#this isnt a wc au. but it should be

[snailfen]

caseheart and knifeclaw go kill that dictator from twolegplace (cobs) or you're FIRED

[g1rld1ary]

let things go - ex!james potter x reader (kind of)

wc: 4455

summary: cleaning out your apartment so your boyfriend can move in, you come across a box of mementos and discover you're maybe not as over your ex as you thought | angst, swearing, problematic boyfriend (not james), lots of flashbacks, modern!magic!AU

me: this is maybe the angstiest fic i've ever written and i'm sorry that present james isnt in it, but i do have ideas for where his story could go, so if people like this i'm open to writing a second part! based off the song let things go from ordinary days!!

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You stared around your apartment, hands on your hips as you mentally prepared to make it your bitch. With Britney Spears’ Circus album playing and garbage bags at your disposal, you were sure you were ready.

You wondered how you could’ve ever considered the place not big enough for all your belongings, grimacing as you imagined the bomb-site it would soon become. But that’s why you were cleaning, right? For the greater good, because you deserve to live in a place not cluttered by trinkets and things stuffed in places they don’t belong. Or maybe because you’re boyfriend had decided he was moving in. Who could say, really?

You flung open a closet door, unimpressed at the mass of clothes seemingly defying physics to stay off the floor. My life has to be more than the sum of this… stuff you thought to yourself, turning your back on that. The closet was scaring you too much to start, you should pick something easier. You looked up at the bookshelf, teeming with novels you’d long since loved, and told yourself to grow up. Today was the day you started cleaning things out. Today was the day you’d start letting things go.

Hours later, you’d made a start and not much else. You stood in the centre of your bedroom, your whole entire history strewn across the floor. Fetched from a box deep in the back of your closet, a treasure trove of trinkets lay in front of you as you decided what you had to get rid of. Years-old planners, dog-eared postcards. Why was I even keeping these? You asked yourself, laughing at the ridiculous thought of you even holding onto frivolous mementos all these years.

But then you shot yourself in the foot. You almost saw it from an outside perspective, bending down, fingers dusting lightly over the various souvenirs until they curled around the planner, decorated with stickers and photos taped to the front. You recognised it immediately, the planner you had for seventh year.

Your stomach dropped as the memories smacked you in the face and you were on the floor before you knew it, furiously thumbing through the pages.

september 1st - first day of seventh year!

september 27th - hogsmeade date with james <3

october 5th - study with james 4pm

october 31st - halloween! common room party 8pm: make sure james’ costume is ready!!!!

november 23rd - sirius’ birthday party 8:30pm

december 25th - christmas at the potters! make sure gifts are here for effy and monty

january 1 - new years day!! to do: kiss jamie <3

february 14th - valentines day! date with james 7pm

april 9th - easter lunch with the potters

may 29th - graduate from hogwarts!! to do: start life with jamie

A year full of James; one of six knowing him in Hogwarts, one of four that you dated. Every other day had something involving James — help him with his essay, going to Hogsmeade with him, kiss him silly (god bless teenage hormones and being in love, why were you writing that in your academic planner?). Every new page and task brought back memory after memory of James and his dumb smile and your stupid dates and the whole relationship you thought would never end.

You snapped back into your real life, forcibly ignoring the water collecting at your lash line. You were fine, everything was fine. Your eyes strayed to a postcard, paper edges fraying and wearing thin from the amount of time you’d obviously spent re-reading and admiring it.

The design on the postcard was cute and kitschy, a vintage style beach picture with a sun lounger and palm tree. You remembered it instantly, receiving it in the post over the summer between your sixth and seventh year. You flipped it over with trembling hands, the familiar chicken scratch scrawl bringing a small smile to your face.

Hey lovie,

I am in Nice! We got in late last night and I’ve been exploring all day — remind me to show you the photos when I get back because it’s so beautiful here. We should come back here together next year.

Anyway, I’ve been walking around town and this older man asked if I fancied a shag — fancy that! I said no, thank you, I’m actually married, just to see how it felt (very good). I can’t wait to marry you when we’re older, gorgeous.

Mum and Dad are absolutely thrilled to be by the beach — I think they’ll be prunes by the time we get back to England! Will send you photos to laugh at in the next letter.

I love you!

James Potter (your future husband)

You sat for a minute, the postcard crumpling slightly from the tension between your fingers. Then, in a flash, you slammed the postcard down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling to stop yourself from crying.

You stashed the belongings back in the box, unwilling to look at them anymore but unable to throw them away. You just couldn’t get rid of all those memories. Still, you needed to clear out some room for Adam’s things, so you tentatively labelled the box ‘maybe’ to pretend you were considering getting rid of it all.

You exhaled emphatically, convincing yourself to think it over and throw it all out at the end of the day. Just after you did the rest of the room.

Things only got worse from there. You’d never thought of yourself as a hoarder of the past, but as soon as you were looking around your flat, you discovered decorative or sentimental items displayed on every surface, hidden in every drawer and cupboard. Birthday cards from years gone by, plastic souvenirs from monuments you’d travelled to, a pamphlet on Van Gogh from when your friend group went to France and wandered around the d’Orsay making fun of the paintings.

You shook your head, physically manifesting the negative thoughts leaving your head. You needed to clean all this shit out! You should’ve done it years ago.

But then you picked up a framed photo — the one that always seemed to fall face down whenever your boyfriend came around. It was your graduation photo, all your friends crammed in like sardines to fit in the shot. You were pressed into James’ side, his strong athlete’s arm wrapped snugly around you. Nothing else about the picture indicated you were a couple, which was how you rationalised keeping it up, but holding it now, you could feel all the memories rushing back to you like it had happened yesterday. The soft breeze, the smell of daisies from the grounds, your friends' beams, the feeling of James’ hands around you.

You could feel the sensation like it was current, but it all seemed like lifetimes ago. You’d seen James maybe once since your breakup, purely by accident, and it was like ripping your heart out all over again, like you were freshly eighteen and experiencing the first heartbreak of your life.

And to be honest, you could hardly remember the last time you’d even seen the rest of your friends. There was no picking sides, no ferocity or anger, but somewhere along the way, they’d faded from your life, much to your regret. Now, you spent most of your time with Adam. And Adam’s friends. Which was great.

Suddenly, you realised how much your life had changed. How much you’d changed. Adam didn’t even know you were a witch, for God’s sake!

Suddenly, the pictures weren’t just pictures, and souvenirs weren’t just hunks of plastic; they were proof that this life was yours — even if you hadn’t been living it for years. And you couldn’t let that go, you couldn’t dispose of the identity you’d just realised you’d lost. So back the trinkets went, returned to surfaces and shelves in pride of place. Small reminders that you were still who you always had been, even if you didn’t feel like it.

How did it happen? You’d torn up your apartment just to decide you couldn’t get rid of anything, painstakingly returning everything to its place.

Fuck! Adam. Adam still needed to move in —well, he still wanted to move in. So you still needed to find some room for his things. But surely he’d be fine? You could get creative, maybe move some of your mementos from out of the closet and into one of the cabinets in the hallway where Adam would never look, so you didn’t have to get rid of any of it. Or maybe some of your things could be stuffed into the spelled secret crevice where you kept your wand stashed whenever he came around.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Adam would be over in fifteen minutes. Everything needed to go back in its place before he arrived, or all hell would break loose.

It was a known fact to you that Adam was jealous of James, even now. You’d met whilst the two of you were still dating, and Adam had, both before and after, always made comments about how you weren’t right for each other. It had irked you a bit whilst you and James were together, but then again, he was right, so… The point was, if Adam knew you were keeping all of these mementos that involved James, he’d flip.

Half an hour later, Adam arrived.

“Hey, Babe,” He unlocked the door with the key you’d given him free access to a few weeks ago, “Turn that shit off, it’s trashy.” He followed the statement with a kiss, which confused your senses. You nonetheless got up to switch off the music, changing it to an album you knew you could both enjoy, something he’d introduced you to.

“So did you clean out some of your stuff?” He fell onto the couch next to you, reaching to turn on the television. You watched him reach for the remote, sighing as you turned off the music.

“Uh, kind of,” You hesitated, searching for the right words, “I moved some things around. I’ll still have to do some work on it, but I’m sure we’ll have space!”

“Babe,” He groaned, putting an arm around the back of the couch, sitting just disconnected from your skin. “I’m moving in in a few weeks, we’ve gotta get this stuff ready. I know you’re a ‘feeler’, but it’s just stuff, you have to make compromises for me.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” You shifted in your seat, eyes glued to the television screen where Adam was clicking through programs, “It’s all just got sentimental value to me. It’s hard to get rid of any of it. But I’ll try, I promise.”

“What about I just do it? I’m sure I can put a bunch of papers and plastic snow globes in the bin.”

“No!” You said, too fast. “It’s okay, I’ll have another try and be stricter with myself. It’s just the first time I’ve looked at any of this stuff in a while. Memories, you know?”

“I get it, Babe, but we have new memories now. And we’ll make more. You don’t need a shitty hunk of plastic from eight years ago.” You made a noise of agreement, not wanting to get into any more detail about what the ‘hunks of plastic’ really were.

After the talks of moving in and cleaning out moved on, your night really was nice. Adam helped you cook some dinner, and you turned on a film he’d been talking about for a few weeks, but something still felt wrong.

You could tell Adam expected to stay over, a fair assumption, and was being touchy enough that you knew what he wanted. To your own dismay, your body was rejecting his advances, knee twitching when he laid his hand on it, subconsciously leaning away when he cuddled in or nuzzled into your neck. You didn’t want to, but everything felt wrong in the moment.

“Hey, um, I think I’m getting my period or something, my stomach feels really weird. Do you mind if we call it here?” It was a cheap shot, you knew, but also not necessarily a lie — your stomach was feeling queasy.

Adam looked at you for a minute, and you weren’t sure if his knitted brows were for concern, confusion or judgment. Probably all three.

“Sure, I guess. Do you need, like, a hot water bottle or something?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take a painkiller and see if it gets worse. Thanks, though.”

You accompanied him to the door, apologising again softly as he pulled on his shoes.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you soon. Love you,” He said, crossing the boundary outside of your flat. You hummed in agreement, leaning up to press a kiss on his lips.

“Bye,” You murmured, shutting the door softly as he took off. You leant against the door, a sigh escaping you.

You suddenly felt like you were in a video game, anything from your life before Adam illuminating in a glow, calling your attention to them. You stumbled through the apartment, buzzing from photo to souvenir to memento in a haze of memories.

It all came to a head in your bedroom, a box half full of things that didn’t fit in other places still sitting in the middle of the room. You sank to your knees, unable to stop yourself from immersing yourself in the years of memories you were unlocking.

You felt like you were waking up from a dream, a whole reality fading in and out of existence, the pathways of your life splintering as you looked back on where they all diverged. At what point did you make the decision that put you on this specific path? Was it worth it?

You picked up a folded paper flower from out of the box, being taken back to the day you received it.

It was the winter of fourth year, just after the Christmas holidays. The grounds of Hogwarts were covered in a blanket of crisp snow, something that most students found beautiful and calming, but you thought it was isolating, suffocating.

“What’s up, grump?” James approached your spot in the bay window of the library, staring vacantly out at the pristine white grounds. You looked up in surprise, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Just putting off my charms essay, waiting for spring to come,” You sighed. This wasn’t a new problem; all of your friends were well aware of your aversion to winter, but it didn’t mean it ever got better.

“Right,” James laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Well, I, uh, made this to help you feel better?” It came out as way more of a question than he obviously intended, causing a rosy blush on his cheeks as he revealed a paper folded flower from behind his back.

“Potter? What is this?” You asked in delight, reaching out with delicate fingers to cradle the flower in your hands.

“My mum taught me how to make them over the holidays. I thought it’d make you happy over the winter ‘cause they won’t die.” You beamed, looking up at James with bright eyes.

“That is so cute! Thank you, James.” You went to turn back to the window, thinking the conversation was over, when James cleared his throat awkwardly.

“This might be weird or whatever, so, like, don’t even worry, but would you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me next time?”

“Aren’t we all going together in a few weeks?” You asked casually, not fully catching on to what James meant.

“Um, yeah, but I meant just the two of us? Like a date?” James was looking anywhere but at you, a stark difference from his usual cocky, borderline obnoxious demeanour.

“Oh!” You broke out into a wide smile, nodding before you could even get the words out, “Yeah, I’d really like that!”

“Cool,” James replied, sporting his own dorky grin. “Awesome. Amazing! Can’t wait.”

“Yeah,” You agreed, a little awkward but excited nonetheless.

“Yeah.” You and James stared at each other for a moment, unsure of where to go from there. “I’ll see you at dinner then!” He waved quickly, practically leaving a trail of smoke behind him.

You watched him go, a smile still lingering on your lips. James Potter just asked you out on a date! Fancy that!

You and James had dated for the second half of fourth year, fifth through seventh year, and made it eight months after you graduated. That was a significant period of your life, pretty much all of your adolescent memories were inseparably associated with James. You put down the flower, carefully preserving it amongst the other items.

You felt a bit like a madwoman, throwing your things across the floor, jumping from memory to memory like you were a starving man coming across food for the first time.

Even the clip in your hair was a gift from him, coincidentally, the same night you met Adam for the first time.

“Here, lovie, got you a clip so you don’t have to have it in your eyes while you’re dancing.” James approached you from behind, offering you the claw clip before wrapping his arms around your middle, smoothly joining in the group’s conversation.

“Is that where you went?” You asked with a happy gasp, reaching around James to quickly put your hair up. You’d been complaining for the last hour since your group had started dancing as opposed to sitting and chatting, your outfit not quite prepared for the occasion.

“Prongs is so pussy-whipped he went to a chemist for a clip on a night out,” Sirius barked out a laugh to Remus, who just rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Forgive me for loving my beautiful girlfriend?” James asked with a spoonful of sass, placing a kiss on your cheek.

An hour later, you were dancing with the girls, carefree as you threw your arms around in the air. Lily nudged you at one point, gesturing just beyond where the boys were crowding near the bar to where another man was watching you. It wasn’t necessarily intimidating or threatening, but you were unused to attention after being so associated with your relationship for so many years. You accidentally made eye contact with him, sparing him a half smile, unsure of what the proper protocol was.

You’d long forgotten about the man once a Kesha song came on, getting lost in the music with your friends.

About an hour later, you were slowly making your way up to the bar for another drink when the man returned, approaching you with a charming smile.

“Hi, I’m Adam. You’re stunning,” He said, taking you aback with his directness.

“Oh, uh, hi. Nice to meet you,” You introduced yourself, strangely reserved.

“Are you here by yourself?” Adam asked, subtly shuffling closer. You leant back, shaking your head.

“No, I’m here with some friends. And that’s my boyfriend over there.” You pointed James out as he laughed at something Marlene said.

“That guy? No way.” Adam shook his head confidently, laughing in a way that had you a little confused. What was funny about that? When you voiced that thought, he tried to soften his statement, backpedalling a little in a way that amused you. “Sorry, it’s just… You are way out of his league. I mean that guy? He looks like every typical high school film jock who has muscles for brains. Like, does he have independent thought skills?” He said it like a joke, but you weren’t sure it was funny.

“James is really smart, actually. Always got top grades in school,” You replied, voice soft but determined.

“Oh, you guys went to school together? High school sweethearts?” Adam had totally changed his tune, maybe because he could see that you didn’t think insulting your boyfriend was entertaining. Still, you nodded brightly, choosing to believe the best in him.

“Yeah, we’ve been dating since I was fourteen! We’re going on four years.” You glowed with pride, eyes straying over to James, who was starting to notice where you were.

“So you’re fresh out of school, huh?” You nodded slowly, suddenly aware that he could be decades older than you. Well, maybe you were being a little dramatic.

“How old are you?” Adam was twenty-four, as he told you, which did surprise you slightly, though you tried not to let it show. In the real world, that’s not crazy, right? Maybe you were still adjusting to being out of Hogwarts.

“Hi, lovely, who are you talking to?” James approached you both, his hand snaking around your waist.

“This is Adam. We were just chatting.”

“Hey, mate.” They exchanged identical greetings, a strange tension growing.

“Your girlfriend’s just been raving about how great you are, mate. You’re a very lucky man.”

“I know,” James said, jaw tensing in a way that was equal parts concerning and sexy.

“Well, it was nice meeting you!” You chirped, pulling away to end the conversation now that James was beside you.

“Yeah, you too, honey. I hope we meet again soon.” You nodded after a slight pause, waving politely as James led you back to your comfort zone and your friends.

“Well, who knew little miss wifed-up still had it?” Remus laughed, giving you an impressed nod.

“Hey, I thought we all knew I was gorgeous,” You joked, tossing your hair dramatically, “But seriously, if I have it, I do not want it.”

It wasn’t until later that you’d met Adam again and struck up a friendship which eventually evolved into a relationship, beginning to bond right before the start of the demise of your and James’ relationship.

God, you felt like your world was beginning to crash down around you, memories you’d had locked away for years resurfacing the second you laid eyes on a corresponding memento.

Everything was too suffocating; you needed to get out. Stumbling around your room, you pulled on some outside clothes, lacing up your shoes as you hopped down the entryway.

Walking down the street, you immediately felt a bit calmer, the crisp air sending shocks through your system and bringing you back down to earth.

With a little more sense in your head, the reality of your feelings began to set in. Regardless of how satisfied you were with your current life, which was something you were simultaneously beginning to reconsider, you missed your old life. In particular, you missed your friends.

Though James was obviously a massive part of your life and dominated most of the souvenirs you’d held onto, you’d had the same friendship group for six years of school. They rounded out every memory, filled the time between classes at school, and helped shape you into who you’d become as you grew into adulthood.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, you’d lost contact with them. Obviously, you hadn’t caught up with James since the breakup (with the exception of the single most awkward interaction of your life) because you were so heartbroken and shattered, but you’d tried not to let it impact your friendships.

Sirius was the first to go, of course, just because he was so close to James, and the other boys followed not too long after, torn between the rift. The girls held on for a bit longer, and you would tentatively say you were still friends today, but the intervals between your catch-ups got longer and longer each time. No bitterness, at least on your part, but you were all busy leading different lives.

Suddenly, it clicked how long it really had been since you’d seen your friends, and how it had steadily declined ever since Adam. Maybe it was just because you were already emotionally distraught, but doubts began to creep in about Adam. The way he’d behaved even before your breakup, his refusal to hang out with your friends after, and insisting you hang out with his friends all the time despite them not really liking you. It felt like something was beginning to add up, but you weren’t sure how to finish the equation.

With shaking hands, you fished your phone out of your pocket, searching through your contacts for a number you hadn’t called in far too long.

“Hello?” The voice on the other side asked, gentle confusion evident.

“Lily?” You asked, voice wavering as relief washed over you at the familiarity.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Lily asked immediately, the intricacies of your speech pattern coming back to her in an instant.

“Are you free to talk for a bit?”

“Um, yeah, of course! Remus is with me right now. Do you want to be on speaker? Or I can go into a different room.” You said it was fine, the desire to hear his voice overpowering in your heart.

“Hi, dove. Been a while,” He said softly, and you could see the expression he was making despite it being a voice call.

“Yeah, sorry,” You choked out, tears beginning to spill again. Without further ado, you began to spill everything. All of the conflicting thoughts and feelings that had stirred within you in the span of a single day. You told them about Adam rushing you to let him move in before you were maybe ready (you’d never said that out loud before), finding the box of memories you’d forgotten had even existed, and the deep, deep longing for the past you’d felt ever since.

When you were finally finished you’d cried out all the water left in your body, but you felt monumentally lighter, even if it was just because Lily and Remus at least knew how much you loved and missed them.

As you began to trail off, worries less prominent, your friends sat in silence on the other side of the line.

“Do you think I’m broken?” You asked, voice ragged from your monologue and the accompanying tears.

“I think,” Lily said, “You need to come over tonight.”

[ki2rins]

⟢ swim - sjy

pairings: transfer student! jake x fem! reader || fluff, angst || wc: 2.5k

synopsis: you have always been the star on your swim team, bringing your school to glory. but everything starts going downhill when jake, another talented swimmer, transfers in. as you start a one-sided rivalry with him, you realise that hes less of a rival and more of an ally.

warnings: high school au, rival swimmers au, one sided rivalry (you see him as a threat, but he isnt), confident jake, petname (jake calls you jelly like twice?) brief hinting of jake liking you.

rin's yap: thankyou anon for the req <3 hope you love it! (btw im a big fan of the anime, free! so this was fun to write! )

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“welcome back, team! good job at the last prefectural competition, especially you, yn. our two-time champion of 100m free! you broke your own record with a timing of 1 minute and 11 seconds. we are so proud of you, yn!” 

applause erupted as coach choi, your swim club coach, praised your achievement. 

you picked up swimming at the age of 5, joined your first competition at 8 and won your first medal not long after.  now, you were a two-time champion, the best in your category. freestyle was your best stroke, the one you have been fine-tuning for years, the one that everyone praised you for. people admired your technique, your stamina, your precision. 

and you intended to keep the praises rolling in. 

unaware, you hadnt notice a figure entering the locker room - someone unfamiliar. 

“to the rest of you, continue to improve for the next meet that’s coming up in two months.” 

“uh coach choi?” an unfamiliar voice spoke up making your club members, including yourself, turn their heads.

“ah jake! here you are, i have been waiting for you!”

you looked this ‘jake’ up and down. with one glance, you could tell he was one of you guys. 

he was a swimmer - the tanned skin tone gave it all away. 

coach choi smiled proudly, turning to the rest of the team. “jake is the new transfer student from australia. he’ll be training with us, so make sure to welcome him. hes got a lot of experience under his belt, so dont be shy about picking his brain!”

you couldnt help but roll your eyes at your coaches’ words. pick his brain? yeah, like you needed advice from some new guy that just joined your team moments ago. 

jake, clearly unfazed, grinned at the team. “hey everyone, glad to be here. hope i can keep up!” his smile easily charmed the girls on your co-ed swim team and something about him already irks you - his confident yet annoyingly laid back composure. 

one of your teammates, eunjin, leaned in, whispering to you. “look, look! isnt he cute? should i go ask him for tips? do you think he’ll talk to me?” 

you glanced over at jake, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he chatted with some of the others. he was already making himself at home, and the fact that he was so comfortable in this new environment threw you off even more. 

this was definitely going to be a problem.

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it was like jake was everywhere. 

and everywhere, it was literally everywhere in your sight. 

at practice, in the locker rooms and even in the hallways. every time you turned around, there he was - chatting with your teammates, making small talk, laughing at things that werent even funny. 

at first, you thought maybe you were just imagining it. you had been busy with your training, pushing for a new personal best, but by the way jake seemed to be seamlessly integrated into the team irritated you. he had only been here for a few weeks, yet it felt like he had been with the team forever. 

the more you saw him, the more it bothered you. hell, you were fully convinced that the ‘egg theory’ is more than fiction. 

his confidence was too much, and the ease with which he navigated everything made your stomach churn. it was like he was constantly reminding everyone that he was better - even when he wasnt even trying, even when he wasnt even in the water. 

it didnt help that you were already feeling the pressure to hold on to your position as the team’s best. you had been the one everyone looked up to, the one who had earned all the accolades, leading your school to its fame. now, jake was walking in and getting all the attention. 

jake was stealing your thunder, and it drove you insane. 

one afternoon during practice, you were doing your usual drills when jake casually swam in the lane next to yours. as you caught your breath after one of those sets, you heard jake calling out to you. 

“i noticed your breathing pattern is a little off, you might want to time it better with your strokes. you are wasting energy. if you are aiming for a better timing, you should focus on that.” 

you bit back a sharp retort, forcing yourself to stay calm. you always appreciated constructive criticism, some even helped to perfect your form. but hearing it from jake pissed you off, it felt like him pointing out flaws he wasnt even supposed to see - especially when you hadnt asked for his opinion in the first place. 

“i know what im doing.” you muttered, not looking at him. 

jake shrugged, unfazed by your cold response. “alright, just giving you my thoughts, no big deal.” 

you glared at the water, looking at your own reflection. the water was your safe space, your haven, but being criticised while in your element made it feel more than a big deal. it made the water surrounding you feel foreign, like it was no longer yours. 

the worst part? jake was right. his critique wasnt wrong, but it stung all the more because it came from him. 

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

for the next few days, jake’s presence annoyed you more and more. every time you came to practice, he was there, effortlessly gliding through the water, as if he had been part of the team longer than you had. his form was near perfect. no matter how hard you tried to beat him, he was always ahead, cutting through the water like he belonged. 

and that infuriated you. 

the final straw came one day when you found yourself in the locker room with jake again, though this time, the tension was thicker. you had just finished another gruelling set, drenched in sweat and trying to keep your cool. as you walked towards your locker, you saw jake standing there, chatting with one of your teammates, a wide grin plastered on his face. 

you tried to ignore him, like always, focusing on your towel and your bag. but then, of course, you heard him speak again. 

“yn, how about we work on those breathing drills later?” jake’s voice was casual, easy. “im pretty sure i can help you shave off some time.” 

you froze. 

this time, it wasnt just some advice he was giving, it was him acting as if he was more than just the new guy. 

“i dont need your help, jake.” you snapped, more sharply than you intended. 

he raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “alright, jelly. no need to bite my head off. just trying to offer some help.” 

“first off, what did you just call? secondly, are you sure youre offering ‘help’ or are you just trying to show off?” you crossed your arms, your patience wearing thin. 

jake’s expression softened for a moment, and he leaned against the locker, his grin replaced by something more genuine. “look, im not trying to steal your spotlight, okay? im just here to train, like everyone else. and since you are aiming for a new best, im just trying to help you as well.” 

you felt the anger rise in your chest. “you are not like everyone else. you have been here for five minutes, and suddenly you think you know everything”” 

jake hesitated, his eyes searching for yours, and for the first time, there was something more in his gaze. “im just trying to help. but if you dont want it, i’ll back off” 

you looked away, suddenly unsure of how to feel. part of you wanted to snap at him, to remind him that he didnt belong, that he couldnt just come in and take everything from you. but the other part, the part that knew he was right, that knew he wasnt trying to undermine you, just felt confused.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you couldnt shake the feeling that something was off. all day, you felt a tight knot in your stomach, as if every little thing was working against you. you kept replaying the moment in with jake that happened in the locker room - his words, the confidence he exuded and that stupid nickname he gave you. jelly. you didnt even know what to make of it, but it stung more than a jellyfish did. 

you knew you needed a release, so you headed to the indoor pool after practice. the one place you knew you could find peace and quietness in. it was already two hours since practice ended, so you knew no one was going to bother you.

you dove in the water, letting the coldness shock you back into focus. stroke after stroke, you pushed through the water, letting your mind drift. for a moment, you were back in control, nothing was blocking your thoughts. no jake, no tension, no schoolwork, just you and the rippling sound of water. 

but then, from the corner of your eye, you saw him. 

jake. of course.

he was standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed, watching you swim. you didnt need to see his face to know he was there. you could feel him, his presence and you knew his eyes were on you. you tried your best to kept swimming as though you didnt care, but obviously you couldnt. 

you stopped at the wall, pulling yourself up and taking in a deep breath, trying to steady your breath. then, you heard his voice. 

“practice ended two hours ago, what are you doing here?” 

“why do you care?” you shot him a glare as you pushed your goggles up. 

jake raised his hands in mock surrender, a slight grin tugged at his lips. “woah, calm down jelly. was just watchin’. looks like you have something to prove tonight, huh?” 

“just go away, jake. i dont need your help. i dont need anyone’s help.” you said in frustration. 

his smile faltered slightly, but it was still there. “you sure about that? you have been pushing yourself harder than anyone here. i just thought you might-” 

“i dont need your advice.” you cut him off. “not from you, not from anyone.” 

there was a moment of silence lingering in the air before jake took a step closer to the pool, leaning over slightly. “look, if you think you can do it all on your own, fine. but maybe you would be faster if you didnt push people away.” 

you could feel anger bubbling inside you, a big contrast from the serene sight of water in front of you. the sting of his words were biting into your chest, eating you up alive. “what the hell do you know about it? you have been here, what? couple of weeks? you think you have figured it all out?” 

jake’s gaze softened, the playful energy from before draining away. “i dont have it all figured out. but i do know that im not here to take your spot. im here to train, just like everyone else.” 

you clenched your jaw, frustration swirling in your chest. “then stay in your lane. this is my team, my spotlight.” 

jake didnt flinch. his eyes were steady, watching you closely. “but im part of your team now. thats the change you have to accept. and maybe its not about the spotlight. maybe its about getting better. together.” 

his words hit you harder than you expected. you looked away, trying to steady your breath. you didnt want to admit it, but part of you, knew he wasnt just speaking about swimming. and this made the situation feel more complicated than it already was. 

“i dont need anyone.” you muttered under your breath, almost to yourself, before you could hear it. 

but jake heard you. he stepped even closer, standing at the edge of the pool now, watching you carefully. “you dont have to do it alone.” he said, quieter this time. “and im not here to make you feel like you have to.” 

the words lingered between you both, thick with unspoken tension. the distance between you, once measured in simple rivalry, had shifted. now, it was more than that - more than the frustration, more than the anger. 

and for the first time in weeks, you werent sure if you were ready to face what came next.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

slowly, you accepted jake’s help. 

it wasnt easy, not at first. there was still a part of you that resented him for making you feel like you werent enough on your own. but as the days passed and practice went by, you started to realise something - maybe, just maybe, you didnt have to carry the weight of everything by yourself. 

at first, you still kept your distance. it was subtle - small things like not looking hin the the eye when he offered advice, or pretending to be focused to engage when he swam next to you. but he didnt push, didnt force anything. he was patient. 

the first time you actually took his advice was after a particularly brutal set. you were pantin g for air, hands gripping the edge of the pool, when you felt him approach. 

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of water slapping against the sides of the pool. 

you nodded, too tired to even respond. 

he crouched by the poolside. “i saw you struggling a little with your timing. if you want, i can show you a drill to help with your breathing rhythm.” 

the words hung in the air between you, your pride bristled at the thought of needing his help, but a quiet voice inside you told you that he wasnt trying to undermine you.  he was just trying to help. 

“fine.” you muttered, pushing yourself off the wall and drifting back into the water. 

as he demonstrated the drill, something inside you shifted. it wasnt just his skill you were admiring - it was his ability to give without expecting anything in return. he was simply…there. no judgement, no agenda, just set on helping you improve, because he knew thats what mattered. 

it wasnt easy to admit that you didnt have all the answers. but as the weeks went on, you started seeking his advice more often. first, it was small things, like adjusting your stroke or the timing of your breaths. then, slowly, you began to see that his presence didnt just make you better in the pool - it made you better outside of it, too. 

you still hated admitting it, but jake was starting to feel less like the enemy and more like an unexpected ally. 

and when he grinned after watching you perfect a new stroke, you couldnt help but grin back. 

“not bad.” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“thanks, i guess, for the compliment…and maybe for the help too.” 

there was no big moment or revelation, no dramatic scene where everything clicked into place. but slowly, day by day, you allowed him to help. you didnt expect everything to change overnight. you were still wary, still holding on to that part of yourself that didnt want to rely on anyone. 

but with jake, it was little easier to take it one step at a time. 

“anytime, for you, jelly. whenever you want.”

© ki2rins 2025, please do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch17

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity.

chap contents: mentions of unsafe driving ( dont ) jungkook is an idiot. he cries for half the chapter again, nari being our fav supportive bestie, we love her, oc is in her elle woods era LOL. alc consumption, jk is so heartbroken and so is oc, jungkook spamming oc, oc accidentally replies while drunk ( spoiler: they dont fix anything btw) theres honestly more humour then angst!!

wc: shortttt

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610 @bjoriis @kaitieskidmore97 @cuntessaiii

a/n: im gonna upload the next part in a few because i had to split up the chapter since it was super awkward to keep in one long part!! this part isnt that angsty ngl, im also NOT good at writing angst if u cant tell. but yeah, enjoy loves <3

masterlist, < prev | next >

Jungkook sits in his car for a long time outside your apartment building.

Long enough for the engine’s low hum to become a dull vibration against his hands. Long enough for the tears burning his eyes to finally spill over.

He grips the steering wheel. His knuckles turn white. He can still hear you.

Still hear the crack in your voice when you told him to leave. Still see the way you flinched when he tried to touch you.

He squeezes his eyes shut. His chest aches.

His lungs feel tight.

His stomach is turning and twisting and burning and then, he pulls out his phone.

Dials the number without thinking.

It rings twice before, “Jungkook, what’s up?”

The second he hears Taehyung’s voice, Jungkook shatters. He doesn’t even get a word out. Just breaks. His whole body curls inward as the sobs hit him all over again, raw and ugly and relentless. There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

Then, “Jungkook?”

Jungkook tries to speak. Fails.

His hands shake against his lap. He presses the heel of his palm to his forehead, trying to hold himself together, but it’s pointless.

“She knows.”

His voice barely comes out. “She fucking found out.”

Taehyung exhales.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “You fucked up.”

Jungkook lets out a hollow laugh. “No shit.”

He swallows, trying to get his breathing under control. His chest is heaving. His skin is burning.

“It happened so wrong,” he whispers. “I was supposed to tell her, I was—I was going to tell her, I had this whole fucking plan, but—”

He cuts himself off. His mind is racing.

The guilt turns into anger. “She would’ve been upset anyway.” His voice is sharper now, defensive. “Even if I told her weeks ago, she still would’ve been hurt. Like—like, this was always going to happen, right?”

Taehyung sighs. Doesn’t say anything at first.

And then “Jungkook.”

His tone is flat. Calm. Unwavering.

“Stop.”

Jungkook blinks. And suddenly, it all collapses. The weight of his own bullshit slams into him all at once.

He was making excuses. Trying to convince himself that you were just as responsible for getting attached. That this was inevitable. That it wasn’t entirely his fault. But it was. It was all his fault. There is no one else to blame. Not you. Not the situation. Not even time itself.

Just him.

And the realization guts him. His lip trembles. His head drops. His vision blurs all over again.

“I ruined everything,” he chokes out.

Taehyung doesn’t argue. Doesn’t tell him he didn’t. Doesn’t try to make him feel better. He just lets him sit in it. Jungkook grips the phone tighter, his breathing unsteady.

“I gotta go.”

And before Taehyung can respond, he ends the call.

He drives. Fast. Faster than he should. Blowing through streets he doesn’t recognize. Ignoring the blaring horns from pissed-off drivers when he swerves too suddenly. Blinking past the tears making the city lights smear together. His mind is loud.

His heart is pounding. And then, somehow, He ends up at the field. The one place he always runs to.

The one place he stupidly introduced you to. His escape. His getaway. And now—now it’s just another thing that reminds him of you.

He stumbles out of the car. His legs feel weak. The air is cold. He doesn’t care.

He walks to where you both sat that night—his spot in the grass is worn in more than yours.

Because he comes here all the time. Because he always ran here when things got too much. Because this place was his before you—

But now, somehow, it is you.

He sinks down onto the grass, knees bent, hands shaking. He stares at the tree where he hung the fairy lights that are still barely there. His gaze drifts—

There.

The paint. A tiny splash of color against the bark.

Leftover from that night you painted together.

That night you chased each other, breathless and laughing, Jungkook with streaks of red and blue smudged across his cheeks, you with splatters of yellow on your sweater.

That night he thought— No.

That night he knew he had already fallen for you.

Completely. Helplessly. Stupidly.

Jungkook clenches his jaw. He loses it.

A broken sob tears from his throat.

He grips his hair in his shirt, tugging like it’ll somehow lessen the unbearable ache in his chest. He gasps for breath. His whole body shakes. It feels like something inside him is splitting open, too fucking much.

His hand fumbles for his phone.

He barely sees the screen through his tears. His fingers move on autopilot. He opens your messages.

He starts spamming.

Jungkook [10:47pm]: please

Jungkook [10:47pm]: im so fucking sorry

Jungkook [10:48pm]: let me explain please.

Jungkook [10:48pm]: please, please, please.

Jungkook [10:49pm]: please pick up.

His thumb hovers over your contact. He calls. It rings. No answer.

He calls again. Still nothing.

And then, finally, On the third attempt—

The line clicks.

For a second, his breath catches—

“Stop fucking calling.”

Nari’s voice is sharp. Low. Whispered. Lethal. And then—

Click. The call drops. His whole body deflates. And then, before he can even process it—

A new notification.

Y/N has turned on Do Not Disturb.

Jungkook stares at his screen. The lump in his throat expands.His vision swims. And then, finally, Finally—He gives up.

Drops his phone.

Presses his palms into his eyes.

And sobs until his whole body aches.

——

You wake up feeling…nothing. Not empty. Not heavy. Just numb.

Your eyes flicker open to the soft glow of daylight peeking through the curtains. The sheets are tangled around you, stiff from dried tears. The weight of Nari’s arm, which had been slung over you at some point in the night, is gone. She’s still here, though.

Curled up beside you, knocked out cold. You should’ve known. Nari was always a deep sleeper, but last night—last night, she stayed up.

She always knocks out first. Always. But last night, she stayed awake, waiting for you to sleep first. Probably because she knew you wouldn’t.

You glance at the ceiling, blinking slowly.

Your body is exhausted, but your mind is still replaying everything in loops.

Your parents.

The dinner.

Jungkook.

His voice.

His silence.

The way he looked at you.

The way he didn’t look at you.

Three weeks. He had three weeks left, and he wasn’t even going to tell you.

You inhale sharply. Throat tight. The thought should hurt.

But instead, you just feel like…static. A long, droning sound in the back of your head that won’t go away.

Eventually, Nari stirs.

She groans, stretches, then pops her head up up without a word. She doesn’t look at you immediately.

Just rubs at her face before swinging her legs over yours, sighing heavily.

And then— “We are not going to work today.”

It’s not a suggestion. It’s a statement. You don’t argue. Just exhale, closing your eyes.

Your boss is going to freak.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your phone vibrates aggressively on the nightstand.

You barely register the caller ID before you answer, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Where are you, my darling!?”

You wince. Your boss’s voice is already dramatic as hell first thing in the morning.

“We miss you so much,” he continues, not even giving you a second to answer. “Everyone is looking for you—your regulars, my dear customers, even the damn coffee machine won’t start without you. It’s broken in your absence. The diner is nothing without you, my sweet angel—”

You fake a cough into your fist.

“I’m sick.”

A beat of silence.

Then, suspiciously, “You don’t sound sick.”

Before you can respond, Nari—who was previously lying face down into the pillow—suddenly lifts her head and groggily groans,

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking tired, bitch.”

Your eyes widen. You slap a hand over her mouth so fast. But it’s too late.

There’s a long, long pause on the other end of the call.

And then, “Is that Nari?”

You sigh.

“Yes.”

“My other darling? My other baby?”

You don’t even know what to say.

Nari, meanwhile, is staring at you, eyes narrowed, clearly trying to process what the hell is going on.

“We’re sick,” you repeat weakly. “I promise we’ll be back tomorrow.”

Your boss hums, unconvinced.

Then—

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

Another pause.

Then, finally—

“I love you.”

And then the line clicks.

You blink.

Nari blinks.

And then—

You both burst out cackling.

She flops back into the pillows, groaning, “What the fuck?”

“Our boss.”

“He’s obsessed with us.”

“I know.” You both laugh for a while, but it doesn’t last long. Because then. The silence creeps in again. And with it—everything else. Your smile fades. Nari notices.

She doesn’t say anything—just nudges your arm gently before pulling you out of bed.

“C’mon,” she says softly. “Let’s make breakfast.”

You both shuffle into the kitchen, still in your pajamas. Neither of you are particularly great at cooking, but Nari makes you try, at least. You attempt to make pancakes. Somehow, they come out crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside. You both look at each other, horrified.

“Is this safe?” Nari murmurs, poking at one with a fork.

You deadpan. “If we die, tell Jungkook I hate him.”

Nari snorts, rolling her eyes. “He already knows.”

You attempt a bite. It’s disgusting. So you order takeout instead.

And then, you both curl up on the couch, burritos in blankets, watching rom-coms.

It’s nice, for a while.

The movies are cheesy. The food is objectively bad for you. The apartment is dimly lit by your closed curtains, the only sound filling the room is the over-exaggerated dramatic background music of the film.

And then—

Somewhere between a Titanic rerun and a Legally Blonde binge, it happens.

You’re staring at the screen.

A happy couple is kissing. The music swells.

And suddenly, “Fuck you, Jungkook.”

The words leave your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them. You grab a piece of chocolate and chuck it at the screen.

Nari startles. You don’t stop. You throw another one.

And another.

Mascara ruining your face, wrapped in your blanket like a cocoon, ugly crying in real time—

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you sob, chucking another piece of chocolate.

“Fuck you for—” throw “—lying to me—” throw “—for making me think—” throw “—for leaving—”

Nari is watching, wide-eyed, rubbing your back.

“You’re in your Elle Woods era right now,” she murmurs, amused.

You sniff. “She had a better ending than me.”

Nari sighs, squeezing your arm.

“You will have a better ending than this.”

You don’t know if she’s right. But right now—You need to believe it.

It starts with rom-coms. It ends with wine. A lot of wine. You and Nari should’ve known better.

It starts off innocent—just a bottle, just a few glasses, just something to take the edge off after a long day of doing absolutely nothing.

But then— Oh, you think. Wine tastes good. So you have another glass. And then another.

And then suddenly, the two of you are sat on the couch, legs tangled over each other, deep in a drunk spiral that neither of you can pull out of. The TV is still playing in the background, but neither of you are watching anymore.

You’re both just talking. Well. More like crying. You start it.

Sniffling, wiping at your nose aggressively, voice thick as you grumble, “I hate him.” Nari, equally drunk, hums into her glass.

“Bitch, please.”

You glare. “I do.”

“Right.” She nods. “And I’m a nun.”

You huff, sinking into the couch, gripping your blanket tighter around you. “I hate him,” you repeat. But your voice cracks. Nari doesn’t call you out on it, though.

Because, for the first time tonight—

She’s crying, too.

You both just sit there, staring at each other, faces blotchy and wet.

Then, suddenly, Nari groans, rubbing aggressively at her face.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad I don’t have a boyfriend.”

You blink at her. “You literally cry about not having a boyfriend all the time.”

“Yeah, but—” She gestures wildly at you. “Look at you right now.”

You scoff. “Rude.”

She grins. “Love you.”

“Whatever.”

She giggles. Then— You don’t know what compels you to do it.

Maybe it’s the wine. Maybe it’s the desperation. Maybe it’s the fact that—deep down—you don’t actually hate him.

But before you even realize what you’re doing, you pull out your phone.

You hover over his name in your contacts, fingers trembling, heart pounding.

And then—You tap the voice message button.

Nari, through her haze, immediately senses danger.

Her eyes widen. “What are you doing?”

You sniff, still crying. “I don’t know.”

“You better not—”

But you’re already speaking, slurry and all.

“I miss you.”

Nari lunges.

“NO—”

Too late. Your finger slips. The message sends. A long, long silence follows.

You stare at your phone, wide-eyed. Nari stares at your phone, horrified.

You both turn to each other at the same time.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

You shriek.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!”

Nari snatches your phone, unlocking it so fast you don’t even process it. You lunge for it. “Nari—”

“YOU JUST BEGGED FOR HIM.”

“I WAS DRUNK—”

“YOU’RE STILL DRUNK.”

She shoves your face away as you try to grab it.

“No, no, no, NO—”

She fumbles with your phone.

“DELETE DELETE DELETE—”

Your phone buzzes. You both freeze. A message. From Jungkook.

You both stare.

Then—

Nari, not even hesitating, launches your phone across the couch.

“NOPE.”

“NARI—”

“NOPE. WE ARE NOT DEALING WITH THIS TONIGHT.”

“But what if he—”

“NOPE.”

You pout. “I wanna see what he said.”

“No, you don’t.”

You pause. Then—You sigh. Flop onto the couch. Bury your face in a pillow. And accept your fate.

At some point, you get stupid. And by stupid, you mean—you sneak off to the bathroom. Like an idiot. You don’t even make it subtle.

You just go, wiping aggressively at your tears, swaying a little from the wine, locking the door behind you. And then—You open your phone.

Nari’s outside in seconds.

She bangs on the door. “BITCH, I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING—”

You giggle.

But also—sniffle.

You don’t know why you’re crying again.You don’t even feel sad anymore. You can’t.

But for some reason—this whole situation is so stupid that you can’t help but laugh and sob at the same time.

You unlock the message.

Jungkook’s name glares at you.

One new message.

You hesitate.

Then, you open it.

It’s just a short recording.

You press play.

His voice, thick and hoarse, fills the tiny bathroom.

“Baby…”

You freeze.

“Are you drunk? Please don’t do this to me.”

Your breath catches.

“Please text me, call me, anything.” The sound of him sniffling. Your heart lurches.

“I love you.” Your stomach twists.

I love you?

Surely he doesn’t mean it.

You brush it off, pretending it doesn’t make your heart beat stupidly fast in your chest.

“I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m so sorry, baby. Please, just… don’t hate me.”

A shaky inhale.

“I can’t—I can’t do this without you.”

And then— The recording ends. You just stare at your screen. Your chest aches.

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate how he can just say those words and make you feel everything you’re trying so hard to push down. You feel sick. You feel stupid. You feel like—

Maybe you don’t hate him at all.

Suddenly— The door rattles.

Nari kicks it.

“YN, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW BEFORE I BREAK IT DOWN—”

You startle. Fumble to turn your phone off.

“I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING—”

“BULLSHIT.”

You giggle.

“YOU’RE FUCKING CRYING, AREN’T YOU?”

“…No?”

“YOU ARE!”

Another bang.

“I swear to god—”

You sigh dramatically, unlocking the door. The second you do— Nari snatches your phone out of your hands.

“NOPE.”

You gasp. “HEY—”

“NOPE. GIVE ME THAT SHIT.”

She drags you to the bedroom. Practically throws you onto the bed.

“I’M LOCKING YOUR PHONE AWAY.”

You groan. “That’s so dramatic—”

“YOU’RE DRUNK AND EMOTIONAL.”

You pout.

Nari glares.

Then—

She flops onto the bed next to you.

And just like that—

You both knock out.

…

But not before—

You suddenly sit up, eyes wide.

A horrified gasp rips out of your throat.

“SHIT.”

Nari jerks awake.

“What?” she slurs. “What happened?”

You grab her arm, shaking her violently. “WE PROMISED OUR BOSS WE’D BE IN TOMORROW—”

Nari’s brain short-circuits. She blinks, then “Oh, fuck.”

You both just stare at each other.

You let out a synchronized scream.

Poor neighbors

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Suites & Sweets

freshman year at Jujutsu University Tokyo seems like it will be uneventful. and, well, that's true... until you meet the boys in the suite across the hall, and one in particular piques your interest.

satoru gojo x reader | jjk college au | no curse au | fem! reader | fluff, angst, & slow burn | SMAU & writing <3

introduction | previous | next

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

ˋ°•*⁀➷˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 7. 𝓜𝓐𝓣𝓒𝓗𝓘𝓝𝓖 𝓟𝓙𝓢 ⍣ ೋ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ... wc: 0 (just smau!)

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

TAGLIST (currently open!):

@kentozwife @inthedarkshadows000 @yoimiya-m @makeshiftproject @frogfishie

@therealanxiety @kaged-kitty @pellucid-constellations @fuckisthatahotghost

@harryzcherry @briezy04764

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

*gasp* EX BF????

do u think i should add twitters or priv instas to get a better look into yns mind or is that overwhelming idk lmk also toji ... he obv noticed gojos stare & yn/toji have known from the start their fooling around isnt too serious :P toji likes yn & feels oddly protective over her dwwww he just doesnt wanna get too committed rn hes busy and knows he isnt ready for a relationship idk if that makes sense but i can clarify whateverrr

hope you enjoyed!! ilyyyyy <333

[ethereacals]

Hi lovely! I love your writing! Can you do a single dad! james one shot where harry is in kindergarten (lily isn’t in the picture) and you’re harry’s teacher and james has a crush on you? No pressure if you don’t have time! Thank you!

hi dovie!! thanks for much for requesting! i was on holiday so i couldn’t respond quickly but i hope this was worth the wait 😊

-

Paper Rings~💌

singledad!jamespotter x fem!kindergartenteacher!reader

summary; Harry is a charming kid, but his dad might be even more charming.

a/n; no hate to my girl lily! i just like to imagine that she’s with mary or pandora (:

wc; 1.2k

warnings; none (:

contents; muggle au, james sirius and remus co-parent harry, lily isnt in the picture

YOU WERE NERVOUS, i mean, rightfully so.

Monday, August 23rd. the first day of school, and the first day of your new job.

in the past, you thought you’d be anything but a kindergarten teacher. but after volunteering with a local daycare over the summer…

you were smitten.

besides, you knew one day you’d actually have kids. but that was about… seven years down the line. (yes, you had your future all mapped out)

and it’s better this way, really. you get to hang out with the kids, paint with them, read with them, talk to them, and then at three o’clock you can just return them back to their parents and not have to deal with kids all night.

perfect plan, right?

wrong.

after pacing your well-decorated classroom back and forth about sixteen times in the past twelve minutes, a fellow teacher came in to chat.

“Hi, you’re Y/N, right?”

you spun around to the source of the greeting.

“sorry, yes, i am.”

you shook his hand with an anxious type of firmness.

“it’s nice to meet you, i’m Remus. i teach seventh grade.”

his smile lit up the awkward mood in the room.

“i assume you’re a bit nervous, yes?”

“a bit more than a bit.”

you admitted embarrassingly, they were just kids.

“well, you’ve definitely gotten the best age group to start out with.”

“i have?”

“mhm, all you have to do really is teach them their ABCs, and make sure they don’t eat the non-toxic paint.”

you let out a soft chuckle at that.

“i’ll certainly try my best, Remus.” he smiled.

“well, you’re about to get some kids in here so i should probably leave. just be careful, when i started out i was so much taller than the kids that some of them climbed onto me like i was a tree.”

he chuckled, definitely easing your nerves.

“that sounds like hell.”

“it was.” he nodded, closing your door with a soft thud, leaving you to your own thoughts and feelings.

until a young boy walked in with his dad, nervously clutching onto his big hand.

“hi… you’re ms. L/N, right?”

the dad spoke in a soft spoken manner, clearly not wanting to spook his son. (totally not because he was absolutely astonished and terrified that his sons teacher was maybe the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen)

“yes, i am.”

you answered with the same tone, swallowing down your anxiety.

“well… this is harry.”

Harry ducked behind his legs.

“i’m sorry, he’s not usually shy.”

“it’s alright, everybody gets nervous the first time they try anything.”

you crouched down to the boys level.

“hi, Harry. i’m Ms. L/N.”

“h-hi, Mrs. L/N."

the boy smiled cheekily as he held his little hands.

"we're gonna have so much fun today, so don't be scared." you returned his smile, yet you were probably about as nervous as he was.

you stood back up to face his dad, he was tall... very tall, and his eyes a hazel hue.

god, was he handsome.

no, that was not a good thing to say about someone who was definitely married with a kid.

but... maybe just sneak one more glance..

but, of course. the kids began to pile in, and the handsome young dilf dad waved goodbye to his son, and turned to leave.

little did you know he was thinking of you too.

your first day on the job was incredible, and time had flown by to Christmas Break.

your classroom was lovingly decorated for the holidays, and you had gotten to know your peers a bit better.

Remus was definitely your teacher buddy, you'd get coffee every Friday after school to discuss the past week and your plans for the next.

you had come to find out (through these coffee debriefs) that Remus was actually roommates with James- Harry's incredibly hot father.

and Remus was practically Harry's uncle, along with his long-time boyfriend, Sirius,

"So you're the Moony Harry is always talking about." He chuckled, blushing embarrassingly at the nickname.

"Moony was a nickname from High School, but Remus is difficult for Harry to pronounce so we went with that to make it easier."

You smiled, Harry was a very smart kid for his age.

"so.. James, is he-?"

"single? yeah, he chased after his highschool crush for about seven years at our boarding school, and once she finally gave in they got married quickly. but she eventually realized that she didn't like James that way, and had a thing for our close friend, Mary. so they broke off, luckily it wasn't a nasty divorce but Mary wasn't ready to take on the burden of a child, so James took Harry and now he lives with us."

Remus quickly explained before realizing that was probably a ton to drop onto you all the sudden.

"i-.. sorry, i didn't mean to drop that all on you at once."

"it's alright, and i'm sorry for James."

"he's alright now, the divorce took a large blow onto all of us, since... you know.."

"from the outside it looked perfect, didn't it?"

"couldn't have explained it better myself."

He smiled, sipping on his tea.

"besides, i think he's got his eye on someone."

"oh really? who?" that was a selfish question.

"you."

"w...what?"

you deadpanned, thinking he was joking.

why hasn't he said he was kidding?

where's the punchline?

"he wont stop bloody rambling about you, Y/N."

"what?!"

"yes! he wouldn't stop talking about how you had these braided pigtails two or three weeks ago and how adorable you looked-"

his rambling about James' minute obsession with you faded into the background as you attempted to process-

James, James Potter, James Fleamont Potter, your favorite students father.

likes you, his sons Kindergarten teacher who probably has black circles under her eyes because she barely sleeps anymore cause she stays up and thinks about him-

"Y/N!"

"WHAT?"

Remus broke you out of your thought jail.

"i said that you need to set something up with him, because i know you like him too and i cant keep being the monkey in the middle and trying to get you both to finally wake the fuck up and date eachother!"

You'd never heard Remus so insistent, he was always so calm and collected.

"Remus... i've never asked anyone out before."

"And? it's really not that difficult."

you sighed, pinching your nose bridge softly.

"fine, fine. I'll talk to him Monday."

and you dreaded Monday, but it also couldn't come soon enough.

after finishing up your classes for the day, you walked Harry to James.

"Hey.. Y/N."

"James."

"Daddy!" Harry went running to James, gripping onto his leg with all of his toddler force.

"He did great today, as usual."

"That's great to hear..."

You accidentally stared into his eyes for moments longer than you should have, but it didn't feel awkward.

"Y/N, I have something i need to tell you."

"i have something i need to tell you too..."

"I like you, alot."

you blushed furiously, why wasn't this easy?

"i-i-i like you too.. alot."

"would you... want to go out for dinner, sometime?"

"I'd like that."

"FINALLY!" shouted an exasperated Harry.

[purerehua]

im so sorry i could find any kind of a request rules thing anywhere so feel free tk just ignore this if need be but could you write for gunwook where him and reader nearly break up but it has a happy ending💘💘

inlove with a ghost

pairing ⇆ zb1 park gunwook x reader

genre ⇆ angst ; hurt with comfort ; non-idol au ; near breakup

wc ⇆ 1.3k

cw ⇆ i'm not that good at angst read at own risk, cursing, wook is not rlly a good bf oops, but he could be!!

two hours.

two hours have passed since gunwook promised he was on his way, and fifteen more minutes since you've sent three follow up messages asking where he is. you are currently debating washing your face and changing back into sweatpants as it seems like your boyfriend had no intention of showing up.

the initial plan was for gunwook to pick you up at your place around four, you two would walk around, and decide on a place to eat afterward. and this will be the first time you'd see him in person after two long weeks of his busy schedule taking up most of his time.

that is if he even shows up.

you're giving him another five minutes. another five minutes and you swear if he isnt here by then you're changing into sweats and taking a nap.

a minute goes by, another,, another,,, another,,,,

four minutes should've been enough.

in a huff you dejectedly slip off your nice shoes that you happened to clean just for today, the purse that you literally never wear on a normal occasion, and the hairclips you dug through your accessory drawer to find. you throw all three somewhere around the room hapzardly, not wanting to see the evidence of your efforts to look presentable for the date anymore.

ten minutes have passed since then, and true to the internal promise you made to yourself, there you lay. face first on your bed, softly sobbing into the pillow.

a click alerts you and causes you to sit up, and you find gunwook at the entrance to your room holding your shoes, hairclips, and purse.

"y/n?"

silence.

you turn away from him, then a beat passes and you feel the bed dip under his weight and the sheets rustle quietly.

"y/n." he tries again, softer this time. and you can basically hear the apology in the way he says your name.

"don't say sorry gunwook, i know you are." you mumble quietly.

gunwook apparently has nothing to say to that as he doesn't respond, and if you weren't so hurt right now you'd get up to get a look at his face. wanting to see what emotions would plague it. would his eyebrows pinch together? would the corners of his lips tremble downwards ever so slightly?

you sigh as you speak the next words. "i think we should call it."

"...what do you mean? call what?"

"this. our relationship."

you finally situate yourself to face him properly, and you were so spot on with his facial expression you scared yourself with how well you knew him.

"what? y/n i—"

a breath. he takes a breath, to calm himself you'd guess.

"y/n. don't say things like that, okay? i'm so so sorry. i'll make it up to you i swear."

"thirteen."

"what?"

"thirteen times, you've done this."

gunwook finally understands and mutters under his breath, cursing at himself and squeezing his eyes shut before groaning.

"shit, y/n. i didn't know."

"thirteen times i've asked to see you and you were either late or bailed on me. gunwook i'm your partner. i shouldn't need to have to make appointments just to see you!"

"y/n, i'm busy... you know that. it's not that you're not important but i try!"

"i know you're busy! and i know you try. but you can't expect me to be okay with all of this nothing you're giving me."

he's taken aback and it shows. nothing? that can't be true. he might not be the best at prioritizing you but he certainly doesn't give you nothing. right?

you shift due to the bed not being occupied by gunwook anymore, and you watch him stand with his hands on his hips like a father about to scold you. you would laugh if you weren't on the verge of bursting into sobs.

"that's not true. no, i can't— why would you say that? i text you every morning, and i try to keep you updated with what i'm doing and you know. i'm trying here okay? please just..."

you stand, directly placing yourself infront of gunwook and taking his hands.

"gunwook, i love you. you know that but, i can't be in a relationship that stands still."

"y/n stop, don't speak like that."

tears sit at the edge of his eyes, threatening to spill and yours start doing the same.

"i know you have alot of things on your plate, okay? i know how badly you want to keep me and all of those things at the same time, but i know you can't manage it."

you squeeze his hands, and gunwook's bleary and tear-soaked eyes find yours again before you continue to speak.

"this is already affecting the both of us, and i know you don't want to choose so i will do it for you. we need to break up."

"no no no y/n, stop."

his eyes flutter shut again and it's your turn to be taken aback when gunwook starts lowering himself to the ground. you grab his arms, anticipating that he would fall but you're mistaken as his knees hit the wooden floor with a thud and his hands release yours in favor of gripping at the sides of your sweats.

"i can't. 'm sorry but i can not let you go. i'll do better i swear just— let me try again. don't do this to us."

his words come out shakey and stuttered, he loses his breath multiple times inbetween words and the mere idea of him hurting like this makes you hold back gasps of your own as hot tears spill down the curve of your cheeks.

"gunwook..."

you can't, it hurts too much to be with someone who's basically never there. to be inlove with a ghost.

"please." and a tear gathers itself at the corner of his lip.

he's begging, he's placed himself below you physically and emotionally. you can feel his desperation from the grip he has on your sweats. you can't bear to watch it and at the same time you can't look away, unable to shake the conflicting thoughts of what ifs from your head.

"i promise y/n, i promise."

"don't give me empty promises gunwook, you know i hate that."

"they're not empty. i promise, with my whole being i'll be better. just don't leave me."

you continue to stare at him, absentmindedly chewing on your lip anxiously. you were already tired, this was making you even more tired, you just wanted to end things and move on and be done with it and be free from all the feelings you were feeling and—

"y/n."

your thoughts are cut short by a call of your name, and as your eyes come back into focus you realize gunwook has let go of your sweats in order to grab your hand.

he brings your pointer to his lips slowly, and his places a delicate kiss on it, and you melt on the spot. his kisses are so small. if you closed your eyes you could pass it off as breeze passing by, as though he wasn't actually there and it was your mind playing tricks on you. but he was there, with your own two eyes you could see the equal parts of affection and regret he placed on your fingertips. it hurt so bad but you needed it, you needed this. for him to be there, infront of you, loving you.

you could give him another chance as long as he loved you like this again.

"okay."

"okay?" gunwook squeezes your hand, which lingers just by his chin he lowers it from his lips.

"i'll stay. but we have to talk about this, properly. okay?"

he stands up, startled but hopeful.

"yes, of course. i'm sorry y/n."

"i know."

his lips quirk sadly at that, but atleast he knows this isn't the end for you.

atleast he knows that he's still yours, and he'll strive hard to keep it that way.

a/n ⇆ this is long overdue i'm afraid :( just been having no motivation also school likes to keep me busy so. anyway here!! i don't know if i'll be posting consistently again but i'll do my best... just like gunwook!!

[cherubnthechaoschoir]

UP IN YOUR ARMS (PROLOGUE) -Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the begining of it all tasted like whiskey and ciggeretes. But smelled of the interrogation room.

a note from Lucy: Helllooooo my lovely Joel Miller enthusiasts! i'm here again, and so are you, with yet another joel au series. this time with a historical twist. wiil it be completely historically accurate? probably not? are we here anyway because its joel fucking miller? yes. yes we are. fair warning, some dark contant will be in later chapters, so if that isnt your cup of rosey lea, feel free to scroll away. if it is, then sit back, relax, enjoy a dry martini and some blues or jazz music on vinyl, and lets have a wild time. Also, a huge thank you is due to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for convicting me to post this. Love you cherub! xxx

playlist

wc: 912 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Joel is in his 40s), allusions to Smut, smoking, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, being arrested, interrogation scene, references to violence, ww2 references, probably an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged.

series m.list | m.list

“Okay,” Detective Granger sighs opposite you, “Let’s try this again.”

Your knee bounces rapidly under the chrome metal table. If it weren't screwed to the floor it would surely rattle with your antsy movement. Your eyes fall to your lap, the dress you wore tattered with a mix of blood, dust and the smell of Joel’s aftershave. A smell you wish you had with his physicality.

“Please state your name for the record.” He asks. Again. From the moment they put you in cuffs, shoved you in the back of a cop car, and brought you up to the station, you had not uttered a word. Maybe you were scared, or maybe it was the principle of the fact. But the idea that Joel was a few rooms over – not at arm's length – it made you yearn for his touch. To be under the rough pads of his fingertips once more. Weather it be in a grimy motel room, or even the fucking Canary Club back in the cesspool of Boston. 

But you sighed, knowing you aren't going home anytime soon without giving them something. Joel told you to spin it. Tell them the truth with the twist he promised would work. Leave you unscathed. 

So you tell them your name. And then your occupation once they ask for that too; “Singer.” 

The detective looks at his co-worker, raising his brow. He nods back at him, believing you. If only you could unleash the insults that curl and cinder at the tip of your tongue. 

“Okay,” Granger tips his head to the side in acknowledgement of the fact your answers are the truth. What leverage would you have to lie if the very thing you are about to spill is an ever so slight twisting of the truth?

You watch with unblinking eyes as he places a black and white picture upon the table, between you and his now folded hands, “Care to tell us who this is?” 

It’s Joel. You knew they knew that. They just need to confirm their suspicion for the record. For the jury. The court. Your impending trial. So you take a second to study it, hold back a smile at the very sight of his broad shoulders, his tarnishes, creased dress shirt that clings to him like a second skin you wish to ravish him off. Even in the stale air of an interrogation room, through the captured image of a blurred mugshot, he makes the fire in your loins kickstart. Memories of joyrides, money, sex, motel sheets and speakeasy rendezvous. 

You give them a nod, sitting back in your seat.

“Who is he?”

“It’s Joel Miller. ‘Says it right there.” You tap the mugshot with your index finger to prove a point, kissing your teeth with a smug smile. “Or can you pig’s not read?” Venom spills from your words like maroon wine from a shattered glass. 

Detective Granger bites his tongue, leaning forward over the table, hands grasping the lip of it as he stands up, knuckles bleached white under his own grip. 

“Don’t think I ain’t above sending you to a cell with a shiner to your pretty lil’ nose, Doll.” He glared. It didn't seep any deeper than skin though. Didn’t rattle your bones that way Joel’s voice would when he called you a pretty ditzy thing that one time. If he were here the detective's teeth would be splattered across the tile of the floor for saying that. Daring to call you what he did, turning it into something that made your lip curl in disgust. 

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr, Detective.” You pouted, tilting your head at him, doe eyed, sarcastic innocence wrapped around your tongue’s words.

His fist descended down upon the table with a slam, making you flinch. Much to your own dismay. “Just answer the damn question!” 

“Was he your boyfriend?” 

“No.”

Joel was no mere boyfriend. 

He was your lover. Your life. Your glue that mended cracks seen by no other. The man that undressed you and wrapped you up in his warmth. His Texan drawl. Unravelled you between your thighs. Made you lust for anything he did. He was air in your lungs, the smell of cedarwood and musk. Metallic blood on your collarbone and gravel under a cars worn in tires. He was the leather of your car seat. The Egyptian cotton of your sheets. 

But this was where the lie began…

“He was my jailor.” 

Detective Granger’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, your eyes finding him behind the wisp of your lashes. The glassy shine of a tear slipping from your waterline. He furrowed his brow, his thin lips pressing into a thin line below his bushy moustache that curled at the ends. The nostrils of his bulbous nose flared and his jaw ticked under the clenching of his teeth. Once more, you looked into your lap at your folded hands.

He sighed once more, adjusting his grey suit trousers to sit down, holding his tie to his beer belly as he did so. “Can you tell us what happened? Leading up to the crime?” His voice was softer and he winced at the sound of your sniff. How you were so timid all of a sudden like a deer in headlights. 

You nodded, swallowing your own saliva, the walls of your oesophagus grating together like coarse sandpaper. And then you spoke. “I met him when I was living in Boston.”

[dream-bandit]

THANK YOU GUYS . Cringe culture is so dead but the demons get to me sometimes i get scared 😢

OKAY. Warrior cats au Anyone h ave name suggestions bc since it alters from WCs world building a bit i dont know if i should use the name. I am breaking so many wc rules here and idc

Okay so here, each clan is a lot bigger than the ones in the books. Like a whole city population with a lot of forest ground.

Mr oz (dont have a name for him) Is a warrior whos been around for a good while. He mentored both hannah, a somali cat (NAME REC PLEASE) and beau, Nightpaw but maybe his warrior name becomes Nightcatcher, maybe also a black Cornish Rex? hed also have blue eyes and hannah would have yellow.

Lunia was a sort of leader-medicine cat thing, new role i came up with , being really connected with starclan or stuff. dreamclan.? Not the exact leader, Abraham is, but is kinda moreso the spiritual leader and despite not fighting TOO MUCH everyone holds her in high respect across all clans

Migo wasnt an apprentince really but just a helper for her, maybe she can be a little mouse or something that lunia conjured/tamed with magic (yes magic will exist here because Im not restricting myself to wc rules IM BEING SILLY AND HAVING FUN) But because of her duties she didnt have time to hang out like they used to before lunia got into her role. Migo wants to remove her magic so she can just stay with her forever as a normal medicine cat and not have to go out and risk her single life in the most dangerous battles. Because she has magic shes really strong but also it makes her a huge target for cats against the clans, if she dies then it could risk the entire multiple clans relationship since they no longer have a common leader

Migos attempt at stealing her magic kindaa work out bc she has really fucked up magic powers now that require sacrifices to work or something❤️, perhaps all the power is in a special item... like maybe a bone/tooth from lunia on a collar , but in their final battle Lunia seals her SOMEWHERE and she disappears in the process. Lunia wanted to forgive Migo and go back so she never told anyone that the Nightmare king and her were the same person, she only said that something captured the little mouse.

So the Nightmare King is a sort of rodent/canine/monster thing trapped somewhere in the dark forest or something (idk i never read the arcs that focus on the dark forest and i dont plan to!this is my au i get to make my own logic no one correct me okay !!)

The loss of Lunia hit mr ozs team hard (hannah and beau were already warriors by this point) and they go try to destory a remnant of the nightmare kings weapon or something (since lunias tooth would be the hourglass equivalent. mr oz has it hidden somewhere because he doesnt trust the clans leader with it) Oh also mr oz turned down an offer to be deputy of all the clans .

Um more world building. because im coming up with stuff as i write this post. Theres like a main head leader for all the clans(branches) which is Royce, its just the deputy-leader system but it applies to all clans instead of just one.i guess

ALSO !! Astrid is Royces apprentince, its rare for the main leader to be a mentor so it means royce sees a lot of potential in her. i think she built her own little wheel thing to get around easier because she still wants to be a warrior cat / be able to participate in battles. Royce sees her as 'the next Lunia' and astrid isnt totalllyyyy on board with that but still she doesnt want to miss the chance to prove herself

OH ALSO ! Hannah lore.. I think she was a barn cat before Nightpawfound her one day when he was sneaking out of camp. They both hit it off and become really good friends and nightpaw wants to invite her to the clan and hannah agrees because she wants to be with him and it seems cool to her. Nightpaw confesses to oz about meeting her and while hes mad, he agrees to mentor her because no one else wants to mentor a random barn cat

Okay so then after nightcatcher and the others go to the gnorfs to try and destroy the nightmare kings weapon (the gnorfs can be beavers....) Nightcatcher gets a bit corrupted and over time it corrupts him fullly, it. makes him bitter and hateful. He tries to stay through it but a bit after hannah getes pregnant he leaves her and then the entire clans in general, he becomes a rouge and he wanders into the dark forest because he feels the nightmare king calling him from there. mr oz is really upset with it and checks in constantly with hannah to make sure shes doing alright and to be able to comfort each other.. Mr oz never had a mate so he saw them both as his own children kind of

one day hannah just cant take it anymore and she goes out by herself to try and find nightcatcher and they eventually come across eachother but she sees how he got corrupted and he fights her to go back, but doesnt touch her physically because he doesnt want to hurt her he just wants her to get away from him and the path he chose

hannah runs off but before going back to the clan area she gets found by some humans and they take her in and care for her. Shes kinda trapped there now but she tries to make the most of it there

She gives birth to zoey and theyre really close but then hannah dies due to illness around the time zoey is old enough to be an apprentince. Hannah never told her about the clans and all that but occasionally some warrior cats came to the farm theyre on to nab some herbs and stuff so theyve encountered them.

then one day the night hunter comes to where her and her owners are and maybe he attacks them or something, taking quite a bit of the livestock there. MAYBE Hm.. Okay so then zoey tries fighting him off and it doesnt go to well for the night hunter because he realizes thats his child and he doesnt want to hurt her and then he merges with the shadows and leaves quickly when the humans come running out. NOW EITHER zoey is upset that he killed a lot of the livestock and just wants to go out and do something else so she becomes a rouge before getting adopted into a clan, OR orrr her owners see the claw marks on the livestock and the blood on zoey and assume shes the one who attacked them and that shes too feral and agressive to be a pet for them so they throw her out </3 Forcing her to have to go out and hunt for herself. Eventually she saves the main kids while theyre. just barely apprentice age becase they snuck out to save cooper from something and since they were still kits they coudlnt defend themselves all too well so zoey saves them yahhh OKAY. Thats enough for this post i think/ OH BUT ALSO YEAh zoey wants revenge on the night hunter for taking away the only sembelance of family she had left yipeeee

[deepinlinlie]

i dint have a title for this

ailie zombie apocalypse au cause im trying to find stuff to post

dont know anything abt azaa? learn here 🔗

disclaimer: i dont write. this isnt supposed to be good or anything i just wanna get my ideas out of my dms

wc: 202, im too lazy to write more

expanding on this:

a week later while attempting to find food in a gas station, aiden passes by a small mirror, noticing something on her arm. a small scratch peaking out from under her rolled up sleeve. the blood was dark, almost black. it was scarred over and not fresh at all. a few days at least. it looked infected and aiden wasnt sure how she missed it.

lin lie found her still standing in the same place where he left her. she turned to him, pulling her sleeve up and showed him the scratch.

he froze. aiden just stared.

"its a few days old."

that didnt make sense. aiden shouldve turned ages ago. whats keeping her normal?

💫🐉.

Scared. Concerned. Dreading.

It's like static filled his ears.

Lin Lie grabbed her arm, glaring at the scratch like if he stared at it long enough it would disappear. As if that would ever happen.

His hand trembles in a way he hasn't felt since he lined up at the blocks for his first track meet. But the circumstances were different. He wasn't anxious about tripping or placing dead last.

Aiden was infected. She was infected and he couldn't do anything about it.

Should he say it? Throw his confession of love into the air while they have the time? Aiden could turn any second and he would be left with the choice of whether to kill her or leave her behind.

The thought of letting her bite him crosses his mind while Aiden watches uncomfortably.

She flicks his forehead, yanking her arm away.

"You didn't hear me."

Lin Lie just stands there, rubbing his forehead. That flick hurt way more than usual.

"I said it was a few days old. I don't think I'm actually infected."

"You shouldn't be so sure."

She crosses her arms, chapped lips pulling into a scowl. "What? Do you want me to be infected?"

☆ ‎

wrote this for pahsy and tina who are both the number #1 azaa and ailie fans with no content. love you guys

[xamvjay]

|Video call sesh - Armin x afab!reader|

**WARNINGS: contains smut, explicit language, and sexual themes. MINORS DNI although I know yall horny out there reading it**

The picture above is NOT MINE and goes to the rightful credited owner.

All characters mentioned below are NOT MINE and belong to the Original Creator/Author/Illustrator.

This piece is a work of fiction and is pure imagination and is not real and does not involve in the original story/timeline.

Genre: smut, romance,

cw: afab!reader, college au, thiskindasucks, sorry about the long ass zero activity, phone sex, dom!afabreader, sub!arminarlet, not proofread, no you didn't see me change pics

A/N: YALL this too waayy too long (procrastinated like crazy) but damn yall really like armin- but i mean he deserves it. im glad this got a lot of attention although this isnt my best/fav work. anyways enjoy~

wc: 4.2k sheesh---------------------------------------------------------

I just couldn't sleep. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but every once of exhaustion just happen to leave me the moment my back hit the mattress. Staring at the ceiling for as long as I could remember, weird patterns and swirls started to form in this pitch blackness of a room. I kicked of the blanket in frustration and kept tossing to both sides hoping the coolness of the pillow could lull me to sleep. Not working. Turning to switch on the small beige lamp that sat at the center of my nightstand, I grabbed the phone that was charging.

“Hm, who should I bother at this time?” I questioned myself as I swiped up to see the enlarged numbers displayed in front of me to show how late it was already. It was half-past two in the morning and still, no signs of sleep were showing. Hovering on the white outlined app that resembled a polaroid camera, I decided to click on it knowing it was a bad idea. ‘Great, now I totally won’t sleep today.’ I thought to myself mindlessly as I went away, doing the usual – infinite scrolling and hitting rock bottom. Sudden thought arose in my smart head as I went to check the people who were online. And lo and behold it was Armin.

He was that one geeky nerdy student that you barely ever saw him socialize with and was always alone with a book in his hands, reading away. After several group projects and being enamoured by his adorable self I decided to exchange ids. funnily he didn’t have an account and after countless bothering he finally gave in and reassured that he would be making an account and have his id. Grinning at the idea I clicked on his profile once again and saw that he had ten followers. Going through the list I noticed the majority were people not from our college and seemed like it was either his family or random strangers. One particularly caught my eye, it was a girl who sported a similar innocent, rather simple appearance and enjoyed rather few hobbies, similar to Armin.

My eyes glided over the bio-status she had written on her page, and it said ‘Armin Arlet’ coupled with emojis. But the emojis had a rose and a teddy bear. Interesting. Who was she exactly? Scrolling down to see her images that had a couple of selfies wearing different outfits and each had glasses on her face. Some were with friends, family, pets, adventures, and Armin. Armin? ‘Woah okay so they must be childhood friends or something’ I wondered. “Or girlfriend,” I spoke out into the dark as I stared at the ceiling once again. For some reason, that thought bothered me.

Armin being in a relationship? I didn’t enjoy that idea. A flicker of jealousy was igniting inside me. Him having a partner while I didn’t annoy me for sure. Staring at the photo where they both sat together with an ocean behind them and a pretty sunset. I started to notice how cute the girl was. She was wearing a white wool cardigan with a pink frock and a white tie on the waist. Her hair was done in pretty, tight curls, and she had this cool brown complexion as her bright brown orbs were staring at him. Her glasses were slightly down the nose bridge and her smile was so bright like her eyes.

My eyes then went to look at him and he had a very neutral to a more relaxed expression. He wore also dark-framed square glasses. His blonde hair was neat yet messy possibly from the wind. A navy-blue v-neck sweater was worn, and a white-collar shirt was exposed. His eyes. A beautiful shade of baby blue that was staring straight at the camera. It didn’t hold any specific emotion, but it felt like it twinkled at the sunset scenery. He looked so beautiful. Clicking out of the selfie, I scrolled up fast to the start of her page and read her username. @Claireuwu. So, it’s Claire huh. A cute name for a cute girl I must admit.

Sighing I went to check my unread DMs sent by my boisterous yet fun buddies of mine a thought popped to my head. Tapping on his profile as I thought of a response to message him with. I wondered what he was doing this late in the morning. Maybe we could hold an intellectual conversation like we did last time when we were making our way to the next workshop.  

Me: Yo, you busy?

Hello, no I’m not busy. :ArminArlet

‘Pretty formal, even during texting.’ I chuckled at his cute trait.

Me: well okay can I call you?

At this time? It’s too late, I cannot talk right now. Sorry. : ArminArlet

Me: Hm, funny coming that from you.        Whatre you doin up this late?        Thought you got sum curfew to follow lol

A couple of seconds passed as I waited for his response.

 Hey! I like to have an organized schedule. And me being up this late should not concern you. I will leave now. Have a good night: ArminArlet

My eyes shot up as I saw him go offline immediately. What the hell? Not even waiting for a reply back from me? Nope. I HAVE TO think about something. ‘Think! Think!’ I chanted in my head like a mantra.

Me: Heyy waittt dont go away        Yk I saw this news that this person uhh think his name was Sir Syukuro? Ik you adore him        Dont rlly remember his last name but he finally got a nobel prize alongside with sum1 else over uhh       OH physical modelling of Earth’s climate. Sir Klaus and Sir Parisi is involved

I nibbled on my bottom lip hoping that he would come back online and read my messages. A few minutes passed and so did my patience. I was seconds from calling him directly until I saw him typing. Yes! Oh, the relief of not appearing as an irritating person who disturbs someone with uncalled actions.

Really? I must look that up right away. Thank you for letting me that know. Although how did you know that Sir Syukuro Manabe was one of my favoruite physicst? : ArminArlet

Me: Hahaha glad I have your attention.        Uhm about that yk theres sumthin called paying attention?       Yea thas what I did wit you armin

Ah, I see. Thank you for listening to my rambles. I suppose. And what exactly is ‘yk’. I’m sorry I’m not familiar with these… slang or whatnot. : ArminArlet

Me: I could explain this and a lot more if we could just talk yk?

Fine. Since you are persistent with it, I will allow a maximum of 5 minutes. I cannot raise suspicion in my family.: ArminArlet

Did he say, family? Does he live with his family? That’s kind of fun not going to lie. I live in my own single-bedroom apartment – catering to college students that were closer to the campus. I guess he lives kind of far so he’s always seen rather extremely early on the campus.

Me: Yes sire. I shall call you now.

Wait! Not yet, I need to do…somethings then it’ll be safe for me to talk. I will give you, my signal.: ArminArlet

Something? Hmm. What could that be? I remember all these efforts that I had to put up through when texting my exes at late night during my high school stages. What a hassle. Glad I got a taste of my freedom and peace from that toxic household.

Me: alright whenever youre ready

Moments passed and then I got the green signal. ‘Perfect.’ I thought. the sense of winning washing over me. I never tried this hard for anyone just to come to my terms but having that done for Armin was an interesting one. A few rings went by and at the fifth one, he finally picked up.

ArminArlet joined the call.

Me: Hey, there buddy, you okay?

Armin: Uhm…yes. Yes, I am. Please make it fast.

Me: Okay damn. Uh, yea before that did you have your dinner?

A couple of silence and shuffling passed.

Armin: Uhm, yes, I did have my dinner. And what about you?

Me: If you considering snacking dinner then yea I did.

Armin: Snacking? Did you skip dinner? That’s not a proper nutritious dinner. Please try to have a better breakfast before today’s class.

Me: Do I hear worry? *laughs* don’t you worry about me hun, I’m alright, and yes, I will take breakfast for today’s class.

Armin: I-I… wasn’t being concerned! I was just acting like any normal person would do.

Me: Sure, whatever you say. That’s what my ex used to say. *snorting a bit*

Another wave of quietness wafted through the speakers until he spoke up with curiosity.

Armin: …What happened with them? Y-y-you don’t uhm have to answer this if it...makes you uncomfortable!

He spoke out with such care, caution and interest.

Me: Ah, don’t worry it’s quite fine. That son of a bitch slept with a girl I used to have beef with. And had the nerve to dump me. A 2-year long relationship went down the drain. And to be honest he was kind of a walking red flag that I decided to ignore. 

Armin: …I’m really sorry about what happened. I don’t understand why he would do that with someone who’s really smart and gorgeous. Wai-

Me: Gorgeous? *laughing* Did you just admit that I’m gorgeous? Thought I was too intimidating for you?

Armin: Uhm… uh I mean in a good way! You look really cool and all. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I promise.

He stuttered out as fast as he could. How cute.

Me: Awe, thank you *smiling* I’m glad you find me good-looking. Anyways enough about me, what’re you doing up this late?

Armin: Uhm…shoot, I was just busy with some things. Yeah, that’s all.

Me: That doesn’t sound as convincing as it may sound to you *laughing softly*

Armin: I promise you I was just busy with some important stuff that’s all.

Me: Sure *elongating the pronunciation* whatever you say, hun. Well, how’s your family? Claire?

A sigh was pushed out from him, assuming it was a sigh of relief.

Armin: Oh, yeah, they are fine too. Claire’s fine t- Wait! How do you know her?!

Me: Hm? Oh, her yea I came across her from your followers list.

Armin: Oh…what exactly were you doing in my…page?

Me: Ah I was just curious. I’m interested in your whereabouts and connections since you are really private.

Armin: Uh…yea I see. That’s kind of strange but alright.

Me: Ah, sorry I tend to do that with people I’m interested in. My b-.

Armin: Wait did you say interested? You are interested in…me?

Me: Bingo. I am. I hope you are too just as how much I am.

The stillness was floating in the air as I waited for him to say something back.

Armin: Uh…I’m not that interesting I p-promise. Please don’t w-waste your time on m-m-me…

Me: Shh, it’s alright hun, I like you for you. I’ve always found you fascinating and caught my attention every time you were present. Heck, you were on my mind even when you’re not there. It’s crazy.

Armin: …I’m…I can’t believe. I…

Me: It’s okay, take a breather. You don’t have to feel the same way. It’s totally fine. I just felt the need to say it *smiling sadly*. What was is it that we wanted to talk about origin-

Armin: No! Wait I uhm…I really do like you too. I don’t know I never really felt like this but I feel warm inside. You m-make me feel t-things…*whimper noises*

I was quite stunned by his confession. He liked me back? Never thought in a million years would I hear those words coming from his cute lips. I sighed in relief as I felt another wave of victory wash over me. Smiling at his pretty whimper noises I decided to explore furthermore.

Me: so…you like me too? You can’t even imagine how happy I am hearing you admit the same feelings I feel for you.

Armin: Y-yes. I really do l-like you…

Me: I’m glad babe but are you okay there?

Armin: Oh! Yes, I’m fine. Yes, I am. Oh, s-

A sudden cut of noise occurred as I looked back at the screen. He muted himself. Someone must’ve come over at this time. I decided to hang about and moved around to find another comfortable position.

Armin: Hey…sorry I had to uhm abruptly mute because my pet dog came over so suddenly it scared me. I h-had to stop him from barking. *laughs nervously* yeah, really sorry.

Me: *laughing* it’s quite alright babe. So…what exactly were you doing at such time?

Armin: Uhm...nothing really…stuff.

Me: Armin, baby please tell me, I won’t repeat myself. What were you doing?

A few whimpering noises were heard and a nervous chuckle until he spoke once again.

Armin: I-I was on your page…

Me: Go on.

Armin: ….looking at your posts, your selfies.

I smirked at the idea of him being on my page and stalking my posts. I clicked and went to my page as I asked him further questions.

Me: And were they nice?

Armin: Uhm yes, they were…really pretty.

Me: I’m glad, what did you like the most?

Armin: T-the one where you w-w-ore bunny ears…

He spoke so softly, nervously as his sweet voice faded away. I swiped around to finally find the post he was talking about. Hmm, not a bad taste. It was the photo where I was having a pretty shitty day and decided to dress up while I was high. I was sporting a photo where I lay on my chest on the bed in front of the camera. My bangs framed my face as the black playboy-styled bunny ears settled on my head. Loose curls flowed down my black t-shirt-covered back. Almost unattached buttons were done so a good amount of cleavage was exposed. Almost seemed that it was flowing out of the shirt. Inside the shirt, I wore a black halter-style swimsuit. My perfectly smooth ass was exposed to the camera too. Pretty legs that were covered in fish stockings were presented nicely too. Dark red lipstick was covering my beautiful lips. A tongue was stuck out showing the cute piercing I got on it.

‘Interesting choice.’ I thought once again. Noticed I was silent far too long as those cute whimpers brought me back to the present situation.

Me: What is it that you liked about it?

Armin: Uhm…e-everything. You looked…a bit more gorgeous.

Me: Awe baby thank you *smiling* well, what did that photo make you feel?

Quicker breathing was spotted coming from the receiver’s end as I waited patiently.

Armin: It i-it made me feel s-so many things…

Me: Like what exactly baby?

Armin: *a little moan escaped his mouth* I-it made me f-feel h-hot and painful d-d-own there.

He stuttered out with great difficulty. I smirked at the thought of his current situation. Poor baby. He needs some sort of relief. And I’ll help him.

Me: Can you switch to video call for me? I need to see you, so I can help you. I promise darling.

Armin: …D-do you promise?

Me: I promise baby.

A few moments passed as I looked at the request that came up on my screen. Accepting it, I adjusted my camera where a teasing amount of cleavage showed from my thin shirt. Seconds later the dark screen vanished, and his face popped on my screen. A disoriented look he was wearing.

His blond hair was flying everywhere, and his eyes were a bit red, but those beautiful blue eyes were so vibrant. The glasses sat wonkily as his nose bridge and cheeks were a pretty shade of pink. Parted lips as a wet muscle swiped over to moist those luscious lips. Earbuds were connected to his ear as he softly shook his head, probably removing those dirty scenes his head was mustering up.

I panned the camera to my face as I tucked my hair and smirked and bit my lip.

“Damn baby you look so good right now,” I whispered out. That puppy look of his was more visible as he pouted and the shade of pink turned darker. “T-thank you,” he whispered out too. “Could you show me the problem you were facing, hm?” A shy nod was done as he slowly went down to show a grey boxer. A large tent, no, a whole fucking campsite was donning there. It looked so hard and huge that I gulped at the scene. ‘Fuck that’s hot’ I mindlessly thought.

“It seems like a big problem babe. Could you remove those cute boxers of yours?” I spoke out after analysing that tasty scene. A hum was heard as his pale pretty hands went to remove the boxers and showed me his problem. ‘God, it’s so pretty,’ I gawked at it. There it was. The tip was flushed an angry shade of red and a large vein ran at the bottom of his dick. The tip was already leaking with a generous amount of clear pre-cum fluid and dribbled down to the base of his dick, connecting his balls.

“Baby, you got a pretty cock, did you know that before?” I spoke out softly as I kept a trained gaze on it. “N-No, not really…” Well good, no one was there to see him at this state and got the privilege to see the gem he holds. “Awe, well now you know. C’mon now, show me what you know.” I urged. “Uh…I don’t really know w-what to d-do, sorry…” Oh. Shocker. I mean it was expected of him, but this was fascinating. “Oh. Is that so? Well, let me guide you, okay?” A hum was heard again. Awesome. “So, do what I say accordingly if you want to feel maximum pleasure, alright?” Another hum was heard. “You gotta speak up baby, otherwise I won’t know.” “Ah! S-sorry, yes, I will follow accordingly…” A beaming grin appeared on my face as I stared at the screen.

“Good boy. Now I want you to wrap your pretty hands on that pretty cock of yours, okay? Start moving up and down and make sure to tease the tip.” As I finished my words he started to follow shortly to my advice. A few moans escaped his mouth as he did a continuous motion.

“Good boy, Now fasten up the pace just a bit,” Seconds later he started to go at a faster motion. The precum that was present now was slobbered over his pretty cock as it glistened in front of my eye. “Use your thumb to occasionally rub over the tip. Make sure you use your other hand to play with yourself.” I stated breathlessly. The scene displayed in front of me was just so fucking hot. Better than any porn I watched. More sweet noises were released from his fluttering lips and entered my ears. I relished the sight that was displayed in front of me.

His cock was reddened from the constant rubbing of the up and down motion. His hands started to slow down and let out a low grunt. “God, t-this feels s-so good…”. He faltered out followed by a small moan. “I’m glad you are enjoying this babe, c’mon quicken that pace.” Seconds later he followed the motion as I ordered him to do so. “Tell me, what are you imagining,” I whispered out as I bit my moan, feeling hot and bothered down there. “I-I ima-magine y-your uhm c-chest near my uh d-dick…and touching i-it.”

Oh. Oh wow. I hadn’t expected him to imagine something like that. This started to get me more excited. He’s got to have more kinks and deeper desires which I get to unravel and delve into his likes and dislikes. Maybe we have things in common and we can share them and enjoy them. “Go on darling.” I urged him impatiently wanting to hear the end of this imagination. “A-nd y-you thrust my dick in between them and…gosh this is embarrassing...” He let out with a quiet whine. “Hey, it’s not embarrassing. I’m learning to understand what you like or don’t like so we can further explore it with each other, next time that is. So please don’t be embarrassed for having preferences and desires, okay?” I reassured with as much as reasoning I could. I deeply wanted him to be comfortable with me and be able to share everything with me that is comfortable and not crossing his limit.

He panned the camera towards his face where he nodded and wiped something away from his eyes, what I presume are his tears. “T-thank you. I really appreciate it.” He spoke with a wobbly smile as he kept wiping his tears away. Giving a sad smile I motioned a half-hug where I put my phone to my chest and cradled it with my arms. After a few moments, I stopped and propped the phone on my blanket as I posed the same way I did in his favourite picture of mine. Smirking I motioned with my hand to keep the ball rolling. His eyes glistened as I felt the red tones forming on his youthful-looking cheeks. He nodded as he placed the camera view back to what now belongs to me. His moans kept reaching a new octave as I quickly reminded him. “Darling~ you can’t be too loud otherwise you will get caught now.” I spoke teasingly knowing he has no self-control over himself. “Oh y-yes s-sorry y/n…” coupled with some groans.

His hands went faster this time than before, probably gained some energy from the small rest when we shared a heartfelt conversation. More pre-cum leaked out and dribbled down and reached to the base of where his balls rested and now were covered by a slick of his juices. Getting lost in the view and the sweet sounds soothing my ears, an idea popped inside my head. I got on my knees and saw how my waist was only in view. I discarded my shirt and massaged my boobs. Going down again I spoke up “Hey sweetcheeks, have a look at what I’m showing.”

“Oh f-fuck, you ungh you have v-very beautiful uhh breasts.” He spoke out with great struggle. His tone sounded more pitchy, and his breath was significantly quicker than before. “Thank you~. I assume you are getting closer?” I questioned as I massaged my tits and pressed them together. “Y-yea-“and his response was cut short by a delicious revelation to me. a white spurt of cum jetted out from the tip and messily landed everywhere on his abdomen, milky thighs, and sheets. A louder moan was ripped out from his throat as he clenched his dick with his right hand.

That was a hot sight. “Mhm babe that looks so good. Wish that cum was on my chest though.” I spoke out in a daze light voice. My head imagined the scene right now and how I would have tasted them and kissed him, allowing him to taste how divine he was. Oh, there’s a great substitute for that. “Babe, scoop some of those precious cum on your fingers and stick it in your mouth. Show it to me while you’re at it.” I said laying on my back and holding the phone close to my face. A hum was heard as his slim fingers were coated by the slick juice and stuck it in his mouth that was drooling with saliva. A more satisfied moan was heard from him. it made me tad bit jealous that he got to taste himself and I couldn't. Well, I got to plan the next meet up as soon as possible which is today technically. “How’s the taste babe?” I inquired. “O-oh it tasted a bit tasteless but uhm it had a bit of sweetness to it. It wasn’t bad.” Hmph my turn better come up as soon as possible.

“Good, good. Well tell me how was it? Did you enjoy it?” I asked curiously. “Uhm oh yes! I felt really good and thank you for helping me w-with this.” He panned to his face where clearly showed his embarrassment and gratefulness. “That’s my job babe. I promise the moment the next time will be better when I’m there with you physically.” I smirked and let out a laugh. Noticing his tiredness and the time too I started to wrap up this amazing videocall I had experienced.

“Goodnight baby, I’ll see you today, okay? Rest well. You did well today” I spoke reassuringly as he let out a tired yawn and rubbed his eyes and nodded faintly. “Mngh, yes y/n. Thank you for today and night night”

I stared at him as he managed to fall asleep immediately. What a cutie. A few minutes later I ended the call and connected the phone to the charger. He’s so fucking adorable it kind of hurts. His feminine yet boyish looks are what caught my attention. Not to forget his smart intelligent brain that happens to solve critical problems in such a brilliant way, it was amazing. Well, I should go ahead and take a shower because that show he put up for me…was just extremely hot and gave me a problem.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

[quaranmine]

alright, stats time. numbers! percentages! analysis!

GO ME! i finished my writing challenge last night. though i have done them before, i have never had a 30 day streak--my longest was 11 days, previously.

NANOWRIMO "GOAL": 50k words in a month. lol nope i didn't even plan to do that but that's the perspective i'm putting the post in

MY GOAL: add 30k to IBW.

fail. i added 5.2k to IBW in the end, the equivalent of finishing just one chapter. basically, I completed 17% of my goal. not something I'm happy about but i did inevitably mostly get past a thing that was giving me trouble.

MY SECOND GOAL: add 30k aggregated to any projects

total word count: 21,366. that's techinically a fail but i'm not gonna count it because i reached 70% of my target wordcount AND THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!! 70 is a passing grade afterall :] if we want to put this in perspective of nano, i basically completed 40% of nano, which is great for a first-ever run (especially since i have never completed a 50k fic so far, let alone in a month. baby steps for me, i just do not write that quickly.)

MY THIRD GOAL: write something every day

SUCCESS! i did do that and i am very proud of it. it was shockingly hard sometimes. during the challenge i was like "i am never doing this again" and now literally less than a day after im like "hm i should do this again next year!" why am i like this? who knows!

So, let's look at other stats.

Number of fics worked on: four. (IBW, grumbot fic mainly, hitchhiker's au, and tumble town gothic)

Fanfic started and completed within the month: do you see no ghosts in me at all? (13,651 words). This means that ~64% of my time was spent on this fanfic, compared to any others (if we go by word count, as i don't remember which days specifically were used on this versus the others)

Average daily wordcount: 712 words. again, to reach the 30k goal i needed roughly 1k on average per day, so this is again about 70% of that. It is worth noting that my average for my last writing challenge in the spring was 548, so I did much better on average this month despite being forced to do it in a much longer streak. that's probably because the 0 wordcount days in the last challenge dragged the average down, so writing every day helped me a lot.

Lowest daily WC: 131

Highest daily WC: 1897

i think both of those were the same fic actually (grumbot fic.) the low wordcounts mostly represented lack of time, as i would stop writing whenever it got so late that i started falling asleep midsentence. however low wordcounts on IBW mostly represent lack of inspiration, except for the day 30, where it represented research.

all in all, i think it was a successful challenge. i'm still in writing mode and was already thinking about what i could do tonight, which is great because like...i am no longer beholden to this challenge but am still wanting to keep going (i'll just likely not force myself to do anything anymore if it's like 11:30pm and i havent done anything. i will just go to bed instead.)

the main lesson here is that i can Do Things when i want to really force myself to do, which is good because i often doubt my own abilities especially in connection with my writing. it's very personal compared to other stuff i do, so i very much love and appreciate everybody's support and kind reviews because i straight up would not be here or doing any of this without you. like i would have just gone back to hide under a rock lol.

i feel like completing these challenges gives me a lot more confidence in myself and my abilities, and gives me momentum to make consistent progress on my works even when things are a little rough. sometimes in writing you just Gotta Do It even if there isnt much inspiration, because it'll unlock the way for other scenes where you DO have inspiration.

now then. if someone can tell me why i was able to fully complete inktober for two years in a row, and pull off two of these writing challenges in one year, but CAN'T stick with actual responsible adult habits--

[skittleghosts]

Helloooo I really really really really loved your luffy SM AU and I was wondering if I could ask one for shanks with ( writing for soulmate ) and I am sucker for angst can it be angst but with a happy ending , like f reader thinks she isnt good enough for shanks so she decides she wouldn't meet him but both end up falling in love through messaging and then they meet one day by accident and-...... I should stop here 😂😂

Thank you so much of u made it 💕💕💕

Also is it ok if I request again cause I love SM AUs so much and i cant find alot of them and i have so many ideas ?

Oh hun you don’t understand how much this made my night hehehe thank you so much for enjoying it, I was really insecure about uploading it (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`). I’m a sucker for angst so I’ll try to absolutely destroy your heart right now with a passion (●’◡’●)ﾉ

And YES, of course you can request again there’s no restriction on how many times you can request hun, the more you do the more I’ll be happy to write for you( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ 

TW: self hate.

WC: 1711

ANGST

PART 2

Shanks x reader

You're in love and a crowd. That sums up the kind of person you are.

As a kid you lived a quiet life with your aunt at the outskirts of town. Your aunt was known as the town ghost simply because she’s a mute and didn’t have any friends or family expect for you to call her own.

Growing up, the house was always quiet. You did homeschooling instead of going to the local school because of the severe verbal and physical bullying you went through at your first year of elementary school. Your aunt noticed quickly and took you out and taught you herself not wishing for you to go through life the same steps as her.

However there was still some lasting affects from all the name calling from both the teachers and students and the fear of being touched again since the boys would kick you and the girls will tear your hair and clothes apart singing that's what you get for living with the ghost.

You didn’t understand why is everyone so hateful towards your aunt, when she has never even hurt a fly but you didn't think too much into it, ignoring them and just happy to be out from that nightmare.

Not having friends wasn't a problem since you learned quick how ruthless people can be, your aunt is all you needed, even if she was mostly at the beach staring endlessly at the sea awaiting for something to happen or someone to come. You still secretly wondered what's her tale.

When she's at home she would cook up the meals for the day and feed you than spent some time teaching you how to read and write, it was difficult at the beginning since she's a mute but everything went by smoothly once you got the hang of it. Once you're done with your studies she would then hand you a book to kill some time. It wasn’t much to some people however for you that’s home and it’s comfortable.

Later as years went by with the same routine, your aunt fell sick. It wasn’t serious at first but soon later she was bedridden. The town’s doctors refused to see her even when you and your aunt had enough money for emergencies, they kept repeating how this is what she deserved and it’s about time she become a real ghost.

It absolutely devastated your heart at the age of 15 not seeing how can someone still stay cruel to a dying woman. You then decided to pick up medical books, willing to learn how to cure your aunt. Hours and hours spent on learning, taking care of her and making medicine yourself for her.

Things started to get better, your aunt never looked more healthy. She even started eating more solid food without puking. You felt like all your hard work has finally payed off, she’ll soon be able to start walking again. You smiled at the thought.

Later that night you cried while you lay in bed grateful the worse didn’t come to pass.

Sniffing and wiping away your tears, you felt your arm’s tingle. Looking down at it, you saw something getting written. At first you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you, using tears to make you see unusual illusions, however once you saw what’s written you freaked out.

“Are you there?”

You scratched your left arm trying to get rid of whatever this is, completely not understanding what’s happening to you. Was it actual ghosts communicating with you? Countless of thoughts horrific than the last one crawled into your mind like bugs.

Seeing as the scratching did not work and all it left was a bloodied arm you hurried over to your aunt’s room just across the hall from yours. “Aunt Han! Aunt Han!” You know disturbing her sleep was rude especially to a women that’s still trying to recover, yet you couldn’t stop panicking.

Tears streamed down your face as you rushed towards your aunt. She woke up with a start, hearing you yell in the middle of the night came the worse to mind and it’s an intruder in the house.

It was proven that wasn’t the case when she saw you shoving your arm to her face. “Look! I don’t know what’s happening to me!” You cried out, hoping that whatever it was it wasn’t something deadly. You can’t die now when you are so close at saving your aunt.

Once your aunt has realized what’s happening fear flashed her eyes but she quickly neutralized her face.

Moving her hand to signal she said. “Don’t ever answer back.” You looked at her confused. That’s not the answer you were looking for and it just made you curious as to why she would say that to you. “Am I gonna die if I do?” You asked.

“No.” She signed. You wanted more answers but there’s an unspoken rule in this house. You don’t question everything she does and say, you just listen because that’s what’s best for you. You nodded your head, letting go of the matter.

After that night your aunt has turned cold.

She would constantly get anger at you for the simplest thing such as not putting enough salt in her soup even if there was enough of it. Throwing anything you gave her like gifts, blankets, plates on the floor. Throwing a tantrum every time you entered the room.

Cursing at you through sign language and calling you all types of heinous words that cut deep into your heart, bringing back that little girl in first grade.

You pushed pass her aggressive attitude to try and still cure her but with all that’s been happening your aunt is putting stress onto her body by all the screaming so she keeps getting worse by the day.

You didn’t understand why this was happening but you know for sure that it all started after you showed her your arm. So you kept it covered, afraid that it will trigger something more from your aunt.

Even when you felt the familiar tingling everyday on your arm. You kept repeating what your aunt said. ‘Don’t ever answer back.’ So you ignored it.

After 4 years of verbal abuse. Your aunt passes away. It happened during a bath you were giving her, you noticed how quiet she'd been and when you looked up it hit you that her time came. The emotions going through you that day was unexpected. You felt sad, relieved, and angry.

Angry at what? You weren’t sure it was a first for you but you knew you were so angry it overpowered your grief for losing your only family.

A year later you decided to finally unwrap your clothe around your arm. It was empty. Nothing new written today on your arms.

You went to the towns bookshop to get a book that could explain what's happening to your arm. On your way there, nothing changed, the town people still treated you like dirt. Because of this you started feeling disgusted by yourself.

You didn't like how people looked at you it was disgusting. You didn't like how they talked to you it was disgusting. How they tried to touch you or pass by you it was disgusting. Everything felt gross, you felt gross about your own skin.

Walking down the streets you heard the usual insults people throw at you and the looks they glare your way.

Nothing new.

Once you reached the bookshop there was a new worker that day. She was the first person to ever be nice to you, so you tried your luck and asked her if she knew anything about the writing on your arm.

She looked shocked, “You don’t know about soulmates?” Confused you told her no you never heard of that term before. She explained it briefly to you on how people around the world are born with soulmates and they communicate with each other through writing anywhere around their body.

You were astonished.

Such a blissful thing exist and you didn’t know about it.

No.

Your aunt didn’t want you to know.

You went home with two books that further explains the concept of soulmates. Before starting on the books, you went to shower, aggressively scrubbing your skin to the point where it's so sensitive to touch. You then washed your hair with the same roughness causing hair loss.

After dressing up neatly for bed, you took one of the books and started reading late at night with only a single candle lighting up. You felt the same tingling sensation on your arms.

You immediately lifted your arm up to see what’s written there.

‘We’re having another bonfire party tonight, got tons of drinks and lots of meat :)’

A party? You thought. You’ve never been to one since no one bothered to invite you but your so called soulmate seems to be going to ones a lot since it was his second party.

You took your pen from your stand and wrote back on your arm. ‘That sounds lovely.'

You expected an immediate response but nothing came in. Confused, you wondered if how you did it was wrong.

Then there it is, another writing appearing. ‘So you finally answered.' Somehow that statement got you blushing in embarrassment. ‘Sorry’ you replied truly guilty for not answering back all those years and also for answering when your aunt has told you not to.

You two spent the night getting to know one another. You learned his name which is shanks and how he’s a captain of the Red Hair pirates. Knowing he’s a pirate send a thrilling chill through your whole body making you feel for the first time an unknown emotion.

Years pass and now you're a 25 year old woman.

You still refuse to meet shanks even when he kept asking about your island or suggest a meet up you always changed the topic to something completely unrelated.

Meeting Shanks is not a good idea. You are sure if he knew who you are in real life he wouldn't want to be called your fated, he'll be disgusted just like everyone else.

So now you are wondering how the hell did he find you.

(Don’t get mad at me🧍🏾‍♀️I promise there’s a part 2, I wanted to write more about shanks meeting you and thought another part would be much better, hope you don’t mind (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ )

[actualbird]

hey here are some assorted marius/luke ideas that swam around in my head today

wc: 1.3k

contents: 2 of these r kindaaaa smut ideas (and they r marked in the subheader) but i dont put anything detailed explicit, read at ur own risk and choice ig

luke pearce's love language is beating up everybody in stellis who even looks at marius wrong

sorta comedy fic where everybody marius even offhandedly mentions is giving him a hardtime mysteriously ends up in the hospital like, the day after he brings it up.

nobodys dead! but after that person recovers, they keep a wide wide berth from marius, shudders to even think of crossing him again lest that terrifying red eyed force of nature comes back for them and finishes the job.

and marius is like Yeah, Okay, I Think I Know Who's Doing This because luke isnt subtle LMAO. marius is endeared that luke responds to his flirting by blushing and leaving the room immediately but anytime marius is like "ugggghhh, [insert poor shmuck] is really on my ass," luke's expression goes dark. next day, the said poor shmuck in the hospital from both shoulders dislocated, like luke is leaving injured dickbags on marius' doorstep much like a cat would do but this cat is a tad unhinged.

marius eventually confronts luke like "babe, i really appreciate it, but also stop, and can we kiss?" and then they kiss and luke promises to hurt ppl a little bit less.

.....just a smidge.

-

(kinda smut) au where marius is a model and luke is a photographer

comedy that turns into smut maybe because i cant stop thinking about SR Dreams Of Thebes. i want sexy hot model marius and every single photoshoot hes ever done has had him in some state of undress. when he accepts jobs hes like "can my tits be out? even just slightly?" and if hes told no hes like "awwww, boring! thanks for the offer but i'll pass."

luke is the photographer and hes a very good photographer that marius has worked with a LOT. because mc handles the projects luke does and is friends with marius and a lot of her projects just so happen to need a slutty mcthot, so they collab very often.

theyve worked together so much to the point that luke seems to be used to marius being Like That (gorgeous and on display and making bedroom eyes RIGHT AT LUKE and luke has to always remind him "eyes on the camera, not on me!") and marius is like WHYYYY WHYYYY DOESNT HOT PHOTOGRAPHER LUKE PEARCE SUCCUMB TO MY NUBILE CHARMSSSSS

he complains to mc and shes like there there ya big baby. and she pointedly does not tell marius that whenever a shot finishes up, luke goes home IMMEDIATELY, as he is very flustered. it's honestly impressive how unaffected luke makes himself seem because once marius is getting dressed luke is like "I HAVE TO GO" and mc has a suspicion that luke, er, lets out his frustrations the moment he gets home.

she does not tell marius because this is very entertaining. but also because these two are idiots and if theyre gonna get together, they should be the ones doing the work. shes setting up the situations already, the least they could do is actually talk smh

eventually they do talk. but in a convoluted setup where marius asks luke to do a, er, private photoshoot for him. cue sensual photography at marius' art studio (he still paints in this au) where marius starts off fully clothed!! but after every 10 pics hes like okay lets take this off and this off and thiiiiiissss

luke pearce: //horny grip

and then they bang about it

-

(kinda smut) marius: should i be turned on by that? probably not. will that stop me? definitely not.

smut fic. luke very viciously dispatches a person who tried to hurt marius and marius is like "well mark me down as scared and horny" and they bang about it----wait, hold up. i can do this. in my bodyguard au verse. penning THAT down in my possible extras fics HAHA.

but yeah luke is like "WAIT, WHY??? WHY IS THIS WHAT GETS U HOT AND BOTHERED??? (in addition to literally everything else that gets you hot and bothered, it's a very long list, like, luke could just be stretching in the morning and marius wants to pounce)." marius like "why r u complaining, u get my hot bod, i get ur hot bod, this is a win win situation" and honestly! luke cant argue with that!

and so they bang about it

-

it is nacho lucky day

comedy fic AGAIN sorta recycled from a fic i was writing for a prev fandom. marius is off to a movie date with luke when he gets kidnapped which, worrying!

but these kidnappers are hugely incompetent and marius is hugely just sorry for them and tries to tell them "guys, really, let me go. i can see you're not actually up for this and also, uh, not great at it! and i can help you guys out a little bit. but you should deffo let me go because i was on my way to a date and you do not wanna make my boyfriend mad. SERIOUSLY. IM TRYING TO SAVE YOU GUYS."

and the kidnappers r like nope not happening.

cue Luke Pearce Raven swooping in, knives blazing, and marius is like "BABE, NO, STOP, THEY DIDNT HURT ME AT ALL AND ALSO THEYRE STUPID" and luke is like "oh okay!" //drops the terrified kidnapper who he was holding up against the wall by his collar. luke whisks marius off to their date after a stern "dont you dare do that again" to the kidnappers.

and then marius and luke go get their nachos and watch that stupid movie together

-

can we get some neko and dog boys in here? can we PLEASE get some neko and boys in here?

crack treated seriously, comedy, everything is normal but for some whatever reason, marius and luke wake up one day with some new parts. marius has got kitty ears and a tail, luke has got fluffy pointed dog ears and tail.

they are not dating, still pining in this fic, and luke is in agony because every time marius talks to him or even LOOKS AT HIM, luke cant stop his tail from wagging vigorously. at some point, luke just turns to look at his butt and scolds his tail "can you PLEASE STOP GIVING ME AWAY????"

the tail does not listen

marius is mostly unaffected because hes always been an attention whore and whatever emotions the new parts give away were already pretty obvious. he is a bit embarrassed tho that his ears perk up WAYYYY too excited whenever luke walks into a room like. come on, hes tryna be SEXY ALOOF.

actually, to add onto the comedy, mc curiously brings a laser pointer to hq and is like. "huh, i wonder if this will work on you guys."

marius: psssshhhh, i doubt it

luke: yeah, the new parts havent given us any behavioral changes or anything so---

mc: //turns on the laser pointer

marius and luke: //IMMEDIATELY BOLT TO THE FUCKING WALL TO PAP PAP PAP IT

the chaos leads to luke and marius colliding, resulting in them on a heap on the floor, marius on top of luke. theyre having a moment, eyes dart to each others' lips and---

laser pointer at the wall, marius frigging SCRAMBLES TO CATCH IT. luke very softly whining because NOOOOO, COME BACK, I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU

they get their acts together soon tho and they still have the animal parts and when they cuddle, luke's tail is wagging and marius' tail is swishing contentedly and is marius purring? oh god thats so cute luke is going to die

-

i have a lot of thoughts

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch11

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity. jungkooks enlistment, its EATING him up. oc is so oblivious. nari as usual, jungkook overworking himself, boring chapter ngl.

wc: short

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610

a/n: u guys dont understand how much i was stressing abt this chapter like, i had no idea what to write for them… like another date? should they fuck again? but i figured this was good so we can get closer to his enlistment without dragging it out too long. so sorry freaks theres no smut today!! and its pretty boring so apologies :( as always thank u for reading my loves. also, a recent comment i had to bring to attention was how it looks like theres a lack of attraction on jungkooks side (in reality there isnt, that man is WHIPPED) : pls note this is completely intentional and youll find out why in this chapter!!

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You realize you can’t spend every day with Jeon Jungkook.

The thought is jarring, unsettling in a way that makes your stomach twist as you count the tip money at the register. It’s not that you thought you could, realistically speaking. You have a life—one that doesn’t revolve around whispered “good mornings” and teasing kisses over breakfast, or the way his fingers always seem to find yours in the quiet moments.

But the past two days have been… intoxicating. Like stepping into some kind of alternate reality, one where time bends in your favor, where you can exist in a warm, golden haze of laughter and lingering glances and the subtle press of his body against yours when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

And now, you’re here. Back to fluorescent lights humming above you, the faint scent of coffee and grease mixing in the air, and—

“Oh hell no, bitch, I’m gonna kill someone. Who the fuck—”

Nari’s voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and irritated, as she holds up a napkin between her fingers like it personally offended her.

You glance over, noting the scrawled handwriting in what looks like smudged eyeliner, and sigh. “Another one?”

“The fifth one today,” she deadpans, before squinting at the message. “‘I like my girls like my coffee, hot and steamy. Call me?’” She blinks. “Oh, gross.”

You can’t help but snort, shaking your head as you swipe the napkin from her hands and toss it straight into the trash. “At least they’re tipping.”

“At what cost?” Nari groans, slumping dramatically against the counter.

And just like that, reality anchors you again. The warmth of Jungkook’s presence, the way he had become so seamlessly woven into your daily routine, feels like something distant. Because this is your life—bantering with Nari over questionable customers, counting tip money, working double shifts until your feet ache. And you realise how much you miss it.

You can’t spend every day with Jeon Jungkook, but speaking of. He hasn’t stopped texting you details about his concert.

At first, you said yes without hesitation. The words slip out so easily, like second nature. “Yeah, of course, I’ll come.” How could you not? It’s Jungkook. It’s his concert. It’s something important to him, and the way he had looked at you—eyes wide, hopeful, waiting—had made it impossible to say anything else, but there was also something strange about how he’d asked you, how he blurted it out so suddenly.

But now, in the unforgiving clarity of daylight, when your phone pings with a message from him about the details, the hesitation creeps in.

You hadn’t even thought about the price.

It’s stupid, really. You don’t need to go, and yet, now that you’ve said yes, the idea of backing out makes your chest tighten uncomfortably. The tickets alone are expensive. Very expensive. The kind of expensive that makes your stomach churn, that has you mentally calculating how many shifts you’d need to cover the cost. And that’s not even considering the logistics—the sheer chaos of being in a packed stadium, the fact that you’d be one person in a crowd of thousands, that you’d have to navigate the whole thing alone.

Well, not alone. You made sure to demand one condition: Nari has to come with you.

Jungkook had said yes without hesitation. But even with that reassurance, you find yourself hesitating with every new text he sends. You keep your responses brief, not enough to raise suspicion but just enough to stall.

It doesn’t work.

Jungkook [11:24 AM]: u okay? you seem off.

You [11:25 AM]: just tired

Jungkook [11:25 AM]: You sure?

You [11:26 AM]: promise

The dots appear, vanish, reappear.

You stare at your screen, willing him to let it go.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook [11:28 AM]: You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, you know.

Your heart lurches a little. That’s not it. You do want to go. But what do you say? Hey, I know I agreed to this, but I can’t really justify spending that much money on a ticket, and also, I don’t really know how to do things like this, and it’s kind of overwhelming to think about?

Before you can even figure out how to respond, another text comes in.

Jungkook [11:29 AM]: If it’s about the ticket, don’t even think about it. I got you.

You blink.

You [11:30 AM]: What?

Jungkook [11:31 AM]: Backstage pass. Special entry. No crowd, no stress. Just you and Nari.

Your mouth goes dry.

He clocked you immediately. Of course, he did. You should’ve known. Jungkook is a lot of things, but oblivious isn’t one of them. He caught on to your hesitance faster than you could even process it yourself, and before you could spiral too deep, he’d already fixed the problem.

Just you and Nari.

The tension in your shoulders eases—just a little. Because the money was one thing, but the thought of pushing through a crowd of thousands had been gnawing at you more than you wanted to admit. But this? This is something you can do.

You [11:33 AM]: You didn’t have to do that.

Jungkook [11:33 AM]: Yeah, I did.

You bite back a smile.

You [11:34 AM]: …Okay. Thank you.

Jungkook [11:34 AM]: Don’t mention it.

A pause. Then:

Jungkook [11:35 AM]: Actually, do mention it. Like a lot. Maybe call me the best person ever or something.

You roll your eyes, typing out a quick absolutely not before locking your phone and exhaling.

Crisis averted.

For now.

——

The bus ride home is slow, the kind of slow that makes you regret not just walking. The city hums around you, neon lights flickering past the windows, the occasional car horn breaking through the low murmur of conversations. You’re exhausted, the long shift weighing down your limbs, and the warmth of the bus isn’t helping.

You lean your head back against the window, sighing. And then, as if on cue, your phone buzzes.

Jungkook: did you eat yet?

You stare at the message for a second, lips pressing together.

You haven’t. But that’s not the point.

You ignore the way your stomach flutters—you’re not dating, you’re not dating, you’re not dating—and type out a quick, Yeah, just got home. It’s a lie, but a small one.

The bus slows at a stoplight. You tap your fingers against your thigh, suddenly remembering something. Something you’d forgotten during work today.

The concert. Oh. Oh, shit.

You blink, processing. The concert is in five days.

You were supposed to be thinking about that. Planning for it. Maybe even, you know, acknowledging it. But somehow, between work and everything else, it completely slipped your mind.

You don’t know why you suddenly feel nervous. It’s just a concert. And it’s not like Jungkook didn’t make sure you’d be safe—backstage passes, seats away from the crowd. He handled everything.

But still.

You bite your lip, debating, and then press call.

Nari picks up on the third ring. “Why are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be busy thinking about a certain superstar?”

You roll your eyes. “I have a question.”

“Go on.”

You hesitate. “…Are you free in five days?”

There’s a pause. Then, suspiciously, “Why?”

You shift in your seat, staring out the window. “Because I may or may not have forgotten that Jungkook’s concert is in five days, and I want you to come with me.”

Silence.

Then—

“BITCH.”

You wince, holding the phone away from your ear as Nari screeches. The few people around you on the bus glance over, and you lower your head, trying to pretend you’re not part of this conversation.

“FIVE DAYS?” she yells. “YOU’RE TELLING ME THIS NOW? DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I NEED TO PICK AN OUTFIT? AT LEAST TEN DAYS. MINIMUM.”

You blink. “That’s…longer than you actually have.”

“EXACTLY.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “So, is that a yes?”

Nari exhales like she’s carrying the weight of the world. “Obviously, yes. But I’m mad about it.”

“You’ll live.”

“No, I won’t.”

You stifle a laugh. “We also have backstage passes, by the way.”

Silence.

“…Come again?”

“Backstage passes. Jungkook got them for us.”

There’s another pause. Then, a deadly serious, “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. Because what I’m hearing is that you have exclusive access to one of the biggest concerts of the year, and you FORGOT?”

“…Yeah?”

“I need you to know that I’m never letting you live this down.”

“That’s fair.”

The bus slows, your stop approaching. You shift forward in your seat, grabbing your bag. “We have to book the day off.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Nari mutters. “And you’re especially lucky that I will never pass up the opportunity to stand within ten feet of Kim Namjoon.”

You snort. “It’s a solo concert Nari.“

“Let a girl dream.”

You hang up with a smile, stepping off the bus and into the cool night air.

It’s only after you get home, slipping off your shoes and setting your phone down, that you notice another text from Jungkook.

Jungkook: Liar. You’re still on the bus.

You freeze.

And then—

Jungkook: Caught you through the reflection, didn’t I?

You groan, flopping onto the couch.

You really, really need to stop underestimating him.

——

The floor against Jungkook’s back is cold. Too cold. It seeps through his damp shirt, cutting through the heat of his skin like ice, but he barely registers it. His chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, sweat slicking his temples, his neck, his arms.

“Again,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else, but the choreographer hesitates.

“Jungkook, you’re overdoing it.”

He hears it, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he pushes himself up, rolling his shoulders back. The mirrors in the practice room reflect him mercilessly—messy hair, the sharp set of his jaw, the frustration tightening his muscles like a coiled spring.

Frustration at himself. At you. At the fact that when he told you about the concert, he was supposed to say something else entirely. I’m leaving for the military soon. That was what was meant to come out. Instead, it had been Come to my concert.

And you’d said yes. Just like that. No hesitation. But then came the shift—those tiny pauses in your texts, the slight hesitance in your words when he brought it up again. You weren’t saying why, but Jungkook knew.

The price.

He’d seen it immediately. The way you didn’t want to say it outright, the way you tried to brush it off. He hated that. Hated that you even thought you had to hesitate over something like this. Because if it was up to him, you wouldn’t have to worry about a damn thing.

That’s why he’d handled it. Special backstage tickets, no issues with the crowd, no stress—just you, there, like he wanted. Like he needed.

So why does it still feel like he’s done something wrong?

“Jungkook,” his manager’s voice cuts through the silence. “That’s enough for today.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, pressing his tongue into his cheek. “One more run.”

“You’re already ahead of schedule. And you’re distracted.”

He bristles. “I’m not.”

“You are.” His manager crosses his arms, looking at him through the mirror. “And I don’t need you injuring yourself because your head’s somewhere else.”

Jungkook stays silent, flexing his fingers at his sides.

His manager sighs, voice lowering. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I do know you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. I also know that whatever’s eating at you isn’t just about the tour.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens.

“I get it,” his manager continues. “You’re stressed. But you’re making it worse for yourself. Just… chill. Whatever this is, let it go for tonight.”

Let it go?

Jungkook almost laughs.

If it were that easy, he wouldn’t be here right now, forcing himself through routine after routine, trying to physically burn you out of his system. Trying to drown out the sound of your voice in his head. Trying to silence the part of himself that knows—knows—he’s in too deep.

Because at first? This wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself for even letting things get this far. What did he expect? That it would be easy to switch off the emotions, to walk away without feeling something? He wants to push away the growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, you’re more than just another distraction.

But now he’s stuck. There’s a reason he hasn’t told you everything. It’s easier to keep you in this safe, manageable space—where things are light and easy, where you don’t need to know about the chaos that’s coming. About how soon he’ll be gone. About the reality that his time is limited, and yet, for some reason, it feels like you’re already becoming more important than he can afford to let you be.

He was wrong. And that realization stings more than he expected.

And now? He’s stuck somewhere between wanting to pull you closer and fearing he’s already too much. That he’s already crossing lines.

“One more,” he says again, voice firm.

His manager exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t argue this time. “Fine. One more. Then you’re done.”

Jungkook doesn’t waste another second.

He throws himself into it, movements sharp, precise, but there’s a new edge to them now. Something more aggressive, more punishing. His muscles scream at him, but he keeps going, pushing harder, faster. He doesn’t just perform—he fights. Every stomp of his foot, every swing of his arm feels like he’s battling something invisible.

Himself.

His own damn emotions.

He dances like he’s trying to outrun them. Like if he moves fast enough, hard enough, maybe he can lose them in the chaos. Maybe he can forget, just for a moment, that you’ve completely consumed him.

But by the time the music stops, by the time he’s standing there, breathless and burning, he knows—

It’s useless.

“I get it,” his manager continues. “You’re stressed. But you’re making it worse for yourself. Go home. Rest.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond right away, but the weight of the words settles in his chest. He swipes his water bottle from the floor, chugging a few mouthfuls before slinging his bag over his shoulder. His body aches, every muscle screaming in protest, but none of it is enough to quiet his mind.

He checks his phone the second he steps outside.

No new messages.

The urge to text you is immediate—something teasing, something easy, just to make sure you’re still there, still thinking about him, too. But he hesitates. You’d already been weird today, your replies shorter, slower, like you were pulling away.

Like you were trying not to need him.

The thought unsettles him more than it should.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. The thing is, he doesn’t know what to do with this. With you. You’re different. A breath of fresh air in a world that’s constantly moving too fast. He likes you. Too much, probably. And that should be a good thing, should be easy—but it’s not.

Because he doesn’t know how to ask for more.

He’s spent his entire career learning how to hold back. How to be careful, how to measure every interaction, every word. But with you, he doesn’t want to be careful. He wants to be selfish. Wants to see you whenever he wants, touch you whenever he wants, kiss you just because he feels like it.

And that’s dangerous.

His fingers hover over your contact for a second before he shoves his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head at himself.

He just has to be patient. That’s all.

If he’s lucky, you’ll realize soon enough.

That you’re already his.

Until he has to go.

By the time he steps outside, the air is thick with the remnants of rain, the streets slick with reflections of neon lights. His phone vibrates in his pocket.

You: Get home safe

Simple. Casual. But Jungkook stares at it for longer than he should, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he finally types out a response.

Jungkook: you too.

He hesitates.

Then, before he can overthink it, he adds—

Jungkook: And don’t lie to me next time.

You: shut up 🙄

Jungkook doesn’t respond. Instead, he exhales slowly, tilting his head back, staring at the ceiling as if it’ll hold all the answers he doesn’t have. The military is looming over him like a shadow, growing closer, heavier. And now there’s you—this thing between you, whatever it is—pressing against his ribs like a weight he can’t shake.

But for now, he just ignores it.

Because in 5 days, it’ll finally be 3 weeks exactly till he’s gone.

The unease follows him, clinging to his skin like sweat.

[alfredolover119]

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story. 

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that. 

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee 

-18k, teen, major character death 

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN. 

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham. 

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN 

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?