books

jack of two trades (drawing and writing) 22, she/her/hers, haikyuu, jjk, solo leveling (+ others)

[bookskeepers]

bookskeepers, a.k.a. 'books,' 'bookie,' etc...

22. she/her/hers. haikyuu, jujutsu kaisen, dr. stone, and others.

writer. artist. self-proclaimed extraordinaire. #1 bokuto kōtarō fan.

writing requests: open

drawing requests: closed

here's the link to all of my art!

here's the link to all of my writing! (in no particular order)

here's the link to my masterlist!

here's the link to all of my babbling!

[bookskeepers]

my life update is that i got a gecko

this is wigglewyrm and i love her dearly

[bookskeepers]

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

happy birthday to books

[bookskeepers]

a little bit of love ◇ chapter four

content warnings: fights, badly written probably lol

word count: 2,007

a/n: sorry for disappearing. work got overwhelming. i've been dealing with graduate school preparations. but i am here!

taglist: @estra-xii, @ari-da

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The first thing that stands out to you is the quiet.

It's silent. Eerily silent, despite the massive, pulsating blue portal in front of you. Jinchul stands to your side, gazing up at the cerulean hole in the world with vague disinterest. You, on the other hand, find that it has your attention in a chokehold, demanding that you look at it.

The immediate area is empty, you know that much. Standard procedure for a gate like this -- a C rank gate, according to the Hunter's Association -- involved evacuating the premises in case of unforeseen issues.

So this is what a gate looks like, you think. It's tall. The air smells of something burnt. If you try and focus, you swear you can feel the molecules around you thrumming with energy. In that moment, you decide that you don't want to see a gate with a higher rank than this one; experiencing this gate's power makes you want to crawl out of your skin. It's overstimulating.

"Don't worry," Jinchul says. The sound of his voice makes you jump with the way it breaks the silence so smoothly. "You're in safe hands. We have a party of four C-ranks, three B-ranks, an A-rank healer, you, and I. If something goes wrong, there's a backup route in place to ensure you're safe."

You glance at him. If you hadn't been working closely for the better part of a month, you would have missed the undercurrent of concern in his otherwise flat tone. As a result, the knowledge that he's looking out for you and doesn't seem deterred by your general inexperience warms your heart just a smidge.

He nods at the other members of the party before making gestures you can barely keep track of. The other members rush forward, and he waits until they're almost at the gate before he motions for you to follow. Unlike them, he walks at an unhurried pace, making it easier for you to keep up with the group.

"Is there a specific reason we're staying at the back?" you ask right before entering the gate, your words nearly lost in the loud hum that grows with every step you take in its direction.

His response is drowned out by the oppressive noise, and your ears begin to hurt as you finally cross the threshold. Jolts of electricity dance across your skin, but they're painless; the sensation passes almost immediately as you're transported to the gate's location.

Tall trees surround you and the party on every side, so tall that even craning your neck up doesn't reveal the tops of the trees. They stretch far above the average person, and their canopies are so interwoven that you'd be plunged into darkness if it weren't for the mages and casters. Three members are holding varying sized globes of fire that cast a dim light on everything in the area. There isn't a clear path forward, but one of the unoccupied individuals points out a small gap between the trees. You find yourself grateful that you're not claustrophobic.

In pairs of two, the party files through the gap. This leaves you paired up with Jinchul, and you're once again grateful because you don't think you'd've been able to handle the stress of being in such close contact with a stranger. Not that Jinchul is your friend, either; he currently lies in the undescribed realm between 'stranger' and 'acquaintance.'

The party remains silent as they trek, clearly looking for the inhabitants of this dungeon. The trees stretch on, creating a wall that blocks the group from sight. It'd be reassuring if it didn't mean it blocked any approaching enemies from sight too.

It's not long before you hear a faint growl, and the party's movement stills. Jinchul taps your shoulder to catch your attention, mouthing two words: Don't move.

The telltale pit-pat of something canine in nature comes soon after, accompanied by the sound of something large sniffing. The noises echo and multiply, and you can't tell if there's only one animal approaching or a whole army's worth. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest, anticipating the worst, when something bursts through a tree closest to you.

You let out a stifled shriek as a giant wolf nearly closes its jaws around your neck -- it would've succeeded had Jinchul not reacted in time. Before you can blink, the wolf is on the ground and the tree it burst through has toppled down several others, miraculously leaving you and your party unharmed.

"Hopefully wolves are the worst we're dealing with," Jinchul murmurs. You're not sure if the other party members heard him, but you hear the doubt in his voice. It causes an icy grip to fixate on your heart. Clearly, Jinchul thiks there's something worse lurking in the unknown.

Tentatively, the party begins to move again. The trees start to thin out, exposing a dark sky and rolling grasslands as far as the eye can see. Right in front of the party, however, is a massive, gaping cave that echoes with more growls and some howls.

One of the mages glances back at Jinchul. She's the one at the head of the party, but you guess she isn't the leader. After all, she's deferring to the man at your side. He nods at her, and she progresses into the cave's mouth, the rest of the people present following suit.

The lights the mages have in their hands feel like they become stronger; the closeness of the cavern walls cause the area to be far more lit. You spy twinkles amongst the dull brown rock, and Jinchul whispers to you: "Mana crystals embedded in the rock."

You glance over at him before continuing to try and observe the walls. "How are you so sure?"

"Dungeons rarely have any minerals beyond mana crystals," he replies.

You nod, tucking the tidbit of information somewhere in your brain. Beneath the echo of many footsteps in an enclosed space, the din of the wolves grows louder and louder. The icy grip around your heart tightens, and your subconscious registers it as fear.

Once again, without warning, several wolves descend upon the crew. They're taken down in a matter of seconds, too fast for you to even react. Adrenaline begins coursing through your veins, alleviating the coldness in your chest.

You weren't given a weapon or anything in preparation for the raid. The higher ups -- Jinchul, in other words -- had decided that your purpose would be to watch and observe instead of participate. Your mastery over your ability, while improved, still left much to be desired. Instead, the party had two goals: the first was to clear the C-rank gate, and the second was to ensure you were kept safe. Jinchul had opted to be your personal bodyguard instead of the raid leader, although it was clear from the interaction outside the cave that the actual party leader still deferred to him for decisions.

The group treks on, clearly on higher alert due to the attempted ambush. You note that the walls begin to peel away from the group, the once-narrow tunnel widening progressively. The noises grow considerably louder, and the group enters what must be the main chamber. There are tens, if not hundreds, of wolves gathered in the cavern. None of them seem to be the boss, though. The opposite side is no longer in sight, the flames not enough to illuminate it beyond the wolves' bodies.

Despite knowing that there's a disparity between monster rankings and hunter rankings, with the average C-rank hunter being far stronger than a C-rank monster, you're still impressed when the room is cleared in a matter of minutes with minimal mana spent. Since your awakening, you've been more attuned to that kind of thing: mana expenditure.

While the C-ranks in the party have begun to look a little weary, the B- and A-ranks still look fresh. The troupe spends another few minutes splitting into teams and exploring the edges of the room, trying to determine if there's more to the dungeon. You hear Jinchul mutter to a colleague about the potential of being misled when the area begins to shake.

Cracks appear in the floor, and Jinchul grabs you before the rock beneath your feet drops away into nothingness. You two and the colleague stumble away from the wall, heading for the center of the cavern. The other party members meet you there, although you notice with a sinking feeling in your stomach that two are missing.

A deep, guttural noise echoes from the new chasm surrounding the platform. A giant, furry clawed arm appears over the edge opposite from you, followed by a head that could be described as both wolfish and human-ish. Soon, the monster has pulled itself onto the platform, and it's bigger than even the tallest man you know -- the creature stands at over 2.10 metres easily, dwarfing the entire party.

It lets out a horrible roar before slashing at the nearest person. You notice that its claws are covered in fresh blood, making you wonder if those two missing individuals fell or died in a gruesome way. Jinchul has to pull you out of the way of the monster because you are so lost in your thoughts.

The battle rages on. It seems that, even with the combined forces of the C- and B-ranks, they're having little effect on the monster. You'd heard of things like this happening before -- mislabelled gates where the boss was stronger than expected. You also knew it was rare, and you hoped that your gut feeling was wrong.

It soon becomes clear that Jinchul's expertise and prowess are needed to turn the tides, as all his focus has been on protecting you from harm. One of the B-ranks falls to a well-timed snap of the beast's jaws, and you can feel your dinner crawling up your throat. The sight makes you feel so ill you contemplate turning around to hurl, as stupid as it would be to turn your back on such a creature.

"Go help them!" you shout at Jinchul over the clanging steel and snarling.

He glances back at you before nodding, rushing into the fray with a sword held high. Already, he's making quick work of the creature, making you think the boss couldn't be higher than a B-rank. You stand near the edge of the platform, watching with bated breath as Jinchul swipes and stabs at the beast while deftly avoiding its attacks. This gives the team's healer a chance to recover the wounded.

You're so enrapt in watching the fight that you don't notice the wolf climbing up the platform behind you. It's only when the growl sounds close to your ear that you whip around, that iciness in your chest returning with full force. You stumble backwards, away from the white four-legged canine, falling backwards onto your hands. Focus, focus, focus.

You hold out one hand, praying that the magic would flow with ease after all your training, but it doesn't. You continue to scrabble away, managing to get onto your feet before skirting the perimeter of the platform to stay out of the main fighters' way. You think you spot Jinchul glancing over out of the corner of your eye, and you watch, in horror, as the action costs him -- the boss takes a mighty sweep at him and succeeds in knocking him off his feet.

Before the boss has a chance to make the final blow, though, you stretch one hand out in its direction -- with your other hand outstretched in the wolf's direction -- and push against whatever barrier is preventing you from calling upon your ability. Two condensed slashes of air emanate from your palms, slicing the boss and wolf neatly in two just in time. The wolf was close enough for its blood to splatter on your clothes, and once again your dinner threatens to come back up.

Another few minutes pass as everyone processes what just happened: you saved Woo Jinchul's life.

[bookskeepers]

life update!!!!

i got two piercings on saturday! i have been fucking Burnt Out from Work (lotta drama. god) and i am officially an upcoming Master's student (neuroscience baybeeeee)

i promise. i will update my fics one day (currently on the windbreaker rabbit hole ngl)

the new piercings are the silver ones. the lower one is called a snug (very rare anatomy dependent piercing - more anatomy dependent than an industrial i think) and the upper one is called a rook (considerably more common less anatomy dependent piercing)

both of these piercings are the hardest ones to heal in every website/ranking/personal story i've seen

[bookskeepers]

a little bit of love ◆ chapter three

content warnings: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT, mentions of trauma / being beaten, flashbacks,

word count: 1,748

author's note: i sneezed 3 times before writing this chapter. good to know the fans are thinking of me. me dropping this is now a gift for @hiraethwa ily ave (even though i said id do it a whole week ago oops)

taglist: @ari-da @estra-xii

previous ◆ masterlist ◆ next

i'm fighting for my life to find these images gang

The breath escapes from your lungs as you fall flat against the mat, his knee pressed firmly to your chest. "Dead," he says bluntly. His tone, despite being cold, holds no disappointment -- almost as if he expected you to be wholly inexperienced. You find yourself glad that he's the first, and maybe only, one to hold you to realistic standards.

You can feel him put more of his weight on his knee, as if trying to drive it into your heart. A rasping wheeze leaves your lips, and he finally relents, allowing your lungs to desperately fill with air. You glance at Jinchul, a frown having found a permanent place on your features since the sparring match had started.

Unlike you, the man is still neatly groomed. His hair remains slicked back, his suit unrumpled, not a single bead of sweat to be seen on his features. You, on the other hand, are nearly drenched. The back of your loose tee sticks to your skin, and you're certain there's a damp spot covering the expanse of your back. You don't have it in you to be embarrassed, though, since the exhaustion of trying to just tap Jinchul is mounting.

"You have a way with words," you finally say in response, accepting the hand he extends to help you up. Your words come out in puffed gasps as your lungs struggle to resume their function of breathing. "I don't think anyone would say 'dead' with quite like you do."

Your attempt on humor is lost on the stoic man. "That marks four times since our match started. You haven't even tapped me once. Did you forget that's your goal?"

Of course you didn't forget -- the first words Jinchul had said to you upon arrival were that the point of this sparring match was to assess your physical fighting abilities and agility. All you had to do was lay at least one fingertip on him, but he was allowed to respond with his own moveset, albeit at a reduced strength. You think he'd probably have broken your ribs and punctured your lungs if he didn't hold himself back.

You ignore the ache in your sternum and the burning pain beneath your ribs as he hauls you up with more force than you anticipated, causing you to stumble. Your face would've made contact with his chest had he not sidestepped at the last moment, leaving you to jolt several steps forward with your hands outstretched to maintain your balance. Even though you're now facing away from him, you can still feel his violet gaze following your every movement. You swear you can hear the gears turning in his brain, the decisions they produce churning out at a rapid-fire pace.

"Nope, didn't forget," you manage to say, your words smoothening out as your lungs repeatedly fill with and expel air. You glance over your shoulder, watching as he opens his mouth to say something, when you whirl around so you're fully facing him.

You cross the space between the two of you in long, quick strides, one hand reaching for his wrist. His reaction time is so fast you swear he must be able to predict the future; his own hand shoots out, grabbing yours and twisting. A sharp crack echoes in the ring as he twists it, a yelp escaping your lips. As if he can't resist adding insult to injury, Jinchul sweeps one long leg underneath yours, driving you down into the mat once more.

"Your element of surprise could use some work," he states as he pats down his suit. "I could see you coming." Once again, he extends his arm to you to help you up. You go to grip his hand with the arm that was just twisted, but a shooting pain caused by the movement makes you wince and cradle your injured hand to your chest.

"I think I have to tap out," you choke out, eyes flooding with tears. An unidentifiable emotion flashes in Jinchul's gaze, but he simply nods.

"I'll go get a healer." Before you can respond, the man is gone, the doors slamming behind him.

You take your time to recover, laying on the mat until your ribs no longer sting whenever you inhale. Once it subsides, you sit up slowly, trying desperately to hold the tears back. Jinchul, it seems, is unforgiving in his training, and every injury you endure threatens to break the frail dam blocking the memories of your trauma.

The sparring match itself had lasted over three hours, since you were completely unwilling to get close at the beginning. You had known that the next meeting would be something like this, since he had said so, but you hadn't anticipated that he would be so harsh. It was almost as if he didn't get the memo about your personal history, even though it was on national news.

On one hand, the idea that he has no clue who you actually are is comforting. On the other, you kind of wish he knew so he would hold back more or avoid inflicting girevous injuries (like a broken wrist). Each breath comes with a throb of pain, reminding you of your ex-boyfriend's worst habits.

There had been a day relatively recently where you and your ex had gone out to the local market to purchase groceries for dinner. You had made the unfortunate mistake of giving the male shopkeeper a polite smile -- an old habit that seemed to refuse to die -- and you had instantly realized your mistake. It was impossible to ignore the anger that had radiated off of him in waves, only intensifying on the way back to your shared apartment. No amount of "sorry"s and "I swear it was a mistake" appeased that awful man, and you had spent the next few weeks with very bruised ribs, among other injuries.

The memory overwhelms you, and the breathing you had been struggling to maintain suddenly picks up in speed as you begin to hyperventilate. Your brain is overcome with similar scenes where tiny missteps led to days of pain, if not weeks. Cruel, calloused hands coming down on you, feet kicking into you, teeth sinking into your skin until you bled. Your ex hadn't hesitated to use any part of his body he could to hurt you when you had the extreme misfortune of making a mistake.

The real world fades away as your brain replays these horrid moments over and over again, and you aren't aware of your surroundings. Your heart beats loudly in your ears, and you can feel the blood rush to your face as tears begin their descent down your cheeks. "Stop," you croak, over and over again, curling into the fetal position to protect yourself from an imagined attacker.

The hands that you think are going to hurt you do the opposite. They're gentle, soft -- completely different from the hands of your ex. Uncalloused and smooth as they take your injured hand away from your chest. You feel a faint warmth in your wrist, and it's enough to break through the flashbacks tormenting you. Your eyes focus, and there's an unfamiliar woman kneeling in front of you. A green glow emanates from her hands as she heals your injured wrist.

It takes you a few seconds to realize she's also murmuring "you're okay" over and over in a soft tone, that her eyes are full of empathy. Jinchul, however, is nowhere to be seen.

"Sorry," you croak out, and the healer shakes her head.

"There's no need to apologize. It happens." The glow from her hands dissipates, and you bend your wrist hesitantly. Internally, you awe at the miracle that is healing magic -- there's no more pain whatsoever.

As if sensing that the healer had done her job, Jinchul suddenly bursts through the doors. He seems more out-of-shape from this brief intermission in your sparring match than he had throughout the entire actual fighting. The healer glances over her shoulder at him before getting up and offering you a hand. You take it gratefully, feeling as light as a feather -- and surprised by her hidden strength -- when she yanks you up with ease.

Giving you a curt nod, she turns on her heel to whisper something to Jinchul in a frustrated tone before leaving. You hope you're not the cause of her frustration, although the glare she leveled at the blonde man as she left assuages your concerns.

"It seems I got carried away," Jinchul says after a period of prolonged, awkward silence. He offers you a hand again, and you take it, marvelling once more at how he pulls you up to your feet with such ease. "I shouldn't've twisted your wrist. I'm sorry."

Almost as if it's instinctual, you raise up your own hands and wave them frantically. "No, no, it's alright, really, it's my fault," you babble out. "I shouldn't've instigated." You trail off at the end, finally processing what you're saying. A defense tactic, you're sure, to avoid any more lashouts from your opposition. "I mean, thank you for the apology," you whisper out after a bit.

His eyes widen slightly, and you can practically see the gears turning in his brain as your behavior and your past finally click into place. He doesn't say anything else though, not for a bit. This time around, you begin meandering about, gazing up at the ceiling to give yourself a distraction. Unfortunately, like the rest of the training gym, the ceiling is pretty bland.

Finally, after what feels like eons, Jinchul clears his throat. From where you're standing, you have to turn around to see him, but he's still facing away from you. His head is tilted downwards, as if he was staring at the floor -- the opposite of what you were doing. "Yes, well, I suppose we can end our sparring session there for today. Someone will be in contact with information about our next meeting."

With that, he straightens up and walks out of the room. If you had known him better, you would have picked up on the subtleties of tension in his posture -- his back is ramrod straight, and his jaw is clenched. Alas, you don't, so you just assume he's being Jinchul. Not that you quite know what "being Jinchul" means yet, either.

He pauses right before he actually exits, glancing back at you briefly to add: "I hope you have a good day, Ms. Sun."

[bookskeepers]

honestly the lack of woo jinchul content is questionable. how?? he's so darn fine 😫😫

for real bro like he's got me on my knees 😍

[bookskeepers]

i wanna be so tumblr famous that my ask inbox overwhelms me but i try to answer them all anyways

one day...

[bookskeepers]

a little bit of love ◇ chapter two

content warnings: woo jinchul's pov, references to canon events, mentions of abuse, headcanon inserts about how abilities work in solo leveling's world,

word count: 2,351

author's note: i was gonna continue it to include the first sparring session with the reader but then i decided to cut it off here for simplicity

taglist: @ari-da

previous ◇ masterlist ◇ next

(i have to scour the internet to find these screenshots gang)

Jinchul's day had started like any other. He woke up early in the morning, prepared himself a cup of coffee, and brushed his teeth once he was finished drinking. After that, he left his apartment to go on a light run before hitting the gym. After all, in his opinion, the Chief Investigator of the Surveillance Team should remain in peak physical condition.

He can't recall if that day had been particularly eventful before the news of your awakening -- and subsequent violent crime -- had shaken South Korea. He thinks that it wasn't that interesting if nothing comes to mind, but he also knows that big events such as that can overshadow even the most interesting days at work.

However, he can recall the conversation he had with Chairman Go Gunhee once your trial started; the Chairman had insisted that he talk to the judge and offer the Hunter's Association as a form of community service, since the public was so strongly in your favor. He remembers telling the Chairman that it didn't seem like a good idea, since, after all, you did commit a crime. The debate had lasted several hours, and Jinchul had returned home exhausted.

Genuinely, he remembers that he just couldn't understand the logic behind Go Gunhee's decision. Why would he want to recruit a potential criminal? Jinchul knew back then that most people who awakened by committing some form of crime tended to stick to the life of breaking the law, and he had sincerely doubted that you'd be an exception. Granted, he didn't know all the facts of your case (he wasn't one to stay caught up on national news if it seemed semi-irrelevant) but he thought he knew enough to form a solid opinion of you before you had even met him.

He remembers how his Teams app had gone off the next day when he was sitting behind his desk, filling out some paperwork in regards to the Double Dungeon that had popped up with only six survivors. He remembers that he felt annoyed, since he had gone out of his way to talk to Sung Jinwoo -- the last one to emerge from the double dungeon, a simple E-rank -- and he hadn't yielded any results. He remembers thinking how unusual this all was, the double dungeon and your awakening as an A-rank, as he checked his phone. The message had been from the Chairman himself, informing Jinchul that the judge of your trial had agreed with the Chairman's idea of putting you in the Hunter's Association as a form of community service.

"Also," the text had read, "you're going to mentor her. A-rank to A-rank. I know you disagreed with my idea to begin with, but I think it will do her a lot of good to learn how to control her abilities from one of the strongest A-rankers around."

The message had made his irritation spike, but he begrudgingly sent an affirmation in response. He wasn't one to go against the Chairman's orders, no matter how much he disagreed with them. It wasn't his place to disobey.

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The memories of those days leading up to the current one flash in Jinchul's head as he reads an internet summary about your court case. The secretary had informed him via text that you had arrived and were waiting in his office, so he decided that the best course of action would be to catch himself up on as much information as he could before he faced you in person.

He will admit that he was wrong about you originally; the article goes into detail about the abuse you suffered at the hands of your ex. It also mentions that the ex in question is undergoing another trial to address the countless cases of abuse you endured. It seems your lashing out wasn't unprovoked after all, he thinks to himself as he stops in front of the door to his office.

He raises his hand to knock, before deciding against it and turning the handle. He opens the door with a little extra force and lets the handle go, which creates a banging noise. He watches as you whip around, watches as the air-slash materializes in front of you and heads in his direction at a very high speed.

He feels the familiar tingle in the tips of his fingers as he makes a waving gesture, the air-slash dissipating, watches as the relief floods your previously-panicked gaze and as you collapse on the floor, hitting the wood with a thud.

Her ability usage is... rough at best, he notes mentally. Outwardly, there is no sign of what he's thinking; Jinchul prides himself on his pokerface. He lets you sit there for a few moments as he makes a show of straightening his suit, despite it being immaculate to begin with.

"Better?" he asks after a bit, watching you carefully with his violet gaze. He keeps his voice steady, determined to not give any tells about what he may think of you.

He can practically feel you scan him, can practically feel the gears in your head turning as you form an opinion of him based on his appearance. He can guess at what you're thinking -- that he's well put-together, clearly skilled at his job, used to this kind of thing. Unlike him, who keeps his emotions close to his chest, you're an open book. Jinchul makes another mental note of this too.

"Um, yes, thank you, sorry." Your voice is soft and shaky, clearly plagued by the panic you had felt earlier. He decides against offering you a hand up, wanting to see how you act without any assistance.

He strides over to the sofas, sitting on one and gesturing for you to sit on the other. "Sit." A simple command, but he's more interested in how long it will take you to gather yourself together from your spot on the floor, how long it will take you to break through the residual panic in your system before you move.

To his surprise, it doesn't take you very long at all. His eyes follow your figure as you stand up, wipe off your knees to remove residual dust, and walk over to sit down across from him. He holds your gaze when you make eye contact, and he finds that he can't tell what you're thinking in that moment. Odd, considering your heart was on your sleeve up until now.

His ears pick up on the sound of you taking a quick inhale right before you speak. "I'm really sorry about that. The door..." You seem to struggle to find the right words. "Startled me, and I don't have the best control ov--"

Jinchul holds up one finger to cut you off. He had heard apologies akin to yours countless times before, from other newly awakened individuals. From his personal experience, he thought the higher the level, the more natural the control over one's ability is. Usually those who were out-of-control were much lower ranks, like D or E. In other words, ranks too low to actually cause lasting damage. It'd been a while since there'd been a newly awakened with a rank above a C who was unable to manage their abilities. He figures you'll be a challenge of sorts, especially if your abilities vary wildly from his own tank moveset.

The words that leave his mouth next are entirely true. "Don't worry about it. I've dealt with worse." He shifts on the sofa, extending his arm and leaning forwards in your direction. "Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Woo Jinchul, and I'll be your... case worker, for lack of a better term."

He notices the confusion furrow your brows before you speak. "Case... worker?" Once again, he's unimpressed with how honest and emotional your words are. Maybe his expectations were too high -- you were an ordinary person before awakening, after all. Or maybe there's a newfound sense of freedom, since you're no longer shackled to that ex of yours; perhaps you're revelling in the way you can speak so openly, so emotionally.

His arm is starting to get the slightest bit tired, which would be unusual if he hadn't had a long day up until now. "I'll be the one overseeing your community service. I'm the Chief Investigator of the Hunter Association's Surveillance Team." When the confusion doesn't dissipate from your features, he finds himself briefly wondering just how much you knew about the world of hunters.

"So... that means...?"

Even ordinary people knew about the Surveillance Team and what they do, although maybe you can't be counted as ordinary due to circumstances beyond your control. He slowly lets his hand drop, deciding for the both of you that you won't be shaking it. "It means my team and I keep an eye on hunters and investigate raid-related incidents when necessary."

The nod you give him nearly has him breaking his pokerface from annoyance. A frown itches at the corners of his lips, desperate to be expressed. "I'm guessing I'll be helping you do that?" you ask.

"Eventually," he replies. The irritation coursing through his veins almost makes it a struggle to maintain a cool, calm facade. How could you be so slow? "Firstly, I'm going to help you control your abilities. Then we'll see about fieldwork." The way your body sags ever so slightly suggests that something about the conversation thus far has given you some relief. Relief from what, Jinchul has no idea, but relief nonetheless.

"That's good, at least." Nothing could've prepared him for the words that leave your mouth next. "Maybe this way I won't accidentally kill someone for opening a door loudly."

He's caught so off-guard that he doesn't respond for quite a while, not exactly knowing how to. He knows that the longer the silence stretches, the worse the tension will become. The slightest stiffening in your shoulders indicates that you're also aware of the tension in the room.

Deciding not to give the joke any more thought, Jinchul lets out what he thinks is an inaudible sigh. "I look forward to working with you, Ms. Sun."

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Mere minutes after you had left his office, the Chairman of the Hunter's Association took the time to personally seek out Jinchul. Clearly, Go Gunhee's aware of what's happening in Headquarters at all times.

"So," the chairman asks, making himself comfortable in the same spot you had been sitting in moments before. His hands are clasped in front of him. "What are your thoughts on the newest member of your team?" There's a thread of curiosity laced in Chairman Go's deep voice, making Jinchul think of schoolgirls who are excited to gossip after something big happens.

Unlike the Chairman's more relaxed demeanor, the Chief Investigator is standing in front of the sofa where he was previously seated, hands behind his back. "She's... emotional," he says after a few seconds of silence between the first and second word. It's the nicest way he can phrase his otherwise negative opinion of the individual. "I opened the door without warning and her instinctual response was to try and kill me with an air-blade of sorts."

To Jinchul's surprise, Go Gunhee lets out a hearty chuckle. "Oh, Jinchul," he says, his tone full of platonic affection for an employee. "You make it sound like having emotions is a bad thing."

"Respectfully, Chairman," the blonde begins. "It can be. How can I expect a subordinate to be unbiased in investigations if they let their emotions guide them?"

"You aren't even giving her a chance," Gunhee points out drily.

Jinchul sighs. "I'm not sure I want to give someone who tried to kill me a chance at all, sir."

The Chairman pauses, lowering his head ever so slightly so that his eyes are out of Jinchul's point of view. The younger man can practically hear the gears turning in the older man's head. "I think you're forgetting that she has no control over her abilities," the elder says at last. "You're holding her at fault for something she most likely regrets. It'd be wise to remember that she has... a troubled history, for lack of a better way of saying it."

He knows it's not intentional, but the Chairman's words sting Jinchul. The blonde man scolds himself internally -- how could he have forgotten about that miserable business with your ex? -- before unclasping his hands to straighten his suit jacket. "You're right, sir," he responds. "I think I've been holding her to the same standard I hold myself." That doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on her, though.

Go Gunhee makes a show of slapping his knees before standing up, as if the effort of doing so is immense. "I trust you'll come up with a suitable plan to help her control her abilities." He walks around the coffee table, clapping a heavy hand on Jinchul's shoulders. The blonde doesn't flinch or bend under the weight. "I'd like to see it when you have it done, if you don't mind. She's scheduled to start next week."

"Understood, sir." The younger man's violet gaze follows the older man's form as he strides to the door of the office with confidence, waving briefly at the other before exiting the office.

Jinchul feels several bits of tension leave his body all at once. He was, perhaps, too honest with the Chairman; it might've saved him some future effort to lie about his thoughts on you, but he also knows that the result would've been the same. Besides, he prides himself on being honest and detached, something Go Gunhee values immensely given Jinchul's role of Chief Investigator.

He thinks the Chairman is right in one aspect: he had been too harsh in his initial opinion of you. However, he is still a human at heart, and humans tend to take things personally despite evidence that may prove it wasn't intentional.

All Jinchul knows, in that moment, is that training you is going to be a lot of work.

[bookskeepers]

a little bit of love ◆ chapter one

content warnings: mentions of violence/gore, mentions of cheating, probably not how South Korean court works (i got my information from a guide called 'An overview of the criminal law system in South Korea' which was on... canada's government website)?, mentions of penises, trauma !, woo jinchul IS in this chapter

word count: 2,363

author's note: heh...? reader rlly said "oops"

taglist: none yet ! leave an ask / comment to be added

previous ◆ masterlist ◆ next

The police had appeared on your friend's doorstep the next day. When she opened the door, they simply mentioned that they were there for you and that they determined your location based on eyewitness reports. They didn't tell your friend what the crime was, instead opting to push past her and arrest you in the kitchen.

You'd've been foolish if you hadn't known this was coming; through the haze of your memories, you distinctly recalled mutilating your ex-boyfriend somehow. And, unfortunately for you, your ex-boyfriend was someone of mild importance in your neighborhood, so the police moved faster than usual to get you.

The actual investigation against you hadn't lasted very long -- they sat you down in a small, tiled room to ask you questions about your supposed motive. You could tell from their phrasing that they were already convinced you were guilty of whatever crime they were informed of, since each question was pointed and guiding.

After that, the trial itself was relatively short; you hadn't opted for a jury trial, so the decision was made by a judge. You had been detained in between the investigation and trial, cited to be "unfit to return to civil life" due to your apparent awakening and lack of control over your abilities. Your lawyer did most of the speaking for you, as your evidence was presented orally. There were only four separate court sessions total despite you having confessed to the crime, since the circumstances made the entire thing more nuanced.

When word first got out, it made national news -- it's not every day that a newly awakened hunter loses control of themselves and injures someone else unintentionally, especially not in a situation like yours. As a result, you lost your job due to the sudden criminal charges looming over your head. However, you and your ex-boyfriend's fifteen seconds of fame soon faded as the case progressed. The internet was full of arguments about who was in the right, with most people on your side since you were cheated on and abused. Your personal life was aired in every sense of the word, making you feel more like an animal in a cage than a human, and it felt like the entire world knew anything there was to know about your life by the time the trial was over.

The judge had deemed you guilty, but had given you a fairly light punishment given the scenario itself: you were to perform community service under the Hunter's Association. More specifically, you were to assist the Surveillance Team in something-or-other. You hadn't been paying close attention to the specifics, overwhelmed by relief that you weren't going to spend your life behind bars.

The same could not be said for your ex-boyfriend, however -- he lost his guild contract due to his mistreatment of you and was hospitalized for quite a bit to ensure his newly grown penis (courtesy of an A-rank healer) was working as intended. You had heard through the grapevine that it was extremely malfunctional, and you had taken a private moment of glee in response.

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The verdict had been delivered two weeks ago. Now, you stand in front of a mirror in your friend's apartment, dressed in the best business-casual attire you own. A loose white button-up, a pair of black leggings, and a crepe blazer that dangles over your frame. You find yourself once again grateful that your friend had agreed to host you until you were able to find your own place, despite it all. You make a mental note to buy her lunch later, thankful that you were able to save while you were stuck in that awful relationship. After all, your hunter ex-boyfriend had insisted on paying for everything to appear more "masculine" to whoever may have been watching, whatever that meant.

You take a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, straightening your blazer before pulling your bag over your shoulder. As you make your way out of the spare room and into the entryway of the apartment, you stop by the door to slip on a pair of low wedges to complete your outfit. You leave your slippers by the shoerack.

It doesn't take you long to reach the main building of the Hunter's Association. Upon your arrival, someone at the front desk whisks you away to a different building across the street, telling you that you need to be evaluated before your community service can actually begin.

You spend a good chunk of the morning waiting in the queues, trying to maintain an air of patience while you ignore the stares aimed at you. While you may have faded from national headlines, your verdict had been public and the case itself had been considered "juicy" for lack of a better term. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together to figure out who you were.

Right before noon, your name is called and you shuffle into the evaluation room. The giant sphere in the middle intimidates you, and you feel a pit of dread begin to form in your stomach when the attendant instructs you to place your hand on the surface of it. Some brainwashed part of you whispers that you hope you're not an E-rank, despite knowing that's impossible; you were able to harm your C-rank ex-boyfriend, after all. It's only when the attendant lets out a soft sound of surprise that you look up at her with a tilted head, a questioning look in your eyes.

"You're an A-rank," she says with a bright smile, and you wonder if they're trained to deliver all news with that expression. "In fact, you're on the upper end of the spectrum! Congratulations on your new rank." She gestures you over to her so you can look at the screen dictating your power levels. The graphs and images don't mean anything to you, however, so you decide to take her at face value.

"An A-rank?" you echo, confusion lacing itself in your tone. "That's... wow. I didn't think..." You trail off, struggling to get the words out.

The attendant seems unbothered. "If you're lucky, maybe you'll get scouted by a major guild!"

Her optimism sinks its claws into you, and you give her a weak smile. "I don't think that'll happen," you say earnestly. You've never heard of anyone with a criminal record being recruited by one of the big five. Besides, you have a stint with the Hunter's Association that has to be completed before you can even consider guild recruitment.

You thank the attendant for her time and head out, picking up your Hunter ID on your way out. You retrace your steps, crossing the street once more and re-entering the Hunter's Association HQ. The individual behind the desk herds you into an elevator this time, pressing the button for a floor higher up in the building. Soft music fills the tense, awkward silence between the two of you as the elevator ascends.

The muzak doesn't do much to quiet your thoughts, which are currently spiralling out of control. Ever since the incident, you had been trying to make sense of these sudden new powers, trying to see if you ever felt the sensations of those abilities manifesting since then. Simply put, the answer was no. In the past several months, there had been no itch in your fingertips, no sparks of red-hot rage. To be quite honest, you aren't even completely sure how awakening works -- you honestly think there should be more incidents similar to yours, because how often do people awaken with perfect control over their abilities? How did people even learn how to use them?

As if the universe itself is trying to answer your question, the elevator dings softly and the doors slide open to reveal a long hallway. You can faintly hear bustling and ringing phones off to your left, and you suppose that's where one of those huge offices with cubicles is. The secretary gestures for you to follow as they lead you down the long hallway, past the door you're sure leads to those cubicles. There are two rights and three lefts on your route, and you're working on memorizing them before the secretary stops in front of a door that matches all the other doors you've seen thus far.

"You can wait in here," they say, albeit not unkindly. They open the door with one hand, and you can feel their eyes on you as you walk inside.

It's a fairly average-looking personal office; there's a mahogany desk in the center, with giant windows as the backdrop. A swivel chair sits behind the desk, along with a neat stack of papers next to a monitor and keyboard. Several meters in front of the desk are two sofas across from each other with a coffee table in between. The walls that aren't windows are lined with tall bookcases, and closer inspection reveals that most of the books are about hunting, raids, and mana. The other few are fantasy novels and science fiction novels, which comes to you as a mild surprise.

The secretary closes the door behind you with a soft click, and you take the time to inspect the room some more. On the desk, there's a silver placard with the name "WOO JINCHUL" written in bold letters on it. The handwriting on the paperwork is extremely organized, as if whoever wrote it took extra time to ensure it's legible. The monitor isn't displaying a screensaver and the PC it's attached to is hidden out of view, but the rim of the screen has several sticky notes detailing important dates hanging from it.

You run your fingers along the placard, feeling the grooves of the letters. The metal is cool to the touch, and your hand comes away completely free of dust. You're beginning to form an image in your mind of this Woo Jinchul when the door suddenly opens rather loudly without warning, frightening you.

In your state of panic, your mind flashes back to the times your ex-boyfriend would do the same, usually with the intent to shout at you or worse. The itching in your fingers suddenly returns full force, and you find yourself firing off another one of those airblades at the newcomer. You let out a strangled "watch out," thinking about how you're about to have yet another criminal charge on your once-perfect-now-ruined record.

To your relief -- and perhaps shock -- the newcomer makes a slashing motion with their hand, and the incoming attack dissipates. Your knees suddenly collapse beneath you, the fear coursing through your veins too much to bear. It takes you several long, silent minutes to calm yourself. Once you succeed, you cringe at how awful of a first impression you just made on this individual.

"Better?" the person asks, tone polite and plain. The voice is deep and masculine, pleasing to your brain.

You blink a few times, taking the time to actually look at him. He's tall, clad in a black suit, and his blondish-orangeish hair is slicked back save for one curl that rests against his forehead. He's too far away for you to determine the exact color of his eyes, but from your vantage point you can see that they're on the darker end. His frame is broad, and something about the way he stands suggests years of experience at doing whatever it is he does. He also exudes a slightly intimidating aura, made worse by your embarrassing interaction just now.

"Um, yes, thank you, sorry," you manage to say, although your voice is not much louder than a mumble.

The man makes a show of dusting himself off before striding across the room and sitting on one of the sofas. He gestures to the couch opposite him. "Sit."

You pick yourself off the ground, wincing at the pain in your knees, and obey his command. Now that you're closer to him, you can tell that his eyes are a shade of violet. Pretty.

You swallow the lump in your throat, willing your voice to be louder this time. "I'm really sorry about that," you begin. "The door... startled me, and I don't have the best control ov--"

He holds up one finger, and you find yourself stopping mid-sentence. "Don't worry about it. I've dealt with worse." He leans forward, reaching his hand out over the coffee table. "Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Woo Jinchul, and I'll be your... case worker, for lack of a better word."

"Case... worker?" you echo, confusion laced in your tone.

"I'll be the one overseeing your community service," he clarifies. "I'm the Chief Investigator of the Hunter Association's Surveillance Team."

You blink, all these words making sense separately but not together. "So... that means...?"

Jinchul raises an eyebrow at you, perhaps the first sign of emotion he's outwardly displayed since stepping foot in the room. He slowly retracts his hand once he realizes you're probably not going to shake it. "It means my team and I keep an eye on hunters and investigate raid-related incidents when necessary."

You nod, things finally clicking into place. "I'm guessing I'll be helping you do that?" you finally say.

"Eventually. Firstly, I'm going to help you control your abilities. Then we'll see about fieldwork."

You note that he has a very straight-to-the-point way of talking, and he excels at keeping his voice even to ensure it doesn't betray his internal feelings. In fact, you can't actually get a read on how he might feel about this whole situation, as he's been nothing but polite yet somewhat cold during your entire brief interaction. Nothing about the way he's acted thus far suggests he's repulsed by you, at least.

"That's good, at least. Maybe this way I won't accidentally kill anyone for opening a door loudly," you joke.

The silence that follows your words is deafening. You find yourself wishing that there were at least crickets in the room, as their chirps would be more responsive to your comedy than Jinchul is.

After a bit, he just lets out a small sigh. "I look forward to working with you, Ms. Sun."

[bookskeepers]

writing part one of "a little bit of love" and

hey, autofill ai? you need some love there, pal?

[bookskeepers]

how do people write like.... 14k word chapters... i struggle to grind out 1.7k....... I'm both impressed and intimidated

[bookskeepers]

a little bit of love ◇ prologue

content warnings: cheating, angst, reader endures physical violence/abuse, dubcon sex mentions, jinchul woo does NOT make an appearance, definitely all backstory, reader cuts someone's weewee off (#awakening), not proofread

word count: 1,785

author's note: hopefully this isnt ass... it might be lol i suck at writing exposition. anyways leave an ask / comment if you wanna be on the taglist for this <3

taglist: none yet

masterlist ◇ next

In the beginning, you were just an average person. Someone who went through the motions of similar tasks every day, someone who spent more time at the office than at home. Your coworkers knew you by name, and your neighbors always waved when they saw you. A kind soul, the kind of person to stop in the middle of the road if an animal was crossing. The kind to offer sugar to neighbors who asked for it without expecting anything in return, or the kind to hold open the door and wait patiently if the next person was further away than anticipated. The kind to always say 'please,' 'thank you,' and 'you're welcome.'

Perhaps it was your kindness that attracted him originally. After all, it's not every day that a C-rank hunter, someone well-known in your neighborhood, falls for the ordinary office worker, is it?

It began with him knocking on your door one evening and asking to borrow some ingredient; by now, you can't even remember the specifics. You had handed it to him with a warm smile on your face, engaging in polite conversation before finally closing the door.

The next few encounters were similar; they all involved him appearing at your doorstep and asking for something. First, it was more ingredients for more complex dishes, then it was to borrow a serving dish for a party, and finally, he asked you on a date. You had never thought to ask him where he first saw you -- you just assumed he was a neighbor on your floor. After all, you saw him around occasionally.

The relationship was lovely at first. He was all acts of service and gifts, showering you in affection and sweet words. Lavish dates that ended with the two of you tangled in bedsheets, cozy nights in with you wearing his hoodies. He even cooked for you (which was not something you really experienced in previous relationships) and showed you all the dishes he had asked ingredients for in the past. After a year together, he managed to talk you into ending your lease so you could move into his apartment, three floors above yours. Any and all warning bells were silent.

It was only in the third year of your relationship that things started going wrong. He became more interested in where you were going and who you were hanging out with. If you had told him you were going somewhere with a man, he'd insist on tagging along. Afterwards, when the two of you returned home, he'd tell you that the male friend was definitely into you and wanted to get into your pants. This was the case with any man that so much looked your way, and he used these explanations to justify telling you how to dress. If you wore anything too tight, you were a slut. If you wore anything too low-cut, you were a whore. If you so much looked at a man, you must have some form of feelings for them.

When these behaviors started, you had originally fought back. More often than not, there were screaming matches that led well into the night with the police being called multiple times by concerned neighbors. Each match ended with him tearfully apologizing to you, citing the stress of raiding and hunting as the source of his outburst. And, foolishly, you believed him each time and forgave him.

You started seeing your friends less and less, you dressed more modestly, and you never glanced at another person if you could help it. If neighbors came knocking on his door while you were the only one at home, you never answered. You tucked yourself away behind a shield of complacency, doing whatever you could to avoid those awful arguments. At night, or whenever he demanded, you let him have his way with you, allowing your body to be used as a toy. You didn't feel anything during those moments, because you realized rather quickly once things started deteriorating that he never took the time to learn how to pleasure you.

As time progressed and the relationship worsened, you became a shell of your former self. No longer did you hold the door open for people or say 'please' and 'thank you;' you barely spoke unless it couldn't be avoided. If you crossed a line, he would threaten you with his hunter-related abilities. More often than not you would find yourself sleeping on the couch, body trembling from pain due to the injuries he inflicted on you in a rage. It soon became apparent that your complacency was not enough to keep him happy; his accusations of your infidelity now ranged to include anyone you looked at, not just men. Even turtlenecks were no longer modest, and God forbid you wore anything but sweatpants. Your closet morphed from bright colors and flowy patterns to dull, drab grays and blacks. There had even been several occasions where he had appeared at your office when you weren't home at the time he expected you to be. He had been all smiles to strangers, but nothing but cruel and unforgiving at home.

But yet, you stayed. You knew that you wouldn't be able to afford to live elsewhere, since rent prices skyrocketed in your apartment building and your original unit had long been rented out. You barely saw your friends, the people who would've helped, as he never let you go out. Coworkers had made assumptions about your change in personality, chalking it up to a death in the family or mental health issues. After all, everyone has the occasional bad day, right?

Things came crashing down on a Thursday. The week itself had been relatively peaceful; he had not shouted at you, hit you, or done anything negative. In fact, he had been kinder than usual, once again giving you gifts and cooking homemade meals. The cycle of negativity had lasted so long that some part of you, buried deep-down, felt on edge by the sudden positivity. But, despite it all and despite his awful mistreatment of you, you decided to surprise him.

You knew that day he had no raids, so he'd be home. You had managed to get the okay to leave work early and stopped by a bakery on your way home to pick up some treats. They were artfully arranged in a box, and you took great care to ensure they'd remain intact on the metro.

You should've known something was off when your slippers were missing from the entryway. You chalked it up to misplacing them that morning, walking in socks through your apartment as a result. You should've known something was off when there were two cups set on the kitchen counter, one half-filled with a pale, fizzy liquid and the other empty. A frown fixated itself on your features as you continue through the abode, clutching the box tightly in your shaking hands.

Through some deep, well-woven denial despite the obvious hints, somehow, you still didn't think something was off when you stopped in front of the bedroom door. The faint thumping noises from within didn't register in your brain as you placed one hand on the handle, twisting it slowly, as if your subconscious was hoping to give whoever's inside a chance to cover up. With a deep breath, you swung the door open.

There he was, your boyfriend of four long, awful years, with some other woman on top of him, clearly naked. The box of pastries fell from your hands, landing on the ground with a thud.

He didn't even look shocked to see you, moreso annoyed that you had the audacity to interrupt his fun time. "You're home early," he had stated after a period of prolonged silence. The woman in his lap was looking at you over her shoulder, nervousness reflected in her gaze.

You had half-expected your initial response to be that complacency you often resorted to when he was angered, half-expected to let him get away with the exact act of infidelity he so often accused you of. But, to your surprise, it wasn't fear running through your veins at that moment: it was pure, unadulterated rage. Fiery hot spikes of anger had coursed from your toes to your arms to your brain, and all you were able to see in the moment was the color red.

"Are you kidding me?" you had asked, words incensed. Your fingertips had begun to itch with the urge to hit something. "I dealt with your bullshit for four fucking years, and this is how you repay me? By cheating on me after accusing me of being the cheater every day?"

His expression had turned from annoyance to irritation, and you were able to see the small jolts crackling along his skin. You had watched as he pushed the woman off of him, standing up from the bed in all his naked glory, his cock half-erect. "I put a roof over your head, you slut," he had spat at you.

You, once again, expected that usual feeling of fear to replace the wrath in your body as he stepped closer and closer to you. "It's crazy that you're calling me the slut when you're the cheater," you had responded, tone icy and cool. The fury in your veins only strengthened with his stupid double-standards coming into the light. At some point during your confrontation, the other woman had managed to slip away, unnoticed.

"It's not my fault I cheated," he snapped back. "You should be more entertaining in bed."

Something within you had broken at that moment. The resentment in your being had exploded, leaving behind volatile fireworks within your psyche. Some form of instinct took over as you lifted your left hand high before bringing it down, watching in awe as a blade made of compressed air sliced across your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend's body. You had faintly heard his screams, had watched as the part of his body that he loved the most -- his dick -- fell on the floor, detached from the rest of him, had watched as blood sprayed all over the front of his body as he fell to his knees, fumbling for his phone amongst the clothes on the floor.

You hadn't given him another word as you turned on your heel and left the apartment, officially single... and homeless.

You had managed to make it several blocks before finding yourself in front of the door to your friend's home, hands shaking and the vengeful feeling from before all but gone.

"What... what was that? How did I do that?" you had whispered to yourself before the world began to sway, and you collapsed.

[bookskeepers]

a little bit of love ◆ jinchul woo

pairing: jinchul woo (solo leveling) x fem!reader

content warnings: eventual smut, forbidden-esque romance, angsty, slowburn, probably not proofread (will add more general tags as series progresses), mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of cheating, mentions of trauma

extra: the reader is Y/N Song to avoid overuse of "Ms. L/N" lol

author's note: shoutout to @hiraethwa for helping me brainstorm this. ave deserves like 50% of the credit ngl

(no gifs of our boy, so an image it is <3)

In which you, a freshly awakend A-rank hunter, end up working rather closely with Jinchul Woo, the Chief Inspector of the Hunter's Association's Surveillance Team.

note: if a chapter has the emoji next to it, it is safe to assume that the content warning is explicit

😳 for smut; 🫥 for angst; 🥹 for fluff

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prologue 🫥

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

[bookskeepers]

cant wait for yall to see the fic I'm cooking up with my homeslice @hiraethwa fr we are chefs and tumblr is our restaurant

[hiraethwa]

when moot makes you fall harder for a 2d man unintentionally 😭 we fr slipped and the plot cooked itself

[bookskeepers]

yap session went TOO hard lowkey but its okay... soon the fruits of our labors will be revealed

[bookskeepers]

cant wait for yall to see the fic I'm cooking up with my homeslice @hiraethwa fr we are chefs and tumblr is our restaurant

[vincent-van-gtg]

[fitnessdesire]

Can’t risk it

[laderdesders1]

The duck of creativity. I waited so long for it.