#I ended up nearly crying twice today

[semisasseater]

Intro (end of the world.)

Se-mi x fem! reader

Summary: you never wanted to get into a heated argument with your girlfriend se-mi, not even in these death games that were slowly making you and se-mi drift away from each other. not knowing it was lights out but finding out you ran to go find se-mi not knowing that’s the reason you loose your life.

Tw: Gore, stabbing, really into detail on how y/n gets killed, just full angst, crying, wuh luh wuh, grief, no happy ending. let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: if you thought this was bad imagine what i would’ve wrote if they both died. felt a little uh.. heh evil (cause of that damn poll) and sad today.. but anyways this was very not sigma to write also i’m sorry i didn’t post yesterday </3 forgive me.

Not proofread!

Part 2

Word count: 841

The tension had been building between you and Se-mi for days. Every game, she threw herself into the fire without thinking twice, taking reckless risks that made your heart nearly explode with fear. You had warned her, begged her to be more careful and pick X. But she never listened.

And tonight, after barely scraping by in the last round, it all came boiling over.

“I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY! YOU KEPT WANTING TO PLAY AND ALMOST GETTING YOURSELF FUCKING KILLED!” you shouted, frustration and fear twisting your voice.

Se-mi’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Whatever,” she scoffed, rubbing her temples. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as you watched her walk off. Your chest was still heaving with anger, but deep down, you knew it wasn’t just anger—it was fear. Fear of losing her.

You sat against the cold wall, pressing your forehead against your knees, mumbling curses under your breath. The frustration made your limbs feel heavy, exhaustion from the past games catching up to you.

Then—

BOOM.

The lights went out.

At first, it was just silence. But then—screams. Bloodcurdling, gut-wrenching screams. The sound of bodies hitting the floor.

Your breath hitched as you looked around. The room had turned into chaos. The weak were being slaughtered, and the strong were becoming animals.

Your mind screamed one thing—Se-mi.

You scrambled to your feet, heart hammering, pushing past the bodies and the flashing silhouettes of people fighting in the darkness. You had to find her. You had to—

A hand yanked your hair back violently.

A pained gasp left your lips as you were thrown against the wall, your skull bouncing off the hard surface. Vision swimming, you looked up—shit. nam gyu.

The gleam of a sharp, broken glass shard caught your eye before it plunged into your shoulder.

A piercing scream ripped from your throat as white-hot pain seared through your body. You struggled, kicking at him, clawing at anything to get away, but he was relentless. With a sickening grin, he pulled the shard out, only to drive it into your stomach.

Your screams turned into choked sobs, pain overtaking every nerve in your body. You could feel the glass slowly dragging up toward your chest, your body convulsing in agony.

you wheezed, trying to push him off.

But he didn’t stop.

The next stab was to your hand.

A broken, shattered cry left your lips as your body weakened, your limbs trembling, blood pooling beneath you. Your vision blurred, dark edges creeping in. The pain was unbearable. Your body slumped against the cold floor, breaths shallow, mind slipping away.

You heard more screams. More fighting. But it was all fading.

Until—

“Y/N!”

A familiar voice. A desperate, trembling voice.

Se-mi.

Your eyelids felt like lead as you barely managed to turn your head. Se-mi was there, her face streaked with tears, hands shaking as she grabbed your weak, bloodied body.

“Nonono, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have left you alone!” she sobbed, pressing your head against her chest. Her warmth felt comforting, even as your body turned cold.

You let out a weak, trembling breath. “It’s okay Se-mi… it’s not your fault… it’s mine… I was being an asshole…”

She shook her head violently. “No. No don’t say that You’re gonna be okay You have to be okay”

Your body felt lighter. The pain was dulling, everything slipping away.

You looked at her, eyes heavy with exhaustion and something deeper—love. “Se-mi… I’ll always love you…”

“No—” her voice cracked. “No, no, no, don’t say that.. You can’t leave me. You can’t!”

Tears dripped onto your face as she shook you, desperately trying to keep you here. But you were already floating away.

“Get out of here… for me… okay?”

And then—darkness.

“NO! Y/N!”

Her scream echoed through the room, raw and heart-wrenching. She clutched your body, sobbing uncontrollably, rocking you in her arms.

But you were gone.

The guards arrived, their cold, emotionless hands pulling Se-mi away as she kicked and screamed, refusing to let go.

“DON’T TAKE HER! DON’T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!”

But they did. They placed your lifeless body into a black and pink coffin, sealing it shut.

Se-mi collapsed to the floor, her cries silent now, just broken breaths of someone who had lost everything.

She was still alive.

But for Se-mi, she was dead, what was the point of living if your reason to live is gone?

@semisasseater

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

I've had a bit of brainrot today and have to share so I can get it out of my head (maybe) so feel free to ignore lol I've been thinking of 141 having a civilian spouse (separately, just in case there was confusion) that only ever refers to them by their call sign/rank during an emergency situation. Using it just immediately sets off sirens and they see red. - 🐍

Yesss. Got a bit carried away with this one, lol. Only did 141 specifically, lmk if you'd like to see anyone else! Also tried my best to make this GN!😊

141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation

Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, unwanted advances/touching, stalking, swearing, injury, crying--- I promise it has a good ending😅

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Golly, aren't you a fine looking thing." You heard a voice say behind you, as you were standing at the bar getting you and Simon another drink. Simon had just gone to the bathroom, so you knew you were on your own for this.

You turned around and were met with a man double your size, a sickening smile making its way on his face.

"Oh, thank you." You mustered a small smile before turning back to the bar, praying the man would take the hint and leave you alone.

"No, I mean it. I could take that little ass of yours home right now." The man came closer, and you could just start to feel his breath on your neck, making you cringe.

"I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry." You tried softly. You were desperate at this point, your eyes searching for Simon.

"I don't see him anywhere." The man smiled, his teeth were yellow, and his breath reeked of cheap booze.

"He just went to the restroom." You mumbled.

You felt a hand grope your ass slightly, squeezing at the flesh there. "Mmhmm, if I were your boyfriend, I'd never leave you unattended like this."

You cried out, moving to swat the guys hand away, to no avail. Nobody around you seemed to notice your predicament, and you were starting to grow scared.

The man pushed you up against the counter, his hand now gripping your waist. "Be a good little pet and come with me, okay?"

You struggled against his hold and screamed out, "Ghost!"

Simon, who had just exited the restroom, heard the wail and immediately started to run to you. What he saw had him seeing red.

He forced himself between you and the man and grabbed his hand roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching them."

The man looked as if he was about to piss himself, as Simon was nearly a half foot taller and twice as bulky. "Sorry, man, they acted like they wanted it."

Simon seethed and twisted the man's wrist with such force that you swore you heard bones cracking. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Before I decide to do something that'll end with me in jail."

The man let out a small whimper, grabbed his now bruised hand and ran for the door.

Simon watched as he fled, then turned his attention to you, his eyes softening. "Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you threw yourself into Simon's chest. "Thank you, Si."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Why won't we go home, I'll draw you a bath." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks, carefully pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You nodded your head slowly and let Simon lead you out of the bar, not expecting him to crouch down on the ground once you made it outside. "Si?"

"Cmon, get on my back. Long way to the car." He gestured to his back and helped you on it, holding your legs tightly as he walked you to his car. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen again to his person.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were walking around your local department store one afternoon with Kyle, looking to find him some new dress shirts. The two of you had a friends wedding to attend that weekend, and Kyle didn't have many outfits to pick from.

"What about this one?" You picked out a light blue stripped dress shirt, holding it up for Kyle to see.

"I'll look like a grandpa with that one, babe." He joked, waiving away the shirt.

"You'd be a hot grandpa." You countered, putting the shirt back.

"Oh hush. I gotta run to the restroom, I'll be right back." He chuckled as he gave your arm a squeeze. You watched him walk away with a small smile before returning to the racks in front of you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a gentleman who'd been following you and Kyle around the store for some time now, and now that Kyle was gone, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

You were just rounding the next row of racks when the man came up behind you and started to pull on your purse. You cried out, trying to pull back, but the man was too strong. He yanked with one mighty tug, ripping the purse from your arm, and shoved you backward, sending you toppling into the racks behind you.

"GAZ!" You screamed, as the man stared at you, frozen, before turning the other way and running.

Kyle was walking toward you when he heard you scream, and his blood ran cold. He immediately sprinted in your direction, running right into the man with your purse. The man fell backward, and Kyle looked down to see him clutching your purse.

He put his foot on the man's stomach and pushed down hard. "Give me the fucking purse, asshole."

The man refused and tightened his grip on your bag. Kyle saw red and promptly punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He grabbed your purse as a few workers finally came to check on the commotion.

Kyle looked to see you clutching your head in pain. He ran over to you, sliding to a crouch position once he got to you. "Baby! Are you okay?"

Your bottom lip trembled as a strangled cry escaped your throat, and Kyle grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. He had to talk himself down from going and giving the man another few punches.

He tucked his arm underneath your legs and lifted you up bridal style. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've got you. Let's go home. Yeah?"

Kyle spent the rest of the night watching over you and icing the bruise that formed on your head. He made a silent vow that day, that he'd beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who dared touch his baby again.

John Price-

BANG!

You looked up from your computer in your home office at the sound of the loud noise. It was late at night, and John was asleep, so you were concerned as to what caused the sound. You grabbed the pocket knife out of your drawer and made your way quietly to investigate.

Peeking your head around the doorway, you saw a large man making his way through your shared home with your husband. It appeared he'd somehow broken in through the front door.

You let out a small whimper, the confidence you had before now fading. John was fast asleep upstairs, and you had no way to get to him without revealing yourself.

You watched silently as the man started to rummage in your drawers, trying to find anything valuable he could take.

He started to draw closer to where you were, and as you slowly crept backward, the floorboards creaked underneath you.

The man was immediately notified of your presence and caught a glimpse of you as you tried to hide around the corner.

"Hey! You!" He shouted, immediately running toward you.

You sprinted in the other direction, narrowly missing his outstretched hand. You ran into the bathroom in the hallway and tried to close the door before a hand came out to stop it.

"Nowhere to run now." He said, a terrifying smile lining his face.

"PRICE!" You screeched, your heart beating rapidly.

John's eyes flew open at the sound of your terrified cry. With adrenaline coarsing through his veins, he flung himself out of bed and grabbed his handgun from his bedside table. He slowly crept down the stairs and took in his surroundings.

He saw you right away, crouched in terror before a man, who had you at gunpoint. John swiftly made his way behind the man before hitting him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

The man fell limply to the floor, and you let out a strangled sob. "John."

"Hey love, it's alright. I'm here." He approached you slowly, his hands raised up to show you he meant no harm. You held your arms out to him, and he pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you."

He pulled away for just a moment to call the cops but held a grip firm on your waist, letting you know he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to you.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Alright, babe, I'll run and grab the stuff at the bottom half of the list. You grab top?" Johnny asked, eyeing your fairly large grocery list.

"Sounds good, thanks, love." You smiled at him and tore the list in half, sending him on his way after a quick peck.

You watched as he strolled away, basket in hand, and made for the toiletry section of the store.

You were comparing toothpastes when you felt two men staring at you. You subtly turned your head in their direction, and they quickly looked anywhere but your direction.

You felt a slight sinking feeling in your belly and quickly threw one of the toothpastes in your cart. You made for the next aisle, looking around deoderant for you and Johnny, when the same two men appeared again, walking slowly down the aisle toward you.

Trying to brush off the occurrence as a coincidence, you threw what you needed in the cart and started to make your way to the shampoo aisle. Your resolve quickly crumbled when you now realized the men were following you.

The store was rather empty, so there was nobody close by for you to turn to. You sped your cart up and headed in the direction you thought Johnny might be. The men were hot on your tail, making it clear they were trying to get to you.

You felt one of their hands touch your back, and you let out a cry. "SOAP!"

Johnny was just finishing up his portion of the list when he heard your scream. His heart was beating rapidly as he dropped the basket and ran to you.

"Y/N?" He called out and was met with a horrifying sight. You were cornered in one of the aisles by two men and were crying, your hands up in a defensive motion as you crouched on the floor.

Johnny immediately approached. "Leave my partner the fuck alone."

The two men whipped their heads in his direction, rubbing their hands together. It was clear they were looking for a fight. Johnny lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his sidearm strapped to his waist. "Try it, I fucking dare you. You won't like the outcome."

The men clearly knew better than to create such a scene in a store and decided to flee.

Johnny watched as they ran and crouched down to your level. "Baby. Are you okay?"

You choked out a sob and wrapped your arms around your husband. "I was so scared, Johnny."

Johnny gritted his teeth in anger, he hated that anyone made you feel this way. It took everything in him not to go chasing after those bastards.

"I know, baby. I'm here now, though. Why don't we quickly finish up this trip and grab some takeout, yeah? I'm not really feeling up to cooking anymore." He pulled your face away gently and stroked your tears away. "I've got you, always, okay?"

You nod slowly and let him help you up. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, not letting go until you both reached the car.

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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Certain people are dealt a shittier hand in life than others, and unfortunately, you are one of those people.

Life has never been easy for you. As far back as you can remember, it's been one shitstorm after the other. Your parents are as good as dead to you, because all they ever did was make reckless choices and run away, leaving you to clean up their mess. That's how, at the young age of twenty, you've already got more debt than the average person could ever fathom.

Still, you make do. You hustle as best you can to get through one day and move on to the next. It's exhausting, and sometimes it feels like you're ready to give up, but against all odds, you persevere.

"That'll be 50 credits," the cashier says.

You let out a sigh and give her your card. Everything is so goddamn expensive these days. Even a simple grocery trip feels like a big slap in the face.

"Oh. Sorry," she blinks. "It's been declined. Do you have any other form of payment on hand?"

Shit. This one too?

You mumble an apology and dig through your wallet again. Thankfully, you happen to have enough cash to cover the cost. Just barely.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the cashier recites monotonously. She packs your groceries in a bag and hands it to you, then gestures for the next customer to step forward.

You leave the store the same as always, feeling worn-down and discouraged. You'll have to apply for a new card, but who knows when they'll send it to you. Goddammit. You're already scraping the bottom of the barrel as is. You hardly have enough emergency savings to last until then.

It's a shitty day, and unfortunately for you, it's about to get even worse.

"[Name]," a distinct, familiar voice mutters. You flinch at the sound, nearly dropping your grocery bag in the process. There's a man standing outside your apartment complex. A man that always makes your stomach crease in discomfort.

You instinctively step back. "I don't want any trouble, Johnny. Please, can I just get through?"

He ignores you and walks over, and while you stand there, stiff from fright, he peeks into your grocery bag and hums, visibly amused.

"Not exactly a lavish dinner," he chuckles. "But I guess you've got no choice but to be frugal, huh?"

"I just want to go home," you plead. "Please. Don't do this."

Alas, Johnny has never been one to give a shit about your circumstances, and today is no exception.

"I haven't been getting the money you promised me," he glares. "You've been late on your payments, and I'm really starting to lose my patience here."

You try to protest, but he wraps his hand around your throat and forcibly pins you against a wall. He isn't applying too much pressure, not yet, but the threat is there all the same.

"You owe me money, [Name]." His pupils constrict, a telltale sign that he's furious. "I'm done with your shitty excuses. If you can't make good on your promises, then you pay the price. This is the way the world works."

He holds you there, just so he can watch you whimper and cower in fear, then he eventually releases his hold on you and steps away.

"I'm giving you one more week," he says. "If you don't come up with the amount we agreed on in one week, I might seriously have to kill you. And don't even think of running away like your parents did. I'm sure as hell not gonna make the same mistake twice."

Johnny walks off with a steady, relaxed gait and his hands buried in his pockets. It's that easy for him. He can threaten an innocent woman and not think anything of it, the sick bastard.

You sniffle and resist the urge to cry. Fuck your parents. All they ever did was ruin your life. You have no idea where they're hiding right now, but for their own sake, they had better not show their faces around you ever again.

Still. There's no point in lamenting what can't be changed. Your parents are gone. It's up to you to remedy this situation and pay that disgusting loan shark back.

The question is, how?

How in the world will you pull that off? You barely make enough to eat two meals a day and cover your rent, let alone the steep cost of your debts.

It just seems like a lost cause. You've been working yourself to the bone, but you still can't even make a dent in what your parents owe. It's all too much to bear. It makes you want to forfeit your life entirely. At least then, you might finally be able to rest in peace.

Weighed down by the hopelessness of your situation, you trudge into your crappy studio apartment, chuck the groceries in the fridge, and plop down on the couch, defeated.

I guess it's time to look for another job. Something I can squeeze into my schedule. I can probably survive without sleeping a few days in a row, right?

You chuckle brokenly and scroll through your phone, looking for anything you might have a shot at. Finding a good job in this city is yet another hopeless dream for someone like you, who didn't go to college and doesn't have any other notable qualifications. All of your current jobs may as well be paying you dirt, which is why you can never meet Johnny's ridiculous demands.

You're just about to give up and go make yourself a rather pathetic dinner, when suddenly, something catches your eye.

[𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛]: 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱. 𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀-𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝘀.

Vampires. Not long ago, a law was passed, granting vampires access to the city. More and more of them seem to be moving here, the central hub of the country. Of course, most people felt uncomfortable with this change, but it seems to be a necessary step in fighting back against years of discrimination. Humans naturally fear vampires, and the government is doing everything it can to integrate them into society.

Since drinking blood by force is considered a crime, this program is most likely a way for vampires to obtain their blood safely and without any consequence, just so long as people are willing to sign up for it.

You take a moment to assess your situation. You have almost no money to your name, and there's a greedy loan shark that's just itching to torture you if you fail to pay him back in time. If you don't get some money, and fast, you're probably headed for the afterlife.

That being said, you've never encountered a vampire before. You've heard all sorts of horror stories about them. That they're physically stronger than humans, have more acute senses, and could easily bludgeon you to death if they wanted to.

But even if that's actually true, how is it any different than what Johnny will do to you if you don't pay him back?

You press your lips together. Perhaps there's no harm in trying at least once and seeing how it'll go. It's not like you're guaranteed to get accepted for the program anyways. And besides, this is being implemented by the government, so surely, they won't allow any humans to come to harm in the process.

Above all else, you are incredibly desperate, with very little to lose.

So, you decide to take a gamble.

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 [𝗫]?

...

Your luck might finally be changing for the better, or maybe they're just desperate for applicants, but either way, you got the job.

It was a bit tedious. The screening process was rather lengthy, and they made you do quite a few medical tests to ensure you didn't have any infectious diseases or anything like that. You suppose having a clean bill of health is the one thing required for this position, considering you'll be giving your blood to someone else. Thankfully, even though your life is shit, you've always been rather sturdy, which is the only reason you've lasted this long.

You're currently walking through a glossy white corridor. The building you're in is polished and sleek, some kind of medical company that's been researching vampires for quite a long time. They call themselves Plasma Inc., which is a bit tacky, but you're certainly in no position to judge.

The doctor escorting you holds a clipboard against his chest, and glances over at you every so often.

"We're almost there," he says. After a brief pause, he adds, "There's no need to be nervous."

Honestly, you're a little nervous, but only because you've never done this before. Giving your blood to a vampire... it all sounds so farfetched. You really didn't think this was something you'd ever be doing.

But beggars can't afford to be choosers.

"For the client's privacy and peace of mind, there aren't any cameras inside the room. We will not be able to see or hear anything that happens in there. You signed the confidentiality clause, so please keep in mind that you will be liable for any private information that you happen to disclose."

You knew as much going into this. There's no point in psyching yourself out. Everything's going to be fine. This is all perfectly safe.

...it should be, at least.

"Whenever you're ready," the doctor says. He's stopped in front of a door, and you instinctively gulp as you imagine what—or rather, who—is on the other side.

Okay, then. No reason to back out now. You chose this. It's a desperate measure, and sure, you'll lose a bit of blood in the process, but if it helps you pay off your debt and get back on your feet, then it's easily worth it.

"I'm ready," you say.

The doctor nods briefly, offers you an encouraging smile, then opens the door.

It closes behind you right away, and your eyes instinctively search the room until they land on a motionless, seated figure.

It's a man. Well, a vampire, but still a man. Deep down, you'd been hoping that it might be a woman. A man seems somewhat more intimidating, although you suppose all vampires are stronger than humans, so it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

He's beautiful, though. Vampires are scarce in numbers, and they don't usually go out during the day, so it's unlikely that you would have ever passed by one. But you've only ever heard people speak of them in frightening terms. Never in a million years did you imagine they'd be so utterly gorgeous. Or perhaps this particular vampire is simply an exception.

You don't quite realize how much time you've spent fawning over his appearance until he suddenly stands up.

Instinctively, you flinch, and it's clear that it doesn't go unnoticed.

He narrows his eyes. "If you're not comfortable doing this, you're welcome to leave. I was told that the humans who signed up for this program were all completely willing. I have no intention of taking your blood without your full cooperation."

"Oh. S-Sorry," you stammer. "I'm not uncomfortable. I guess I'm just a little bit starstruck. It's my first time meeting a vampire."

"There's no need to gawk at me. I'm not some animal trapped inside a cage."

He has a rather harsh tongue, but again, you're in no position to judge. Perhaps your reaction offended him, unintentional as it may have been.

"Sorry," you say again, then you offer him a weak smile. "Um... I'm [Name]. I'm not really sure what the etiquette for this sort of thing is, but it's nice to meet you."

It takes him a while to respond. He studies you quietly with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and the silence is awkward, to say the least.

"I'm Xavier," he finally replies. He frowns a bit. "But I didn't come here to chat. If you're ready, I'll like to move on with this as soon as possible."

Right. He's here for the same reason you are. It's not an opportunity for the two of you to exchange pleasantries.

You're here to sell your blood, and he's here to drink it.

"Okay," you swallow. Now that it's come down to it, you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. But this is fine. This is nothing. Compared to all the shit you've already been through, this may as well be a walk in the park.

You walk over to him, taking slow, careful steps, then you sit down in one of the chairs. He does the same, staring at you without blinking the whole time. You watch as he shuffles a bit closer, and he uses his fingers to pull down the collar of your shirt slightly. You shiver at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours. God, his hands are cold.

Xavier stares right into your eyes. "This is your last chance to back out. If you tell me to stop now, I will, but otherwise, I'll take it that you've agreed to move on."

"I'm fine," you reassure. Despite the fact that your stomach is a bundle of nerves right now, you're determined to press on. You need this. There's simply no other option.

You'll do whatever it takes to live on, even if it means selling the very essence that grants you life in the first place.

"Okay," Xavier says, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His jaw unhinges, and the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut is the pearly-white color of his bright, glistening fangs.

He bites into your neck.  

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[mentality-project]

Carry Me Home - Part 2

Morpheus x fem!reader

While being tucked into bed by the King of the Nightmare Realm was lovely, waking up with a hangover from Hell was not.

A pitiful groan works its way up your throat as you roll over to the cool side of your bed, trying to find relief for your overheated skin. You kick off the blanket as you snuggle into the cold, trying to will your body back to sleep as you chase after the last scene of your dream.

After a few more moments of tossing and turning, you admit defeat and blink open weary eyes. Once the waking world comes into focus, the sight of painkillers and a tall glass of water on your beside table greet you.

It could only be Morpheus’ doing. You weren’t capable of such forethought last night. With a grimace on your face, you drag yourself upright enough to pop the pills in your mouth and chase them down with a gulp of water. Its at the temperature of ice water despite the lack of condensation and you could cry from the relief it brings your parched throat.

“Fuckkk…I love you, Morph.” you mumble against the rim of your glass as you lean back against the headboard.

“He loves it when you say that.”

The speed at which you turn your head towards the raven perched at the end of your bed nearly gives you whiplash.

“How the fuck did you get in?”

“The bathroom window was open.”

“Oh.”

You and Matthew sit in comfortable silence as you continue to sip your glass of heavenly water.

“What did you mean by that?”

“What?”

You shoot Matthew a death stare over the rim of your glass.

“Oh, the boss loves it every time you say you love him. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

You nearly snort water out of your nose. “Dream? Warm and fuzzy? Seriously?”

“I am being serious!” Matthew’s feathers puff up with indignation, "Every time you say those words, Dream becomes a much more lenient boss. He takes whatever opportunity he can get to be close to you." "That's..." you clear you throat, wishing there was some water left in your glass, "That's a lot of information before breakfast."

"Sorry, kid. Rough night?"

"Fun night, rough hangover." you manage a grin as you set the empty glass back down, "Wanna stick around for a cuppa tea, Matthew?"

"I'd love to."

"Cool. Be a dear and boil the kettle for me, would you? There should be enough water in it. I'm gonna have a quick shower first, feel free to help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Matthew swoops out the door as you drag yourself off to the bathroom.

--- You hear the sound of the kettle switch flicking off and the rumble of boiling water as you round the corner, drying your hair off with the towel draped around your shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Matthew asks from his spot on the kitchen counter.

"Definitely," you sigh as you hang the damp towel over the back of one of the chairs, "What kind of tea do you fancy today, Matthew?"

"Earl Grey, please." "Milk, sugar?"

"Yes to both." You take two mugs out of the cupboard, pausing as you notice the small parcel by the kettle. It has your name on it.

"What's this?" you ask as you tug at the string to unwrap it.

"Hangover cure from the Boss."

"Dream was here?" you blink over your shoulder at Matthew.

"Nah, he had me send it over. Under strict instructions to make sure that you drink it. Not allowed to come back until you do."

No wonder Matthew agreed to stick around for breakfast. You almost snort with laughter as you unfold the wrapping, which turns out to also be a handwritten note from Dream. Upon seeing the size of the cloth teabag, you swap your mug for a tea bowl and begin to read as you pour the hot water into it.

Your Grace,

The corners of your mouth creep up into a smile. Could it be? Do you share an inside joke with the Dream Lord now?

According to the dreams of the best apothecaries in the Waking World over the last millennia, this tea contains the best herbs to help alleviate the aftermath of overindulging in alcohol. I hope it is of use to you. - Morpheus

You are practically glowing as you lift the note to your lips and press a kiss to the parchment.

"I love you." your whisper, watching in amazement as the note dissipates into sand and stardust.

You lift the bowl to your lips, taking care to blow a couple of times before taking a careful sip, eyes widening in surprise.

"Huh...not bad."

"Where's mine?" Matthew squawks in an accusatory tone.

"Sorry, sorry."

You get to work brewing Matthew his cuppa, changing your mind about the kind of mug you originally picked and deciding on a wide teacup to make drinking more convenient for him. You ratio the water and milk out so the tea is at the perfect drinking temperature before placing the drink in front of him and heading over to the toaster.

"Would you like some toast, Matthew?"

"Sure, I'll have a slice."

"What do you want on it?"

"Got any butter?"

You retrieve the tub of butter from the fridge, along with some avocado and smoked salmon for yourself - that combo with a sprinkle of black pepper has you in a chokehold lately. After you butter Matthew's toast accordingly, you rip it up into bite-sized pieces before sliding the plate towards him. Matthew murmurs his thanks before digging in with gusto. You lean your head against your palm as your elbow presses into the countertop, watching Matthew as you chew your own mouthful of toast, contemplating. Eventually, you're brave enough to break the silence.

"Why'd you tell me all that stuff?"

"Hmm?" Matthew buries his beak in his tea, the hum being the only indication that he heard you.

"About Morph, and how...how he feels about me...?" "Honestly?" Matthew stares you down and you stare back at him, "there's only so much one can take of watching the slowest slow-burn ever." You gulp down on your tea so fast you start to choke on it.

"C'mon kid, between you and me, you know you've gotta be the one to say something. The Boss has all the time in the world. He's Endless. By the time he works up the courage to make first move, you'll be dead and buried. No offence."

"None taken." you mumble around a mouthful of toast. There's not much conversation after that and you're quite content to eat the rest of your breakfast in silence. Matthew's given you a lot to think about. -- "Hey Boss, how's it going? (Y/N) drank that tea you sent her, all of it. And...Boss? Hey, you okay? Boss?"

Matthew tilts his head at the sight of Morpheus on his throne, but for all his trying, Morpheus doesn't appear to hear the loyal raven.

No, he's far too occupied with the lingering feeling of your kiss pressed into his cheek from his stardust, fingertips still on his cheekbone as if he's trying to keep the feeling there. In his other hand, the parchment materialises, your words scrawled in the smallest print as if it is a secret:

'I love you.'

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dow promised to turn sneakers into playground surfaces, then dumped them in Indonesia

Dow Chemicals plastered Singapore with ads for its sneaker recycling program, promising to turn old shoes into playground tracks. But the shoes it collected in its “recycling” bins were illegally dumped in Indonesia. This isn’t an aberration: it’s how nearly all plastic recycling has always worked.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/26/career-criminals/#fool-me-twice-three-times-four-times-a-hundred-times

Plastic recycling’s origin story starts in 1973, when Exxon’s scientists concluded that plastic recycling would never, ever be cost-effective (#ExxonKnew about this, too). Exxon sprang into action: they popularized the recycling circular arrow logo and backed “anti-littering” campaigns that blamed the rising tide of immortal, toxic garbage on peoples’ laziness.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/14/they-knew/#doing-it-again

Remember the campaign where an Italian guy dressed like a Native American shed a single tear as he contemplated plastic litter? Funded by the plastic industry, as a way of shifting blame for plastic waste from the wealthy, powerful corporations who lied about plastics recycling to the individuals who believed their lies:

https://www.chicagotribune.com/opinion/commentary/ct-perspec-indian-crying-environment-ads-pollution-1123-20171113-story.html

When I was a kid in Ontario, we had centralized, regulated, reusable bottle depots — beer and soda bottles came in standard sizes, differentiated by paper labels that could be pressure-washed off. When you were done with your bottle, you returned it for a deposit and it got washed and returned to bottlers to be refilled again and again and again.

After intense lobbying from soda companies, brewers and the plastic industry, that program was replaced with curbside “blue boxes” that promised to recycle our plastic waste. 90% of the plastics created has never been — and will never be — recycled. Today, the plastic industry plans on tripling the amount of single-use plastic in use worldwide:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/26/plastic-fatalistic/#recycled-lies

You know those ads from companies like Bluetriton (formerly “Nestle Waters”) that promise that your single-use plastic bottles are “100% recyclable…and can be used for new bottles and all sorts of new, reusable things?”

Bluetriton is a private equity-backed rollup that has absorbed most of the bottled water companies you’re familiar with, including Poland Spring, Pure Life, Splash, Ozarka, and Arrowhead. When they were sued in DC for making false claims about their “recyclable” water-bottles, their defense was that these were “non-actionable puffery.” According to Bluetriton, when it described itself as “a guardian of sustainable resources” and “a company who, at its core, cares about water,” it was being “vague and hyperbolic.”

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/26/plastic-fatalistic/#recycled-lies

With this high standard for plastic recycling, Dow’s Singapore scam shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it seems to have surprised the government of Singapore. Writing for Reuters, Joe Brock, Yuddy Cahya Budiman and Joseph Campbell describe how they caught Dow red-handed:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/global-plastic-dow-shoes/

The method is actually pretty straightforward: Reuters hid tracking devices in cavities in the soles of sneakers, dropped them in one of Dow’s collection bins, and then followed them. The shoes were passed onto Dow’s subcontractor, Yok Impex Pte Ltd, who sent them hopping from island to island throughout Indonesia, until they ended up in junk-markets.

Not all the shoes, though — one pair was simply moved from Dow’s collection bin to a donation bin at a Singaporean community center. Of the 11 pairs that Reuters tracked, not one ended up at a recycling facility. So much for Dow’s slogan: “Others see an old shoe. We see the future.”

Dow blamed all this on Yok Impex, but didn’t explain why its “recycling” program involved a company whose sole trade is exporting used clothing. Dow promised to cancel its deal with Yok Impex, but Yok Impex’s accountant told Reuters that the deal would be remain in place until the end of the contract. Yok Impex, meanwhile, shifted the blame to the low-waged women who sort through the clothing donations it takes in from across Singapore.

Indonesia bans bulk imports of used clothes, on the grounds that used clothes are unhygenic, displace the local textiles industry, and shipments contain high volumes of waste that ends up in Indonesian incinerators, landfills and rivers.

In other words, Singaporeans thought they were saving the planet by putting their shoes in Dow bins, but they were really sending those shoes on a long journey to an unlicensed dump. Dow enlisted schoolchildren in used-shoe collection drives, making upbeat videos that featured students like Zhang Youjia boasting that they “contributed 15 pairs of shoes.”

Dow does this all the time. In 2021, Dow’s “breakthrough technology to turn plastic waste into clean fuel” in Idaho was revealed to be a plain old incinerator:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/environment-plastic-oil-recycling/

Also in 2021, in India, a Dow program to “use high-tech machinery to transform the [plastic from the Ganges] into clean fuel” was revealed to have ceased operations — but was still collecting plastic and promising that it was all being turned into fuel:

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-environment-plastic-insight-idUSKBN29N024

Dow operates a nearly identical “shoe recycling” program in neighboring Malaysia, and did not return Reuters’ requests for comment as to whether the shoes collected for “recycling” in the far more populous nation were also being illegally dumped offshore.

The global business lobby loves the idea of “personal responsibility” and its evil twin, “caveat emptor.” Its pet economists worship the idea of “revealed preferences,” claiming that when we use plastic, we may claim that we don’t want to have our bodies poisoned with immortal, toxic microplastics, that we don’t want our land and waters despoiled — but we actually love it, because otherwise we’d “vote with our wallets” for something else.

The obvious advantage of telling people to vote with their wallets is that the less money you have in your wallet, the fewer votes you get. Companies like Dow have used their access to the capital markets (a fancy phrase for “rich people”) to gobble up their competitors, eliminating “wasteful competition” and piling up massive profits. Those profits are laundered into policy — like replacing Ontario’s zero-waste refillable bottle system with a “recycling” system that sent plastics to the ends of the Earth to be set on fire or buried or dumped in the sea.

The ruling class’s pet economists have a name for this policy laundering: they call it “regulatory capture.” Now, when you hear “regulatory capture,” you might think about companies that get so big that they are able to boss governments around, with the obvious answer that companies need to be regulated before they get too big to jail:

https://doctorow.medium.com/small-government-fd5870a9462e

But that’s not how elite economists talk about regulatory capture: for them, capture starts with the very existence of regulators. For them, any government agency that proposes to protect the public from corporate fraud and murder inevitably becomes an agent of the corporations it is supposed to rein in, so the only answer is to eliminate regulators altogether:

https://doctorow.medium.com/regulatory-capture-59b2013e2526

This nihilism lets rich people blame the rest of us for their sins: “if you didn’t want your children to roast or freeze to death in the climate emergency, you should have sold your car and used the subway (that we bribed your city not to build).”

Nihilism is contagious. Think of the music industry: before Napster, 80% of the music ever recorded was not for sale, banished to the scrapheap of history and the vaults of record companies who paid farcically low sums to their artists.

During the File Sharing Wars, listeners were excoriated for failing to pay for music — much of which wasn’t for sale in the first place. But today, fans overwhelmingly pay for Spotify, a streaming service that notoriously pays musicians infinitesimal sums for their work.

Spotify is a creature of the Big Three labels — Sony, Universal and Warner — who own 70% of all the world’s recorded music copyrights and 65% of all the world’s music publishing. The rock-bottom per-stream prices that Spotify pays were set by the Big Three. Why would the labels want less money from Spotify?

Simple: as co-owners of Spotify, they make more money when Spotify pays less for music. Musicians have a claim on the money they take out of Spotify as royalties — but dividends, buybacks and capital gains from Spotify are the labels’ to use as they see fit. They can share that bounty with some artists, all artists, or no artists.

Not only that, but the Big Three’s deal with Spotify includes a “most favored nation” clause, which means that the independent artists who aren’t under Sony/UMG/Warner’s thumb have to take the rock-bottom rate the Big Three insisted on — likewise the small labels who compete with the Big Three. The difference is that none of these artists and small labels have massive portfolios of Spotify stock, nor do they get free advertising on Spotify, or free inclusion on hot Spotify playlists, or monthly minimum payouts from Spotify.

The idea that we shop at the wrong kind of monopolist in the wrong way is a recipe for absolute despair. It doesn’t matter whether you listen to music with the Big Tech-owned monopoly service (Youtube) or the Big Content-owned monopoly service (Spotify). The money you hand over to these giant companies goes to artists the same way that the sneakers you put in a Dow collection bin goes to a recycling plant.

Think of the billions of human labor hours we all spent washing and sorting our plastics for a recycling program that didn’t exist and will never exist — imagine if we’d spent that time and energy demanding that our politicians hold petrochemical companies to account instead.

At the end of Break ’Em Up, Zephyr Teachout’s outstanding 2020 book on monopolies, Teachout has some choice words for “consumerism” as a theory of change. She writes that if you’re on your way to a protest against a new Amazon warehouse but you never make it because you waste too much time looking for a mom-and-pop stationers to sell you a marker to write your protest sign, Amazon wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/29/break-em-up/#break-em-up

The problem isn’t that you shop the wrong way. Yes, by all means, support the creators and producers you care about in the way that they prefer, but keep your eye on the prize. Structural problems don’t have individual solutions. The problem isn’t that you have chosen single-use plastics — it’s that in our world everything for sale is packaged in single-use plastics. The problem isn’t that you’ve bought a subscription to the wrong music streaming service — it’s that labels have been allowed to buy all their competitors, creators’ unions have been smashed and degraded, and giant accounting scams by big companies generate minuscule fines.

The good news is that after 40 years of despair inducing regulatory nihilism and “vote with your wallet” talk, we’re finally paying attention to systemic problems, with a new generation of trustbusting radicals working around the world to end corporate impunity.

Dow is a repeat offender. A repeat, repeat offender. Chrissakes, they’re the linear descendants of Union Carbide, the company that poisoned Bhopal:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhopal_disaster

They shouldn’t be trusted to run a lemonade stand, let alone a “recycling” program. The same goes for Big Tech and Big Content company and the markets for creative labor. These companies have repeatedly demonstrated their unfitness, their habitual deception and immorality. These companies have captured their regulators, repeatedly, so we need better regulators — and weaker companies.

The thing I love about Teachout’s book is that it talks about what we should be demanding from our governments — it’s a manifesto for a movement against corporate power, not a movement for “responsible consumerism.” That was the template that Rebecca Giblin and I followed when we wrote Chokepoint Capitalism, our book about the brutal, corrupt creative labor market:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

We have a chapter on Spotify (multiple chapters, in fact!). For our audiobook, we made that chapter a “Spotify Exclusive” — it’s the only part of the book you can get on Spotify, and it’s free:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

Next Thu (Mar 2) I’ll be in Brussels for Antitrust, Regulation and the Political Economy, along with a who’s-who of European and US trustbusters. It’s livestreamed, and both in-person and virtual attendance are free. On Fri (Mar 3), I’ll be in Graz for the Elevate Festival.

[Image ID: A woman kneeling to tie her running shoe. She stands on a background of plastic waste. In the top right corner is the logo for Dow chemicals. Below it is the Dow slogan, 'Others see an old shoe. We see the future.']

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 19: A/B/O [MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with omega!max and alpha!reader. If you're under 18 or this is not something you're interested in, then scroll past. If you like what you see here, then check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic is part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail through asks on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!

(For a while now we've been discussing the idea of omega!max crashing and then going to heat when a marshal helps him out of the car, I thought that for today's kinktober we could finally give this concept it's own fic! If anyone wants to add their own thoughts or hear more about this, please send in some asks! I'll be tagging everything with 'marshal!reader')

You watch from your marshal post as a red bull goes wide and hits the barriers, the car spins twice and then settles, losing a wheel in the process. You wait until the yellow flag is out and then rush forward to collect the debris, as you have been trained.

You check on the driver, realising it's max when you see the number on the car. You try to confirm he's conscious, but when he spots you he motions for help getting out the car. There are other marshals already clearing the debris so you do as he asks.

The moment he's out the car, he's frantically trying to get his helmet off. He appears unharmed, but you can smell the fear off him from a mile away.

The moment his helmet is off, he takes a few deep breaths, looks at you, and then just drops his helmet and gloves and dives into your arms. You nearly both topple down, having not expected it, but luckily you manage to catch him.

He whines high in his throat, turning his neck to the side as he clings to you and that's when you smell it. The scent of slick finally making itself known.

You realise he's in heat.

You try to back away, knowing you're unmated alpha and that he must be reacting to you. But he whines and clings to you even tighter, refusing to let you go.

"Don't leave," he mumbles against you, "please don't leave."

The medical car arrives but max still refuses to let you go, trying to hide against your neck.

The doctor ends up telling you to come with him, knowing that trying to get an omega in heat away from an alpha they've chosen is a losing battle. You don't want to leave your post, but your instincts are completely honed into the omega who won't let you go.

You know you have to go with them.

Max is whining the whole car ride to the medical centre, hissing at the doctor when he opens the door when they arrive. You have to coax Max out of the car, promising him that you're coming with and that you won't leave him.

Not that you would ever want to leave him.

They end up injecting heat suppressants into his arm, which calms him down enough that you can convince him to let you go and escape out the medical centre.

It hurts so much, because all your instincts are screaming at you to go back and look after the omega who has chosen you. But logically you know that's not the case. Max must have gone into a shock heat when he crashed, and you were simply the first alpha he encountered. He doesn't even know your name, there's no way it's anything more than instincts and now that he's been giving suppressants, you're sure he's going to be mortified once he can think straight.

So you leave.

What you dont know though, is that the suppressants stop working after a few hours and he asks for the marshal who helped him. They offer him several toys and other alphas, even Daniel shows up to offer to help. Max turns everyone down, crying out for the marshal.

[juneknight]

Spring Cleaning

Kink: Glove kink

Jake Lockley/f!reader

You find Jake’s gloves while cleaning.

*

His arm wraps around your waist when you’re at the sink, elbow deep in suds. He draws you back against himself and you feel the firm plains of the body, so familiar to you now. For a moment, you mistake him for Marc; it would not be the first time he had tried to interrupt your spring cleaning today for sex.

But then he kisses just beneath your ear and whispers in his soft, accented voice: “¿Qué estás haciendo?”

“Dishes,” you answer. You hold up your hands, covered in wispy suds, for him to see. He sees the faint tremble in your fingers and you feel his mouth spread into a grin where he’s pressing kisses to your neck.

“The flat looks incredible.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. But you know it’s coming. You know it. You have been dreading it all day, since you found Jake’s gloves this morning in the little nook where he hides them (along with his cap, his keys, and other items that you thought might be illegal).

You hadn’t been able to help yourself. Jake’s gloves were sacred to him, and as such, they had become something of a legend to you. You felt them on the rare occasions when he took your hand in his own, the buttery softness of the authentic leather, the smooth seams made warm from his skin.You watched his hands, often, when he drove, memorizing the smooth sound of leather wisping against the steering wheel as he made a turn and let the wheel return to its typical position.

The gloves made you hot. The gloves drove you mad.

And you had just wanted to see if they would fit you. They fit Jake so tightly, truly made for him. But the leather had a soft give, and with the adjustable strap on the back, you believed that they could fit you too. Hands shaking, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Marc wasn’t returning to the flat unexpectedly, you tugged the gloves into place.

They were a little loose—but not as much as you might have feared. A shaky breath slipped past your lips. You had traced your leather clad fingers over the surface of your forearm and felt the skipping of your heart. This was Jake’s touch. This is what it would feel like if you ever got up the nerve to ask him to touch you with his gloves still on.

You had only intended to try them on briefly, but instead you had ended up in your bed, three leather-clad fingers deep in your cunt, crying out your orgasm to an empty flat. When you were finished, you had replaced everything perfectly, face burning hot with embarrassment at what you had done. What would Jake think if he ever found out? God, you’d never be able to look at those gloves the same again!

Except you’re looking at them now as he raises his hand up to linger in your line of sight.

“I think you missed a spot,” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb softly against his first two fingers. Your knees nearly give out, body held up only by the strong press of his own crowding you into the kitchen sink, his arm around your waist. His fingers come close enough that you can just smell a hint of your feminine scent beneath the leather.

He taps your lips twice. Obediently, you open them and let him slip the gloved fingers inside, lapping at them with your tongue. You can barely taste yourself: clean with a hint of salt. Then just leather, leather, and more leather.

“Good girl,” says Jake. “Get them nice and clean for me. Then we’ll find ways to dirty them up again, yes?”

[toruro]

maknae line + making up after a fight

a/n: part one with the argument can be found here and hyung line's verson is here! i think the one for seokmin is like the cutest thing i've ever come up with. like i'm gushing, rolling on the floor, thrashing, crying just thinking about it. hopefully u will feel the same way sorry not sorry :p anyways i didn't have much work today so i decided to work on this earlier than i planned c: please like and reblog if you enjoy this!

w/c: 2.0k

seokmin

the next morning after your fight, both you and seokmin are, naturally, more level headed than before, but the wounds are still fresh. both of you being on the more emotional side, it'll take a bit more than one night's of sleep to *fully* refresh your minds, but right now you guys are as calm as you can be given the circumstances. when you wake up, he'd still be asleep, and you would slip out of bed carefully to make yourself some coffee in the kitchen while you wait for him. it'll take some time, but soon seokmin will be crawling out of bed too, silently joining you in the kitchen as you place the cup of coffee you made for him on the counter. he almost doesn't notice it. almost. when he looks down at the mug, he has to blink twice to realize which one it is. the mug is black with a big fat red heart in the middle, words in white reading out "i <3 you." it was a cheesy souvenir you'd bought him ages ago when you first started dating and went on trip to new york by yourself, but seokmin loved it so much he vowed to only use it on special occasions to "preserve it's greatness." the last time he used the mug was on his birthday around two months ago, tucking it back into it's safe corner in your cupboard to take out on the next special day. right now, his eyes flicker between the mug and your face as you look down, face burning as you wait for his response. seokmin can feel the emotions bubbling up inside of him, but it's not like last night—it isn't harsh, or heated, or angry—no, it's warm and fuzzy. in fact, his heart is swelling with so much love for you that he can't even remember why he was mad in the first place, quickly reaching over and bringing you in for a tight hug. you nearly start crying when you feel his arms around you, choking back quiet tears as he rests his head into the crook of your neck, murmuring soft "i love yous."

mingyu

you wake up before mingyu, somewhat in a haze and trying to cuddle closer to him as he has an arm draped of your waist, before you remember the events of the night before. you'd suddenly be tentative of your next moves because while you're much calmer right now, you were the one who suggested sleeping in different rooms, guilt slowly creeping up your spine. you kind of just lay there for a few moments, turning your head so you can take a look at his face which looks much more peaceful than the frustrated expression that donned his face the night before. you sigh sadly, realizing that you kind of need to solve this issue right now or else you won't have peace of mind, choosing to place a hand on his shoulder and gently tap on his bicep so he can stir awake. it takes a few groans and incoherent mumbles for mingyu to finally blink his eyes open, eyes lazily following your gaze to land on you, taking a deep inhale as you both just stare at each other while laying down. you're the first to speak, "i really wanted to talk. sorry for waking you," you'd mumble sheepishly, realizing that you didn't think of what you actually wanted so say. you're half expecting mingyu to scoff, wondering if his anger from the night before didn't wear out, so it's easy to say you'd be pleasantly surprised when he throws you a half smile, nodding his head and propping himself on the headboard, replying a simple, "it's okay. i want to talk too." the next moments are spent with you both still under the covers but talking, and it's not yelling like the night before, no, it's an actual discussion. it progresses well, and by the end of it both you and mingyu are embarrassed by how simple the solution was, realizing that this whole issue could have been resolved much easier if you were both more...level headed. safe to say that mingyu would feel extremely bad for the rest of the day, being extra clingy and not leaving your side no matter what you do.

minghao

arguments with minghao hardly ever escalate to the point where either of you is still upset or angry the next morning, if at all. of course, if discussion still needs to happen, it will, and that's exactly what would happen the morning after your fight the night before. you'd both wake up around the same time and minghao would encourage you to get out of bed so you could talk about this face to face, sitting at the table. you'd sit down across from each other, maintaining a little distance for the sake of your hearts, and then he'd reach a hand over and hold yours the entire time through your conversation, squeezing it lightly whenever he feels you needed reassurance or a reminder that he loves you and always will. the conversation is over quick, and you're glad the issue out of the way so soon, standing up so minghao can pull you into a deep hug. he'd press your face into his chest, loving the way you instinctively wrap your arms around his torso as he presses soft kisses into your forehead. once he pulls back he'd stare at you for a few moments and murmur, "i love you so much," before leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. after that, things would go pretty much back to normal but i like to think that he might just baby you a little extra today.

seungkwan

after making you cry so much the night before, seungkwan would hardly be able to sleep the entire night. he'd try his best to not toss and turn since you were sleeping so peacefully right next to him, but ever time he closes his eyes the image of your tear streaked face pops up into the forefront of his mind and he finds himself crumbling all over again. but as miserable as he'd feel, seungkwan doesn't want to wallow in self pity, instead using all the time that he's awake to brainstorm ways to make things up for you. he is finally able to sleep, luckily, but wakes up earlier in the morning than usual as you're usually up before him. he takes you sleeping as a chance to slip out and into the kitchen where he tries his absolute best to cook something nice for breakfast. he'd be a bit clumsy with it, but the final product would be something very much to your liking, so the slight irritation you feel when you're woken up to the sound of pots and pans clanging against each other would wither away when you saw the meal he prepared for you. once he notices you in the kitchen, he'd grow slightly flustered before putting down whatever kitchen tools he's holding and greet you good morning before encouraging you to sit down. you'd do so silently, not expecting seungkwan to start rambling out an apology so fast and desperate that you'd need to put your hands on his shoulders and say, "baby, baby, slow down, please?" and he'd take a deep breath and realize that it was too much and start over but more clearly. his words are thought through, you realize and it starts a nice and calm conversation between the two of you. give it like twenty minutes and the air would be cleared and the issue would be resolved and seungkwan would have his arms wrapped around you so fucking tightly while continuing to whisper out apologies, causing you to hit his shoulder lightly and tell him to shut up because you forgive him and you love him and that nothing else matters.

vernon

vernon would be up before you, and similar to seungkwan, would be stressing the whole night just out of the guilt. he knows you were frustrated with him the night before, and frankly, he's frustrated with himself now. definitely feels like he could have been more responsive the night before...it's just that his emotions were so clouded that nothing was really processing in his brain. now that he's had the night to rest and think and all, he's ready to really take on the situation, determined to not make the same mistakes as before. when you wake up finally, you'd find him sitting on the living room couch, nervously twiddling his fingers together, jumping up when he notices you. stuttering out a quick good morning, you'd ask him why he's up before you, since that's not normal, causing him to bashfully admit, "i couldn't sleep. i wanna talk to you." you frown at the thought of him not being able to sleep well, but nod anyways, joining his side so you can sit face-to-face on the couch. "i'm sorry," vernon would say once you settle down, "but last night my mind just wasn't working. i know that's not fair to you, but i'm ready to talk now," he explains and you shoot him a small, thankful smile before beginning to speak. you speak your mind in small chunks, letting vernon take it in and respond on his own. things are going much slower than before, but at least you're both talking and it's calm, it's responsive, and most of all, it's getting you somewhere. within around half an hour you'd both be wrapped up in each other's arms now that the issue's resolved. you'd giggle as vernon presses a kiss onto your neck, murmuring something along the lines of, "vernon! we need to eat!" only causing him to shake his head and say, "nuh-uh. i'm keeping you here all day long."

chan

when you wake up, you're still in chan's arms, as expected—ever since you started sharing a bed, neither you or him have been able to sleep well without being pressed up against each other. your back is facing his and for a moment you think he's still asleep, but when you gently try to shuffle out of his embrace to get up, you're surprised to feel him tug bag. you'd look down, whispering, "you awake channie?" and the use of his nickname would have his heart clenching. he'd hum something in response that's supposed to come off as a yes, loosening his hold on you as you both sit up so you can turn to look at him. he rubs his eyes a few times as you shift your body so it's facing his, and as soon as his vision is cleared he notices the frown on your face. you don't look upset or angry, rather...the look on your face is solemn, and he immediately reminded of the night before. "hey," he murmurs, reaching his hand out, "can we talk? like right now?" you nod quickly in agreement, squeezing his fingers back gently. you two begin talking about the situation and at some point you start crying—just a little—but enough to have chan pulling you into your arms to calm you down before letting the conversation resume. you're both determined to not have a screaming match like last night and do everything in your power to make sure that while you're communicating your emotions, things don't get out of hand. it takes a bit of time but the issue is soon resolved, and once even a hint of a smile is making its way onto your face, chan is swooping down to capture your lips to a kiss that's so passionate it has you falling backward on the bed, back hitting the mattress. you laugh lightly and the sound is literally fucking music to his ears, and you both bask in the feeling of each other in your arms.

[misskattylashes]

Part two of our EYCTE to OMB and back again essay

Part 2

Resolution

The final parts of the cycle are The Car and One Man Band. The Car is an album of self reflection from Alex, but unlike TBHC where he blames the world around them for their problems, he is taking a long good look at himself. Tracks like I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am and Big Ideas deal with fame and the ridiculousness of it. But it is opening track Mirrorball that sets the scene of what the majority of the album is about. Alex is the romantic fool. Miles is the one who used to always cut and run (where’s that insatiable appetite to look them in the eyes and say baby it’s been nice). Sculptures ends with a plea to Miles to be the one to help him come down from being ‘Alex Turner’ (flash that angle grinder smile etc), then onto Jet Skis on the Moat. I am still of the conviction that Jet Skis is a personal in joke between the pair of them. But the rest of the track, to me points to their reconciliation. Miles has admitted to having depression after EYCTE and lines like ‘didn’t recognise you through the smoke, Pyjama pants and a subutteo cloak’, and ‘you know it’s alright if you wanna cry’ indicate someone who has let themselves go a bit (see Doubles on OMB).

Body Paint is the heart of the album. It is Alex’s letter to himself. ‘For a master of deception and subterfuge you’ve made yourself quite the bed to lie in’. In other words, his attempts of leading his double lives have come and bitten him on the bum. It always fascinates me that it is during Body Paint on the tour that the screen behind shows several images of Alex all at once, which I always think represents his many personas.

Hello You makes mention of Electric Warrior (T Rex Album – Miles is a massive fan) and the line about ‘picking your moment along a country lane, the kind where the harmonies feel right at home’ talks very much of two young boys in the French countryside recording their first album. Let’s not forget that during the tour, the Mirrorball only ever came down for Mirrorball, 505 and Hello You….

Then we get Mr Schwartz, I think even non Milexers are pretty aware that Mr Schwartz is autobiographical, even if they just believe it is about the persona that Alex puts on. But on a deeper, Milex level, the opening like put your heavy metal to the test, to me is a play on testing your mettle, to see if someone has the strength to stick something out. The middle eight, ‘having attempted twice both incorrectly, do we get a third try’, I don’t think this is talking about TLSP, I think this is talking about their relationship. It would seem it became romantic during the recording of TAOTU, but the demands of Alex’s fame and need to appear straight got in the way, as well as Miles’ reluctance to commit. EYCTE nearly pulled them apart because their relationship was being played out in public night after night on tour, it became too much and almost broke them. I think the third try relates to today’s Milex. Understated, virtually invisible, played out in private with just their closest friends in the know. To the public Alex is Mr Schwartz with the gorgeous girlfriend and straight image, but it’s all part of the show. The Car is Alex’s grown up album, his realisation that some things are worth waiting for, that he is to blame for the mess his life is in and a plea to Miles to be patient because there may well be a place for dolls like them, if they only bide their time and let Alex do his thing because people are depending on him.

Finally we have One Man Band, Miles’ album of self reflection. It starts with Troubled Son where Miles admits he always runs away before things get too deep. Part of the reason I think Alex let it slide after EYCTE, was he was possibly convinced Miles was going to run away again anyway. Another interesting track is Baggio. In the past Miles has spoken of his childhood heroes and it has often been the Beatles. It was only really last year he opened up about Baggio and the effect him and the 1994 Italian football team had on eight year old Miles. He admitted to finding them sexy, so he is as good as saying his sexual awakening involved men, not women. Which I think is a big admission, as I have said before I think privately young Miles was the one with issues around his sexuality more than Alex.

Then we have The Wonder, which Miles issued a press release saying it was about reflecting on the return of a former lover….’this time it’s never ending, hold back the fear, your touch so ever tempting, I’ll keep you near’ ahem…

Ransom is Miles singing to a lover who has hold of his heart and this time he has run out of money to pay the ransom…in other words he can’t run away now like he has done before. Then finally we have Scared of Love, which is pretty much what it says on the tin. Miles confessing to our unseen lover that he is scared of love and them admitting they are too, but it’s okay.

So, there we have our cycle. It starts with Alex wanting to be one of the strokes – ie wanting to be famous and it has fucked up his life and his most important relationship, and ends with Miles admitting he’s scared of love, so maybe if he’d had a bit more courage he would have held on when Alex cooled down after EYCTE and not let them temporarily fall apart.

Which leads me to my opinion that we’re not going to get TLSP 3 any time soon. I get the feeling that for much of EYCTE their relationship was still in that in-between friends/lovers/not quite knowing what they are even though they loved each other, but after a period apart and a lot of self-reflection their relationship is different, so the stage dynamic would be different too. The sort of mock making out would probably feel awkward to them, and we all know Alex finds it hard to keep away from Miles when he’s nearby (hello Dublin night two), so would we end up with ECYTE part 2, which would be great for us as an audience, but maybe they don’t want the intensity of it to break them apart again.

So with the circle complete, we move forward. Miles has The Evils, and it would appear Alex is working with Tom and Loren on something. It would be great to see The Shadow Puppets together again; but personally I can do without it, if it means for the majority of the time they can be together in peace enjoying the life they deserve. They’ve waited long enough for it.

[apomaro-mellow]

Whatever Stevie Wants 9

Part 8

Chrissy had seen the gang upset. She’d seen them angry and raging either at each other or society, sometimes even at the paparazzi or a rabid fan. She had never seen them, any of them, like this. Even when she got them to calm down enough to tell her what was going on and why they needed to go home, the only way to describe them was wrathful.

She told them to go. That she would handle things on this end and to put their all into helping Steve. 

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

Wayne knew Eddie had arrived when he heard tires skid outside. He was sitting in the living room, head in his hands. Beatrice was pacing around but she stopped when the boys started coming through the door.

“Where is he?!”

“We know everything we already told you”, Wayne said, getting to his feet.

“We thought you’d know more”, Beatrice said. “Steve never told you anything about his parents?”

“What does that matter now? We need to find him!”, Jeff yelled.

“AND OUR PUPS!”, Eddie roared.

The room began to fill with sour notes, mostly from Eddie and Jeff but more subdued ones coming from Gareth and Grant as well. They had been riled up the entire trip home and wanted nothing more but to take action.

“I need all of you to get a grip”, Wayne said.

“But Steve-”, Grant started.

“We need to think of his safety too”, Beatrice cut him off. “Why would his parents do this?”

“Because they think we’re not good enough for him.” Eddie started to pace, although it was more like stomping around. “They don’t like us. They don’t like the girls. They’re probably trying to break the bond as we speak!”

Jeff went up to his mother. “Mom, if they do anything to my baby, I swear…”

“We’ll get them back, all of them”, she assured him. “And then we are going to sue those people to the ground.”

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

Margaret smiled at Steve from across the table. Dessert was done and normally they would adjourn to the next room for drinks. But she didn’t think Steve having any alcohol was a good idea right now and he had spent the entire day refreshing his etiquette. He had done quite well today and she thought he deserved a reward.

“Your father and I are going to have drinks. You may spend your evening with your children. Tell Eleanor that she is relieved for the night.”

Steve had been nearly catatonic the entire day, but he perked up at hearing that. Then he schooled his features and nodded with only the smallest of smiles.

“Thank you, mother.”

He stood calmly and left the dining room, keeping an even pace as he made his way to the nursery. He walked inside and politely dismissed Eleanor. One silver lining was that she was nice, even if she deferred to his mother. He couldn’t exactly blame her for going along with the woman who was signing her check. 

Once she was gone, he closed the door and collapsed onto the floor, kissing Violet all over and then Vanessa, relishing in their giggles and gummy grins. They were dressed very nicely in their pajamas, matching sets. He wanted to be happy about how cute they looked but it was wrapped in bitter feelings. Violet looked preoccupied with whatever she was doing with blocks before he came in, so he picked up Vanessa and went over to the rocking chair.

He’d started pumping so the others in his pack could feed the girls and they’d even started the girls on soft solids. But there weren't any bottles of formula and more importantly, he needed a moment to be close with his baby. So he unbuttoned his shirt and she latched on with ease. Steve stroked her hair, smiling so hard, he thought he might cry.

Then Vanessa reached up and gave his face an uncoordinated pat and he did start crying.

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

Steve sat at the table with his mother. They were at a brunch spot to meet with the first of his prospective suitors. When they did this in his youth, Steve could at least sympathize with someone who was also being put through this by their parents. Now, seeing a man twice his age approach, he had less sympathy.

“Findlay, it’s so good to see you”, Margaret greeted him warmly.

“Always a pleasure”, he kissed the back of her hand cordially. Then he gave his attention to Steve. “And this must be your lovely son.”

“Nice to meet you”, Steve held his hand out. He held back the flinch when his hand was kissed as well.

“Likewise.”

Then the man sat and carried on a conversation mostly with his mother. Steve didn’t expect much different. This was basically a business transaction and he was the product being traded. He only needed to respond every now and then. He remembered what his parents told him about this one. His wealth was the most important part to them. His most defining characteristic to Steve was the fact that he was fine adopting Violet, but not Vanessa.

He was well practiced in keeping his negative feelings to himself when it came to these people. He knew speaking his mind wouldn’t get him very far. While his mother and Findlay spoke, he busied himself with eating his food. But he reminded himself to also not eat too eagerly, lest he incur a snide remark.

The brunch ended and things were looking good, at least for his mother and they stood as they were saying their parting remarks. 

“I have high hopes for us, Steven. The daughter I would take on…I believe her name is Violet? I’m sure she will get on well with her other siblings.”

She already has a sister. “She already has a sister”, Steve said. He could hear his mother hiss his name under her breath but he ignored it.

“So I have heard”, Findlay said. “But as I told your parents, that one wouldn’t be quite the right fit for my family.”

That one?!

The slap echoed in the tea room and all the conversation stopped. Findlay’s eyes were wide and Margaret’s jaw was on the floor. But she was the first to recover.

“Steven!”, she said through grit teeth.

“No, you’re right, my apologies.” Steve grabbed a plate from a nearby table and threw it in Findlay’s face, painting him in chicken salad. He turned his nose up and walked away, head held high. 

He might be forced to meet these people. He might have to pretend to be open to their courtship. But he wouldn’t let anyone disrespect his pups.

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

Eddie was on the phone with Robin. Gareth was on the phone with the police. Grant was talking to Chrissy about the story they’d need to release to the public. Jeff was on a laptop, finding the address for the Harrington estate.

They were going to save their beloveds, end the Harrington name forever, and raise some hell along the way.

Part 10

[hanmaitani]

Almost You

PAIRING - Oikawa Tooru x Reader WC - 0.8K GENRE - Angst SYNOPSIS - you hate his generic name and his stupid unspecial brown hair. hate the way you can’t do anything without seeing a knockoff of him there. it was almost him and now you see almost him in everything, in everyone, everywhere.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

“Tooru!”

It was a girl’s voice that caught your attention and you froze mid-action. There was no way he-

“Tooru! Baby!”

Your neck nearly snapped as you whipped your head over to where the girl's voice seemed to be coming from. Your eyes followed her figure as you watched her run into the arms of a blonde guy in front of the coffee shop a few doors down.

You swallowed hard and shook your head. A soft breath that you'd accidentally held passed through your lips. Of course it wasn’t him.

There was no reason for him to be here, not when were on the opposite end of the prefecture from where he usually frequented. You rolled your eyes at your own paranoia.

You hated it. All of it. The paranoia about seeing him. The reaction you had to merely just hearing his name.

You felt ridiculous. Like you’d cursed myself. You hadn’t realized how common the name Tooru really was until you’d broken up.

You never needed to pay attention to how common it was before. He was the only one that mattered to you anyways.

But now?

Now it was like you couldn’t go a full week without hearing it at least twice. Seeing it on a paper or hearing someone call it.

It was like you couldn’t do anything new without meeting someone who just so happens to have the same name.

You rolled your eyes at yourself again and took a deep breath to try and steady your nerves. Continuing to walk forward, you aimed your steps towards the coffee shop you’d just watched the couple disappear into.

Coffee was the goal of your adventure today. Only coffee.

You couldn’t stop yourself from tapping your foot and mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you waited for your turn in line. Distractions from the aching inside of you caused by the constant reminders of Tooru everywhere.

That was what most of your days started as now. The pain of trying to break all the habits.

The instinct to turn over in the morning to greet him, to text him in the middle of your work day to check in, to call him on your way home to ask what you should get or make for dinner.

The days went on and it was less and less of that.

But some days. Some days were worse than others. Like today.

“Just give me a moment.” The sound of the barista’s voice drew your eyes up and you felt your breath leave your chest again. The man on the other side of the counter from you was facing away from the line, finishing off the previous drink.

It was his hair that sent your brain reeling. Perfect brown waves covering his head.

Just like Tooru.

He turned to face you, a smile gracing his face. A total stranger. And you could only imagine what you looked like, shock painted over your features as you stood there frozen, silent.

“You okay ma’am?” A charming smile, just like Tooru’s. Almost but not him. “What can I get you?”

“I’m so sorry.”  You croaked out and took a shaky step back.

You hated Tooru. His stupid generic name.

“I’ve changed my mind.” You whipped yourself around and rushed back towards the door.

Hated Tooru. His stupid unspecial brown hair.

You rushed, trying not to think, trying to get home as fast as possible.

You hated him. Hated the way you couldn’t do anything without seeing a knockoff of him there.

You wwere quick to get home, barely remembering the way there. Just the slamming of your door as you pressed your back against it.

You glanced over at the few boxes you had left in your new apartment. Three boxes.

You felt something wet drip onto my chest and brought your hand up. Tears. You hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until then but your cheeks were soaked.

You sniffled and felt your legs give out under you.

You’d tried.

Tried to go out today.

For the first time in weeks you’d tried.

But you couldn’t do it. Not yet.

You pulled your knees up to your chest. Your eyes caught the framed poster sticking out of one of the boxes.

A poem he’d written and had framed on a star map of the night you finally agreed to be his girlfriend.

When the stars aligned and the moon was bright, that was when I realized the time was right.

It felt like you were suffocating.

It was almost him.

He was almost your life.

It was almost him and now you had to see ‘almost him’ in everything, in everyone, everywhere.

a/n a/n thanks for coming to the free therapy of fictionalizing my irl breakup experiences. yes this actually happened. partially based on an unreleased song by @/leannafirestone on tiktok based on "You Just Didn't Like Me That Much" by Leanna Firestone

TAGLIST - OPEN

@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @winniethepooh-lover

[sharp-silver4795]

X-Virus HCs

Y’all wanted Proxies, I give you proxies.

Divider Creds: Sister-Lucifer

Warning ‼️

Murder, sh0ts mentioned, a tad bit of NSFW at the end- but I don’t think it’s that bad

General

Not financially responsible at all

Can’t keep a secret for the life of him

His head is war torn by ADHD. The only reason he does his job consistently is because he enjoys it and his life is on the line

His name is Cody Chess. Idk if the story said his last name but that’s what last name I popped on there.

He keeps Neon’s crossbow in his lab. Poor guy misses his mentor.

He was on his way to CalTech before Slenderman

In the Mansion

He’s the Median Proxy to Toby until Toby leaves. But he doesn’t have to worry about it for too long cuz he dies.

Anyway- as the median proxy, he had to be ready to kill his fellow proxies on the spot.

His nailed up bat makes it much easier to do it but it still makes him cry 😔

After Neon Spike dies, he’s left in charge of making chemicals that can and will kill within seconds.

Before EJ or Ann, he had work as a “doctor”

He nearly had a panic attack when someone got sh0t in the neck.

Still today, no one knows how the hell Tim lived that day.

He was also a field proxy which means he was burning down buildings and breaking windows with Toby at least twice a month.

Sexuality, Partners, Gender, etc.

Pan, Cis guy, and Polyamorous

His crush Kate and Kat had him in a choke hold for a while

Too bad for him, Kat’s straight and Kate’s aro/ace

Him and Toby platonically cuddle on the regular.

Legit nearly cried when he realized Toby wasn’t interested.

He’s too hyper s3xual for his own good, and was disappointed to find out that Toby was ace.

But he drinks his respecc juice, so he didn’t try to pressure him.

He just wants love and s3x

He gets cuddles from his besties tho

Requests and Asks are Open!

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Ahhhh requests!!!!

I can't get enough of Fen, could I request a spicy scenario with him? Maybe where the reader is feeling really needy but is also too shy to ask for anything?

I know you said scenario, but unfortunately I'm going to need to do HCs as I'm not in the right headspace for a full scenario, but I wanna write this one, so I tried to mix it up a bit. I hope you enjoy regardless ^^

Offender can pick up on when you're feeling needy before even you are able to sometimes, and today is definitely one of those days. You've been clinging to him since you woke up this morning, following him around the house, keeping your arms wrapped around him, nuzzling your face into him, gazing up at him with those needy eyes of yours, and it's been driving him wild, however... Fen, for me, is a gentleman first and foremost, and he always wants to be completely sure that you'd like something to happen before he initiates something, which can be difficult when you cling to him so much but shy away and avert your eyes if he says a suggestive comment, so the two of you end up doing a bit of back and forth flirting until he's fully ready to take charge for you.

"Is there something I can do for you, Little Dove?" He coos at you, gentle and flirtatious as he wraps an arm around your waist and cups your cheek with his other, angling your face so he can look at you without you shying away. Your cheeks begin to warm as he looks down at you, care and desire radiating off of his form as he presses you against himself, your arms clinging to him in response. "You know I'm willing to satisfy you in any way you might desire, but you have to ask me for it first." He whispers into your ear, and it causes you to shiver, clinging to him even more. While Offender enjoys sex, what he enjoys even more is being a romantic, and he values consent above all else. All you need to do is ask for something, anything at all, so that he knows you truly want this, and he can take care of the arousal practically seeping out of the both of you. As you look up at him, lust shining in your eyes, and finally whisper the words, "Please, touch me..." against his lips, that's all he needs before he's lifting you up and carrying you right back to bed.

When you get needy like this it gets him so incredibly worked up, and it just makes him want to draw out every single thing he does to you to make sure it drives you just as crazy as it drives him. He spends a long time kissing you, working his lips across your body, dragging his tongue sensually across your neck and chest, working his fingers along your skin until you can't take it anymore and you beg him to touch you there. He'll smirk against your skin, pressing a few kisses as he apologizes, and then he'll finally touch your hot, throbbing sex in the way that he knows drives you wild. He always starts off slow, just so he can pull whimpers out of you, and the louder you get the faster he'll begin to go, using his hands and his mouth all at once to turn you into a crying, begging mess below him, to make sure you're getting the satisfaction you've so obviously craved from him all day. 

He always makes sure you've finished at least once or twice, and by that point you're begging for more, begging to feel him inside of you, begging for him to fuck you like he always does, deep and loving and pleasurable, more pleasurable than anything you've felt before, and who is he to deny you of such a request? Like with his hands, he always starts off slow, but by this point, you're no longer shy, and you're faster to make requests at just how you want him to use his cock inside of you. Days like today have him so worked up that he doesn't need much to get going, and your body feels so good that he could cum for you at nearly any given moment, however, he's not selfish enough for that, and he always does his best to make sure that he cums when you do, or at least as close to when you do as possible. When he hears you whine in that specific tone he knows you're nearly there, when your body is clenching down around him and you're begging him for release. He'll use his hands again, thrusting into you in the pattern he knows you love the most, his lips against yours, his words of praise brushing against you, and when your chest arches into him, those beautiful moans echoing out of you, he'll finish right alongside you, filling you nice and deep as you cling to each other as your life depends on it. He'll hold you nice and close, whispering words of praise and awe, caring for you, and making sure you're alright. Once you're settled, he'll bring your hands to his lips, reverently pressing kisses to them, praising you like a god, and he'll purr out those familiar words that always make your cheeks warm again. "It's always a pleasure to be able to make such a divine creature feel so wonderful, and I look forward to the next time you allow me into your heavenly embrace, my sweet darling above."

[stayoasis]

This is my first fan fiction. I know it probably seems a bit rushed especially the ending, and I'm really sorry about that, but I hope it's good enough for you. If you would like me to write something specific about any of stray kids please ask and if I can I will try.

Summery:

Felix was struggling with anxiety after moving into a new dorm, particularly due to the separation from his caregiver, Minho.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Felix was quietly playing video games in the new dorm. He really liked it; there was more space and fewer people, and it was really nice. But there was one thing Felix didn’t like: the fact that Minho wasn’t with him.

Felix was an age regressor, and Minho was his caregiver. Being separated made Felix anxious, despite knowing he would still see him almost every day and that Seungmin would look after him if needed.

He was playing games to distract himself, but it wasn’t working. In the game, there was a scene with a little boy and his mum, and it made him more upset. He turned off the console and layed on his bed, then went on TikTok, but of course, that didn’t help either. So he got up and went into the lounge, where Seungmin was sitting, watching TV.

He went over, sat next to Seungmin, and pressed himself against Seungmin’s side, sighing. “Will Minho and Innie come visit us today? I miss them,” he said while hugging Seungmin.

“I don’t know. But if they don’t, we’ll see them tomorrow anyway,” Seungmin responded, grabbing his phone.

The next few days passed, and Felix’s anxiety grew more and more. He hadn’t slept, drank, or eaten properly, and he’d regressed twice: the first time he was alone, and the second, Seungmin looked after him. He felt horrible but didn’t want Seungmin; he just wanted Minho.

He got so stressed that he nearly broke the TV and his hand. Seungmin was angry but quickly forgave him and promised not to tell anyone. Even though Felix begged him not to, he also wanted him to, thinking that maybe if Seungmin told Chan, it would get to Minho, and he’d come and help him.

One day during practice, Seungmin saw how exhausted Felix was and decided to tell Chan. He tried to help without bringing the others into it, but he couldn’t.

After practice, everyone went off to do their own things. 3RACHA went to the studio, Jeongin and Hyunjin went shopping, and Minho decided to stay behind for a bit longer. Before Chan went to the studio, Seungmin pulled him into an empty room.

“I should’ve asked before, but can we talk about something?” Chan nodded, and Seungmin began to explain what had been going on.

“You’ve probably seen it already, but since we moved dorms, Felix hasn’t been himself. He hasn’t been eating or sleeping. He nearly broke his hand by punching the TV. He’s been crying a lot, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to help, but..”

Chan kept a straight face, not showing his concern. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was really worried about Felix.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me. Try to get him to eat if you can, and I’ll talk to him tomorrow when I have nothing going on.”

Seungmin tried to get Felix to eat dinner. He even stole some of Minho’s food, but Felix refused to eat it, saying that he’d eaten a lot and wasn’t hungry. Seungmin knew it was a lie but didn’t know what to do.

The next day, Chan went over to Seungmin and Felix’s dorm to speak with him.

When he knocked on Felix’s door, he didn’t get an answer, so he knocked again and heard a sigh before “Come in.” Inside, Felix was curled up on the floor, doing something on his phone.

Chan went over to Felix and sat next to him."How are you feeling?" he asked, knowing it was a waste of time. "I'm good," Felix replied while texting his friend. "Felix... we need to talk." It took a while for Felix to open up, but eventually he did. Sobbing into Chan's shoulder, he explained everything he felt about the stress and anxiety he had from being separated from Minho and how he just wanted Minho to take care of him before he forgot about him.

After Felix calmed down, Chan separated himself from Felix, grabbed his phone, and texted someone. Very soon, Minho walked in and Chan left.

"Hey, baby." Almost immediately, Felix got up and ran to him. Even though he's been seeing him every day, being in his bedroom with him made him feel like they hadn't seen each other in weeks. The two hugged for a bit while Felix vented his feelings to him. Minho held Felix tightly, stroking his hair gently as Felix poured out his feelings.

After they pulled apart, Minho moved Felix to the bed and pulled out a dummy, giving it to Felix and saying he needed to make up for not being there for his baby.

Very quickly, the two were cuddling on Felix's bed, watching Frozen. And Felix fell asleep, and soon after, so did Minho.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

☆

Masterlist

☆

[delayed-affection]

Kiss me goodbye

Navigation Oneshots

Ethan Edwards x reader

Warnings: takes place near the end of sophomore year, pet name used like twice (Honey, Baby)

Word Count: 0.7k

When Ethan was drafted into the Devils it was the happiest you’ve ever seen him and yet he chose to stay and play at Michigan.

And you knew that one day he would have to leave to go fulfill his dream of being a hockey player but you never thought it would happen so soon.

Yet here you are, pacing in your dorm room wishing for time to stop. Ethan said that he would be stopping by before he had leave.

You’re honestly glad you didn’t have any classes today, unsure if you could even last the day without crying.

You’re fully aware that he’s not dying or anything, but you have two years left of school and you won’t be able finish it with him.

You stop pacing when there’s a knock on the door, opening it you Ethan on the side. He immediately pulls you into a hug.

"Sorry I’m late." he whispers into your ear, his voice cracking with emotion.

You can feel his body trembling against yours, and you know that he's been crying. You wrap your arms around him, offering the comfort he so desperately needs.

You guide him inside and close the door, leading him to your bed where you both sit down.

Sitting turns into laying and laying turns into cuddling.

You nuzzle your head into his chest, “I don’t want you to leave.”

He rubs your back, “I know, honey. But hey we’ll see each other in the summer.”

“That’s so far from now.” You whine

He chuckles finding you missing him cute, “It’s like three months from now.”

You pick your head up to look at him, “And when summers over?”

“Why not think about seeing me in the summer?” He questions

You put you head back on his chest, “Because I know we won’t be seeing each other after that.”

“Honey, Baby, look at me.” He tells you, “Do you know who I’m still going to be annoying the shit out of everyday?”

You give him a confused look.

“You. And do you know who I’m going to be texting before and after every game? Or calling when I can’t fall asleep?” He asks

“Me, I hope.” You joke

He kisses your forehead and laughs, “Exactly. Everything I do now, I’ll do when I’m out there. The only difference is that I’ll be blowing up your phone to the point that you’re sick of me.”

“Well I’ll be blowing your phone up as soon as you leave.” You claim

“When aren’t you blowing up my phone?” He teases

“I rarely do.” You argue

“My tiktok notifications say otherwise.”

~

The two of you now stand by the door knowing that he has leave.

He gives you a sad smiles and says, "I love you."

You don't say anything in return. But the hot tears begin to run down your face. He holds your face in his hands, looking at you. His eyes are glazed over.

"You can't cry cause then I’ll cry." he says sniffling.

He wipes away your tears, “And we both know I’m an ugly crier.”

You let out a choked laugh.

He wipes away a tear before it could fall, “Don’t laugh, not everyone was blessed to be a pretty crier.”

“Please you’re the prettiest person I know.” You quip

He smiles and shakes his head, “Thank you but you didn’t say I was the prettiest crier.”

You shrug, “It was implied.”

“It was implied.” He mocks

You smile at his childish behavior, “You’re a pretty crier.”

He gives you a quick peck on the lips, “Thank you but there’s no need to lie.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re so funny, Edwards.”

He gives you a smug look, “I know it’s one of my best traits.”

He looks at his watch, and you can see the time, it is nearly five.

He sighs, “I have to get going.”

“Take me with you.” You tell him

“I would if I could, baby.” He replies

You pull him into a tight hug, holding back tears, “Kiss me one last time before you go.”

His lips were so soft, so sweet, his touch was everything to you. Your body trembles, and your eyes begin to water over.

“I'm not sure what I’m going do without you.” you whisper

He leans in, kissing you softly, gently, before pulling away to look at you. You looked so beautiful. So beautiful yet so fragile.

[billys-pretty-babe]

Would It Be Better

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Billy's girlfriend struggles a lot with her mental health and he feels like he can't do anything for her but just hold her and tell her she'll be okay.

Warnings : Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, mentions of past self-harm (cutting), brief mention of a failed suicide attempt (overdose), Billy cries a little, swearing, angst, fluff at the end

Word count : 838 words

A/N : This piece is dealing with many heavy topics that I have been dealing with for the past nearly four months. Please, please, please read the warnings because many of them are triggering and I will completely understand if you skip this. Don't be afraid to reach out if you need help. OOC!Billy.

He didn't know what to do. His heart raced, his brain pounded against his skull, his palms began to sweat. He heard the comment she made today in class, she whispered it under her breath but still he heard it.

"Maybe it would be better if I just left forever."

Now he sat in her room, her face looked lifeless, her eyes lost all light and it pained him, he swore his heart was going to stop. "Baby," he quietly said, "I want to help you but you gotta tell me what's going on." She sniffled and wiped her face, her hands covered by the red lifeguard hoodie that she adorned, the red lifeguard hoodie that she stole from him months prior during the summer, claiming he didn't need it.

"B, it's too hot for a hoodie. You don't need it right now."

His closet never saw the hoodie again. the hanger now had no purpose, just like how his girlfriend felt, purposeless, hopeless, worthless. "It h-hurts," she stuttered out, her breath trying not to catch in her throat. "What hurts, baby? Can you tell me?" She patted her chest twice and he wasn't sure if it was because she was crying or if an anxiety attack was going to start.

Billy moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of her bed and she reached for his hand and he let her take it as she squeezed it tightly, trying to reassure herself that he was indeed there with her. "Are you getting bad again," he softly asked and she nodded, not wanting to break down in front of him, she had to be strong, she had to be.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She shrugged, her breath choppy as she tried to inhale. "Didn't want to bu-burden you." He shook his head, "No, there's another reason, tell me what it is." She shook her head, her hands fidgeting and Billy caught it. "Are you cutting again?" She shook her head, "No."

"Can I see?" She nodded, putting her arms out and Billy rolled the sleeves up, her arms clean besides the fading scars that she made months ago, when he first found out about her depression. He fixed the sleeves, kissing her hands gently as he held them. "Tell me what's going on. I'm not gonna get upset, okay? It's not good to keep your stuff bottled up." She nodded and breathed, trying to calm herself down.

"I wanna die," she softly said, trying to make her voice soft enough that he wouldn't hear it but he did and his heart stopped and his stomach dropped. The same feeling he gets on rollercoasters and he hates rollercoasters, seen final destination too many times. "I feel so worthless and so useless, like I shouldn't be here." Billy squeezed her hand, letting her talk. "When did you start thinking like this?" She shrugged, "Last night."

Billy nodded, "Did you plan on," he had to stop himself, his throat was tightening at the thought of burying his girlfriend and he cleared his throat, "did you plan on doing it?" Seconds went by and no response, "I don't know," her voice was weak, ready to give up. "It's just too much, Billy and I don't know if I can keep going." Billy bit his lip, trying not to cry, he couldn't cry in front of her now.

"And I love you, I love you so much, B but it just hurts so fucking badly," she was breaking in front of him, everything crumbling before him. "Do you remember what I told you after you tried to take those pills?" She nodded, not looking at him before speaking, "You go, I go." Billy nodded, "Exactly because goddamnit, I can't fucking do this without you. I know it's hard but baby, I'm here, okay?"

He paused for a moment, his vision blurred with his tears as a few fell onto their connected hands. "I know it's hard to talk about this stuff but I'm not going to bury my fucking girlfriend all because I couldn't save her, do you understand?" She nodded and fell into his chest, her body shaking as she cried and Billy held her tightly because now he knew that she could slip through his grasp.

"I love you and I need you here with me. We can get you help but you have to be honest, you can't sugarcoat like you usually do." She nodded against his chest and Billy kissed the top of her head, holding her head tightly to his chest so she could listen to his heartbeat, how it beats for her. He rubbed her back with his other hand, letting her cry against him as he put his head on hers and cried with her.

They held each other tightly, too afraid to let go of each other but they knew she would get the help she needed and Billy knew that everything would be okay, whenever she decided that it would be okay.