he was amazed.

"thank you. a lot," he said, his eyes locking onto yours.

for a second, you weren't sure how to respond. compliments weren't exactly his thing, and hearing him say a full, properly structured sentence felt almost weird. so you just offered a small, awkward smile.

"it's nothing," you muttered.

then it's followed by silence.

it wasn't awkward, per se, but it felt different from your usual shared quiet. like something was waiting to be said next.

you hesitated before speaking. "why..."

you nearly stopped yourself, figuring leehan's free trial of words had probably expired. but when you glanced at him, you noticed that he was listening. actually waiting for you to continue.

so, you did. "why did you take art classes? i notice you struggling a lot with it... even when we're still in middle school."

the question seemed to shrink his usual confidence, or whatever distant, broody aura he carried. his fingers twitched, and his posture stiffened.

then, finally, he exhaled and looked away, focusing on the sculpture rather than you.

"my mom," he said, "she wants me to take arts."

"ohh" you simply nodded. you weren't going to push.

but you still did "don't let anyone stop you from doing what you really want," you said, keeping your voice casual.

leehan's eyes flickered down to his sculpture. for a moment, he didn't move, just absorbed your words in silence. then, he gave a small nod.

the conversation ended there, followed by another silence again. and you took that as your cue to return to your table.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

it was 6:30 p.m. when you finally finished.

your sculpture was done—polished, covered, and ready to be presented tomorrow. meanwhile, the person beside you? still in the exact same spot you left him in.

except, now, his project had actual progress. thanks to the sketch you had given him as a guide, the limbs no longer looked like they belonged in a horror exhibit. he still had a long way to go, but at least he wasn't completely lost anymore.

you packed your bag, hesitating for a second.

should i tell him i'm leaving?

you never did before. not once. usually, you'd just slip out without a word, and he never seemed to care.

but maybe, after today's surprisingly human interaction, it felt weird to just go without acknowledging him.

so, after a moment of internal debate, you finally spoke up.

"i'll get going," you said, pointing vaguely toward the door.

leehan looked up slowly.

you expected him to do his usual nod—you know, that tiny, barely-there bow that was less of a gesture and more of a muscle spasm.

but instead, he actually said something.

"okay."

not just a nod. a full, verbal response. it's flat, but at least it's a thing.

you nodded back, stepping toward the door.

as you left, you didn’t notice leehan watching you the entire way, not turning back to his sculpture until you had fully leave the room.

he has to figure it all out on his own now that his art genius classmate had left.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

ring. ring.

after a few rings, minji finally picked up.

"hello?" you said, pressing the phone to your ear while speed-walking toward the bus stop.

"hello? what's up?" minji's voice crackled on the other end.

"moka isn't answering her phone. are you guys still out?" you asked, adjusting the strap of your bag.

"nah, we just got home. her phone died," minji explained. "we're at her apartment. you coming?"

"mhm," you hummed. "i'll be there now."

"alright. don't get kidnapped. take care."

"wow, thanks for the reminder," you chuckled before hanging up.

you sat onto the bench at the bus stop, letting out a sigh. the bus was taking forever. long enough for you to consider filing a complaint. but instead, you just leaned your head against the metal pole of the shed and jammed your earphones in.

then— knock, knock.

you flinched, pulling out an earbud.

standing beside you was none other than moka's handsome barista from earlier.

"hey," he greeted, smiling slightly.

you quickly sat up, smoothing your clothes like that would somehow make you look less caught off guard. "oh, hi! uh… you're the barista from earlier." you pointed.

he chuckled, nodding. "mhm."

"are you… also waiting for the bus?" you asked, mostly just to fill the silence.

sungho let out a short laugh and shook his head, lifting the small bag in his hand. "just dropping something off."

ah, a delivery or something. not that it mattered. you were a little too preoccupied pretending not to remember the note. the one he casually slipped under your tissue at the café, complete with his phone number and a compliment scribbled underneath.

you thought about bringing it up. you really did.

but then again, what were you even supposed to say? "hey, thanks for the note, but i nearly choked on my drink when i saw it"?

yeah. no.

so instead, you awkwardly nodded. "i see. well… take care, i guess."

sungho, just nodded. he took a step back like he was about to leave, and you were about to sink back into your seat when—

"what's your name?"

you quickly looked back to him. but, before you could respond, the bus's headlights flickered behind him.

"seo y/n," you answered, flashing him a smirk.

sungho's lips curled up slightly to a small smile as the bus doors hissed open.

for a second, he looked like he wanted to say something else, maybe a take care or a see you around. but the moment passed.

instead, he just watched as you stepped onto the bus.

and when you turned back for a quick glance, he was already walking away, hands tucked into his pockets, disappearing down the street.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"really? you met him?" moka whined, dragging out the words like she was personally offended by fate for not being there.

"yup." you threw a chip into your mouth, acting as nonchalant as possible, though moka's growing excitement was making that difficult.

minji sat on moka's bed, scrolling through her phone with the energy of someone who had heard this before. meanwhile, you and moka were sprawled on the fluffy rug, surrounded by snacks that were supposed to be for a "movie night" but had instead turned into a tea party.

"ugh, lucky. what'd y'all talk about?" moka leaned in, eyes gleaming like she was waiting for some heart-racing, k-drama-worthy story.

you frowned, trying to recall anything that might be considered even remotely interesting. "uh… he said hi, mentioned he was dropping something off, asked for my name, and… that was it."

silence, then-

"that's lame." minji finally spoke, still not looking up from her phone.

moka smacked her leg. "shut up, minji," before turning back to you with a grin "oh my god, he wants you."

you blinked. "that's a reach."

"no, because look," moka sat up with determination. "why would he even ask for y/n's name? he doesn't even know her!"

"well, no shit," minji scoffed, rolling her eyes. "why else would he ask for y/n's name?"

moka glared at her. "you're ruining the fun."

minji shrugged. "i live to bring logic into chaos."

you just shook your head, laughing. "anyway, forget about sungho. something weird happened today."

moka barely looked interested, probably expecting another "i lost my paintbrush again and i swear someone in the art department is gaslighting me" story.

but then you said the magic name.

"leehan-"

and suddenly, both of them snapped their attention to you so fast you thought you heard a crack.

"leehan?!" moka practically screeched, throwing her snack bag aside like this was now the most important conversation of her life.

"why? what happened? did he ignore you again?" minji raised an eyebrow. "thought we left that nightmare back in 10th grade."

you sighed. "no, that's the weird part. he actually… talked to me."

moka's jaw dropped. "what?"

"like, full sentences. he asked for my help with his sculpture."

moka gasped like you had just told her the school was burning down. "HE SPOKE? VOLUNTARILY?"

"yes! and not just a one-word answer. like, actual conversation. he even made eye contact."

minji snorted. "his dialogue options unlocked."

"he leveled up socially," you added. "well, he's already leveled up socially, i just meant, when it comes to me."

"okay, but what if it's a one-time thing?" moka waved a hand dismissively. "like when an npc suddenly gets good ai for one mission and then goes back to walking into walls."

you wanted to argue, but, she might be right. a part of you was curious, though. maybe it was just today, or maybe leehan had finally decided you were worth acknowledging as a human being. who knew?

so you just shrugged it all off. "guess we'll see."

and after that, the conversation shifted into something else entirely—probably a debate about whether or not one of your professors secretly lived at school. you spent the rest of the night laughing, overanalyzing everything, and eventually crashing at moka's place for a sleepover.

��� 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

and guess what? moka was right.

because by the next morning, leehan had officially reset to his factory settings.

you were sitting at your desk, mentally willing something, anything— miraculous to happen. maybe he'd give you another full sentence. mybe he'd iinitiate a conversation. but no, the universe wasn't that kind.

leehan did approach your desk, though, standing in front of you with his usual blank expression, looking down like you were nothing more than an obstacle in his path.

still, you held onto hope. you flashed a small smile, waiting for some sign of acknowledgment. instead, he just unceremoniously dropped a folder onto your desk.

you blinked.

it was the proportion guide you lent him last night. but underneath it—your portfolio.

your soul left your body for a second.

your portfolio. the one with all your hard work. the one that, if lost, would've made you spiral into an artistic breakdown and probably quit life to become a potato farmer. you must've accidentally handed it to him, and if it weren’t for leehan returning it, it would've been gone.

you almost teared up. this was an act of heroism. you looked up at him, smiling wider this time.

"thank yo—"

but before you could even finish your sentence, he turned and walked away.

you sat there, stunned.

what was that? just last night, he was behaving like a functional human being, and now he was back to being as soulless as a department store mannequin.

moka was right. again.

and just like that, life resumed its usual routine until graduation. back to square one. same old leehan. same old you.

after grad party

every graduate was at the venue, celebrating their long-awaited escape from the prison sentence called high school. of course, college was just another prison, but at least there was a vacation buffer before the next round of suffering.

you had successfully submitted your portfolio and got accepted into k-arts—your dream university. minji had also been accepted into the same university as both of you passed your portfolios together, while moka, despite sulking for two weeks over being separated from you both, eventually forgave you.

"you guys still suck for leaving me," she muttered, munching on a piece of pork.

minji sighed. "oh my god, moka, you're going to snu. people would kill to be in your spot."

"okay, but who am i supposed to bully now?"

"you'll find someone," you assured her, patting her back. "you're very talented in that area."

she sniffed dramatically. "i know, but it won't be the same."

the three of you laughed, clinking your glasses together in a toast.

tonight was lighthearted, fun, and stress-free. a concept that had been nonexistent throughout senior year. no last-minute projects. no looming deadlines. just pure, uninterrupted joy.

you were at a table with your friends, laughing, playing games, living in the moment.

and then there was leehan.

seated at the table across from yours.

you weren’t paying much attention to him at first. but then, something felt off.

you could feel his eyes on you.

at first, you thought you were imagining it. but every time you glanced up, he was looking at you.

and not in his usual indifferent, "you are but a speck of dust in my world" kind of way.

no.

this time, he looked, different. his expression wasn't blank. it was full of emotion, thoughts running through his mind. he looked deep in contemplation, like he was having an inner monologue straight out of a coming-of-age film.

your forehead started to burn under the intensity of his gaze.

what the hell is going on with him?

he didn't look away when you caught him. he just, kept watching, like he was trying to figure something out.

you tried to play it cool, raising an eyebrow at him as if to say, what?

he didn't react immediately, just kept his gaze steady. then, after a long second, he blinked and looked down, breaking the moment.

your heart was beating a little faster than it should have been.

trying to shake off the weird tension, you simply nodded at him, before turning back to your friends.

minji and moka, of course, immediately noticed.

"oh-ho," minji smirked, taking a sip of her drink. "what was that?"

"what was what?" you asked.

moka gasped, gripping your arm. "was leehan just staring at you?"

"no," you lied too quickly.

"yes, he was," minji confirmed, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "and not in his usual i have no interest in your existence way too."

moka let out a dramatic gasp, shaking your shoulders. "oh my god, what if he likes you?!"

you let out a snort. "yeah, and what if i suddenly become a billionaire? let's stick to realistic theories."

the night went on, but even as you laughed with your friends and enjoyed the celebration, a part of you kept replaying that moment in your head.

because for the first time in years, maybe ever—leehan looked at you like you were more than just another person in the room.

THROUGH LEEHAN'S EYES

the hall is bustling with graduates—cheers, laughter, the screech of chairs against the polished floor. it's the kind of noise that usually fades into the background, something i could easily tune out.

but tonight, everything feels louder. the clinking of glasses, the bursts of conversation, the music playing through the speakers. the air smells like a mix of catered food and perfume, a scent that's oddly overwhelming.

i should be celebrating.

i mean, i managed to survive three years of this painful art strand—something i had no real passion for when i first chose it. the reason behind my decision was so dumb that i start laughing at myself whenever i remember it.

but even though i spent countless nights regretting my choice, i don't regret all of it.

well… except for some things, like i didn't valued it.

i look up, eyes naturally scanning the room, and then i see her. y/n.

she's sitting at a long table across the venue, laughing with moka and minji—who, let's be honest, have been a pain in the butt since 7th grade.

it's that time of the year again.

people are moving on, going to different universities, starting fresh. some are staying in the same city, some are leaving. everyone's talking about their future like it's something so clear, and exciting.

but tonight, none of that feels real to me.

instead, there's this weight in my chest, a combo of regret and guilt that i can't shake off.

because this might be the last time i'll ever see her. and i don't want things to end like this.

i get so lost in my thoughts that i don't even realize i've been staring at her for too long. too long to be casual.

and then, she notices. her laughter slows, her eyes directed towards me, and for a split second, i think she's about to say something, but she just nodded.

shit.

i panic and quickly look down, pretending to be interested in the tablecloth or whatever nonsense anton is talking about beside me. my heart shouldn't be beating this fast over something so small, but it is.

despite the chaos around her, the crowd, the music, the noise—she stands out.

it's always been like that.

like she exists on a different frequency than everyone else, moving at her own pace while the rest of us struggle to keep up.

like she's the only one truly living in the moment while i’m stuck in my head, always thinking, always hesitating.

she's always had this annoying ability to make everything else fade into the background.

and maybe that's why, even back in 9th grade, i couldn't help but notice her.

9th grade

"good morning, teacher," we all greeted before settling back into our seats.

"good morning, everyone. settle down," the teacher said, adjusting his glasses. "now, before we begin, i'd like to introduce a new student who will be joining us for the school year."

a wave of excitement rippled through the classroom. people started murmuring, whispering to each other like buzzing bees. i quickly turned my head toward the door, just like everyone else, but with the number of students shifting in their seats, my view was blocked.

having a new classmate sounded exciting—a small breath of fresh air after being stuck with the same faces since 7th grade.

then, with a small nod from the teacher, the new student stepped in.

she was a girl.

short hair, cut just above her neck, with soft, wispy bangs framing her round, slightly chubby cheeks. a pair of thick, round glasses perched on her tall nose, making her look a little nerdy but in a way that suited her.

then, she spoke.

"hello, everyone! my name is y/n. i'm 15 years old and just moved into the neighborhood down the street. i hope we can all be friends!"

she gave a light bow, her voice bright and clear, effortlessly filling the classroom.

and that's when i knew it.

i'm cooked.

my heart started pounding so fast i didn't even know what was happening anymore. it was like my brain short-circuited, and my body decided to go into emergency mode. my ears burned hot, my hands turned ice-cold, and before i could process it, my head snapped toward the window in an attempt to distract myself.

this was bad. really bad.

i heard the teacher assigning her a seat, and i prayed—please don’t be near me, please don’t be near me—but then

"you can sit there, next to that boy by the window."

shit. that was my seat.

but just as i was about to internally combust, a voice from the back spoke up.

"sir, han taesan sits there. he's just absent today."

oh, thank god. taesan thank you.

the teacher nodded and assigned her a different seat. i let out a silent sigh of relief. disaster avoided.

or not.

because during break time, she approached me.

i wasn't even looking at her, but i could sense her presence. i felt my muscle went tense, my back straightening reflexively. she was standing right in front of me.

"what's your name?"

oh my god.

i hesitated before looking up. and then—she smiled.

i can't stutter. I CAN'T STUTTER.

"...leehan. kim leehan," i blurted out before immediately pretending to be interested in the random writings on my notebook.

she didn't seem to mind my awkwardness. in fact, she continued talking.

"are you alone? you can sit with us!"

panic.

if i sit with her, i'll die. there's no way i can eat properly without choking at least five times in front of her.

without thinking, i shot up from my seat. "no, i'll be out. thank you," i muttered before making a quick escape. i did not look back. i went straight for out the room to find woonhak like my life depended on it.

for months, i avoided her. not in an obvious, rude way, but in a way that would save me from embarrassing myself.

every time i caught a glimpse of her from across the room, my heart started racing. i didn't know how to deal with it, so i did what any emotionally constipated 15-year-old would do: ignore her.

but then i started to notice that she was ignoring me now too. at first, i thought it was a coincidence, but the more time passed, the more obvious it became.

and honestly? it sucked.

had i ruined my chance of even being friends with her? was she annoyed with me? did she hate me now?

it was all my fault.

i kept overthinking it until i finally decided. enough is enough.

i needed to face my fears and actually talk to her. for once, i would initiate the conversation, not her.

so, i took a deep breath and walked up to her desk, where she was sitting with her friends.

thump thump.

i could hear my heartbeat—it was almost deafening.

kim leehan, calm down. this is not the time to back out.

she turned to me, blinking. she didn't say anything, just waited.

this was it. my once-in-a-lifetime chance.

"y/n, i just want to say tha—"

interrupted.

of course. of course, someone had to cut me off right at that moment. nd out of all people, it just had to be ham jinsik.

i took a step back as he effortlessly inserted himself into the conversation.

tall. handsome. confident.

there was a small pang in my chest, and i hated it. i watched as jinsik stood there so easily around y/n, talking to her like it was nothing.

meanwhile, i could barely get a single sentence out without feeling like i was going to collapse. of course.

jinsik was perfect, the perfect match for her.

i turned back to my seat, forcing myself to focus on my classmate behind me, while batting an eye on jinsik's back periodically. but before I knew it, she was standing in front of me again.

"hey," she said.

i froze.

"sorry about earlier. you were saying?"

there it was. that stupid, dumb leehan who turned into an unfunctioning robot around her.

okay, play it cool. don't let her notice.

i gave her the most casual, indifferent expression I could pull.

"…i forgot," i said flatly.

lies.

she paused for a moment, then simply nodded. "okay then."

and just like that, she turned back to her friends. i watched her walk away, my stomach physically feeling sick.

that was it?

we never talked or interacted again after that. i tried so hard to forget about it—to forget her.

but every time she was around, i felt everything all over again.

i thought we'd never cross paths again after 9th grade. but then, i overheard from them that she was going to seoul high school.

and so, like the absolute fool that i am, i shot my shot.

i took the entrance exams. i applied for the same course as her.

art, my biggest enemy.

but despite that, despite all my regrets, my awkwardness, and my absolute inability to function around her. i still got in.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

everything was a blur. one moment, i was a freshman still trying to figure out how lockers worked, and the next, i was a tenth grader, dragging my feet towards my classroom like a sloth that just learned about capitalism.

my brain was running at full speed despite my body moving at half capacity.

"what if we're in the same class?"

"you absolute goober, isn't that what you wanted?"

great. my inner voice was bullying me again.

i shook my head and picked up the pace, trying to act normal. but the moment i reached the door, i caught a glimpse of her.

inside the classroom.

instant panic. i did a full stop, took a step back, and stood behind the doorframe like some poorly written side character who wasn't supposed to be here.

okay, breathe. don't make this weird.

after a good minute of overthinking every possible interaction i could have with her in the next ten months, or 2 years even, i forced myself to straighten my posture and activated my signature move— dumb leehan exterior™. the ultimate defense mechanism. no embarrassing actions shall be performed under its influence.

i stepped in. and of course, she looked at me.

oh, god. oh, god.

do i look back? no. yes? no, okay, fine, i looked back. i knew the risk. my brain was about to explode, but i still did it.

after the long vacation, i'd be lying if i said i didn't miss her presence. so, in a rare moment of bravery, i nodded at her. a simple, casual, nothing-to-read-into nod.

and then, like the genius i am, i walked straight to the farthest seat possible from hers.

…"by god, i am an idiot."

what the hell was that? now she thinks i'm a loser.

i groaned internally but shrugged it off, pulling out a book to distract myself. a fish encyclopedia, of all things. because nothing screams casual high school student like pretending to be deeply invested in the migration patterns of a corydoras (except i'm actually deeply invested to it.)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

12th grade

it was 1 p.m. i had been here since 11 a.m. and had made zero progress on my sculpture. at this point, the only thing i had successfully created was a misshapen lump of clay that looked like it had personally witnessed the fall of rome.

frustrated, i turned to anton, my classmate and the only person who tolerated my nonsense in the class.

"man, how do you even do this?" i whined, aggressively poking my sculpture.

anton took one look and started laughing. "leehan, that thing looks like it's about to build itself and walk away."

i rolled my eyes and flicked his shoulder. "shut up, i'm genuinely stuck here."

anton smirked, crossing his arms. "then why'd you even take this class if you suck at it?"

"dumb, personal reasons," i muttered, waving him off. "whatever, i'll figure it out."

anton just chuckled, pointing toward the door. "alright, goodluck with that. i'm heading out. see ya."

i nodded, barely paying attention as i slumped back down, staring at my sculpture like it had personally offended me. then, somewhere between my frustration and self-pity, a thought hit me.

me and y/n haven't had a real conversation in two years.

we talked, sure—about projects, pair work (which, of course, made me internally combust every time), but a real, genuine conversation? nada.

and now, graduation was near.

i wasn's sure if i'd ever see her again after this. once, i overheard her talking about universities with a classmate. she mentioned busan. and let me tell you, i was devastated.

this was my last chance. i needed to talk to her before it was too late. just once.

but before i could even mentally draft a script, the door swung open. i looked up, and of course— the classic.

it was her.

she walked in, slowed down, and went straight to her station.

okay, okay. this was the moment. no ham jinsik around to ruin it. no distractions. i had to say something. anything.

and then, she spoke first.

"do you need help?"

her voice was softer than i remembered. possibly a trap.

wait—i was supposed to initiate this. but whatever. this was a blessing. i just needed to respond in a cool, interesting way.

"yes, please," i mumbled, immediately fidgeting with my fingers.

yes, please?

what kind of medieval peasant answer was that?

but before i could cringe myself out of existence, she walked over to my table, standing right in front of my disaster of a sculpture. and next to me.

this was bad.

not because she was this close (which, okay, also bad for my heart), but because she could see my embarrassing project up close.

her eyes scanned it. she was going to judge me. i could feel it.

"do you even know basic anatomy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

ouch. but that was fair. "i'm… bad at it,"

she exhaled through her nose, something almost like a laugh "well, lucky for you, i don't suck at it."

and then, just like that, she started molding the clay.

i watched, completely in awe. her hands moved like she actually knew what she was doing. my monstrosity slowly turned into something that actually resembled a human sculpture. a miracle.

i glanced at her hands—long fingers, soft palms, steady movements.

wait, no. do not admire her hands, leehan. abort.

i suppressed a smile. if she caught me grinning like an idiot, i'd never live it down.

minutes passed, and she finished fixing my mess.

"thank you. a lot," i said, and for once, it sounded genuine. not my usual dumb act.

the moment felt still, like everything else faded out. i might've even gotten tinnitus.

then, she dropped the biggest bomb of the year.

"why did you take this class if you're bad at it?"

crap, anton asked the same thing. i should've prepared for this. think of a good lie, leehan. think.

"my mom… she wanted me to take arts." sorry, mom.

she nodded, saying something about not letting anything stop me from doing what i like. and then, just like that, she went back to her station.

the entire afternoon blurred past.

before she left, she handed me an anatomy guide. i barely touched it—just flipped through it while it's laid on the table, so she wouldn’t suspect anything.

but the moment she walked out, i actually opened and lifted it. like a normal person.

and then, something under it slipped out. a portfolio.

i picked it up carefully, not wanting to leave a bit of dent on it. her university portfolio.

i didn't open it. that was hers. so, i just shoved it into my bag.

it was almost 7 p.m. now, and i knew i wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. i sighed and pulled out my phone, calling my brother to bring me dinner.

and as the evening crept in, i sat there, staring at my half-finished project.

i admit it. i was a fool.

i've been a fool.

all the effort y/n and i put into breaking the ice—especially her efforts, was wasted. three years, gone. and for what? because i was too much of a coward?

i wanted to tell her everything.

that i secretly admired her all this time. that i wanted to know her more. that i wanted her sns number, at the very least.

but when i looked up, she was already getting ready to leave.

she walked out with moka and minji, her silhouette disappearing through the exit.

and just like that— that was it. the last time i'd see her.

to be continued...

[lemonmaid]

Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

A/N: Gotchu pookie!! Sorry if this looks rushed, I had a hard time writing this

Warnings: angst, miscommunication, female aligned reader, bodyshaming, self-hatred, mentions of teen pregnancy, everyone is OOC too much for my taste I apologize for that.

Prom.

If there was one thing (Name) hated, it was waiting for a text. It felt vulnerable, and it felt weak or pathetic really.

[You] > Suki

Hey, what's your plans this weekend?

Read 11:56 am

(Name) sighed, scrolling through Instagram, seeing the girls from her class post sneak peaks of their prom dress.

"SISSSSYYYYYYYYY!" (Name) flinched as Yuuji jumped into her lap.

"Yuuji, don't scare me like that!" (Name) sighed as she removed the five year old from her lap.

Yuuji pouted, "You're supposed to be spending time with me!!! Not uncle suki!". He huffed.

Three years ago.

"Ew why does he look like that" Sukuna scowled.

Sukuna let out of a cry of pain as he was hit on the back of the back of the head. "Quiet boy!" Watsuke yelled.

The family was in shambles at the moment. Jin calling Sukuna at 3 a.m. saying that a girl that he met a party a while back, hit him up saying she was in labor, que the family freaking out and lucky for you, since you slept over, you got to see Sukuna's new nephew!!

Don't ask about the custody battle.

"Where is Sukuna anyways? I thought he was supposed to be babysitting you, not leaving me with you".

Yuujis face filled with dread.

"Not that I don't like hanging out with you!!! You're like family to me!!".

Yuuji got off the couch to go to his toybin, "I don't knooowww he said he was going to hang with....Ur-... Urau".

(Name) felt sad, "Uraume?".

"Yeah!! Them!". Yuuji handed (Name) an action figure, "Okay, you, so you can be captain, but I have to be Spiderman!".

"If you're not going to let us see the dress we are leaving".

'Let's go shopping together they said! It will be fun! We'll get boba and lunch!!' (Name) mumbled, then groaned before moving the curtain. "I feel like a pig in a dress, what's the theme again?".

Suguru looked up from his phone, "I'm sure it's like, 'Stary night'.

Satoru came out of the dressing room next to (Name), wearing a dress, "Suguru check it out! I look like a chic!!". Suguru looked at Satoru with disinterest while Satoru laughed like a manic.

The two boys erupted in laughter, Shoko appearing towards (Name)'s side, "ignore those two, you look great".

When (Name) looked at herself in the dress, she could only see her flaws, like how her boob's didn't fit properly or how it didn't hug the right places. "Maybe this isn't the one".

A bang on the wall intrupted (Name) from her thoughts, "Hurrryyyy up!!! Suguru wants go to the arcade!" Satoru whined. (Name) frowned, sighing and taking off the dress .

"Oh my God, yes!!!". Cheers and claps echoed the hallway, another prom proposal accepted. (Name) watched the happy couple celebrate down the hall, "gross right?". (Name) whipped her head around to see Sukuna.

(Name) smiled softly, "I think it's sweet".

Sukuna hummed.

"Unlike a certain someone who dumped me with babysitting duty".

"Tsk." Sukuna grabbed your bag, "AP Chemistry, right?". (Name) nodded before quickly ran behind him.

"Class, please settle down, I understand prom is in a few days, but I need you guys to finish this senior project, which is due next week."

Uraume sat next to (Name), "Did you grab the beakers?"

"Oh no sorry, let me grab them real quick".

"It's fine, I'll grab us some goggles while I'll grab them".

"Okay, thanks Uraume".

It's not that (Name) hated Uraume or disliked them. It was just- maybe envy? Uraume went to the same middle school as Sukuna, while (Name) only went to elementary together. Maybe it was a good thing (Name) didn't go to middle school with Sukuna and Uraume since they both got suspended....

"Hey are you listening?".

(Name) blushed, "oh, sorry, I zoned out"

Uraume nodded, "I was asking if you grab your prom dress yet... you know small talk".

"Oh... not yet, what about you?".

Uraume turned on the bunsen burner, "Well, I'm not going, but Sukuna wants to ditch prom for some frat party close by-".

Static. (Name) suddenly couldn't hear Uraume's monotone voice. Why was she upset? I mean, Sukuna was never the type to go to a dance or school get-together. Why is she upset? Why can't she connect to Sukuna like she used to? Why doesn't she get invited out-

Uraume looked over at (Name), "(Name) are you okay?".

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just so tired".

"So are you going?". Shoko sat on (Name)'s bed watching the girl mope in bed.

"I don't know Shoko... is there a point?".

Shoko sighed, "you know, not going because of one boy is kinda pathetic"

(Name) rolled hed eyes, "Wow, thanks."

"You could go with me. And Suguru-"

(Name) was slient, "I don't even like how I look".

"I do".

(Name) gagged, "Stop it Shoko".

Shoko was quiet for a minute, she walked to (Name)'s window, opening it, then grabbing a ciggerate from her purse,"Listen, we care about you. And it sucks to see you down because of one guy. Don't ruin this experience by not going. "

(Name) bit her lip, clutching the comforter tighter, "I guess...".

Shoko took the ciggerate out of her mouth, flicking it out of the window then going back to lay down next to (Name) on the bed, "There's my favorite girl, let's go last minute shopping with Utahime."

"You don't to dress for anyone! Jesus, pick something that fits you!". Utahime ranted as she went through the clothing rack.

Utahime was literally foaming at the mouth, "No, that color doesn't suit your tone- Definitely not feathered- Shoko!!!! Did you find anything in theme?".

Shoko looked up from her phone, looking at a clothing rack. "Here, you can't go wrong with black-"

"Black is for formals and funerals."

"She could be a black hole."

"Shoko no."

(Name) looked at the black sparkly dress, it was long and looked fitted. "Um, this looks like it hugs".

"That's the point-"

Utahime looked at the dress, "Well, go try it on!"

(Name) was shoved into a dressing room.

'Why am I so nervous? And sweaty, Jesus christ (Name) get it together. "

The dress was beautiful, really, but in (Name)'s mind, all she could see was the flaws. It was like a black oozing leaking from her brain and affecting her body, small things making bigger outcomes.

Shoke helped herself into the dressing room, "SHOKO!".

"What your dressed".

"What if I wasn't?!".

"You look amazing to me".

(Name)'s face went red, "oh hush!".

"I think you should get it"

(Name) looked at herself in the mirror. It was pretty, and it did kinda made feel better about herself.

"Sse you're smiling, that's a good sign!". Shoko wrapped her arms around (Name)'s neck.

Prom night was the worst, (Name) felt like she didn't deserve this or Shoko, she forced herself to get ready and everytime the time got closer, the temptation to just cancel plans got harder.

(Name) looked at herself in the mirror, she looked amazing but felt like shit. (Name)'s phone rang, echoing in the room.

"Hello?"

"Hey are you home?"

(Name)'s heart stopped, "Sukuna?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you call me?".

"...are you home?"

"I mean, yeah, but-"

"Cool, I'm coming in"

"Wait what-".

The line died and the door opened.

"Sukuna! You can't just-".

Sukuna was quiet, "dont call me that please".

(Name) was shocked, and Sukuna was very out of character, "you dyed your hair".

"I did".

The two stood in silence.

"Are... you going to prom?".

(Name) crossed her arms, "No I just like to dress pretty".

"You're beautiful".

Sukuna took a deep breathe, "I don't deserve you. You've been there for me and I haven't been there for you".

"...Suki"

"I'm so selfish, I want you. I don't wanna go to prom and have to share your attention"

"Now Sukuna... you can't have (Name) to yourself all recess.... what if she wants to play with her other friends- "

Sukuna looked at the teacher with a glare, the five year old's face was red, "NO!"

"Now, Sukuna... that's not how we express our anger let's go to the quiet corner for now".

(Name) watched as Sukuna pouted in the corner of the room, walking to him and sitting besides him in silence.

(Name) wrapped her arms around Sukuna, "it felt like you were pushing me away.... I noticed that you were only hanging out with Uraume....I thought you two were dating for a bit".

Sukuna made a gagging noise, "ew no".

"So that's your plan... getting suspended?" Uraume looked up at Sukuna.

"Yep and I want your help".

Uraume shrugged their shoulders, "okay".

(Name) hummed, "what now?"

"Do you wanna go to prom with me?".

"Hmm, I kinda didn't want to go anyways, maybe we can just chill here".

A ringing intrupted the two.

'Crap I forgot about Shoko'.

"Why dont you go, save me a dance?"

(Name) smiled softly, "sure".

Sukuna walked (Name) to Shoko's car, grabbing her hand before she could get in, "I... I like you alot... it's hard to... describe..".

(Name)'s heart fluttered, a smile grew upon her face, "I love you too Suki".

Small snip,

"Unlce Suki!!"

"What brat".

"I wanna be just like you when I grow up".

Sukuna looked at the three year old with distain.

"What makes you think that-"

"We have the same hair color and and the same birth marks-"

Sukuna dyed his hair black that night, causing Jin and their father to try and calm an inconsolable Yuuji.

[luveline]

hi!!! i really love your writing, i was thinking maybe i could request something for the steve zombie! au? maybe the reader and steve get separated (maybe the reader and eddie go outside of camp and don’t come back for a couple of days, so steve thinks something went wrong and maybe someone got to them) but after days they reunite and it all protective steve fluff? idk if you don’t like it it’s fine just ignore me hehe 🫶🏼

sorry this wasn't very angsty but there is fluff! ty for requesting ♡ steve zombie au. fem!reader, 1.4k

You and Eddie lie with an amicable space between you, though you've agreed to share a huge sleeping bag to conserve a modicum of heat. His hair touches your shoulder whenever he moves. 

"Why are you looking at me?" you ask. 

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly. 

"No. I… yeah, I'm okay." 

Eddie never tries anything, doesn't touch you beyond friendly pats on the shoulder or knuckle touches after a job well done. He's never given you any reason to worry, but Steve said he's a guy. He didn't think Eddie was gonna hurt you, but there was a possibility he'd flirt. All I'm saying is that it didn't take long for me to fall in love with you, Steve'd said, his hands in your waistband, tucking in your shirt. 

You laughed. Steve, you didn't like me. 

Well, not out loud. And I was dumb enough to miss how lucky I was for a while. Eddie's not that stupid. He's not gonna try nothing, but… You know, don't fall in love with him. Please.

You'd wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders and had him take your weight, impressed and in love at the subtle strength he used to keep you both standing. Don't worry. I won't. I never would. 

Not with Steve in this world. Even then, if Steve somehow met his demise, you're pretty sure you'd be done with love. 

"Worrying about loverboy?" Eddie asks. 

You're definitely worrying about loverboy. "I told him I'd be back in the morning. It's been a whole extra day. He gets– gets so worried. Honestly, it won't surprise me if he turns up looking for us."

"You've been apart?" 

"Two or three times." You wince, thinking about Steve the last time you'd been separated. How he'd put his hands under your arms and hugged you, even though you couldn't open your eyes. The time before, how he'd cried into your stomach, hands grasping blindly at your back. "I think he worries about me 'cos I'm kind of useless." 

"That's not true. Robin told me all about your psycho takeover." 

"She did?" you ask, covering your face with your hand.

"I wanted to know why she calls you killer." 

"That's pretty much the only time I've defended myself. He always does the hard work."

"If you're really that useless, why'd you come?" He turns on his side away from you. "You're fine. You've learned to fight just like the rest of us. Steve knows you can take care of yourself. He's probably sleeping like a baby waiting for you to bring him back his new jacket." 

You dig for the necklace Steve gave you so long ago under your shirt. You'd thought you lost it, having taken it off before bed the night you escaped the College, but he had it. He gave it back. The little diamond is hard between your fingers. You press it to your lips, wondering if he's really as okay as Eddie claims.

—

Steve lies on his back in the clearing, wishing he was dead. The anxiety is genuinely so bad he's agonised and prone. 

Robin laughed at him for worrying when you didn't show up in the morning as you planned to, but by nightfall she was equally worried. A day later, she sits cross legged by his head, her hand on his arm. She's feigning reading, her bottom lip nibbled raw. 

"You want some chapstick?" he asks. 

"Nah. Stings." 

He sits up feeling like someone's kicked him all over. "The brain is a stupid organ. I'm worried about Y/N, so sure, I get to feel like a jet engine fell on me."

"She's fine." He and Robin have been playing a game where one of them mentions you and the other immediately reassures that you're alive. He quite likes it. It makes it easier to breathe. "You need to chill out, that's all. Eddie had that fucking shotgun. They're not in any danger." 

"What if she fell and broke her leg or something? He's carrying her across the country like a backpack. That should be me." 

"What if he fell and broke his leg? You wanna go give Eddie a lift?" Robin asks, grinning. 

Steve thinks the worst part is that he misses you. He's so worried about you he could throw up (he almost did at breakfast, every mouthful cement thick), but he just hates turning to talk to you and finding empty space. He misses the way you smile, your tentative hand holding, even the way you look at him. He remembers the first time he realised you liked him, how your gaze had slowly gone from annoyed to admiring, how your eyes would catch on his arms or the corner of his mouth. 

He remembers wiping sleep from your eyes, how hot your cheek felt under hand, and the pit it opened in his stomach. It's a strange thing to notice someone's fallen in love with you by themselves. He had catching up to do. It's probably why he feels like he's on death's door whenever you're not around.

"I don't wanna give Munson anything. S'already stealing my girl, smarmy bastard. They ran away to be together."

Robin gasps. He thinks, Well, I was kidding, then, Holy shit they've actually run away together.

"Stevie!" your voice echoes. "Hey! I've been looking all over for you, why are you guys out here?" 

Steve's neck clicks like a Jacob ladder as his head whips up. The fear and anxiety drains from his body, a rapid exsanguination. You look tired but blissfully alive as you jog across the grass clearing, your backpack weighed down and your empty canteens rattling against your thigh. 

Steve trips over grass whorls to get to you. Your little laugh before he grabs you drives him crazy. 

"Where the fuck have you been?" he asks. 

"Got lost. Sorry. Love you," you say, rubbing your cheek against his, your hands bunching up his shirt. You smell like dirt, grass, and tent plastic. It's frankly the best smell in the whole world. He sniffs at you greedily.

"I thought you died," he says. 

"Yeah, I did. Eddie gave me sloppy CPR–" You screech as Steve sweeps your leg from under you and giggle as he holds you up, begging for forgiveness as he threatens to drop you. "Sorry, it was just so easy! You set it up for me!" 

You laugh as he drags a kiss along your jaw, his stubble scramming your softer skin. 

"I love you," he says, "even if you're seeing other boys."

"Never." You close your eyes and wait for a kiss. Steve's more happy that you expect one than he is to give one, which is saying a lot —he wants to kiss you bad enough to feel the phantom of it before he's closed the gap between you. 

He gives you way too many kisses. 

You push your head down into the crook of his neck and hold him tight. "Sorry I didn't come back when I said I would. Didn't scare you too much, did I? 

He was scared shitless. "No, it's alright. It's okay."

He takes your face into his hands and checks you're all in one piece. Same smile. Same dazzled squint when he kisses you. 

You leave his arms too soon for his liking. Robin waits patiently for her own hug, less so when you shed your backpack. She hugs you as it falls to the floor. 

"Miss me?" you ask into her hair. 

"Thought I'd be stuck with mopey Steve forever." Her insult doesn't land, her voice heavy with relief. "You know coming back in the morning doesn't mean any morning, right? Just checking." 

"Sorry, Robin. I missed you." 

"Eddie bad company?" 

"He's nice, he's just not you guys." 

Steve puts a hand on your back, fingers hooked in your belt loop. "Where is he?"

"Playing Peter Pan in the mess tent. I got you guys the best winter jackets ever. Though me and you are sort of matching, Steve." You look at him over your shoulder sheepishly. "Sorry." 

"The horror," he murmurs. 

[stormsthatrage]

Have an angsty KHR AU (Playing fast and loose with flame lore and characterization. Also, I haven't figured out what the 10th Gen Guardians are doing during all this, but whatever it is, it involves So Many miscommunications.)

The AU:

Tsuna doesn't want to be a mafia boss. He hates the violence, he hates the danger, he hates knowing that if he messes up, it can get people killed.

But no one really listens to him. Not even Reborn, who just sees Tsuna's whole "I don't want to be a mafia boss" thing as a sort of juvenile rebellion phase.

(But it's not. Every time one of Tsuna's people comes home hurt, every time Tsuna has to inflict harm on the battlefield, every time Tsuna is exposed to the casual cruelty of the underworld, it damages something inside of him. It scars his soul. He hates it. He does not want to be a mafia boss.)

And then Timoteo's health declines. (These next two paragraphs were heavily inspired by Break These Chains on Me by Luki on AO3.) Tsuna, knowing his time is running out and absolutely desperate, tries to make plans to get tf out. Maybe he signs up for civilian university. Maybe he makes plans to travel. Maybe he tries to create a fake identity to just run. And Tsuna, who has learned to rely on and trust Reborn -- after everything, how could he not -- confides in him about these plans.

And Reborn -- who has never really understood why Tsuna hates the mafia -- thinks this is one last (highly irritating) attempt at a teenage rebellion. It's not entirely unexpected, what with the weight of being Don Vongola looming over Tsuna's shoulders. And so, in a true Disappointed Reborn fashion, he responds with a harsh but effective lesson. He plays along with Tsuna's escape plans for a bit, and then. And then. It's the day Tsuna plans to vanish, and Reborn sits Tsuna down at the table, with Xanxus and Timoteo, and tells Tsuna if he doesn't fall in line Bad Things are gonna happen to his people.

(Reborn does not intend this to be an actual threat. It's supposed to be a slap on the wrist. A sort of, "Yeah, you're a teenager, but you need to start conducting yourself more seriously, knock it off before I actually get mad." Sure, Vongola is threatening to kidnap Tsuna's mom, but the kidnappers are just going to take her out for tea and cake and a spa night, and when Tsuna shows up to rescue her she'll be fine. The real punishment will be the physical path to go get her -- Reborn has an Embarrassing Obstacle Course TM planned.

And so on, for all of Tsuna's precious ones.

Reborn does not consider that Tsuna might actually believe the severity of the threats. After all they've been through, after all they've done for each other, Reborn knows Tsuna would never believe that Reborn could actually hurt Tsuna's people.)

But Tsuna. Well, Tsuna's on a different page. This life is killing him, slowly, and when Reborn tells him that he never intended to help Tsuna escape, it hits Tsuna like a full-on betrayal. And while mere minutes before, Tsuna knew that Reborn would never even dream of harming Tsuna's people, Tsuna no longer can trust this. Tsuna fully and absolutely believes that Reborn's threats are real, and that there will be permanent consequences if he doesn't comply.

It gets worse.

Tsuna thought Reborn actually cared about him. Reborn had, slowly but inevitably, become something like a father to Tsuna. But in that moment, Tsuna realizes that he actually was just a job all along.

And Xanxus. Tsuna also thought Xanxus cared about him. He thought they had come to an understanding. He thought they were starting to become brothers, of a sort -- bonded by battle and trauma and shared responsibilities, by nights complaining to each other over dinner or over the phone. And as Tsuna sits across from them, hearing his people threatened and knowing he is, in fact, going to be forced to Italy, he comes to believe that none of that new brotherhood was real.

And Tsuna realizes he has no choice. He never had a choice. He will end up in Italy, as Don Vongola, no matter how much it is going to kill him inside.

And worse: the people he has come to love clearly do not love him back. If they did, they would not be doing this to him. And sitting at that kitchen table, seeing the disappointment in Reborn and Xanxus' eyes, he knows that he is never going to be enough.

But he knows, he knows, that he isn't going to survive Italy without having them in his life supporting him. Because even if they don't love him, he does, truly, love them.

And he comes to the conclusion that if he remains as he is -- weak, useless Tsuna -- not only will he inevitably lose them, but he just flat out won't survive the life stretching out (long, so long, and so so desolate) before him.

So he uses his flames.

He images the mafia boss that they want him to be (as he perceives it). He thinks about all the characteristics they must want him to have, all the things they expect him to want, and he conjures an image of this better Tsuna in his mind. And then he harmonizes with it, becomes one with this false image of himself.

But it doesn't work, not all the way. There are still bits of him, the original, weak, disappointing Tsuna left. He can feel it, in the dread at the thought of the life before him. In the shocked-hurt he feels at this betrayal. In the agony of knowing that they don't care about him, they never cared about him, they only care about his title.

So he puts those bits of himself in ice.

And suddenly, the years ahead don't seem so bad. Suddenly, the betrayal seems reasonable -- after all, wasn't he acting so silly, so juvenile, trying to escape like that. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that they don't love him back -- of course they don't, why would they love him? -- all that matters is he loves them. As long as he keeps himself in check, and matches their expectations, nothing is wrong.

Tsuna looks at them, sitting across the table, and complies with their demands.

Reborn does, for a moment, think that it happens a bit too easily. There's none of the usual screeching, no dragging of the heels, no protests. Right then, Reborn fully expects it to boil over at some point in the future. (He thinks, maybe, that Tsuna is playing along now, but will have a teenagery-protest again as it gets closer to the time they leave for Italy.)

(It never happens.)

Reborn thinks, merely, that Tsuna has put on the mantle of maturity. It's a little ahead of schedule of what he was expecting, but then again, Tsuna has always exceeded expectations.

Time passes. Timoteo's health declines. He dies. Tsuna goes to Italy, and becomes a mafia boss.

(It's a golden age. Tsuna is just as compassionate and selfless and determined as Reborn always knew he would be. There is a peace, unlike anything the underworld has ever seen, because of his rule.

This peace is a result of the core of Tsuna peeking out. It always would have happened.)

It's five years into Tsuna's reign before people begin to realize that something is really, really wrong with Tsuna.

They do figure it out, eventually. And when they do, when they realize what happened and what caused it, it breaks them, just as much as they broke Tsuna all those years ago.

[numberonetacostan]

Tacomic is a bit of a double edged sword, atleast for me personally.

On one hand they're my favourite ship in basically all of II but at the same time they are very angsty and I get very emotional (they have made me feel physically sick genuinely) even in the most fics about them there's angst I don't know how I keep getting into angsty ships.

Some episodes of II are honestly kind of hard to rewatch even though it's currently my hyperfixation just because of emotions.

With that I want to put more focus on fluff for Tacomic (in this ask) since as much as the angst is well written I want to be able to actually call something a comfort without being sadder from it then I was before.

I want to add fluff of my own and not just ask if you have them but at the same time most of mine are in either the little post canon I made in my head where Suitcase spent the majority of the million on therapy or an au with significantly different events to canon.

I could say that they probably got better at communicating post canon (not perfect because it's Tacomic they need some time) but better mainly with how badly it got messed up in hatching the plan (with Taco still being stuck on the idea Mic wanted recognition and not really anything else and such)

(I hope this makes sense but I made this after a fankid au made me sad and decided to ask about fluff after that)

-🦭

Hi Seal!!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for your submission!! :]

They are very angsty, and I'm sorry to hear that makes it difficult for you to indulge in tacomic content. I hear you with some episodes being tough!! I struggle with second hand embarrassment from media, yeah? So the first part of the season 3 finale can be tough for me lol. I always have to skip Balloon's first finalist speech despite how much I love him.

Honestly? I think Suitcase would dedicate at least some of her victory money to therapy. They all need it and Suitcase would probably be willing to provide the funds for anyone who wants it to get that help.

But anyways!! Ask and you shall receive, tacomic fluff headcanons!

Speaking of fluff, I think Taco's lettuce end up all floofy, messy, and puffed up after she sleeps in a bed. The fabric of the pillowcase and blanket just make her lettuce all messy!! She'd, of course, make sure to fix it up before she leaves their room. This does not stop Mic from taking pictures of a very fluffy Taco while she's still asleep. She has an entire album on her phone dedicated to sleepy Taco pictures.

Taco will hold things for Mic in her shell!! The space inside her shell is fully off limits to everyone else, but if Mic needs something stored for her, Taco will pretend to do it reluctantly. She'd be rather happy to do it, really, and Mic can tell. Although, Mic would not be allowed to reach inside Taco's shell, because that would be rather uncomfortable for her I think, but Mic would respect that boundary and thus Taco would be happy to carry things for her.

I think Taco and Mic sometimes still have conversations from a distance!! If Mic is at the mansion and Taco is out in the woods, Mic will turn her volume and gain up and just... yell out to Taco. Who will yell back so Mic can pick up her voice. And they can chat for a bit until someone requests that Mic stop shouting, since it's so loud.

I believe it would be quite funny if Mic got distracted while she and Taco were holding hands, and quickly raised both her arms. Taco is quite short of course, so this would entire lift Taco up into the air, or just. Remove her arm. I have my little headcanon about Taco's arms being detachable like her toppings, and I do think it would be quite funny if that was the first time anyone saw one of Taco's arms detach. There would be quite a panic until Taco puts her arm back in like nothing happened.

Mic is very gentle with Taco! Her shell is fragile, yeah? So feather-light kisses, the smallest slightest squeezes when they hug!! In exchange, eventually, Taco squeezes Mic as hard as she can when they hug. I think Mic would enjoy it!!^^

Hopefully these will suffice!!! :)

[evienyx]

Hello! I adore your Concord fic so so much, to the point that it's actually now my favorite Sonic fic. Your characterization for Shadow is fantastic and I'm right there with you in thinking that movie Shadow wouldn't hide how much he likes Sonic or be mean to him, not after how much they bonded on the moon and during the fight afterward. Actually, your characterization for everyone is very on point, and Sonic is an absolute delight. I'm so sad that he and Maria never got to be friends for real, because Shadow (and you) is 100% right that they'd get along like a house on fire lol

Anyway, there's a song that I think fits Shadow and Sonic in Concord perfectly, and I wanted to share it with you! It's called "Stargazing" by Myles Smith, and I think it's especially fitting for this latest two chapters. :3

Also, I don't know much about the Superbowl, but I'm told that they do a lot of cool stuff during it other than just the game and that people have parties and stuff when they watch it, so I hope you had a fun time!

One of the most important things for this fic for me was making sure that the characterization for Shadow was Movie Shadow and not Games Shadow.

Now, of course, Movie Shadow is an adaptation of Game Shadow, there are a lot of similarities. However, his backstory is different, and more importantly his dynamic with Sonic is different. If we're being totally honest, in the movies at least, they don't even have the rivalry thing going on (yet at least). They were legit just straight-up enemies (reluctantly on Sonic's side until Shadow almost killed Tom and Sonic decided to lock in) until the conversation on the Moon, and from there they are (oddly in-sync) allies.

This is not to say I love Movie Shadow more than Game Shadow, I love the both of them for different reasons. Nor do I love Movie Sonadow more than Game Sonadow. They're both wonderful, and both have so much potential. It is very different potential from one another. Game Sonic would have to work double time to get that conversation out of Game Shadow compared to Movie Sonic who had it in all of two seconds. This is fine, and lovely to explore on its own, but it is important to me to acknowledge the difference and write these stories with the difference in mind.

I do plan on writing more fics for them, because oh lord this ship is so fun, and there are so many things that can be done with them. Obviously we've already got the more angsty fic that I'm planning for after Concord finishes (I'll release the first chapter on the same day as the last chapter of Concord), but even more than that I've got a few too many ideas sitting on a doc. I've got ideas for the movies, for the games, and even ones for complete AU fics that would probably use a blend of their personalities from both. I'm mentally ill.

Anyway, holy mother of god are you right about that song fitting them. It's actually kinda ridiculous, and makes me wish that I could draw at all because there is nothing I want more now than an animatic of the two of them with that song for this fic. I'm gonna be sick, thank you.

And, uh, yeah, the Superbowl has got kinda three big parts to it: Game, Half-Time, Commercials. The Game is the big final NFL American football game for the season to see who's the best team. It's the last game in the playoffs. Half-Time is when they have a super famous musical artist do a fifteen-ish minute show during the break that comes after the first half of the game. The Commercials are whatever ads play when you're watching at home, and they used to be really good, big productions with like storylines and stuff, but this year they weren't all very good, and I suspect it might be the use of A.I. but you didn't hear that from me.

I'm not a fan of either of the teams that were in the Superbowl this year (the Philadelphia Eagles and the Kansas City Chiefs), but I only vaguely dislike the Eagles and I really hate the Chiefs, so I was perfectly happy to see the Eagles win. Any love toward them is gone now that the game is over, though, and I am back to solely wanting to see my own team win.

[flymetosnarryland]

My Snarry WIPs' list.

I would like to share something. My Snarry WIPs' list, yup. Why? I always felt weird writing about myself and stuff I do, but I'm processing changes and thought I can share not only art, lol.

How many project are you working on? I'll dive into couple of mine:

Date with a Star - a Post-War romantic comedy. Harry is in love with Severus, Severus secretly loves Harry. Both are too scared to say what they feel to not lose their friendship. A friend in need asks Harry for help and this is where the wild ride with dumb dating TV-show starts. Especially because Harry don't know that the same friend-in-need blackmailed Severus to get him into the same show too. This is actually a second Snarry fic I ever started to write, inspired by dating TV-show from 1992. I remember that when the idea for this one hit me, I was laughing for a good hour (that TV-show was absolutely ridiculous). And I still feel a pinch of positive embarrassment when think about what's going on there. In fact this story made me want to learn how to translate my wiritngs into English. It's half written and translated too. I really have to finish second part.

Infraction - my first monster fic. My baby. Crime (serial killer), slow burn, Muggle AU featuring Marauders and Death Eaters, political sheananigans and Severus' old flame. I have entire story written out from beginning to the end. What's more... with an ending that allows me to dive into second book (I'm excited lika a child) including the initial idea for it, ahh. Every time I think about Infraction, I feel butterflies in my stomach and a tear comes to my eye, damn. However, the entire project requires a huge amount of work. And a few modifications that I finally have to do to complete the first stage. It's not simple, though. I regret a bit that I released the cover, prologue and first chapter. I was prematurely carried away by the joy of creation, but that's okay. Going to fix it all in time.

In the Moonlight - working title. Something I planned to write for last year's Snarry AUctoberfest, but the beast got bigger, lol. Crime (kidnapping), Muggle AU - my great weakness and, most importantly, inspired by the movie Bodyguard (the one with Whitney Huston). Much like Infraction, this fic is fully planned and scripted. I can't believe I managed to do it. I wrote 1/4 of the whole thing and even have the lyrics of original song that Harry dedicates to Severus, although I don't know anything about music at all (an elephant stepped on my ear).

In between - a drawing series. Harry and Severus in a cute/fluff version. Post-War and happy life, because that's what they deserve!

First time - Drama/Romance, Muggle AU (gosh, yeah, again!). This is a project I want to do 50/50 as a fic/comic. A few works and dirty sketches have already landed here. I have a little dream of writing something that includes e-mails/text messages. In general, a romance that started online. Aren't Harry and Severus purfect for this? (Plus doing art in colour for this project was a test I wanted to start before 3B.)

3B - a Vampire fic, yessss. Can you believe that once I said, I'll never ever write or do anything connected to vampires? Hehe, now I'm in the middle of it, fully commited and over the moon. A bit dark/angsty story with a bonus: illustrations. Crime (more like, cri-me a river, lol; I mean, again? Yup xD), Post-War, a few intrigues, even a SnarryWedding o_0 gosh. That is another thing I said: "No, that's not going to happen." I guess, I fell on my head since now I do everything I promised to myself not to. But it's fun. And bloody, mhaha. I also created my own Vampire Villains and I kinda fell in love with them. Going to sneak into this fic a bit of blood magic mechanics that I created for my fantasy book, too. The picture at the top is one version of the cover sketches ɷ◡ɷ

Adrenaline - working title. Post-War/Drama/Romance and slow burn, a bit of Hogwarts, a bit of Quidditch and for a change Severus will have to show that he wants something more. I mean, I always writing/thinking about Harry chasing Severus. So here the dynamic will change a little. Can't wait for it! The idea for this one was accidentaly born last week and I can't stop it anymore. The inspiration comes from the cover art for Witch Weekly that I did, lol. I had no idea that at the stage of brainstorming, it would turn into another monster. It supposed to be a short story, but, apparently, I'm not good at short stories and it's time to come to terms with it xD I won't cry either because I like Harry and Severus pairing up in different ways/AU's, hehe. And most importantly - creating all these things, even if they don't fully see the world outside my drawer, still gives me great joy!

[goodnightmoonvale]

Fanfics I'll Probably Never Finish, Part 1

Guess it's "post about my WIPs" hours with a healthy dose of "playlist", so I'm starting with the first fandom I wrote for:

Check, Please!

First up: not a lot of solid ideas here, but I always thought No Light, No Light by Florence + the Machine is a really great Jack/Kent song. I mean, come on. "You are the hole in my head, you are the space in my bed, you are the silence between what I thought and what I said" "No light, no light in your bright blue eyes" "You can't choose what stays and what fades away" "I'd do anything to make you stay" "Through the crowds I was crying out, and in your place there were a thousand other faces". Good angsty song to listen to while pondering Jack/Kent

The rest of these are all Nursey/Dex stories and bits, bc they're my OTP :)

First up was a Gamestop/Suit Store Mall AU. Nursey works at the game store for Shitty & Lardo, and Dex works at the suit store for Jack and Bitty.

"Looks like that new suit store finally opened up," Nursey said, straightening the cardboard display for the new Call of Duty. The initial horde of release-day diehards had died down, but it was still by far the most popular thing in the store right now, and the displays were always a mess. "Yeah. You think they'll let us use their bathrooms like the Forever 21 did?" Shitty asked, setting down the box he was carrying and deftly slicing the tape with his box cutter. "I dunno man. Somehow I get the feeling that the suit store isn't going to want us slumming around their fancy-ass store." "What ever do you mean, brah?" Shitty said with a grin, spreading his hand out to the side as if to show off his outfit. He was wearing raggedy faded jeans that were just this side of actually wearing through, some grubby canvas boat shoes with no socks, and an original Halo t-shirt that was starting to get little holes around the edges. Nursey rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying I wouldn't want access to a closer bathroom. I'm just saying we're going to need a better plan then just march over there.'" "Yeah, I see what you mean," Shitty said. "Those suits are pretty intimidating."

Second up is a Selkie AU, with Nursey as a beautiful ocean creature and Dex as a grumpy Irish fisherman

"So, do you want me to hide your skin then? Do you want to stay here longer?" Derek looks at him, struck. "Why, don't you want me to?" "No, I do, I do! But I was trying to figure out if you were bringing this up because you need to ask me to hide your skin, or if this was your way of letting me down gently." "Oh god, no, Dex, of course I want to stay with you!" Derek said, looking up at Dex with those stunning brown eyes of his that Dex could get lost in every time. Dex felt  his heart unclench, and the corners of his mouth twitched up into a small smile. "Then of course I can hide your skin for you." He sat down on the couch next to Derek and put a hand on Derek's thigh to still the bouncing leg. "You . . . this will . . . you are always welcome here," Dex said, having trouble getting the words out. "Whether you stay or,"  Dex swallowed around the lump in his throat, keeping his eyes steadily averted, "or even if you have to leave. If you come back, you're welcome here."  When Dex snuck a quick glance, Derek's eyes were shining with unshed tears. Derek raised a gentle hand to Dex's cheek and kissed him so gently, so tenderly, that Dex's heart felt like it was going to burst. "I'll always come back," Derek said. "I promise."

One is a fic based on the song P.T.L. by Reliant K, because the first verse especially sounded completely like Nursey trying to be super confident and hit on someone, and of course Dex would scoff at him about it. In this AU, Dex is on the hockey team but Nursey isn't. They meet at a kegster. Nursey hits on Dex by smirking and saying he'll be "the best you've ever had". They have a one-night stand. Dex doesn't assume it's more than that because he figures Nursey is a hot asshole who doesn't care. Nursey ends up actually falling for Dex, but by that point Dex has moved on and is with someone else, and Nursey just pines and pines and pines.

Jocks may be obnoxious but goddamn if they didn't make good eye candy. Surprisingly, his eyes caught not on someone moving out in the sea of bodies, but on a shock of orange red hair slumped against the wall, nursing a solo cup of something just like Derek was. The guy had a slight scowl on his face, whether because he didn't want to be here or from the taste of the alcohol, Derek couldn't tell. Damn but he looked good though, all carpenter chic in a soft-looking flannel with a tight black tank underneath. Derek did always have a thing for redheads. Derek worked around the edge of the room, squeezing around beer pong players, dancers, conversationalists, and yes, those making out drunkenly on every available surface, until he'd managed to slide up next to Scowlface McHotman. Derek leaned one arm against the wall in an absolute perfect parody of casual and took a slow swig of his beer. "You don't look like you're having much fun," he said. Scowlface McHotman looked up at him and squinted his eyebrows even further together. "What's it to you?" "I just hate to see someone as good-looking as you having a bad time," Derek said.  Scowlface McHotman scoffed. "And what, you're offering to show me a good one?" Derek smirked his winning smirk, the one that he knew usually made people of all genders weak at the knees. "Absolutely. The best time you've ever had, in fact." Scowlface McHotman scoffed again. "Are you serious?" he asked. "Like a heart attack," Derek said, winking. When this only made Scowlface McHotman scowl further, Derek dropped the swagger down several notches and smiled disarmingly. "Only a little," he amended. "But you do look like you want to get out of here and I certainly wouldn't mind leaving with you."

I also had vague ideas for a NurseyDex Dredge AU, which, if you don't know what that is, is an existential horror fishing game. Which, (spoilers) is a game where one lover used to be a fisherman, swallowed by the sea and drowned. One lover, consumed with the search for his lover, becomes a fisherman, dredging the depths of the sea for strange treasures that will return his lost love to him.

I never got very far with this AU. I waffled back and forth between who is the drowned and who is left behind. On the one hand, you have Dex, always the fisherman, most likely to be the first to go. Nursey the new fisherman, learning to use the boat if it kills him, marveling at how Dex did it, exhausted and cold. On the other hand. Nursey. Lovely, new to boating, excited and romantic. Nursey, who makes friends with everyone. Dex, grim and grumpy afterwards. Closed off. Grimly enduring.

Like I said. I didn't get very far. But it definitely captivated me.

And saving the best for last, an AU based entirely on the entire album Stick Season by Noah Kahan. This is the one I actually do want to finish if I ever manage to work my way back into writing shape again - I posted about it on here forever ago and @abeansblog volunteered to help me write it and we actually got a decent amount of the way through it, but we kind of lost steam (I kind of descended into a fog for a while) and now it's been a couple years but I think there's definitely something there still

Anyhow. It's about what if Nursey and Dex finally got together senior year of college, and they have all these plans about moving to New York together, but Dex's grandmother gets sick and ends up going back to Maine to take care of her at the end of her life (Homesick) and it ends up leaving him & Nursey long distance (She Calls Me Back). And it just doesn't manage to work out, with the distance and the grief and the weight of everything (Your Needs, My Needs). So they go through their lives and try to pick up the pieces and move on, but neither of them can ever forget the other. (Halloween, Stick Season)

And then somehow, maybe at a Samwell hockey team 10 year reunion, they run into each other again. They reconnect. They're both in completely different places in their lives. They've been to a lot of therapy (Growing Sideways). And finally the love blooms again, and it's better this time, and it ends up really soft and happy (Everywhere, Everything)

[dreamwritesimagines]

A younger reader and pre-x men Logan would be such a sexy, angsty disaster.

She knows exactly what kind of life she wants, Logan barely knows who he is; she would ramble at him as a way of flirting and he would try to be mean to her to get her to stay away only to immediately apologize and fall in love with her in 3 seconds flat.

(The fact that Logan is a softy gets buried under all the bad boy Logan fic writers and i can't stand it- HE'S AN OLD MAN, HE'S BEEN SAD AND LONELY FOR THE PAST TWO CENTURIES. NEARLY HIS WHOLE ARC IS ABOUT HIM FINDING PEOPLE HE WANTS TO TAKE CARE OF. HE WANTS TO BELONG SOMEWHERE, WAKE UP PEOPLE)

And who needs someone more than Sunshine? Who would be more willing to provide everything for her but Logan? The frat boys never stood a chance.

The sex would be amazing, the chemistry off the charts- the angst and miscommunication would leave you sobbing.

She has interests, hobbies and dreams- Logan just has her.

They could never be healthy at that stage, Jamie is right to be concerned and call them co dependent but omfg i would read a whole series on this au

I AM STARING AT THE SCREEN, YOU ARE A GENIUS OMG-

Honeeeey!? 😍

I totally agree, like, Logan would come off as mean first because he'd know just how different they are and how he's "not good for her" so he'd be trying to keep his distance but would end up falling for her❤️

He wants to beloooong❤️

She has interests, hobbies and dreams- Logan just has her. EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRY-

Oh yeah, I don't think their relationship would be healthy at that stage either 😱 All the alarms would be ringing in Jamie's head and he'd try to talk some sense into Sunshine but it would do nothing at all😱

I absolutely love thiiiis, thank you so much love! ❤️ And I'm so inspired about this au so let's have a HC! ❤️

I totally agree with you, it would be such a sexy angsty disaster😏

He had a truck camper thing pre X Men, didn't he? He was basically living there, not caring or planning about having a home while Sunshine was definitely the opposite of that, she had all her future planned, even her future home❤️

I feel like she tried to be at the bar for his every fight, and after one of them he'd go to her and be like,

"Hi sweetheart."

"Hi! Are you okay?"

"Mm hm."

"That guy punched you really hard."

"Nah it wasn't that hard. What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have a final tomorrow."

"Aw Logan, you remembered!"

"Of course I did, so what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for moral support!"

"When was the last time you slept?"

"That's irrelevant information to our conversation right now- look what I got you."

"...A candle?"

"Yeah! I figured you could put it in your trailer, it'd look nice there!"

[tblsomedoodles]

I

C R A V E

more Donnie VS The World content. It makes me vibrate and scream and wiggle like I'm off my meds. I would love anything, even a solid block of text, but your doodles/full artworks/comics are my favorite.

Please? All I've found so far is what we see in the donnieverse comic and the MVA/AMV (music video animatic/animatic music video). So many questions, like - is Casey (Sr) involved in any way, whethercas a fellow captive or rescue mission teammate? Is this the True Apocalypse or Averted Apocalypse timeline? If the latter, where is Casey (Jr)? How is Splinter handling it? (Is he even still alive to be Having Emotions About It?)

(Please feed me.

B L E A S E)

(If you don't mind, could you show/tell how Donnie escapes, one of his first Big Leads that gives him so much hope he cries, and/or the Big Reunion? One would be nice, two would be great, and all three would be amazing. If they aren't planned/are too spoilery, that's okay. Anything you can/are willing to give would be lovely.)

Thank you!! I'm glad you like it : ) I don't think I've answered many asked about this particular au, so i'm more than willing to talk about it! : )

I don't really have much up for it, mostly b/c it deals with a lot of angsty material that i can be a little uneasy about posting. I have a bit of old concept art, and an unposted fic i'm editing/rewriting (b/c it's the first fic i wrote for Rise and i did not have those character voices down lol.) I can probably post the first bits of it later this week. I did say at one point that i would once 'proud family tradition' was over, and it now is.

but yeah, here's the concept art, i'll put the explanation under the break b/c i'm going to be rambling lol.

So Donnie vs. takes place after the thwarted apocalypse (not-apocalypse future). They get taken by Bishop a few months afterwards, and it isn't until about a year after that, that Donnie gets free.

He's the last one still with Bishop at that point, and had been told/convinced through various means that his brothers were dead.

Bishop did a lot of experiments on him, leaving a lot of scaring. One of which was injecting him with Krang DNA to see what would happen. (the eye and veins thing. I think he has some side effects from that but i'm not entirely certain what they are atm)

The fic itself starts after his rescue, b/c i'm focusing on Donnie's search for his brothers (and his own recovery) Rather than the traumatic event itself.

The rescue itself, was certainly a rescue. April, Casey, and CJ worked together to get him out of there as well as gain whatever information they could before they were found out. (Casey went undercover and was able to get some incomplete files and help get donnie out before she was discovered and had to leave.)

donnies in...pretty bad shape at that point, mentally and physically. Physically, he's malnurished, injured, scared, the works. Bishop did a number on him in the year he had him.

Mentally, he's pretty much shut down. He's completely non-verbal, unresponsive most of the time, when he does respond it's very slow and seemingly difficult for him to do so. He describes it that it feels like he's behind several plates of thick glass. He can see and hear what's happening, interacting (or even just feeling anything about it) is very hard to get past the glass.

How he goes from that state to hunting down his brothers is fairly simple. One of the broken, encripted files Casey acquired was Leo's file. None of the three could open it, but they managed to get Donnie to try to do so. He manages it, sees the file, and for the first time in about a year, has hope. He doesn't even wait to show the other three, he just takes off while no one was looking, with April's laptop and CJ's coat (he steals a backpack along the way.)

I don't really want to say much past that. A lot of the rescues/reunions are pretty spoiler heavy, and i don't want to ruin some of the mystery of what's going on in the fic. But know this, he does get all his brothers (and family in general) back. Also, splinter is alive and is part of this, but again, that's spoilers for some things i don't want to ruin.

Again, i'll probably start posting this sometime this week. It's an interesting fic that i've put quite a bit of time into at this point, so i'll be excited to see what is thought of it.

Thank you!

[viridian-house]

Do you have any favorite naruto fics you’d recommend? Any pairing, complete or not, on-hiatus, gen, oneshots, anything is fine lol

I was legitimately just pruning my bookmarks the other day!! thank you so much for asking.

I don't read too much fanfic these days, and I'm picky when I do--only about grammar/punctuation and immersion though. I ship a LOT of stuff (I guess The Youth would call me a proshipper) and although I never read darkfic, I don't shy away from weirder kinks and unhealthy relationship stuff.

categorizing by pairing, if applicable. some of them are smutty, and please note that the first 3 come from FFN which doesn't have a tagging system, but there is some SA CW I'll give in advance.

KAKASAKU | my first OTP! formative fics that totally reshaped my understanding of what fanfiction could be, and how well-written chemistry can make it or break it

HOUSE OF CROWS is the quintessential kakasaku fanfic. it was written during shippuden and so is canon divergent because of that, but also tells a comprehensive story of its own right that is intriguing and well planned. excellent characterization and world building. leaves me gutted in the best way on my yearly reread.

DUTY BEFORE HONOR is another silvershine classic. I don't reread is as often as House of Crows but they are just about equal in quality. again, the chemistry between them is off the charts, and the world feels so alive.

WILL OF FIRE for me is up there with House of Crows in being essential kakasaku reading. cynchick is a multisaku champion and a wonderful storyteller. the stakes in this one are stressful, the romance tense and believable, and we once again get lovely world building and great chemistry.

ITAKISA | a pairing near and dear to me, because men who do everything wrong are so deeply relatable. they both know they don't deserve anything good ever again but they found each other!!!! ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS--

A SHARK HIDDEN INN THE LEAVES doesn't have my favorite version of Kisame, but he's plenty close enough. it's a lengthy oneshot that got me into certain *ahem* kinks. it is a very fun and wild fic that is entirely self-aware of how absurd it's being, and manages to have nothing but sincerity at the same time (and I highly recommend the author's other stories as well)

AN ORCHESTRA PLAYING ON, INSANE is a modern AU (extremely rare in my bookmarks) that absolutely tore my heart out. god is it SO much to ask for these losers to be happy?! yes, it is, and I love every moment of it

MADAMITO | a rarepair I am SUCH a sucker for that has some of the most talented authors writing for it. lots of them have ot3 elements between them and hashirama, often angsty, but stuff like that is part of the appeal for me, lol

A HANDFUL OF SKY is an unfinished fic that I genuinely think about like once a week. if it ever updates then I will be over the moon. technically hashimadamito but it hadn't quite gotten there yet

LIKE ALTARS is just such a beautiful piece of writing, mostly on madara. it is everything, that is all

BLOOD AND RIVER WATER is more mito-centric but has one of my favorite madaras of all time

YOURS ARE RATTLED BONES is another short, mito-centric but gut-wrenching piece featuring the opposite type of madara from the last one

OTHER | character-centric stuff that isn't necessarily shippy but also doesn't have a very "gen" vibe either?

A SERPENT IN THE RICE is a little series about orochimaru that makes me feel so so so many things. highly recommended

HERETIC is such a love letter to kushina, and kurama too. cannot stress enough how much I adore this one

there's a few others that I probably won't link on tumblr, mostly unhealthy and/or "problematic" smut hhfhdj but maybe I'll make a public rec list on ao3 for these different categories and stuff like that.

but yeah that's pretty much it!!! I know it's not a huge list with a lot of variety but it's what I've enjoyed over the last 15+ years in the naruto fandom.

[lady-yeehaw]

Summary of my WIPS

I need to stop cooking up WIP Ideas, currently, I have summaries/vague plans for the following:

FushiKugi god/goddess AU (Death god and Love goddess-- with a twist because she becomes the goddess of destruction after a war happens in the mortal realm. Fushiguro tries to make her a love goddess again to prevent Sukuna's (king of the underworld's) plans to destroy humanity.

10 years later after the main story FushiKugi reunion (but something is amiss, Nobara takes on some shady work that is catching up to her. Itadori and Fushiguro have to step in to help after something happens)

Potential SatoShoko post-duchess prequel (because I keep thinking about how they got together in DGASC and I think it would be fun to write after DGASC is done).

SatoShoko AU where Satoru is an artist and meets an exhausted doctor who thinks that art is stupid/frivolous-- oh and he wants her to be his muse for his latest project.

SatoShokoSugu teen rehab au-- unsure of what ship I'm going with there but yeah, wrote some of it and initially drafted it to be SatoSugu hurt comfort without hurt.

Angsty AF Fushikugi pregfic based on another fic I read that I work on from time to time. Planning to tag the other author if I post it and give them credit for the idea as they've published something similar first.

But these are projects for after When You're Smiling and Astride me and Duchess! I don't want anyone to think I'm abandoning those fics!

[leonawriter]

Just wanted to say thank you for the new Ayin fanfics you wrote. I give them both a 10/10, would definitely recommend and read again. They are both really lovely and angsty at the same time, especially when you see it through the lens of an Ayin who was also Dante. Dante who had a lot of self-doubt, had moments of off-handedly dehumanizing themselves, and had such a strong desire for companionship with the Sinners who were strangers mere months ago that it makes you wonder how much stronger Ayin's own desire was when it came to the people he knew and cared (loved really) for months if not years to being them back for the Script saying he could not do it without them.

Thank you, that really means a lot to me!

And yes, yes!! Yes to all of these things. Zayin's experiences as both "Ayin, in the loops and before" and "Dante" as well as "Ayin, after being Dante" are all so intrinsically linked that they all make up parts of who he is. (Which also means there's aspects of Dante's nonbinary-ness in there, too!)

When you say about how strong Dante/Ayin's desire for companionship was, you remind me of how Ayin in the flashbacks has a couple of lines that go into how he feels about them a bit. One is this one scene where it shows how once he'd reached the status of a Wing, he had no one to celebrate with - he clearly wanted to. The picture that goes with it is so very much conveying his loneliness and isolation, too.

"Empty chairs at empty tables" is literal and goes hard, here! He also says about losing Benjamin "It was a tragedy, but I didn't hide it."

But there's also this one line... can I find it, haha- yes!

Day 50, and his most "full" shadow self says "My friends were robbed of their lives and trapped in this cycle of agony..."

And over and over again, so much of what we see of him is a person who, in spite of his massive issues with communicating how he feels to others, loves so deeply. He CARES.

He gets called a weak little chick with a thin skin. He can't handle seeing the death and destruction the Abnormalities cause, let alone the Abnormalities themselves. He trapped himself in hell with them, without any luxuries or the ability to reach the outside world or escape, with his sole purpose in the script being, effectively, to help the other Sephirot overcome their traumas.

I'm sure I've said it before in another post, but this is a man who had to watch as each and every one of the people he canonically calls his friends, dies horribly one after another. It's no wonder he ends up a wreck by the time the loops started!

And tying that in with Dante? And what I did in ch3 of WoLAyin?

I've seen someone suggest that the Aspect that pre-amnesia Dante was trying to "carve" was, in fact, about connecting things. And that had made me think ever since - what if the plan was always to do what they did with the Sinners, but Faust and Limbus Company simply... redirected it? Dante was also trying to hide the location of somewhere, and I can't help thinking with all this in mind, that we don't know where, exactly, the Library ended up falling.

Put together... we have someone who was trying desperately to protect the people they had left behind, even when we have no idea if those in the Library even know that Ayin is out of the Light, let alone what Ayin's getting up to. And on top of that, without any real combat capabilities at all.

So, yeah, maybe Ayin couldn't have done what he did with the Seed of Light without the others, but he needed them for far more than just being living energy sources.

I currently have one new chapter in progress, another chapter idea being very loud in my head.

It's kind of funny how the FFXIV AU I came up with on the fly because I wanted to make Ayin-themed housing wound up being just as much if not more about letting me have the post-Ruina, post-Limbus Ayin-and-Sephirot interactions I always wanted.

(I'm assuming that you were referring to this one, but Lament's just part of my base headcanons for them now and I do still mean to go back to Binah's Sapling of Light story.)

[cheesuschristman]

Ayee intro post :D

So hi, there. You found this blog probably from a post/reblog or comment I made. And you want to check out my page, so here is me info-dumping about myself!

*ahem hem*

Im WAY too active on here lmao so yeah, prepear for the shit load of posts if youre planning on getting notifs when i post.

Name: NettZo / Z / Logan / Earl

Age: Not telling lol, but just know I'm very much a minor

Fandoms: Murder Drones, Roblox Pressure

Fav characters: Tessa (<- i love her she is my child), V, J, Uzi, N

Fav musical artists: Will Wood, Jack Stauber, Sushi Soucy, Evelyn Evelyn, Rio Romeo, The Front Bottoms, Cavetown, Conan Gray, NOAHFINNCE

Sexuality: Bisexual Grayaromatic

Gender: Genderfluid

Languages I speak: Indonesian & English

Pronouns: She/They/He

Side blogs: @starsalot @nett-is-feeling-angsty @live-laugh-love-uzi

Other socials:

C.AI - @Nettz0_LikesPotatoes

Wattpad - @That1AuthorNett

Discord - @nett_wuz_here_33159, Pinterest - @idek_why_im_here_actually_lol Roblox - @feravux_q

Youtube - N3tt_HungUp (i dont post on yt lol, but just putting this out cuz why not)

Fanfics: A Bunch of J x V Oneshots, 4 Things, Roommates (dont read it plz), Why Her? (discontinued)

Character I kin: Serial Designation N

Personality type: ISTP (I think idk)

Birthday: 26th July

Nationality: Indonesian 🇮🇩

Fav Youtubers: RAVON, The Click, Faline San, Chad Chad, Samantha Lux, Not Even Emily, LaurenZside, Jammidodger, Duckyleft, One Topic, Katliente

Ships: NUzi (N x Uzi), eNVy (N x V) (Manor version, idk I just don't vibe with current eNVy personally), VUzi (V x Uzi), Jessa (J x Tessa), NUziV (N x V x Uzi), Oilrose (J x V), JUzi (J x Uzi)

My tags:

"#netts daily yap session" (regular posts, sometimes not rlly even yapping)

"#moosik :3" (songs i like)

"#unfunny shit nett made" (stuff that idek if its even funny, but hey i try-)

"#netts OCs" (my ocs duh)

"#one and only au" (my MD au (ask me abt my au PLS PLS PLS-))

"certified dad here" (puns i make)

FAQ and DNI under the cut!

————————————————————————————

Do you do commissions?

No, I don't. But I am planning on that maybe sometime in the future.

Do you take art requests?

I do! Just state your request in my ask box, though do be aware it is not guaranteed to be done.

How do you feel about DMs?

I'm completely open for a conversation! Just keep it SFW and no business deals please lol.

How do you feel about asks?

I would very much appreciate it! (This is "NettZoian" for: Please, I beg of thee, send me an ask. I am very desperate.)

How do you feel about people reposting/using your art?

I'm okay with it I guess. Just please give credit.

How do you feel about people tagging you?

Feel free to do so!

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DNI List:

- Anti-LGBTQ+

- Transmed/Truscum

- P3d0s, z00s

- Pro-Israel

- NSFW accounts

- Racists

- Ableists

- Comshippers

- Anti-Furry/Therian

Yeah, that's about it for now! Have a good day.