#and always kind to me and they seemed like they at least liked me a little bit

[alotofpockets]

Finding comfort | Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader

Where you're always very timid, but open up to Katie

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

You had never been great at new environments. It always takes a long time before you are able to warm up to people you don’t know. So, being called up to Arsenal’s senior team and being surrounded by a whole new team definitely wasn’t an easy task.

The first few weeks had flown by, but you hadn’t really spoken to any of your teammates, besides giving short answers to their questions.No one seemed to mind that you were so timid, never pushing you. 

Behind your back they had spoken about it, not in a bad way, more so that they were worried that you weren’t comfortable here. They tried in different ways to make you feel more included, hoping you would start opening up more, but despite their best efforts not much changed. However, your teammates were patient with you, and you were grateful that they weren’t pushing.

“Good morning, are you ready for training?” Kim said as she sat down besides you in the locker room. You smiled timidly and nodded. Your team captain smiled and quietly got ready besides you. Around you the room was buzzing with the chatter of the rest of your teammates.

Training today was a gym session. You enjoyed gym days because for the biggest part of it, you were working individually. While yes football was a team sport, so that part was very important, the individual work made you feel more comfortable with the new environment.

You started with biking, as that was usually the equipment that everyone liked the least, so you would have the space to yourself. After a few minutes of cycling, Katie walked up. “Hey Kid, mind if I join you?” In response you nod. She sits down on the bike beside you and starts cycling with you.

After a few minutes of silence, Katie turns her head your way with a serious expression. “I’ve got an important question for you.” You turn to her, worried about what she might ask. Katie McCabe wasn’t known for being serious, so this must be something big or important.

“Do you think cereal is a soup?” You look at her in disbelief, definitely not having expected that question at all. “That’s your important question?” Your lips curl up slightly. “Yes, I need to know where you stand on the matter.” She says just as seriously as she started.

This time your smile breaks out and you start laughing. Katie smiles proudly before she joins in on your laughter. “So,” She says when the laughter dies down. “Is it soup?” You shake your head. “Definitely not and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

Katie gasped, her face filled with shock. “Not soup? Unbelievable. I thought you had better judgement, Kid.” You felt the walls you had up crumble bit by bit every time she joked around. 

The sound of your laughter caught the attention of a few of your teammates in the gym. They looked at the intersection between you and Katie with smiles on their faces. Who would have thought that Katie would’ve been the one to get you to open up more?

“I will let you off the hook this time. Everyone is allowed one wrong opinion, and you have just used yours.” You shake your head with a chuckle. “Good to know.”

The two of you continued chatting throughout your bike session. The team occasionally looks over, happy to see that you are feeling more at home. Wondering what kind of magic Katie used to get through to you. 

“Do you maybe want to join me and toss the ball around?” Katie is quick to say yes, happy that you want to continue opening up to her. “Right behind you.” She says as she gets stopped by Leah on the way.

“I’ve never seen her like this. How did you get her to open up?” The blonde asks full of wonder. Katie shrugs, “I told you that I am funnier than the rest of you.” She walks off proudly, leaving Leah standing there dumbfounded.  

You had picked out the weight that you wanted to use right as Katie walked up. “Alright, show me what you got, Kid.” She stood a few steps in front of you and got ready to catch the ball. You held it at chest height as you squatted down and in your movement up, you threw the ball her way. She did the same movement before tossing the ball your way again.

Just like on bikes, the two of you were chatting. It seemed like you were getting really comfortable with Katie, and there was just one thought on the older players' mind. “Why me?” She asked out loud before thinking.

“I eh, I mean you’re opening up to me and I was wondering what made you do so with me?” She threw the ball back your way. You catch it with ease and as you squat down you answer her question. 

“You just made me feel safe.” You toss the ball back but Katie is so caught by surprise with your answer that it just falls to the ground in front of her. “I win.” You say with a proud smirk.

“Yeah yeah, well done, Kid.” Katie tries to shrug off the loss, but ultimately she’s feeling very good, because she had created a safe space for you without even realising it. Growing up with younger siblings had unintentionally prepared her for youngsters joining the team.

“I want a revance on this next training.” You shake her reached out hand. “Deal, but don’t be upset if I beat you again.” Laughter erupts in the room. Your cheeks turn a bright red when you realise everyone was looking at you. 

Katie notices and puts her arm around your shoulder. “Get used to it Kid, that humour will get you far with these girls.”

-----

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[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : a series of unfortunate events . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil sighs, scrunching his eyes shut, which proved to be more difficult than it appeared with the mud mask that he applied over half an hour ago still on his face, currently drier than the gluten free bread he bought last week. He melted into his couch, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom settle into his otherwise restless body. 

Before he knew it, he found himself mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking through the self proclaimed critique’s 30 to 60 second reviews on his new movie or the finale of some show he was in, for a hit of dopamine. Which clearly wasn’t working, as each video was the same thing washed over and over again repeated with new synonyms bundled together to sound authentic (Which it rarely was) and of course, there was those few criticisms here and there, nothing uncommon. 

Vil lays his head back, scrolling some more, “Influencer Tartaglia joins the new soon to debut boyband, D!CKZ—”, he shuts his phone and tosses it to the side carelessly . . Did he ever mention his distaste for influencers moving into the entertainment industry? . . It makes his blood boil, just a tiny bit, since most of the influencers tend to ruin it for a lot of genuinely talented and lesser known actors out there, not to mention they’re so-called talent is usually mediocre at best. 

And he could go on and list all the reasons why influencers do not deserve a spot in the spotlight with the elite, and they may all seem reasonable at first, but it’s a cover-up for the real reason.

He feels some weird sort of envy, towards those individuals who put in zero effort and somehow make it, and get all these big protagonist roles right away, and how they aren’t criticized for their faults or terrible acting skills, just because they have a huge built fanbase of delusional fangirls ready to defend them from the get-go. 

Or how they aren’t criticized when they look less than perfect on screen, although he appreciates that current age viewers can acknowledge that it’s only human to get acne or maybe a pimple here and there, he didn’t meet the same fate when he was younger . .  It just makes him feel bitter . . and he’d never speak those feelings into existence, but deep down he does feel a bit hurt by the shift, it sometimes makes him feel like all those previous breakdowns were for naught. 

Vil snaps out of his pity party for one, getting up and stretching, going into the bathroom to wash off the mask before it dries out his skin (It probably already has), burn-out has hit him hard, and as much as his love for acting runs-deep, he’d rather take a break before his audience starts noticing his shift in acting. 

Which is why he agreed to hosting the show in the first place, he wanted to switch up his career, for awhile at least, he’s taking a break from acting but doesn’t want to directly leave the industry, because it’s difficult to fit right back in place once you leave, as there's always someone who could come and steal your position, and maybe even do better . . that’s why this industry is so hard to survive in, and as pitiful as it sounds, he’s practically married to his work, he can’t exactly risk it, in peace. 

Vil dries his face with a towel and then moves to grab his moisturizer, when his work phone rings. 

“Hello, this is Amanda from Descendants. Inc. We talked before reguardinging ‘Late nights & Flashing lights’ . ” . . . “So, due to a multitude of reasons, we’re kind of in a time crunch to get the premiere launched, by the end of this month actually . . . but, we’ve received confirmation on who’ll be co-hosting with you, Y/n L/n!” 

“ . . . excuse me?” 

“This must be such a shock, but Y/n has actually been our top pick for this role, and the internet seems to really want to see the two of you on-screen together, considering your screen presence, I honestly think you two will be a perfect match for the show.”  

“I—”, Vil’s voice was hoarse as he tried to mentally wrap around all the information that was just dropped, “Ah—That’s time, we’re so excited to see you on set next week.” . . . “If you’d like, I could send you y/n’s number beforehand, so the two of you could talk things through?”, that seems to snap him back to reality, as the professionalism seeps right back into him, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

The doorbell rings, informing Vil that his takeout that he ordered about two hours ago had finally arrived, but he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Drinking is completely legal at 18-19 in my country, so I'm just putting that over here before someone tries fighting with me about it (This has happened before), also Vil is currently in his late 20's.

Don't expect everything to play off of Vil in-game, since this is placed like a decade into the future, so things will be changes and messed around with to fit the current age and setting more. <3

Profiles | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

— taglist ♡ ; @well-look-at-this , @honkai-freak , @kingnem10 , @immahuman , @katzline , @pebble-bb , @meigalaxy , @lordbugs , @crowbird , @yuus3n , @azriel-sama , @reivelmin , @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 , @eliza-be-t-h , @feverish-dove , @yejiswifex , @l0v3r666 , @cece-cherries , @frootloopscos , @abell2029cluster , @ephemii , @alienlatteinspace (you'll be tagged in the comments due to tumblr mention issues)

♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)

© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [ii]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Tara mistakenly puts herself in a relationship she thought would be full of love.

word count: 1822

warnings: (Tara's POV), mentions of abuse, violence, angst, swearing

a/n: ok hi guys this is mostly Tara's POV and won't really be focusing btwn her and r's relationship. the next part would probably be the last one too but im always up on doing head canons for this pic. anyways apologies for any inaccuracy for this part, if ya'll have any feedback or suggestions feel free to dm me or send anonymously.

part [i] |

Tara never meant for any of this to happen.

She first met Amber a year ago, at a party that invited everyone from both Blackmore and Woodsboro High. Tara went with you at first, but you quickly got caught up in the chaos of the event, drinking with friends to drown your frustrations over the rivalry, leaving Tara to wander through the crowd alone.

Tara glanced around the room, feeling a bit out of place without you. It was her first real taste of a high school party, but somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. You were missing. Some were celebrating—laughing, dancing, and basking in the glory of their win over Blackmore—while others attended this party just for an excuse to get drunk, but Tara wasn’t feeling the same rush. That was when she noticed Amber standing off to the side, holding a drink and watching the crowd with a knowing smile.

Amber had been a wild card that night. No one expected her to show up, least of all Tara. But Amber’s reputation preceded her—everyone knew she was sharp, calculated, and, most importantly, she knew how to play the game. She wasn’t just there to celebrate; she was there to get ahead.

Tara’s initial impression of Amber was a mix of admiration and curiosity. Amber seemed to hold herself in a way that suggested she knew something no one else did. And that intrigued Tara, even if she couldn’t quite explain why.

As Tara wandered away from the chaotic center of the party, she ended up near Amber. The two of them started talking, mostly small talk at first—what they were doing after high school, the thrill of their victory, and the peculiar tension between Woodsboro and Blackmore. Tara found herself drawn to Amber’s cool confidence, the way she seemed to have everything under control.

But what started as a simple conversation slowly shifted into something deeper. Amber had a way of making Tara feel like she was the only one in the room, even when there were dozens of people around. Tara’s mind kept drifting back to the feeling Amber gave her: like maybe she could be something more, something beyond the quiet girl who never quite fit in.

And so, things began to unravel.

Tara never meant for it to go this far. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, just a casual connection. But somewhere along the way, Amber made it clear that she wasn’t just interested in Tara’s company—she had a plan, and Tara was a part of it. Tara hadn’t realized how deep Amber’s intentions went until it was already too late. Now, Tara was left to figure out how she’d let herself be pulled into something so complicated—something that, in hindsight, was far more than just a meeting between two people at a party.

Everything was bliss when Tara and Amber started dating. She was kind, gentle, and attentive—the kind of person who made Tara feel understood and like the most important person in the world. It felt like a dream. Amber would send her thoughtful texts, surprise her with little gifts, and always knew how to make her laugh. Tara felt safe, seen, and loved in a way she hadn’t before.

But as time went on, Amber’s true colors started to surface—slowly, almost imperceptibly at first.

It started with small criticisms. At first, they were disguised as concern, little comments about Tara’s appearance or habits that Amber claimed were meant to help her. "You know, if you ate healthier, maybe you wouldn't feel so tired all the time." Or, "I don’t think that outfit is really doing you any favors." Tara tried to brush it off, telling herself it was just Amber wanting her to be her best. But the comments grew sharper, more frequent.

"You always mess things up," Amber would say when Tara made a mistake, like forgetting to pick up groceries or missing a text. "Why can’t you ever get anything right?" Her tone wasn’t playful anymore. It was condescending, even cruel. Tara began to feel like she couldn’t do anything without Amber pointing out what she’d done wrong.

The verbal jabs escalated when Amber started to get possessive. At first, Tara thought it was just a sign of how much Amber cared. But Amber's jealousy started to feel suffocating. She'd ask Tara where she was going, who she was with, and why she didn’t tell her first. "You don't really need to hang out with them, do you?" Amber would ask, her voice dripping with insinuation. It would have been even worse if she had hung out with you. It was as if you were Amber's breaking point. "They don’t even care about you like I do." "I’m better than them; why are you still hanging out with them?"

Tara found herself apologizing constantly—for things she didn’t even understand; she would say sorry just to voice the tension. 

It was always the same cycle: Amber would get irritated for no reason, her voice would grow cold and sharp just to insult Tara. "You always do this; you always make everything more difficult than it has to be. Why can’t you just do things right?". The next day, Amber would be apologetic, trying to console Tara, making her forget everything that happened the day before. She said all the right things, but Tara couldn’t ignore the knot of anxiety that lingered in her chest. She had a way of twisting everything, making Tara feel like she was always in the wrong, walking on eggshells.

And soon, the emotional abuse turned into physical fights. One day, Tara had dinner plans with Mindy when Amber confronted her again, "You always do this," she snapped. "You always choose them over me." Her voice was cold, venomous.

Tara tried to explain, but Amber wasn’t hearing it. "You think you can just leave whenever you want? No, you’re not going anywhere." Before Tara could react, Amber grabbed her by the arm—tightly, her fingers digging into Tara’s skin. "You’re hurting me, Amber; let me go!" Tara shouted, trying to pull away, but her grip tightened. She twisted Tara’s arm painfully, forcing her to sit down.

Tara’s heart was racing. She didn’t recognize this version of Amber—this wasn’t the woman she had fallen in love with. The love they once shared felt like a distant memory, replaced with anger, control, and fear. Tara was terrified, but she didn’t know how to escape. Before the day ended, Tara made up an excuse to Mindy that she couldn’t make it. She thought about her friends. Chad, Mindy, You. How will she be able to explain herself? She’s embarrassed and ashamed of herself if she were to ever face either of you. 

There was once when Amber picked up Tara from school when she saw her talking to you, both of you giggling like lovestruck teenagers, like you were in love with each other. And Amber simply couldn’t have that. Once both of them got back to Amber’s house, she gripped Tara’s arm, demanding an explanation. "So you’re just whoring around your school with someone else? Especially them? You’re just a slut, aren’t you?" Amber seethed, her nails digging into Tara’s skin, leaving another mark on her skin. Tara stood there, tears streaming down her face, knowing no matter what she said, it would be dismissed, twisted, or ignored. "You’re mine, Tara. I’m not letting you go anywhere," were the last words she heard before being shoved down the stairs, undoubtedly leaving bruises all over her body. She knew the next day Amber would whisper apologies, giving her kisses and hugging her in an attempt to make her forget.

Tara began pulling away, distancing herself from you, from Chad, from Mindy, from Anika—everyone. It wasn’t that she didn’t care anymore, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Amber’s wrath falling on them, especially you. She couldn’t risk you getting hurt because of her, couldn’t risk Amber turning her anger on the people she loved. The more Tara tried to protect her friends, the more she isolated herself.

Every moment felt like a calculation; every text, every phone call, every plan made without Amber’s approval felt like a risk. Tara started to feel like a prisoner in her own life, like Amber was always there—watching, waiting for her to slip up, to make a mistake.

Amber had a way of making her feel like she was constantly under surveillance, always one misstep away from an explosion. Tara couldn’t shake the feeling that Amber was breathing down her neck, that every time she laughed too loudly with a friend or spent too much time away from her, Amber would find out. And when Amber found out, the consequences would be brutal. Tara had learned that the hard way.

It was like living in a constant state of fear. Tara’s heart would race whenever she saw a message from you or heard from one of her friends. She hated that it had come to this—that Amber’s control over her had stretched so far that she couldn’t even speak freely without worrying about the fallout.

But more than anything, she hated that the woman she loved, the woman she had trusted, had become someone she feared. Every day, she woke up wondering how much longer she could live like this. How much longer until Amber's control over her—and over everyone she cared about—was too much to bear?

Amber’s behavior spiraled even further. The emotional abuse had crossed into physical violence, and Tara was left unsure of where it would go next. Amber would apologize, beg for forgiveness, and then turn around and hurt her again. Tara began to feel like she was losing herself. She was afraid of what might happen if she tried to leave, afraid of what Amber might do. 

Though she would still post pictures of them together, of them being in a happy relationship for people to see online, the reality was far different. Behind the carefully staged photos, the smiles seemed forced, the laughter hollow. She knew the posts didn’t reflect the late-night arguments or the hidden marks on Tara’s body. Yet, there was comfort in the illusion, in maintaining a facade that everyone else admired. It was easier to keep up the pretense than to confront the discomfort of what was really happening—of the slow unraveling that no one could see. The attention, the validation from likes and comments, provided a temporary sense of relief, a distraction from the gnawing uncertainty she felt every time she looked at Amber when the camera was off. It became a blurred line for Tara to interpret what was the reality and the sick image she created of her and Amber online. 

But one thing was clear: this wasn’t love anymore. And Tara didn’t know how much longer she could stay in a relationship that was slowly suffocating her.

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

a/n: next update might be awhile bc exam season is coming up and im a chill girl that needs to rest so you'll probably hear from me in like 2-3 weeks :p

[littleones-thoughts]

🖍️ My partner! I think I mentioned it in passing but it wasn't a serious enough conversation so I dunno if he remembers ;-;

❤️ I haven't thought about it but maybe Hayden from Fields of Mistria would be a really nice caregiver.

🩹 My head gets like...light. I get giggly and tend to talk "small". Sometimes words are hard but not always.

🧡 It isn't often, but it's pretty consistent to whenever I see my partner IRL and he uses a specific tone of voice or calls me nicknames like little one.

🍬 I didn't know it was a thing! Ooo I'd love recs!

💛 I don't really have a specific age (that I can tell??) maybe around kindergarten or first grade? I'm unsure.

🧸 I'm an only child and I regress.

💚 I heard over and over that I was an 'old soul'.

🧩 I would love a sippy cup! I'm unsure of if that's weird. But I sipped a drink a little out of s straw and have been obsessed with getting a sippy cup ever since.

💙 Not sure. I haven't had a chance to explore a lot. Maybe babycore? I'd have to do research!

🍭 I joined Tuesday! So like two days 🫣

💜 I'm not able to regress enough to have one but I think it would be Minecraft or just my "big" obsessions like MHA.

🍼 I think I'd like to make new memories. I haven't had the chance to purposefully do it yet but I think I would just want to make new memories.

🖤 Unsure? Had some friends a while back but I am unsure if I can count them because I don't know the label they used.

🪀 I tend to around my partner. Especially when I'm sleepy.

🪁 I think more traditional? Because the last time it happened I was watching Minecraft let's plays like I did when I was little and got immediately floaty lol

🎨 Paci! I like to chew on things and suck on things so I think I could benefit from one.

🍬 I am unsure of what that is.

🦋 Sometimes I am, but sometimes I think too hard about it and feel shame. And worry if I can be a successful adult with a career if I want to explore this part of me. Silly, I'm sure.

🧚🏼‍♀️ A way to relax. Life sucks, and I grew up too fast. I've recognized it's possible that may be the reason why I regress. I was always so mature. Even at the ripe age of six I was judging and annoyed at my classmates for just being kids. I feel like I didn't get to be one- at least not fully.

🧦 I'm too new to have any opinions! So far everyone seems really nice though!

🦇 You can do that!?

🌸 I don't have any particular headcanons.

🐈‍⬛ I'm probably the majority actually. (Unsure though)

🧃 Puppy!!

🐇 I only have one person I want and trust to- but I'm too nervous to ask them. I'm worried they'll find it weird.

🎀 I don't think I regress to a specific age. Or if I do I don't know what that age is.

🎮 I don't know. I daydream near 24/7 so it would probably be easy!

🌈 Werewolf! But the kind that just turns to human or wolf at will!

👾 When my partner calls me something like little one or coos at me because I did something cute according to him.

💭 Sitting on the floor and coloring while he sits on the couch. Having a sippy cup on standby of course.

🌙 Agere Ask Game!!! ⭐

🖍 Who is the first person you told/would tell about your headspace?

❤ If you had a fictional caregiver/little who would it be?

🩹 What do you experience when you regress? (i.e fuzzy feelings, motor skill or speech struggle, etc.)

🧡 How often do you regress or try to regress?

🍬 Do you read agere fanfiction and if so, about who?

💛 What school grade (if any) would you be in according to your headspace?

🧸 Are you an older sibling who regresses/caregives or a younger sibling who regresses/caregives?

💚 Were you considered an "old soul" growing up or were you more "childish"?

🧩 What was your first piece of agere gear or what would you want as your first?

💙 What's your regression/caregiving aesthetic? (kidcore, babycore, altcore, etc)

🍭 How long have you been apart of agere tumblr?

💜 What are you obsessed with right now in your headspace? (sanrio, sharks, bluey, etc)

🍼 Do you include your personal nostalgia in your regression/caregiving or are you creating new memories?

🖤 Have you met any other regressors/caregivers in real life?

🪀 Have you ever regressed in front of someone or has someone ever regressed around you?

🪁 Is your headspace affected more through traditional or alternative regression? (bottles & cartoons or horror & thrill)

🎨 What's a piece of agere gear that you really want to have/try?

🍬 Have you ever experienced vent regression?

🦋 Are you comfortable with your regression/headspace?

🧚‍♀️ What is age regression/caregiving to you?

🧦 What's something you like & don't like about the agere community?

🦇 Have you ever regressed in a dream?

🌸 Who do you headcanon as a regressor or caregiver? (fictional or real)

🐈‍⬛ Do you think you're represented enough in the agere community? (poc, boys, under 20/over 30 yrs)

🧃Which animal best represents your headspace?

🐇 Has it been or was it hard for you to find a little/caregiver?

🎀 Does your headspace match the gear you use/want? (i.e. regresses to 10 years but loves pacifiers)

🎮 Do you struggle to play pretend or are you super imaginative?

🌈 What mythical creature would you rather be? (Hybrid, Fairy, Dragon, etc)

👾 What's the quickest way to get you in your headspace?

💭 What's one thing you often daydream about doing with your little/caregiver?

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den

Chapter Summary - Y/N Is urged to meet with some of the other women involved in high society to gain some close friends and she decides to drag Mia with her. Y/N starts to realize the boys may not be as friendly as they seem.

warnings: mentions of murder, Seonghwa injures reader (MDNI)

Series Masterlist

It had been almost two weeks since I had started living with the boys. Yunho and Jongho were still pretty stand-offish, not really bothering to make conversation unless absolutely necessary. Yeosang however, had gotten better.

I figured he was shy from the start, but after I thanked him for filling my wardrobe he started asking simple questions like how my day was. It wasn't a lot, but it was progress.

Hongjoong and San had backed off a little, not actively seeking me out like the remaining three. Mingi, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung were a lot more social, Wooyoung would come and find me the second they'd come home during the workweek to tell me everything before I left for the Society, at least what he could tell me anyway.

Seonghwa's gifts hadn't stopped, however, they had broadened from simple Gardenias (Though he kept fresh ones on the dresser in my room for me). Mingi often played piano after dinner, sometimes, he'd play something from the show or past shows just to see me dance.

He always smiled so brightly when I would.

Seonghwa was the one who suggested I go to a ladies brunch over dinner. I'd glance around at the others who made no objection.

"Ladies Brunch?" I ask.

"All the women that our allies are involved with get together once a month for a ladies brunch. You should go." Seonghwa explains, bringing his fork to his mouth.

"Are there many?" I ask.

"Normally there's around 10 or 11, depending on who's available," Seonghwa says. "You could bring a friend if you like, maybe Mia?"

I nod at the mention of Mia. It would be good to see her again and catch her up on everything in person. Besides meeting other women, hopefully around my age, would probably do me some good. Maybe some of them could explain what the men actually did.

And that's why I agreed.

"You think any of them are like... Murderers?" Mia asks me as we sit in her family's limousine. "I mean, they're involved in families known to be involved in the mafia so.."

She wasn't wrong. After I had invited her, Mia had one of Marks's friends dig up some information about some of the women we'd be meeting. Jeno Lee was always pretty good at that.

Kazuko Takanashi was the fiancé to the CEO of the SVT Association, Choi Seungcheol. A large modeling and fashion company much like the one my father owned, their rival if you will. She was beautiful and worked as a model for their more expensive pieces. I assumed her husband-to-be would only allow it as such.

Park Minji was born into high society, her father running a car company. She was dating one of the leaders of SKZ Foundation, a military company, Seo Changbin. She didn't do much, but there were rumors that she was an excellent hacker.

Those were the only ones I could remember from the list, but I knew there were so many more. I recognized some of the companies, a little surprised some of them were still running.

We arrived at the club we were to meet at, one owned by the husband of one of the women we were to meet, Nari.

"Mia, don't say anything rude," I warn, getting out of the car.

"I'm not promising anything." She quips, following me.

We head inside, it's empty aside from the small group of maybe six women sitting at a long table, laughing and drinking already. I glance at Mia who looks back at me, gesturing with her head to go towards them.

I hesitate before approaching slowly. Kazuko was there, and Minji too. They looked so much friendlier in person. I clear my throat, causing one I didn't recognize to look up. She offers me a kind smile before standing.

"You must be Y/N!" She says, approaching the two of us. "And you're Mia Hua right?" Mia nods in response.

"I'm Kate. Come sit." She says, gesturing to some empty seats. "It's just us today, the others couldn't make it."

I take a seat beside Minji, her dyed blonde hair shimmering in the overhead light. Mia sits on my other side, shifting in her seat. Kate starts to introduce everyone, and my memory comes back to me; Minji, Jaehwa, Asami, Kazuko, Liv, and Kate herself. Easy enough.

I knew Asami was the oldest based on what I remembered. She was born into high society much like Minji however, she runs her own company, a tech company alongside a friend of hers, Taeyong.

Jaehwa was the younger sister of Nari, I knew she had joined the military for two years because she 'wanted to scratch an itch'. I could tell it paid off, her tan skin and muscular frame seemed oddly attractive.

Liv was a part of the TBZ Association, a law firm. I could tell she was studying me the minute I sat down, her eyes unmoving and unblinking as they stared me down. Like a predator hunting prey.

"So, ATZ Corp chose you huh?" Jaehwa asks, her voice deep. "I heard you're a dancer."

"Ballerina." I correct, noticing the quirk of Asami's eyebrow. "I'm a Ballerina for the Ballet Society."

Kazuko takes a sip of her drink. "I went to one of your shows, you're quite good." She says, glancing at me. There was something comforting about her words, yet I kept my guard up.

"What's the show?" Minji asks, her Australian accent thick.

"Coppèlia I'm pretty sure." Kazuko answers, leaning back in her seat.

"Never heard of it." Jaehwa says, elbow now propped up on the table.

I listen to the women talk. They seem friendly enough, and at least three of them are anyway. Asami looks at me before finally speaking.

"Something you wanna say?" She asks, her eyes boaring into mine. "If you have questions you can ask."

A part of me felt relieved she'd said that, opening a door for all the questions I'd had piled up to spill out. Kate gave me a reassuring look, nodding slightly for me to speak.

"I'm... It's been a long time since I've been in this life." I start. "It's all so different now.. And they guys won't tell me anything no matter how much I ask."

"It was like that for me too." Kazuko says. "I was born in the bronx. When I met Seungcheol, none of his friends or even him would tell me anything about what they did even though I grew up on the other end of it all."

I listened to her. These women had come from all different parts of society. Some are working their way up, and some are fighting to survive even now. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.

"When Seungcheol asked me to marry him, I told him no unless he told me everything." Kazuko continues. "Eventually, he caved when he realised I was serious."

"So I threaten them?" I ask.

"Definitely don't do that!" Liv laughs, finally speaking. Her voice was sweet. Maybe she was just shy. "ATZ don't take nicely to threats."

"So what do I do?" I ask.

"Ask us." Kate says, reaching a hand over. "We won't hide anything from you."

I nod, taking a deep breath before glancing at Mia, who seems a little too invested now.

"Be honest with me. Do they hurt people?"

"Obviously, it's the mafia." Asami says. "We have to kill to keep those close to us safe. Greed is evil, and those who let it consume them will always try to take what isn't theirs."

I stare at Asami, and the bluntness in her tone causes goosebumps to coat my skin.

"The boys kill, yes, but most of the time it's business or for protection reasons. There's some corrupt companies out there, ones that kill the weak for sport. Like Belluxe." Kazuko spits, my head snaps to her hefore quickly composing myself. My fathers company? Killing for sport?

"After everything that happened with Aurora, I'm surprised they decided to let another one in." Jaehwa says, causing me to perk up at the name.

"You knew her?" I ask.

"Of course we did." Liv says, her eyes softening slightly. "I miss her sometimes... She was always a voice of reason."

"She was a fool." Asami says. "Stuck her nose in something she shouldn't have. That's what got her killed."

My blood ran cold at Asami's words. Her tone was so indifferent, like she was angry.

Aurora was killed? Because she was investigating something? But what?

"Asami!" Kate scolds.

"It's the truth!" Asami barks. "Nothing would have happened if she'd just-" Asami stops herself and lets out a sigh before standing. "Excuse me." She mutters, heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

"You'll have to excuse her." Minji says quietly to me. "She cares a lot more then she lets on."

"Aurora was killed?" Mia asks. I'd spoken to her about Aurora the night of my first day living with ATZ. She was just as curious as I was.

"She was investigating some suspicious activity even when Hongjoong told her not to." Jaehwa says. "She got too far in and ended up getting herself killed."

"What was the suspicious activity?" I ask, glancing at Kazuko.

"Do you remember the Cobra?" She asks us. Mia and I nod. The Cobra was a serial killer who caused some grief to a lot of businesses years back. He'd kill runners, undercover workers, and sometimes even leaders in gruesome ways to get his message across. His tell; all of his victims were found with poison in their system.

"But The Cobra disappeared when we were kids?" Mia questions.

"He came back. Briefly." Kate says.

"Well, there were rumours." Liv corrects. "That's what Aurora was investigating."

Aurora was trying to catch a serial killer and was killed when she got too close? Why didn't the boys tell me this? Was there more to it?

"Enough about Aurora." Jaehwa murmers as Asami returns.

The topic shifted rather quickly.

It was almost 6pm when I returned back to the estate. Seonghwa was sitting in the living room, waiting for my return.

"How was it?" He asks, not looking up from the book he was reading, Frankenstein.

"Enlightening," I answer, my tone indifferent. I was upset at them. I'd learned more from women I'd just met in a few hours than the 8 men I had been living with for almost 2 weeks.

The girls had told me all about their work, giving me some idea of what was going on in the basement as well as outside of the house that I probably would never see.

Seonghwa recognizes my tone and sighs, marking his page in his book before setting it down on the coffee table. He stands, moving in front of me now, staring down at me with a cold look.

"How much do you know?"

"Enough," I answer, staring back up at him, I hear footsteps thud to a stop behind me, whoever it was listening closely. "Funny how I can trust complete strangers more than the men I'm supposed to be with."

"If you don't trust us, why did you come back?" The voice, Hongjoong, says from behind me. I don't jump at his voice, only turning to look at him. I had nowhere else to go. The answer was as simple as that.

On the second day of my stay, I woke up to all my things from my old apartment tucked away in the corner of my room. Wooyoung had gone to collect my things and speak to my landlord that night, at least that's what he said.

"You know why," I say, my blood boiling at the teasing grin on his face. Here we go again, being laughed at. Maybe I should have stayed at Mia's tonight.

"Dinners ready!" Wooyoung calls out from the other room. "Is Y/N home?" He asks, poking his head out from behind the connecting archway.

"You could have told me she was killed." I blurt out, my gaze on Wooyoung but my words are aimed at all of them. "Did you think I couldn't handle it?" I say, looking up at Seonghwa once again.

"They told you?" Seonghwa asks, his voice low.

"Yes, because unlike you they recognize that I can handle myself." I snap, poking his chest. Big mistake. He snatches my wrist, gripping it tightly. My eyes widen and I try and pull away, Hongjoong and Wooyoung make no move to step in.

"You listen to me," Seonghwa says, his voice coming out as a growl. The gentleman I knew was long gone now. There was something sinister in his eyes as he looked down at me, the size difference suddenly feeling a lot larger the tighter he held my wrist. "You won't ask any more questions about what happened. You will not go investigating it yourself and you certainly will not ask others. That includes our housekeepers." He says quietly, his voice low and threatening.

I glance at Wooyoung, his face void of emotion as he watches from the archway. Shit.

"If I find out you have, you'll never step foot from this house ever again. Say goodbye to Mia, the Society, everything." He warns.

"Seonghwa." Hongjoong finally speaks up. Seonghwa's knuckles are white from how tightly he was gripping my wrist. "Let her go. She's gotten the hint." Hongjoong says, taking a step forward.

Seonghwa lets go and I pull back, bumping into Hongjoong. I jump away from him, backing up into the foyer. I stare back at them with wide eyes, clutching my wrist as they stare back at me. A sick feeling overcomes me as I mutter out three words before scurrying up the stairs.

"I'm not hungry."

Mingi had come upstairs to check on me a few hours later. He carried a plate of food in his hands and his expression adorned a pouty expression. Surprisingly, I let him in.

He sets the plate of food down on my dresser before taking a seat on the loveseat by the window.

"Wooyoung told us what happened." He says, holding his hand out and glancing down at my wrist. I hesitate for a moment before letting him take it. His touch was gentle as he examined the light bruise, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't think Seonghwa would ever hurt you.."

"Yeah, me too." I huff, looking down at the ground. "I guess I was wrong to trust you all so quickly."

"Trust is human nature, it's who we gift it to that could come with consequences." He says softly, moving his hand from my wrist and holding my hand in his. I feel some butterflies flutter in my stomach as he does. "I'll beat him up for you tomorrow if you want." He says, causing me to snort.

"There's no need." I laugh, squeezing his hand which makes his eyes sparkle. At least I still had Mingi. I let out a soft sigh, moving to sit beside him. "Why are you guys so hesitant to tell me about her?" I ask, staring at the floor.

"Some of us want to," Mingi says honestly. "But it's a sensitive topic." He adds.

"I understand that," I say. "But that doesn't mean I'm not curious. Why can't I look into her death? I know it has something to do with The Cobra." I look at him and he looks at me.

"Why do you say that like it's personal?" He asks, his deep voice breaking through the brief silence.

I hesitate again for a moment. "Because it is," I say. Maybe if I'm honest with him, he'll be honest with me. But I didn't want to tell him the whole story, it hurt too much to even think about.

Then the realization hit me.

That's why they didn't want to talk about Aurora. It was too personal. It brought feelings to the surface that they wanted to forget about. It made sense now, and a feeling of guilt settled in my stomach.

Mingi must have picked up on my conflict of emotions, as he cups my cheek to bring me back to him.

"I won't stop you from finding answers." He says softly. "But that doesn't mean the others won't try. And I can't protect you if that happens."

I nod in response. It's like he knew already, my mind went back to the night we first met. He'd known I grew up in high society, did he know what happened to Chaluai?

"Thank you," I whisper, our faces not resisting the magnetic pull.

"For what?" He murmurs, not pulling away as he glances down at my lips.

"For understanding," I say as our noses brush.

Then, our lips met. The kiss was featherlike like he was scared to hurt me any further. When we pull away, he rests his forehead on mine briefly.

"Give them time." He says softly, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. "They'll stop taking you for granted eventually."

With that, he stands, pulling away from me slowly as if a part of him was telling him to stay.

I watch him as he heads towards the door, offering him a goodnight before he shuts the door behind him, leaving me in the silence of my thoughts once again.

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[qqueenofhades]

I bought your 'Empire' the other day (which I am excited about; I haven't started it yet), but somehow completely missed that you had written historical fiction, and about the Plantagenets, my favourite historical dynasty, so I'll be jumping on that.

I was wondering if you had recommendations for historical fiction set during the Plantagenet reign? I've tried Sharon Kay Penman and unfortunately didn't get on with her writing, which is a shame as I've heard good things about her series. I know Philippa Gregory has several novels set during that time period, but her books seem to be verging on bodice rippers, which isn't what I'm looking for. Was just curious if you had any suggestions for well-researched fiction set during the Plantagenet reign.

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for several days (my apologies) largely because I was trying to think of a more helpful answer for you. Medieval historical fiction is VERY hit and miss for me, not least because it is often written by people who, uh, are not historians and thus have Certain Ideas (TM) about what the medieval period is like. Or they want to use various aesthetics, or they want to make some (usually questionable) point about how women were treated in the past, or they just go whole-hog on total nonsense. As an example of all of these things at once, let us all stare in horror at this recently-released book description together:

(The book is called the Stone Witch of Florence, by the way. I took one look at this and ran screaming. WHY.)

A stone witch?? So she channels the power of gemstones like a modern-day Instagram healing crystals influencer??? BUT ZOMGZ WITCHCRAFT. In the middle of the Black Death. "Unorthodox cures" you say. But they also need holy relics for protection, and I totally trust the author to understand about medieval hagiography/cult of the saints. Totally. We definitely won't get some half-baked comparison between Sekrit Women Magical Gems Which Really Work and Dark Ages Church Superstition Holy Relics Which Are A Fraud, or.... something??? And our nobly mistreated protagonist will super definitely be a real physician if she gets these and never ever accused of witchcraft (which LET US ALL SAY IT TOGETHER IS AN EARLY MODERN THING!!!!) Because medieval medicine was just a bunch of gemstone vibes anyway! Makes total sense!

...my head hurts.

Anyway, while not all examples are this egregious, the point is: I love historical fiction, but I almost always can't read it when it's set in the medieval era. I read Sharon Kay Penman a while ago and enjoyed her stuff at the time, though I have assorted gripes with it on a stylistic/historical level. While Philippa Gregory does have real academic credentials, she likewise has gone totally down the bodice-ripper alternate-history crackpot theory Secret Women Magic version of things, which is... fine if that's your jam, but just like you, it is not mine. I thus have to read fiction which is set in other periods or which I know less about or where at least I am more capable of turning off my brain and accepting things for the sake of the story. So as you see, I unfortunately don't have many useful suggestions for you in this field, since the kind of medieval historical fiction that I like to recommend is, say, The Name of the Rose. Which is terrific and written for someone of a professional medievalist's level of knowledge, but is not exactly everyone's cup of tea when they just want something fun and easy to understand.

I am, of course, happy to give other book recommendations if you'd like to broaden your request, and I'll do my best to think -- but yes! As I said, I wish I could be more helpful here. I shall persist.

(Also, of course: thanks for buying EMPIRE! I do hope you enjoy.)

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[childrenofcain-if]

D + MCs who do ballet? Classic they were a punk, they did ballet trope 🤭

How would it go if D somehow stumbled into MC dancing alone at a studio?

the music echoed softly through the studio, a haunting piece by rachmaninoff played on piano, filling the wide, empty space like smoke. it wasn’t the kind of music meant for performance—it was private, introspective, full of cascading notes that fell like raindrops on the skin.

you stretched your arms upward, your fingers trembling slightly before melting into the next move, a slow arabesque. the floor beneath your feet seemed alive, absorbing your every step and breath, your body moving as though the music was stitched into your veins.

the studio smelled faintly of resin and varnished wood, and the walls were lined with mirrors that reflected you in endless variations—an infinite string of dancers chasing one another in ghostly synchronization. the barre stretched along one side, but you weren’t touching it. you were in the center of the room, spinning lightly on the ball of your foot, every motion deliberate and delicate.

you were a swan, or at least that’s what you told yourself, gliding across the floor with a mixture of grace and control. but there was something raw beneath the practiced movements. dancing alone always brought out a part of you you couldn’t quite name, something wild and unpolished that made your heart beat a little faster.

outside the studio, D was grumbling to themself, rifling through their sheet music with a kind of irritated intensity. their classical music class had been predictably boring, full of lectures about bach’s counterpoint and unnecessarily complicated homework assignments.

“this is ridiculous,” they muttered as they stuffed the papers into their bag. “who cares how many times he modulates in a fugue? it’s like professor khan wants me to suffer.”

they were halfway down the hallway when the faint sound of music drifted to their ears, a piece they didn’t recognize but which tugged at something in them nonetheless. it wasn’t from their class, wasn’t the droning lecture about sonatas or fugues. this music was alive, sharp and sweet like glass catching sunlight.

D slowed their steps, distracted, and when they passed by the glass window of the studio door, they nearly walked into the wall.

they stopped. then they stepped back.

their gray eyes widened as they caught sight of you moving across the studio, your body arching and spinning in time with the music.

you weren’t even looking at the mirrors, weren’t watching yourself at all, as if you didn’t need to see your reflection to know you were beautiful. your hair was pulled back, a few strands escaping and sticking to your neck, and your face was focused, serene.

for a moment, D forgot to remind themself to breathe.

you didn’t look real, not in the fluorescent light of the studio or the sterile smell of the building. you looked like a painting, like something fragile and otherworldly that didn’t belong in the same space as the chipped tile floor or their scuffed sneakers.

“god, they’re unreal,” D muttered under their breath, and then snorted at themself. “get a fucking grip, rook.”

but they didn’t move away. instead, they opened the door slowly, slipping inside without a sound. you didn’t notice them at first, too lost in the dance, and D leaned back against the wall, their arms crossed as they watched you. their usual smirk softened into something unreadable, their practiced nonchalance dulled by the quiet awe in their expression.

when you finally stopped, mid-pirouette, and turned toward the mirror, you caught sight of their reflection. you jumped slightly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

“D?” you said, your voice breathy with surprise.

D pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward you, their smirk reappearing like a reflex.

“don’t stop on my account,” they said, their tone teasing but warm. “i was enjoying the show.”

your cheeks flushed, though you tried to hide it by rolling your eyes. “flatterer. how long have you been watching?”

“long enough to know i could never do that spinny thing,” D said, gesturing vaguely to the space where you’d been dancing.

you blinked at them, caught off guard, before laughing. “the spinny thing? you mean a pirouette?”

“sure, whatever it’s called,” D said, stepping closer. “i kind of wanna learn it.”

you hesitated, eyeing them skeptically. “you’re not exactly the most... graceful person, D.”

“hey,” they said, placing a hand over their chest in mock offense. “i’ll have you know i’ve got excellent rhythm. i just… don’t use it for dancing.”

you snorted but relented, gesturing for them to follow you to the center of the room. for the next few minutes, you tried to teach them the basics—how to balance, how to turn without tripping over their own feet.

D was, predictably, terrible. they stumbled more than once, their movements awkward and stiff, but you didn’t seem to mind. you laughed, the sound light and unrestrained. honestly, it didn’t seem like D cared much about looking foolish in front of you.

“i think i’m doing it,” they said at one point, wobbling precariously as they attempted a turn.

“you’re definitely not,” you said, laughing so hard you had to clutch your stomach.

“harsh,” D said, grinning despite themself.

but then, as you were correcting their stance, their hands brushed yours, and something shifted. the laughter died in your throat as D turned to face you fully, their gray eyes suddenly serious.

“you’re fucking amazing,” they murmured, their voice low.

before you could respond, they cupped your face in their hands and kissed you, their lips soft but insistent against yours. you froze for half a second before melting into the kiss, your arms wrapping around them.

the barre was behind you, cool against your back as D pressed closer, their hands slipping from your face to your waist. the kiss deepened, and for a while, the rest of the world fell away—the music, the mirrors, the studio. it was just you and them, tangled together, desperate and unthinking.

when you finally pulled back, breathless, you looked at them with wide eyes.

“what’s gotten into you?” you asked, half-chuckling.

D smirked, their forehead resting against yours. “i just couldn’t resist you, my sweet swan.”

you rolled your eyes, though there was no heat behind it, and pulled them into another kiss. when you finally broke apart again, D leaned in close, their breath warm against your ear.

“for the record,” they murmured, “i’m a much better performer in bed.”

you groaned, pushing them away playfully. “now you’ve gone and ruined the moment.”

“and yet, you’re still with me,” they said, grinning.

you shook your head, grabbing your bag and slipping your hand into theirs. together, you walked out of the studio, the music still echoing faintly behind you.

[flwrkid14]

A Ghost of a Chance: Tim Moves to Amity Park

Tim Drake never expected to end up in Amity Park.

It wasn’t the kind of place you’d move to voluntarily—not if you valued normalcy, peace, or, you know, not being attacked by spectral entities on the regular. But when Danny asked—his voice soft, eyes hopeful—Tim couldn’t say no.

Amity was Danny’s home.

And maybe, just maybe, it could be Tim's too.

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

At first, it wasn’t bad. Tim had seen worse. Gotham had prepared him for everything, right? But there was something about Amity Park that made the shadows seem deeper, the nights colder. The constant hum of the town’s protective shields, the flicker of green in the sky—like the city itself was watching.

Danny blended back in seamlessly, slipping into old routines like he’d never left.

Tim… didn’t.

The ghosts were different. Gotham’s rogues, at least, followed patterns. There was a rhythm to crime, a predictability to chaos. Ghosts didn’t play by those rules. They came and went as they pleased, driven by grudges older than time. One day they’d fight beside you, the next, they’d haunt you.

Tim couldn’t get a read on them. Couldn’t strategize. Couldn’t feel useful.

And the more time passed, the more he felt like he was sinking.

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

The bats haunted him too. Every time his phone buzzed, he half-expected to see a message from Dick or Bruce, maybe even a snarky text from Jason. But it was always quiet. No calls. No emergencies. The silence felt heavier here, like it pressed against his chest.

Danny had Amity. He had the support of people who knew him. Tim was just... there. A shadow on the edge of Danny's world. Everyone knew Danny—Phantom, their hero. They didn’t know Tim. Didn’t know who Danny was to him. More than that, they didn’t seem to care.

Tim couldn’t shake the feeling. Replaceable. At least when Jason had thrown that word at him, Tim knew there was always something he could work on to feel needed. A case to solve, a system to hack, a mission to plan.

With Danny, there was... nothing. No crises to solve, no skills that set him apart. No place where he fit.

Danny didn’t need him.

And maybe that was the worst part.

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

They started drifting. Danny would leave in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts Tim didn’t understand. He’d wake up alone in a bed that felt colder by the day. The quiet wasn’t the comforting silence of the Cave or the stillness of a stakeout. It was empty. Lonely.

Tim wasn’t built for this kind of stillness.

One night, he followed Danny. Watched from the shadows as Danny fought a ghost—a brutal, violent storm of green energy and ice. Danny won, of course. Danny always won. But when he turned back, hair white and eyes glowing, something flickered. Something inhuman.

Tim realized, he doesn’t need me.

He confronted Danny that night. “Tim, you can’t follow me out there.” “Why not? You think I can’t handle it?” “It’s not that—” “Then what is it?” Danny’s eyes softened. “This place… it’s dangerous. The things I face, they’re not like Gotham’s criminals.” “I know danger, Danny. I’ve lived with it my whole life.” “That’s not the point.”

Tim’s voice cracked. “Then what is?”

Danny didn’t answer. And Tim didn’t press.

He stayed because leaving felt like admitting defeat. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, he wondered if love was enough. If Amity Park would ever feel like home. If Danny’s ghosts were more than just spectral enemies—if they were the distance growing between them.

He’d jumped too quickly, left too much behind, trusted too blindly. Maybe he’d wanted to believe that leaving Gotham meant he could start over, that he could belong to something simpler. Easier.

But it wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easier.

Tim missed the bats. Missed the chaos, the noise, the feeling of being needed. Here, he felt like a shadow—an echo of a life he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back. And if he stayed too long, he wasn’t sure there’d be anything left of him. He'd become just another ghost haunting Amity Park.

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 11. roomie (half-written)

a/n: and random idol landed on yujin (idk much ab her but hopefully enough for this to be accurate... hopefully)

the sound of the door creaking open pulled you from basically every thought racing in your head. you turn to see a girl stepping in, with a bag slung over her shoulder and a drink in hand. she freezes mid-step as she catches you in her eye, blinking in surprise.

"oh!" she says softly, though her voice carries a slight edge of surprise. "i didn't think you'd make it today."

"yeah, um, surprise?" you offer a shy smile, stepping aside from where you had been standing by your side of the room (the side with literally nothing present). "i just got here yesterday... stayed at a, um, friends place before arriving. you must be my roommate?"

"looks like it," she says, recovering quickly. she walks over and plops down on the edge of her bed. "i'm yujin, ahn yujin."

you look down at her extended hand before reaching over to shake it. her smile was genuine, and it eased you a bit.

"nice to meet you, i'm l/n y/n."

she tilts her head slightly, eyes scanning you a bit before she mutters, "this feels kinda real now."

you laugh softly, nodding as you sit on the edge of your bed. "yeah, it's kind of surreal for me."

there was a moment of quiet as yujin began sipping on her drink, and you began to unpack the bag beside you a bit. the silence wasn't that uncomfortable, you've been through worse, but it hung in the air like a question waiting to be asked.

"so," yujin starts after a beat, glancing over as you take out a pair of slippers. "are you nervous?"

"oh for sure," you admit with a slight chuckle. "you?"

"same." she says, laughing lightly. "but i'm kind of excited too. it's a very weird mix."

you nod, sensing the tension in the room dying down. "where are you from?" you ask.

"daejeon," she answers, "kinda far... so it's a bit different. i've never been so far away from home, but i got a nice scholarship here."

"that's funny, it's the same for me." you explain, "i'm actually from new york city, so this is really... different. i've been a couple times but... living here now? and university? it's kind of insane to me still. i got a full ride, couldn't turn it down, especially at a place like yonsei."

her eyes widen a bit, genuine curiosity sparking in them. "new york? wow. that must be amazing..."

"it has its moments," you respond with a shrug. "it's loud, crowded, and overwhelming sometimes. seoul seems a bit more peaceful, at least where i've been to in the past and yesterday."

yujin laughs at that, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "i guess every place has its ups and downs."

"i guess so."

the initial awkwardness completely melted away as you both talked about your hometowns, your expectations for college, and little things like favorite foods and your love for music. yujin had an easygoing way of speaking, and you could tell she was the playful type as she reminded you of some of your own friends. she was always attentive even when you weren't completely facing her as you unpacked, smiling at you in a way that made you feel like you'd known her a little longer than just a few minutes.

"i feel better now," yujin admits at one point, looking up from where she was folding her own set of clothes. "meeting you, i mean. i was worried i would get some super serious roommate, or someone really hard to get along with -- really just someone pretentious."

""well... am i any of that?"

"oh, far from that. trust me."

you snicker, "i'm glad. but i might be like that if you touch my snacks..."

"what? i would never. well... i do love snacks, so it depends." she gasps in a sort of mock offense, making you giggle.

"right... we'll have to see." you tease. "i think we're off to a good start for now. if you take my snacks, i might have to take yours back though..."

masterlist ; previous — next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @ryujinshotsexywife @sonotcopingatall @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy

[scrumptiouskoalahottub]

☁️Invisible| George Clarke

Summary: you have a crush on George, but you don't believe you're good enough for him, little do you know you're just his type.

It wasn't unusual that you were the last person someone picked, whether it be for a teams in games or dates; you were the black sheep. You were outgoing, a bubbly person but was shy at the same time. You'd recently joined content creating and started on TikTok, expanding your taste palette for new ideas you came across a guy name George, he posted funny skits and impression videos, although you weren't the type to do those things, his content inspired you to create something new. You decide to follow him.

You post a haul of your shopping trip to b&m, showing your followers the new things and dupes along the way, you were an eye for bargains and anything similar to the expensive price tags. Racking just over 70,000 followers in just a short few months you were invited to a pr event with White Fox. A brand that you'd never personally purchased from but you did love their products, you accepted through your management and agreed to vlog/promote the brand at the event.

You were so excited, your first Pr opportunity. Tears form in your eyes from joy as you make a video "hey guys i have some exciting news! I've just been invited to my first pr event with White Fox, I'm going to vlog my whole experience and break it down for you guys along the way, I'm so grateful to be able to have these opportunities thanks to you guys watching!" You say with beams of happiness as you sign off the video and upload it.The event was 3 days away so you had time to prepare. You placed your phone on charge whilst you did the laundry, a time you like to take off social media and block out the outside world, although it's your job.

After your small detox you open up your phone, lots of TikTok notifications flooding through with congratulations when two stood out to you.

@georgeclarkeey liked your video

@georgeclarkeey started following you

Your eyes widened in shock, a creator you took inspiration from had followed you, you wasn't sure why all your content being girly related but non the less you were buzzing. You responded to a few comments on your video for a while as you sipped on an iced coffee, when a message popped on your phone.

@georgeclarkeey: "hey sorry for the random message, I saw your video about your pr event and I just wanted to firstly congratulate you on it, you're doing really well! Also I am aswell invited to the event, wonder if you'd like to meet there? Don't want it to come across weird haha"

Your mouth ran dry, a sense of shock and excitement overboard your body, how could someone like George Clarke want to meet me you thought, you were never people like George's cup of tea, the lonely kid in school who'd eat alone and now a big creator asks to meet you. You hesitate to reply incase you make a fool of yourself, strumming the confidence to reply.

You: hi! aw thanks for that, I appreciate it! It's been a shock to the system to say the least haha, I'd love to meet up, I'd know nobody there apart from my management so you'd do me a solid!"

You smile into your phone like a schoolgirl with her first crush, George was undeniable attractive he had a big girl following and everyone went crazy for him. You were quite fond of him yourself to say the least. @georgeclarkeey: "no problem at all, it's always a shock when you get your first but honestly the only way from here is up, would you like to meet at the event or beforehand? A coffee or something?"

You: "a coffee sounds great, let me know where and I'll be there, thanks for being so kind"

@georgeclarkeey: "perfect! I'll text you a coffee shop closer to the event so we won't have far to walk afterwards also it's my pleasure! Nice to see some other varieties of content surfacing, your contents lovely to watch"

Shut the front door. THE George Clarke telling you your contents lovely to watch? You're kidding. The world seems fake right now, so many emotions rushing through you.

You: "Thankyou George, it means a lot, I've took a lot of inspiration from your videos to try and open my confidence up a little, so you could say your contents helped me in ways to boost my career"

You continue to chat, getting to know eachother.

-

Day of the White fox Event

Your nerves were setting in, your first event meeting new people and also meeting up with George. You opted for a some casual clothes, baggy mom jeans and a white crop top with a flannel shirt over the top. Your makeup as basic as normal, a touch of brow gel, a pop of mascara and some skin tint. Nothing major. You make your way into London to meet George, he'd text you the address beforehand, a 2 second walk from the venue. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders as the London breeze hit your skin, a mix of crisp and warm air. Just as you get to the coffee shop your stomach sinks, what if he doesn't like me? Thinks I'm weird? The battles of your overthinking brain looms and looms as you step in, there he was, blue eyed and handsome.

His eyes shoot up as you walk through the door, a warm smile makes it way over his face "hey, glad you could make it" he says arising from his seat to hug you, a mixture of mint and aftershave flooded your nostrils as you embraced him for a hug "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, how are you?" You reply sitting down "ah I'm good, busy but good, yourself?" He replies "same really, not so much as busy as you probably but yeah, I'm excited" you smile, his gaze wandering down to your lips as you spoke as shivers tingle down your spine. You talk over coffee for a while before heading to the venue.

"You ready?" He says with a warm smile opening the door for you "I think so" you chuckle nervously "you'll be fine, don't worry I'm here if you need anything" he says with a reassuring tone which wrapped around you like a warm blanket of safety. You give your names to the people at the desk and collect your lanyards, you pull out your phone to introduce your video.

"Hi guys, I've just arrived and the nerves are kicking in, I'll try to film as much as I can for you all, trying to sink into the reality of it all along the way and make new friends which I seem to have-" you were interrupted by George poking his head in "she's already made one friend, well should I say I practically befriended her" he chuckles placing a hand on your shoulder as he walks to grab a drink. You put your phone away, saving the footage, George Clarke in your video would be a big shock to your fanbase for sure.

The night goes on and you meet new creators, have interviews with some labels and tell everyone on how you got into influencing, the night couldn't have gone much better; George was there to reassure you when you felt nervous and just guide you through the whole experience which you were thankful for. There was an after party, but you opted not to go.

"Leaving so soon?" George asking raising a brow, "yeah sorry, parties aren't really my thing, Thankyou for tonight George I appreciate it a lot" you say smiling "we could go grab a drink elsewhere if you wanted, just me and you?" He says, you were taken a back by his response that he wanted to leave the event, to be with you, in a strange turn of events you'd never imagine something like this would happen, you weren't up to beauty standards nor were you a model, why did he want to go for a drink with you? "You don't have to, I wouldn't pull you away from your friends" you reply "you're not, you're my friend and I want to have a drink with you" his sweet smile returns, a gaze of sincerity plastered over him like a genuine interest in you loomed inside him "okay, maybe just a quiet one" you say as he nodded, you said bye to everyone and left, scoping out a bar to indulge in.

You chatted for a while at the bar, like you'd known eachother a life time and not just a few days, you got on like a house on fire, taking in eachothers interests. It's like no matter what you said, did or how you acted George would always match your energy and it comforted you. After a while you call it a night, it was getting late. You walk out the bar as you book an Uber home

"I've really enjoyed today, Thankyou" you say with a soft smile "me too, normally I hate pr just because of the social interaction, but you've made it easy to bare" he says laughing "well atleast I could be of some use" you retort, silence looms over you as George stares at you for a little longer than normal "can I kiss you?" He says nervously, your eyes widen "really?" You say shocked "is that okay?" He says "yeah-just nobody's ever wanted to kiss me" you say nervously "why not, you're really pretty, funny and easy to get a long with" he says brushing his hand against yours, with a soft smile as he cups your chin and places a soft kiss onto your lips, a magnetic shock goes through you like it was something you had longed for a while, a connection that felt so right. You pulled away and stared at eachother for a minute as you sink in the reality of what had just happened. You exchange numbers and arrange to meet up again, turns out your worrying was for nothing, you were just his type.

-

🫶🏻

[synthetickitsune]

To Save The World ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x gn!reader Genre: angst Summary: Joshua made his choice. Now he has to commit to it. The world must go on. And for that, he has to make you go. Word count: 1.6k Warnings: blood, knives, reader dies A/N: inspired by @chugging-antiseptic-dye's post here bcs you can't say "joshua slitting your throat" and expect me to be normal, and also it's highly recommended to read this as well

The night falls. The stars twinkle above, yet the light seems dimmed. The world must be asleep. Perhaps it might be as kind as to close its eyes to what he’s about to do. If there’s one thing the world’s always been good at, afterall, it’s turning away from those who need its help the most. There's a duty to them that he always carried on his shoulders. He’s always tried to make up for what the universe couldn’t do. Now that he’s in need of help, however, who will save him? 

He never thought that burden would eventually end up being his own demise.

Joshua’s breath comes out as thin clouds that soon evaporate into nothingness. Just the same as him. Every breath is a thought, a memory, a part of him. He wills them to be. He needs to send them all off, so that he can at least hope to be saved one day. He hopes the wind can carry all of him far enough that he won’t be tainted. 

He spent what felt like hours standing under scalding water. As if filth can be washed ahead of time. 

Anyway. 

Washed as best as he could make it and free of all scent, he feels naked. A blank sheet. Now all that’s left is to cleanse himself of himself. Not a man, but a hero. A fragile puppet dancing however fate and duty pull its strings. Empty. To be filled again with a different substance. Transformed. A copy of himself only on the outside.

The cold makes him feel frozen in time. If it doesn’t start ticking again soon, he will surely lose his mind. But perhaps that’s an option he’d gladly take. There is little chance of that happening soon enough, though. No, it’s not going to happen until it’s too late.

He hears lone footsteps slowly approaching. Bile rises up his throat. He closes his eyes and takes a couple of long, deep breaths. He tries to keep them even. To keep the tremors out of his breathing at least. He can’t be heard. He has to keep standing but his knees can barely support him. If only the darkness of the alley could swallow him. If only the wall behind his back could turn into goo. Trap him like an insect in tree sap. Keep him trapped in amber so that everyone could witness his cowardice that even outweighs the sin he’s about to commit.

‘Hero’ is a funny world. A joke.

In the end, he couldn’t save everyone. Forget everyone. Just one person.

The sound gets closer. Have you always walked with a skip in your step when you were rushing home to him? The bile again. His stomach twists. He has to force himself to swallow. The street remains empty. Everything else aside, Joshua can’t let anyone see his face ever again. He won’t ever look at his face again. His hands feel clammy. He can’t breathe. He can’t—

The knife almost slips from his hand. He only sees your side profile for a split second. He can’t double over. Not now. He’s already a coward hiding in the shadows. So it feels like a cruel joke, the sight that his eyes let him see. It’s like the clouds part and you’re suddenly bathed in moonlight. Are the stars taking you before he can? He only has fractions of a second to pray it is so. To hope his hands will pass right through you. That the moon saves you and cradles you in its cold silver arms.

It’s with practiced ease that he reaches from his hiding spot. It’s with hard-earned skill and speed that he grabs you and pulls you back into the shadows, away from the light that exposes his weakness. He ensnares you in the darkness with him before you can make a sound or register what’s happening.

With tender strength he holds you against his chest. His arm wraps around your waist perfectly, pinning your arms to your sides. It should be like this. You belong with him. He should always hold you. What does heaven have that lying with you, your head above his heart and his arms around you doesn’t provide? Your body fits against his like you were made for him. And lately he believes you were, just to make your fate that much crueler. To start his punishment long before he knew he’s going to be punished.

You can’t make a sound with his hand covering your mouth. He wishes you could. Blame him. Hate him. (Love him.) Your struggling is useless. He’s always been stronger than you. Could always easily pin you down. Why can’t you pout about it now? (Please hit his chest. Please call him mean. Please laugh and pull him down for a kiss.)

Your efforts double when the glint of the blade catches your eye. He has already messed up. He shouldn’t have held you one last time. It comes so naturally to him, though. Instincts can’t be overridden. He had to. He tries to make his voice deeper, unrecognizable. To his own ears he doesn’t sound like himself when he shushes you. You sound every bit like yourself when you whimper. (Can’t he hold you tighter? Can’t he pull the blanket over you like he’s always done and shield you from the rest of the world?)

In his memories, it’s always your hair, your cheeks that he caresses. Your lip under his thumb. As he moves his hand lower though, he discovers that the skin on the vulnerable column of your throat is surprisingly soft too. (Did he not explore your body enough? Will this be one more regret to haunt him day and night?) Your breathing, your heartbeat, he can feel it all with his touch. It’s so fast. Like the little bunny’s that you promised to adopt with him. The one you won’t make a half-orphan because you never brought it home. Your eyes look like prey animal’s caught in a trap too.

His thumb strokes over your windpipe. You deserve that. You deserve something more intimate. You deserve something warmer than the cold steel of the knife. You deserve him. Not a stranger.

But he can’t. He’s a coward. His strength isn’t as tender now. It’s desperate. He doesn’t want to let go. You don’t make a sound.

(Please whine. Please tell him to let go. Please call him clingy. Please tell him to let you hug him too.)

His hand stops before it can dip under your shirt. His fingertips barely brush against your collarbone. How selfish he can be. You must be so scared - a stranger holding you, a stranger touching you. Joshua knows if it was him you saw holding a knife so close to your face, you wouldn’t be scared at all. 

(Smile at him. See him.)

As if sensing his hesitation, you move. Just one lone, weak attempt to break free. Just a jolt of an animal that doesn’t wish to be pet.

He leans his head against yours. (Hurt him. Do it. Please.) You stay still. For a blink of an eye that lasts an eternity, you settle and relax. Like he’s holding you while you cook dinner. Like he’s comforting you after a long day. Like you’re watching the storm outside from the warmth of your home. Like he’s saying goodbye.

Like you know what’s coming.

It’s with an order, an impulse to his nerves that doesn’t, that can’t have, come from his own brain and free will that the knife in his sweaty palm turns. Your breathing picks up more. The blade presses against the side of your throat and he—

Joshua!

The shriek pierces the silence of the night.

It rains. Crimson splatters on the ground.

But all he hears is your voice.

Did you recognize him and called his name in shock? Betrayal? Understanding?

Were you calling him for help?

Did you want his name to be your last word?

The knife clatters on the ground with echoes of his name, of your voice. Nothing else is real.

His hand clutches your throat and presses against it with force. He’s trying to pull the split tissue together but it won’t listen and the blood keeps pouring.

The warmth encompassing his hands must be your hands grabbing his. Slipping your fingers between his.

You’re just standing in the shower. It’s hot water rolling down your bodies. You’ll laugh. You’ll scold him for simply holding you instead of washing up.

What’s the point if his hands are forever dyed red.

No shower will ever be enough.

And your life keeps trickling down his fingers and pooling under his feet.

He collapses with you.

His head falls, forehead resting against yours.

(Look at him.)

He holds you like you’re dancing. Your silly wish to look at him after he twirls you. To lean back into his arms and look up at him.

So look at him. 

There’s nothing interesting to see at the back of your skull.

He sobs, but he only hears your voice. Only feels the claws of guilt and pain tearing at his throat from the inside.

Did you know? Could you tell he held you? Did you know you’re not alone? That you don’t have to be scared? 

Look at him. 

Tell him.

The world did not end with a bang. Nor with a whimper. The world did not end at all that night.

But there, in a dark alley where blood pools on the cobblestone, a life and a soul were crushed to save it. 

[cheegu3]

Hi there! I love your new piece on tbz new 🔥 can I request a jealous yandere non con (or dubcon) smut with enhypen sunghoon? Perhaps he can be a prince and y/n a maid. As for the premise, it could be him harboring interest in you despite already being bethroted to another princess and you never returning as much as even a glance. It all kind of exploded when he saw you hanging out and laughing with the gardener (who was your childhood friend). It riled him so much to see you not only talk but laugh with someone as lowly as a gardener and yet spare not even a glance towards a royalty like him. And so he drags yn to his chambers, hoping to seduce yn and when failed proceeded to eff the hell out of her for hours. Thank you in advance 😸

hi, thank u sm, also sorry for the wait! I LOVE this idea ur a genius are u kidding???

I love prince fics & I got super invested pls ;-; in honor of their amazing comeback <3 I did do a little twist tho based on your prompt, I hope that was okay c:

warnings; non-con / dub-con, yandere themes, self victim-blaming, mentions of hanging & bones, possessiveness & jealousy, sexual content, swearing, non-con kissing, sunghoon being super pushy; sexual harassment & mentions of it, misogynistic undertones, allusions to baby trapping, sickness, wrong use of royal terms

pairing; sunghoon x f.m reader

wc; 3.8k

prince!sunghoon - mine only

Sunghoon hated any other girl but you. Any time he laid his eyes on them, he was filled with such disgust he couldn't help but let show on his face. His delicate features, the ones fitting of a prince, twisted into the most cruel face as his mood soured the longer he was forced to look at them.

His lips curled in spite. But then a small movement would cause his gaze to shift, to you. The change in softness didn't go unnoticed by the others in the room. They shifted uncomfortably, hoping the king and queen hadn't noticed who their little prince was really in love with.

You cleared your throat and mentally prepared yourself, hands hovering near the curtains. One last glance at the sleeping man in the bed was made before you dragged them to the side.

''Good morning, sir. ''

Despite the cold winter weather outside, bright sunlight streamed in through the wide windows, casting a big glow on his face. He fluttered his eyes open slowly, blinking as you became clearer in his view.

He closed them again, and you grimaced as he smirked, you were his favorite maid. He felt happy that his parents had noticed that at least. Even if they didn't notice how obviously deep his feelings for his little maid actually went.

'' Good morning, '' he mumbled, his voice raspy from sleep.

You went over to the dresser and pulled out his clothes for the day which you placed on a stool. Then you turned the tap on in the bath and hurried towards the door.

But like always, he was quicker than you. In an instant, he had jumped to his feet and ended up between you and the door.

'' Where are you going? ''

You swallowed down your irritation. '' Sir, you do not need me to help you bathe. ''

You sounded formal, and your words were polite, which always made him smile in amusement. But there was an edge to your voice. Quite admittedly, you were sick of him playing this game every single morning and also the other games he'd try with you ever since he seemed to have taken a special interest in you.

The other maids fawned over him, they would've done anything to be in your place now. You had taken the job out of absolute necessity, with your mom being sick and your siblings too young, you desperately needed money.

You had tried to keep your head down and not catch any attention. However, it seemed that those who tried not to get noticed always did.

'' But I do, '' he said slyly. '' You wouldn't want me to go to my mother now, would you? ''

There it was, the threat that always came after you defied his wishes. You had a hard time hiding your true feelings, somehow especially in front of him. His eyes flitted over to your clenched fists; you had to dig your nails into your palms for you to hold yourself back.

'' No, sir. Of course not. ''

He nodded, like the thing had been settled peacefully, and then walked over to the now full bath. You flinched away when he casually took off his only clothing and slipped in.

You inhaled shakily. With wobbly legs, you kneeled at the bath, trying not to make eye contact with him. You could feel his predator-like eyes on you, practically could vision the satisfied look on his face too.

Rapt knocks on the door followed by the shrill voice of his mother saved you. '' Sunghoon! You need to hurry, we have guests arriving soon! ''

You looked down into your lap where you had busied your hands by rolling up and then flattening your maid dress and smiled to yourself. You didn't really care if he saw it, if anything you wished he would so he could see that not everyone was so eager to be in the presence of the beautiful prince.

He rolled his eyes but managed to answer his mom in a normal tone. '' Almost done. ''

You got up and felt light on your feet when you laid out the bathrobe and moved the clothes near the bathtub. He'd be busy today. You weren't sure if that was the reason his mood all of a sudden soured, or if it was because of what he was doing today.

'' No need to look so happy just yet. I'll still have you all evening. ''

Your face fell, which only made him light up again. He chuckled and got out, draping the bathrobe around his broad shoulders.

For some reason, he paused before getting his clothes on. You felt your stomach turn even though you had no idea what he was thinking of.

But you found out soon enough when he pushed the robe off again and looked at the towels stuffed under the basin. You met eyes with him, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from sneering out in the open.

'' Dry me. ''

'' What? '' you gasped.

He had never asked you to do that before. Even though he was generally horrible and extremely annoying, this was taking it a step too far; judging by his face, he knew that too.

There was no way you could refuse a prince however, so you pulled yourself together and approached him, your hands crinkling the towel.

You turned him around and lightly dragged it over his back. Your eyes met in the mirror above the basin and you quickly looked away when he turned to you.

At the speed of light, you dragged it over his chest and arms and then crouched down, your head turned towards the ground with cheeks red in humiliation while you dried his legs.

You got up, hoping he hadn't seen your embarrassment, and turned away as he finally pulled his clothes on, being able to take the breath you'd been holding in at last.

'' Your Highness? '' another voice came by the door, it sounded like one of the other maids.

'' Coming, '' he rolled his eyes.

You felt like you had been saved by him being in a hurry, instead of stalling he walked right out without playing with you any longer. Outside, two other maids, one guard, and his mother stood, all looking stressed and impatient.

'' They are already here, '' his mother leaned in to whisper panicked.

You walked at the very back but still got a good look at the guests she had been referring to. A beautiful young girl who seemed to be about your age stood between an older male and female, presumably her parents.

Your eyes went over all of them, and from their good looks to their straight postures and the fine material of their clothes, anyone could tell that they were noble born just like the royal family.

One of the younger maids told you that they were another royal family and that they had traveled far to see if Mr. Park was a good match for their princess daughter.

Having heard this, you studied the young girl again. Her attention seemed to be fixed on Sunghoon while the parents exchanged some stiff, small talk.

This day in particular had been set up for them to go over all of the necessary things while the princess and the prince got to know each other, of course while being chaperoned.

Luck was only partly on your side today. You could already feel intuitively who he'd pick before he even turned to you, that sneer on his perfect lips again.

The other maids patted your back, saying it was an honor but you had to bite down the sour expression that wanted to show and politely followed after them.

A guard walked a few paces behind you, just to make sure no harm could be done to the prince. As the pair stopped by the fish pond you found yourself bored and looked curiously at the guard.

He caught your eyes and you hurriedly looked away. However, that was all he needed. He came up to your side and joined you in leaning against the big tree.

'' Sorry, I needed a rescue. ''

You looked surprised. '' You did? ''

You somehow hadn't really thought of the grueling work the guards must do every day, only feeling quite sorry for the maids as you all were in such close contact with the royal family.

'' Long days and not much happens, '' he shrugged and looked towards Sunghoon and the princess.

'' What do you think of this union? ''

'' It's...an ideal match. Maybe not what the prince desires but if he wants to be king, he'll have to learn that he can't always have his way.''

You felt like you already knew the answer deep down, yet you still asked. '' What do you mean? What does the prince desire? ''

He turned to you. '' Surely you must know. He wants you. ''

Your breath hitched and you had to place a hand on your stomach to make yourself take a few deep breaths.

'' I-uh, '' you cringed.

What was there to say to that? You could deny it even if it was obvious, but what was the point in doing that?

'' Why? '' was what you settled on at last, it was something you had wondered for a really long time.

The guard chuckled and looked down at the frost-covered ground, then he gestured towards them.

'' See that girl? ''

'' The princess? Yeah, '' you laughed in disbelief.

'' How do you think she feels about our prince? Just by looking at her.''

You focused on the princess for a moment. She was smiling and laughing loudly. Her heart-eyes rarely left him, even when silence passed between them.

'' She...likes him. Finds him attractive and charming, I guess. ''

He hummed, '' That's exactly why. ''

You knitted your eyebrows and chewed on your lip slightly as a frown formed while looking at him. He could tell that you didn't get it.

'' But you're not like that, are you? ''

Your lips parted in surprise. He liked you because you didn't like him? A laugh slipped out.

'' That doesn't really make any sense. ''

The guard crossed his arms across his chest and shook his head firmly. He was still watching the pair who had made their way onto the dock now.

'' He's attracted to her too, '' you added, observing him as well.

'' No. It's different. Men like our prince, they are used to getting what they want. All their life has been pretty much nothing but sweet, and girls have been throwing themselves at his feet, ready to do anything.''

'' Is that so bad? '' you said silently.

'' Well, I suppose one downside with being a prince is that you get bored pretty quickly. It's human nature to like working for things before we achieve them too, is it not? ''

You looked from the guard to the prince again and gasped when you realized he was staring right at you now.

'' It's not fun having everything you want, it gets boring very fast. I think our prince is like that especially, he likes the thrill of chasing. ''

You listened to what he was saying but it became more muffled while the prince was staring you down. His lips curled in disgust and you felt uneasy. This feeling doubled when he started moving towards the tree you were standing against.

'' As my guard, it is your job to keep me safe, '' he sounded very angry, his jaw was tense and his narrowed eyes were shaking.

'' Your highness- ''

'' What if I had gotten assassinated right then as I was standing on the dock! '' he screamed, making both of you flinch.

'' But, your highness- ''

'' Someone could have snuck up behind and I would've died immediately. It would have been your fault. All because instead of doing what you were told to, you were flirting with the maid. One of my maids! ''

The emphasis on '' my '' maid, made your eyes widen. This passionate outburst was very much due to jealousy, and suddenly, you found yourself terrified for what would happen to the guard now.

An awkward and tense silence fell over the group. The princess craned her neck on the dock to try and see what was going on while Sunghoon was locked in a staring match with the poor guard, it almost looked like they were fighting for dominance.

Eventually, the guard had to give in. Otherwise, he'd lose his job. He unfolded his arms and let them fall to his side, straightening his posture simultaneously.

'' I apologize, your highness. It won't happen again. ''

Sunghoon snickered, then went deadly serious again. '' I know it won't. ''

You sensed the threat in his voice and cleared your throat which immediately made his eyes throw daggers at you. He didn't want you to butt in but you felt like you had to, this was your fault as much as his.

'' Forgive me, your highness. ''

He ticked his tongue in annoyance.

'' It's not his fault, I was- '' however, you stopped here, not sure how you were going to finish the sentence.

'' You will get repercussions too, just you wait. ''

This was the last thing he said before returning to the dock next to the princess. He didn't look nearly as happy as she did. Before, he'd likely faked it out of politeness but it seemed the whole altercation had spoiled his mood and drained his energy.

The princess' smile faded when he didn't return her warm energy and chirpy mood again, and you felt bad for her. There were maybe more pressing matters at hand, like how the prince would punish you but all you could do now though was push that to the back of your mind.

'' It will do us no good to be scared, '' the guard echoed your thoughts.

You stiffly nodded, almost unnoticeable in case Sunghoon's hawk eyes happened to land on you again.

Despite the conversation dying down, the pair stood at the dock for a few more minutes before the prince turned and took the lead into the gardens.

You thought that he was going to show her the beautiful zen part of it at the back where he often spent time. Anxiously you watched as he bent down and whispered something in her ear. He then came over to you again.

'' Let's go. ''

You didn't dare ask where. He glanced at the guard too, so he followed closely behind. Despite your lack of questions however, you quickly got a sense of where you were going when he turned down the hallway that was rarely used.

He pried the rusty door open and walked first down the stone stairs, which echoed every step off the walls. You and the guard shared a look of horror. Before Sunghoon would get impatient, you hurried down after him.

But when he turned he ignored you, instead fixing his attention on the guard. A single jail cell in the royal family's dungeons stood open.

You felt your stomach turn upon seeing the mossy skull at the corner of it and the unwelcoming wet, cold cobble floor. It didn't even have a bed.

'' Get in, '' he jerked his head to the jail cell.

'' And me? '' your voice broke.

'' Oh, you won't be hanged like him, darling. Don't worry. ''

You weren't so sure that was a good thing. He had a glint in his eyes that made you consider squeezing into the jail cell with the guard; maybe even dropping to your knees and begging him to leave you down there.

Whatever it was, it wasn't good, you thought as he locked the jail cell. The guard gave you a sad smile that he looked like he had to force, but he didn't look scared, even when he knew he was dying.

'' I'm sorry, '' you pitifully whispered to him when Sunghoon's hand wrapped around your upper arm as he started dragging you up to the surface again.

'' I know, '' he softly said, his tone melancholy.

You weren't sure if you had imagined it, but you winced and inhaled sharply. The feeling of his nails digging into your skin had overcome you suddenly. Yet Sunghoon looked at you perplexed when you threw him a glare.

At the surface, you could barely register where you were going. The sharp turns made you feel extremely disoriented and almost nauseous. You wondered why he was in such a rush.

In the end, when the world stopped spinning at last, you blinked and noticed that you were in Sunghoon's bedchamber again.

'' Why have you taken me here? ''

He snickered. '' You know I don't want to marry the princess, don't you? ''

You shifted uncomfortably and swallowed down the lump that was beginning to form in your throat.

'' Yes, sir. ''

'' Well, '' he took a step toward you, and reacting automatically, so did you.

You felt the edge of the bed press into the back of your thighs. He had purposefully pushed you in that direction. The prince gave you a cruel smirk and then dragged the curtains shut. The feeling of unease only doubled, you were starting to feel sick for real now.

'' Who do you think I want to marry, miss? ''

You grimaced. '' I don't know, your highness. ''

His arrogance faded, replaced with anger at you addressing him like the other workers again. Any time you did that, it was like a slap in the face, reminding him of your difference in ranks; of how you could never be, of how, he could never get what he really wanted.

But not today, and not from today forward.

Sunghoon pushed you down so easily with just two mocking fingers to your chest, so you were sitting on the edge of the bed.

'' You. '' his voice shook, sending shivers down your spine.

He double-checked that the door was closed and then began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

'' Sir? ''

You started anxiously fiddling with your hands. Was there a chance you could escape somehow while he was distracted? You eyed the door and went from looking at it to watching him with his back turned.

No, the odds didn't look good. In the time that it would take for you to run to the door, he would've already turned around. Then you would have to undo the lock and run with a good distance between him and you so he wouldn't catch you.

You sighed deeply. In an instant, he whipped around and came toward you again. '' Sorry to keep you waiting, princess. ''

Princess? What game was he playing now?

You frowned and pushed yourself further back on the bed by your forearms. Only a few seconds later, he loomed over you again, like a magnet attached to you.

Recognizing the look in his eyes, you already knew what was coming. There was a small voice in your head that told you not to fight it, it would hurt even more if you did. But there was also another voice, an irreparable sadness, because you had always feared this, and now it was happening.

You couldn't help but blame yourself. You knew how sensitive and brutal he could be, you should've done anything in your power to not upset him so it wouldn't have come to this. Sometimes you wondered if he had done this to the young female workers that came before you. No one had answered when you asked, yet, how could you not fear the worst when they left his company in tears?

You laid down and didn't move, just letting him slip your clothes off while you tried to think of something else. His hands were cold, like a corpse, it felt fitting somehow.

When his fingers grazed your underwear you sucked in air through your teeth.

'' Do you have to do this? I don't want to. ''

He already had an answer prepared, a perfect and tempting answer, most likely prepared beforehand, or perhaps reused from another time.

'' Don't you want to live a better life? A life in luxury? In happiness?'' he sat up and straddled you for a moment, out of breath due to excitement. '' Think of your family, what my riches could do to them. ''

' Do to them. ' That was the problem, he always did things to people, never for them. You smiled bitterly.

Tears prickled your eyes and this time the lump in your throat felt too big to swallow. You tried not to, but as soon as he mentioned your family you pictured them in your mind. Your sick mother, gasping for breath, your younger siblings in whose eyes you could sometimes detect hatred.

Hatred because mother wasn't getting better. They knew that you were responsible for her, and no matter what you did, your pay wasn't enough to make her better, so they blamed you for it.

You sniffled and turned your head away from him. He turned you back to him immediately.

'' Don't you want that, my love? ''

'' How would you do that? ''

He snickered. Had you fallen for his trap so easily?

'' There are a lot of options. I can kill my parents and become king, and then no one can tell me who I can or cannot marry. ''

Your mouth fell open. He had said it so casually, so callously.

'' Or I can threaten them, beg them to change their mind or, make you my concubine. ''

His lips lifted into a small smile. The little lighting that managed to slip in through the drawn curtains, lit up his crazed eyes that stuck out in the dark, it terrified you. Were you really sure what you were getting yourself into?

The prince moved your panties down all the way, making you let out a gasp and try to hide yourself. He wouldn't let you do that; pinching you painfully as a warning. Next, he hurried to take his own underwear off and then pinned one of your wrists down with his hand, while using his other to stroke your hair out of your face lovingly.

He dipped down and kissed you passionately and hard, knocking the air and protests out of your lungs. With your eyes being closed, he took the opportunity and parted your legs, entering you so harshly and unpreparedly that you wailed loudly.

He started moving his hips rhythmically and the pain shot up throughout your whole body. Stubbornly he pressed his lips against yours, constantly wanting to be attached to you, only stopping occasionally so you could breathe.

Your shaky whimpers were like music to his ears, and the salty tears that ran down your cheeks and were licked by him were like his own personal drug.

'' Whatever I choose, '' he panted, speaking for the first time.

His voice sent shivers down your spine again, but this time, it was fear that started to mix with pleasure. Your moan was muffled by his hungry lips.

He growled back in your ear, '' You are mine, mine only, ''

[maxdibert]

i saw that you used to read dramione fics and cool with hermione/krum

do you think that as a romantic ship ron is not a match with hermione? or any thoughts on ron weasley in general?

For me, the dynamic is everything in a ship. I have very specific preferences when it comes to the kind of dynamic that hooks me between two characters or the types of personalities I like. Enemies to Lovers has always been something I really enjoy, mainly because I’m a sucker for drama. I mean, I love the hard stuff: different worlds, countries at war, opposing political/social positions. The characters don’t necessarily need to be enemies, but there has to be some element that puts them on opposite sides and creates drama.

I also really love power couples—characters who are both A+ in the same field, complement each other to become even more brilliant, and have this push-and-pull dynamic with unresolved sexual tension.

In general, I’m very into the idea of two characters who have lived a lot, come from vastly different backgrounds, have been through a lot of crap, and then suddenly meet, and bam! It’s almost like a coincidence because they wouldn’t normally have crossed paths, but they do, and something unexpected comes out of it. That’s the kind of feeling I just don’t get from childhood friends to lovers. It’s something that bores me so much. I know it’s a trope many people enjoy, and I understand why, but to me, it feels super bland. Even more so if one of the characters doesn’t seem to deserve the other, like Ron, who, to me, acts like a jerk to Hermione several times. Plus, his family feels like some kind of cult.

Honestly, I think Hermione should’ve married someone in her 30s—maybe a politician or someone highly intellectual who could challenge her mentally. I picture her as a modern 21st-century woman, not just another Weasley baby-maker. I really can’t stand the Weasleys in general; they seem super toxic and have this traditional family dynamic that repels me. I firmly believe Hermione and Ron would have ended up divorcing before their 40s, once their two kids were at Hogwarts and they were left alone at home without them.

But to answer your question more directly: No, I think Ron is a boring match for Hermione. There’s no tension, just silly and childish arguments. There’s no passion, no je ne sais quoi. At least Viktor/Hermione is cute. I like it for that reason. Krum is this international star but super introverted, chased by all the girls, and suddenly he notices the one who doesn’t care about him and asks her out before anyone else. I think it’s adorable. A wholesome teenage romance that makes you smile. But honestly, since the fourth book, Ron has grossed me out in general. I see zero chemistry between him and Hermione. I imagine them having super mediocre sex, honestly, lol.

[teoft]

It's like Tumblr has become almost a diary for me, thanks to no character limit and a read more button. This atmosphere of acceptance and understanding helps a lot too.

I'll get back to posting actual art, juggling with Twitter and Bluesky along with commissions is taking up a lot of my time.

Anyway, thoughts about art community and being social

For the longest time I've had this feeling of being an outsider in this vague community of artists that see as colleagues of sorts. Like I meet all the "criteria" of being in the group, and yet don't really feel like I'm part of it. Well, it seems I am right in some way, and the reason is that they interact with each other, while I sit here drawing alone.

Unfortunately I've always been prone to isolate myself from others. I grew up feeling like I should be ashamed of loving to draw, since it was always fanart monsters, creatures and cool guys instead of "proper art" like animals and portraits. Before social media, I only drew for myself and never showed anything to anybody. I hid my art from my family, from the world, so that I wouldn't be judged. I think it is one of the biggest reasons why I have trouble interacting with people in the context of art (tbh I'm shit at being social anyway but that's a whole another problem).

Even when I had a scanner and means to post my art online, I never did, due to the whole "if you put something online it'll be there forever" mindset. My first actual account anywhere online must've been Facebook in 2010ish, where I only had a few friends. It was the perfect place for me to finally post anything online, and so I did: I used to post pretty much everything I drew on there. Slowly gaining courage, I eventually made my original Tumblr account, then Deviantart, Twitter, etc.

Still, all I did was throw my art out there in hopes of somebody liking it. I didn't really know how to interact with the people who commented on my posts, so instead I mostly just... made more art. I did have some friend groups here and there, but either they ended up falling apart or my social battery drained in such a way that I slowly drifted away. I had gotten used to just being by myself and relying only on myself in the online art world.

During my design studies, I started putting more thought and work on promoting myself, so that it could be one career path for me to take. My mindset was that I'll work hard and become "big", even if it meant that one post gained me just one follower. In 2020 I ended up going viral with a meme and suddenly getting tens of thousands of followers. It was great and a welcome boost of morale, but unfortunately 2020 was otherwise one of the worst years in my life.

Throughout the years people have come and gone, so the only constant for me has been myself, and my drive to develop my skills. Thus it's been too easy for me to just isolate myself. In a way it has been my strength with regards to art, but sometimes I wish I knew how to make lasting connections. I think/know I might be autistic to some degree, which adds to the difficulty of being social. Though, to be honest, I don't know if I'd gotten this far without my autistic hyperfixations.

I guess the thing I need to do now to fix this problem of loneliness and isolation is to just... slowly try and be more social. To reply to comments and talk to people. All of which is easier said than done. Still, just gotta take that first step and then keep going.

Despite lacking the kind of community I yearn for, it seems I've made a name for myself, enough so that people seem to take pride in knowing me. Or at least that's the impression I've gotten a few times. But still, I am happy that I've had a positive effect on people. After all, my two main motivators in art are that I like doing it, and I like when people enjoy my art.

[digitaltaesan]

── HE’S SOMETHING

in which PARK JISUNG stumbles across his girlfriends diary, finding multiple journal entries about him.

PARING: bf!jisung x gf!reader

WORDCOUNT: 664

GENRE: established relationship, fluff fluff fluff, lovesick reader

WARNINGS: short and sweet :]

NOTE: part of my series yel express :>

today is our anniversary and i can’t help but dream about our future. i hope i’m not getting too ahead of myself.

but it just seemed perfect. a life where we graduate and move in together. of course i get the ride side of everything. he doesn’t oppose, like the gentleman he is.

before jisung i felt like i wasn’t worth of love. it was hard, watching everyone around me move forward and fall in love. but i was stuck in the same spot—stuck by myself.

when he came into my life it felt like heaven. he made me laugh, made me see the true beauty in myself.

without jisung, i don’t know where i’d be.

today i find myself reflecting on the chaos of my life—love has always been an interesting one. it sneaks up on you, sometimes when you least expect it.

i remember when i first felt what I thought was love—it was overwhelming to say the least. it was like everything in my world became brighter, but also more complicated.

love has this ability to make everything feel alive, but it also has a sharp edge. the vulnerability it brings, the fear of loss, it’s almost as if i’m willingly walking into a storm. and then there’s the joy, that sense of being seen, understood, and held by another person. it makes me believe that love is worth all the highs and lows.

but then there are feelings—those subtle, silent guides that whisper to me, shaping my decisions without me even realizing.

sometimes, it’s a soft warmth that tells me everything is okay, and other times, it’s a deep ache that makes me question everything.

i’ve learned that feelings aren’t something to be ignored. they carry messages. they tell me when i’m out of alignment with myself, or when i’m not allowing myself to feel all that I need to.

sometimes, i wish i could control them better—hold back the tears when they come or stop myself from feeling so much.

but without feelings and love, i wouldn’t have stumbled into jisung. and every time i think of the moment we first met, i never regret it.

there’s something so exhilarating about the feeling that everything’s new again. it’s like i’ve stepped into a world where every moment sparkles with possibility.

ever since he came into my life, it feels like i see the world differently. it’s as if everything, even the most ordinary things, carry a new kind of magic when he’s around.

when we’re together, even the simplest moments feel full. i never thought i’d find someone who makes life feel so alive, never thought i’d find jisung.

i used to believe i could find contentment on my own, that i didn’t need anyone to change the way i experience life. but then I met him, and suddenly everything’s better.

the way he laughs, the way his eyes light up when he talks about his dreams, the way he listens when i share mine—it all feels like a dream.

i never knew life could feel this bright. he’s brought a warmth into my life that i didn’t even know was missing. everything feels lighter, more vibrant, more hopeful when he’s by my side.

it’s strange how quickly someone can come into your world and change the way you see it. i find myself looking at the future with more excitement than i ever thought possible, simply because i can’t imagine it without him.

everything feels better with him—every smile, every conversation, every shared glance. there’s a sense of peace that comes from knowing he’s there, making everything feel right.

it’s funny, because before him, i never imagined this kind of connection. i didn’t know how much of a difference it could make to have someone who just fits, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. life has a way of surprising you, and i’m thankful every day that he’s part of my surprise.

surely, definitely, he’s something

©https//www.digitaltaesan.com