#I knew that I wasn't as good then but I also knew that if I kept walking I'll eventually get to my goal and beyond

[inkedinshadows]

First of all congratulations for 1000 followers 🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉 it’s honestly amazing and you deserve all the best❤️❤️❤️ also happy new year 🎆🎆🎆 secondly, all the prompts are super good it, I had such a hard time choosing from them cause they that are all amazing, anyway I think 19, 20 and 21 just fit together perfectly for an angsty Azriel fic.

Broken Vows

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

A/N: thank you so much anon, you're the sweetest! <33 And happy new year one month too late oopsie 🤭

Prompts: "I trusted you." + "Don't leave me now. Please. I still need you." + "Baby, please, just look at me."

Warnings: Az is not the best partner here (I promise he didn't cheat)

Word count: 1.3k

It must be a dream. A nightmare.

Whatever was happening, it wasn't real. It couldn't be. You refused to believe it.

Azriel was still talking, but you weren't listening anymore. His words blurred together in your mind, yet his first few sentences remained sharp, playing over and over in your head.

I've found my mate.

You had never been the jealous type, so it hadn't bothered you when he began spending more and more time with Madja’s new apprentice. It had started as small talk after her visits and you usually lingered too. Talya seemed nice enough—quiet and reserved yet friendly.

You hadn't questioned it when Azriel started visiting the apothecary for even the slightest headache. But then those visits became too frequent. He went there even when both of you felt perfectly fine.

You should have realized something was off when Azriel became distant. The signs had been there. You had just been too blind to see them.

But the problem wasn't that he had found his mate, was it?

I want to be with her.

A few simple words, and the whole world collapsed around you.

“Baby, please, just look at me.” His voice finally cut through your thoughts. “I know this is hard to hear, but let me—”

“You promised,” you interrupted him. Your eyes met his from where he sat at the other end of the couch.

“Baby…” he began, but you cut him off again.

“You promised,” you repeated, your voice rising as tears pricked your eyes. “You promised!”

Guilt flashed across Azriel's face, and he at least had the decency to remain silent as you pressed on.

“You said you'd reject your mate for me, Az,” you blurted out. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks, but you barely noticed. “It was in your wedding vows, for gods’ sake!”

Azriel shook his head. “It's not that simple. I don't—”

“Isn't it?” you interrupted again. “Because it seems simple enough to me. You just reject the bond, like I did.”

His expression immediately hardened. “I don't want to reject the bond. If you would only let—”

“Why wouldn't you want to reject it?” you demanded.

“Because she's my mate!”

“And I'm your wife!”

For a moment, you just glared at each other. His shadows swarmed nervously around his wings, but then his shoulders slumped and his expression softened slightly.

“Can you let me explain?” he asked, studying you. “Please.”

With a sigh, you wiped your cheeks before crossing your arms over your chest. You simply looked at him, waiting.

“I don't want to lose you, baby,” he said softly.

“I don't see how that is going—”

Azriel stopped you mid-sentence. “Let me finish? Please?”

You rolled your eyes but gestured for him to continue. Listening to him was the last thing you wanted right now, but maybe he was going to surprise you. Maybe he was going to say it was all just a joke, a prank, and you'd be mad, but it would be fine.

You were grasping at straws, and you knew it.

“I still want to be with you,” Azriel said. He shot you a sharp look when you opened your mouth, and you sank back against the couch to let him continue. “But I also want to explore this bond with her.”

You scoffed. “So what? You think you can have both of us?” You shook your head, something vicious twisting in your gut. “That's not going to work, Azriel.”

You rose from your seat to head upstairs. You needed time to think, to figure out what to do. If you stayed, you would only get angrier. You had already cried and had no desire to do it again. But if you left, maybe you could spare yourself the fury.

Though the pain—the ache in your heart—could not be avoided, no matter what you did.

“Talya said that she understands the situation and she'd be willing to—”

You froze on the spot. Azriel must have realized he'd said the wrong thing because he didn't finish the sentence. His eyes dropped to your clenched fists as you turned back to face him.

Your restraint was gone. You wouldn't hold back now.

“You talked to her before you talked to me?” you seethed.

“Well, I…” Azriel seemed to be grasping for words. “She's my mate,” he repeated, as if that was explanation enough.

“And I'm your wife!” You threw your hands up. “I have been for the last two centuries!”

“I'm sorry, baby, but I—”

“Don't you ‘baby’ me, Azriel!”

He lowered his gaze, but you were too upset to care about the hurt look in his eyes. It was nowhere close to the heartache he was causing you.

“You know why I never worried about you finding your mate?” you asked. He looked up at you, but even if he had planned on saying something, you didn't give him time. “Because you promised you'd choose me. You promised you would reject the bond. And I believed it, believed you. I trusted you.”

You were well aware of what rejecting a mating bond felt like, how difficult it could be to deal with. Even without feelings involved, even knowing that you and your mate wouldn't have been a good match, it had still taken you two weeks to feel whole again. But Azriel had been there, filling the empty spot where your bond had been with his love.

You had never regretted your choice. You never had a reason to.

“And now I find out that not only did you spend time with her knowing she was your mate,” you went on, “but that you also want to be with her?”

Azriel’s voice was firm, edged with frustration. “I told you I want to be with you too, didn’t I?”

“Mother above, Azriel,” you snapped. “You think that makes me feel better? I trusted you, but you didn't even try.”

You had fought before. After two hundred years together, arguments were inevitable. But you usually talked it out and reconciled after a few hours—a day at worst. Maybe that was why Azriel didn't look particularly concerned.

Until you slipped the wedding band off your finger and tossed it onto the couch beside him.

His eyes widened in shock, and his usually restless shadows stilled behind him. You both stared at the ring, the silence stretching as your anger faded, leaving behind only a broken heart.

“You can't have your cake and eat it too, Az,” you finally said, your voice calmer now, resigned.

You turned on your heel again.

“I'm leaving,” you announced, already walking toward the stairs. You could go stay with your parents. They would welcome you without pressing for an explanation.

Azriel snapped out of his stupor and stood, reaching for you.

“Don’t leave me now. Please. I still need you.” His fingers closed around your wrist. “I still love you.”

You yanked your arm free, but didn't turn to face him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you bit out, “You should have loved me enough not to pursue your mate. You promised.”

He tried to stop you again, his shadows swirling around your legs as if to keep you from walking away from their master.

“Baby, that's not—”

You turned back one last time. Tears lined your eyes and your voice broke on the words. “I should have been enough, Azriel.”

You didn't wait to hear his response. You didn't try to go upstairs to pack some clothes.

Unable to stomach his presence any longer, you winnowed away.

a/n: technically, this is the end. I wanted to leave it open and hanging, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that I am a sucker for happy endings so I might write a part 2 bc I already have an idea :))

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[dreamingdormouse]

Back when Mr. Dormouse was in the Navy, he was for a couple years assigned to Pearl Harbor, as a nuclear mechanic on the submarine engines. (My husband is one of the most brilliant people I know, by the way, that's a very difficult job to get. But also it's hard work, long hours, lots of stress, and not very good pay.)

Shortly before I arrived to join him, his gross-motor twitches became more pronounced. They'd started when he was in training, and gotten stronger over time. He would be thinking about something or working on something, and abruptly his arm would flail out to the side, or his leg would kick like you'd found the right spot to tap with the little reflex hammer.

This was not as dangerous as Gallus's Dad without his glasses and with a gun, but still rather hazardous, as Mr. Dormouse quite often had a wrench in his hand, which was wont to go flying if his arm jerked!

His coworkers teased him about it in the friendly/mean way that is common in the military. He began the process of getting it checked out - the military, for all its flaws, has/had an amazing health care system.

The docs on base ended up deciding that

1) It's not Tourette's (which can manifest physically as well as the more well-known version of accidental cussing)

2) It's very similar, though, but, uh... not actually any of the things in our textbook?

3) Stress makes it worse

4) Sorry, Chief Petty Officer Dormouse, there's nothing else we can do for you

5) But you really shouldn't be in the military anymore

Well that was helpful.

Worse, commanding officers didn't care. Wouldn't hear of discharging him early. On the plus side, the submarine he was assigned to was in drydock for a year or more of preventative maintenance (if it was a car, it would've had an oil change, tires rotated, rust inspection, emissions test, the works), so at least he wasn't underwater like that, on multi-week trips, in a crowded environment 24/7.

The other engineer/mechanics around him knew he wanted to get a medical discharge. They began to joke that they should assign him to stand close to the officers, carrying a knife. Not in a threatening manner, oh no! Just as a tool. It wouldn't be anyone's fault if he just... twitched. And maybe then the officers would get the idea that this guy shouldn't be in the military?

Eventually somebody with some ability to sign papers decided to do so, and Mr. Dormouse was assigned to the equivalent of garden duty - a stint in the quartermaster's office. It took another 6-9 months before he got his discharge, because there wasn't a form for "IDK, I think it's Tourette's-adjacent, should we do another brain scan?" like there is for myopia or a heart murmur.

But at last he got out of the Navy and went to college for nuclear engineering, and it's been more than a decade. Not being in the military took away a lot of the stress, so these days he barely twitches at all. Sometimes it just looks like a full body shiver, and it happens a lot less frequently.

He does tell me that it is quite traditional to get stuck with the pin when a medal is being awarded, so it's possible that Captain Redacted lightly stabbed Gallus's Dad on purpose and as per custom. But it also might've been the whiskey. 🥴

The Hummingbird

The Story of my Father’s Very Brief military career.

Content Warnings: Military, guns, hummingbirds, Profanity, Lots of Profanity, spectacular incompotence, catholicism mention, alcohol mention.

As usual, all names have been changed or redacted to protect people’s privacy.

In the fall of 1969, my Dad was hit by a car and suffered a serious concussion, causing him to miss midterms and put his grade in a hole he wouldn’t be able to recover from, as this was the days before a lot of professorial accountability.  Like a sensible person, he decided to Withdraw for the semester and focus on recovering and maybe take a part-time job to pay for spring tuition, because you could do that back then.

“Son,” My grandfather asked, sitting on the couch with Dad shortly after he was discharged from the hospital. “What about your college deferment? I’m worried about you getting drafted.”

“Dad,” Dad said, filling in job applications. “I’m legally blind without my glasses!  I’d be a danger to anyone around me with a gun.  Even if I get drafted there’s no way in hell I’d pass the medical exam.”

“Don’t swear in my house.” Said Grandpa, under the entirely mistaken impression that the US Military was run with any sort of competence.

Literally a week later my Dad’s draft papers came in, and he reported to his local draft board, driver’s license and doctor’s note in hand to prove He Is Legally Blind Without His Glasses, only to be waved through without so much as a sideways glance by anyone resembling a doctor.

“They must be desperate.”  My dad concluded when he got home that night to pack.

The news was devastating to the family, as both his parents had siblings to WWII.  Grandpa was ready to beg, bribe and otherwise compromise his intensely catholic morals to get Dad out, and Grandma prayed to any available saint that would save her son from the fate of her brothers.  She had quite the collection of saints in her sewing room, some forty figurines and dozens more candles and images, along with some stained glass she’d made herself of saints, landscapes and animals, including a large hummingbird that lived on the sewing room window since they’d moved into the house.

Dad pleaded with them to not do anything they’d regret, and returned to the base for basic training.

Dad’s drill sergeant was a man whose real name was “Ross” but insisted on being called “Bulldog” or “SIR!” by everyone depending on rank.  Dad supposed this might have been a defense mechanism as Bulldog had an intensely jowled and acne-scarred face that did greatly resemble a fighting dog well past their prime.  The image was not helped by the fact that he was constantly smoking rose-flavored tobacco in a pipe that had seen better centuries, and consequently smelled like a terrible combination of trailer park and the women’s perfume counter at Macy’s.

Bulldog was also… not great about following protocol, which is a terrible failing in a Drill sergeant, but Dad supposed at that point in the war Bulldog had become horribly depressed by the sheer numbers of young men he was sending to their deaths and had kind of stopped giving a fuck about their safety and his own.

Which lead to an incident about three weeks into Dad’s training camp when in the middle of a Weapons Qualification lesson, Bulldog pulled Dad’s glasses off and bellowed “YOU WON’T HAVE THOSE COKE BOTTLES WHEN THOSE [incorrect slurs, because there’s no such thing as an informed bigot] BLAST YOUR ASS TO KINGDOM COME.” before stomping off to go change the paper targets, leaving Dad standing there with an M-1, squinting in what he hoped was the general direction of the targets.

To give you an idea of HOW bad my dad’s vision is, I once asked him at what distance things got blurry, and he responded by taking off his glasses, putting his hand up to his face, and slowly moving it back.  He stopped about eight inches from his face and nodded.  

“So I can see my hand from here but I can’t distinguish my fingers.  I think that green blob over there is your mother.”

“I’m in the living room.” called mom. “You’re looking at the blender.”

So it should come as no surprise that as soon as Dad heard someone shouting “Ready! Aim! Fire!” He did precisely that.

Hummingbirds are often mistakenly characterized as Delicate Little Rainbows that are a gift Direct from Heaven when the truth is they’re really Vicious Little Bastards thrown out of Hell for being too Nasty.  

You would be too if you could eat nothing but frappuccinos and the occasional chicken nugget, everything around you was at least the size of a pickup truck and regarded you as a tasty snack, and you were forced to defend your fridge from not only equally vicious rivals but goddamn insects that are bigger than you are.  

Being a hummingbird is awful under normal circumstances, and now there are maniacs with loud machines and projecties as big as you are stomping around and yelling and well-

At that exact moment, one of the nesting hummingbirds, having grown progressively more exasperated with the activity on the base, dive-bombed my father, hurling it’s tiny body directly into his ear and slicing the lobe up, and making him jerk slightly as he fired.

He missed Sergeant Bulldog by mere inches. Dad still isn’t sure if the Hummingbird caused him to miss or put him closer to accidental manslaughter, but it mattered little as Bulldog grabbed him by the head, shrieking in spittle-flying fury-

“ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?”  He roared.

“YES!!” screamed my father, also hysterical. “SIR THAT’S WHAT THOSE ‘COKE BOTTLES’ ARE FOR SIR!”

Bulldog stopped, suddenly and uncomfortably confronted with the nature of causality.  He only let it stymie him for a moment.  “GET YOUR IDIOT ASS TO THE MEDIC, I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!”

At the medical center, an extremely befuddled doctor dilated Dad’s eyes, took pictures because Dad had the worst case of myopia he’d ever seen and wanted to put him in a medical journal, and asked him:

“What the HELL are you doing here?”

“Very nearly shooting people sir.”

“Well, we can’t have you shooting people while you’re in the army!  I’ll get your medical discharge started.”

Dad decided not to comment on that statement, thanked the doctor, and wandered blindly back to his bunk.

It took them a full thirty days to process Dad’s discharge, perhaps largely due to the fact that actually FINDING the captain was a task for hercules- The man had an almost phobic aversion to his office and a tremendous love of whiskey so actually locating the man and early enough in the day that he was still sober enough to sign anything was a race against time and a battle against the wits of a man determined to get out of work, which is when humanity is at its peak intelligence.

In the meantime, it simply wouldn’t do to let dad bike the five miles back to his home and come back for the paperwork, nor let him sit quietly and not accidentally maim anyone, so he was put on garden duty.  

Supervised by recently-suspended-from-instruction Sergeant “Bulldog” Ross.

By the second day Bulldog had mostly run out of steam, perhaps out of a sense of really, whose fault was that? So He would mostly stand in Dad’s general vicinity, waxing philosophical on the nature of war, government and whatever else he could be crotchety about that day while continuously smoking his rose-flavored tobacco in his pipe.  Dad planted a frankly absurd number of flowers, trying to make a planted display that would spell out the name of the base in eight-foot letters, just in case someone has managed to miss all 824,594,359 signs beforehand.

On day five, perhaps attracted by the bright colors or the stench of artificial rose, the Hummingbirds found the new garden.

At first, it was timid little trips to the edge farthest from Dad and Bulldog, testing this new territory for both risk and bounty, but upon finding it full of sugary goodness, they became bold, getting closer and closer to Dad, zipping in as soon as he got up to get the next flat of flowers, then not waiting for him to finish planting them before they were up in his face, squeaking angrily for him to get out of the way of their lunch.

One male objected to Dad and Bulldog’s presence particularly strongly, dive-bombing and buzzing angrily at them, an ounce and a half of glittery impotent rage.  After a month, he’d gotten quite aggressive, and one day flew directly up to Bulldog’s face to chitter curses at him eye-to-eye, only for Bulldog to take out his pipe and blow a cloud of smoke at him, laughing as the bird tumbled over backwards in midair.

Agitated with the sudden noxious cloud, or perhaps merely a violent psychopath in its own right, the bird flew back, then straight up into the air for a good fifty feet before going into a dive, aimed directly at Bulldog’s face.

Dad doesn’t recall actually moving, only a sense that he ought to do something, and launched himself out of the dirt, arms outstretched to clap and force it off course-

“SHIT! What the hell was that for?”  Demanded Bulldog.

“Well, the hummingbird looked like it was going to attack you, Sir.  So I stopped it.”

“How noble.  What are you standing there like an idiot for?”

“…I think I caught it sir.”  Said Dad, staring at the tiny bill poking out from between his gloves.  The two of them leaned in close as dad very slowly opened his gloves and peered inside.

The hummingbird immediately forced it’s tiny head out to peep furious profanities at them both.

“How is it,”  Bulldog wondered aloud as the hummer continued to curse the both of them for the next seven generations. “That you can’t see to hit the broad side of a barn but can pull a shitty little bird right out of the air?”

“I’m wearing my glasses, Sir.”

Bulldog looked up at him, glaring with such intensity his face ceased to be a face at all and transformed into a dali-esque collection of wrinkles.

“Fuck you. Now go take that damn thing to the other side of the base so it doesn’t come back.”

“Yes sir.”  Dad nodded, nearly saluting out of reflex before remembering that he was holding a live and very angry bird.  It took him several hours to get to the other side of the base, with literally everyone stopping to ask him what the hell he was doing, well I have this bird sir and I was told to release it on the other side of the base- how in hell did your blind ass catch a hummingbird, well I had my glasses on- Fuck you, go ditch that thing already.

At three o'clock on the dot the very next morning, two MPs woke up my dad and told him he needed to report to the front office right away, no time to get dressed, right away right now.

They marched him directly to the main office, barefoot and in his Pajamas to be greeted by not only Sergeant “Bulldog” ross, but nearly every officer on the base, including the lieutenant and the Captain, all of whom were… attempting to stand at attention with varying degrees of success, most weaving slightly, some snorting with poorly-concealed laughter, and the entire room reeking of booze.

“GENTLEMEN!”  hiccuped the lieutenant, before shaking himself and continuing, “WE ARE GATHERED HERE TODAY TO HONOR OUR ‘COMRADE’ -snort, giggle- IN ARMS -louder derisive laughter- FOR HIS BRAVERY AND SERVICE IN THE FACE OF EXTREME DANGER-”

“IN THE BEAK OF EXTREME DANGER!” Howled one of the assembled officers.  

“-AND FOR HIS SERVICE IN DEFENDING AN OFFICER OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY.  I AM ~SO~ PLEASED THAT WE HAVE CAPTAIN [REDACTED] HERE WITH US TO PRESENT THIS MEDAL.”

He turned to the Captain, who took out a small box and motioned Dad forward.  Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a chocolate box from See’s Candies.

“[REDACTED], in honor of your brave and frankly improbable service in the defense of Euge- sorry, Sergeant Ross, and the capture of a dangerous wild animal, we award you this medal-  The Flying Purple Bastard.”

He opened the chocolate box to reveal this*:

(Image Description: A piece of cardboard cut out approximately in the silhouette of a hummingbird, by someone with only a passing familiarity with what hummingbirds look like.  The cardboard has been haphazardly covered in tinfoil and cartoon eyes drawn on.  It’s attached to a scrap of ribbon and a safety Pin.)

Which was then pinned crookedly to Dad’s nightshirt, after accidentally stabbing him a bit, saluted him as someone attempted to play the bugle but made a rather melodious farting noise instead, then slapped Dad in the face with a manilla folder full of papers and shouted. “DISMISSED!”

“Dismissed, sir?”

“Those are your discharge papers.” Said Bulldog. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, Sir!”

At which point Dad biked home in the rain, and thus ends my father’s military career.

*Pictured here is actually The Flying Purple Bastard 2.0, as the original was destroyed when partially eaten and fully regurgitated by one of the cats.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Paypal, as due to health concerns, telling funny stories on the internet is my ONLY means of income.  Thank you!

[etherealrin]

⋆.˚ call it what you want

in which proplayer!sae could care less about what the media was calling you two, if it means being with you again

warnings: none // wc: 647

note: fem reader! badly proofread

the star midfielder of re al, itoshi sae, has a spotless reputation. there wasn't a single stain on his image, not one rumor or dating scandal. it was a matter of heated debate online; there were multiple twitter threads regarding sae's love life. was he truly single? perhaps not into women at all? did he have a secret relationship with another celebrity? if he did, he was remarkably good at never being caught.

so when a photograph of sae leading a girl to a secluded room, shot at an angle where one could only see a flash of glimmering hair, goes viral, the entire internet was wholly appalled.

sae scoffs as you read another article from your phone's news feed to him. "hey, look at this!" your tone is joking as you point towards the device's screen. "they're questioning if i'm some top hollywood celeb. is it because i dyed my hair recently?"

"love, that's stupid. you know dispatch reports more lies than truths." he replies, nose wrinkling at the thought. sure, you were beautiful, more so than any actress, but he really didn't enjoy all of the media speculation he received. was it so wrong of him to want something normal, to have a private relationship?

you'd known sae since before he went to spain, when you were just two simple kids trying to go through life the right way. when he had left, it'd caused a huge buzz in your town, japan finally receiving international attention for football. and you'd long since been regarded as sae's closest friend, so everyone was clamoring to ask you: would he ever come back? the drama queens threw their fits (sae had no shortage of admirers even then), many people called you a liar when you said that you didn't know, the pressure caused you to isolate yourself—done with how nosy the world was being. and of course, you missed sae more than anything. you'd mindlessly twist your fingers through the silver necklace he gifted you right before his flight, the 冴 character shining in the pale moonlight. no one else knew the words he'd suddenly whispered into your ears before he boarded without sparing a glance back; "i love you, i'll swear i'll see you again."

you'd kept that necklace for years, until itoshi sae appeared in japan once more, to play for a mysterious soccer match; and a front row ticket was mysteriously sent to your email. which you had never changed from before he left. nervous anticipation floods you, you were about to see your best friend who you hadn't heard from in years. when you finally spot him on the field, he looked nothing less than a daydream, dark pink locks impossibly perfect even against the wind and sweat. as he's being introduced, sae's gaze somehow found you amongst the crowd—you might have died. though he knew you would show up, he couldn't help but look for extra assurance. and you couldn't have predicted the whirl of events that happened after. his manager pulling you aside, saying that "itoshi sae needs to meet you," sae walking towards you with his head down, evidently trying to avoid the paparazzi, grabbing your hands and guiding you into an empty interviewing room; teal eyes glimmering with unsaid words.

your lips inevitably crashed into each other, you both had heard the cameras click and seen the flash of brilliant white, but none of you cared. "at least i did one thing right," is what sae had murmured after a few minutes, deft fingers tracing across your cheeks. his eyes flickered over the chain he gave you, one you'd never taken off. the media could call it what they wanted, because in that moment it was only you and sae. though perhaps it had always been that way—all it took was for one of you to see it.

a/n: dude i'm so obsessed w this song rn. also i finally stopped slandering sae who would've thought this day would come so soon!

masterlist.

[sensitivepluto]

On the Down-low

Short & Sweet - Day 3: Secret Meeting

Touya Todoroki x Gn!Reader

[TW]: injury & care, cursing, pet names, Touya Todoroki in general

This is @thewritingstar's prompt list - here's the link to the post!

After those texts you'd rushed to his place immediately, your first aid kit in hand. As annoyed as he made you, the wound he shared with you didn't look good. You'd never admit it to him, but his dangerous lifestyle often had you lying awake at night with worry.

When you finally made your way up the fire escape to his window, you rapped your knuckles against the cold glass. And then after a few moments you did it again...and again. Why wasn't he answering? Did he pass out? Maybe you should go around to the-

You watched as a shirtless Touya stumbled to the window and opened it haphazardly for you. By the time you'd wiggled yourself in he was already collapsed face down on his old creaky bed.

"Touya..." you sighed, unhappy that he'd gotten himself injured again.

"I don't want to hear another lecture, doll. Can you help or no?" He grumbled. "Also stop calling me that. It's Dabi now and you know it."

A disapproving hum left your lips and you joined him on the bed. Of course you knew what he was doing was all a means to an end, but it didn't mean you approved of it. Especially since all he was doing was injuring himself.

Trying not to waste anymore time, you took a look at his back. The gash was worse than the picture he sent you told. A deep gash spread across his back, starting at the shoulder and cutting diagonally to his hip. You lightly touched at either sides of the wound, inspecting the inflamed skin. It definitely needed stitching

No words were shared between the two of you for quite some time. You unpacked your first aid kit for alcohol and cotton rounds. The kit wasn't much, but it was what you had. You soaked the pad in alcohol before positioning yourself over Dabi.

"This is going to sting." You warned before delicately running the pad over his back. The man hissed in pain, causing you to hesitate. You worked as fast as you could, cleaning the wound and prepping it to be closed.

"Jesus fuck..." He growled. It made your heart ache to watch him in pain, but it needed to be done. You reached over to his bedside table, grabbing his stapler and a row of staples. If you weren't so engrossed in your task, maybe you would have noticed Dabi staring you down. Most of his face tucked into his arm. His eyes were half-lidded as he watched you prep his stapler, your faced scrunched in focus.

"Okay, are you ready for the staples?" You asked, finally catching his eyes with your own. He held your gaze for a moment before looking off lazily.

"Go for it, doll." You nodded and adjusted yourself back over him, steadying yourself. Of course you'd helped him with his staples in the past, but no matter how many times you did it left you uneasy. Nonetheless you took a deep breath and started.

Click...one...Click...two...Click...three.

Twenty. It took twenty staples to finally close the wound. You were amazed that Dabi took it without a word. Maybe a hiss or a grunt in tender areas, but otherwise completely silent.

A thought overtook your brain while you cleaned up your mess. The many cotton pads littering the bed, as well as searching for a gauze wrap for Dabi - of course you never found one. All the while, his gaze studied you.

"So why was it you wanted me to sneak in again?" You questioned, your back turned to him. The thought on your mind finally in the open. He rolled his eyes at the question.

"Didn't want to get the league involved." He posed. You turned to look at him with question in your eyes.

"What do you mean 'get them involved?' They've seen you injured before, no?" The man grunted and pushed himself up to sit on the bed.

"Doesn't matter..." He trailed off, not making eye contact with you. You thought for a moment and rounded the bed, coming closer to him.

"Unless..." You teased. "You simply just wanted me to take care of you." The statement sat in the air between you. He looked at you with those lazy, piercing blue eyes. "Am I right?" You pressed.

Dabi rolled his eyes once more. "Don't test me, sweetheart." He warned. You feigned offense.

"Oh no? I guess I'll just leave you alone then. Go on home." You turned to leave dramatically, but his hand caught your wrist in an instant. Dabi pulled you in so you were face to face with him.

"You are not going anywhere tonight, doll." A dangerous smirk pulled on his lips. And you smiled at the implication. It was going to be a long night.

[erysser]

THANOS [PLAYER 230] WITH AN ANOREXIC PARTNER

-> pairings : choi su bong [Thanos] x reader

-> a/n : thank you so much for the request @vennxu ! I'm not that knowledgeable about eating disorders so I hope I did this justice

-> | thanos - 🎤 |

Thanos is definitely oblivious at first

He chalks up your lack of eating and frequent runs to the bathroom to nerves.

You were all in a life or death situation, so it was only natural to not have an appetite or to have to relieve yourself a lot!

Yet, he started to get suspicious after the second game after Se-mi and Nam-gyu mentioned it to him

It was dinner time and Thanos noticed that you weren't eating a lot, giving more than half your portion to Min-su

"Hey, aren't you hungry, senorita? You keep giving your portions of food to Min-su! You need to eat more if we're going to win that money!" - 🎤

You smiled politely at him, saying thay you just weren't hungry after witnessing all that death

He just frowns, asking Min-su to give back the portion of food he had received from you.

He was practically watching you like a hawk as you ate, his eyes never leaving you until you finished your portion.

His grin was so wide when he saw your empty food box.

"See! There you are finishing all the food! The food's good right? With you on full energy, we'll 100% win the next game!" - 🎤

You sorta laugh awkwardly at him, unsure of what to say.

Thanos could sense something was wrong but he continued to smile as you reassured him that everything was fine.

Usually during lights out, you would head to the bathroom to purge out everything you had eaten for the day.

It was quiet, and empty. No one would've suspected anything.

So, as usual, you quickly slept out of bed, walking quietly towards the door to do your nightly ritual.

You barely even noticed the purple-haired man that watched and stalked you all the way to the toilet.

He noticed you had been doing that every single night.

He was a light sleeper and after vehemently deciding that he wanted to sleep next to you, he started to noticed your nightly bathroom runs.

He waited outside the bathroom for a while, but after maybe 10 minutes pass by and you hadn't emerged, he went in.

He opened the bathroom door slowly, creeping his way in, as he tried to find you. His eyes widen at the sound and smell.

Without thinking, he rushed forwards to the source of the smell and threw the stall door open to see you hunched over the toilet, vomiting.

He immediately rushes to you, questions of are you sick, are you okay, escaping his mouth as he holds your face looking at you. You don't answer him as you look away.

His eyebrows furrow as he notices your index finger that was vomit covered. Were you purposely trying to make yourself vomit?

It all clicked in his head.

He wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't used to comforting or even helping people so he just sat there with you on the bathroom floor, holding you as he whispered praises and compliments in your ear hoping to let your insecurities subside and let the truth prevail.

After that incident, he always tries to make you feel comfortable.

Having been in the music industry, he knows some popstars do what you do to stay skinny and he knew that they needed patience and time.

He wouldn't force you to eat but he'd definitely encourage you a lot!

He immediately tells off anyone who talks bad about your body and sings praises and compliments to you.

He also definitely moved from sleeping in the bed next to you to sleeping in your bed.

At night, he holds you tightly, so tightly that he knows you won't be able to go to the bathroom at night.

Even if you want to, he'll either go or force Se-mi awake to accompany you because "it's not safe to be here alone"

Either way, Thanos is definitely a bit clueless about what to do but he tries his best, and if he wins, he plans to segregate a bit of the prize money to get you some help.

[elprupneerg]

at risk of doxxing myself: i went there! yes, the high schools are conjoined twins.

most of the building is symmetrical along an invisible line (with the auditorium, music area, and gyms being weird growths that ruin the symmetry, its fine). anything on the east half of the invisible line was East high, anything on the west half was West high. which school a teacher was officially employed by depended on which half of that dividing line their classroom was on. so my French teacher had her paychecks officially come from East while my German teacher had his paychecks officially come from West. i still took classes on both sides of the school even though i officially only attended one of them.

there were technically separate departments for math, English, science, and social studies classes, but they ultimately followed the same school district rules and tried to mostly keep education the same between both schools. my freshman biology class was in West, so my class dissected fetal pigs, while the freshman biology classes in East that year dissected rats iirc (might've been frogs? it wasn't pigs though). but we both did our dissection unit at the same time of year after having learned from the same textbooks and having done roughly equivalent homework.

school pride was always a weird thing. people seemed to expect us to be more invested, but its a bit hard to see the kids from the other team as "the enemy" when you're in the same theater program. especially since half our clubs and teams were combined anyway. there were separate teams for most sports since there were enough students from both schools to run 2 teams. but the anime club, gay-straight alliance, student council, school newspaper, marching band, and plenty of other clubs/activities/classes were all combined. there was still a lot of participation in school spirit week since it usually meant wearing silly costumes, but there wasn't that same sort of intense feeling people seem to have in movies. my dad still has his varsity jacket from his own high school days hanging up in his closet, and his high school yearbooks were full of little drawings of the school mascot. that wasn't really the case for anyone i knew in school.

at one point when i was in school they were talking about combining our schools again. they wanted to take the East Suns (maroon and gold) and the West Spartans (blue and white) and combine the mascots and colors into the Sunny Spartans (maroon and blue). this would've made our football team have a shot at not being in last place in our district sports tournaments (East and West regularly fight for last place), but it would've given a lot less kids a chance at actually playing. and for sports where both teams were actually genuinely good? it would've messed up people's abilities to get scholarships. similar issues around recognition of academic achievement (and also the combined mascot and color scheme being ugly) meant that they remained separate.

i've had people ask me how administration was split up between the schools. i'd love to answer, except i happened to go during a period where the superintendents kept quitting and the principals kept getting shuffled around. there were always at least 5-6 principals, but the exact number/who filled the exact role depended on who'd quit last iirc. it was a bit chaotic and i remember being very frustrated with it even as a student that didn't really have to actually deal with them.

our graduation ceremonies were separate, and Thank Fuck For That. all the ceremonies are so long already even with it being split into 2 schools. one of the valedictorians at my brother's graduation had a speech that lasted 45 minutes. there were about 200-300 students getting their names called to walk on stage. there was barely enough room in the auditorium/gym (location depended on if you were East or West) for all the guests. the air conditioning was not made for this many people to be crammed into one side of the school for this long so its also hot and sweaty as fuck. i'm trying to imagine the nightmarish hell of dealing with all of that while also having to wait for roughly 500 students to walk across the stage. and they're all wearing maroon and blue and getting called, i cannot stress this enough, the Sunny fucking Spartans, i genuinely do not know who thought that was a good idea but they need to stop having ideas. my school pride goes so far as getting called either a spartan OR a sun, Not Both.

as far as i'm aware it was otherwise basically the same as attending any other particularly large high school. there was just technically 2 of them

remembering that time i met someone who attended high school in west bend, wisconsin and they told me how their school district works. to them it was completely normal while i was wondering if they were messing with me.

their schools are conjoined twins???

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 12.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, infidelity, suggestive/implied smut, indications of a toxic relationship, very broken relationship at this point actually, lots of back and forth, also pls remember i didn't put any hard dates to things that have happened so i couldn't tell u exactly what day, time and season iseul decided to be like this 🫤, crying, yelling, a sprinkle of violence (like a push, slamming hand against the wall, throwing objects), hints of manipulation and gaslighting

—on rotation: oceans & engines - niki | blame - bryson tiller

⇢ POSTDOC | EARLY YR 3

Love does not prevail.

Love does not conquer all.

San used to think it did, but as he's been sitting in his old room at his parents' home, he's realizing that wasn't the case for him. He tries, and he tries. He tries to make himself believe that it still can conquer all, and that it still can prevail. He tries to tell himself that it wasn't him, that he did no wrong. That this was just a fucking dream he's waiting to wake up from.

He tries to believe what he has is still love.

He tries to believe he is still worthy of receiving love and being loved; of not sitting in this heartache for long.

—FLASHBACK

San is exhausted, but he's excited to be coming home a whole day earlier than planned to surprise Iseul. He caught the next flight out as soon as his commitments during the conference had wrapped up, ready to come to his wife and be in her arms. He couldn't wait to hold her, kiss her, and shower her with love especially because they had been arguing lately. It's like that was the only form of communication they knew.

All he wanted was to stop— to make up and to give her everything, to have her back and to just be.. happy.

Why were they even fighting so much?

Iseul felt distant and he wasn't sure how to bring her back. But, he'd try his damn hardest. She was his wife and he loved her so. He would never give up no matter how hard it got.

It never used to be this way.

San picks up Iseul's favorite perfume from the Duty Free and stops by a quick flower stand to grab a small bouquet of roses. He calls an Uber that comes in less than 5 minutes— San gently setting his carry-on bag in the trunk before plopping into the backseat with the roses and perfume sitting on his lap. He texts Iseul as if he hasn't returned, trying to keep the surprise under wraps as much as possible. He's trying to see what she's up to and if she ate for dinner, but she hasn't responded.

Which, again, wasn't entirely uncommon behavior from Iseul.

But, since they had been fighting and arguing so much recently, the pauses and breaks in between texts seemed to be getting longer and longer— a tiny detail he refused to look at because it would unravel the rest of the problems he had been brushing under the rug;

Problems he stuck at the back end of a book.

He texted her close to three hours ago. 

San didn't really know why Iseul was so angry with him sometimes. She argued and she would say things that made him feel like something deep within her resented him more than loved him. He's aware he's not the best with his time management, he's aware that, sometimes, he makes her feel like she comes after everything else.

He's aware.

He'll acknowledge his mistakes and short-comings, but he'll always make up for it. He isn't perfect, but he'll always try. Always.

When the cab pulls up to the house, nothing feels unusual. He feels like he sees Yunho's car parked on the side street a house down, but that wouldn't be too unusual since he's always around. But, it does feel a little weird that he would be here when San wasn't home. The two had been really close as of lately, and it felt like Yunho had gotten closer to Iseul than he had been with San.

Yet, another tiny detail he refused to look into because of all the possibilities.

They could never.

San felt so naive, but they could never.

He gets inside the house and the living room TV is still on. Kinda loud, actually. There's two wine glasses sitting on the counter, both empty with remnants of red wine pooling at the bottom. San sets his work bag down before carrying his carry-on duffle upstairs with him, along with the flowers and perfume.

Funny that they aren't down here.

He climbs up the steps, wondering if Iseul was in the room and Yunho was busy doing something else? He can't come up with anything because there isn't really anything to do up here.

They're still nowhere to be found.

He feels his heart beating out of his chest.

Because he nears their door and Iseul is making those sounds she makes when San makes love to her. Except, she's a little louder this time. Throws in some giggles. At first, San thinks he's dreaming; that there's no way she could be doing this to him right now. 

There's no way. She was his wife.

She would never.

They would never.

Then, the door creaks open from the harsh breeze that comes in through the cracked window of the room. San gets a glimpse of the bed and the sheets are different. Things feel different.

And that's because they are. 

Everything is different, and everything will be different from here on out.

If only San knew that, if only he caught on earlier.

Would've saved his ass from the heartbreak that was about to be catered to him on a silver platter.

The sounds are indeed leaving Iseul's lips, and as soon as San pushes the door open, he almost wished it could have been anybody else if this were literally the circumstances that were meant to find him. If this was going to happen either way, he really wished it was somebody else. Because why is he watching Yunho grip Iseul's hips the way he normally would when she's on top? 

Why is he looking at her the way he is— like she's everything to him, like she holds all the answers he's been looking for, like he.. loves her.

San doesn't even know what to say at first, he doesn't even process this. He just drops his things to the ground, along with Iseul's perfume and the flowers. The thud is enough to make them turn their attention towards the door, immediately pulling on the sheets when Iseul hops off of him.

They look at him in shock.

What was he doing here?

Ironic, San has the same question.

"You two actually can't be serious." He says close to a whisper, a pathetic chuckle leaving his lips because what in the actual hell is going on? "You can't be serious." He repeats, but this time, his tone is laced with disbelief, confusion. Anger. "You can't be serious!" His tone rises.

"W-why are you here? I-I thought you weren't coming home for another day."

"Oh, so that's how you'd be filling in your time while I'm away?" He scoffs angrily. "I should've known, I should've fucking known!" He's yelling now, and he hasn't yelled like this ever. "You couldn't even save me from all this fucking mess?!" He aggressively runs his hand down his face, hands placed on his hips as he paces around. Not even sure where the fuck to look while Yunho and Iseul are scrambling to get themselves together and out of the damn bed.

The damn bed he shares with his wife.

"San— I can—" 

"What the fuck can you explain?!" He grabs the closest thing to him, which happens to be the tiny vase full of fresh lavender that Iseul bought recently and throws it against the wall in pure rage, frustration. "Huh?! What the fuck can you possibly explain, Iseul! Do you think I'm stupid? Do you take me as a dumbass?" He pounds his hand against the wall near the doorway.

He scares himself. 

He has never been this angry.

He has never felt himself feel so different and worked up, almost borderline toxic, in a relationship. It feels so wrong, it feels so unhealthy. Unlike him.

"How long?" He mutters.

"It was just—"

"How long!" He yells again, and it startles Iseul and Yunho.

"A month or so." Maybe he shouldn't have asked. There's so much uncertainty in her tone, she can't even remember the exact time this all began.

It all blended.

It was a blur.

It could've been more. Feels like. Yunho gives her a look and it's obvious.

She's lying.

"I should've known. I should've known. I should've known." San keeps repeating to himself, tears are streaming down his cheeks even though he's more livid than anything.

"I'll just go—"

"No, you stay. I'll go." He almost growls lowly at Yunho.

"San—" Iseul calls for him. All of a sudden. 

"No, don't. Don't call for me because you weren't doing that before. This is it, Iseul. You don't get to call me, you don't get to ask me to do anything. You don't need me! Stick with him since that's what's been happening all along. Aren't I right? You two really deserve each other."

"San." Yunho sighs, slipping into his shirt as San is about to head out of the door. 

"We should really just talk about this—" 

"What the fuck is there to talk about?! What is wrong with the both of you, wasn't that enough of an explanation?" Yunho mistakenly places a hand on his shoulder to try and get him to turn back, but San pushes him with so much force that Yunho stumbles against the drawer and causes a frame to tumble and fall to the ground. "Don't touch me." He glares at Yunho, eyes glazed over as hot tears brim his lids. "Do not touch me ever again. I don't need any explanations, I don't need anything." He swallows the lump in his throat. "I'm done with the both of you." He slips the ring off of his finger and tosses it near the bed, letting it land on the floor as it slips down the sheets. "Have it, Iseul. Take it all. That's what you do best." He is barely able to get out. "I'll come back to grab things when you aren't around."

"San!" She cries for him, slipping on her robe to chase after him. Yunho grabs her by the wrist and tries to stop her, shaking his head as a way to tell her to let it go. She quickly eyes the roses and the perfume near the bed, causing her to snatch her wrist out of his grip. She heads down the stairs and continues to call for San even though he's already in his car and about to pull out of the garage.

She cries as she frustratingly runs her hands through her hair, unsure of how she could try to salvage her marriage.

How could she bring him back?

—END

He checks the time and realizes Iseul won't be around the house right now due to some lab dinner she's attending. He still sees her calendar linked to his and he's close to deleting it, but he needs to grab the rest of his things before he can do so. They haven't really talked about that night because she's good at playing her game. She's tried, and she's tried.

She keeps crying for him, calling for him.

She came back running right after the whole thing. Then, they fought. She ran back to Yunho. 

Came back. 

It makes him so confused and so, so tired to be dancing in circles. He might be dumb for falling for it every time, especially when things clearly haven't changed. Why does he have to fight for a spot with Yunho? 

He was her husband.

He shouldn't have to.

What else could she possibly want from him? 

He was done with this. He was tired, and he was done.

His parents aren't home either [thank god, he can't take another second of them nagging and prying], so he swipes his keys off the counter and leaves with haste. He's trying to avoid a run-in with Iseul because all he wants to do is grab his shit and leave in peace.

He doesn't even know what's gonna happen to the house, he's not even sure if he would want it should she give it up in the end. Every corner is gonna be painted with her face, even Yunho's, when it was meant to be a happy home for two people.

Them.

San sighs heavily as he makes the trek down to the house, which is kinda far but he doesn't mind the drive. It's peaceful, it's relaxing; it calms his nerves. He blasts his music through the speakers, zipping through the highway and the streets before pulling up to the garage. The house is dark and Iseul's car is nowhere to be found. He quickly slips out of the car and unlocks the door, stepping out of his shoes before climbing up the steps to the room. There are some unwashed dishes in the sink and the flowers sitting in the vase have wilted away.

The candle hasn't been replaced with a new one.

The throw blanket on the couch is falling off the edge.

When he gets upstairs, some of Iseul's drawers aren't completely shut. The closet door isn't closed. Her laundry is still unfolded and at the end of the bed they once shared. Sheets are different again, but this time, they're a dull pale baby blue. The extra sheets her mom gifted them when they had first moved in.

Since that night, Iseul hasn't placed flowers in the room. Their pictures are gone.

The shutters remain close. 

All signs of a broken and cold home.

He tries not to pay attention to the feeling settling in his stomach right now— after all, he's on a mission to grab some things and go. He throws a few things into his duffle bag, making sure to grab some extra socks and boxer briefs to last him until his next trip to the house. He's got enough clothes that he could mix and match with so he thinks he's good.

He thinks he's set, and he thinks he managed to slip by unnoticed again.

Except, he hears the front door shut when he heads down the steps. 

"San?" She asks for him softly. He slowly heads down the rest of the stairs and turns the corner to see her standing there. She doesn't look too happy, nor does she look like she's been able to sleep well recently. But, he doesn't think it's fair to put the blame on him for all of that. She did this to them. "Hey."

"I'm done grabbing clothes, I'll be out of your way—" She stops in front of him and he tries to take another step to the side, which was also unsuccessful.

"Wait, why don't you just stay? Aren't you tired of doing this?" He furrows his brows and subtly shakes his head.

"Aren't you, Iseul? I don't know what you want from me."

"San, I'm sorry." Iseul starts to cry to him, making him tear up in return. But, he can't. He's done. He doesn't wanna do this anymore. He deserves better. He's crying because he's exhausted, not because he wants her back or because he misses what he had with her. It's too much of painful memory to even reminisce about. He is just tired. "Please. I'm sorry, I just want you. I don't wanna do this anymore, I— we can fix this, can't we? We can go to counseling and fix this."

"Iseul, no." He pries her off of him, tears streaming down his cheeks. "No, we can't. There isn't anything to fix."

"Don't say that." She almost whines. "I'm sorry, San. Please just— please don't do this. I'm not gonna give this up."

"What makes you think you haven't already? No." He repeats. "You chose that night and you made your decision. You decided to start that whole thing with Yunho, and you decided to let him stay. You let me go, and I don't deserve all of this bullshit, Iseul." He places his hand out to keep his distance when she tries to grab for him once more. "Why can't you stop? Don't you see how fucked up this is?" He cries. "I don't wanna do this anymore. I'm so fucking tired. So please, no. I don't want this, please stop putting me through this." He begs. The tears continue to stain his cheeks even as he licks his lips and swallows dryly. He watches as Iseul sobs into her hands and falls to her knees on the floor, but he has nothing else to say.

Nothing left of him to give.

"San."

"I'm gonna go." He whispers, gaining the courage to step aside her and slip into his shoes, walking out as the pain burns him deep in his chest hearing Iseul continuously sob into her hands. When he plops into the driver's seat, he tosses his duffle bag off to the side and lets out a shaky sigh. He continues to cry to himself, digging his own head into his hands before he gathers himself and turns on the car. He doesn't think he should drive right now, but he just wants to go home and be in his own peace. So, he speeds off; though, the world feels like it's caving in on him.

For a second, San thought he deserved all of this. He felt so fucking sorry for himself because he thought he deserved every bit of the hurt, the betrayal, that came his way. Every time he thinks about it, it slices his wounds open all over again, and he feels sick to his stomach.

The pain burns.

His chest feels tight.

He almost feels like he can't breathe.

Because in the end, he learned the hard way.

Love does not prevail.

Love does not conquer all.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[hrtwayne]

My Girl Only Breaks Her Favorite Toys || Alexia Putellas

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Lionesses Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Where sometimes a breakup wasn't just about a lack of trust, but rather the constant breaking of promises.

Note: Chapter inspired by My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys by Taylor Swift! (English is not my first language!)

Warning: Mention of Neglect and Possible Angst!

Women's Football Masterlist | Masterlist

The silence in the apartment had never felt so deafening.

Y/n dropped her suitcase by the door, feeling the tension weigh down on her shoulders. The familiar scent of Alexia—a soft mix of lavender and something that always reminded her of home—was gone. No jackets carelessly thrown over the couch, no cleats resting by the entrance, no sign that this was still a home shared by two people.

Maybe, deep down, it wasn’t anymore.

She let out a long sigh, running her hands over her face. She had played for the English national team that night, crossed the continent to come home, only to be met with the same emptiness as always. Alexia wasn’t there. Again.

For the thousandth time, Y/n tried to convince herself that their schedules were demanding, that sometimes missing each other was inevitable. But the truth was, when something matters, you find a way. And she always had. Alexia, on the other hand, seemed less and less willing to do the same.

She opened the fridge, already knowing what she would find. Nothing fresh, nothing new. The coffee she had made before leaving was still untouched in the corner, and the water bottles Alexia always drank from were in the exact same spot. She hadn’t been home since Y/n had left.

The weight of that realization hit her all at once.

It was a story nearly two years in the making. A beautiful story of support, of genuine love. But it was also a story filled with broken promises, empty excuses, and absences that only grew more frequent.

And Y/n finally realized she didn’t want to live like this anymore.

The following days felt like a loop. Alexia came home late, left early. When they were together, silence spoke louder than words. Y/n had tried to talk, tried to make Alexia see what was happening between them, but every attempt ended in promises that never materialized.

So, on an ordinary morning, as she pulled on her training jersey, she picked up her phone and opened the email she had been avoiding for weeks.

The club that had shaped her career had made an offer. A good one. Going back home had never felt so right.

That night, when Alexia finally arrived, she found Y/n sitting on the couch, her suitcase packed beside her.

"We need to talk."

Alexia frowned, dropping her backpack to the floor before sitting down next to her.

"What’s wrong?"

Y/n took a deep breath.

"I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waiting for you to keep promises you’ll never keep."

"Y/n…"

"I love you, Alexia. But love isn’t enough when only one of us is trying."

Alexia opened her mouth to argue but closed it just as quickly. She knew. She had always known.

"You’re leaving?"

"Yes. My old team wants me back. And I want to go back."

The silence that followed was the heaviest of all.

Alexia finally let out a long sigh, shaking her head.

"I never wanted us to end like this."

Y/n smiledtired, resigned.

"Neither did I."

And deep down, they both knew there was nothing left to say.

[spiderfunkz]

RED MEANS I LOVE YOU

pairings. cho hyun-ju x gn!reader

cw. canon violence, blood, hurt to comfort.

author's note: the hyun-ju hype can't die down guys!! please send some requests but i'm begging atp for u guys to read this beforehand.

if you could describe what you were seeing for the past few days, it would be that your vision was tainted in red. no matter how much you itch, scratch, wipe, or scrub off— you're bloodied in loss.

it didn't look pretty either. the person you were before is just a mere reflection in the mirror, you wanted to get off whatever island you were on. it's torture, that's for sure, you couldn't even imagine how stupid you were for accepting the concept in the first place. it was too good to be true and you knew it— maybe you did, you're not sure anymore.

although, amongst all the wreck and violence, you were able to find one highlight of the entire experience. no, it wasn't the relief after surviving a round, and it wasn't lunch breaks either.

it was cho hyun-ju.

the tall woman who almost peered over you by a bit. she found you after the break of the first game, she seemed tense— almost afraid, at first, you wondered why she was. it doesn't matter though, she embraced you with open arms and soon a bond began to blossom.

lights out would be spent with whispers about your past and laughs about jokes that lingered far behind your mind. hyun-ju shared stories and tales about her life, your heart beats with empathy and also admiration. she was so brave, kind, intelligent, strong, and trust-worthy. you hope to get through this game with the chances of you two meeting each other again.

"where are you from, hyun-ju?" her own name sent shivers down her skin, you said it with such sincerity. "i'm from gwangmyeong, i've since moved out." her face has a slight smile to it, it seems a bit bitter, "hey, i'm near gwangmyeong! we were long, longggg neighbors!" everything you said seems to lighten her mood even more.

you brought a sense of comfort to hyun-ju, especially in a place like this. you don't know how much she really needed it. she didn't feel the usual gut-wrenching, almost stomach inducing pain she usually does when she's with someone.

though, right now, you could barely think about any of those without panicking or losing your sanity. the games took a twist, another one, if you will. player 456's or gi-hun's plan was clear enough for you to understand, it played off well at first, but now, you were scared out of your head for hyun-ju.

it was impressive to see her lead and teach the others, her combat knowledge seemed incredible, must've been the army. you watched her explain in the comfort of your bed, she didn't take any other answer when she insisted that you stay in the safety of the games dormitories. you couldn't argue with her, it was the last thing you wanted.

you didn't doubt her abilities. she is well-skilled, yet there was an aching knaw that something is wrong. you didn't want to lose her.

but when hyun-ju and the others left the room, you just sat and begged that she would come back un-injured and alive. the group of people near you were supportive, including some other allies you managed to make during the six-legged pentathlon and mingle. without them, you wouldn't be able to be where you are now.

though a small portion of you wished you were somewhere else, you know, preferably your home, but this time; there were no more unexpected knocks, no more piles of letters reminding you of your nail-biting ending (a.k.a getting evicted), and no more stress about the things you could've gotten done earlier in your life— if only you had your path straight then.

your thoughts were snapped when a fellow player went into the room in a state you knew too well. he looked afraid, he was repeating a sentence you couldn't seem to make out, however, soon it became clear what it was. people tried to approach him but you knew better, he needed to calm down and do his part, and their scolding will not help.

your heart wanted to ease down but couldn't when you saw hyun-ju ran in. she wasn't supposed to come back so quickly, it made you sigh— maybe from relief, maybe from dread.

but oh, did the amount of blood on her make you want to puke.

it's sickening, to be surrounded by it too. there are stains of people's death all around the place, you can't even sleep. you haven't been sleeping. not even hyun-ju's touch could bring you back to the slumber you've grown to miss so much.

you stood up from the bed, she was facing player 388, or dae-ho. he was the one who went in, the one who looked absolutely terrified. he was trembling.

she hugged the magazines he collected earlier and she was about to run off again. but her eyes met your glossy and almost tear-filled ones.

"don't go, hyun-ju."

"i have to."

"you're gonna get hurt. you have so much blood on your face, oh gosh," your hand held up near her cheek, it's a hesitant move, but she leans into the touch. you wipe as much as you could off, "don't go, hyun."

she looks back and took a moment to think before looking at you again, she takes a deep breath. "okay, okay. don't get teary-eyed," she smiles, "i'm here, i'll keep you safe."

"okay, then." you were inhaling and exhaling as steady as you could. it still came out shaky, you were almost hyperventilating. "let me, just wipe this off." your hands gently trace the marks on her face, wiping away all the impurities and worries off of her.

[bladeafterdark]

Reminds me of a recent time where a regular of mine has for years come in said "hey beautiful" every time I don't pass very well (not that I should have to) Because of this I knew how he perceived me and other context clues made me too afraid to correct him and then 1 day he asked about my pronoun pin I kind of explained and he just kind of nodded looked very confused and then walked out with his friends I considered this a win because I expected idk what but worse the folloiwing times he came in were unmemorable something I considered also a win

a few weeks ago he said something somtheing woman and then went "or are you a woman anymore?" now for context I have not ever presented as a woman at this job but have been too afraid to say something to him and so I said "no I'm a man" he asked abt the parts that I had which I don't love but I explained a little bit I said "yes I have those but I'm still a man" and HE SAID "yeah it's a feeling in the heart" (YEAH DUDE EXACTLY!!) and while this interaction wasn't perfect it reminds me that I don't have to be afraid all of the time like my mother told me I did and that men can be kind to each other even if we don't understand fully and I figured I would share it it was a good moment slightly a little uncomfortable but still good

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Cater Diamond - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Courtyard]

Cater: Whew～ Today's Alchemy class was a real brain wiggler. What class do I got next… Hm?

Cater: Hey… Is that you Leona-kun? Woah, that's a surprise, are you just getting out of class too?

Leona: Shut your trap already… It's got nothing to do with you, Cater.

Cater: No, no, I just wanted to give you the drop on a bit of info. Do you know what tomorrow is?

Cater: You see, it's YA BOI CAY-KUN'S BIRTHDAY ♪

Leona: Oh. Good for you.

Cater: NO REACTION!? I mean, I guess I knew that was coming～

Cater: Shoulda known it wouldn't be easy to get a warm birthday greeting from ol' Leona-kun.

Leona: What nonsense are you spouting? I just did.

Cater: What, you mean when you said "good for you"? C'mon, you just threw that out there 'cause you had to～

Cater: If you're gonna say something, you gotta put more heart into it, not just toss me a few words here and there ♪

Leona: Your birthday's tomorrow, ain't it? I couldn't possibly be rude and wish you a happy birthday the day before all your fellow housemates have a chance to…

Leona: So, bye.

[Leona leaves]

Cater: There he goes again, spouting off whatever… Well, guess I should just consider myself lucky that we got to hold a convo and he didn't just ignore me.

Cater: Alrighty, then. Looks like my next class is Animal Linguistics. I got a feeling I'm gonna get called on today, so I should prep for it.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Cater: Woah, it's that delicious!? I wanna go right away… Oh, but I don't think I'll be able to until after next month.

Cater: Yeaaah, I did terrible on the last Magical History exam～ …Saaame, I wish those tests weren't basically one bit puzzle.

Cater: And also… Oh, we're already back to our rooms. Okay, night～

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: …Whew, finally I'm back.

Cater: I wasn't able to check Magicam while I was in the shower, so I should do that now.

Cater: Oh, looks like some of my old posts are getting likes too. I'm glad people are still seeing what I posted ages ago.

Cater: There's a few comments, too… Ugh, this question is waaay too long.

Cater: Not to mention, half of what they're saying has nothing to do with their question, they're just gabbing on about themselves. Ugggh… It's gonna be a pain to respond…

Cater: But if I leave it for later, I'll want to reply even less～ Guess I should give 'em a response ASAP then.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: "Except, that eye mask was a limited-time item, so if it's already sold out, sorry." …And, send. Was that all of them?

Cater: Whew～ I finally finished responding to everything. Guess now I can go check out everyone else's posts.

[phone pings]

Cater: Huh, who's post is this on trending right… Hey, it's that one guy! I can't believe they got a cat.

Cater: "Your cat looks so soft and suuuuper cute～! Can't wait for more pictures!"

[phone pings]

Cater: Ooh, I like the picture of this guitar. I wanna try customizing like this, too.

Cater: "I can't believe you did all this yourself! I'd love to see the play-by-play of how you made it next time."

[phone pings]

Cater: What else is there…? Oh, hey, I've heard of this Magicammer before. Looks like their video giving a tour of their room is hot right now.

Cater: Woah, that's hella cute! Both the floor and wallpaper are done up so meticulously. The entire room's been designed to mesh well with everything～!

Cater: The little trinkets they have scattered around their room are also all the rage right now, so they might be a good reference to keep in mind. I'll give them a follow.

Cater: Maaan, I wish I had a cute, pastel room like this. I bet they get tons of likes.

Cater: Oh, yeah. I kinda left it 'cause I didn't really have anything to say, but… Guess I could write a suggestion here.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Cater: It's been more or less smooth-sailing ever since I got a single room, so I didn't think I'd really have any complaints…

Cater: But this place is a bit too chic for the kinds of photos I want to post on Magicam. Maybe it's more accurate to say it's cute in an old-fashioned way?

Cater: The colors in the room are more on the darker side, which makes the videos come out too dark…

Cater: And it's a pain always having to lug out my photography equipment each time. I'll just write "I want more attractive walls and floors."

Cater: Honestly, I'd love to be able to do a room tour or a day-in-the-life routine video...

Cater: But I bet there'd be a ton of trouble I could get into when it comes to everyone's privacy if I'm shooting in and around the dorm, so that'd probably be impossible while I'm still attending school.

Cater: Mmkay, then… I'm already ready for bed, so I guess I'll just go to sleep early, ready to tackle the day tomorrow.

[fwumps into bed]

Cater: What time should I set my alarm for…? Oh, there's already a reply on my comment from earlier.

Cater: I should probably respond right away since they were also quick with it, huh… Hmm…

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

[alarm rings]

Cater: Mmm… Mrrrnngh… Is it morning already…?

Cater: Yawn… What time did I even fall asleep last night?

Cater: I think I was replying to a comment I got wishing me a happy birthday right at midnight… Did I fall asleep in the middle of that?

Cater: Looks like a got a lot more comments after that, too. I need to respond… But before that, there's something else I need to do today.

Cater: Can't just laze about here! I need to go to the washroom and wash my face ASAP!

Cater: My face is washed, and I did my skin care routine… So, let's get started!

Cater: The photography lights are turned on, the reflector board is adjusted, and my phone is on the tripod…

Cater: The plushes in the background are… Good, they're settled nicely on the bed.

Cater: There's nothing in the shot that shouldn't be. Perf, time to start the video!

[phone pings]

Cater: Hey-o everyone, it's Cay-kun! Today, I'm going to show off some base makeup items that's been my go-to these days.

Cater: First up… Here's the UV primer that just came out on the first of this month! I know this has been all the rage lately.

Cater: I've been using this every day since I bought it the day it came out ♪

Cater: And you know what's the best thing about this primer…? It's got no reflective shine at all!

Cater: It's got a nice toning effect, and I think it works well with just a little bit of powder on days when you don't really need to spruce yourself up too much.

Cater: I've fallen in love with it, 'cause whenever I wanna take a pic on the fly, all I have to do is dab a little here and there with a tissue and it looks like I did myself up in proper makeup ♪

Cater: Aaand it rolls on so smoothly, too. I'll apply some now to show you what I mean, so keep your eyes on the screen!

[phone pings]

Cater: …Nice, video done.

Cater: I'll snap a few pictures in the afternoon during break and put together a comparison picture, then edit the video… I guess I'll be able to upload it the day after tomorrow.

Cater: I still have to think about some other stuff like the background music, but I should focus on finishing my makeup for now.

Cater: It's my birthday, so I think I'm leaning towards using some of my more cuter cosmetics… Oh, I know.

Cater: I found it! Here's the glitter eyeliner that I got as a part of that limited-edition holiday cosmetic set!

Cater: Both the package it came in and the glitter itself is waaaaay too cute. I'll draw the line with this, and snap a pic to see…

[snap!]

Cater: Nice, I can see the glitter glimmering around my eye. This'll give my birthday photos a little bit of a different feel from usual.

Cater: As for my hair… Eh, I guess it's going a little too far if I did something with that too. I'll just massage in a little bit of wax and just set it like usual…

Cater: Perf, looks good. Hmmm… I still have a bit of time, so I guess I'll reply to all the birthday comments I got earlier.

Cater: I still need to record a birthday video, and I bet there'll be a party, or at least a get-together with the Pop Music Club...

Cater: Eheheh, I can't wait. I think I'll have enough content to upload to Magicam for a while!

[Main Street]

[Cater chats with everyone]

Cater: Yaay, thanks everyone! …Hm?

Cater: Who's that I spy walking over there…? Oh, hey, it's Leona-kun!

Leona: Cater…! Tch, what'd I do to be this unlucky?

Cater: Ehhh, you really gonna act like that in front of the birthday boooy?

Cater: So, anywaaaay… Remember how you said yesterday that you couldn't possibly be rude and wish me well the day before my birthday?

Cater: Which meeeeeans… Since we've met the day oooooof…

Leona: Yeah, yeah, you don't gotta tell me twice. …......Happy birthday.

Cater: Ahahah, I really got you of all people to wish me a happy birthday! This is gonna be a great year!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[baekhyunsbestie]

⟢ : N 2 DEEP !?

BABY THAT P*SSY WAS

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ SO WORTH THE WAIT!

I WASN'T IN LOVE WITH

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ NONE OF THEM ANYWAY!

★ had a req for virgin!reader and another for baekhyun's pov n i thot???? why not wake my ovulation demon up by combining the two!!! experienced!baekhyun talking virgin!reader through it??? uh, yeaaaaah, sign me tf up 🫦

★ content: 18+/mdni. 3.4k+ words. baekhyun’s pov. baekhyun x virgin f!reader. ex-playboy!baekhyun. yandere!baekhyun. pet names: baby, angel, sweetheart, etc. also calls you his good girl <3333333 literally just pwp!! fingering + oral (fem receiving). virginity loss. p in v. breeding kink. bulge kink. creampies (baek's got breeder balls). overstimulation. raw juseyoooooo <3

i used to be a different man.

selfish. reckless. untouchable.

i lived for the chase, for the thrill, for the fleeting satisfaction of a conquest already won before the game even began. the night always ended the same—someone pressed against me, lips searching, hands wandering, desperate to be the one i wouldn’t forget.

but i always forgot.

because none of it mattered.

i had everything—looks, charm, a reputation that did all the work for me. doors opened before i even knocked. women sought me out, fingers grazing my skin before i could learn their names, their lips curving into coy smiles as they whispered empty promises in my ear.

they wanted to be wanted.

they wanted to tame me.

and for a while, i let them believe it was possible. let them think they were different, let them pretend they meant something.

but they never did.

because i never stayed.

i played the game, flashing lazy smirks, murmuring all the right words at all the right moments. i gave just enough to keep them coming back, just enough to make them believe there was something real buried underneath it all.

but there wasn’t.

love was just a pretty lie people told themselves so they wouldn’t feel alone.

then she came along.

the first girl who didn’t look at me like i was something to win. the first girl to look at me like i was an actual fucking person.

she was different from the moment i met her—poised, careful, untouchable in a way that made my fingers itch with the need to unravel her.

she didn’t lean in when i spoke. didn’t soften under the weight of my gaze. didn’t lower her walls just because i smiled at her.

she wasn’t impressed.

and fuck, that made me want her more.

but she was cautious. too cautious.

when i stepped closer, she took a step back. when i spoke, she met my eyes but kept her distance. she wasn’t rude—she was polite, measured, controlled in a way that told me she had already heard the stories.

she knew who i was.

what i was.

and she wanted nothing to do with me.

i should have walked away. found someone easier. someone who wouldn’t make my chest ache with frustration and longing.

but i couldn’t.

i wanted her. no—i needed her.

for the first time in my life, i chased.

and god, i chased hard.

i stopped looking at other women, stopped entertaining the attention that used to thrill me. stopped indulging in meaningless touches, in flirtation that never led anywhere real.

none of it mattered.

not if it wasn’t her.

so i waited.

for months, i played the long game. carefully. intentionally. i let her set the pace, let her keep her distance, let her watch me until she was ready to believe that i meant it.

and when she finally did—when she finally let me in—

i fell.

harder. deeper. completely.

and now, when she looks up at me with those wide, trusting eyes, her body trembling beneath mine, offering me the one thing she’s never given anyone else, i know—

she’s mine.

there’s no walking away now. no pretending this is something casual, something temporary.

because this? this is everything.

she is everything.

her skin is warm beneath my lips, trembling ever so slightly as i kiss my way down her body. every little shiver, every breathy sigh—i drink them in, savor them. she’s so sensitive, so responsive, it makes my stomach tighten with something primal, something possessive.

she doesn’t even know.

doesn’t know what she does to me, how long i’ve been waiting, craving, aching for this moment. she’s stretched out beneath me, bare, untouched, soft in a way that makes my teeth grind and my blood run hot. she’s mine, even if she doesn’t understand it yet.

her hands fist the sheets, her chest rising and falling in shaky, uneven breaths. she’s nervous. i can feel the tension in her thighs, the way her body trembles slightly under my touch.

“baby,” i murmur, smoothing my hands down her sides, slow and careful, feeling the way her stomach flutters beneath my touch. “are you sure?”

she nods, but i see the hesitation flickering in her gaze, the uncertainty in the way she swallows hard, like she’s trying to work up the courage to say it out loud.

so i guide her.

i catch her chin between my fingers, tilting her face up, forcing her to look at me.

“tell me,” i say softly, my thumb brushing along the curve of her jaw.

her lips part, but no words come out.

“sweetheart,” i whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, my voice gentle, firm, steady. “if you’re not ready, we don’t have to—”

“i am.”

her voice is quiet but certain, her fingers tightening around my arms like she’s afraid i might pull away.

“i want to do this. with you. i want you, baekhyun.”

fuck.

i exhale slowly, pressing my forehead against hers, breathing her in.

“i’ve waited so long for you,” i murmur, tracing my fingers over her collarbone, watching the way her pulse flutters beneath my touch.

she exhales shakily, hands sliding up my chest, warm and tentative.

“yeah? for how long?”

“since the first night i met you.”

her breath catches. “b-but i—”

“hah, i know,” i chuckle, cutting her off, my lips ghosting over hers. “you didn’t want anything to do with me, huh?”

she swallows, looking guilty, but i kiss her before she can apologize.

“you were right to be cautious,” i murmur against her lips. “but i changed for you, sweetheart. i waited for you. i’d do it again if it meant i could have you like this. all to myself.”

her hands cup my face, her thumbs brushing over my cheekbones, and for a moment, she just looks at me.

searching.

memorizing.

and i let her see everything.

the devotion.

the patience.

the undeniable, unshakable truth that she belongs to me now.

she trusts me.

and i'll fucking die before i break that trust.

so when i spread her open, pressing my lips between her thighs, i take my time.

i let her feel every slow, deliberate touch, every lingering kiss, every whispered praise.

she’s already trembling, body pliant under my hands, her thighs twitching where they frame my shoulders. warm, soft, dripping for me, waiting. she doesn’t even realize how far gone she is, how much i’ve unraveled her already.

“so fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart—so fuckin’ sweet,” i murmur, voice thick, heavy with heat. my tongue flicks against her, teasing, coaxing, savoring.

a sharp gasp escapes her lips, her fingers tangling in my hair, trying to push me closer, trying to pull me away—she doesn’t know what she wants anymore.

i groan into her, drunk on the slick coating my lips, my chin, my fingers. “shh,” i soothe, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh, holding her down as she squirms beneath me. “just relax, love. lemme take care of you.”

she’s still trembling when i slide a finger inside her, feeling her tense, feeling the way her walls clutch around me, untested and impossibly tight.

“breathe, angel,” i whisper, my free hand smoothing over her stomach, pressing down lightly, making her feel every motion, every stretch. “you’re doing so well.”

she whimpers, a broken sound, her hands fisting the sheets. overwhelmed. drowning.

“hey,” i murmur, my tone firm, commanding, anchoring her. “look at me, baby.”

her eyes find mine, wide, unfocused, wrecked.

“ya feel that?” i breathe, curling my fingers just right, stroking that spot that has her back arching off the bed. she lets out a sharp cry, her thighs clamping around my head. “that's how you’re gonna feel when i fuck ya full of my cock.”

she trembles, gripping at my arms, teetering on the edge, fighting the stretch but craving more.

i press another kiss to her clit before pulling back, watching her.

she looks ruined—flushed, panting, trembling, her lips swollen from biting them too hard.

and i haven’t even started.

“want you to count for me, angel,” i instruct, pressing my fingers deeper inside her, twisting them just enough to make her whine.

“h-huh?”

i smirk, dragging my tongue up her slit, flicking against her clit before pulling back. “every time you cum, i want ya to count. think ya can do that for me?”

she nods, but i grip her thigh, making her gasp.

“words, baby.”

“y-yes,” she stutters, already breathless. “i can.”

“that’s my good girl,” i praise, before sealing my mouth over her again, sucking her clit into the heat of my tongue.

she thrashes, moaning, pulling at my hair as i work her open, fucking her with my fingers, curling just right, coaxing, dragging, pulling her under.

“baek—i—oh my god—fuck!” her words dissolve into broken sobs, her body tensing, her orgasm slamming into her, making her shake apart beneath me.

“one,” i murmur against her soaked skin, kissing her clit as she writhes.

but i don’t stop.

i don’t give her time to recover before i press my tongue against her again, relentless, insatiable.

“too much—” she chokes out, but her body betrays her, hips grinding into my face, chasing more.

“mm, mm, baby,” i groan, fucking my fingers into her deeper, letting her feel it, letting her drown in it. “’m not stoppin’ ‘til i hear ya count again.”

she sobs, her thighs trembling, but she can’t resist me, can’t fight the way i make her feel, can’t stop the next wave from crashing over her.

“t-two,” she gasps, barely a whisper.

i smirk, dragging my tongue slow and deep over her folds.

“good girl. now gimme another.”

i pull her back in, take her apart again, and again, and again.

by the time she hits four, she’s shaking so hard she can barely breathe, her voice breaking on my name, her body helpless, pliant, wrecked beneath me.

i finally pull back, wiping my chin with the back of my hand, watching her struggle to open her eyes, her chest heaving, her skin flushed all over.

“you okay, angel?” i murmur, brushing her damp hair back from her face.

she barely manages a nod, eyes glazed, lips parted, her body still twitching from the aftershocks.

i hover over her, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, her temple, her lips—reassuring her, grounding her.

“you did so well,” i praise, kissing her softly, gently, letting her feel just how much i adore her.

but then i press my cock against her entrance, dragging the thick head through the mess i made of her.

“now,” i whisper, voice dark with intent. i let the tip of my cock drag through the slick mess between her thighs, teasing her, pressing against her entrance but not pushing in yet. her breath stutters, her hips instinctively rolling up, chasing friction.

so desperate already. so easy to ruin.

“let’s see if ya can count for me again.”

her eyes flutter open, glazed over, unfocused. her lips are swollen, bruised, parted as she pants, barely catching her breath from how i’ve already wrung her out. but she’s still hungry for more. she’s still gripping at my arms, still trembling beneath me, waiting for me to give it to her.

“this is the part where you tell me if you want to stop,” i murmur, even though i already know she won’t.

she doesn’t hesitate.

“i don’t want you to stop.”

mine.

fucking mine.

the second i push in, i know i’m fucked.

not just in the way i’m used to—not in that fleeting, skin-deep, feel-good-for-a-moment kind of way. this is different. she is different. and the way she’s clenching around me, the way she’s looking at me like i’m the only person in the world—i’m done for.

i’ve had plenty before. too many to count. never cared to remember. i’ve fucked for the sake of fucking, for release, for the thrill of it. but this? this isn’t just sex. this is something i need. something i’ll never be able to forget, even if i wanted to.

she’s so tight, so warm, gripping me like she was made for me, and the thought alone nearly sends me over the edge. no one’s ever felt like this before. no one’s ever been like this before.

i watch her face, see every little change—the way her brows pinch, her lips part, her breath stutters. i know it’s her first time, and fuck, the thought of being the first and only makes something primal claw at my insides. i have to breathe through it, force myself to stay in control, because all i want to do is claim. mark her, ruin her, make sure she never forgets this either.

“you okay?” i rasp, voice rough, strained. i don’t even realize how hard i’m gripping her hips until i see the way my fingers dig into her skin.

she nods, lips trembling just slightly. “y-yeah. i’m good, baby. it’s okay, keep going.”

i press in deeper, slow, deliberate, letting her feel every inch. her nails bite into my arms, her thighs tense around me, and fuck, she’s taking me so well. too well. i can’t think straight. i can’t fucking breathe.

“so fuckin’ perfect,” i murmur, my forehead dropping against hers. my heart’s hammering in my chest, my pulse racing, but it’s not just from how good she feels—it’s her. it’s the way she looks at me, the way she trusts me, the way i know—i know—i can never go back after this.

she gasps, her nails digging into my back, legs wrapping around me to hold me there, like she needs me to fill every inch of her.

i kiss her temple, soothing her even as she clenches around me, whispering into her skin.

“breathe, baby,” i murmur, stroking her hair back, kissing her cheek, her jaw. “you’re doing so well. it’s okay. you can let me in.”

i go slow.

soft kisses. whispered encouragement. steady hands keeping her safe.

when i bottom out, when she takes all of me, i groan against her lips, my arms tightening around her.

“baekhyun,” she whispers, voice trembling, wrecked, drowning in me. “y'feel so—hah—so good.”

“oh, yeah? so do you, baby,” i breathe, rolling my hips, slow but deliberate, savoring the way she clenches down on me. fuck, she’s tight—gummy walls hugging my cock, gripping me like a fucking vice. like she doesn’t want to let me go.

like she couldn’t even if she tried.

it’s taking everything in me not to lose it, not to fuck her too hard, not to fill her up right here and now.

“you’re mine, baby,” i murmur against her lips, voice thick with need. i slide a hand up, cradling her cheek, my thumb tracing her lips. “you’re doing so well.”

her breath stutters, breaking into a moan as she tries to adjust, fingers dragging down my back, pressing her nails into my skin. she’s trusting me, giving me everything.

“that’s it,” i praise, voice soft but firm, kissing her temple, the corner of her mouth, anywhere i can reach.

when she starts moving with me, when she stops fighting it, stops trying to hold herself back—

i reward her.

“so, so good for me,” i murmur, kissing her deep, swallowing her little cries as i thrust into her, rolling my hips slow, deep. “so fuckin’ perfect, baby. taking me so well.”

her legs tighten around me, heels digging into my lower back, pulling me in, keeping me there.

“god, i fuckin' love you,” i rasp, the confession slipping past my lips, raw and unfiltered.

she whimpers, pulling me closer, chest to chest, breath mingling with mine.

“i love you, too, baby,” she gasps, voice shaking, wrecked.

then—

“hah—sh-shit, baek. you’re s-so big,” she whimpers, head tilting back. “i can feel you right here.”

her trembling hand presses against her lower stomach.

and i see it.

the thick outline of my cock bulging through, stretching her open, proof of how fucking deep i am.

and it fucking breaks me.

“holy shit—” i groan, something primal snapping inside me as my hips snap forward, pounding into her, fucking her harder, rougher.

her cry is sharp, breathless, her fingers curling into the sheets as she takes it, lets me chase my release, lets me ruin her.

“nngghh—fuck, baby,” i pant, dropping my head to her shoulder, my teeth grazing her skin before biting down, leaving a deep mark against her collarbone. “gonna fuckin’ cum—gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

i spill inside her, my body locking up as i empty myself, pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep into her.

but i don’t stop.

my cock is still throbbing, still rock-hard, still buried deep inside her, and she flinches when i pull back just enough to thrust in again.

“b-baekhyun—i can’t!” she gasps, nails digging into my arms, her body shaking from how sensitive she is.

i groan, grinding deeper, my forehead dropping against hers.

“shh, baby,” i whisper, pressing kisses to her cheek, her jaw, her swollen lips. “you can take it. i know ya can.”

she whimpers, body arching into mine, her walls fluttering around me, already on the verge of another orgasm.

“ya feel that, baby?” i rasp, pressing my palm over her stomach, feeling myself inside her. “that’s all me.”

i shift, angling my hips just right, and she cries out, her head tilting back, her throat exposed, body trembling beneath me. her nails rake down my arms, dragging over my back, leaving angry red lines in their wake. marking me. claiming me. and fuck, it only fuels me.

makes me want to give her more.

makes me want to fuck her so good she doesn’t just feel me now, but tomorrow. for days.

her back arches off the bed, hips lifting to meet every deep, controlled thrust, chasing it, needing it. and i give it to her, steady and deliberate, my cock pulsing inside her, my body working hers open all over again.

“gonna fill ya up again, sweetheart,” i groan, voice hoarse, raw with hunger. “gonna take care of you. you want that, right?”

“yes, baek! fuck—wanna milk you dry. wanna have your babies,” she moans, her voice breaking against my lips, her legs tightening around me, keeping me locked in, keeping me buried so deep i can barely think straight.

and fuck—hearing her say it, hearing how filthy she sounds, how much she wants this, wants me—it nearly unravels me right there.

i could cum from that alone.

but i want to cum with her this time.

want to fuck it back into her while she arches her back, while she moans against my lips like she’s singing for me, like every sound she makes is meant for me and me only.

“that’s it, baby,” i whisper, my lips brushing over hers, coaxing, guiding, leading her exactly where i want her. “just let go. let me have you.”

and she does.

she falls apart beneath me, her body tensing, her walls fluttering, squeezing me tight—too tight—like she’s trying to pull me deeper, drag me under with her. her moans crack into sobs, her thighs trembling as the pleasure overtakes her completely, raw and overwhelming.

“f-five,” she gasps, the word barely leaving her lips, her body still wracked with aftershocks.

but i’m not done.

i grip her thighs, pushing them up, pressing them against her chest, folding her into a mating press, my body caging hers in.

her breath catches.

her eyes go wide.

she’s already sensitive, already on the edge of breaking all over again.

“one more, baby,” i rasp, grinding into her, rolling my hips slow, deep, making sure she feels every thick inch of me pressing into her, filling her to the brim.

she whimpers, fingers clawing at my forearms like she’s holding on for dear life.

“can ya do that for me?” i murmur, kissing her lips, her cheek, her throat. “one more, love. i know ya can.”

she nods frantically, lost in it, lost in me, in the stretch, the heat, the overwhelming pressure of it all.

“words, sweetheart,” i remind her, pushing in deeper, making her sob.

“y-yes,” she cries, voice shaking, already on the brink. “i can—i can—”

her body locks up, every muscle tightening as she clenches down around me, hard, her whole frame trembling, her moans dissolving into desperate, breathless cries as she cums again—one last time.

and when i feel her tip over the edge, when i feel her walls tighten around me like she’s trying to take every last drop—

i don’t hold back.

“shit—” i groan, my hips snapping forward, burying myself to the hilt, grinding deep as i spill inside her, filling her up just like i promised.

hot, thick ropes of my release coat her walls, my cock pulsing with every shuddering breath, every sharp inhale, my body trembling from the sheer force of it.

but i don’t move right away.

i let her feel it. feel me.

feel the way i stretch her full, how i keep her stuffed, plugged up, making sure not a single drop escapes—like her body was made to take me, to keep me.

she’s still trembling, still pulsing around me, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants as the aftershocks ripple through her. i stay inside, refusing to pull away, letting her feel every inch of me even as her body melts into the mattress, boneless, ruined, perfect.

i press lazy kisses to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth—soft, slow, reverent.

“mine,” i murmur, voice thick with possession, my fingers threading through her damp hair, smoothing it back. i stroke gentle patterns into her skin, grounding her, anchoring her to me as she drifts, her lashes fluttering, lips parted, body completely spent.

“always,” i whisper, sealing my promise with one last kiss.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ i think this helped me get me outta my lil writing slump :') hope u guys like it n got pregnant from it!!! i know i sure as hell did!! ​but also???? writing in his pov was soooo much fun omg!!!! made me wish i had a dick omg i’d b unstoppable 😭 as always, lmk what u think hehe 💗💖💗💞🩷💝💘💝💗

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[millilps]

Italian moment fr

so!

"Milli" comes from my first cat. she was a cat my family adopted when I was 3 (2005) and sadly crossed the rainbow bridge in 2019. we grew up together!

in middle school i started watching a lot of youtube (y'know, the classic "undiagnosed neurodivergent kid with no real close friends suddenly finds themselves with insane english skills by watching youtube") and specifically a lot of LPStube. around 2016, in high school, i decided i wanted a channel too, and i needed a mascot for it, and I knew I wanted a cat. so, when I found this LPS boardgame new in box for an affordable price on eBay, I just knew it was a match made in heaven.

why is this relevant, you might ask? see, the mascot choice wasn't random. well, I liked that shorthair, but I also thought - Milli will leave me one day. I want to remember her forever for all she did for me. and so, the gray shorthair cat, or shorthair cat 483 for lps collectors, was officially named Milli and became the mascot of my future channel.

I went through a lot of thinking and doodling and thinking again before finding a good name for the channel. how do you choose a name? should I go with my real name preceded/followed by LPS like LPSHannah? a nickname, maybe? something else entirely, like myLPSpetworld and PawesomeTV? I ended up settling on MilliLPS, mascot name followed by LPS.

after I started my channel I started gaining subscribers and meeting new people, finding new friends, and obviously those friends didn't know my name - they knew me as Milli. and so, I started using MilliLPS as my name everywhere.

I used to have a Tumblr account before this one. I don't remember what it was called, I don't remember anything, I'm pretty sure I never posted anything interesting other than reblogging some MLP art every now and then, but when I made this one I knew I had to call it millilps.

in 2024, after years of having doubts on which fursona was the main (I had a white and blue cat named Umi and a dutchie named Amethyst) i decided to make a new one. one that would match my name. and like that, i had a new fursona, a black cat with white paws, tip of the tail and patch around the left eye.

and now, 2025, 6 years after Milli left this planet and some time (months?) after I found out I am non-binary, I'm here, proudly calling myself Milli, honouring a creature that changed my life, and possibly saved it too.

Tagging @lovinglapislazuli @miaowmelodie @jikimo-world @ends-thenbegins @pimpa @donnapalude @joygirlmelii

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[renren-006]

being geta’s betrothed and catching lucius’ eye!

Amor Fati | Lucius Verus Aurelius

plot: high status fem reader (betrothed to Geta) x Lucius the boy who saw who she truly was

use of roman lingo/historical terms, angst, not entirely canon accurate, death and violence

translation of amor fati: love of fate

Word Count: 3923 Other Stories: Familer Eyes, Emporor Lucious, Doctors Magic

a/n: thank you so much for the request i was so excited to write this!! I did my best to also write a bit more "Roman"! Enjoy!

The sun beat down on the emperor's box. Only so much the velarium could do to prevent the sun's rays from entering the little room. You leaned forward in your seat, and closer and closer, you crept to the railing. You wanted to feel more of the sun; it was the only time of the day you were allowed outside the palace, and you wanted to enjoy every bit of it. 

Once the sun hit your face, a sigh escaped your lips, and the tension in your body fell. The warmth and heat of the sun made everything feel better. You knew Geta would scold you any minute for the act, but you could care less. 

Your imprisonment in the palace started a year ago when your father, an elite senate member, said you were to be married to the emperor. Apparently, the emperor was looking to the senate members for marriage offers; your father was the first and only one to stand with one. Your face fell at the memory of him coming home and telling you to pack your things and leave for the palace. You screamed yourself that night, fought every way to that place, and didn't even spare a glance at the emperor before you were shoved in your room with the door locked behind you. 

You sat back at the memory, wanting to leave it in the past. You couldn't change your fate, the one you were forced into. You had always hoped you wouldn't be one of the women thrown into an arranged marriage by their fathers, but here you were. While you and Emperor Geta were not married, you knew it was coming soon. A shaky breath left you at the thought. Geta was not a terrible man, but he wasn't a good one either. You could see his rage and ambition, and it scared you the way he ruled with it. 

You looked to your left and saw Geta sitting on his throne with a plastered smile. It was a wicked one. You shrunk away at the sight. You wished for nothing more than to be rid of him and this role. The more you ponder, the more you lose track of the world. It wasn't until Getas's voice spoke up next to you that you blinked back to reality.

“Why is that gladiator looking at…you” Geta said, casting an aggravated look down towards the pits. You turned your head towards the gladiator in question. You felt as if lightning struck you when you locked eyes with him. For that tiny moment, you felt as if all that mattered in the world was him. This brown-haired blue-eyed gladiator smirked at you, making your heart beat even faster. A slight blush crept up your cheeks. You looked away before anyone noticed and before the heat in your stomach could intensify. Geta eyed you suspiciously before returning to the games and seemingly forgetting about everything. You let out a slow breath that you didn't realize you had been holding. You often wondered how many times a day you forget to breathe when around Geta, always worried about being anything other than perfect. 

That night was filled with another lavish party, and you tried to keep a smile and content look on your face. You glanced towards the arches on the far side of the room that led out onto the streets of Rome. People passed through them as they entered the party, coming and going. You wished you were one of those people, able to come and go as pleased. You knew you had to wait till night when the empire slept before you could creep out onto the streets. The furthest you had made it in one night was past the gates, watching the sunrise over the hills towards the countryside. You were back in your room by sun up and complained of feeling ill to get out of leaving your room for the day. Those days when you could be yourself at night and explore were all you looked forward to.

As the night grew late and their parties died, you bid farewell and went to your room. You were overlooked as you left; the emperors were occupied with their own girls. Thoughts swarmed your mind. ‘this would not be how your night ended’, you wanted to see the gladiator that caught your eye. You stopped momentarily before a smile crept onto your face, another perfect outing. You slipped your way out of the palace and onto the streets of Rome. 

The Colosseum loomed ahead of you, drawing you in. You walked through its halls, which were quiet now in the late night hours. The only noise could be heard from the Ludus, where the gladiators lived. You walked inside, the cloak around your neck and head protecting you slightly. The men eyed you curiously, some recognizing you from the emperor's box. Ravi, the gladiator's doctor, walked over to you. 

“I see your adventures have taken you here,” he said lightly. Ravi was one of the few men you had come across on your nightly walks that were kind and enjoyable to converse with. You nodded your head at the man.

“After much pleading from you and the electrifying eyes of a gladiator, I was drawn here,” you told him honestly. Your voice steady as you spoke to him

“Someone catch your eye,” Ravi said, laughing a little. He motioned you to follow him as he showed you towards their dining area. “Not much longer will they be here.” Many gladiators were still enjoying the company of others while eating the rest of their final meals of the day. You glanced around the room, waiting for him to catch your eye. You glanced out twords the training grounds in search of him. There he was, training for his next day in the arena. You walked over to the walkway's edge, carefully watching from afar. When he heard your feet as they drew closer, he glanced behind him. His eyes met yours, and the same electrifying feeling was sent through your body. The man dropped his sword and marched over to you.

“Noble women should not be down here,” he told you, eyeing you up and down. His hands reached out and threaded through some of the fabric of your dress. “Or did you come here to boast about your position”

“I am not one to boast,” you told him. His eyes were finally brought back up to meet yours. “I am only here to…meet you.” The sweetness in your voice dripped like honey, drawing him in like a bee. The man before you could practically taste the sweetness of your voice. 

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I am not interesting, my lady,” he said with a deep accent. It made your knees feel weak hearing it from his lips. You both stood in each other's presence, neither wanting to move or break the moment. 

“What is your prenomen?” you asked the gladiator before you. He glanced down before returning his gaze to your face. 

“Hanno,” he said, “my lady”

“I do not need the formality,” you told him, “y/n will do.”

“y/n.” It rolled off his lips with ease and sensuality that you almost felt yourself lose composure. Hanno was nothing like the man you had known or knew; he was something else entirely. “The guards call for me now, I must leave you.”

“I will pray for you tomorrow.” Eagerness filled your voice with the promise. 

“I do not need your god's help,” Hanno's words hung in the air, “your presents is enough.” with a sweet smile, he left twords his cell. You could tell he held a lot on his shoulders. 

As the night turned to day, golden rays warmed the earth. You rose from your bed, the night's events playing in your head still. A smile played on your lips at the thought of seeing your gladiator fight. You waited for your gladiator to file into the arena. As he did, a small smile played on your lips. 

“Minerva, let his sword be true,” you whispered. The wind picked up momentarily, brushing past Hanno; they heard your prayer. He fought true and won his battle, Rome was pleased by his winning. Hanno looked up at the emperor's box and smiled at you before showing his sword. He was showing you his praise, the rest of the box saw this as an act of respect for the emporos. You knew it was only for you.

You simply watched Hanno behind shadows as he trained for the next few days. He knew you were there, but no words could leave your lips around him. Your heart hammed in your chest as you watched him train, or fight.  Your growing infatuation was making your life complicated. 

Geta strolled into the palace library, seeking to find you. You sat in the far corner, immersed in a book.

“My beloved,” he said, a smile on his face. “Why have you abandoned your duties” “Geta… ”you signed; this was a conversation you did not know how to have. “I…” “Answer me,” the emperor before you commanded you, not the man you knew he shielded himself from. 

“I had a moment of weakness not fulfilling those duties.” you told him smoothly, “I shall resume them.” “Good. As the woman I am to marry, you must show me you are loyal.” “As you wish. My Geta,” you told him. He smiled before he kissed your cheek and left the library. The breath you held was released, and you let the book in your hands fall to the floor. Tears fell from your eyes again. Geta was never cruel, but his words cut deep to you like a knife. Those words of duty and obligation stung like a bee. You were haunted by the duty and life that was forced upon you, something inside you wished to flee. Your maid rushed to your side, plying your hands from your face to wipe the tears that fell.

“Shhh, mistress,” she whispered, “you must not cry in these halls, ears and eyes everywhere.” You wanted only to be held but knew the status between you and the older woman before you forbade it. She held your hand at the sad and pleading look in your eyes for some motherly support. 

“I…do not want this role,” you whispered.

“I know, miss. I know. You must please the emperor, or he will punish you,” she told you, “I see him punished. Cruel man.” A small cry fell from your lips; the idea of seeing who he is beyond the Geta you have seen scared you. 

Those next few days, you did as asked and never left Geta’s side. You made your smile look like jewels to Geta and the others in his company. You did everything right, making Geta lose his interest in seeing your complacency. As the days turned to weeks he slowly lost his interest in you, your complacency, no signs of love, he turned back to his women he had hanging off his throne. 

It was not until a few days later that you visited Hanno in Ludus. You slipped into his cell. He turned from the wall he faced to find you lifting your head to meet his eyes. 

“You are back,” he said, walking over. 

“Yes,” you were firm in your answer before you deflated. “I needed to escape.” 

“Escape? From where?” he asked, motioning for you to sit in the small bed he had been given. You shook your head, not ready to tell him of the life you know others would grab for. 

“Why did you look at me that way in the arena?” You asked him. He glanced up at you. 

“You should not ask that,” he said softly. 

“I will ask. Hanno, I need to know,” you told him, almost pleading with the man before you to tell you why he had a slight look of love and familiarity in his eyes. 

“Your eyes. Your smile. Reminded me of my wife who passed,” he told you, interrupting your voice. “I felt a connection, and I wanted to…I wanted to be with you, see what it was”

“I am sorry about your wife” you said in response. “I too...wanted to be with you”

“You have the emperor.” his voice was still tired as he spoke. Reminding the both of you of the obligations you were given. 

“I do not love him. I do not wish to be with him,” you told him 

“Then why are you?” he asked, curious about your life. 

“Not my wish. My father sold me to him…I fought that night to not go,” you told him, words turning from anger to sadness. Hanno's hand landed on your knee. The callouses felt good against your soft skin. Your eyes met his. 

“We are both here not of our own will,” he told you, filling your soul with understanding. You sat with Hanno for a while before bidding on your goodbyes. You looked back at him when you left; love looked back. 

The next time you visit was when Hanno sat outside on the training grounds. You watched the sun sink lower and lower into the horizon.

 “Why do you keep visiting me?” you glanced back twords the man beside you. Those tired eyes filled with more life as the moments passed. 

“You see me,” you told him, “no…obligations are required when i am with yo.u”

“What else?” he asked, knowing there was more behind your words. 

“You are the only one to see me, truly see me,” you told him, “not as some senator's daughter or the emperor betrothed…I do not have to be perfect when I am with you, I can just be”

“You are simply y/n,” he told you, “you are yourself; you are not defined by your father or your position.” “I wish that to be so,” you said sadly. The weight of your life and position felt like the most significant challenge you had. You knew he understood; you could feel your souls connecting more and more. 

“I escaped my position long ago,” he said quietly, “I fear after returning to Rome, I must soon take that position again.”

“May I ask what position?”

“In time,” he told you, smiling sadly. You nodded, understanding the desire to hide parts of himself. To be seen was intimate, and he was not yet there. You placed a hand on top of his, causing his eyes to lift to yours.

“I am here whenever you wish to tell me more…But I must go before I am looked for” you told him. You stood, still holding his hand, he turned it to grasp yours. He smiled a sad tired smile. You nodded your head as a bid goodbye and left his side. The walk back to your prison had never felt so cold and lonely before. 

It was days beofre you went back, knowing your visits were drawing more eyes on you than you intended to. This may have to be your last one for quite some time. As you walked to meet with Hanno, he grasped your hand. 

“What is wrong,” you asked him. Tired, scared, and anxious eyes looked at you.

“You should not have come.” “What? Why?” you asked worried

“There is…a plan happening, and your being here will put you in danger.” “Hanno. What plan?” you glanced behind you twords the other cells and guards.

“Remember I told you I left my position here in Rome,” he said, causing your eyes to lock back in with his. He has his hands on your arms, keeping your attention on him. “I do.” In your response, you looked into his blue eyes hesitantly.

“This position…was the prince of Rome. My name, my true name is Lucious Verus Aurelius.” “You…Lucious?” you asked he smiled something unique. Recognition with his name when it came from your lips, like that name was meant to be spoken by you. 

“Yes. Y/n” “I cannot believe it”

The night was spent with him retelling his history to you and the stories he lobed in the colonies across the Mediterranean. He spoke of the people, their beliefs, and the difference between there and Rome. The world beyond Rome's white marble sounded divine.  You were swept up in his stories, his eyes, and the lips that kissed you before you left the cell.

“Lucious” “Promise you will keep yourself safe,” he asked of you, forehead on yours. Red lips speaking to you.

“As safe as I can be,” you told him, knowing that the gods would only decide your fate. Another kiss from the man-made your world spin again. As you left, a smile played on your lips back to your gloomy home.  

“Where have you been my betrothed?” Geta asked you as he came walking down twords you. He plucked the book from your hand, causing you to face Geta. 

“I have been here,” you told him. His eyes track your every move. He kept looking at you, disappointment was evident.

“You lie to me. Your emperor,” he told you, a scrolling voice filled the library. Your maid backed away further into the room. 

“I…” you stuttered, unable to find your voice for a reason. 

“You think it does not know about the escapades you partake in?” Geta asked you gesturing to the world outside of the palace. Your head hung low. Worry filled your head, scared he may be the man everyone fears he is. Cruel and unkind. 

“I shall show you why you do not mess with me,” he said. He took your arm in his hands and dragged you away. You looked back as you were pulled away from the library; your maid wept at your leaving. As you looked forward, tears slowly fell from your eyes. That moment you knew would come of your desire to be outside the palace had come. 

You walked out onto the emperor's box landing. There you stood, chained and beaten. Tiny droplets of blood had dried in the corner of your mouth, your cheeks were bruised, and your hair had seen better days. There were minor cuts and bruises along your arms that were not covered by the dress you were strapped in. Once in the stands, the people around you could see. You glanced down at the pits, knowing that when Lucious came out of those wooden gates and saw you, he may try to do something he shouldn't. The crowd grew loud in the stands, many not knowing why they stood in chains.  As those mighty doors opened and Lucious stepped out you wished to scream to him to run. A whimper escaped you when he faced you, the other gladiators entering faded into the background. You watched his face contort with anger; your eyes pleaded with him not to do anything.

“Is this what Roman emperors do? Is this how they treat their women?” he yelled out. 

“It is what we do with women who are unfaithful,” Geta responded, a coolness about his tone and words. You were pulled towards him, crashing into his body. He held your arms and chains tight in his hands. You wanted to cry, scream, and beg someone to set you free. “We must show them that whoever they choose to be with instead of their betrothed…must be killed”.

“No…no, please,” you whispered, begging around the cuff of your neck. You tried to turn to Geta to beg him to not hurt Lucious, but when you looked, your throat closed. He was looking at Lucious, already figuring out what man you had been seeing. The viscous nature of Geta, which you had heard so much about, was finally presented to you. You looked back twords Lucious, those tears you tried your best to hide slowly fell down your cheeks. 

If only you could know how Lucious felt in that moment, watching you be made a villain by the emperor, watching you chained and without freedom. He felt what you felt, every last emotion.

Geta pulled at the chains around your neck to take your eyes off Lucious. Tears now streamed down your face. “You would rather a gladiator, a slave, than me”, he screamed. His face is red with anger, and he looked at you. 

“Yes,” you responded, eyes moving to try and look twords your gladiator. There, Lucious stood proudly watching you as you told the man who had taken you from your home and told you were to marry him without any freedom that you had your freedom to love. Lucious moved closer to the box.

“You should let her go,” Lucious said, “You do not own her.” Many in the crowd started cheering for him, their favorite gladiator. Geta looked stunned by the words leaving Lucious mouth. He looked at the crowd, which was turning into a mob of people yelling twords the emperor to let you go free. The archers around the walls turned onto the people, unsure what to do. Geta himself looked clueless. 

“I am your emperor,” he shouted, “my words and actions are permitted by the gods.” “Maybe your gods, but not mine,” Lucious yelled, angling his sword to be thrown twords the box. As he looked into your eyes, you saw the sea's calm. You released all tension in your limbs and focused just on him. 

Everything changed, however, when General Acacious stormed into the Colosseum with his army. It was as Lucious had said; his family had planned something. The entire might of General Acacius' army stood in the Coliseum, and the emperors looked down in horror. Geta was now lost more, and it looked like he wanted to run. That's when the gladiators in the arena charged twords the emperor's army. No one was allowed to choose a side or talk before fighting erupted. Geta let your chains go; the weight pulled you down a little. You picked them up, allowing you to see the chaos around you. With all the men and swords, you lost sight of Lucious. Before long, one of the guards aimed a sword at you, and you looked at him wide-eyed. Before he could do anything to you, a sword burst from his chest; the guard looked down in shock before he collapsed. Lucious stood behind the man, proud and angry. The day's emotions caught up to you, and you collapsed into his arms. 

“It's alright now,” he spoke to you. The clashing of swords and loud voices filled the space around you. “I am here now.” You looked up into his eyes; a small smile danced on his face.“What has got you so happy?” “You. Saving you and being able to do that…”You could tell that he was finally able to save someone, someone special, and healed something inside of himself. He smiled at you, bright and happy. Freedom never looked so good, especially since freedom meant being with Lucious. As the fight continued in the arena, neither of you were concerned.

[gffa]

Guess who is full of blood and didn't get dizzy or extremely winded when going out to get the mail? THIS GAL. Why, I even was able to go up a flight of stairs and NOT immediately want to collapse into a sweaty, panting mess! In other words, the transfusion went well, it was mostly just boring and I went in loaded for bear (I brought three separate things to entertain me, plus snacks, plus lip balm, plus lotion, plus an extra pad because I'm still on my period, plus a bunch of other stuff) and really only read like five chapters of a webtoon the entire 4+ hours I was there. Sometimes I don't feel any different, I always felt okay when I was sitting or in bed, but boyyyyy could I tell a difference in just doing regular daily chores. Suddenly it wasn't too much work to get up and close the curtains. Suddenly it wasn't too much work to actually cut the meat for a dinner instead of just microwaving something. Suddenly it wasn't too much work to haul in my new computer table box from storage and start to unpack it. But also I need you guys to understand that sometimes I am deeply, truly ridiculous--so, okay, I had pretty thoroughly convinced myself that I couldn't be anemic because my symptoms were a little off and because I ate red meat every single day, there was no way I could be anemic with that much iron in me, etc. etc. I am someone who runs hot, I'm always hot even when everyone else is cold, so I've developed a strong fondness for cold drinks. When I still drank soda, I would put them in the back of the fridge right up against the coldest spot, so they would be starting to slush over and it was the greatest thing I have ever tasted. I love ice water, it's genuinely my favorite thing to drink, the colder the better. And oh my god ice, I will straight up eat ice because I'm so hot and it cools me down like nothing else. I've been like this for years, but I'm trying to cut back because even though I only eat the softer ones, I'm wary of what it's doing to my teeth, I've even had dreams about how wary I am. But I was like a fiend with those half-melted ice cubes, I would stare at my glass in the middle of the night, intending to just take a drink of water before going back to bed, but ohhhh just a couple of crunched up ice cubes would be so good on my throat, I'm so hot, that'll cool me down, they feel so good when they're in little pieces, and I couldn't stop myself. Cut to today, me after getting two transfusion units pumped into me, staring down at my water glass, no longer tempted to eat an entire glass of ice: ..............well, fuck. I KNEW THE DESIRE TO EAT ICE WAS A SIGN OF ANEMIA, I HAVE KNOWN THAT FOR YEARS, IT'S NOT EXACTLY AN UNKNOWN THING, but I 100% rationalized it away that I just liked cold drinks and I feel like a dumbass now because the absolute NEED to eat that glass of ice even when I was afraid of the damage it would do REALLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SIGN. Anyway, nobody should ever think I'm not a ridiculous person, because I 100% am. 😂

[jeonscatalyst]

Being part of the biggest clown shippers of the k-pop and calling others idiots is a joke a phunnyyy one at that lol.

Like you jeonscatalyst even i thought this blogger was somewhat a normal tkkr because i once got recommended their post when i was searching something, they said jikook are good friends (bare minimum) so i was like damn that's the most intellectual thing i have ever seen a tkkr say. But then i once read there clownery in jkk tag and i had to block them because i don't have patients to see the stupidity in jkk tag. they had written a whole ass Thai bl script in that post and i was like the most reaction you're getting out of me for that post is a block. i genuinely thought this one was normal and doesn't ship taekook because jikook is a company ship but of course what do we expect from sheeps? to follow one another with a blind fold on.

Taekookers should be glad that jimin isn't what they want him to be (leaning more into fanservice lol) because Who jk asked to do a live with him? To jm and what did jm do? declined the offer. now WHO asked jk to do a live with him? tae. jm said he still remembers how bam used to sleep on his arm when he was baby but who has a pic posted with bam from company? tae with a caption "I raised bam" when not even jk was able to do that given his busy schedule so bam has spent most of his time in training center he still does. so jm and other members also knew bam way before ITS 2 and given that one pic of tae and bam seems like jk took bam to the comp and jm has known bam to say how he used to sleep in his arms but did he post anything? No. when jk was happy that he'll get his first boxing partner who was he talking about? JM. who does boxing together at the same centre? jm but who has posted a video of some regular boxing practice saying jk thought him even tho jk said he was just having fun with him? Tae.

Who has been with jk on his b'day (confirmed) multiple times? Jm but has he ever posted their pictures celebrating jk's b'day ever despite jm being physically present there? Never. even when in 2022 he posted jk's pic from his home jm literally zoomed in and cropped hell out of it and if it wasn't for jin asking jk we wouldn't even know jm was there and only AFTER jk confirmed jm being there, jm posted the pic so he doesn't care what shippers wants because if he did he would be doing that but i do remember tae posting a full pic of tae and jk on his b'day even tho jk posted the cropped one. Who was it who started live when vmin were outside jk's house? tae and who asked to cut the live and not bother jk who was doing live on his own? Jimin. who was who started live at jk's home when vhopekook were there? tae but i do remember jk saying he wasn't planning on starting any live but tae did so himself and did jm start any live when he was at jk's home? never. Jm was with jk when jk did live after his GMA perfomance yet jm didn't involve himself in jk's live and let hi do his own live even though we all already knew jm was in NYC itself cause even the host of the had asked jk. but i do remember Tae entering a suchwita episode of jk even when jk went "Can you leave we're filming something important?". it wouldn't have taken much from jm to get in jk's live but both lives jk did in NYC jm never once interfered or asked jk to start a live when they were together in NYC.

Who was it that went on live talking about calling jk and about the food? but when fans asked jm if he went to eat that dish he asked for jk and jm said no mind you he could have skipped the question not choosing to say it in the first place but he chose the question and answered honestly because he quite literally doesn't give a fk about what shippers want to hear and what not. How many times has tae gone live and mentioned ONLY jk and the deep the live? too many that everyone in the fandom was making a joke about it as to how tae's always talking about jk. But i do remember jm asking jk why was he even watching his videos (jm's videos in that 1.5 hrs live jk did) and that he should have slept.

Jimin is serving with jk for more than a year now and not even a single picture he's posted of him with jk and i can guarantee them that had it been any other pair serving in military together (pair excluding jm because he wouldn't have posted with anyone but maybe that other member have posted with jm who knows but never jm) we would have seen their pics together from military. we have all members posting their pics in uniform except jm, jk and yg. if jm actually leans into FS he would have posted once every now n then but guess what? he doesn't give a shit about that.

Also they should be glad that it's jm who gives updates of him and jk from MS (tho it's nothing much that we're doing well and talking) because if we leave it upto jk then man gives updates like "As soon as i finish my work i go to jimin hyung, we go a little away from other soldiers and sing out loud ", "me and jimin hyung sang this song almost Daily while showering together". they said jm saying he talks to jk before going to bed is somehow him sexualizing so what does jk saying all that says about him if jm was sexualizing? lol. they should be glad jm doens't give updates like jk because it's easy for him to say that jk comes to me after he finishes his duty but he never said like that when jk himself said it. they should decide who's updates they prefer then because jk has a habit of telling things in detail.

Saying jm leans more into fanservice and jk is considerate of tae's feelings when jk himself has described jm's charm is him being "considerate" like?? jk himself thinks jm is the most considerate. he literally said smth like being on his own is tae's charm (something like that) while jm's charm is being considerate when asked about member's charms. so if jk thinks jm is very considerate how is he the one leaning in FS while jk is setting boundries? Literally contradicting members' own words. mind you jk himself thinks that jm's Actions is something he takes from jm as in that part of jm is seen in jk. when someone asks jk why he's so considerate he says it's because he's following jm meaning he follows jm's consideration. The man who links all of his good doings immediately to jm, how are they claiming that same person doesn't know boundries? again contradicting with what jk actually says and thinks about jm.

By making these comparisons I'm not accusing tae of doing anything but I'm just showing them that if we sit here and start using their logic maybe before jm they'd have to start question tae IF they wanna go with their logic. They should be glad jm ain't what they project onto him.

Wow anon,

When you lay everything out like this, it becomes quite clear who could actually be considered to be “catering” to shippers…if we were to follow their own logic, that is.

I’ve always believed that the members have every right to mention, post about, or visit each other as much as they please. No part of me would ever see that as catering to shippers because, at the end of the day, they know each other intimately, and we, as outsiders, do not.

Given the way you’ve outlined things in your ask, it’s almost unbelievable that Tae does all of this, yet these same people still insist that Jimin is the one pandering to shippers. It’s even more absurd when you realize that the very people accusing Jimin of catering to shippers are the same ones who have Tae as their favorite and actively ship him with Jungkook. Can you imagine the uproar if Jimin had done even a fraction of what Tae has?

From the way they talk, it’s clear that they’ve never truly listened to what the members say. Actually, scratch that—they do listen, but only when they can twist the members’ words to fit their own narrative.

It’s funny what you uncover when you take a closer look at their history.

Here, we can all clearly see and hear Jungkook explaining that Jimin is good at leaving him alone after he asks once or twice, whereas Tae will come back about thirty times. The members all agree with him on this. Based on that, who seems to struggle with respecting boundaries? Who appears more inconsiderate of Jungkook’s feelings?

Absolutely nothing Jungkook said here or anywhere else implies that Jimin disregards boundaries or is some insensitive, selfish person who ignores the emotions of his friends. But I can bet most Taekookers haven’t even seen this and those who have, have likely convinced themselves that the members only said it because it was their “job.”

You know, because apparently, it was all part of some grand plan. According to them, the members were tasked with portraying Bang PD’s favorite, “Mimi,” as an angel. Cite anything from the members own words that contradicts their beliefs, and they’ll immediately claim the boys were lying, following a script, or just “doing their jobs.” Because, of course, Bang PD founded BigHit not to create music or cultivate artists but to sign idols into contracts that require them to spend their careers propping up Jimin’s image. Forget singing, dancing, and performing…their real job, apparently, is to sit down and say the nicest things about Jimin so the world can view him as an angel🙄