#I can't fucking do this anymore. I can't do this

[ubeb0nes]

Things Sevika says as your lover…

❧ ❧ ❧

Let me do it. / I'll handle it. / Don't worry, I'll take care of it.

She wants to take care of you so, so bad. Whether that's opening every door and pulling out every chair for you, or wiping someone off the face of the earth in your name.

She's in her element when she's of service. Deep down, she thinks that as long as she proves useful then your continued affection is almost guaranteed.

Can't do that anymore, my woman/partner said so. / Wrap this up. I gotta get home to them.

She is yours, no ifs or buts about it. And she makes sure everyone knows how fiercely loyal she is, she will not be doing anything to disrespect your boundaries or your relationship.

Obviously her work and her abrasive nature will put a natural strain on some parts of your relationship, but she's never intentionally causing you distress. Loyalty's her most important personal value, and you have the most of hers.

No, get behind me! / I said stay here. / I need you safe, understand?

You're a culmination of everything she's fighting for. All the beauty of Zaun, her reason for sticking her heart in this city, you are all of that personified. So you can't die. You can't get hurt.

If she has to lock you in the house to keep you from following her into a death mission, she will. You'll understand. She's always taken a beating for the ones she loves, the role thrust upon her that she now clings to like a hardy mask.

Stand down. / Down, baby. / I don't care if you don't like it, follow orders.

If you follow her into combat, good luck with getting bossed around like crazy. She always keeps you in her line of sight, preferably also within three feet of you so she can jump in front of you to sacrifice another limb if need be.

She's also absolutely zero nonense while working. She isn't flirting with you or showing vulnerability in front of her crew, but she is relishing in getting to tell you what to do (and she expects you to heed immediately).

'S all for you, doll… / Mm-mm, you're not getting up… / Pretty thing… so warm… love you so much…

She only ever talks like this when she's sleepy, or just waking up. She doesn't say I love you much (outside of when she's leaving for work), as to her, it takes away from the weight of it (WRONG imo, but in character i think lol).

The sweetest sweetheart ever when she's all wrapped up in your arms. Her voice is even lower in the mornings, with a distinct gravel to her tone. She uses it to her advantage, whispering such sweet things in your ear as she "subtly" traps you in her arms to keep you in bed.

She keeps repeating the same things over and over again, praising you and professing her love like there's no tomorrow. Her favorite love language switches to words of affirmation while she's drowsy lol.

So good to me, god you keep me sane. / I'm gonna fuckin' give you everything… / You smell so good, I could eat you (she then does actually try to bite you and you scream and push her off the bed)

Nsfw under the cuttt~

Uh uh, don't run from me. / Stop moving. / You're gonna take it either way, don't whine.

One of your favorite games is to see how long you can hold out being a brat (i.e., closing your legs every time she spreads them, shifting your hips away, etc.) before you make her snap and she just manhandles you.

Her displays of strength are usually subtle, like lifting you steadily off the floor and laying you down slowly on the bed without struggle. But when you do finally get her to snap, she's flipping you over on the bed like a pancake, and holding you up against the wall with just her human arm as she fucks you. She barely breaks a sweat holding you down on the bed, no matter how strong or how determined your bratty ass may be.

I'm never fuckin' sharing you, baby. / Look at me. Don't look away, those are *my* pretty eyes, I wanna see them. / Is that good, doll? Whose making you feel good? Mhm, and don't forget it…

Chances are that you end up being the jealous one in your relationship rather than her. But she is extremely possessive. When she gets especially in a mood, she's intent upon fucking you until your brain melts and you're nothing but putty in her hands, obsessed with her.

She reminds you how good she makes you feel, and how she's the only one that can fuck you that way. You're always extra cuddly and touchy in the days following, and she loves it because she knows it means she's stuck on your mind.

[nerdlvr]

✩ mama

(MDNI)

smut , husband jeno x reader , hey mamas in a sexy way , impreg/breeding kink , just a quick lil thought blurb , big humongous ginormous jeno dick (canon) , smaller reader , no condom ofc thats the point y'all , rough dirty raw sex , doggy style ruff ruff , creampie , degradation kink , overstimulation , dacryphilia , daddy kink yikes! , pet names , requested here !

message to past self : do not ask your feral husband to give you a baby.

now you're 3 hours in, 5 orgasms later , and 8 inches deep, and your husband won't stop until he thinks you've had enough.

.

you slapped at his thigh, a helpless attempt to release the pressure he was putting on your womb.

"jen- jeno, please, s' full, i can't anymore." your choked sobs were like music to his ears, a low chuckle leaving his throat, "yeah you can mama, look at you-" he reached down to wipe your tears, his smirk growing wider.

his cock pulsed inside of you, releasing another spurt of cum into your leaking hole.

"hurts baby, hurts so good." he laughed at your words, proud of you for lasting this long, "so strong for me baby, love it when you milk my cock-" he pressed deeper into your cunt, your stomach clenching at the feeling of more cum seeping into you.

"take it, gonna look so good when that tummy starts to grow, hm? gonna want me to fuck you when your breasts are all swollen and you can barely walk?"

you nodded into the sheets, his large hand gripping the back of your neck as he pressed you deeper into the bed.

"yes jen- fuck, always want you to fuck me- need you to."

he finally released the pressure he had on you, cock slowly sliding out of your swollen cunt, your breath shaky as your body began to twitch.

"desperate little pussy- look at you, not even a drop going to waste."

you shivered as he ran a finger along your fold, chuckling as his cum remained soaked into your cunt, fingers only wet with your arousal.

he lined his length back up to your core, sinking in slowly, only a couple inches at a time. you sobbed into the sheets, the walls of your cunt burning as he teased you, "jeno please-"

he pressed in deep, hips flush against your ass as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "please what mama? don't tell me to stop- you know i can't."

he drove back into you, hand grabbing onto your hair to pull you up towards him, "say my name baby, who's the only one that can fill you up like this hm?"

you choked on your cries, voice weak as you spoke, "you, daddy only you, please please please."

he dropped you back onto the bed, hands moving to grip your ass, spreading you so he could get a clear view of you sucking in his cock.

"only me- only daddy can feed this hungry pussy, fuck you're perfect baby, made for me."

.

if you thought this was the end you were very much wrong. jeno only had one thing in mind, and he was going to get it done.

[naughtyjjk]

nanami kento hates masturbating

characters: nanami warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, that's pretty much it notes: happy new year!! i type this up in like 30 minutes lol. enjoy my first nanami smut of the year, and i promise i'll get to all my other unfinished wips soon <3

nanami finds it an inconvenience whenever he gets horny.

he hates that he's subjected to his body's desires, and he'll try to power through it every time, but it never works. it's so stupid.

he always tries to ignore it, but he can't focus on anything when his cock is hard in his pants. the bulge is so obvious, so big, that he can't hide it. and trying not to think about it only has the opposite effect; it becomes all he can think about, and it doesn't help that his cock twitches with need the longer he neglects it.

fuck, he thinks, why can't he get it under control? he's not a desperate teenager anymore. he has important things to do; he can't keep wasting time on masturbating.

it's only when his cock throbs, aching painfully, leaking with precum and creating a wet spot in his pants that he finally gives in. it's become unbearable. with a frustrated groan, he removes his belt and unzips his pants, unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes him as he pulls out his cock.

he spreads his legs, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. he feels it pulse eagerly against his palm, hissing as he fights to hold back a moan. he's so fucking hard already. there's enough precum that his entire length is slick as he starts to pump himself, dragging his hand all the way up to the tip and back down again.

his grip is loose at first, as if he's still in denial about how much he needs this. he convinces himself that he can go slow, that he only needs a bit of stimulation to ease his arousal. but soon, he's groaning and whining and stroking his cock like he means it—faster, harder, oh fuck—

it feels good. god, it feels so fucking good, and he can't stop. when he starts to get really into it, losing himself to the pleasure, he pulls up the bottom of his shirt and stuffs it in his mouth, biting down on it to try and muffle his sounds.

that's when his self-control snaps.

the thing is, he knows exactly what he likes. he has urges, he gives in when the temptation is too strong and he's too turned on, he's played with himself before. so he twists his wrist in a way that has him moaning, back arching forward. he pays extra attention to his cockhead, swirling his thumb around the tip and smearing the beads of precum that are spilling out.

"a-ah—hah—ngh—" his breathing comes out in shaky, ragged breaths. he's panting. his hips are moving on their own uncontrollably, without his permission, fucking into his fist like a wild animal giving over to its instincts.

he dips a finger into his slit, rolls his palm over the tip, and gasps. he strokes down the shaft, hips bucking up helplessly to meet himself halfway. his other hand slides up to his chest and pinches at his nipples. the moan that escapes him is awful, low and raspy, making it so obvious how turned on he is.

it's all so filthy, and he's close, he's fucking close. his cock is flushed a deep red, veins bulging out along his erection, streaks of precum flowing endlessly down the shaft. his balls feel so heavy, so full. god, he can't deny it at all anymore. he wants to come so bad.

he strokes himself in a steady rhythm that has him falling apart, trembling and squirming on the spot. it's too much, too overwhelming. and shit, he's so fucking close now. he's—he's going to come. his cock is about to burst, throbbing and throbbing and throbbing—

"oh, fuck—f-fuck—"

his muscles tense and his hips stutter as he squeezes around his cock. his mind goes blank. with a few more strokes, nanami comes hard, all over himself, painting his abs in white. it shoots out in spurts, thick and sticky, releasing everything that's been pent up since the last time he indulged himself.

the worst part is that it feels so damn good. his cock gives one last twitch and he thinks that he could get addicted to this, easily.

but the rational side of him tells him no. it's an inconvenience whenever he gets horny; an inconvenience to masturbate and jerk himself off. think of all the important things he has to do instead.

so he hates it. really, he does. next time, he promises himself that he won't give in to the temptation.

.

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian @l0rdgeosupport3rr @minni-creations @fos-tis-zois @the-reas0n-is-y0u @cantfeelherface @rxmbzzz @lysaray @zelzablues @str4wbrrycandy @that-goth-bisexual @simping4u @iminlovewqr0w @sharks31 @pseudowho @jisoonunn @outkasti @anathemaspeaks @fushigur0slut4 @barryatsumu @d0nk3y-k0ng @shasaaa15 @wil10wthetree @maskedpacific @genshingeeksworld @itsnotmelo

(comment to be added)

[dazzlingjaeyun]

do mean dom sunghoon overstimming reader as a punishment and i will give you my firstborn 🙏

cw: smut so MDNI! (fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation (duh), choking but not really, degradation but also praise, idek i'm just very confused)

hanna says: gimme the firstborn👹

"h-hoon, 's too much," you slur for the nth time, your boyfriends fingers relentlessly rubbing circles over your puffy clit. you try to squirm under him, but his other hand is holding your hips so tightly it almost hurts.

sunghoon's huff is the only sound that cuts through your whimpers and the squelching sounds of your wetness.

"i decide when it's too much," he replies through gritted teeth. "won't stop until the only thing you remember is my name," he mumbles, eyes fixated on your abused cunt and the way his fingers, fully covered in your arousal, moves from your clit down to your leaking hole once more.

the feeling of his digit against your entrance makes you look up at him with widened eyes. sunghoon thinks you're so pretty like this – your dress hiked up, the flimsy piece of clothing resting around your waist, straps daring to fall down from all the squirming underneath him and eyes filled with tears.

"hmm, already can't take it anymore?" he asks, his voice dripping with mocking sweetness, "but princess, i didn't even start."

your reply gets stuck in your throat when he pushes two fingers in, making you gasp and arch your back just another time.

"you wanted to be a slut, so i'll show you just what sluts get." and with that, he quickly pulls his hand away from your core and grabs both sides of your hips, manhandling you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up.

your head rests tiredly against the pillow as you try your best to stop your legs from shaking.

"say the word if it gets too much," his now soft voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts that are just filled with him, him, and him. his left hand gently massages your bruised hip, waiting for you to nod before all the gentleness disappears and he pushes his entire length in with one harsh thrust. the force of it would have been enough to make you lurch forward, if it wasn't for sunghoon's strong grip on your hips.

usually, he waits for you to adjust to him, but tonight he just can't wait to finally see you falling apart on his cock.

"so tight for me," he mumbles as he pulls out to his tip, only to slam his hips forward again. your hands weakly fist the sheets to somehow ground yourself as your boyfriend continues his movements.

"you think anyone else could fuck you like this?"

you try to shake your head, not trusting your voice, but you're too weak to even lift up your head from the pillow.

"right," sunghoon says, "pussy made just for me," he mumbles, repeatedly slamming his hips against yours, the tip of his cock meeting your cervix with each thrust.

it's too much and leaves you wanting more at the same time, your safe word constantly on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't get yourself to say it, it hurts too good :(

"mine mine mine," he grunts between harsh thrusts.

he lets go of your hip, his hand moving to your front to find your clit again. his fingers work fast, uncoordinated circles around your sensitive bud, way too captivated by how hard you're clenching him.

"s-sunghoon," you manage to whimper in between choked moans, feeling him twitch at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue like that.

"that's right, that's my good girl," he slurs, his free hand moving to your neck, pulling your torso up, your back leaning against his chest.

"want you to scream my name when you come undone on my cock," he demands, "i'm the only one who can make you feel like that, right?"

instead of replying, you just let your head fall back on his shoulder.

"your fault for being all flirty with my friends in that stupid short dress," he mumbles in your ear while his thrusts and his rubbing against your clit only grow harsher :(

that's what pushes you over the edge for the nth time that night. the intensity with which your walls are clenching around him making it almost impossible for him to move, as you just whimper a string of curses and his name, too far gone to form a coherent phrase.

when you come down from your high, the temporary pleasure giving way to pain, you weakly grab his wrist, tapping your finger on his skin to signal him to stop.

"fuck– almost there," sunghoon replies, not stopping his thrusts but slowing them down just a bit, "just a little longer, can you do that for me?"

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2025. please do not copy.

[backinmyphase]

Failing student! Sukuna who didn't really care about all the missed lessons he had in his record. He didn't, not even when the principle called him into his office. Who cared about what that old hag had to say?

He really didn't care, just until he saw you sitting there with that horrified look as you saw him.

You, the president of the student council, who he had always thought was a stuck up bitch. Always a nerd, always getting good grades, always following the rules. Utterly boring, that's what he thought about you. But still fun to tease.

Failing student! Sukuna who is annoyed as hell with the fact he had to hold a little meeting with miss perfect and the old man. He takes a seat, the only other one which was unfortunately next to you.

"You can't be serious?!" you turned your look to the old man. Your voice was annoyingly high pitched.

"I can't... Not him!"

Now you had his attention. He turned to you, seeing you not even sparing him a glance anymore. "Woah, woah, what's with me, sweetheart?"

You kept ignoring him and just shook your head. "Please, I can tutor anyone else, but not..."

Failing student! Sukuna couldn't help but laugh at your horrified and desperate face as you started pleading with the principle who was just shaking his head. Your pathetic attempts to argue were almost cute.

"If you really want my recommendation for your college application, that's my only condition. Get Sukuna's grades up."

Failing student! Sukuna 's  Laughter died down as he realized what that meant.

"Wait a second, I don't need tutoring! And especially not from goody two shoes over here."

"Oh, believe me goody two shoes doesn't want to have anything to do with wannabe bad boy too-"

"Quiet you two!" the old man cleared his throat. "Sukuna, you haven't showed up to two thirds of your classes, you need tutoring. And Y/n if you really want to work for that recommendation you'll help him with that."

"Now get out of my office you two."

Failing student! Sukuna is in disbelief to what the fuck just happened as he and you stood outside of the office. You stood there with crossed arms and a fuming expression he had never expected from you.He just turns around to leave as you let out a groan in frustration.

"So when will our lessons start?"

He scoffs. "Never."

You followed his steps and kept that demanding tone. "Sukuna, you can't just decide that, the principle ordered us-"

"I don't care what that old man says and I especially do not care about that little recommendation of yours." he yawned as he kept his steady steps. "I don't need better grades."

You stop in your tracks and he's almost disappointed by your lack of stubbornness until you say-

"You are that hard of a loser?"

Failing student! Sukuna is immediately turning around to see your smug expression. Flabbergasted at your words, because there was no way the biggest nerd of the school just called him a loser?

"What the fuck did you just say?"

And he doesn't know why but that devious grin that forms on your face is starting to fire something inside of him up.

"You're a loser." you sarcastically sighed. "I mean failing in high school? I don't even know how you achieve something like that."

You giggled. "I mean, you probably couldn't better your grades till the end of the year, even with my help. Let alone ever be better than me."

Failing student! Sukuna doesn't even realize how you had him wrapped around your finger as he glared at your smug grin.

"Of course I could. And you know what?" he took big steps towards you, now towering above you. "I could do it even until next month, sweetheart."

And then you smirk. "If you think so. But to prove it to me..." you let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess you would have to come to my lessons."

"Oh, I will come to your fucking lessons." he didn't know why he was so worked up, but he couldn't help it as he glared at you.

"Perfect. See you tomorrow in the library after class." And with that you just turn around and leave him standing there. Shouting a quick "Don't you dare be late, you loser!" back to him.

Failing student! Sukuna doesn't know what's gotten into him as he watches you leave, but he can't help but start smirking too, because who would've thouth the stuck up president of the student council had such a foul mouth?

It was hot.

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

I wanted to go find the source for it and -after a long search- did find the original tweet from August 21, 2012 from the fan and I see it has 14 Retweets, but thanks to El*n M*sk's shitty changes, it can't be viewed who RT'd it anymore.

As a general info, Andy Davies was one of One Direction's security team for 9 months, in 2012. He announced that he'd quit on October 24, 2012. (more info a little further below) Fun fact: people on Twitter (unseriously) shipped him with One Direction's tour manager (Paul Higgins) and Andy knew about it; was a good sport about it.

On Andy's Twitter profile (@/greenstreet51) on desktop, it won't load anything earlier than August 22, 2012 for me, which is really fucking weird. So I cannot verify the RT myself. (if anyone has the link, please let me know so I can add it here)

Andy RT'd a lot from fans in general and replied to many people almost daily.

If he retweeted the tweet about Harry and Louis (which I personally believe he did), he might have deleted that RT again afterwards. But as I said, I cannot say without a link source.

He also implied that he was not allowed to take pictures with the band:

From my personal work experience, that is very normal.

He posted 2 pictures with band members, though, that others took of him. One with Niall, posted (but not taken) on May 8, 2013...

..and one with Harry and him (posted, but not taken, on April 23, 2013), seemingly taken by a concert photographer:

* On October 24, 2012 he announced that he's no longer working for One Direction.

He was asked about what had happened many, many times and always replied that it had nothing to do with the boys themselves at all.

and something I find particularly interesting is this tweet:

"certain people (not [the] boys)"

Well weLL Wellington...

Andy tried to get a security firm off the ground in 2013, but nowadays he looks to be living in Lithuania and manufacturing and selling shirts and school uniforms.

Andy

the boys security guard RTed this 

[hvnlygrl]

hii can u do rafe cameron

can u pls do soft!rafe cameron or soft!jj maybamk where reader and him get into an argument and then he storms out and then the next morning reader gets her period, and when he comes home he just sees her lying on the bed eith a heating pad so he decides to make her a cookie skillet with nutella in it and ice cream on top of it and when he gives it to her she immediately starts sobbing and covering her face with the back of her hand telling him how shes so sorry and that she wished she never foughr with him and then he just comforts her and helps her eat while they watch a movie

i take it all back.

pairing — rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count — 1.3k

warnings — lotta cussing, reader gets a little mean, argument between rafe/reader, hurt/comfort.

synopsis — after a fight with rafe due to your hormones during that time of the month, he goes out of his way to make you feel better.

notes — sorry i kinda went in a little bit of a different direction with this i hope that's okay! but the general idea is still the same... thank you for the request! it's such a sweet idea <3

it had never bothered you before, the sound of rafe on his game in the spare bedroom, but for some reason the loud sounds of him on the headset with his friends were driving you up the wall while you tried to watch your show in the living room. 

you sighed out in annoyance when you heard him for what seemed like the 20th time in 5 minutes, “GO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? TOPPER GET HIS ASS!” 

you clicked the volume up on the t.v. in front of you, head beginning to ache from the loudness of the show mixed with the loudness from the game room. you were unsure of how to handle the situation. you didn’t want to ruin rafe’s fun on the game, and you surely didn’t want to start an argument with him but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

you paused the show, stood from the couch and stomped your way down the hallway. you didn’t bother knocking on the door since you knew he wouldn’t hear it, instead opening it as soon as you reached it. “rafe,” you called out. no answer. he continued clacking at the keys on the p.c., shouting orders at topper and kelce over the headset. “rafe,” you called out again, quite a bit louder this time. still no answer. 

at this point you were fed up. you were unsure of where the blind rage came from, but before you knew it you yanked the headset from his head. 

“what the-y/n? what the fuck are you doing?” he shouts at you, his eyes flitting back and forth between the computer screen and your angered expression. 

“can you shut the fuck up, dude? i’m trying to watch my show,” you grumble at him as if it's obvious. 

“woah,” he cocks his head back at your statement, “chill out.” 

now you’re really pissed. “don’t tell me to fucking chill out!” 

“babe, it’s not that serious,” he continues clacking at the keys on the game. 

“it is that serious. you try watching your favorite show and listen to me hooting and hollering from the next room. it’s fucking aggravating and i can't take it anymore right now.” 

rafe rolls his eyes. “i don’t know what you want me to tell you, y/n, it’s really not that serious. i’m doing my thing and you’re doing yours. you don’t see me busting through the door to get on your ass about the t.v. being too loud.” 

you can hear the oohs and ruh-rohs coming from the headset, only adding fuel to the fire. 

“oh my god, dude, can you just act like a fucking adult for five minutes? you don’t have to play fortnite every single night with your gay ass homeboys. maybe you could spend time with your girlfriend instead of being on the game from the second you get home until hours after i fall asleep.” 

“that is so not true and you know it, bruh.” 

“if you’re gonna play the game and not even interact with me, then just go do it at your own damn apartment. i’m not fucking dealing with this right now. i have a migraine and i don’t want you here tonight.”

rafe can't ignore the pang that shoots through his heart at your words. “seriously? you’re kicking me out?” 

“yeah,” you mutter softly before leaving the room and heading back to the living room. cramps begin overtaking the muscles in your stomach, only adding to your agitation. you breathe out shakily, your throat beginning to tighten as you watch him grab his bag and storm out. 

once the door slams behind him, a wave of guilt washes over you, your eyes watering as you smack yourself for kicking him out. all you wanted was for him to stop being so loud and now he’s on the way back to his apartment, pissed at you for embarrassing him in front of his friends and for sending him home.

you lie down on the couch, allowing the tears to stream freely as your thoughts get darker and crueler toward yourself. you sob deeply, arms wrapped around a pillow until you finally fall asleep. 

about an hour or so later you wake up, shuffling into the bathroom, you notice your appearance in the mirror; cheeks puffy and eyes swollen from crying. the sight only makes you feel worse. you sit on the toilet, letting out a harsh sigh when you notice the blood that pooled in your favorite pair of panties. after already feeling like a piece of shit both physically and mentally, here was mother nature three days early, ready to screw you over even more. 

you couldn't help but tear up again at the inconvenience, suddenly realizing what happened tonight. you wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid and not noticing the signs, but you knew that it was too late now. after heading to your bedroom to find a new pair of underwear and shorts, and spotting the dirty pair before throwing it into the wash, you head back to the living room. 

your heart beats in your throat as you pull out your phone to text rafe. 

after the conversation with him you felt a lot better about the situation, but you were still feeling pretty upset. you rummaged through the kitchen, checking the cabinets and the fridge and freezer for any type of food that would satisfy your cravings. of course, you had absolutely nothing that would help. you sighed as you shuffled back toward the living room, opting to just lie on the couch and watch your show until you fell back asleep. 

you knew the thought was dramatic, but you couldn’t help but wonder when your life turned into this; alone in an apartment that was too big for you with nothing you wanted and no one to share it with. 

and then you heard a knock on the door. despite it being his signature knock, you couldn't stop yourself from checking the peephole, heart fluttering when you saw the blonde on the other side of the door.

you quickly opened it, a soft smile on your lips. “what are you doing here?”

“did you really think i was gonna let you be alone on night one?” rafe raises a brow at you before revealing two grocery bags he’d been hiding behind his back. he had made a run to the local store for all your favorite sweets, chips, icecream, drinks, and anything else he could think of. he even bought you a heated stuffed animal that could be thrown into the microwave and used as a heating pad.

“baby,” your lips curl down into a frown, eyes watering at the gesture, “you’re too nice to me.” 

“of course i am,” he chuckles as he sets the items down on the coffee table, “you’re my girl.” 

you watch in awe as he grabs your favorite cup, fills it with ice and pours your drink into it. then he grabs the stuffed turtle (your favorite animal) and heads to the kitchen to throw it into the microwave for a couple minutes. 

“get comfy, babe,” he calls out to you, “get your show set up, do whatever you gotta do.” 

you smile at him sweetly. “you didn’t have to do all this, rafe.” 

“i know,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “i wanted to.” 

“thank you,” you whisper when he brings the warmed turtle over to you. you moan happily when you stick it onto your lower abdomen, the sensation immediately easing some of the pain. “i don’t deserve you.” 

“sure you do,” rafe huffs as he kicks his shoes off and gets comfy next to you, “how many times have you taken care of me? saved my ass without me even thinking to ask you for help?” 

you nod, “yea, i guess you’re right. i’m sorry about what i said earlier baby, i take it all back.” 

“don’t stress,” he holds his hands up, “water under the bridge, my girl.” 

you smile at him, admiring his features before turning your gaze back to the t.v. and snuggling in closer to him. “i love you.”

“i love you,” he parrots back, hand rubbing at your lower back in the spot that he knows typically bothers you. 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @lanasb0ngwater

[hungrykeaton]

Been watching you for a good while and this December you've truly exploded

A round ball gut in need of such constant stuffing it's left you covered in stretch marks and perpetually bloated

I have to wonder if you can even spend a day eating what a "normal person portions" how fast would you need a little snack or something more

Furthermore after this holiday marathon do you even have a sense of how much your body you grew?

cramping calories down your throat turning to fat what your body looks like now?

And I bet read after this you can't help but want more to eat 🤭😘

I’m a little embarrassed I don’t know how much is a “normal” amount to eat anymore. My default is to just get the biggest thing on the menu and then another entree or two, but I know that’s way more than “normal”

only when I look at pictures can I see what all this fucking holiday eating did to my gut 🥵

Sitting at my desk leaves an imprint of the side of it now since it bulges up against it when I’m leaning back and pulled up to it 😫 it also feels so good to have my gut resting up against it

If my gut keeps getting bigger I think the desk is going to keep making deeper and longer intentions 🥵🥵🥵

Even after all this though I still want more food in me despite how fucking big my gut is 😩

[prlssprfctn]

I awfully need a fic, where Jason gets drugged by a big dose of fear toxin and starts seeing Joker's hallucination around — kind of like Bruce in Arkham Knight game, you know — and everyone is just... confused what to do with all of it?

They can't really produce antidote because it would fuck up his mind more, so he is stuck in the cave for the next 24 hours, and no one is leaving, because they can't allow Jason to go through this alone. Again.

Jason tries to put a brave face of course (god, he is THE Red Hood, one of the most influential people in the Gotham, he can't be afraid of a stupid clown–) but the more hours pass, the less he can control his fear or anxiety. Instead of pacing around like a ghost — he did that in the first four hours — he sits down on the couch, hugs himself, and starts answering to Joker?

Yeah, he knows he is not real. He understands that feeding hallucination with conversations will not help — and Dick, the ultimate expert in handling hallucinations, really, gave him some tips on what to do — but he can't just ignore it now.

He is too scared.

He remembers what comes if he flips off Joker or stops playing by his rules, alright?

"Knock, knock!"

Joker's face is as pale and terrifying as Jason remembers it to be. And maybe it is hallucination, but he still can feel his panted, hot breath on his ear.

He is alone, of course. Or not entirely alone, but others would notice if Joker was really here, right?

"Who is this?" He whispers, sensing his family tensing a little, not being sure what to expect.

Jason either argues with his hallucination or asks to stop. Or maybe just wordlessly scraps on his temples or cheek, in the place the J scar used to be, before the Lazarus Pit erased it from his body completely, leaving no traces.

"The stray dog that can't bark! Do you know why it can not bark, Jayjay?"

"I don't fucking know," he murmurs, but the fiericness with which he screamed at this man for hours now is gone; he sounds tired even to his own ears, and it is embarrassing. "Tell me."

"Because I broke its bones with a crowbar, silly!~" Joker shakes his shoulders, and Jason can practically feel the familiar ache of shattered bones. "It– Ahahah, it is too hurt to bark! It can only whine!"

Jason laughs.

His facial expression doesn't really change — he is still frowning a little — but he laughs with a painful wheeze. Joker is pleased enough to sigh dreamily in his ear.

Good job, Jason.

"What so funny?" Dick asks carefully, a patient smile on his face — he has been trying to distract him with conversations the most; Bruce prefers to keep his silence, and Tim thinks accidental physical touches help more than talking.

"He just said a joke," Jason shrugs weakily.

"Tell it to them," Joker orders. "Let us all laugh."

He doesn't really want to. But he can't disobey. He can't allow himself to die again, and–

"Knock, knock," he clears up his throat.

"Who is this?" Tim echoes, turning his chair to him, smart eyes scanning him up and down.

"The stray dog that can't bark," Jason tugs the tips of his own hair. "Do you know why it can not bark?"

Bruce tenses in his chair. He tenses in a way, Jason thinks, he already knows this joke; he has already heard it before. He almost looks as if he wants to stop him, cut mid-sentence.

But for some reason, he doesn't.

"Uh, why?" Dick tilts his head.

"Because my– its bones are broken," Jason stutters. "You know, dogs can't really bark when they are hurt? Just whine."

He can't bring himself to laugh again, even though Joker keeps giggling over and over.

"That's not funny, Jay," Tim murmurs.

"Yeah. I guess it isn't. But if I don't laugh, he'll get the crowbar again, and I really, really want to keep barking," Jason smiles.

He tries to ignore pitful glances of his family members, and the torture continues. No one breaks his bones this time, but Jason still whines when Bruce hugs him by the end of the night, pressing to his chest.

Joker is not here anymore, but Jason still can hear his taunting whisper, somewhere in the back of his head.

You will die his son.

[druid-in-hiding]

Holy hells. I hate reading posts and going "Yeah. Me too. That's me too."

"Old soul"? Was told that so fucking young I can't even remember a time when I wasn't called that. I was the family therapist from about elementary school onward. And when I stopped being that by getting a fucking girlfriend (later my wife), that led to a complete estrangement with the family because obviously I was rejected them. Couldn't have been the undiagnosed (now diagnosed 40 fucking years later) ADHD. Couldn't have been me asking desperately for help on how to handle life, because I already "knew about life" cause I was an old soul and obviously was in touch with my reincarnations!

Must be me channeling bad spirits and not the trauma of an abusive workplace or poverty. I mean I was prepped to ascend into godhood AFTER "leaving this primitive space-time" so obviously if I was failing at work, I was doing so "deliberately". Homeless you say, with 3 kids and a wife? Well, obviously that's your choice, said my (still) rich parents.

And my estranged dad--who suffered horribly for about 40 years--didn't have psoriatic arthritis, which I had to uncover as a diagnosis for myself BECAUSE IT'S GENETIC due to doctors just repeating the mantra "you are old and fat" rather than, oh, actually diagnosing me. Instead, for my dad, it was just karma because in the course of his job for the Army, he killed a man. Or maybe he was suffering because he was working with dolphin spirits to keep California from sliding into the ocean. My mother still doesn't believe he had an illness.

Couldn't be just an illness. Could it? >:(

And there was my dear friend... no... she wasn't an angel / alien incorporated in a body that suffers. That would be the trauma from the fucker who date-raped you.

I am a man of faith--an animist--who gets teased because "who follows that shit anymore?", when "that shit" (animism) boils down to analyze patterns-treat the pattern as-is instead of bringing your pre-conceptions to the table. Which is a fuckton healthier than "Suffering? Nah. Must be a planetary mis-alignment mucking up your chakras. Have you had your crystals cleaned lately?"

If it ain't clear, I hate new age / spiritualism with a white hot burning rage.

I’m taking the words “cortisol,” “dopamine addiction” and “vagus nerve reset” away from marketers and influencers and putting them on a shelf.

[a-lurking-fae]

It's 7 in the morning but I HAD TO WRITE THIS DOWNNN

What if Fontainian!Reader + A/B/O dynamics + ill reader?? But the reader isn't an omega, no. They'd be a beta, and as we know, betas aren't that suseptive to pheromones at all, some not even noticing it.

In a family filled with strong Alphas, a simple beta is just... there? A weak beta that's quite out of place, are you really sure you belong there?

You don't notice how people run from you. They're scared of you for some reason? You don't notice the furious pheromones of your family when someone tells you you're a stain.

Whenever Bruce lectures you, that's the only time you actually talk to him. You don't know that he as been emmiting pheromones that literally scream "It's ok." or "Don't be scared."

No. He's straight up intimidating, he doesn't know you can't smell pheromones, he never really took the time to know you. You could've been an omega and he would even know. So you think he's super angry!

But, apparently Bruce can't help the bitch face and rough tone (っ ͡ ͡º - ͡ ͡º ς). Now if Fontainian reader was sick, I don't mean like terminal diseases from earth— I'm thinking about the abyssal corrosion. If the reader was an adventurer, it wouldn't be a surprise if they ran into the abyss.

But let's add the fact your the Hydro Archon's granddaughter, and the fact that your also the Hydro Dragon's granddaughter! You'd make such a good target, if your cursed, you don't have much to lose anymore.

So you pack your bags and leave for Fontaine, leaving the family for good. So you left a note for Alfred, telling him all about your situation. He'd be distressed! Alfred would tell Bruce, convincing him to get you. You were his daughter, why would he leave you to die!

Bruce promised himself that he wouldn't let another of his kids die, but here you were, that thing in your system killing you painfully and slowly.

Bruce knows about Teyvat, that's where your mother was from. He never met your grandparents, he'd like to know them now. The family faces another problem though, how do they get there?

Dick would skimm through your journals and diary, trying to find any clues on how to to you. But you've written it in another language, something that never existed in earth. And if you were well-versed in most languages in Teyvat, you guys know that when your super angry, sometimes you speak in all of them.

So instead of Tim and Barbara finding a pattern in your stuff, it's filled with multiple mixes of mysterious languages. Any progress would end up with another dead end.

Duke is absolutely happy, the both of you were the same age! Basically twins, both your birthdays a few days apart. You were the only sense of normalcy that he always craved, something most of the fucked-up-and-traumatized family members couldn't do. But when you left, that sense of stability started to fade. He worries about you day-and-night, he hopes that you'll be home soon.

Cass would learn normalcy from you, she was a trained weapon, she didn't have any clue what to do with you. After all, you always did your best to understand and teach her about emotions. She appreciates you a lot. You took care of her when she was sick, bandaged her up when she was injured, and baked her snacks. She wants to experience it with you again.

Damian's family is very much traditional. So he most likely would be angry, how could you leave them? Not only are they capable Alphas, but they're powerful as well. It was your adventuring in that world that got you sick. You should have simply stayed at home. When you get back to the mansion, you'll sit tight until they find a cure.

If it was Nicer!Damian, then he would be angry at himself. He wasn't enough for you to stay in Gotham, he promises that he'll be a better brother. He knows you could die any time there with the abyss and all! He nags Bruce and Tim to find you faster. Motivating them with the fact Teyvat is dangerous, wars there are going on! It was finished, also, Inazuma was far as fuck!

All-in-all, they'd do everything in their power to reach you, so they'd recruit the Justice league, especially Diana. She's well versed in these stuff after all. The Al Ghul's would help too. Checking family records if there were any thing pertaining to Teyvat.

Meanwhile, in Teyvat. You're swimming with the sea lions with Neuvilette and Furina, who took time off to spend time with their grandchild.

[synvil]

Interested // VID : 002 » Viewing Pleasure (( Camgirl! Series ))

a/n : ahhh thank you for the love and support ! <3 feel free to leave thoughts, comments or suggestions, either in the comments or my ask box! :3 picture found online.

btw i can’t fucking think of titles for the life of me.

synopsis : things between you and jj get a little tense. meanwhile another person seems to grow infatuated with you and you’re getting a little excited for your next stream?

agh i’m so bad at titles and summaries ;-;

Vid : 001 // Vid : 003

viewing pleasure m.list

“Add to cart~!”

You squeal in excitement, unable to contain your joy as you make your first purchase online after your payment came in from your first stream.

"Haha, I can't believe it. I can even afford to get same-day delivery."

JJ stands at a distance, watching you with his arms crossed and his lips in a thin line. His eyes are unable to leave your form, constantly trailing up and down your body, always finding itself on the round of your ass. He bites his lip, attempting to be discreet as he taps his fist on the surface of the countertop a few times before clearing his throat. "So, I assume it went well."

“You kidding?” You whirl your head towards him with shining eyes. “It went way better than i thought. I’m so relieved.”

JJ gives a bitter smile, his brow twitching slightly. “So you made some decent money then. That means you’re not going to stream anymore?” He says, making his way over, pulling at his shirt to tuck it over his pants in hopes it covers the visible erection.

“Hmm.. no, I might continue.” You say, watching as he takes a seat beside you, and his brows furrow. “What? I thought you made enough money for rent.”

“well, yeah, but I like being able to make so much money.. and I had a lot more viewers for my first stream than expected.” You reason, setting your phone down after making the purchase. “I mean, I don’t have to stress about finding another job that pays me so little, and with streaming, I can work any time, any day.”

JJ sits up straight as he narrows his eyes at your reasoning. Being able to make money fast was nice but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your body online. “[Name], what about all the creeps online? Who knows what kind of weird old perverts were saving videos and pictures of you?”

Your frown becomes evident on your face, but part of you knew he was right. Streaming wasn’t the safest activity and you didn’t want to sound greedy, but having that much money was more important to you right now. You’d only keep going to make enough to save for bills and stuff, while also saving enough for your own miscellaneous purchases. But..

“I know you’re right but i’ll be okay, J. Besides..” a flush overcomes your cheeks as you shyly look away, feeling embarrassed to admit this to your best friend.

“I kinda liked the attention.. It’s nice hearing and reading everyone complimenting me and liking what they saw. I might do more, but I won’t go crazy with it. I’ll only do it until I make enough in savings.”

JJ hitches a breath, his eyes widening when he hears your confession. It wasn’t anything serious but the way his cock twitches and his heart pounds makes him look away. “You..like showing off your body?”

“Y-Yeah..” You nod in confirmation, pink tints on your cheeks as you look away.

The blonde swallows a bit, holding his breath to gain some control as he turns away. “Shit.”

“JJ?”

“I gotta go. Talk to you later.” He abruptly stands and walks off, heading out of your house and to the door, shutting it behind him as he mounts his truck and drives away.

Your taken back and wonder if your confession drove him away, sighing softly and feeling a bit of guilt filling you up as you turn back to your phone and try to distract yourself.

“Who would’ve thought?..”

Rafe found himself repeatedly looking through your photos on your social media, in disbelief that you were on Kildare Island with him. And it pissed him off knowing how close you were with Maybank, seeing the many pictures of the two of you together.

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed you two were together.

But how has he never seen you before..? He’s practically grown up with JJ yet he can’t seem to recall ever seeing someone like you around.

Surely he’d remember someone so fucking attractive.. his thumb can’t seem to swipe away from your bikini photos.

Before he could admire any more, Topper sends him a text.

‘Bro, were you watching the link I sent you? Holy shit, she’s so hot. What I wouldn’t give to get a chance to fuck her.’

Rafe scoffs at the text as he rolls his eyes. Of course he noticed Topper's user donating money to your stream as well. Topper was really irritating sometimes. It seems all he could care about was sex and money. You definitely seemed like the type of person who was very sweet, innocent and pure.. someone who he could easily destroy and corrupt from how petite you were, as he hovers over you and slowly travels his hands down to your cunt, the same pussy you were rubbing just yesterday and—

“What the fuck?”

Rafe lets out a shaky breath, catching himself and his thoughts, unaware of his hardened cock in his tight jeans, the desperation to be freed evident from how painful it was becoming.

He brings his hand down and palms himself for a moment, doing anything to relieve himself before he grunts and pulls his hand away. There was no way he was going to be jerking off to someone he didn’t even know existed until now.

“Shit, I need some fucking air.” And despite the restricting pain of his jeans against his cock, he swipes his keys off his desk and heads out, taking his bike on a ride.

"Ugh, so damn stubborn." JJ plops down on his couch, dragging a hand over his face as he inhales heavily. He pulls out his phone and finds himself scrolling through social media. The blonde was sitting at home, frustrated at your insistence to keep streaming. Surely you made enough to cover rent for the next month or so, so why did you want to keep streaming for everyone to see?

It fills him to the brim with jealousy. No one should be looking at you in that way. Much less, a particular kook.

Shit, he was so distracted by you that he forgot what happened during your stream. "Fucking Cameron.. the nerve of that bastard." He scowls, conflicted about what to be more annoyed at. You continuing to stream or Rafe Cameron being one of your viewers.

“Delivery!”

Pounding on the door snaps JJ from his thoughts as he looks up from his phone, thumb instinctively shutting off the device to hide the fact that he was sifting through the photos of you two together. “Comin’!”

With a sigh, the blonde runs a hand through his hair as he makes his way out of his room towards the door. He opens the front door to see a familiar man behind the screen and he feigns a smile. “Rich, always a pleasure.”

Growing up on Kildare meant a lot of the residents knew each other, including the delivery man, who had a mutual disliking towards JJ, grimacing at the sight.

But JJ merely just shares a playful grin. “It wouldn’t kill you to smile, y’know. Afraid you’ll get wrinkles?” He jokes and the man rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Maybank. You’re lucky I don’t throw your damn package in the ocean.”

JJ gasps at that, widening his eyes childishly. “Well, that’s not very environmentally friendly!” He laughs as he takes the box from his hands. “But anyway, what the hell is this? I didn’t order anything.”

“Well, it’s not my problem now.” Rich hands over the device and pen for JJ’s signature. JJ fiddles with the box, inspecting it curiously before taking the device to sign. “What is it?”

Grunting in annoyance, the delivery man swipes the device from Jj’s hands. “The fuck should I know? Piss off, Maybank.”

Scoffing at the rudeness, JJ turns around and kicks the door shut with his foot before walking over to the counter in the kitchen. He finally sees the address line on the box and recognizes his house address but the name piques his interest.

“[Name]?” He murmurs, confusion lacing his eyes as he pulls out his phone. “Must’ve forgot to change it from last time..” He taps along the screen before reaching your contact.

« [Nickname] / Princess 😘😍 »

Out of curiosity, as he’s typing away a message, he goes over to a drawer and pulls out a pocket knife before heading back over to the package. It must've been the package you had ordered earlier.

‘Hey, a package came to my house with your name on it. Think it got sent here by mistake. Want me to drop it off?’

Once sent, JJ sets aside his phone and cuts through the top of the box with ease, expecting it to be some clothes or such you bought for yourself.

But the item inside was completely unexpected.

JJ’s mouth becomes dry as he attempts to wet it by swallowing whatever he could as he looks inside.

Inside the box was a remote controlled, vibrating toy.

“D-Did she buy this for her next stream..?” JJ breathily exhales, his jaw clenching at the way his hardening cock twitches at the imagination of you rubbing the vibrating wand over your clit, and the possible lewd noises you’d illicit.

“Fuck..” Maybe another stream couldn’t hurt. He was conflicted. He couldn’t let you do this on camera, but he’d be damned if the thought didn’t excite him. His mind reverts back to your words.

‘“I kinda liked the attention..”

“Y-You liked showing off your body?”

“Yeah..”’

JJ clears his throat as he closes back up the box, finding a roll of tape in his drawer and securing it back up before setting it somewhere else for you.

As he sets it down, his phone buzzes from a text from you.

‘DON’T OPEN IT JJ! I’ll come by and pick it up soon’

JJ grunts at the message and exhales sharply, turning off his phone. “Too late..” He mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, J. I’ll try and stop by later tonight. Need anything while I’m out?” You take the box from his hands, JJ seemingly uncharacteristically avoiding your direct gaze. Regardless, he shakes his head as he clears his throat, leaning against the doorframe as he crosses his arms. “Hey- So, you’re streaming today?”

You carry the box towards your car, visibly relieved to see it untouched and smile lightly before turning to JJ. “Yeah, why? You gonna try and talk me out of it again?”

“No-! No-“ He clears his throat again when he realizes his outburst and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Uh, just- good luck, y’know. I’m sure it’ll be great. And hey- we can reschedule tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You set the box on the bottom of your car in the back and furrow your brows at his words. “Thanks. But we’ll see. I should be able to come over on time if I’m not busy, but i’ll let you know.”

“Of course.” The blonde manages a smile, sending you finger guns before he waves you off. “Drive safe.��

Entering your car, you wave goodbye before pulling out and driving towards the Yacht Club, on the border of the Cut and Figure Eight.

“Dude, you should’ve watched til the end of the stream. It was amazing.”

Topper’s voice is heard when Rafe Cameron steps onto the large dock, walking past various other patrons on the benches and tables, and stepping up to the bar where Topper and Kelce stood.

Kelce shakes his head at Topper’s gushing. “Nah, man, streamers aren’t my thing. I mean, why would I spend so much on some girl i don’t even know and won’t even get to touch.” Kelce notices Rafe approaching and nods at him in acknowledgment. “Hey, you agree with me right?”

“Agree with what?” Rafe says as he stands beside them and Topper scoffs lightly. “You watched the link I sent you right? God, she’s so hot. You should’ve seen what she did before she ended her stream. I bet she’s streaming again today.”

Rafe barely manages to hide his eye roll, his hands clenching into fists. If he was holding a glass, he was almost sure he’d crack it. Something in him stirred the more Topper talked about you, and it made him angry. He had to maintain his self control before he punched the shit out of him.

But it made Rafe confused. Why was he so angry every time Topper opened his stupid fucking mouth? He had the exact same thoughts about you.

Was it because another man was talking about you? It wasn’t like you were his. He hardly even knew you. Is it jealousy?

Tch. Rafe Cameron, jealous? He hasn’t felt jealous since years ago, when his then still alive father was always favoring his sister over him. Rafe Cameron was not jealous.

He barely pays attention to Kelce and Topper, and instead catches a familiar voice nearby.

“Thanks, Sofia. It was actually more helpful than I thought, so thanks for telling me about it.”

“No problem, [Name]. I actually watched it last night, you were great.” Her playful wink makes you laugh a bit bashfully and embarrassingly as you wave it off. “I’m still a bit shy but I think what I bought today will help me a little more this time.”

Sofia slides something across the counter for you and you send a grateful smile as you pick it up. “Thanks. Good luck with the rest of your shift. I should be free this weekend if you’re down to hang out.”

“Actually, this weekend was when I was planning to stream.” She says apologetically and you only grin at her. “I’ll be watching you then. I could learn a thing or two.”

You both share giggles with one another before she’s called somewhere else and waves goodbye to you. You wave farewell and take the item off the counter before turning away.

But as soon as you do so, you meet eyes with someone, who’s staring intensely at you with parted lips, almost like they couldn’t believe you were standing before them.

Giving an awkward smile, you pull yourself away from the counter and turn to leave, heading back to your car.

“Time to go.”

a/n : so ima be honest, i didn’t fully watch every episode of obx, so idk how completely accurate the places are and the availability of pogues being able to just enter these establishments, so im changing it up to just being, whoever’s got the money can come in, even though im sure a lot of country clubs and such are invitations only.

anyhoo hoped you all enjoyed! i’m actually tryna figure out how to get more involvement with Rafe and how to get him introduced- like should he walk up to her or dm her orrr ya. any suggestions would be lovely!! <3

spoiler : i have a plan to invite one of them on stream or one to practice off camera ;)

AH SHIT I POSTED WITHOUT THE TAGS CAN PPL SEE THIS PLS

taglist : @haruvalentine4321 @lilithblackkk @sleepiibunniiii @kiiyomei @mariamadison6-blog @livinobx @doesnt-care

unedited nor proofread.

[vivilunacornio]

Algorithm please, I don't want to know what anti-caitvi, arcane critical and incels are commenting on their shitty posts. I want cute fanarts, I want edits and gifs of caitvi loving each other, I want reviews made by people who at least watched the series. Stop recommending me things I DON'T WANT to see

[spiderman2-99]

Let me assign you an affection language.

A Knife Called Grief You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.

[yoinked from iobartach]

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 1

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc (MC POV/Sylus-centric POV)

Warnings: Lots of hurt/tiny bit of comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 3517

Written: 3rd January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I find Sylus easier to write, but all LADs are present. Don't ask me if I'm working through some stuff... I can't say I'm not. This is Pre-Cat Curse. I'll try to do the more comfort, actual communication part sometime soon.

Now Playing: The Foundations of Decay, by My Chemical Romance

Masterlist AO3

Next ->

When you close your eyes it's all you can see. The metal bar through your shoulder. The debris crushing your arm.

You can't feel it anymore.

But you can see it.

You hate Mysts. You hate EVER. You hate that you fucked up and let your guard down. Falling for a trap you're not even sure was for you, or just some fucked up experiment they'd been carrying out with their new toys.

You hate that you woke up changed, you hate that when you'd seen hospital walls you'd expected to see Caleb there like he was throughout your teen years. Or Zayne, clipboard in hand, ready to lecture you on being more careful, on taking care of yourself.

You hate that Jenna sent you home, for the foreseeable future, to recover. To do your stupid physical therapy. To sit at home and stare at yourself in the mirror. Aches and pains and phantoms lurking over your limbs, your shoulder.

You hate having to lock Mephisto out, drawing your curtains. You hate pretending you're not in, whenever Xavier comes knocking. You hate switching off your phone so Rafayel can't contact you.

You hate being this weak, useless creature.

You hate the core in your chest.

You hate what made you like this.

You hate that your instinct is to run away and hide.

A wounded cat in an alleyway, lying down in a corner, hoping the heat of your fur doesn't fade.

Hoping you don't freeze to death where no one thinks to look for you.

You hate that even when you wish someone would find you, only one person ever made sure to look, and he's gone.

You feel like you did when you watched your home disappear into flames, you feel that horrible acrid disgust in your stomach. The feeling that if you could kill what made you feel like this, you'd be alright again. You'd be able to breathe again.

The feeling that dropped you into The Nest with no concern for yourself, just a goal in mind.

The feeling that put you into Sylus' lap, gun in hand, snarling.

You feel like you did when you were told by Dr Noah that there was no cure for what lurked in your heart, that it could kill you, that no one could tell you when.

The feeling that had you abandoning any vision of a future.

The feeling that sat you in front of Caleb, wounds bleeding over his hands, because then you felt something else.

You don't have the name for them, they have been constant companions throughout your life, but you don't even know their names. You're so very tired of them, though. Wishing that they would leave you be, to let something lighter and warmer settle where they once sat.

Choosing your family, however, is often difficult.

The room is dark around you, every curtain drawn, all the lights turned off. Huddling in the corner of your bedroom, blanket wrapped firmly over your body so you can't see. Can't look and see every mottled bruise, every uneven harsh scar, every bloody bandage that you can't bear to change.

The place your arm used to be.

If you look away, if you don't stare at it, if you focus really hard, you can feel it.

You can pretend…

Even if the pain bites at your shoulder.

Even when the medication you can't make yourself take without throwing up, stares at you across the room. Where you'd thrown it in your trembling hand. Limbs so weak, walking aches every step.

You'd fallen to the floor, curled up and stayed.

You think you should be crying, but you can't seem to feel anything other than those old feelings and the pain. Like they're keeping you tethered to this reality. Chains around you, digging into your throat, tearing at soft skin.

Part of you is aware you have to keep moving, if you don't take care of yourself… you'll see Caleb sooner than you should. That he'd be sad that you stopped trying. That moving forwards is important. That there's still good you can do, meaning to be found.

It's the last logical strain of your mind that reminds you people will eventually find you, if you fade to nothing here. That they'll be hurt.

Even worse if it's Tara… Zayne… Xavier… Rafayel… Sylus…

It's only a small voice, easily ignored, in favour of fighting against the chains around your neck. Trying to keep you here, in a world you don't want to be in. In a reality that keeps ripping at you.

So you shrink in on yourself, flinching when you try to tighten a hand you've lost around the soft wool of the blanket, and curl inwards.

It has to get better. Quieter.

It has to.

—-----

Sylus stands outside the apartment door, staring at it. His knocks have gone ignored, his messages unread. Mephisto hasn't been able to even spot a hair on your head. He's not used to not knowing where you are, to not being able to keep track of you. Even if you don't respond, he at least knows if you're safe.

You've made no indication that you don't want him around, ever since that moment you'd rushed across a crossing to demand he never disappear on you, you'd not pushed him away.

He can't think of anything he's done that will have changed that. At least, he's almost sure he hasn't… The idea that he has sinks into his gut, twisting and biting like an agitated snake.

If he's to be devoured by any snake, it needs to be you and your EVOL link.

He's staring at the handle, wondering whether to snap the thing, or break into your security system. There's other hunters in the apartment block, the longer he stands out here the bigger the risk.

Of course, if he's caught breaking in… that would be another thing.

Perhaps if your balcony is unlocked, he can use his EVOL to get to you that way.

Why did he never register himself into your security system before now?

"Oi."

He's surprised that someone could sneak up on him, he's less surprised when he sees the wanted Lemurian standing behind him. Turning, the bright eyed fish is staring, "You here for any particular reason, or are you staring at doors for fun?"

Sylus can read the wariness in his eyes, he knows of your companions, he's got a good database of information about them, this one is the one with the most amount of secrets. Even parts he can't dig up. There's a small flicker of recognition in the fish's eyes as he looks at him, an acknowledgment that means Sylus has been figured out.

Though he doesn't feel a threat from it. There's recognition and then there's being made. Whatever the fish wants, it's nothing to do with him. He wonders if you've talked about him at all.

He wants to test it. "Skye." Hand extended, "I'm looking for the little kitten who lives here."

There's another flicker, and this one he doesn't understand, but it softens the glare a little bit, "Rafayel. So you're that friend of Cuties. I'm here looking for them too." This time his glare turns into a frown, disgruntled, agitated.

There's a lot Sylus can read. The fish, Rafayel, is struggling to balance all the feelings he's drowning with.

"So, have they responded to you at all?"

"No."

The frown on Rafayel's face is familiar, Sylus has seen it in his mirror, after staring at all the unread messages, after finding Mephisto without information yet again.

It's been days, and he knows he can't give you space anymore. While he respects your boundaries, he knows there's always a very real risk you could disappear. It might not always be a conscious choice you make. He doesn't want you dying in an alley alone.

If you're going to die, you're going to die with him, in his arms, with company.

He imagines those around you, feel much the same.

"Me too." This time he does hear the approach. Two sets of footsteps. When he turns, he picks out your hunter partner, and your doctor. The two look frazzled. Like they've run here.

The doctor wipes his forehead, as he looks over at Sylus and Rafayel, he doesn't have the same reaction to him that Rafayel did, but his sharp features are not welcoming. The hunter on the other hand, stops, hand flashing in light, and Sylus gets a jolt of 'danger', before it fades.

Bright blue eyes widen a little bit, and then the hand relaxes, looking at the little crow phone charm dangling from Sylus' phone that sits in his hand. Quiet. Lonely.

"Why are you here?" The edge doesn't leave the hunters voice, but the words are aimed specifically at Sylus.

He lets himself laugh, a huff of air, rather than any real humour, "Now, now Crown Prince. I'm not the enemy. I'm… a friend."

He watches the hand tense, light flickering again, blue sharpening into ice. Ah, Philos. Always did make the most easily tormented creatures.

"Crown Prince?" The doctor turns his head to the hunter, who huffs, turning his head away.

"We have more important things to think about now, don't we?" Sylus offers, somewhat a truce. If he can get to his kitten, he doesn't really care if he has to tolerate the prince. Or the fish… or the doctor with the pretty forest eyes.

There's bigger problems. The door.

The hunter wavers, looking at the door, protective, ready to fight if he has to. Sylus thinks he resembles a knight, more than a prince. Perhaps they all are in some way. Rushing to the door of their reckless little hunter.

"Are you-"

"Friends." Sylus interrupts the doctor, "Skye."

"Rafayel."

The prince stays quiet, introductions clearly done in the past.

The doctor nods, "Zayne, I've heard of you all. Very well." He indicates the files he's holding, "We have returned from the Association. They were injured in the line of duty, they were sent to a specialist, and have since returned and been taken off active duty until they have fully recovered."

Injured.

Taken off active duty.

Sylus tries to take the information in, but he gets distracted by the tense line of the doctor's jaw.

"You're angry."

The doctor blinks, turning his head away a little, "I don't know what you mean."

Rafayel peeks over, head tilted, "I'd be angry too, if as their doctor, cutie didn't come to me."

Ah, he watches Zayne glare at the fish, before he straightens himself out, so that's it. The doctor feels unwanted.

Helpless.

Sylus is familiar with the feeling, even if he hates it. He has to defeat it. He has to make sure this does not happen again.

"Well, best go greet kitten then."

He hears someone mutter, "Kitten?" behind him, but he's buoyed by the information that his kitten isn't just running away from him needlessly. You need help, you need support. You're hurt.

So he reaches over to the security lock on your door, and with his EVOL, crushes it inside out. Pushing the door open.

"Well shit." The fish speaks, "You really are him, huh?"

"The one and only, fish." Sylus shoots back, but doesn't stop. Pushing through the door and entering the apartment.

He makes a note to fix your door as soon as this is over.

It's no surprise Mephisto can't see you, the place is dark. His eyes flicker around the room, he hears the doctor knock into something, and the prince uses his EVOL to give them a floating star to illuminate.

Sylus feels like he should be making notes, these people are the closest people to his kitten, other than the other hunters you're closest to. Every bit of information he has about you, builds that puzzle up, but he notices blood on the floor.

Bandages torn and ripped.

Things knocked off sides, scattered to the floor.

"Cutie?" The fishes voice rises in concern, moving ahead of them, to walk over to the bedroom.

There's a twitch to Sylus' fingers that is unfamiliar. Fear making his EVOL flicker and flare, ready. He thinks it's close to fury.

Whoever did this, he'll find, and he'll make sure they can never do it again.

When they enter the bedroom, you're there. Curled on your side, blanket soaked through with sweat and blood. Eyes flickering around you weakly. Zayne stops walking, picking up a prosthetic from where it's been thrown across the room. Hands shaking as he turns it, then turns his gaze back to you.

Sylus is hard to throw off, he's not used to seeing you hurting. You have often hidden your wounds from him, he's always had to follow you, or chase you down to be there when you need a hand. You push him away if he gives you the choice, when it comes to support. You fiercely lick your own wounds, and pretend you're fine.

He remembers the snarl in your throat when you pressed a gun to his head, demanding absolution and justice for the death of those you cared about.

Despite his aching heart for the way you hissed 'Monster' at him, your fire was always delicious to taste. Even if it scorched his mouth.

You were never this. This small, shivering kitten, huddling further away from him when he steps forwards. A hurt, broken mewl out of your mouth.

The light flicks on, and you cry out, covering yourself fully with the blanket. Struggling in the process.

It gives him a chance to really take everything in, and he wishes the light had stayed off.

A bloody handprint is on the floor, before it drags away, like a claw. There are old bandages, caked in blood and dried up, around you. Medication packets thrown across the room. Your blanket is dirty and the smell indicates you haven't moved, or showered, or done anything but ache and bleed.

He wants to approach you, but the shivering… he looks at the doctor, "Do something." His voice isn't as hard as he wants it to be, it's fragile and… weak, and he doesn't want it to be weak. He needs to be strong, he has to be strong. You need him to be strong.

Zayne doesn't need urging, he approaches you carefully, a hand settles gently on your blanketed form. You jerk away, a dry sob ripping its way out of your misused voice.

"Darling. Come on, let me see."

Rafayel and Xavier hover on the edges. Sylus thinks he might look like them. Unsure, worried, trembling. Fear in their gut.

So this is what love can do, when it hurts.

You always bring new things into his life, he just wishes it was not at your expense.

At your pain.

Sylus grabs the prince's wrist, "Come."

Xavier tenses, but nods stiffly, following him. Rafayel looks at you, as Zayne coaxes you from the blanket to check on you, and though his feet struggle to move, he follows as well.

When he has led them into another room, he begins to pick things up off the floor. "Help me." He doesn't offer anything else, this is too much even for him. He doesn't want to open his feelings up to them, no matter how important they are to you. He needs to do something, though, and until he can get information out of you, he can't deal with who hurt you.

He can't do what he wants to do. Bleed, and rip, and tear, and destroy.

He can't burn whatever touched you.

Sylus is relieved when they follow him, the hunter knows where things are in your home. The fish busies himself with looking through your fridge for anything that past its best by date. He doesn't find anything, so orders from his phone.

They have to eat, he'd muttered to himself.

Sylus has never heard a siren's voice break before.

He wonders if you sound as beautiful when you cry, and let him hear.

The cleaning is methodical, though the scent of your blood doesn't ease away. He has to open a window, to air the place out, before it stops suffocating him. He's irritated by the hunger it incites in his stomach. Like he wants to bury his face into the bloody bandages and taste them.

A feeling of greed and hunger he doesn't seem able to fully get rid of. No matter how much he wants to need you in every other way than this.

When food arrives, Rafayel takes it into the kitchen, easing himself into cooking basic fish soup. The smell replaces the scent of blood, and Sylus can breathe easier.

While the fish and the prince are busy, and the worst of the mess is cleaned. Including broken shards of glass, and smashed photo frames. Sylus walks closer to the bedroom. He wants to just clean up the mess in there, so you can exist, and not see blood everywhere. Instead, he finds you, blanket pulled down, while the doctor wipes blood from around your shoulder.

His feet pause, and he meets your mismatched eyes. Scars ripping through the side of your face.

"Kitten." He exhales, and watches as you flinch, trying to bury yourself back in the blanket. The doctor takes your face in his hands, breathes with you, and soothes the hackles rising.

"It's alright."

"Don't look." You croak out, pleading at Sylus, both of them. Begging them not to see you.

He sighs, and he approaches, kneeling in front of you, hand reaching out to take your one. Soothing the flinch, the hair raising, with a steady pressure of his thumb against your skin. "Now kitten, I always want to look at you. You know that."

Your eyes glisten with tears, before you look back at Zayne, sniffling through the pain, "Hurts."

The doctor nods, "I'll need to resuture some of your wounds, I brought my tools with me, but you will need to go back into the hospital for checkups." When you try to pull away, both he and Zayne keep a handle on you. So you can't escape, so you can't fall back. So you can't stumble.

"You also need to start your therapy, if you avoid it, you will struggle even more."

"No." You snap, biting at the bit. Sylus thinks if you had a dragon's teeth, you'd sharpen them against their flesh. "I don't want it, I don't need it."

"You do need it." The doctor's brow furrows, frustration coming through his face. At himself? At you? At this situation? Sylus' couldn't tell, maybe all of it. "You need to take care of yourself."

They're both surprised when you hiccup, when your sob lets itself out. When you fall forwards. He watches your shoulder flinch, and your hand pulls out of his to cover your face, and you shatter.

Sobbings, breaking, choking on air.

He isn't sure what he's supposed to do, but he doesn't get much time to think. You're pulled forward by the doctor, into both of their arms, due to how close they are. His arm hooks around you, balancing you, so they both can hold you. The smell of blood tickles his nose again, but this time, he buries his nose in your neck. You smell like they've pulled you back from decaying, and it hurts the heart he gave to you so many years ago.

Eventually you settle, breathing again for them, fingers trembling where your hand is trapped between their bodies.

When you pull away, tears have streaked down your face, smearing dirt across your cheeks. Zayne reaches his hand out to wipe away some of it, but he lets out a soft sigh, "We need to get you cleaned up so I can take care of you."

Your eyes downcast, staring at the floor. You look ashamed, and it bites at Sylus' heels, so he presses a kiss against your cheek. Which makes the look morph to shock. "We can get the fish if that helps, I'm sure he'll make sure you don't drown."

The nod is weak, tired and worn, even though he watches your eyes flicker to your wounds, to your shoulder, back to him. Like you're realising it means someone else seeing you.

He wishes you'd see yourself the way he sees you. The way he can tell the doctor sees you. The way he's sure the prince and the fish see you.

It's not enough to tell you, though, you have to learn it yourself. So he stands, stopping momentarily when your hand tightens against his shirt, eyes widening. He watches the scar tissue tug, he watches the hand tremble where its grasping him. So he puts his over it, "I'm not leaving, kitten. When you're clean, when you're stitched back up, we'll talk, and eat. Alright?"

Sylus feels the heat settle around his heart, like your hand is holding it, when you nod. A tiny bit of fire returning to you.

To the tenacious light of your eyes.

[steal-this-idea]

There are entire stores without proper cashiers? (because that's what this looks like to me)

My store lost half its front-end employees to quits due to sharply reduced hours and cut staffing levels in half since installing self-checkout lanes

They swore up&down they wouldn't be reducing staffing levels to the customers and to us employees and didn't even wait a full week before forswearing that promise and cutting staffing levels practically in half.

I can't prove it obviously but I could swear they spent the year before the self-checkout lanes were installed deliberately underpreparing new employees for their job to encourage customers to use the self-checkouts so they could quietly lay off more of our payroll (no one was laid off "officially" but I'm not sure what else you would call reducing someone's average weekly hours from 24-30 down to 12-16...it certainly did the trick)

Until UBIs are a thing and we don't have to do this shit anymore unless we choose to, fuck every customer who uses a self-checkout or a kiosk in lieu of an actual human being paid to be there