#and life hasn't felt real for a while now. and so many things are in shambles

[loumauve]

sorry I've been unhinged lately and cursing your dashboards with all manner of posts. I'd love to promise it'll get better soon but that would probably be a lie

[penultimate-step]

Lately, I've been thinking about the effect of real-world time on perception of media. Or, wait, let me start from the beginning.

When I was 11, I read the book Ender's Game for some school assignment or another. I don't remember ever considering Ender a relatable character, but certainly my understanding of the events was shaped by being of an age to see the protagonist not so much as a young child but as someone of my peer group, someone who could have been slotted amongst my classmates without anybody batting an eye.

Over a decade later, I read the sequel, Speaker for the Dead; it takes place many years later, when Ender is in his thirties, and my feelings about the in-universe time skip were undeniably shaped by the real life time gap between my reading of the novels. Reading the first book back then and then the second book now created a feeling where it's almost like, I'm browsing the facebook page of someone I had known in middle school but lost contact with, checking up on how they're doing today. The real-time factor caused me to perceive it less like a timeskip, and more like a reunion - the feelings were closer to "oh wow, that's my boy! I haven't seen him in years! Wonder what he's up to?" Which in turn gave me a better position to appreciate the parts of the narrative about him struggling to find a place in his adulthood than I would have been had I perceived it more strictly as a quick skip from 11 to 20 to 36.

While musing about this, I considered a VN I played a few years back, which took place over three in-game days - except at the end of one in-game day, the game would lock you out from progressing for 24 hours real time. So that as the in-game investigator protagonist was ruminating on the information that had been discovered that day, the player would be forced to do the same. In this example, by forcing the player to experience the same timeframe as the in-game characters, the sense of it being an in-depth and extensive investigation increases, even though without the forced pauses the game would be short enough to blow through in a handful of hours real-time.

Which brings to mind how time effects things in long-running serial works. It's well known that an audience which watches an episode or reads a chapter week by week has a very different experience than one binging through whole seasons or volumes at a time, but I wonder if the real time relative to the in-universe time makes that effect stand out more? Fight scenes, for instance, have been known to take up several chapters in certain manga or webnovels. What does it do to the reader's perception, if from their point a view a fight takes a whole month, while for the characters they read about it's only been a couple hours? Readers might feel that the situation is more stressful, since the pressure of the fight has been ongoing for a long time for them, while in-universe it was a rough afternoon but no more than that. Contrastingly, when a series skips ahead or otherwise has long periods of time for characters that feel short for readers, it can feel like no time has passed and everything is still the same, unless the author really stresses the differences in world-state that occurred offscreen. Because the reader hasn't changed at all.

No conclusion here exactly, I just think it's interesting how often an audience's response to a work, the emotions felt, are more closely tied to their real-life timescale, something almost completely out of the author's control, as opposed to in-universe time, which can be intentionally shifted or played with for the sake of the narrative.

[mysicklove]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

DAY 22: A/B/O

With: Isagi Yoichi

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Omega/bottom Isagi, Top/Alpha/Gn reader, omegaverse stuff (slick, claiming, scenting, etc.), isagi is in heat, readers pp could be read as strap or dick, marking/biting, slight blood, possesive behavior, instincts and stuff, isagi lowkey being feral

A/N: i like this one. and dont ask me why i know so much about a/b/o dynamics.'

Isagi was completely fine with being an omega. Sure, in the beginning he thought it may affect his soccer career, but as he grew and matured, he realized that it wasn't a problem anymore. Scent blockers and suppressants were a gift from the gods, and key factor of how he went pro. Without them he didn't know where he would be.

But, it led to an addiction. Constantly hiding his scent, hoping people may mistake him for being a beta so he doesn't have to deal with the slander omegas get on the field. And without heats he doesn't have to miss practice. Hence, every morning he puts a scent blocker sticker on his neck and wrist, and the second he feels a little amiss, he pops a heat suppressant. And he lived fine.

Except then you came into his life. An alpha. 

Heats are supposed to be spent with you. His body was begging him to spend it with someone, but he shuts it down immediately. Its unhealthy, and he knows it. A doctor has reminded him for years now, but he brushed it aside. 

The two of you had fought about it for about a year now. It was damaging his body, but he was too deep in his soccer career to sacrifice those multiple weeks of the year. You couldn't force him to do it, but every time you saw him pop that pill, and instinctual dread flooded your veins.

He hasn't had a real heat in five years. More than twice longer than what is considered “unhealthy” for an omega. It means when he finally does fall into it, its bound to be painful, and long lasting. Not only that, but his instincts are supposed to be heightened more than usual, so he doesn't know what he will say or do once he goes into it again.

But you finally convinced him spend it with you. He has been hinting for months now that he wanted you to mark him, but when he finally bluntly asked you to claim him, you said you would only do it during his heat. He agreed with much hesitancy.

It's a dread to think about, and honestly he is a little scared. But he promised you he would do it. He (very reluctantly) called off two weeks from soccer practice during off season, when he felt his pre-heat begin to creep up on him. 

So, here he is. Going to have his first heat in five years. 

The two of you stayed at his place. It was probably better to be at a spot he is comfortable with after all. The days before it weren't too bad, you forced him to put away the scent blockers for a couple of days, so the house smelled strongly of him. He went out of his way to scent as many things as possible, growing anxious as the days went by. He also built a nest on the space next to his bed, covered in blankets, pillows, and too many items from your dirty hamper. He was antsy during this time, finding himself clinging to you, and following you around the house. It was cute honestly, watching him have a slight pout while he grips onto your hand.

His body temperature started to pick up by the third day of his preheat. He started wearing less clothing, and you hand fed frozen fruit to him, hoping to cool him off just a little. He tosses and turns in the night, whining out for you to hold him, comfort him, make the strange feeling stop. It was so confusing and he hated it.

And finally after four days, he experienced his first heat since he was a teenager. It was in the middle of the night, the two of you in his nest, and you were fast asleep when he awoke. Every inch of his body ached, and he was panting. Sweat dripped down his temple, and he could feel slick stain his boxers. It made him groan in frustration, but he couldn't do anything about it because he was so horny.

Everything in him screamed for him to get filled, and as quickly as possible. He doesn't even think about it, tearing off his shirt and boxers. His now naked body trembles and he pants into the back of his hand, before turning to your sleeping form. He quickly finds himself scampering over to you, shaking you awake.

You turn to him with a groan, eyes blinking in the darkness to try to adjust themselves. “Yoichi?” You question, voice hoarse from sleep.

He basically tackles you, collapsing his entire body onto yours, and burying his face into your neck, scenting it quickly and desperately. “It’s h-here–dont know what to do. H-Help. Hurts. It hurts. Make it stop!”

You snap awake in an instant, resting your hand on the back of his head. He straddles your leg, beginning to hump at it. You croon at him, the sound low and comforting, hoping to calm him down just slightly. “What do you need me to do, Yoichi?”

He shakes his head back and forth in your neck. “I don't know! J-Just touch me. Please, alpha!” 

You cup the back of his head, letting him rest in your neck, while you reach to grab his toy bag the two of you packed just a couple days earlier. You flick on the lamp on your nightstand and he glances at the bag in your hand, letting out a small growl and nipping at your skin.

You flinch, and he continues to growl, low, not threatening, but annoyed. “Don't want the toys. Touch me,” Isagi hisses, grinding his cock onto your leg.

“Feisty omega,” You murmur, setting the bag on the other side of the nest, and moving to reach behind him.

He gulps at the words, feeling bad already. His hormones are all out of wack, and he can't seem to think straight. He nuzzles into your neck and purrs, lifting his hips up to meet your fingers. 

You use a finger to prod at his entrance, eyes slightly widening at the feeling. “Wow love, you are so wet. You're dripping all over your legs and the pillows,” You murmur in astonishment, dragging your finger around the hole.

He whines in embarrassment, cheeks flushed from his heat, and now from humilation. “D-Dont know why. I woke up and it hasn't stopped,” he complains, voice low and gruff. You continue to pet his hair, trying to comfort him.

You hum in response, pressing your other finger into his hole. He shivers at the feeling, clinging onto you in the darkness. When it slips in easier than usual, you prod another one, finding it just as easy to slip in. “Fuck Yoichi, you’re just begging to be fucked aren’t you. Taking it so easy.”

His back is arched by now, pressing into the fingers that are now scissoring him. “More. ‘ts not enough. Please, please. I need more, alpha!” He cries, both sides of him now leaking. His face is flushed, and his whole body feels like its on fire.

You shush his mewls, letting out a soothing scent and he moans into your neck. “Alright, alright. I’m going to make you feel good, relax,” you whisper, trying to pull yourself a way for minute to prepare yourself. He doesn't let you go far, arms wrapping around your entire body, breathing into your skin. The scent seems to make him feel grounded, and it's what he desperately needs right now.

“Here, lay down for me,” You encourage, trying to pull him off just for a second so that you can line yourself up with him. He doesnt seem to listen, shaking his head and panting. Sweat beads at his temples, and he's already beginning to beg again, but you push him to the bed, pinning his hands up for a moment while you press the tip into him.

He groans at the feeling, already borderline oversensitive. “Hold me. Please. Hold me, ‘s hot. I can't–”

You kiss his neck, pressing further inside of him, and his eyes widen, gasping at the feeling. His nails dig into your back and you try not to hiss out, continuing forward till you bottom out in him. Slick continues to leak out and onto the nest, but you don't say anything, afraid of embarrassing him.

But you couldnt help but notice the way his back arches, and the wet feeling now on the both of your stomachs. His breaths are shaky and his hold on you is weak. It gives you a chance to pull away for a second, glancing at the cum spread between the two of you. 

He covers his face with his hand, blushing profusely. “I'm sorry. Don't know what happened. J-Just felt…really good,” He warbles, not daring to look at you, but feeling himself begin to grow hard again. 

You giggle at him, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “S’alright. So cute, Yoichi. Wanna take a break then?”

His eyes are back onto you in an instant, wide and panicking. “N-No! You can't stop, please keep going!” He begs, lifting his hips to grind his cock on your stomach in a plea.

You know it's the heat talking, so you don't dare to tease him, afraid of pissing him off. So you abide by your omegas command.

“Fuckkkk,” He breathes, eyes rolling back when you start to pick up the pace. You grip at the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss, and thrusting forward. His legs wrap around your waist, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. Your thrusts are hard, short, and make a lewd slapping noise from the skin to skin contact. 

Isagi pulls away from the kiss, eyes cloudy, and mouth slightly swollen from the attention. “Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha,” He chants, mewling at every thrust, while slick drips down his thigh.. 

You kiss his cheek, humming to him in question. “Right here. I'm here. Doing so well. Such a pretty omega,” You coo in response, and the effects are immediate. He purrs at your voice, nuzzling into your neck and scenting you with a small fucked out grin.

“Mark me.”

You pause your movements, eyes flashing to his blue ones. He whines at the interruption, grabbing at your hips to pull you in closer. “Right now? It's so early,” You reason, growing dizzy off his warm scent.

It turns sour in an instant. “Y-You dont want me?”

He was being unreasonable, but that was the heat talking. His brain wasn't in the right place, and the second you didn't agree, it hurt. Way more than it should have. Tears prick at his eyes, and he begins to push you away, feeling gross with himself.

You don't let him go far, releasing a calming scent, and crooning to him. “Not what I meant. Relax, omega. It's okay, you're okay. I'll mark you, will that make you feel better?”

He clings onto you immediately, scent light again. “Please please please. Wanna be yours. Your omega. Please bite me!” 

You groan, grabbing his hips and forcing him back down onto the length. He gasps, trembling, but now baring his neck to you. 

“You're going to be the death of me, Yoichi,” You sigh, not liking how much control he has over you. Between the scent and his lewd words, which would never come out of his mouth if he wasn't in heat, it was hard to stay present in the moment.

“Please please please,” he cries, grabbing your hair  and forcing you toward his very own neck. You glance at him one last time, looking at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks. He nods at you, a whine slipping past his lips. 

You take one last deep breath, inhaling your lovers intoxicating scent and bury your teeth into his neck. He yelps, gripping onto your hair as tears drip down his cheeks. But his back arches, and hes cumming again from the action. His head spins as he feels your tongue lick at the wound, crooning out apologies for the pain.

Your thrusts have slowed down slightly, but they are deeper, harder. After cumming two times Isagi feels himself grow tired, weaker, but every cell in his body is screaming at him to go again and again. Till he passes out, if he must. 

“You alright? My omega…All mine,” You whisper, brushing away his sweaty bangs. He feels light headed, absolutely amazed at the feeling of being claimed after all this time and your words, but frustrated from your bare neck. It's not fair.

A possessive nature takes over him, and he lets out a small growl. You raise your eyebrows at him, confused by the sudden aggression. He was always pretty temperamental, but you granted his wish, and were fucking him, what more could he need?

A pair of canines dig into your neck before you could even process his movements. It makes you wince, hissing out and shivering as you feel his tongue lick over the wound. “N-No warning?” You half complain, not minding the feeling of being marked by him.

He doesnt seem to be listening, heat clouding all coherent thoughts. “My alpha. Mhmmm. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Possessive little thing. S-Supposed to be my line,” You laugh at him lightly, and he pulls away for the first time tonight, maneuvering you until he is sitting on your lap, and beginning to raise himself up and down. Two hands fall on your stomach to help steady himself as he begins to grind on the length, head falling backward as he pants at the ceiling.

His movements are frantic, desperate even, as if he was afraid he would never get a chance to cum again. His own cum on his stomach is beginning to dry up, but he doesn't seem to mind. His cock flops back and forth at his movements, and sweat drips down his neck. His whole body seems to be a pinkish shade, covered in sweat. It makes you slightly worried, but knowing him, if you force him to stop so that you can check on him, he may try to kill you.

He cums again without much warning, his fingers curling up and eyes rolling backward. The stream is weaker, dripping pathetically down his cock. His whole body trembles and he collapses forward onto you, pawing at you to hold him again.

You grab water from the nightstand and basically force it down his throat, the excess dripping down his chin and onto your chest. He gulps it down without much complaint, staring at you with lidded eyes the entirety of it. “Lets take a break,” You mumble, caressing his cheek and wiping away the water.

He purrs into your touch, and realigns himself up again, a drunken smile on his face. “Not a chance, alpha,” Isagi says, sinking onto the length to try to chase his fourth orgasm that night. 

The two of you get little sleep, and you awoke to him grinding on your leg, and biting at your ear, begging you to make him feel good again, full again. But even in your exhausted state, you didn't mind too much, because how could you say no to your precious omega? 

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[loveundrwrld]

(ex) bully x fem reader oneshot

i tried to make sure new readers could understand the situation, but you can read his intro here for context if you'd like.

(cws: stalking, yandere shenanigans, reader has been bullied by the yan in the past and struggles with some trauma from it)

you’ve been stalked for a while by someone from your past. and to your horror, he seems to be finally making the move to approach you…

you aren’t doing so well. every day you feel your skin crawling, feeling someone’s gaze on you.

you’ve always had issues with feelings of anxiety ever since high school. for a long time, you’ve been skittish and untrusting of people, especially men. you know that you can take something small and your mind quickly spirals, turning a small problem into something huge in your mind.

and initially you were concerned that this was what was happening now. that your brain was connecting small things from your life together into something a sinister pattern.

unfortunately, this time… you think you are right to be afraid.

lately, every once in a while when you look behind your back you can see someone following behind you in the distance. someone with their face hidden in a scarf or wearing a dark hoodie. at first you think its just a coincidence... but, the person is always looking in your direction. and in some way or another, they’re always disguised.

later on, you check your mailbox, and there’s always a letter there waiting for you.

you knew it was from your stalker. you didn't really have any friends, and nobody in your family had that kind of handwriting you saw on the envelope.

you didn’t read the letters at first, afraid of what could be in them. in your mind, it would only solidify your fears of what was happening. you could deny that you were being stalked, chalk the person following you as just a coincidence- but seeing it written out in front of you would make it all feel real.

eventually, though, you decide that you need to read them. when you did, you realize with a sinking feeling that your stalker was the very person you wanted to avoid the most.

it's tanner- the person who made your life at school a living hell for you. all of the details and context that he’s sprinking in make that very clear that it’s really him.

it's hard to read, and not just because you feel disturbed by them. they're almost incoherent, his handwriting nearly chicken scratch as he is clearly writing them quickly and desperately. the letters themselves also seem to be just stream-of-consciousness too. from what you can make out of it, it’s absolute insanity- ramblings about how he could hurt himself if it pleases you, desperate pleadings for you to please, talk to him.

you think he's likely trying to mock you or scare you with his words of praise and obsession. you doubt that he's genuine in his intentions- though you don't doubt at all that he's obsessed with you. he’s taunting you by letting you know that he knows, you’re sure of it. his letters are simply too well timed- and have too many… ‘coincidental’ questions that relate to what happens in your life. you feel nauseous with fear thinking of him coming back into your life and tormenting you once again.

you try to go to the police with what you've seen, but nothing happens. no matter what you say, the police seem to not be willing to hear you out. to them, you sound paranoid… even though you tried to show them the letters, they still didn’t think it was worth their time. "well, he hasn't hurt you yet, right?" they would say. it would take you being kidnapped or dead for them to care, you realize.

you tried your best to ignore the pit of fear and uneasiness growing in your stomach and simply went to work.

your shift at work felt long. despite trying to calm yourself down and think of other things, you still kept thinking about tanner. your mind reminded you that you probably would not even be able to recognize him from all the years it’s been since you’ve last seen him- memories tend to distort and fade after time.

what if he wasn’t only trying to stalk you from afar, but he was actively trying to get close to you? it could be possible, your mind reasoned. he could’ve been the grocery store cashier, the neighbor next door who said hello to you, anybody. he could be any number of the customers you see walking into the store you work at.

all throughout the day at your workplace whenever a customer surprised you by walking too close behind you, or tapped you suddenly on the shoulder, you were certain that it was going to be him.

but, in the end, nothing happened. and just as you did every day, you needed to head back home.

it's pouring outside, and you're walking back out of the subway station. you look behind you, and someone in a black raincoat is walking quickly behind you. he turns his head a bit to the side and you see a flash of blonde hair sticking out of his hood.

you start walking faster- it has to be him.

just like you remembered- blonde hair, tan skin, tall, and lanky.

he’s closer to you than he’s ever gotten, and you don’t like that he feels confident enough now to change up his routine.

you walk quicker, turning left. but he's still right behind you, walking close behind.

you see someone close by your apartment stairs, a tall man with a shaved head wearing a long coat over a suit- you rush near him, hoping that the prescence of another man would deter your stalker.

it does not work, it seems- he keeps looking at you with some sort of strange desperation in his eyes.

you grab the stranger in the suits arm. you look over at his shirt- seeing a badge for the nearby bank on the front of his shirt. a security guard who just got off work, you think- he’s perfect.

the man in the raincoat gets even closer to you now, his brows furrowing. he opens his mouth as soon as he sees your hand on the other man’s arm.

"you're the person who lives in room 509, right? i need to-"

"hi, honey- did you wait long?" you ask, looking up at the man in the suit with a nervous smile.

he freezes, looking at you with wide eyes. in a few seconds though, he calms down and returns your smile.

"no, i didn't," he says, looking down at you with a sweet look.

he turns and looks at the man in the raincoat with furrowed brows, his voice immediately dropping. "is this guy bothering you?"

you freeze, not expecting him to address him directly. but you simply tug on his arm, trying to direct his attention away from him.

"don't worry about him, honey, just come inside."

he gives you a warm smile and opens the door for you, closing it quickly. he laughs softly at an alarmed sound coming from outside the door. you drop your shoulders, relaxing now.

once you’ve calmed down you feel a bit bad that you don’t recognize him- you haven’t been the best at being friendly to your neighbors.

you give the man in the suit an appreciative smile, wanting to show that you’re grateful for him playing along with your story.

“thank you for helping me! i don’t know what i would’ve done if you weren’t there.”

he looks down at you and gives you a confused look, but he smiles brightly.

“you're a sweet girl. no need to thank me for anything.”

he moves towards the elevator and you follow him. he presses the up button for you, and looks back at you with a bit of a blush on his face.

you look down where he was looking, and you blush as well. you didn't realize that the rain had soaked through your shirt, causing it to cling to your chest. you adjust your jacket, buttoning it up.

you two wait for the elevator, and he shifts a bit closer to you.

“what happened, by the way?” he says softly, looking at you curiously. “you seemed shaken up. did he ever do something to you?”

you nod, hesitantly.

“something like that,” you say, a bit bitterly.

he looks down at you with a concerned frown, and you two walk into the elevator together. you press the “5” button on the keypad.

"you should be careful. he lives in the floor above you. room 609," he says to you, his voice dropping a bit, becoming low.

he puts his hand on your shoulder, and you flinch a bit instinctively.

“do you need me to do anything to him? maybe... pay him a visit?”

you look at him with wide eyes, becoming uneasy. you slowly shake your head.

"no... you don't have to do anything."

“no, y/n, i do. if anything happens to you, it’s my fault.”

you freeze, taking a step back instinctively. there isn't much room for you to move- your back hits the back of the elevator.

you’ve never told him your name.

“… your fault?” you say, warily.

“i should’ve been more careful. i don’t know what he did… but i should have been there. he must’ve gone after you after he got my letter to you by mistake. it’s my bad handwriting that got you into this mess.”

you remember now that the address of the letters… the messy “5” he wrote for your room number looked awfully like a “6.”

the elevator door opens, and suddenly the man- tanner, you realizes, turns to you. his guilty frown turns into a small smile.

“well, anyways, no need to worry about him. it’s a good thing that i was there that time, right, honey?”

[defectivehero]

hiii! could you continue the hero x parent supervillain fic? i really wanna know what happens!

sincerely me

yes, i absolutely can...! sincerely me ;3

part one

warnings: family issues, abandonment, mentions of foster care; typical blood/injury

When the supervillain asserted that they'd be a better parent from now on, the hero was suspicious. Their sudden renewed presence in the hero's life felt like a trap and, months later, it still does. The hero has seen the supervillain out and about, and, while their parent hasn't inhibited their work, they've certainly made things... more interesting.

On the plus side, the hero is somewhat untouchable to a majority of the city's villains. Anyone smart enough to recognize the supervillain's power gives them a wide berth.

On the other hand, the hero feels a bit patronized. Many of their opponents' attacks are both nonfatal and, more frighteningly, nearly harmless. Suddenly, enemies that would never have hesitated to kick them to the curb are practically allowing them to win. It's frustrating and confusing as hell. The hero doesn't know what to do with this sudden shift in behavior. Honestly, it gives them a bit of guilt—they've become the villain in the situation, fighting with unrestrained power while their enemy scrambles to obey some sort of unspoken ethical system.

They're not foolish enough to think this sudden change in their enemies' behavior is a coincidence. No, this is the supervillain's doing. And they're not sure how to feel about it. The hero is capable enough to fight on their own, so they don't exactly like the thought of their parent attempting to fight their battles for them.

It's ironic, the hero thinks, when their parent's plan backfires. After all, not everyone is so keen to obey them. It doesn't matter if the supervillain is the most powerful and dangerous person in the city: there are enemies foolish and cutthroat enough to fight them anyway.

It's especially ironic when the hero responds to the sighting of an incapacitated person, only to find their supervillain parent collapsed in an alleyway. They immediately freeze at the mouth of the alley, contemplating whether they should stop to help or keep walking. That is never a choice heroes can make: they're always duty-bound to save people, regardless of who they are (or what they've done).

The hero sighs and breaks the distance between the two of them, crouching down in front of their parent. A foreign feeling of protectiveness briefly surges through their chest, before it is quelled by their doubt and suspicion. This could be a trap, designed to ensnare them by preying on their good nature.

But it's not a trap, the hero is soon forced to realize The blood coating the pavement beneath them; the supervillain's crumpled form; the pitch-black night... All of it is painfully real. And this time, it's the hero who has to swoop in to the rescue.

They frown down at their parent, studying the lines of their face and finding an unfortunate resemblance to themself. The hero can see how others make the connection between the two of them so easily: they have the same eyes, same sharp jaws and shaggy hair. Something burns in the back of their throat. "I'm not doing this for you," the hero feels the need to clarify. They bend down and place a hand under the supervillain's head.

They don't expect the supervillain to open their eyes, much less to respond. "I would expect nothing less," the supervillain chokes out through gritted teeth. The hero blinks at them in disbelief, something scarily similar to concern tugging at their chest at the supervillain's dazed state. There's a foreign feeling reverberating through their rib cage.

"I could just leave you here," the hero whispers, their voice breaking. Their eyes are stinging with unshed tears. "No one would know." Their grip momentarily tightens. Their hands are shaking. The hero bends their head down to hide the torn expression they're sure they're wearing on their face.

"You would know," the supervillain murmurs, blinking slowly. Somehow, the hero knows the supervillain isn't speaking out of their own self-interest. The statement is more of an acknowledgment of their relationship. The hero's parent turns their head to the side and lets out a garbled sound, coughing crimson splatters into their hand and onto the grimy pavement.

The hero takes a slow, deep breath. They bite the inside of their cheek hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste in their mouth anchors them to the present moment. They've stalled for too long; their parent's state is precarious and they need to be treated.

The hero scoops the supervillain up into their arms. It takes a little effort at first, but they manage to find a suitable position for walking. Their parent immediately stiffens and tries to escape their grip with an uncharacteristic panic.

"No, no," they choke out. "No hospital."

"No hospital," the hero acquiesces. They hadn't planned on going to the hospital—it's out of the question for villains like their parent. Even the hero themself has to avoid the hospital sometimes, albeit for different reasons.

The supervillain relaxes slightly. They look rather out of it, and they're not putting up a fight anymore. The hero remains silent as they continue walking, ducking through dark alleyways to avoid being seen.

"This is not... where I saw us spending time together," the supervillain chokes out, blood trickling from their lip. "A bowling alley, an arcade..." They trail off, nostalgia in their voice.

The hero's brows furrow. They haven't been to a bowling alley since their thirteenth birthday—one that their parent was certainly absent for. They've never liked arcades, either: they're too loud and bright. Their jaw clenches. The supervillain has never truly known them, regardless of what they may claim. Blood is all that connects them.

"I think this is supposed to go the other way around," the supervillain remarks helpfully, evidently referring to the hero carrying them. The hero is starting to get annoyed with their commentary.

"Stop saying things like that," they admonish them, continuing along their way. "It's creepy." They look around the corner warily, before proceeding. Truthfully, they're not quite sure where they're going—but they'll have to figure it out soon.

"I don't know how to be a parent."

The hero stops in their tracks, the unexpected confession provoking several unwanted feelings within them. Just how long have they waited to hear the supervillain say that? How long have they waited for an apology that never came? How long has the hero spent, waiting for their own hero to swoop in and save them from their foster home?

They're not sure how long they stand there, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular.

"Where are we going?" The supervillain whispers uncertainly. The remark promptly snaps the hero out of their thoughts, forcing them to focus on the matter at hand. The hero takes a slow breath.

"What's your address?" They demand firmly.

The supervillain has the audacity to look surprised at their command. They must be deluded, if they think the hero is willing to give them their personal address. The supervillain mutters their address and the hero very nearly sighs in relief when they realize how close it is. They had just been following their gut instinct—and, somehow, it led them in the right direction.

Ten minutes later, the hero is standing in front of a locked door. Their arms are burning from the exertion of carrying an adult in their arms. Their parent notices and quickly tries to reach out to the screen at the side of the door, which evidently reads their fingerprint. Their hand doesn't quite make it, leaving the hero to awkwardly adjust them in their arms and use their free hand to press their parent's finger to the reader. The door finally swings open and the hero quickly helps the supervillain down to the couch.

"You have a nice home," the hero says helplessly, struggling to get rid of the tension in the atmosphere that sends goosebumps rising along their skin. They cross their arms over their chest, feeling extraordinarily out of place.

"It could've been ours," the supervillain murmurs. The hero tears their eyes away from them, sickened at their parent's cruelty. The hero wasn't the one to leave. The hero wasn't the one to disappear.

"You weren't there," the hero reminds them bluntly. The supervillain blinks and almost jolts out of their reverie. "And you won't be." They say. The hero isn't sure what the expression on their face is, but it must be suitably distressed, because the supervillain is reaching out to place a weak hand on their forearm.

"I will be." Their parent assures them.

The hero shakes their head silently, a tear crawling from their eye and carving a path down their cheek. Their parent's temple is sweat-soaked and they're growing to look a bit sickly. The hero stares down at them for several minutes, before getting to their feet and finally grabbing their phone from their pocket to call a healer. This particular healer doesn't care who they're healing, as long as they can pay. And judging from the supervillain's lavish home, they can more than afford it.

The healer responds within a few moments and they promise to get there within fifteen minutes. The call ends and the hero's job is done. They've done more than enough at this point. It is their time to leave. They don't belong between these walls; they don't belong in the intimate, personal life their parent has created for themself.

But... the hero can't get themself to move. They're anchored to their parent's side, helplessness clenching their fists and tightening their shoulders. Somehow, they stand there long enough to give the healer ample time to arrive. The door swings open for the healer—indicating they've visited this residence before—and the hero feels their body moving before they can think things through. They're stalking through the unfamiliar house silently, heading into a bedroom with an en suite bathroom and closing the door with a silent click.

The hero can just barely hear the healer beginning their work, talking quietly to themself as they work. The healer thinks themself to be completely alone in the supervillain's residence.

...Meanwhile, the hero surveys the room they now find themself in, thoroughly confused and angry at their own actions. Why didn't they leave when they had the chance? Why did they stay? The supervillain abandoned them for more than a decade, yet the hero can't leave them for a single moment? How many times was the hero left to slowly decay over cracked pavement?

They move to the bathroom connected to the bedroom, finding themself standing in front of a grandiose mirror. Their parent stares back at them, shaking their head as if admonishing them for their remorse and guilt..

The hero wrenches their gaze away and buries their head in their hands, sinking to the floor and pressing their hands to the plush carpet. Their breaths are far too quick and short, leaving their chest burning and saliva slipping from their lips as they try in vain to keep their composure.

Their supervillain is being stitched back together in the next room, leaving the hero to fall apart in this one.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

_____________________

me reading this ask, pretending like I know what happens next: ah... yes... the story I definitely planned for... 😅

ohihohohoh I love how this turned out, though. mwhahahhaha

_____

thanks for reading! <3

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[dadvans]

Eddie + Tommy friendship growth in s8 has the potential to be so good, look, LOOK, listen to me: tommy had to learn how to live alone, while eddie has always been lonely with other people.

Tommy, only child and potential army brat who moved around frequently and was never enough for his dad and grew up lonely lonely lonely, so lonely he made friends with his loneliness, got deep into his hobbies and made friends with his hands and maybe had to learn how to be real friends with someone else through sweat and blood when he entered basic, so he's good at ride-or-die friendships where you'd fight the whole world for someone and he does have a guy for everything, but he was raised in loneliness and is comfortable alone, he hasn't had too many serious adult relationships because he repressed that side of himself for so long that when he did finally allow himself to be with other men maybe it felt like it was too late, so he still needs to make space for himself and the things he enjoys because thats where he's comfortable, and

Eddie, from a big family with a military career and an ex-wife and a kid from when he was still a teenager, who has never, ever had to be alone, but still feels lonely because everyone in his life looks through him to the version of himself they wish he was instead of the solid self he really is, and he's a mess of several identities he's tried to be for other people without knowing who he is outside of them, but he's never really been alone with himself, doesn't know how to be, and he's going crazy with it, drowning in it, feels like a drop in the ocean when he's sitting on the couch at might where he used to be able to hear chris playing games or on a call with his friends, or they'd be watching a movie together or he'd be helping chris with his homework and now all he can hear are the distant sirens and traffic of his neighborhood, the leaky faucet in the kitchen sink dripping and the hum of his old refrigerator

give me platonic male friendship where eddie learns how to be himself because tommy helps him learn to stand the quiet of himself and the joy of doing and being for the sake of self enjoyment, and eddie continuing to be another part of the 118 family that tommy wanted but never got to have. give it to me!!!!!!!!

[maehemthemisfit]

𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖, 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: manjiro sano x gn!reader

synopsis/prompt: "despite your aching heart, you continue to see him. an ocean of words left unsaid, how long before you drown? tomorrow, you promise, you'll tell him tomorrow" + ❄️ cold, 🌃 night, and 🧣 them giving you an article of clothing

warnings: pinning, fluff, sprinkled angst, comfort, reader being cold, proofread partially, op running on 3 hours of sleep, it's 1am, help, should i make a part 2?

wc: 1.8k | taglist: @youatemylollipop

Japan had always looked beautiful in winter, even though it was a time that withered life. Plants darkened and shriveled, animals curled away in their dens, and sickness became a common factor. Despite the season being a high time for death and diminish, many good things flourished from it as well.

For starters, the low temperatures seemed to bring people closer together; hands locking in a small exchange of heat, shops switching their menus to warmer delicacies and enticing couples, and people shared their umbrellas to shield them from the elusive flakes of snow that descended upon them. 

Your boots crunched beneath the powdered flakes that blanketed the ground, obscenities being expelled from you in protests of the cold.  Internally, you mocked yourself for making the awful decision of not wearing something more heavy on your shoulders, but by now you couldn't turn back.

Being more than halfway to the shrine, you continued on your trek and swallowed down your discomforts, though it wouldn't take a scientist to discern you were pretty much fighting for your life at this point.

The cold was merciless as it caressed your face, its unyielding breeze spawning goosebumps over your skin and made your lungs blister from each breath you heaved. It hurts, you bit back a whimper, second guessing all your life choices that led up until now.

Some gloves would of been nice as well.

You felt like hell frozen over as every exposed part of you ached, especially your ears, and at one point it felt as though you were breathing from your head. Your mind became a fuzzy blizzard of uncertainty and regrets yet your body moved on, not ready to give out yet.

"Almost there", you'd whisper, urging yourself through the night.

It was a miracle when his voice finally graced your ears, granted everything ached but still his presence managed to warm your heart, albeit figuratively.

"Hah, [Name]-chan? You're here?" The middle school gang leader questioned, looking over his shoulder. His smile widened as soon as the two of you locked eyes, and before you knew it, his hurried footsteps were drawing near. "Weren't you planning on staying home?"

Your brain lagged for a second as his hand lightly touched your shoulder, and your eyes took this moment to admire the way his skin soaked in the city lights, in a way that perfectly framed his dimples. He looked so warm and cozy, his neck tucked beneath a scarf while the rest of him was layered in winter clothing, unlike you who garnered nothing but a sweater and a thin jacket.

His cheeks were slightly tinted red from the cold and a few droplets of snow were sprinkled over his blonde locks. You had to resist the urge to reach out and comb the speckles of frost from his hair and also restrain yourself from cupping his cheek, even if it was only to keep him warm, though you're sure you had little warmth to offer.

"I was but..." You mumbled, thinking back on the real reason you were here while Mikey quirked a brow.

'I wanted to see you'

Truly, you couldn't help yourself, not when he smiled so sweetly and sung your name like it's been on replay for hours in his head. It hasn't, you'd have to remind yourself, but there were some days that left you questioning reality. Days where he felt so close, yet every time he was near his name never rolled off your tongue as fear ebbed your voice away at the prospect of being more than what you were to him and how unlikely it was that he saw you as such.

That never stopped you from hoping though.

Tomorrow, you'll talk about it tomorrow.

To your dismay, the temperature took a dive and your words died in your throat as a pout twisted your face. Why now of all times? You were already freezing your ass off, what next? An internal organ? You held back a groan.

Your eyes slightly watered from the cold, threatening to become a stream of tears. With the hiss of the wind you quickly turned away, huffing as you tried your best not to sniffle or sneeze in front of him. Discretely, you tried to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your poorly insulated jacket.

Mikey could be dense sometimes, damn near oblivious, but when it came to you it was a completely different story. From the moment you spoke he could instantly tell something was off. Judging from your lack of winter attire and trembling self, it wasn't rocket science to figure out what was wrong, yet there seemed to be something eating away at you, something he only caught a glimpse of but never dared to comment on.

He saw it in your fleeting gaze, the frown you'd wear whenever he bid goodbye, and the way you brushed others off whenever they mentioned his name. He'd have to ask Emma about it when he gets the chance.

You tried to offer him the bag, an easy distraction from your struggling self, but of course your plans were foiled as Mikey grabbed your wrist instead, pivoting your towards him as a new set of fresh tears dripped from your lash line. 'No, wait!' You panicked, trying to escape his grasp but he only pulled you closer.

"M-Mikey," You stammered, lightly tugging at your wrist. The bag of taiyaki slipped from your hand, long forgotten over the snow.

It hurts seeing you like this. Was this how you felt all the other times you scolded him about taking care and prioritizing his health? His stomach tied itself in knots and his chest ached for reasons he had yet to understand. You were sure to catch a cold if you already didn't have one, but that just means he'd have to take care of you instead, and who was he to refuse?

Your breath caught in your chest as Mikey's hands cupped yours, his thumbs caressing warm mesmerizing circles into your aching knuckles. It felt... good, almost mind numbing you had to admit. It was ironic to think, one of the most strong and feared kid was here lovingly tracing your bruises. Your heart just might stop.

Something festered beneath his pout, flickering like a golden flame behind his charcoal eyes. Concern? Sadness was it? 

"You're cold," He stated, almost matter-of-factly, and you shuddered from how... distant his voice sounded, like he was far in the depths of his mind. 

You sniffled, looking away and taking interest in a nearby streetlight, which did little to help your eyes. Your lip curled in guilt and you almost wanted to laugh from how pathetic you probably looked.

His expression visibly softened, a faint smile soon painting his features as he wiped your tears, the pads of his fingers running gently across your skin. You blinked as the wind blew harshly, blinding you for a few moments. When you finally came to, you found something heavy being tugged over your head.

"What, h-hey!" You struggled against whatever was over you, only to be stopped by Mikey.

"Shh, be still!" He warned, attempting to curb your movements but you didn't relent, scurrying away from whatever force was over you.

"I can't see!"

"I'm almost, ah- stop moving before you-"

You muffled a few more protests before your thrashing around gave you a date with gravity along with a ticket that sent you both tumbling towards the ground. Mikey's arms instinctively snaked around your waist, his chest successfully breaking your fall when he landed in the snow.

He sighed and you groaned, the hoodie- his hoodie- you found yourself in finally slipping past your head.

"The hell was that!?" You let out an exasperated huff.

"Oh, so I'm to blame?" Mikey deadpanned, puffing out his cheeks. If he could cross his arms he would.

"You're the reason we're on the ground."

"You're the one on top of me."

Oh.

You tried to move.

Oh no...

It appears your hands unfortunately didn't make it into the sleeves, leaving you tangled in the thick fabric of your best friend's hoodie.

At the sight of this new revelation, Mikey couldn't help but crack a smile. "Ah! [Name]-chan~ don't tell me you're-"

"Shut up," Your face burned and you buried yourself in his scarf, embarrassment pooling in your stomach. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

You were engulfed in his laughter, his chest rising up and down with erratic breaths. You couldn't escape it, not that you wanted to leave. Mikey was thankful you couldn't see him, his face sprouting a deeper red that he would blame on the cold given the opportunity. He held you closer, supporting you so you wouldn't fall off since you couldn't hold yourself up. A part of him didn't want you to slip away so soon.

It was then you became hyper aware of your surroundings. His arms were tightly wrapped around you and your face was nestled in the crook of his neck. He was warm and soft and you couldn't help but relax and melt into him, cocooned in his hoodie that smelt of rose vanilla and pine. You breathed him in and it made you sick with nostalgic dreams of him and you, together and close like this. Those days where you were younger, sleeping over and waking up to tangled limbs and drool that wasn't yours on your neck.

You missed it.

You missed him.

But no matter how far you strayed from Mikey, he always brought you back into his arms, safe and secure. Just like this.

His hum brought you to the surface as one of his hands traced the small of your back.

"Hey," He called, urging you to look up.

"Hi," You greeted back, more weakly than you intended.

"Somethin's on your mind," Mikey spoke without question, sincerity in his eyes. A beat, then another passed by as you watched him. Silence. "You can... you can tell me anything, y'know? Whenever you're ready that is. Just," His hand went up to hold your cheek before moving to your head and hugging you back into his chest. "Don't let it tear you apart, away from me, okay?"

Seconds slipped passed as you registered what he said. Words bubbled in your chest, a confession on the tip of your tongue, ready to be poured out into the open snow. Your noses were nearly touching, your breath condensing into a small streams of mist and mixing with each others, dancing away into the night air and fading like a distant dream. 

You remembered some phrase about actions speaking louder than words, and you had the golden opportunity. His eyes, his attention, his lips inches from yours.

You leaned in, swallowing everything down.

And then, you hesitated.

That split second of vulnerability was easily snatched away by doubt, whispering fears into your head and sealing your lips from doing and saying anything further. All that courage down the drain.

Instead, you hummed, falling back into his chest to calm your racing heart. You had to tell him eventually. Your heart just wasn't ready. For now, you'll lay in his warm embrace and pray he couldn't tell, holding onto him for as long as you could without ripping at the seams. He was right though, this feeling was tearing you apart.

Tomorrow, you'll tell him tomorrow.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being semi-close to someone a lot younger than me?

This is something I've been worried about for a while, but it's become more prominent lately after me seeing several people say it's inherently creepy for an adult (or even just way older person) to be interacting with a child. And I really don't want to be like that, I don't want to hurt a kid ever, especially since I know what it's like to be groomed myself.

So I (18F) have known this kid (13) for about 3 years now. They reached out to me online because of similar interests- mainly in games and in YouTube channels, and we bonded a lot over that. They didn't have their age in their bio so I didn't immediately know their age, but I did find out a few months in.

Over the course of when we've known each other I've been as careful as I can to be age appropriate. I never bring up anything sexual for obvious reasons (the only time it ever came up was them asking what a sexual term meant, which made me very uncomfortable and I tried to change the subject... to which they started repeatedly inappropriately using the word. They ended up looking up the definition and where horrified. Even that conversation makes me feel wrong).

I also make sure to not put any of my personal issues on them. I couldn't always hide when I was upset- both because for the first year of us knowing each other I had unmedicated ADHD that made my mood swing a lot, and for the past 2 1/2 years or so I've been in a very toxic relationship that I still don't know how to get out of and quite frankly, am scared to get out of because I don't know how they'll react if I do actually leave them. Do to this, there's been times they could tell something was off and would ask me what's wrong. I avoided telling them as much as possible, just giving them something vague and reminding them that it's not their responsibility to help me, because they would always try to help cheer me up, and even that didn't feel right because they're a kid. They should be focusing on themself, not me. The worst of this though, is there was a time I was struggling heavilly with suicidal thoughts. I was planning to attempt, and sent out a vague "goodbye" type message, trying not to make it too obvious what was happening. They caught on though. They weren't the one who helped me calm down from that but I still know how awful it is to be sitting there, scared you're going to loose someone important to you. Especially for a kid. I've apologized for that happening many times, and it hasn't repeated, but every time they just go "It's fine, you were a struggling kid too back then" as if that makes that okay. It doesn't feel right.

Throughout the 3 years we've known each other, I've also tried to help out where I can with several issues they've had. Which was pretty much just me giving advice for how to handle difficult situations where I felt I could, and offering comfort and reassurance where I couldn't. Among other things, I helped them recognize several instances where other people they met online where intentionally trying to groom them. I explained to them that it wasn't normal for someone my age to want to be with them/find them attractive, because there where several instances of them telling me of 15/16 year olds getting with them. That no responsible person my age would be doing that to them, and that it wasn't okay for them to do that.

Because of the help I've given them, I notice they look up to me quite a lot. They have told me they see me as a role model and "the best person they know" (I can guarantee I'm not, and have tried to get them to not see me that highly because that seems unhealthy). They even see me as a sort of parental figure, including calling me parental-like names. That by itself I don't mind too much, I know they had a terrible home-life and didn't feel they could actually look up to their real life parents. So if I am giving them something I think every child deserves to have (a parental role model they can look up to), I'm glad. I just worry I'm not as good a role model for that as they think I am, and that I'm a creep, just like the ones I have gotten away from them in the past. I do care about them a lot, and do see them in that sort of familial way, and I want to protect them and help them have a better life, because I know they have struggled a lot and if I am able to help them, I want to. But I'm worried I'm causing the same harm that has been caused to me, and that others have tried to/have caused to them in the past without even realizing what I'm doing wrong. I don't want to be like those creepy assholes.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[enhaheeseung]

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing: live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warnings : age gap, smut, protected sex, fluff, cursing, vulgar language, angst.

Note : hi, sorry this is taken so long to update, but here is chapter number six.

Masterlist (not updated)

WC : 2,333.

If anyone wants links to other chapters lmk!

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Heeseung opened his eyes to be greeted by the clock that read 7:02, and your arms wrapped around his waist. His eyes widened in shock. He had never slept so long in his whole life.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand to text Jay.

Real life bambi 🦌: How does it feel waking up in a cold, empty bed?

Jay park my car in your garage 🐦 : You're not still leading her on, are you?

Real life bambi 🦌: I'm not. She's the one that's hungry for my dick, and I just give it to her.😏

Jay park my car in your garage 🐦 : You’re ✨disgusting✨ Are you still making her a birthday cake?

Real life bambi 🦌: Of course, but why are you bringing that up? It's like forever away.

Jay park my car in your garage 🐦 : Hate to burst your bubble, but it's like three weeks away,

“Three weeks!?" heeseung shouted. Causing you to stir in your sleep.

He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth.

He gently moved your arms from his waist and left a note, leaving the bed as quietly as possible and making his way to his bathroom to get ready for school so he wouldn’t wake you.

He made you a few dishes for breakfast. And then he took an apple for himself, rushing to school with a few minutes to spare.

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You woke up feeling around the bed with your eyes still closed. Once you felt it was empty, you figured heeseung had already gone to school.

You got up, rubbed your eyes, and saw a small note on your nightstand.

"Morning my darling, I'm off to school, and I probably won't be back till much later, so don't wait up for me. Don't worry. I packed a few dishes for you before I left. See you later tonight, beautiful."

You smiled after reading the note. You decided on taking a bath instead of a shower, hoping to kill time while he was away. Maybe it was too soon to miss his presence, but you did.

In the beginning, his looks attracted you, but as time passed, there were so many things to love about him.

It was definitely too soon to feel this way about him, and you knew it. This was one of the many reasons you had been taking advantage of in the past, and one of the things you swore against was trusting yet another person so easily.

But here you are, falling in love with your live-in maid and trusting him with your whole heart, yet it hasn't even been two months yet.

You had hoped that eventually, he would feel the same way, but only time could tell you were quite the impatient person, but you would wait for him.

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After heeseung got out of school, he asked Jay to accompany him to the store to shop for your birthday.

They walked side by side on the way to the store. He had already decided what he was going to make for you.

"She loves strawberries, so I decided to make her a strawberry shortcake," he said with a bright smile. He felt proud that he remembered you telling him how much you liked strawberries.

He loved watching your eyes light up every time he had them prepared for you, along with your breakfast.

"You look like a creep with that smile on your face." Jay threw in his two cents that literally nobody asked for,

'I can't wait to surprise her. I really hope she'll like it," they arrived at the grocery store a few minutes later.

"Are you sure you don't like her? I mean, you're going through a lot, especially seeing how she already gave you the goods."

"First things first, strawberries." he ignored his friend's questions, grabbing a basket at the entrance.

"heeseung!" Jay raised his voice slightly, gaining the attention of some shoppers by accident.

"What do you want me to tell you? Yeah, I had sex with her a few times, and now I caught feelings for her. Some sappy unrealistic bull crap. She's letting me stay in her house and paying me a ridiculous amount of money. The least I can do is give her a small gift,"

Jay just nodded his head, a sigh leaving his lips. The whole situation was making him feel a bit uneasy, especially cause of heeseung’s messy past with his ex’s jay just wanted to see him happy, and the idea that he might like you made him excited, but if heeseung said he didn’t like you than he wasn’t going to push for it anymore.

"Now, can we just finish this already?" he walked past Jay, feeling irritated by his stupid questioning.

Jay followed closely behind him, staying silent for the most part.

heeseung had got everything on the list and was heading toward the checkout when he spotted a display with flower seeds.

"Ooh, do you think y/n would like these?" he set down his basket, kneeling to take a closer look. He picked up the packet of sunflower seeds, showing them to Jay.

"What girl doesn't like flowers?"

"For once, you actually said something remotely smart" he grabbed four packets. Adding them to his basket,

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You finished with your bath, and still hours before heeseung came home. You took it upon yourself to add a few decorations to heeseung's room, not too many, but just the right amount.

You had spoken to him about adding some furniture and a few paintings on the wall. He said that he would eventually do it when he got some free time.

At least that's what he told you, but ultimately, he just didn't want to waste time with decorating cause he'd be leaving soon.

You didn't hear when he came home, and you were putting the final touches up when you heard his footsteps coming upstairs.

You quickly bolted out of his room with your back pressed against his door.

"Hi," you said nervously.

"Hi?" he noticed your suspicious behavior right away. "What were you up to?"

"Nothing," you reply a little too quickly.

"Okay, can you let me in my room, please?" he smiled, still unsure of what you were up to.

You moved aside slowly. You were a bit nervous that he wouldn't like it.

His eyes went wide immediately. He turned back to you with his mouth agape. Eyes darting from you to the room.

"You didn't have to." he hugged you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

'but I wanted to. I missed you. Where were you all day?"

"It's a secret, and I missed you too, darling. I was so close to skipping and spending all morning with you."

"It's a good thing you didn't. School is important." You hugged him back.

"Not as important as you. Give me a kiss." he leaned down so you could press your lips to his

He picked you up and tossed you on his bed, throwing his backpack to the other side of the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just going to have sex with a beautiful girl in my beautiful room." He climbed on the bed, hovering over you.

"I've been thinking about you all day," you admitted.

"Oh yeah? What about me?" his hands made their way to your shirt, taking his time with each and every button.

"Your smile, your hands," you pulled his shirt over his head. "Your body and what it feels like when you're on top of me."

"Funny, cause that's exactly what I was thinking about you too," he trailed kisses down your stomach, grabbing the waistband of your two-piece and dragging it down your legs, noticing your matching top and bottoms.

"For me?" he asked with a grin on his face.

"All for you," you wrapped your legs around him, bringing him in for a kiss.

"Absolutely beautiful," he positioned between your legs and slowly rolled his hips into you, moving his head to the side of your neck, leaving hickeys just below your ear.

"Hee, I want to feel you inside me now." It was like a switch went off in his head when those words left your mouth.

He instantly shot up from the bed. Kicking off his pants and underwear before he walked over to his backpack, digging inside for something.

He stood above you, holding a small box in his hand and waving it around. "Look what I got," he smiled while opening the package as fast as possible, grabbing the foil packet and ripping it open.

"You're crazy," you chuckled. You couldn't believe he actually bought condoms.

"Crazy for you' he winked, giving himself a few pumps before sliding the latex on.

He got back on top of you, but you quickly flipped him over.

"Oh," he smiled. You laced your fingers together, putting your hands behind his neck.

He kissed your forearm while he held your thighs in his hands.

You straddled his lap, grinding down on his cock. You moved your panties to the side, your heat finally coming in contact with his hard-on.

"oh my god," he looked down, watching his dick slide between your pussy lips.

You laughed softly and took his length in your hand, rubbing it on your folds and wasting no time as you pushed his cock inside of you.

He moaned, squeezing on your thighs tightly, eyes traveling to you, getting ready to unclip your bra.

"Can I?" he asked, looking up at you with his big shiny eyes.

"You can do anything you want, hee."

He slid his hands up your sides, reaching for the clip on the back, fumbling with it slightly.

You waited for him patiently while he focused on unhooking your bra.

Once he unclipped it, You lifted your arms so he could easily pull it off.

"so fucking beautiful," he pulled you flush against his chest, bucking his hips into you slowly.

"Hee, just relax. I want to take care of you tonight." You put your hands on his shoulders.

"But-" you placed your finger to his lips to keep him quiet.

"Let me," you bounced up and down, riding him slowly.

"Okay," he rested against his headboard.

"You look perfect like this." You tipped his chin up, making him hold eye contact with you.

He trailed his palm on the valley of your breasts before taking them in his hands and massaging them gently.

The slow pace was getting nearly unbearable for both of you.

"Please go faster," you followed his command. Even though he wasn't on top, you still gave him full control over you.

You rode him a little faster. The material of your panties rubbing against his cock adding even more pleasure.

"Feeling good?" you ask, picking up the pace.

"So good." he leaned his head to your chest, rolling his tongue around your nipple.

You gripped his hair tightly, making him groan against your chest from the slight pain.

He gulped loudly before switching to your other nipple, giving it the same amount of care.

You held onto his shoulders, gaining more leverage to bounce on him, hitting a better, deeper angle inside of you.

"Fuck y/n," he let out quick breaths, you could feel him twitch, and You knew he wasn't going to last much longer. You moved your hand to rub your clit, so you could both cum together.

He quickly replaced your hand with his, and it felt ten times better than your own as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"Are you gonna cum, hee? You leaned down to connect your lips with his just in time for him to let out a whiny yes into the kiss.

He wrapped his arm around you, helping you ride him faster to bring you to your orgasm.

"let it out, darling," he spoke onto your lips as he put his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

He could feel your walls tightly convulsing around him, and that's all it took for him to fill up the condom with his cum.

"oh, hee, I'm cumming, cumming" you whimpered out, rolling your hips tiredly.

"fuck yes, that's a good girl" He dug his hands into your hips, bringing you down on his shaft gently, so you could feel every last bit of him inside you while your walls clenched tightly on his length.

He encircled your waist with his arms, giving you a tight squeeze. Your head automatically falling into the crook of his neck.

"You okay?" he chuckled, feeling how your body slightly shook.

You nodded your head. Unable to speak while you caught your breath.

He ran his hand through your hair. Pressing his lips to your cheek. "Mwah." he rested his chin on your shoulder, hugging you into his body.

You lay together, basking in each other's body heat for a few moments until he gradually went soft inside of you.

He pulled out of you and got up, tossing the condom in the bathroom trash. He walked over to his backpack, grabbing the packets of flower seeds he had bought from earlier.

"Hurry up. I miss you already," you whined, missing his warmth.

He got under the covers with you, and you clung to him instantly. "Maybe you should skip school tomorrow. I don't know if I can spend a moment without you."

He glanced down to see you smiling at him. For some reason, he felt a strange feeling in his chest.

It didn't take long for him to figure out what he felt was guilt, but he shrugged it off. He'd be leaving in a few weeks anyway.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked while you poked his chest.

Then he remembered the packet in his hand, and he showed them to you. "I thought we could plant these together. Do you like them?"

"I would love to, and they're my favorite," you pecked his cheek and yawned afterward.

"Let's sleep now, precious." he wrapped a hand around you, holding you close to him.

Just a few more weeks, he told himself before shutting off the lamp on his nightstand.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

I have to make a new taglist so If anyone wants to be added pls lmk!

Permanent taglist:®• @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @scarlet127 @bunhoons @axartia @kpopscruggles @badidealy @heeseungleeworld @jayroseyy @bangchanhasbigfeet @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @hee-in @heesgirl @bambisgirl @heeaddict @heartandfangs @nyxtwixx @iamliacamila

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night🖤

[th3archivisst]

Thinking about Dream and Hob again!! It's dreamling week so my previous posts are getting attention and that has reinstated my feelings about them. Therefor, lil ficlet I'm making up as I go because they are very sweet

-

A week after meeting his mysterious stranger for the first time in far too long, Hob is still giddy with happiness. His students see it, he knows, and it's impacting how well his lectures go, but he can't bring himself to care.

His thoughts keep drifting to that smile, the damn smile that erased any and all resentment he may have felt for being stood up in 1989.

So naturally, his dreams have drifted in a more positive, if dark and mysterious, direction. He dreams of his stranger almost every night, whether he remembers it or not. The times he does remember lighten his step for hours on end, contentment buzzing in his heart every time he remembers that his stranger said they would meet again soon.

And meet again soon they do, although not how Hob envisioned it.

He had picked up lucid dreaming quite a while ago, so any dreams he had tended to be a reflection of whatever he had thought about before bed. This time is no different.

The bed underneath him is warm and soft, the stranger in his arms relaxed and smiling. They're both still dressed, unlike some other dreams Hob has had, but he's content with that. The closeness is enough, more than enough.

Conversation isn't particularly prevalent in these dreams, the man and the miracle happy in the quiet moments they carve out for themselves. The few sentences they do exchange are ones Hob treasures more than the life he so cherishes. This time is no different.

Really, Hob should've caught on sooner.

Brown eyes gaze into diamond that had softened into coal, and his stranger spoke.

"You still do not know my name, Hob Gadling."

Hob tilts his head.

"No. You've always seemed a bit beyond names." He smiles, a similar tug pulling at his dear stranger's lips.

"Dream." The man murmurs, a vulnerability Hob hasn't seen before painting the words with light. Confused, Hob chuckles.

"Yes, I'm quite aware I'm dreaming."

His stranger shakes his head.

"My name, Hob."

Hob blinks.

Then narrows his eyes and sits up.

"Wait, I'm dreaming. So did my brain just... make up a name for you? I mean, it fits, but it's not real, is it?" His confusion only amplifies when he sees the amusement in his stranger's - Dream's? - eyes. "What?"

"There is no such thing as 'just a dream', Hob. This isn't imaginary, I'd have thought you knew that by now."

Before Hob can formulate a response, Dream leans up and presses their mouths together gently.

The smile he gives Hob is so fond that his heart hurts. What hurts more, however, is the sound of his alarm as it jerks him from his slumber.

Needless to say, the next time Hob Gadling will dream of his Dream, he will have very many questions.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down: the director's cut, or rather, fun facts about this story now that it's over

luca's last name in my fic is davies, and formally davies-bernardi. bernardi in italian means 'strong as a bear' which, was truly a perfect coincidence that i originally thought it sounded good hyphenated with davies. it felt like the perfect little nugget to drop in here.

this one kind of took on a life of its own. I thought maybe a headcanon or a few chapters, then 46.5k words later... before writing a fic, i always like to map out where i'm going, because it helps me zero in on what story i want to tell. as someone (and who hasn't, truly) who has plenty of abandoned fics, i like to get clear on what story it is i want to tell before beginning to write so that i know it's a fic worth writing for me. no, i don't think finishing a fic should be a marker of success, but where i'm at right now, it feels like the best way for me to see if i have a story to tell or not.

speaking of stories to tell, the reason i wanted to have our main character divorced was because i wanted to try something different. i wondered how i could differentiate this mc (while keeping the reader neutral so you could picture yourselves in it if you wanted to) from others that i have written / will write in the future. the divorce and growing apart is actually kind of inspired by my previous upstairs neighbor who i met a year after his divorce. i wanted to imagine what the inner world of someone who had experienced a divorce that wasn't messy, but its relationship had just run its course and i the end, left two people who weren't sure who they were and how to talk to each other anymore would be like.

music and playlisting really helps me envision and feel into the world that I’m building. I ask myself questions like: what does their love sound like? what does this relationship shound like? how do i want the world i'm building feel, and how do i convey that in sound? and then of course, what songs could underscore certain moments of this chapter? listening to the playlist i create as i go really helps me get into character aka enter the world of the story when i'm sitting down the write.

so many of my fics and interactions are based on my own real life experiences, which is why they often feel so human and so real. i weave in little details like conversations i've had, a person i reminded of. i often write dialogue after i've imagined the scene in my head down to the cadence of how characters speak to one another to make sure it feels grounded.

speaking of, we've got to talk about the food in this fic, something that you all complimented me on at the very beginning! it was important for me to have the food feel deeply personal to reader, and be an expression of her identity through the years. yes, i wrote it with an mc with asian heritage in mind. however, i wanted to make space, again, for you to picture yourself in this fic, which is why mc's ex and family were written with japanese heritage.

a lot of the dishes were inspired by dishes i've had that were similar to what i think her culinary pov would be, and a lot of it is the way that i cook as well. i am not a chef by any means, but i am AM a home cook who occasionally does pop ups who very recently discovered my own culinary pov. food for me is something that not only helps me express myself, but has helped me connect to parts of my own identity. in so many ways, as someone who describes themselves as a cultural melting pot, food helps me feel closer to myself; it helps me find and define, and express who i am.

the culture of food and the role it plays in allowing us to connect was really important for me to weave into this story as well.

for the mikkelson twins, i pictured timothee and pauline chalamet as jesper and mathilde.

for the kimuras: rina sawayama would play astrid, darren barnet would play joe, and gia kim would play lina.

let's talk about luca's character development: so many things were so will poulter-coded/borrowed for will poulter, which felt right to do considering he wove his own life into the luca's tattoos. examples? the nike book, the kendrick lamar on the playlist, how much internal work the man has done on himself.

in the end, I initially had mc have a way bigger freak out than she did -- that it would be her final: holy shit am i ready to be loved moment, but as i wrote it, it ended up being luca who brought up the main conflict. it just ended up going in a different direction and didn't feel right to go with my original plan, because she felt so in their relationship already that i pivoted.

i watched a lot of travel and lifestyle copenhagen vlogs because i'm obsessed with youtube.

after season 2 of the bear, i wanted to explore what positive relationships with mothers could look like in these characters. that's why mothers (and single mothers) are the superheroes of this fic.

i knew i wanted this fic to be about these things: second love, loss, trusting the beginning that comes after the end, inspiration, following your heart, and mothers. these are the guiding principles that i used when writing, knowing that these were the pillars i wanted this story to be about.

looking forward: i am working on two oneshots that will live in this world, one about marcus visiting again -- an eat, pray, love for him of sorts -- that's about mothers and loss and life. the other one is a fun, sexy little smutshot that will hardlaunch their (she and luca's) restaurant so keep an eye out for those. truthfully, i've only just started workshopping the marcus one and am prioritizing finishing my carmy fic first.

opening myself up for q&a! feel free to ask any questions about this fic or my writing process in the comments.

[cassidysinferno]

snippet #2 — constantly rotting

CW — depressed / burnt out henchman , bed rotting , mentioning of medications, dissociating

Henchman hasn't picked up any of the calls from the Villain lately and dear god, Villain was displeased.

And for a good reason, Henchman was the most trusted out of all henchmen in the organization with how well they perform and how they had stayed with the villain since the beginning.

so, how did it all change? They showed up less and less ever since That incident, even if Villain had called or visited them, they didn't have the energy to get out of their bed- their boss being unhappy with their lack of presence was reasonable.

all they do is rot in bed. constantly felt like they were only wasting their years.

Hell, Henchman doesn't even have enough money to live anymore so not only were they on the brink of getting fired or even considering retirement at this point but also getting kicked out of their own apartment.

This is stupid.

They were unemployed in their personal life and even if they did show up at work again, they felt nothing but guilt as others started to talk to them less or try to avoid them ever since. They didn't even know what they did wrong?

so every conversation they tried to take part in felt awkward because of that.

They looked around their room, everything was..a mess.

They sat up on their bed, looking down at their scar filled arms. Why are they even willing to devote themselves to a criminal, thus risking their own life?

many thoughts ran to their head until their phone started to ring again. another daily call from their boss, apparently.

they let it ring until it hung up on itself, while waiting so they finally got up, put on their uniform, and got ready.

if they had remembered correctly, they were called for a personal meeting upon stepping in the building.

And if Henchman was being honest, they were anxious. but at this point, do they even care what would happen to them? no.

–

Well, that didn't go well. for the henchman, at least.

It felt like a counseling session rather than a meeting and it took them back to when they were in highschool.

back to when they got so fucked up that they got sent to therapy and put into medications.

the villain was..worried, yet displeased. they not only had known each other for awhile on the job but they've also been close.

fuck, they felt even more terrible after they were dismissed. going back here was a mistake.

They were ordered to organize more paperworks and, even if the villain didn't say it directly, they didn't want to disappoint the villain even further so they got to work.

Now here they are, printing copies of the documents the villain gave, I mean, most of the time they were dissociating anyway.

nothing felt real at this point, they felt extremely disconnected from their body. almost as if their own body doesn't belong to them.

they wanted to go back rotting in their room again but it seemed like it wasn't an option now that they were here.

they were just staring at the printer as the machine does its thing, well, at least their body is. they didn't seem to hear the knocking on the door of their little office the villain provided them until they felt a tap on their shoulder.

[earlgreytea68]

hi egt

what fob songs scream hiatus to you?

i need to experience emotional ruin real quick

God, there are so many, like, basically allll of Save Rock and Roll feels like them working through the hiatus together (not least because of how it has a higher percentage of Patrick lyrics than usual, probably because of him coming off his solo work). But the hiatus loomed so large for them as this nuclear blast in their relationship, it seems to bleed all through Pete's words (and hence their songs) for years afterward.

And it actually even starts before the hiatus, with the "What a Catch, Donnie" music video, which is the most hiatus-y thing to ever hiatus, Pete going down with his ship while he sends everyone else away to party without him. IT'S ALL SO SYMBOLIC.

And then to title a song on the first Believers Never Die album "From Now On, We Are Enemies." WHAT THE HELL hahahahaha WHAT A CHOICE, PETE WENTZ. (a downward spiral, just a pirouette and I only what what I can't have -- wanting what you can't have is a total hiatus theme for me that shows up a bunch in Pete's lyrics. I have not done an empirical analysis to see if it's a more prevalent theme after the hiatus or not.)

"The Phoenix" has obvious symbolism for their life as a band, raising their career from the ashes, changing themselves up like a remix, wearing their vintage of misery better than everyone else. Also, I love the imagery it has of peace, the "release the doves, surrender love" bit. Waving the white flag and putting down your weapons (in contrast to put on your war paint). But I've always kind of felt like surrender love is one of Pete's deliberate ambiguities: It could be "surrender your love" but it could also be "surrender, love." And Pete doesn't often use "love" as a term of endearment in his lyrics but he called Patrick "love" on stage not too long ago, so, you know, it seems not too outside the realm of possibility to think that these are really lines about reconciliation. It feels like time is running out, so let's surrender and hold tight.

Then there's "Alone Together": I'm outside the door, invite me in so we can go back and play pretend. The image of playing pretend / make-believe with someone also recurs in Pete's poetry, and it's something else I always read as Patrick-coded. Who did he used to "pretend" with for the sake of the shippers? And, of course, starting at the end of the road to ruin sounds like people who have burned everything down but are finding their way back.

I wrote a whole fic about "Where Did the Party Go" :-)

What is there to say about "Miss Missing You" that hasn't already been said? The infamous "hot whiskey eyes" line that honestly can only be about Pete Wentz lol. The imagery of the person you'd take a bullet for being behind the trigger: they have both at separate points in time proclaimed their readiness to take a bullet for the other. The fact that Pete wrote in a poem once before the hiatus I miss you missing me, and this song is I miss missing you. Like, everyone just die over this song.

To me "The Kids Aren't Alright" is a hiatus song in that it's about surviving the hiatus, coming through it, reversing the curse, it's our time now if you want it to be, in the end, I'd do it all again, I think you're my best friend.

"Fourth of July" is another hiatus song for me, the reference to the burned bridges being the light that leads you home is just so hiatus-y. Also, the torture of small talk with someone you used to love just smacks of the hiatus, of how they stopped talking to each other, of how they knew so little about each other and had to start over. This is more wanting what you can't have, too: my favorite what-if, my best I'll-never-know. I said I'd never miss you. I wish I'd known how much you loved me. It's so much, this song lol

Twin Skeleton's: ouch. This song is so painful. This song scrapes over your skin like sandpaper. This song is so angry and bitter. This song is I need a new partner in crime and you shrug. oh my GOD that line kills me every single time. That one and the way Patrick snarls, I could just die laughing on your spiral of shame. This is an angry song, but the anger is born of a depth of emotion and it ends with Patrick promising hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on over and over, and that's what makes it extra-hiatus to me, like, hold on, it all gets better, I'm coming back, hold on, hold on, hold on...

I find the hiatus infects their songs less and less the farther they get away from it, which is good. It's healing. As we've discussed, they've almost forgotten the whole thing even happened, it's been blurred over by the sands of time.

[betweenthejawsoffate]

I Will Shelter You All the Same (Sleep Token IV/Band)

IV hasn't been in the band long, only a few months, but a few things he knew for sure. 

Sleep was real

He was replaceable 

There was something most definitely going on between his bandmates

Read on AO3 here or below

He was well aware there were many before him, and even more aware that he wouldn't be the last. Though in the back of his mind he had always hoped that he would be. They had assured him many times that he was “their Ivy” the last. But isn't that what they said about the previous fours? 

The position seemed to be cursed with a revolving door of guitarists, while the core main three had always remained strong and steadfast. Not only bonded by their position in the band, or their servanthood towards Sleep, but also a deep personal connection. When IV had first moved into the manor they had hid most of it from him; but he was not dumb. Years of observing in the shadows had made him quiet and meek but not unobserving. Soft touches that lasted a little too long, quiet feet padding to the others rooms late at night. That and the fact that III was not a quiet man in any sense of the word, and it seems in many regards. 

IV was sitting on his bed reviewing some tabs when he first heard THAT, muffled through the manor walls but distinct nevertheless. At first he wasn't sure what the gentle knocking at the wall was, a constant and on time. He had almost confused it for II practicing keeping time, as if he would need practice of such a basic skill. Putting the tabs down he leaned into the wall to listen a bit closer. A high pitched whine soon followed the steady beat. IV launched himself away from the wall, his hand meeting his mouth to cover the sound of surprise. He knew the others were close, sure. He even suspected some sort of romantic entanglement between Vessel and II. But the whine was so clearly III and that wall was the one he shared with II. The steady beat began to change in tempo, the sound more clearly heard through the shared wall. The sound increasing, IV frantically began to search through the boxes that still littered his room for his head phones. Putting them tightly over his head, turning the volume as much higher then was probably safe for his ears; IV laid back down onto his bed tabs long forgotten. 

The next morning was quieter than normal. II typically  was up making tea in the kitchen but clearly he had been occupied the night before and had not surfaced. So instead IV set to work warming the kettle, pulling out each of their respective mugs before scanning the fridge for something to make for breakfast. It was fairly empty, a few eggs left over from III’s attempt of baking last week and some thick cut bacon Ves & him had picked up at the local markets; it was enough to make a meal for this morning at least. He got to quick work whisking up the eggs falling deep into thought at the repetitive behavior. 

IV didn't want the others to feel like they had to hide whatever was going on from him. It was clear that their affections went further than long term bandmates, but whatever that was he wasn't sure. If you had asked him yesterday morning he would have bet money on II & Ves being a thing, but this thing with III? He wasn't sure how that played out. IV had been in many bands before Sleep Token and none of them had… slept together the way this one seems to do. Not that he saw anything wrong with that, IV had a gay cousin or two back in his old life. He didn't see anything wrong with that aspect of his band mates relationship, was that what it was? He wasn't sure. IV let out a soft sign at the thought of that, no need to dwell on the past now, especially when his future still felt so up in the air. 

“Morning IV” came out a quiet hum from behind him.

IV had never been so thankful for the cloth masks that Vessel had insisted they wore then he was right now. A dark red blush slashed his face, ran down to his chest, running so warm he swore if II was just a little closer he would have felt it through the fabric. 

Of course he knew it was II that had kept III company the previous night, with his room having the shared wall and the normally early riser absent from his normal morning breakfast duties, it made sense. But logistically knowing this and facing the cause of the sounds he had heard last tonight were too different things entirely. The thump of the bed hitting IV’s wall, the repetitive high pitched whines that quickly became too loud for even headphones to muffle out, and oh god the memory of words shared between the two- IV had to stop he should not be thinking about his band mates like that. 

II moved to the collection of mugs IV had set on the counter earlier that morning, quietly inspecting the content of each. 

“Ves likes one sugar not two” II offhandedly corrected quickly, fishing out the extra cube, throwing it into III’s mug before moving to pour the boiling kettle. 

“Oh” IV simply answered, of course he knew that he was the one that often made their afternoon teas. But it seemed that all common sense had flown out the window this morning; all IV could think about was avoiding the gaze of II just a mere feet away from him. 

Get yourself together. Whatever happened last night was no different then the times in Uni when he had walked in on his roommate or the times on tour with his previous band; when the long weeks away from home would finally catch up on them. It was more common than you would think, to accidentally hear a fellow bandmate late at night going for a covert wank. He had never been this awkward about it then so why was this bothering him so much now?

II eyed IV carefully, “You alright IV?” This time II’s voice was much clearer and closer. 

Pulled from his thoughts IV yanked his head up and back looking straight at his band mate now standing just behind him. 

“Of course II” he added a little laugh at the end 

“Not much of a morning person thats all” It wasn't necessarily a lie, but II had a way of seeing past his band mates bullshit better then anyone else. 

II watched him closely, taking in the details on what very little of his face was visible behind their masks. Squinting his eyes slightly, before giving a small sign and gesturing to the spatula in IV hand. 

“Hand it over, your burning the eggs” 

IV didn't argue quickly, giving up the job to the admittedly, much better cook.

Pouring his and II teas in the meantime before settling down at the table. A calm silence filled the kitchen. 

The smell of food brought the others down. Vessel first, entering the kitchen pulling the arms of his hoodie over his hands, making a beeline straight for the mugs still resting on the kitchen counter before joining IV at the table without a single word. It was best to let him decide when to be perceived in the mornings, he was often up late composing or on rather tough evenings kept awake by dreams from Sleep. They all sat in a comfortable silence as II finished cooking up their meager breakfast, plating portions for each of them. They didn't wait for III as they began their meal together, he was usually the last of them to get up but typically the smell of food and the light morning chatter would drag him out of bed. They had barely begun when the distinct steps of III bouncing down the hallway stairs could be heard from the kitchen. III bursting into the kitchen, hand reaching for the grab the back of II then Vessel chairs leaning down to kiss their respective checks. 

This type of affection wasn't uncommon from III, he was a touchy guy often including IV both on and off stage. But with the memory still fresh in IV’s brain, it began to feel different. If it was just a platonic peak, why hadn't III also kissed his cheek? A strange feeling began to tangle itself in his chest, sneaking up his throat. It was a stupid thought in the first place, why would III want too? He was IV, not Vessel or II. He was there to play guitar and help around the house until he had run his usefulness dry and adventally when he had, they would replace him with another. Just like his previous bands had, just how his ex had, and just as Sleep Token had done before with the other IV’s. He didn't want to think why he wanted III to include him in these moments of intimacy like he did with the others but the thought had been creeping up on him for weeks. All coming to a head with the stupid sounds he heard the night prior. Fuck he couldnt stop thinking about them. 

II watched IV carefully from the other side of the table, while IV had been known to be quiet he was unusually so. Two hands gripping his mug taking slow sips of his tea, meal left untouched with a far away look in his eyes. II knew something was up, and he feared he knew exactly what was on the other man's mind. Turning his attention to III and Vessel he saw the two in a heated discussion about III recent outfit choices during the rituals. III always wanted to express himself more on stage while Vessel wanted little to distract the audience from their worship. An argument that they had had nearly once a week for months. Neither seem to be picking up on the shifting energy coming from their newest guitarist. 

They had been less and less discrete with their relationship as of recently. Testing the waters to see how IV would handle it. Maybe that had been a mistake? He had been respectful so far, not making comments about their flirty comments to each other or how sometimes their actions would push a little past plutonic. But it had been so long since II had been able to be open with his affection to his partners, he had begun to feel pent up. That and the constant teasing from III the previous night had come to a head, and while he relished being with one of his partners again. He also knew they had been careless. IV had clearly heard them; what else would explain the sudden change of personality. Gods, IV wouldn't even look at him. II turned back towards IV when he heard the scratch of their old kitchen chair sliding back. He watched the small man dump the remainder of his tea in the sink, pushing his untouched meal onto III’s plate before silently disappearing through the kitchen door. Vessel stared after him in confusion, half rising out of the chair before II had ushered him back down into his seat. 

“Give him some time, Ves.” A deep look of confusion covered Vessel’s face at II’s words. 

“III spent the night with me last night, things..” 

he paused a second trying to find the right words to explain to the first without making him feel left out.

 “...got a bit carried away. We share a wall…” ending the sentence with a little twist of his wrist hoping he understood what he was getting at. 

“Oh. I see.” Vessel simply said.

It was III who quickly butt in next. Hugging Vessel from behind and nuzzling his check into his neck. “I’m sorry baby, it wasn't like that. I know we said we would step back from those sort of things while IV got more acquainted with us, but it just kinda happened.”

Lifting his hand up to III’s check gently rubbing it Vessel shook his head slightly.

“I’m not mad or upset at you guys. I’m glad you had some time together, it's been too long. I’m just worried it's too soon. Fore was so upset with us when he left and IV has just finished learning the songs. We don't have time to find another replacement before tour.”

Surprisingly it was III that took a scolding tone, “Don’t talk like that Ves. We don't know what he heard and he didn't say anything this morning, right?” Vessel hummed uncommitted in his  response, turning slightly to catch III lips with his own seeking physical comfort from his partner. 

Pulling away after a few moments III continued, “Plus it’s IV, our Ivy. This is not like the others and you know it. Sleep is pleased with this addition Vessel, She wants him here as much as we all do. I can feel it; he belongs here, he belongs with us.”

 Vessel was not used to III chastising him in this manner, he was right of course this IV was different then the rest. It was an immediate connection they all had felt. It was the same feeling as when III had joined him and II. It was that connection that scared Vessel, they could not lose this IV like the others. They had to play it slow and safe. 

 Leaving the kitchen IV went straight to his room, kicking aside dirty clothes and half filled boxes in search of his gym trainers. A walk he had decided was what he needed to clear his mind. Get out of the house away from the boys, the stale air of the manor, and the never ending confusion he had been drowning in the past 12 hours. It didn't take long to find them, sitting on top of a box in a far corner of his room. Slipping them on he began quietly down the stairs towards the kitchen; with the intention of letting them know he was going for a run.

It was Vessel’s voice he heard first- “... IV has just finished learning the songs”

Were they talking about him? IV paused at the door listening for a moment longer. 

“We don’t have time to find another replacement before tour”. 

The breath caught in IV’s throat, he knew it. He fucking knew it. Stuffing his headphone into his ears, he shuffled out the door. He wasn't going to stand there and listen to what he knew was already true. He was replaceable. He had to try harder. No wonder they hid their soft touches from him, He was not worthy. 

Turning down their street IV begun to run.

[frost-link]

Can I have a Sidon x hylian reader angst fanfic or headcanon, where Sidon is in love with reader and wants to marry her, but he’s engaged to Yona, and his people might not like a hylian queen?

(Absolutely! I apologize if this is cheesy and short, it's currently 3AM!)

Where Fate Leads (Sidon X Reader Angst)

The sounds of water rippled throughout the architecture of Mipha's Court. The night was solemn, like the gentle rain falling from the gloom. Sidon stared upon Mipha's statue lost in thought. He pondered many different possibilities. What if his beloved sister was still alive? Would she have married Link? Would that have enabled the possibility of him getting to marry you instead? While the Zora had gained respect for Link, they had not opened their hearts to the idea of any other Hylians coming into the picture. Sidon had only ever seen Yona as a sister to him, you were the love of his life. His face was filled with so many different complex emotions. Words alone couldn't explain the pain he felt.

"Sister... I wish you were here to give me advice..." Sidon's voice was close to breaking. His fists were tightly clenched, as he was doing the best he could to maintain himself. "It's not fair, why must fate be so cruel?" He spoke quietly, soon shifting his gaze to the ground. He could see his own reflection being distorted from the rainfall. He was trying hard to control his own emotions. He didn't want anyone to see him in such a disheveled state. He soon heard a voice echo through his whole being.

"Sidon..." You had whispered gently, he immediately turned to you. He had lost his composure at the sight of you. He felt tears starting to pour from his golden irises.

"It's simply not fair, (Y/n). The only thing fate had ever done to me was take away the things I love." He had said in a broken tone. You had never heard or seen him like this before. He was clearly unhappy with his engagement to Yona. You approached him, softly grasping onto his tightened fists.

"Well, fate brought us together for a brief moment though, hasn't it? Isn't that at least a good thing?" You asked, trying to comfort him. You were beyond broken yourself but you wanted to be strong for him. You didn't want him to feel anymore pain. Sidon's hands had loosened a bit, before he moved them to hold yours.

"It's cruel nonetheless, my love... I'm always supposed to see the good in everything, but I can't see the good in fate right now, not when it's being the thing that's going to tear us apart." He cried to you, beginning to pull you into his arms. He held you close and tight, as if you would vanish if he ever let go.

"Sidon, I'll always love you. Even if you marry another. Even if we can't be together in this lifetime..." You murmured, feeling yourself wanting to cry as well. Sidon then pulled away.

"No... I refuse to let fate get in between us!" Sidon stated with a firm tone.

"Sidon, you can't just alter the arrangement. The Zora don't even like seeing us together..." You said trying to reason with him, you didn't want to watch his reputation crumble either. You wanted the best for him, your feelings didn't matter at this moment. This is what you told yourself anyway.

His saddened gaze turned into a stern one, eyeing you. "My people are important to me, (Y/n)..." Sidon starts, his voice picking up a bit more. "However, this supposed fate is not real to me... Not anymore. What's real to me is you. I don't care what my people think. They'll learn to get to know you, and eventually love you for who you are. If they can do that for Link, they can do it for you." He said, determined. He seemed to have a new possible spark in his slitted pupils. You nodded quietly at him. "I'll find a way to call off this engagement, my love." Sidon said before giving you a kiss on the forehead. To him, you were worth fighting for. Even if fate took that away.

[lunaslovelyrambles]

-> this is a sequel to this ficlet i posted a while back bc it's seemingly very popular - even still :)

— • — • —

your eyes haunt him. they have since the moment he got back to marley. whenever reiner has a moment of time to let his mind wander it always brings him back to you.

the pain he caused you, mainly, and that look in your eyes the last time he saw them. so full of hurt. and it was all his fault.

now, he's on the train back from the mid-east war. the constant fighting had worn his body to the bone. the stress of being on the front lines, and as a titan shifter nonetheless, wears him out more than the others.

he remembers back on paradis, before revealing himself as the armored titan, you had told him that he should take it easier.

"we're better when we fight together, after all! it's okay to let some of the others take on some of the burden as well."

he wished he listened to you. he wished he could go back to moments like that. moments where your eyes would light up as you nudged him, joking about stupid things.

but he couldn't. pieck lightly tapped his shoulder, breaking him out of thought.

"hey, we're almost back," she smiled at him, "spacing out, huh? must be thinking of something good if you were that out of it."

yeah, he thought, he was.

-x-

reiner can't think of many moments in his life where he's felt at such a loss for words. in those few moments, however, he thinks this one might take the cake.

you're standing in front of him. you're older, prettier - he didn't think that was even possible - and really here. you're not a figment of his imagination.

he thinks of so many things that he wants to say. he's missed you, he's thought about you every day, he's wanted nothing more than to see you again, you look so beautiful.

none of them come out.

because your eyes are downcast, sad. and only flickering to look at him every few seconds. his heart breaks.

"it's been a while, huh?" you barely even whisper it. still, just hearing your voice makes him shudder. he didn't realize just how much he missed hearing it.

he nods, still staring and still struggling to talk. hell, he can barely even believe this is real. that he's getting a chance to talk to you again, and that you aren't trying to kill him for what he did.

you sigh, tugging at a belt on your gear. he follows your fingers and then falls back onto your eyes, as always.

"look, i don't-"

"i'm sorry."

he finally cuts you off, and it's then that your eyes finally meet his for longer than a second.

"i-i'm so sorry."

it's all he can say. that's all he's wanted to say to you for years now. all he wanted was one chance to apologize to the hurt that he caused you. for making your eyes shine less.

if the only thing he does for the rest of his life is grovel and beg for forgiveness at your feet, he'd be okay with that.

you let out an airy chuckle and it catches him off guard.

"yeah, i know. i'm sorry too."

he can't fathom why on earth you are apologizing. he's done nothing but cause you pain, and you're apologizing to him?

he thinks for certain, now, that you're the opposite of the lies marley fed him about people on paradis. because no devil could ever be as angelic as you are.

and as he gapes at you, awestruck by your words, you smile at him and that light in your eyes returns for the briefest of moments.

-x-

he wakes with a start. years have gone and passed since the battle of earth, yet the nightmares still haunt him. he thinks that they always will, even a little. however, they have gotten better over time.

"good morning," you smile down at him.

well, especially with you by his side.

reiner huffs a response, still too deep in sleep's depths to form words. the sunlight pours in through the open window next to you. he could've sworn he died and went to heaven.

he hasn't. and he thanks every god out there for allowing him to find such peace in this lifetime.

you brush some hair lightly out of his face with your hand, the coolness of the ring on your finger making him sigh. his eyes shut instinctively. it's too bright, too early.

"we have to go meet the others today, don't fall back asleep on me." your voice was so light, so pleasant. he's finding it hard to listen.

his eyes open again and he meets yours for the first time this morning. he's met with that all too familiar gaze.

the one that he saw after he kissed you for the first time. or when he snuck out of the barracks with you all those nights to look at the stars. the look when he asked you to marry him.

his eyes look back with the same feelings, and he feels happiness.

— • — • —

-> masterlist