#came to tumblr immediently to see if this was just a me problem :'(

[i-dont-r3member]

NOOOOOO BELOVED COME BACK

[piut0-e]

NOOOOOOO

[sun-kissy]

light | bucky barnes

bucky barnes x sunshine!reader; neighbour au — ★ 1k words

summary: bucky meets you, his bright, new neighbour, and is instantly endeared

tw: nothing, tooth-rotting fluff <3

a/n: first time writing for bucky… please be nice 🥲 consider this my official letter of intent into the mcu fandom on tumblr LOL

Ding dong! Bucky is quick to get to the door, abandoning his attempts at brewing coffee. The espresso machine Sam had gotten him sits sadly on the kitchen platform, likely broken from the looks of the dented knob and crooked buttons. Some things he could get a hang of easily — appliances were not one of them, and neither was using his metal arm with gentleness. He’d have to try and fix it back up later.

He pulls the door open, pleasantly surprised to see you standing there, with your twinkling eyes and sweet smile. Bucky hadn’t known what love felt like in a long, long time. But he thought the ache in his heart when he first saw you came dangerously close to it.

His first encounter with you was a couple of days ago, when he was just moving in. Dr. Raynor had told him that a move would be good for him, giving him a chance to have a fresh start. Bullshit. The only thing he’d gotten out of the new neighbourhood so far was a headache because of the sweltering heat, and a pulled muscle in his arm — the non-metal one — from hauling boxes up the stairs to his apartment.

He was busy cursing his therapist under his breath when you showed up, like some sort of angel in his plight. You jogged over to him brightly, hand wrapped around the leash of a fluffy brown dog. Bucky’s first instinct was to push you away when you offered to help. But you were persistent, and he gave in on account of shutting you up.

Your smile had widened immediately, and he remembered wondering how anyone could be so happy to help a stranger.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Your enthusiasm only grew with each minute you spent together. It was like you couldn’t stop chattering — asking him where he was from, how long he was going to stay, and everything else under the sun. He hadn’t asked, but he got to know a lot about you too. He now knew you worked in a clinic near the neighbourhood, you lived alone with your dog (whose name was Milo), and that you weren’t particularly close to any family.

Bucky couldn’t help but soften more and more by the second. You were incredibly endearing, all soft smiles and loud laughter. It was like catching the first glimpses of morning light after being locked up in darkness for a lifetime, and frankly, he was smitten. You told him that you lived a few floors up and that you’d be back to visit soon. When you held Milo’s paw in your hand, the dog all bundled up in your arms, and waved him the most adorable little goodbye, he knew he was gone.

He was more than happy to see you on his front door today. You were all dolled up, pink tube top with a frilly white skirt. He couldn’t help the smile that quirked his lips. “Hey.”

“Hi!” you chirp, already digging into your bag for something. Bucky eyes you with an arched eyebrow as you pull out a Tupperware box, handing it to him excitedly. “Brownies.”

“For me?” He hesitantly takes it from you, surprised. There’s a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach.

You step into the house as he pulls the door open wider, confirming it with a nod. “Yeah, for you. Baked them myself.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, closing the door behind you. No one’s ever done something like this for him before, niceness for the hell of it. It makes him want to pull you into a hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all,” you brush him off, flashing him a small smile before turning your attention to his living room. He watches as you peruse the place curiously, eyes darting all over before landing on the espresso machine. “So, James…” you start unsteadily as you walk towards the kitchen.

Bucky lets out a huff of laughter. “James? Where’d you get that?”

“I asked the security guard downstairs about you, didn’t let him off till he told me your name,” you smile sheepishly, twirling your curls around your finger. “He said it was James Buka… Bucha…”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he interrupts with a fond sort of amusement. “Bucky for short.”

“Bucky,” you repeat with a giggle. “Cute. I like it. Also, do you need help with this?” You gesture at the smoking coffee machine, spilt puddles of the liquid dotting the kitchen platform.

“Oh, um,” he shrugs, a light pinkness dusting his cheeks. “Sure.” He watches as you grab a new mug and pour some milk into the machine. Your tongue juts out adorably as you click the buttons concentratedly. “What’s yours?”

“Y/n,” you mutter, straightening up proudly as the brown liquid starts to spout into the mug. You turn to him with an accomplished grin. “It’s working.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, heart squeezing in his chest when you give him a wink. “Y/n. That’s a pretty name.”

Bucky swears he can see the blush on your cheeks, but it’s hard to make out with your back turned to him. You busy yourself with wiping the spilt coffee, but he hears the smile in your voice when you thank him.

You hand him his coffee before grabbing one yourself, making yourself comfortable on his couch. He leans against the platform as he talks to you.

Surprisingly, you’re not as chatty today. Perhaps you were more comfortable around him, feeling less of a need to fill the silence. He tells you about the war when you point to a picture on the wall, one from the 40s, in which his arm is slung around Steve’s shoulder. He’s glad you don’t ask about Steve.

Soon, you make to leave. “I have an appointment with a friend,” you smile apologetically as you stand, dusting yourself off. “This was fun, though.”

Bucky nods and walks you to the front door, pulling it open. “It was.”

“See you around sometime?” you ask hopefully as you pull your heels on.

He softens, voice tinged with affection. “Sure. Why don’t you come over for lunch tomorrow, if you’re free?”

“Really?” you beam. “Great. I’ll be here.”

You call out to Bucky as you make your way to the stairs, vigorously waving your hand in farewell. He gives you a small wave in return, trying his best not to smile.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello queen. You are my favourite writer on tumblr. I'm always so excited when I see that you updated something. Could I please request Carlos daughter being a huge Barcelona football fan instead of Real Madrid. And when the drivers all together watch a game against those two and Real wins, Carlos daughter running to Charles cause her father made her team lose

Thank you so much 💓

Real vs Barca

The paddock buzzed with its usual pre-race energy. Engineers ran last-minute checks, journalists hovered with their microphones at the ready, and fans crowded the stands, hoping for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. But amid all the racing chaos, Carlos had only one thing on his mind today: El Clásico.

It wasn’t just any match—it was Real Madrid vs. Barcelona. A day of rivalry, passion, and, most importantly, a chance for him to rub in Madrid’s superiority once and for all.

But there was one major problem.

His own daughter, Yn, was a Barcelona fan.

Carlos still didn’t understand how it happened. He had done everything right. When Yn was born, he had immediately wrapped her in a Real Madrid onesie, played Madrid anthems in the nursery, and even taught her to clap whenever he said “Hala Madrid.” For a while, it worked. She would happily wear Madrid’s white jersey, cheering along without question.

Then she turned four.

Suddenly, she had opinions. Suddenly, she loved FC Barcelona.

It had started with her favorite color—blue. Then it was the cool Barcelona crest, then the way her little heart decided Gavi was her favorite player. And now, today, in the motorhome filled with drivers who came to watch the game, she stood proudly in a tiny Barcelona jersey with Gavi’s name printed on the back.

Carlos groaned in despair.

“Mi amor, por favor, why are you doing this to me?” he sighed dramatically, kneeling to her level.

Yn giggled, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “Barca is the best, Papá!”

“No, mija, Madrid is the best,” Carlos corrected, fixing her jersey like he could erase the colors from existence. “We are Madridistas in this house.”

Yn shook her head firmly. “I am Barca.”

“Dios mío,” Carlos muttered, standing up as Max, Lando, Pierre, and Charles walked into the room, holding bowls of snacks and drinks.

“Are we ready for the drama?” Lando smirked, plopping onto the couch.

“The game or the father-daughter war?” Pierre teased, nodding toward Carlos, who had his arms crossed, glaring at the tiny Barcelona fan.

“The war,” Max answered, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Because if Barca wins, Carlos might actually cry.”

Carlos groaned. “She’s four! She’s supposed to listen to me.”

“She’s four,” Charles corrected, leaning against the table with a smug grin. “She does what she wants.”

Yn grinned up at her uncle Charlie and reached her little arms out. “Up!”

Carlos watched in horror as his own daughter abandoned him and climbed into Charles’ arms, snuggling against him.

“Oh, come on!” Carlos threw his hands in the air. “She’s my daughter!”

“She’s also my niece,” Charles teased, poking Yn’s side and making her giggle. “And clearly, she has taste.”

“She does not have taste!” Carlos objected. “She’s four, she doesn’t even know what taste is!”

Yn gasped dramatically. “I do know! And Barca is better.”

Max whistled lowly. “Oof, Carlos, I think she’s got you there.”

Carlos covered his face with his hands. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

As the game started, the room filled with anticipation. Carlos sat on the couch, Yn nestled beside Charles, her little legs swinging off the edge. Every time Barcelona touched the ball, she cheered loudly, clapping her hands.

Carlos groaned. His own daughter was against him.

“She’s happy,” Charles said with a chuckle, rubbing Yn’s back.

“I am not,” Carlos deadpanned.

The game was intense. Real Madrid took the lead, and Carlos cheered loudly, pumping his fists in the air. Yn pouted, crossing her arms. Then Barcelona equalized, and she jumped up, screaming excitedly, throwing her little arms around Charles.

Carlos watched in betrayal.

When Real Madrid scored again, Carlos lifted his arms victoriously.

“¡Vamos! That’s what I’m talking about!” He grinned at Yn. “See, mi amor? Madrid is better.”

Yn stuck out her tongue at him. “Not true!”

The final minutes were nerve-wracking, but when the referee blew the whistle, the score read 2-1 to Real Madrid.

Carlos jumped up, celebrating like he had won a Grand Prix.

Yn, however, looked absolutely devastated. Her little face fell, her lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears.

“Mi niña, don’t be sad,” Carlos said quickly, kneeling in front of her. “It’s just a game, okay? You’ll win next time.”

Yn sniffled. Then, her little eyebrows furrowed, and she glared at Carlos.

“This is your fault.”

Carlos blinked. “What?”

Yn stomped her tiny foot. “You were too happy! That’s why Barca lost!”

The entire room erupted into laughter.

“No, no, no,” Carlos quickly shook his head, trying to grab her hands, but Yn turned and ran straight into Charles’ arms.

Carlos was left, kneeling on the floor, watching as his daughter buried her little face into Charles’ chest while he rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Carlos,” Lando wheezed through laughter.

Pierre wiped a tear from his eye. “Man, you shouldn't have cheered so much for Real. Look at poor Yn.”

“Not my fault!” Carlos objected, still in shock. “Why am I the bad guy?”

Yn peeked up from Charles’ shoulder and glared at her Papá. “Because you made Barca lose.”

Carlos groaned dramatically. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Max clapped him on the back. “At least Madrid won?”

Carlos sighed, defeated, watching his daughter cling to Charles. He would need a new strategy. Maybe next season, he could convince her to switch teams. Until then… he had lost this battle.

But not the war.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves!I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[eempyreall]

♪ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♪

༺ Beneath The Waters ༻

Oneshot ~ Blue Lock x Female Reader

Summary ~ As a marine biologist, you rescue an injured siren. Now, five of them are obsessed with you—and they’ll never let you go.

Featuring ~ Bachira Meguru, Chigiri Hyoma, Nagi Seishiro, Itoshi Rin, and Itoshi Sae

Extra Notes ~ Tokyo Revengers’ Version - Jujutsu Kaisen‘s Version - Oc’s Version

*I am not a marine biologist, I searched up everything that pertains to the career.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr, ao3, wattpad, subscribestar, and patreon. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

|| Warning ||

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

The ocean always harbored a serene atmosphere at night.

Although you spent most of your days amidst the sea, working alongside your team as the waves rocked against the trawler, you couldn’t deny the tranquil ambience of sitting on shore while the stars glowed amongst the nightly blue firmament.

To clarify, you enjoy your career. Although there are different categories of work, such as laboratory and data analysis, you spend your day diving into the deep seas, collecting sea specimens, studying all the beauty the earth provides underwater, and giving your fellow biologists something to write about.

It contrasted with your lingering fear of the deeper abyss that the ocean conceals. There was always an underlying edge of caution when dealing with the intrusive thoughts that plagued your mind. You spent most of your time in reefs—the brighter, most pleasing section of the sea.

“You ready to get going?”

You shift your head towards the voice that came from your right.

Your eyes meet the dark irises of one of your teammates, a close friend of yours who studied alongside you during your growth in the marine industry. You lift yourself from the sand, pants slightly stained from the debris, as you brush your palm along your bottom.

“Nah. I’m gonna stay a little longer,” you reply, sighing as you eye the gentle waves of the sea. “You can go without me. I know that we got an early shift tomorrow.”

Riku raises a brow at you while crossing his arms. “You know that even if they’re real, you’re not gonna find anything, right?”

Ah, I’m about to get the same lecture, aren’t I?

You roll your eyes as you place your hands against your hips. “Mind your business, Riku,” you sing playfully, but with an edge of solemnity in your tone.

He hums. “I’m just saying, Y/n. You’ve looked quite exhausted the last few shifts. Your hyperfixation on mermaids is becoming a problem,” he says, his voice laced with concern and slight annoyance.

You scoff, crossing your arms as you face ahead. “First of all, the term is siren. Second of all, you don’t need to worry about me. I still get my work done.”

You miss the solemn expression that appears on his face—the familiar guise of pity that always makes you shift with discomfort.

“Look, I know more than anyone that it’s hard to heal from a family member’s death, but Y/n, you’ve got to let it go.”

The statement sent a shift through your entire body, tension stiffening you in place as the memory swirling in your brain flickered before you.

“Shit! Everyone, grab the earplugs!” the leader of your team shouts.

You immediately turn to your bag, rummaging through the contents before you snatch the cord. You shove the plugs into your ears just as the song begins. Although you can feel the vibration of the melody against your chest, the blockage of your ears keeps you safe from the siren’s frequency.

When you turn around, the relief that had rushed through you drops vehemently as your eyes flick over the five members of your team—including your brother.

Your breath hitches as you watch the color drain from his eyes, his body stiff in a trance as he faces toward the siren who peers from the waves of the sea. You can only see her multicolored eyes and the pale blue hair that’s flat against her head, the rest of her strands floating around her as she stares at the men.

You feel breathless, panting as you watch them take a step forward, in unison. A spike of fear surges through your spine as the pit in your stomach deepens. You dash toward your brother, nails digging into his shoulders as you stand in front of him, using all of your weight to keep him from jumping off of the trawler.

The splashes of the others are loud, despite the plugs blocking your ears. It only makes the lump in your throat burn as you make eye contact with your brother. As a result of the dullness filling his orbs, you know that it’s too late. He’s already gone.

But you don’t stop. You continue to press against him as the sobs escape your lips.

“Please, B/n! Please, wake up,” you weep.

The siren reaches for the first man, her claws splitting the flesh of his skin as she begins her feast, ropes of red already staining the waters as the rest of the humans swim toward her. Your head shifts to the side to see that a few more sirens have appeared, the women beginning their attacks on the men. One peers from the side, awaiting the release of your brother.

Despite his dream-like state, he is strong. He pushes against you like a stone wall. His expression is bare of any emotion as he continues to stare at the ocean, shoving against you like a non-playable character in a game.

Eventually, you can’t hold on any longer.

For a while, you couldn’t forgive yourself. Despite your first shift ending in a massacre, you couldn’t accept how weak you were against the creature’s voice.

It ached.

You sat on the trawler, weeping, until the S-O-S boat arrived. You tried to warn them, but nobody believed you. It was an unexplainable event. They kicked it under the rug, rolled it up, and burned it—as if nothing happened.

It was only you and your brother, so there was no memorial. No familial speeches from family or friends, as neither of you had any, aside from Riku, who stood by your side through it all. Still, his mind couldn’t be changed along with the rest. He only accepted your obsession through pity and nothing else.

“You can go home, Riku,” you say, a tone laced with firmness and an impending rage that you keep within wraps.

His eyes flicked over you for a moment before he exhaled sharply, guilt reaching his core. “Y/n, I’m sorry—.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up and leave?” Your eyes narrowed in his direction, fingers curling around your thumbs as you squeezed before releasing the tension.

His lips pressed into a thin line before he nodded, grabbing the keys from his pocket and turning away. “See ya tomorrow,” he says before walking off.

Another hour passes as you sit on the beach, well into midnight, watching the breeze gently push against the waves. You finally stand once more, brushing yourself off as you turn towards the pathway leading to the parking lot.

An unfamiliar sound catches your attention, along with a splash of waves that echo near you. You pause, listening for a moment as your ears search for the unknown frequency once more. Your head shifts to the right as you hear another high-pitched wail coming from the distance. It was slightly guttural, a broken hum of distress.

Before you could register your own movements, you find yourself walking towards the frantic melody. Your heartbeat thuds against your chest as you follow the noise. Your pulse throbs as you feel the hairs on your skin stand tall.

That sound… it’s not quite the same, but…

Once you reach the spot, your muscles stiffen in place, brows raising in shock.

Lying in front of you is a distressed male who holds the upper body of another. His wet black strands frame the sharp features of his facial structure as he looks down at the unmoving male. His dark eyelashes conceal his irises as a frown laces his expression.

His skin is a silk cream, and the translucent top of his ears forms into elongated tips, almost resembling skin-colored, iridescent fins. The same texture protrudes from the sides of his arms, though with a black-turquoise-hued tinge. His claws are long, gently grazing against the cheeks of the male below as he holds him against the lap of his long black tail that was laced with turquoise undertones.

The male below him matches the fish-like features, though the pigment laces a deep purple against his fins and long tail. His plum-colored hair is disheveled and wet, though flaring under his head as the siren holds him. His eyes are shut, irises concealed by his lids as he seems to be trapped within a deep slumber.

Crimson covers the side of his torso, staining the sand beneath. From the distance you stand, you fail to see the exact wound. Your brows furrow as determination sets into your core, and you turn your back to the sirens as you jog to your car.

Why do I feel the urge to help? I should just let him die.

But you know that it isn’t fair to blame them for a tragedy that occurred years ago. It isn’t fair to blame the entire species for something that’s a part of their nature.

Your search for their existence is only to prove to yourself and the others that the incident wasn’t imagined. That sirens are real and should be studied. This only motivates you for your shift tomorrow.

After you return with the first aid, you steadily make your way towards the two men, earplugs stuck in your ears as you walk closer. You can’t deny the pressure in your chest, anxiety striking you the closer you get.

Once the conscious siren noticed another presence, he shifted his gaze towards you, piercing teal irises peering through the lashes that lined his lids. You pause when you recognize the tension of his muscles, a scowl reaching his expression as a distorted melody rang from his lips.

You held your hands up in surrender, ensuring that your movements remained slow and gentle so as to not alarm the creature. A memory of the section of a passage you read during your studies of this mythological species reminded you of their ability to understand various languages, humans included. It was adapted for survival as their variety grew.

“It’s alright. I’m not here as an enemy, but as an aid,” you say, voice proper as you point towards the first aid kit in your hand. “I see that your friend is hurt. I’ve only come to help, if you’ll let me.”

He didn’t move. His gaze remained locked on you with a menacing guise. Despite the danger that radiated off of the creature, you recognized his urge to protect his loved one. It was expected.

You twist the box to face his view, unclipping the clasp as you open the lid, allowing him to observe the contents clearly. “As you can see, I mean no harm. With that amount of blood loss, your friend doesn’t have much time. Just let me help, please,” you say with a calm tone.

Why do I want to help them so bad?

Maybe his protectiveness of the unconscious being reminded you of the feelings you had during your brother’s trance. You understand what it feels like to have someone ripped away from you under circumstances you can’t control. Both sirens are vulnerable in this state. It’s clear that the teal-eyed male cares deeply for the man below him.

You watch as his eyes narrow, his expression revealing his contemplation as he stares at you with wonder. Eventually, he bowed his head to the side, nodding over to the other siren in defeat. You exhale in relief, heading over to the injured man before you kneeled beside him.

You rummaged through the box as you grabbed the necessities to dab, clean, and wrap the wound. The black-haired male watched you with caution, eyes roaming over your movements as you tended to the wound.

I never thought I’d ever be in this predicament.

But you didn’t hate it. To be able to help another aid a loved one, despite the resentment you held for the species, caused warmth to spread throughout your stomach.

The patch-up didn’t take long.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t known you were holding in as you clipped the box shut. The torso of the siren was successfully wrapped.

“I’d advise you to stay out of the water for a little longer, just to give the bleeding time to stop,” you suggest. You already knew that sirens could stay above water for long periods of time. They could live on land if they had legs, though some studies show that very few can transform their tails.

The siren only stared at you with the same cautious look as before, though it had slightly softened. Suddenly, movement catches both of your attention as both of your eyes shift toward the man below you. The man’s eyelids flutter open as he reveals bright, teal irises that flick over to you.

You couldn’t shake the strike of anxiety that surged through your spine, heart beating against your chest as he studied you with an intense gaze. His eyes shifted downward to his wound as you began to grab the box.

I think it’s time for me to leave.

Before you can lift yourself from the ground, a clawed hand shoots to your jaw as you’re held in place. You feel shock contort amongst your expression as your body stiffened to the tight grip.

What the fuck?

The creature leaned forward, slightly flicking his wrist to observe your features with his eyes slightly squinted, as if he was analyzing data and saving it to a file in his brain.

Your hand reached for his wrist, gently lowering it as you picked yourself up from the sand.

“Um… get better,” you quickly say, turning away as you walk toward the parking lot. You cursed yourself for the lack of knowledge on what else you could’ve said, slightly embarrassed.

You could feel their gazes locked on your back as you made your way off the beach.

The next morning was uneventful, your daily routine of deep-diving into the sea stretched throughout the day. It was finally the afternoon, your team filing the samples you and Riku had just collected from the reef you are currently studying.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the sirens you had met the night before. On one hand, you wanted to inform Riku of what you had experienced, wishing you had taken a picture from your phone as proof, but on the other hand, you knew that it wouldn’t have been an appropriate time for that. You also understood that Riku would remain stubborn with his disbelief until you provide physical evidence.

It was a lost cause.

“Break’s over. Let’s get going!” your team leader yelled across the small ship.

You eye the surface of the waves, heavily pushing along the foundation of the ship while the anchor holds you all in place. The sky is a bright blue, clouds streaking across the firmament as the sun shines a bright yellow. It’s a beautiful day, and yet, you couldn’t rid yourself of the pit that formed in your chest.

“Hey, Y/n. I still want to let you know that I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. You were right that it’s none of my business,” Riku said as he prepared the scuba gear on his form.

You followed along, chuckling in response as you placed the mask over your face. “I know. It’s whatever,” you say before patting him on the back. “We’re good.”

He nodded as he placed the snorkel in his mouth, slightly smiling in return before he hopped into the water. Shortly after, you followed his form as you dived into the ocean.

Your arms swayed against the pressure of the water as you peered through the goggles. You swam towards the opposite direction of Riku, aiming for the area that you were assigned to.

Moments later, you reached the colorful section of the reef, passing by various types of fish and sea creatures, some of which you found fascinating to observe. Once you reached the species of fish you were focused on for the shift, you connected a biologging sensor to the animal so that the laboratory could collect data on the behavior and whereabouts of the creature without hurting it.

During your session of tracking the correct species, a familiar sound echoed throughout the vicinity as your body floats. When your head turns in the direction of the noise, a swift force circled around your figure, startling you in the process as the bubbles of the water lined your vision.

Once it all settles, your eyes widen behind the goggles as you stare at the male siren in front of you.

His features aren’t far from the fins you had seen attached to the sirens during the previous evening. The translucent hue is tinged with a bright yellow, along with the elongated tail that curled around your form as he observed you. His dark locks flared above his neck, yellow undertones prominent as his bangs framed his sharp features.

As he studied you with golden orbs shifting over your form, his head tilted in recognition before a smile curled on his expression, revealing his sharp teeth. If you hadn’t studied the body language of sirens for so long, you would’ve thought you were going to be his next meal. He merely looked curious until he gave you a knowing glance.

Suddenly, you jolted as he released a loud frequency through his lips.

You listened as the rush of water appeared from your sides, head shifting left and right as you searched for the source.

Suddenly, you feel a hand grip your arm as you’re tugged to the side, your eyes shifting over to the new male who appeared.

Another male with similar fish-like features as the former siren came into view. His color scheme is a silky white, iridescent fins tinged with the hue as his claws wrapped around your arm. His platinum strands flowed around his head, his bangs framing his face. His white tail curled against the pressure of the water.

His lids are a natural slant, gray irises shifting over you with a lazy look plastered on his expression. Your brows raise in confusion at the ambush. Before you can yank your arm out of his grip, you felt a constriction against your opposite arm as another male appeared on the other side of your form.

You face the third siren, a man with long, red strands that flare amongst the water. The edge of his fins are laced with a bright green hue, the scales of his elongated tail matching the color scheme.

His eyes flicked over you with a studious expression, lips falling apart as an unsettling, melodic frequency echoed from his mouth, revealing his razor sharp teeth.

Your breath hitches as you’re pulled forward, the force abrupt as the water rushes past you. The two men gripping your arms follow behind the yellow-tailed siren as they make their way through the depths of the ocean, leading you deeper.

What the fuck? Where are they taking me?

You hoped that they wouldn’t travel deep enough for your lungs to compress. Despite your attempts to escape, their claws grazed your skin as their fingers curled tightly around you.

Suddenly, you noticed the lowered percentage of your oxygen tank, eyes widening as you realized you had strayed underwater for far too long. You begin to thrash in their hold, your movements more desperate than before.

Finally, the sirens stop in place, turning their attention to you with a mixture of confusion and annoyance on their expressions. You quickly gesture toward your tank and make a breathing motion before pointing upward.

They pause for a moment, giving each other a quick glance before releasing your arms. You hold your hands up in surrender before swimming upwards, rushing to the surface in a desperate attempt to make it before your oxygen runs out.

Once you made it back to the surface, water splashed around you as you broke through the waves, reaching for the strap that connected you to the ship and pulling yourself onto the platform. Your chest heaves as you fumble with the straps of the mask, yanking it off as you pant.

“Y/n? What the hell happened? You were under for so long I almost came to find you!” Riku exclaimed, rushing toward you as he grabbed the equipment from your hands to help you out of your gear.

You only continue to ease your breathing as the memories of what just occurred swirled through your mind. You couldn’t concentrate on Riku’s muffled words. Your vision is slightly distorted, a sudden dizziness causing your body to feel heavy as your head shifts toward the ocean.

Your thoughts morphed into jumbled words as darkness reached your vision, engulfing you into the void that tugs at your consciousness.

You felt the breeze kiss against your skin as your eyelashes fluttered open. The rays of the sun shine bright over you, the warmth engulfing your skin. As you slowly pull your upper body up from the ground, you could feel the sand sticking to your arms and legs. As you lean forward, your eyes perk, startled as you notice the men sitting around your figure.

What are they doing here? What am I even doing here? Wasn’t I on the ship?

You blinked as you noticed Sae sitting beside you, legs replacing the tail that once was there. His arm rested over a propped knee as his bare feet pressed against the sand, shorts concealing his lower region.

Wait�� did I just identify his name? How do I even know it?

You look around, seeing the men sitting around you. Meguru sat on your right in the same position as Sae, though with shorts that matched the yellow tail he once had. You eyed the back of Rin’s head, black hair waving against the wind as he stared ahead, sitting in front of you, black shorts covering his bottom.

Your brows furrowed as you twisted yourself around, eyeing both Seishiro and Hyoma who sat behind you, though with their legs stretched out and ankles crossed, leaning on the back of their palms as they didn’t even spare a glance.

What the fuck is going on? Why do I know all of their names?

Your heart begins to race as you try to make sense of the situation. Something feels wrong.

This… this doesn’t feel real.

“Did you know that soulmates can feel a pull towards each other, even when they’re miles apart?” Sae’s calm voice cuts through the silence before you turn your attention to him.

You feel puzzled by his statement. “Soulmates?” you question, confusion lacing your tone.

You couldn’t see it, but as you walked away from the injured siren and his brother, a long, red thread protruded from your back as it connected you to the men’s chests, splitting at the end as the sirens eyed the fabric.

“It’s her. She’s the fated sixth.”

The male turned his head slightly, facing you with a stoic expression. “You can swim all you want, but the tide will always pull you along, no matter how hard you try to fight it.”

Suddenly, a rush of water fills your lungs as your eyes widen, your reality shifting underwater as the depths of the ocean carry you along. Your mask is vacant, along with the oxygen tank that was yanked off of you.

You couldn’t breathe. Your mouth was forced open by the pressure of the water as if it was filling your body. You gasped, suffocating as you thrashed against the surface.

Riku was in front of you, reaching for you with terror drawn over his expression. But then you notice the crimson tendrils that float around him, lowering your gaze amidst the chaos of your erratic motion as you yelp, his lower body completely detached from his torso. He was split from the middle, nothing but a gaping, fleshy hole, his insides floating.

As your vision begins to blur, you realize that you never escaped the ocean. You never even had a chance.

Glowing eyes settle around you as the sirens circle your form, the threads constricting any movement as you float in the middle of the formation. A light glows from the bottom of the sea, spreading throughout the vicinity as it engulfs your dying form.

Pressure forces your legs to press together, contorting your limbs into an unnatural formation as you twist and turn against the threads. Pain erupted throughout your body as you released a guttural scream from the agony shooting through your lower half.

Eventually, you couldn’t feel your legs as you normally would. They stretched until scales covered the skin, a multicolored hue forming as a long tail emerged from your body. You could feel your arms and ears shifting, fins protruding from your skin, matching the color of your tail.

You didn’t have time to feel the disbelief, shock, or devastation as the familiar void tugs at your essence.

—𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝��𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.

—𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 (𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜)

wc: 1375

You sit up in bed, breathing ragged as you hold a hand to your chest. Your lips are apart as the sweat beads along the lining of your forehead. You quickly pat the palms of your hands against your neck and torso as you ensure that you’re alive and physically apparent.

The lowering sun gleams through the crack of the curtains as it shines over the bedroom. You snatch the covers from your lower half, examining your legs as you curl your toes for reassurance. You exhale a slow breath as you fall back onto your pillow in relief.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

YOUR HEART WAS GLASS, I DROPPED IT ❆

katsuki bakugou x reader

on a cold winter night, you open the door for your warm, ex boyfriend katsuki.

part 2/2. i’m sorry tumblrs not letting me link anything atm :(

inspired by champagne problems

katsuki booked his flight home at night for a reason.

it was dark, meaning no one really would be out. he wanted to be alone and sit there in his hurt. he wasn’t sure what he hated more- the bustling crowds or silent sleepers. both of them had a clear absence of you.

the winter chill seeps into his bones as he waits outside your door. after the phone hangs up, we anxiously wonders if you’ll even answer it. its -26°, and he can only imagine your bundled up in there. its the place he left you standing before hoping on a plane and abandoning what he had with you.

he’s about to turn away, before he hears your voice. “get in here, it’s freezing.”

he immediately obliges, stepping into the familiar space. crimson eyes stare at you, noticing your different appearance. you’ve cut your hair and pierced your ears. theres an ache in his chest seeing you for the first time again. suddenly the apartment began to feel much warmer.

“your hair. its… shorter.” he awkwardly mutters like a teenage boy asking you to a dance.

“uh, yeah. i wanted a change.” you chuckle, no less uncomfortable than him.

he wants to take your hand, but he’s scared he’ll drop it again. your place was cozy, yet crestfallen. he remembered you told him you never particularly enjoyed living alone. you lead him to the living room. there, he sees your cats cuddling, slightly jealous of the companionship they share.

its here he notices that its still chilly, albeit not as cold as outside. he quickly clutches his hands around the warm cup of tea you bring him, taking in the mundane sounds of your apartment. leftovers on the stove, the dripping of the sink, and the soft snores of your feline companions.

“sorry, my heaters still broken.” you apologetically quip, sitting down next to him on the couch. katsuki mentally facepalms himself for that. he said he’d fix it for you before he left.

“yeah. guess i forgot about that.” he says, barely looking you in the eye. if he was gonna break up with you, leave you stranded and hop on a flight out of the country, you think the least he could do is make sure you stayed warm- but no.

“why didn’t you get it fixed yourself?” he asks, his usual gruff voice replaced by a particular softness for you.

you just shrug. “i don’t know. i never got around to it. winter came early.”

the both of you remember when you first got together. he told his family for a reason. he was so excited, saying he found the one. a few months later, no one was celebrating.

love slipped beyond his reaches the day he began doubting himself. he wasn’t good enough for you. becoming the #1 hero in his country only made him wonder more about his worth. he could barely give a reason towards the break up, instead spewing out that he needed to think things through instead.

“..how was your trip?” you break the silence, though you know the answer. his trip was great. the media wouldn’t shut up about it. about his parties and award shows, about the lives he saved and the talents he has. they particularly the people, more so the girls he was with. though you decided not to bring that part up.

he paused for a moment. he knew you would say something about it soon. he was being watched and photographed everywhere he went, which included a few girls who got some videos and pictures with him.

“it was exhausting, more than fun. you know all those girls only care about publicity and attention, none of it was real.” he sighs, taking a sip of his tea.

“i didn’t bring up girls.” you’re quick to remind him. though its nice how he’s so quick to assure any doubts you may have. “but… yeah. i figured as much.”

“you know nothing happened between me and anyone you saw, right?” he asks in a tone that makes it sound like it should be obvious- but its not. katsuki could have went home with someone else, done illicit drugs, drank and had unprotected sex, and it wouldn’t be any of your business.

“it… wouldn’t matter anymore if you did. we broke up before you left, remember?” you say.

theres nothing with katsuki’s memory. he thinks about that break up every damn night.

“um.. least you had kirishima with you.” you quip, just trying to lighten the mood. you get a genuine smile out of the blonde.

“yeah. shitty hair was annoying, as usual.” he chuckles fondly. only best friends can refer to each other like that.

shitty hair was also the guy that kept katsuki from doing something, or rather someone, he might regret. he knows his best friend and he knows where his feelings lie.

katsuki was midas. everything he touched turned to gold. and people adored him for it, revelling in the fame and fortune. but with that superpower comes consequences. not everything should b shiny and gold. sure, his midas touch on the chevy door looked beautiful, but you two could never actually drive it. your relationship shimmered and glistened, but it never went anywhere.

but for a moment, things were good. you’d laugh and smile with your group of friends- though after the breakup you believed you’d never say that word again. now, those friends have the nerve to deck the halls that katsuki once loved you in.

he never was ready, so you watched him go. neither of you just didn’t know the answer, even after begging him to stay on your knees.

you would have made such a lovely bride. what a shamed he’s fucked in the head. even though to him you were the real thing.

he still has your picture in his wallet. he wants to your hold hand dancing, and never leave you like he did ever again.

“…what happened to us, anyway?” he dares to ask, his whisper speaking volumes in the silence. he knows the answer. he knows why he did what he did. but you suppose he wants to know what you think.

“one moment you love me, and your promising to fix my heater… next thing i know, you’ve gotta think things through. and then you’re on a plane to los angeles.”

he flinches at that. kind of a dick move on his part, not explaining things and immediately fleeing the country afterwards. to be fair, it was a pr trip he had planned months before, but if that wasn’t the case he’d still book a spontaneous trip to alberta or somewhere, like the coward he is.

he feels the most guilt when you bring up the heater he said he’d fix. it wasn’t the only thing he promised you. he swore you’d always be loved, that you’d never be alone, and yet he couldn’t even give you a god damn warm apartment for the winter.

“i did love you.” he attempts to correct you, though you focus only on one word.

“did?” you ask, hesitantly.

he pauses again, realizing his slip up.

“…i do love you.”

you shake your head silently, eyes welling up with tears. one falls into your cup of tea. “don’t… don’t say that just to make me feel better, kats.”

but he’s not. he’s saying it because he means it. he’s saying it because he’s kept his mothers ring in his pocket, preparing for the moment he’ll make it your ring.

at this point, he can tell the cold is getting to you. your shaking slightly, your loose sweater respectfully doing nothing to shield you from the winter air. a broken heater neglected by a shitty ex-boyfriend is enough cold.

“you’re cold?” he asks. “no, i’m warm.” you answer sarcastically. its his fault for asking.

he debates on it for a moment. normally, he wouldn’t think twice before pulling you into his embrace. but now, he worries. he wonders if thats even what you want. his quirk keeps him warm enough, but you don’t have that. seeing your reaction to the bitter winter air pushes him to a decision.

“c’mere.”

maybe its the cold, the ache in your heart missing him, or some combination of both, but you don’t think twice before shuffling over to him on the couch as he wraps his arms around you. your head lays against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

god, he missed this. even the warmth of LA didn’t compare to holding you on a chilled night.

“you’re the worst.” you whisper, obviously still angry and heartbroken, yet still in his embrace. “i love you.”

those words feel like a confession. he takes it, both the proclamation of his faults and the admission that you still love him. both are true.

“i love you too, dumbass.” he says. “and i’m not just saying that.”

you perk your head up slightly, finally asking the million-dollar question: “..then why’d you break things off?”

he looks at you. he knows exactly why. but he’s not sure if he can break it to you yet. ultimately, he decides you deserve the truth.

with a sigh, he finally speaks. “i… i don’t know. i thought it would be better for you. i thought you’d be happier without me dragging you down, babe.”

you look into his red eyes and determine that he is, in fact, telling the truth- despite how fabricated it sounds. katsuki bakugou, the incredible #1 hero who was the best of the best, thought he wasn’t good enough?

yeah, thats exactly the case. because even through his heroic outside, katsuki wondered if you deserved more. or better.

he sees the confusion in your eyes and decided to explain his thoughts further. “i thought you’d be better off without me, with someone else. i thought you’d find someone better than me who didn’t have such a shitty personality, someone who you’d be better with.”

you shake your head, making sure he hears you. “i know you’ve been doubting yourself since you became #1… wondering if you’re good enough or not, but… i thought you’d at least know you’re good enough for me.”

its crazy to him how easy it was for his fears to die down if he had just talked to you in the first place. he’s learned his lesson.

so he nods, pressing a kiss and an “i’m sorry” to your forehead. you continue talking to him.

“you’re shitty, and you’re kind of an asshole.” you chuckle. “you’re also really sweet when it counts. you remember things about me. you fix things, i guess except for my heater… you’re good to me. you try. you try harder with me than with anything else in your life.”

he couldn’t help but smile a little at the truth in your words. even counting his time in UA, his relentless training to become a hero, katsuki tried the hardest to become better for you. “yeah. you make me wanna change.”

he presses his forehead to yours, just relishing in the newfound warmth. he’s happy, content.

“lets call it even.” you whisper, fingers intertwining with his. “i didn’t think i was good enough for you either.”

he almost scoffs at that. “you’re an idiot for thinkin’ that.”

you roll your eyes. “so are you.”

tags! 🫧

@dragonscribble @rayleeya @brisklofitea @saceaseeds

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉

summary - lunch turns into something much more spicier.

warning - smut, swearing, creampie, uncomfortableness, slight jealousy.

18+ only please, the gif and dividers I use aren’t mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You were bent over the desk, struggling to untangle some wires. Unaware of the eyes watching you and the presence behind you. You jump as a hand rests on your lower back, causing you to straighten up, your eyes landing on your new boss, Charles.

He smiles down at you, hand still resting against your back. “You alright? You seem to be having a bit of trouble there?”

You hum, nodding. “Mmhm… Yeah, thanks.”

“I think I’m the only woman in the office that isn’t attracted to Charles…” You stare at the camera before your eyes drift out the window, staring at a certain salesman. “He’s just not…” Your voice dies down, not finishing your sentence. You look back at the camera, blinking rapidly as you come out of your daze. “Anyway, I get the impression he doesn’t exactly like that?”

“Did you need any help? I can happily have a look at it for you. Don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“I’m… uh good… Thank you though.” You give an awkward smile, your body twisting slightly to try and get his hand to drop but it doesn’t budge.

From across the room, Jim glares slightly. His grip tightens on the pen, he didn’t even feel this amount of jealousy and anger when Pam was with Roy. He stands, making his way over when he notices how uncomfortable you seem.

“L/n? No, no…” Jim shakes his head at the camera, “I don’t… We’re not… She’s just… We’re friends.” He stumbles over his words, eyes drifting out the window, immediately finding you. “I don’t even know where you would get the idea that I like her…”

“Hey.” You let out a breath of relief as Jim appears next to you, slightly pushing Charles away. “I came to help you with the thing you needed help with.”

You smile, subconsciously moving closer to him. “Yeah, that’s right!” You turn to Charles and put on an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry! I completely forgot I asked Jim to help me before.”

He looks between you and Jim, a scowl appearing on his face. “Oh. That’s alright, I guess.” He goes to turn before adding. “But if you need anything, you can always come find me.” He finally leaves.

You shudder, looking up at Jim. “Thank you… He makes me so uncomfortable. I don’t know why he doesn’t take the hint that I’m not into him.” You scrunch your nose, shaking your head a bit.

“All good. Now, what have you been trying to do this whole time?” Jim gestures towards your desk and you nod, moving over, feeling him press against your back. You swallow hard, hesitant to move because one small move would cause you to brush up or press up against Jim… Especially the lower half of him.

“Uh…” You swallow, feeling him press closer, leaning over to look as well. “Some of my wires got tangled and caught onto something” Your pulse quickened, and your heart pumped hard and fast.

“Oh, that’s an easy fix* Jim’s hand skims your arm as he leans over, fixing your problem. “See.” Only to cause another problem between your legs.

You facepalm, "Oh, now I feel stupid." You turn, your breath catching in your throat as you choke out. "T-thank you though."

Jim smiles down at you, "How about you thank me by agreeing to go to lunch?"

You didn’t know how it happened… One minute you were getting into Jim’s car, ready to go to lunch and the next he was pulling into a secluded area and your hands ended up pressing against the cars roof.

“Fuck… Jim!” You moaned, his large hands gripping your hips as he bounces you up and down on his cock. Your hands move, gripping and tugging his hair as he pounds up into you.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” He groans, his lips latching onto your neck, covering it with kisses and marks. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

You nod, head falling back as a moan falls from your lips. “I am… I’m a tease!” You struggle to get the words out as he hits deep inside you, pounding harder and harder into you causing you to clench around him. “Feels so good!”

Jim cups the back of your head, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. Teeth and tongues clashing as moans fill your mouths and his hips move faster. “You gonna cum for me, Sweetheart?”

You moan into the kiss, pressing against him more, clinging to him as you rapidly nod, your hips rolling and jerking. “P—please. I wanna cum…” Your eyes roll back as Jim jerks up, hitting the soft spot deep inside causing you to clench and pulse around him, cumming fast and hard. “O—oh! Jim!”

“Fuck…” Jim grips your hips tight as his cock twitches, thick cum painting the inside of your cunt.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[elliesmainhoe]

Ellie Williams Headcanons : RichOlderWoman!Ellie

I got this as an ask but Tumblr ate it 😱 so here you go anon.

Okay Okay. So, first things first, from day one Ellie was always adamant when saying that you were NEVER her sugar baby.

you were just her controversially young girlfriend who she liked to spoil and have perched on her lap during boring business meetings.

speaking of SPOLING-

she regularly takes you on trips to expensive high end malls which exclusively house designer brands and WILL buy you anything you look at as long as you hold her hand while you both walk around.

but CEO Ellie Williams is a busy woman, and doesn't always have a long enough interval between meetings to keep you company.

in those cases she simply kisses you cheek and forehead before handing you a small black card and saying "give me a show of everything you buy when I get home, hm?"

arthritis may be fast approaching but those hips do not slow

(jk she's only in her late thirties, and you know for a fact the extent of working out she does keeps her joints in check)

in fact she gives the best strap game. the experience and the variety of expensive toys and the regular gym routine = 🤩

always her arm candy

every once in a while after lovingly gazing at you for a little too long, looking at your soft supple thighs, pink lipstick coated lips and shiny hair cascading beautifully from your head. she feels insecure?

it's an odd feeling.

an unfamiliar feeling.

but Ellie is mature, it's one thing you admire about herand she knows that a problem won't be resolved unless she talks to you.

so she does, and as soon as the voices of concern fall from her lips, you soon put those thoughts to rest <333

she does the same to you!!

it was a normal day, you woke up to a cup of coffee on your bed side, a small pastry from your favorite bakery, a credit card and a note which read:

"Good Morning my love, I completely forgot about the early morning meeting I had today. I got you some pastries as an apology, I'm sorry we can't go shopping today like we planned, but here's my card and the driver can take you to the mall.

Love you pretty girl, Ellie x"

•••••••

it was a while later when Joel, your driver, pulled up outside the office building, you thanked him swiftly and walked quickly towards the automatic doors of 'Williams Enterprises Headquarters', expensive jimmy choo heels clicking against the concrete entrance. The security guard, Bob, nodded his head in greeting and you returned the gesture with a smile.

The receptionist was... different. the usual blonde haired girl was replaced by a middle aged woman with greying hair, deep set wrinkles imbedded in pale skin. "Hi what can I do for you today?" a high squeaky voice came from her mouth. a tone of voice you knew from years of retail work and customer service, you winced instinctively.

"Hi, I'm here to see Miss Williams." you reply, fingers tightening on the strap of the mulberry purse Ellie had gifted you for your 2nd anniversary a few months passed.

"hmmm. I don't see you on the schedule, do you have an appointment?" she smiled, the fakeness clear and tone of voice irritated.

"oh, uhm no. I'm her girlfriend" silence. the fake smile plastered on the woman's face falling, as she looked over behind her to a colleague who nodded in confirmation of the story you had given her.

"sorry if this is intrusive kid, but aren't you a little young." she spoke, and chewed a piece of him you hadn't noticed before rather obnoxiously. "I mean I can tell you're..." her eyes scanned your frame "reaping the benefits."

"I mean, god I can't blame you" she continued " if I had the looks and youth I once did I would happily suck off anyone for chanel. Now tell me doll, how much surgery has Mrs. Williams paid for you to have done, surely those tits aren't real?"

you quickly brushed past her, ignoring the intrusive questions and stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor Ellie's office resided on.

the site of you immediately brought a smile onto your girlfriend's previously pinched and visibly frustrated face. "Hi pretty girl,", she pushed out her chair from behind her desk, patting her thigh for you to sit on. "Hi Els." the frown you couldn't quite erase from your features furrowed your brows in a way Ellie couldn't ignore.

"What happened baby? you upset with me for leaving earlier?" she asked softly, adjusting you on her lap and kissing your temple. "nah it's not that- I just-" your hands instinctively began playing with Ellie's fingers, twisting the ring on her index finger slowly. "the new lady, in reception. she said something-" you sighed. "and I just can't shake it."

"do you think that, I'm a burden? that the fact I'm so young means I'm leeching off you? I don't want to do that Ells. I like dresses and bags and makeup and you give that to me because you can, but I just- if you ever don't want to buy me stuff, please tell me Ells, I don't want to take and take and take when you don't want me to."

a soft chuckle shook Ellie's chest "pretty girl, look at me. The reason I work is to spoil you, the reason I go to these bullshit meetings with these stuckup assholes is to give you and me a life where money is no object. I love you sweet girl" she kissed your plush lips, the tension seemingly draining out of your body at the touch.

"now, which receptionist said that?"

•••••••••

A/N: cute little hc and drabble to get me back into the swing of things.

[avatar-anna]

Where It All Began

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

i had this finished hours ago and then tumblr didn't save it and i wanted to throw my phone out a window.

also, i don't write smut so if it's bad say nothing 🫣

When you saw Harry on the other side of your open door, you immediately slammed it shut in his face.

"Oh, come on, princess, don't be like that!"

"Go away!" you groaned loud enough that he could hear through the door.

Harry did not go away. His head thudded against the door instead. You could almost picture his forehead pressed against it, small pout on his lips for not getting his way.

"Are you really going to ignore me? After everything we've been through together?"

No. "Yes. And stop calling me princess!" you said, a little louder this time.

"I know you love it," Harry said. "You had quite a different reaction when I said it last week. A week, princess. How long are you gonna keep me in agony here?"

The night in question was one you'd been trying and failing to forget. It was a slip, a lapse in judgement, something you didn't think about carefully before doing it, and now look at where you were. Harry had been trying to talk to you, both discreetly and not so discreetly ever since, but you'd given him the cold shoulder, for no other reason than if you stayed too long in his presence you might've slipped again.

Hooking up with your mortal enemy was a horrible idea, one you were now paying dearly for.

With a scoff, you said through the door, "Don't act like half the school isn't lined up to sleep with you. Go be with one of them."

It was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from Harry. You didn't judge him for his alleged sexual prowess, but you wanted someone committed to you and only you. If you wanted someone, that is. Between your studies and figure skating, there was no room for relationships of any kind, especially not with arrogant hockey players. Especially not Harry Styles.

"You really want that to be it?" Harry asked, ignoring your comment. "I mean it was great, but a coat closet isn't conducive to showing off my best work. Come on, princess, let me show you some of my best work."

"Maybe I don't want to because it wasn't satisfying enough." Liar. You knew it, and he knew it too.

"The stains on my shirt from you squirting everywhere say otherwise," he said, and your cheeks heated immediately. You could hear the smirk in his voice, the satisfaction in it as he remembered how you came on his fingers. It made your core pulse, but you mentally scolded yourself.

"Nothing to say to that, huh? I thought so," he said. "I can't help it now that I'm hooked, Y/n. I need that everywhere. Can you imagine riding me when you do that? Or sitting on my face? God please sit on my—"

You finally opened the door and yanked Harry inside before slamming it shut again. "Keep your voice down!" you hissed.

If you weren't so annoyed with him, you would've noticed Harry was looking at you with hearts in his eyes, but it would be a long time before you realized he looked at you like that all the time.

But unfortunately, all you saw was his smirk, his dimples set deep in his cheeks as he looked you up and down. "It wouldn't have been a problem if you had just let me in in the first place. It's not my fault you need a physical barrier to keep yourself from throwing yourself at me."

"I—I did not throw myself at you!"

"You did, but that's okay. I liked it."

"You're infuriating!"

"And you're stubborn! And blind!"

"Blind? To what?"

With each word exchanged, Harry backed you up until your back hit your bed. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide. It was either push him away or give in to him.

"Look at me, princess. I want to see those pretty eyes when I say this to you," he said, voice now hushed and gravelly now that he was in your room. You looked up, unable to ignore the command in his tone or the way it turned your insides molten.

"I want you, Y/n. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night. Since—"

"Since?" you asked, curious why he stopped all of a sudden.

"Nevermind. The point is that I want you, and I know you want me. You can't tell me someone else has made you feel as good as I have."

No one had, and it was infuriating. You couldn't deny it, not when he was staring at you so intensely. So you fell back on your tried and true excuse. "I don't have time—"

"You think I have all sorts of free time?" Harry asked. "Both of our schedules are crazy, Y/n. All I'm asking is for you to give it a try."

"Give what a try? Sleeping together?"

Something shifted in Harry's expression, but it was back to his heated gaze before you could process it. "Yeah, princess. You need someone to take your frustrations out on? Take them out on me. Need a break from studying? I'm there. Just need someone to fuck you so hard that you forget how to think properly? Well, you saw what I did with just my fingers."

"So...just hooking up," you confirmed. "No dating."

"No dating," Harry agreed, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, the light touch sending shivers down your spine. "Just sex."

"And no one else can know," you managed to get out before finally giving in. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to kiss him, to tear his clothes off and taste him everywhere. But you had to say this first. "I don't want our friends weighing in or giving us a hard time."

"Might have to be really quiet sometimes, then. Think you can handle it?"

He was so self-assured. It was something that annoyed you to no end, but now made your pulse quicken. You were wet from the gravel in his voice alone, feeling it skitter along your skin and turning your core molten. You wanted him. It was time to stop denying yourself the pleasure he was promising you. But first, you needed to level the playing field a bit.

You kissed him, taking Harry by surprise but he was quick to recover. Shoving your hands in his hair, you threw off the baseball cap that always sat backwards on his head. He groaned against your mouth as you pulled at the roots, the sound going straight between your legs.

Hands were everywhere, and so was Harry's tongue. His mouth was on your neck, your jaw, your collar bones and chest. It was enough of a distraction to slip your hands to his waist, to flick off the button of his jeans and slide them down until they looked on the floor.

Harry stepped out of them with ease, following your lead as you turned until his back was against your bed. His eyes were heavy with lust, widening slightly as you got down on your knees and pulled his briefs down. You caught him in your hand, unable to stop yourself from licking your lips at the sight of him.

His cock was long and hard, the tip and angry shade of red, as if just blowing on it might send him over the edge. You did just that, curious to know the answer. Harry didn't come, but he made a strangled sound that made you smile. Looking up at him innocently, you finally asked him, "Can you?"

"Can I—Fuck. "Can I what, princess?"

You didn't answer right away, satisfied with making him wait. Satisfied with the moans and stuttered breaths and the harsh grip in your hair as you played with him.

Harry's cock was heavy in your mouth, and it took everything in you not to show how much you enjoyed sucking him off. Giving pleasure was something that got you off, but with him it was all dialed up. You could feel your underwear dampen as you took him further down your throat, your eyes watering as you bobbed back and forth.

Before he could hit the back of your throat, Harry's grip on your hair tightened and pulled you off him. Almost embarrassingly, you tried to reach him but he held you back.

"Can I what?" Harry repeated. His cheeks were flushed, and the look in his eyes promised a harsh throat fucking if you complied, so you did.

"Can you handle keeping your voice down too? From what I understand it doesn't seem like you can."

Harry chuckled like he was impressed, which pleased you in a way that it shouldn't have. You wanted to impress him all of a sudden. You wanted to please him.

"I guess we'll see. Get up on the bed."

You hesitated. As much as you wanted him inside you, you wanted him in your mouth more. You weren't finished yet. Or rather, Harry wasn't finished yet.

"What is it?" he asked.

You took him into your mouth again, losing yourself in the weight and feel of him on your tongue despite yourself. It was infuriating how much Harry turned you on despite how annoying he was. Mixed with your penchant for getting off and getting others off, you were a goner.

Harry's moans and the grip on your hair only fueled you. Your panties were nothing but a wet scrap of fabric at this point but you didn't care.

Before you could take him down the back of your throat, Harry pulled you off him again. In the fog of lust, you leaned for him involuntarily but he held you back.

Harry chuckled, his usual smirk not so irritating as it normally was. "A slut and a brat. I didn't know I was getting two for the price of one, but we'll work on that don't worry."

A flash of irritation came to the surface. "You're so—"

"Ah ah ah, let's get back to what you do best, yeah? If you wanna suck cock all day, by all means," Harry said, his voice so condescending you almost didn't want to, but your lust eventually won out.

You couldn't help it. You really did want him in your mouth.

"Fuck, there we go. I knew you couldn't resist for long."

"Shut up, you're ruining this for me."

"Sorry, princess, I'll let you focus. You can tap my thigh if it's too much. I have a feeling you might get carried away. Just had no idea you were such a slut for my cock."

You pinched Harry's leg instead as you worked your mouth further down his length. Hissing, he gripped your hair tight, a small warning to behave.

"What would all our friends say if they knew, huh? Everyone thinks you hate me, but in reality you can't go a whole week without my cock in you. That must really piss you off."

You breathed harshly through your nose, but Harry didn't miss that subtle squeeze of your thighs, proving him right. You could pretend all you wanted, he didn't seem to care one way or another. It probably satisfied him to no end to know that he got under your skin, that the focused, levelheaded good girl you appeared to be was a mere facade.

"You can't stand it, can you? And yet you're probably so fuckin' wet when I talk like this, huh? Dirty girl. My dirty girl. You look like a fucked out mess and you don't even care. I bet you even like it."

Harry pulled you off his cock, a small whimper leaving your swollen, drool covered lips. You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, too far gone to act like this wasn't exactly where you wanted to be.

"You look so cute," Harry cooed, gently wiping spit or precum from the corner of Y/n's mouth. That seemed to snap her out of her trance, and she swatted his hand away, reaching out for his length to finish him off. "Ah ah ah. I think I need to hear it first."

"Hear what?"

"How much you want this. How much you want me."

Y/n narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she sat back on her heels, not saying a single word.

"You can sit there and bruise your knees, princess," Harry said, running a hand over his dick, smiling slightly as he watched her eyes track the movement. "Maybe I'll just come on your face and leave without getting you off. But something tells me you might like that."

Your pussy throbbed at the thought, the little traitor, though you were starting to feel like giving in was easier than resisting, no matter how much Harry might tease you for it after.

"I get off on pleasuring other people, sue me," you snapped, pointedly looking away from Harry and his ministrations.

"True," Harry agreed. "But that's not the whole truth. Come on, Y/n. You know I'll reward you for being a good girl, but if you take too long..."

Swiping his thumb over his tip, Harry leaned his head back and moaned. The veins in his neck bulged as the muscles in his stomach contracted. His whole body was flushed pink. He really was gonna come.

"Fine! Fine," you huffed barely looking in his eyes. "I—I want you."

"You can do better than that," Harry teased, still pumping his shaft lightly. "Touch yourself while you convince me. I want to see what that little pussy will tell me if you can't say it with your words."

Whimpering, you dipped your fingers beneath your panties, gasping as they grazed your clit as they made their way down to your slit. You were soaked, which wasn't news to you, but the sound of two fingers pumping in and out of you with ease told Harry enough.

"Please," you whimpered. "I want to finish you off. I want you, Harry. Please let me suck your cock."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Harry said, grinning almost evilly. "Keep playing with yourself too. But don't fucking come. I told you where I wanted you to squirt and it won't be on the fucking floor."

You moaned as you finally took him into your mouth again. He was close, his hips bucking into you frenetically. You focused on the tip, swirling your tongue over it while your hands took care of the rest. It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You lost yourself in the feel of him on your tongue, in the twinge of pain in your scalp as he kept a tight grip on your hair. You added a third finger to your throbbing pussy, moaning around Harry until it became too much.

"Come. Please come, Harry," you begged. "I'm so close and I—I can feel it."

Then, pulling your hand from your heat, you sucked at his tip, using the slickness of your hand to pump the rest of him before sliding back down his length. You could taste yourself on him, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. Part of you wanted to know what Harry would do if you did come, if you disobeyed, but you figured there would be an opportunity for that. Right now, you wanted him, and you wanted to ride his face as reward for your hard work.

"God you're a fucking dream," Harry moaned, thrusting into your mouth after your little display.

He spilled into your mouth then, his cock twitching as you eagerly swallowed spurt after spurt of his cum. Harry cursed and moaned through it all, gently running a hand through your hair. You didn't want to let up, still in a trance as you tried to milk every possible bit out of him as possible.

"A slut in a good girl's clothes. Who knew," he said, chest rising rapidly as if he just did sprints on the ice.

Raising your brow, you licked your hand clean, keeping eye contact with him until he eventually brought you to your feet. Your legs were wobbly, but Harry steadied you. He kissed you hard, tongue thrusting into your mouth as if he was chasing the taste of your heat on your tongue. "If you wanted to get rid of me, you failed miserably, princess," he murmured onto your lips before hoisting you on your bed. You practically vibrated with anticipation, your pussy aching for his attention. It wouldn't take much to come since you were so close, but you figured your legs would be locked around Harry's head until he was ready to fuck you properly.

When Harry was situated on your bed the way he liked, he motioned for you to come closer. You crawled up the bed, stopping right before his face. His expression was eager as he helped you out of your shirt, his hands kneading your breasts appreciatively and tweaking your nipples until you moaned, moving your hips involuntarily.

"Don't or I swear to God I'm gonna come," you hissed, trying to hold your impending orgasm at bay.

"Hm. Another time then," Harry said. "Don't be gentle, okay? Make a mess out of me. Now move those panties to the side so I can get a good look at you.

It was the last intelligible thing either of you said for a while, you too lost in your own pleasure and Harry smothered in you, his hands guiding your hips and gripping your ass appreciatively. He moaned almost as much as you did, his tongue working over your slit, up to your clit, and down again over and over. You can rather quickly because of everything that happened before, your legs trembling as you tried to move off him. But he held you down, seating you on him once more.

"No."

"Harry, I—"

"No. You're not done coming yet. I need at least two more," he said before sticking two fingers into your hole and latching his lips around your clit.

He pumped at a bruising pace, sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue, driving tears to your eyes from the overstimulation. It was almost painful, but your hips bucked in time with Harry's fingers. And even though you'd never done it before in such quick succession, you could feel a second orgasm barreling through you. The pressure built and built, and all it took was the graze of Harry's teeth against your clit to send you over.

The pleasure was so intense you were pretty sure you blacked out. Harry's fingers didn't let up, curling into you and making you climax for the third time before you even finished your second.

You don't know if you screamed, you don't know if you stopped making sound altogether. All you knew was pure euphoria and the slide of Harry's tongue on your trembling thighs as he lapped up the messy aftermath of your two consecutive releases. His nose graze your clit, and you twitched, twitched, moaning or sobbing or begging, you couldn't tell.

"Okay, princess, time to lay down," Harry said.

You felt lighter than air as he laid you flat on your back. You were pretty sure you had pillows, but you couldn't recall how to ask. All you knew was the man beside you who knew how to make you c so hard you saw stars.

The same man kissed you before sliding off the bed and you reached for him, something you would never normally do. "Where—You—You're not staying with me?"

Harry's features softened as he kissed you again, this time on your cheek. "Gotta get you cleaned up. Gotta clean myself up for that matter. I'll be quick, I promise."

"Okay."

Harry was quick, just as he promised. A warm towel between your legs, your bed dipping, Harry's body wrapped around yours, the smell of his body wash comforting as it engulfed you—it all made your eyes heavy.

"Where are my pillows?" you finally asked, realizing you were using his arm as one instead.

"They, uh, took the brunt of your special talent, along with my face," he said, only slightly teasing.

"Sorry," you said, cheeks pinking.

"You'll never hear me complaining about that," Harry said, kissing your neck. "Might have to have that regularly. You've made an addict out of me."

You had enough energy to pinch the arm wrapped around you. "Pig."

"Go to sleep, princess. You're not you when you're high on orgasms, and I miss our verbal spats."

You didn't need to be told twice and fell asleep almost instantly. When you woke up, Harry and any and all traces of him were gone. Your pillows were back on the bed without their pillowcases. One glance at your hamper told you where Harry put them before he left.

Part of you didn't like that he left while you were asleep, but as the fog of sleep wore off and you fitted a shirt over your head, you told yourself it was for the best. Especially when a couple minutes later your roommate walked in.

"Hey, Y/n," she said as she set her backpack by her desk.

"Hey," you replied, stretching your arms high above your head before covering a yawn.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so tired in the middle of the day. Tough workout at the rink this morning?"

You couldn't help but grin, your afternoon with Harry replaying in your head. Despite the earth-shattering orgasms only a couple hours ago, you felt your core pulse at the memory.

"Yeah. Something like that."

[glitterjay]

Enhypen reaction when you take off your engagement ring after an argument 💔💍 (heavy angst to happy ending pls)

⭒ angst (but its happy at the end????), arguments

⭒ c's note: yall are making me cry and for WHAT. i also did this up to jungwon only because i just can't see ni-ki being engaged just yet. reblogs are appreciated!

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks

heseung had a really bad day at work. he was exhausted, and to be completely honest, he did not want to see anyone at all. so when he got home and ignored you, you confronted him about it. he had given you attitude when he first walked into the house, and you were not about to deal with that. the argument escalated quickly, with you taking your engagement ring and giving it to him. this made him realize quickly what he had done, realizing he shouldn't have taken his frustration out on you. he'd approach you gently, apologizing first about his actions and asking how he could repay it. he knew you wouldn't talk to him normally right away, and he was okay with it. he admitted he was the one in the wrong, but he'd beg you to put the ring back on

you and jay had been clashing a lot when it came to opinions, which often led to arguments between the both of you. tired of this behavior, you took the engagement ring he had given you a month prior and placed it in the bowl where you kept your car keys. jay noticed this and sighed, taking the ring in his hands and approaching you calmly. what had caused all of this were the fights you had often, so causing another one would be the worst thing he could do. he'd ask you to sit and talk it out with him, brainstorming ideas and ways you could avoid all these problems without ruining your relationship. he'd then give you the ring and tell you to wear it when you feel ready.

jake had snapped at you after you tried to explain why you hadn't told him you were going out beforehand. there was no need for him to yell at you like that, but he did anyway. with tears in your eyes, you took off the engagement ring you had on and dropped it on the floor. it was only then that jake realized he was being far too harsh and immediately apologized for his actions. he wouldn't care about the ring, actually. his priority then was to resolve what his actions had caused and to let you know how much he truly loves you.

you had taken your engagement ring out after a heated argument with sunghoon simply because every time you saw it, it reminded of you of the way he had snapped before your eyes. he knew he was wrong for exploding that way, and he was aware that both of you needed some time to relax and cool off before talking again. it made him sad when he saw said ring in the night table next to the bed. specifically the one on his side, but if he was being honest, he fucked up. it took him by surprise when you approached him first to talk things out, giving him your own ring so he could put it back in your finger.

it was rare when you and sunoo faught, but this time it had gone over the edge, making you take off the engagement ring he had given you, and tossing it out in some bowl that was laying around the house. it hurt his feeling, and it hurt you too knowing you broke the promise of never taking it off again, but there was nothing else you could've thought of in that moment. sunoo was quick to apologize first, not being able to take it anymore, and ask you to at least put the ring back on.

arguments were jungwon's least favorite part of a relationship, and it sure became his enemy when you took your engagement ring off and gave it to him after fighting over something quite stupid. he was incredibly upset about it, but took matters into his own hands to make a surprise for you as a way to apologize, and propose to you in the hopes you'll say yes and put on the ring again. (you did)

© glitterjay | tumblr

[christopherisfoive]

Cold Burn (Chapter 4)

!idol reader x Seungmin; enemies to lovers

Word Count: (It literally won't let me move it from here lol)

Note: I wrote this super late last night and tried to edit my best but sorry if there are any mistakes, going back to drafting on docs because tumblr hates me. It has been a long week. Thank you for reading, I appreciate it <3 (it will eventually make sense i promise)

Masterlist

The city was alive with the midday rush, bustling streets and flashing signs lining every corner. It should’ve felt freeing after being cooped up in venues and hotels for the past few weeks, but even with the fresh air, I still felt off.

I adjusted my mask, letting my hood cast a shadow over my face as I followed behind my group.

It was supposed to be a day off.

But my mind was still playing back every mistake I’d made on stage during the tour.

I should have been enjoying this break. But instead, I was still holding onto every mistake, every moment that made me feel like I was losing control.

And then, like perfectly timed chaos, I heard it—the sound of cameras clicking.

Whispers turned into excited calls.

I instinctively pulled my hood lower, keeping my face neutral as the others started interacting.

A group of fans and paparazzi had spotted us, and before I could even process it, they were already approaching fast.

"Oh my god, it’s Stray Kids and Stellar!" one girl squealed, phone already out.

The energy shifted immediately.

Han, Hyunjin, and Leah engaged easily, smiling and waving. Bang Chan answered a few quick questions, even as security started stepping in to maintain a barrier.

Then came the actual questions.

"Y/N! Can you talk about your solo stage? People said it didn’t seem like your usual energy!"

"Is it true you don’t like performing live?"

"Are you okay? You seemed out of sync in the last show!"

I ignored them.

I always ignored them.

Instead, I kept walking, keeping my gaze forward, shoulders tense under my hoodie.

That was all it took to shift the crowd’s mood.

People started stepping in front of me, blocking my path, shoving phones and cameras in my direction.

The excitement turned to pushy persistence.

"Why won’t you say anything?"

"Y/N, just one word for your fans?"

I clenched my jaw and sidestepped them, but it was too late.

Someone moved in too close.

Before I could react, a fan—a girl, maybe late teens, wearing a hoodie with our group’s name on it—stepped right into my space.

"Why do you always ignore us?" Her voice was sharp, demanding.

I took a step back, my pulse spiking. Too close. Way too close.

She didn't stop. "Other idols talk to their fans. What’s your problem?"

Before I could respond—before I could even process how uncomfortable I felt—she lifted her phone closer to my face, snapping a photo at point-blank range.

I barely kept my composure, my breath hitching as I turned away sharply.

Security finally stepped in, blocking her as one of our managers started ushering us forward.

But the damage was already done.

I could already hear the murmurs.

"What’s wrong with her?"

"So rude."

"Seungmin would never act like that."

And of course—there he was.

I glanced up just in time to see him smiling effortlessly, answering questions, personally greeting every fan that came up to him.

Easy. Natural. Everything I wasn’t.

I could already feel his judgment from across the crowd.

To him, I probably looked like the worst kind of idol.

What he didn’t know was that I had my reasons.

And I wasn’t about to explain myself to him.

The second we finally got away from the crowd, I could feel the weight of the encounter still pressing on my chest. My steps were quick, my head down, but I could still hear the lingering whispers, the judgment heavy in the air.

I wasn’t sure if it was my own overthinking or if they were actually talking about me, but it didn’t matter.

The damage was already done.

As we turned the corner onto a quieter street, I felt someone fall into step beside me.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"You could at least pretend to care."

I exhaled sharply, barely sparing Seungmin a glance before looking ahead again. "Not in the mood, Seungmin."

"Oh, I know," he said, voice casual but laced with something sharp. "You’re never in the mood, right?"

I clenched my jaw. "Drop it."

But of course, he didn’t.

"Seriously, what’s your deal?" He scoffed. "You act like it’s such a burden to interact with people who support you. The rest of us can handle it just fine. Why is it so hard for you?"

That did it.

I stopped walking, turning to him with narrowed eyes. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. "Don’t I?"

I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. "Not everything is as easy as you make it seem, Seungmin."

"No," he agreed, "but being decent to the people who made your career possible isn’t that hard."

The words hit me harder than I expected.

I had spent years learning how to brush off the criticism, how to let things roll off my back.

But for some reason, hearing it from him—someone who already thought the worst of me—made my blood boil.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "You don’t get to judge me."

"Then give me a reason not to."

The challenge was clear in his expression, in the way he refused to look away first.

I had so much I wanted to say.

But I knew it wouldn’t matter.

Not yet.

So instead, I just exhaled sharply and turned away, continuing forward.

"That’s what I thought," Seungmin muttered behind me, before falling back into step with the others.

I didn’t look back.

But the anger sat heavy in my chest, burning quietly.

-

The hotel lobby was quiet, save for the occasional footsteps of staff moving around and the faint sound of music playing from the lounge area. Most of the others had already gone up to their rooms or found their own ways to unwind after the long day.

I had planned to do the same.

Instead, I found myself sitting in the corner of the lobby, scrolling through my phone, letting the harsh glow of the screen burn into my eyes.

I knew I should’ve put it away.

I knew I shouldn’t have been reading any of this.

But my fingers kept moving, my screen lighting up with headlines, forum posts, and brutal opinions dissecting everything about me.

"Y/N is proof that visuals matter more than talent in the industry."

"Best 4th Gen Dancer my ass."

"She’s not even the best in her group—why does she get so much attention?"

"I heard she got her spot because of connections, not skill. Makes sense why she’s so stiff on stage."

"You really think she made it this far just by ‘working hard’? LMAO, be serious."

My stomach twisted, and I could feel my pulse in my fingertips.

The accusations weren’t new—I had heard whispers like this for years. But somehow, seeing it laid out so blatantly, with thousands of likes and shares, made it feel heavier.

Worse.

Like no matter what I did, no matter how much effort I put in, there were still people who would never respect me.

I barely noticed when someone sat down in the chair across from me, but I did feel the weight of their stare.

"You still look at that stuff?"

I flinched slightly, my thumb freezing mid-scroll.

I glanced up to see Jeongin, leaning back in the chair across from me, arms crossed.

I quickly locked my phone, shoving it onto the table. "It’s nothing."

"Didn’t look like nothing."

His voice wasn’t accusing, just matter-of-fact.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. "Just people talking. Same as always."

Jeongin didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, watching me like he was waiting for me to be honest.

After a beat, he exhaled, shaking his head. "You know none of that’s real, right?"

I let out a small, dry laugh. "Yeah, sure."

Jeongin frowned, his usual playfulness gone. "Y/N."

I forced myself to meet his eyes, but my chest felt tight.

I didn’t want to talk about this. Not now.

So I shrugged. "It’s fine. Doesn’t matter."

Jeongin studied me for a second longer before pushing off the chair, leaning forward to grab my phone.

Without asking, he flipped it face-down on the table.

"Then stop looking."

His tone was soft but firm. A simple statement, not a suggestion.

I swallowed, my fingers twitching slightly.

Jeongin sighed, his expression less teasing than usual, more serious. "Don’t let them win, Y/N."

And with that, he stood up, walking off toward the elevators.

I sat there for a moment, staring at my phone, my reflection faint in the dark screen.

I should’ve let it go.

But the words were still burned into my mind.

And I wasn’t sure if I knew how.

-

The burn in my throat started a few nights ago. Subtle at first, just a scratch that I figured would go away with enough water and rest.

Except, there was no rest.

Not when we were on back-to-back schedules, traveling city to city, rehearsing between shows, barely enough time to breathe, let alone recover.

I pushed through like always.

Now, standing in the middle of the rehearsal room, sweat clinging to my skin, I felt off.

The usual ache from training felt heavier today, my limbs sluggish, my breath coming shorter than it should have.

I rolled my shoulders back, ignoring the way my vision blurred for half a second.

I was fine.

Across the room, Jeongin watched me.

I caught the way his brows furrowed slightly, the way his gaze lingered as I moved through the choreography.

I knew that look.

I ignored it.

"Let’s go again," Chan called out, already stepping forward to reset the formation.

I exhaled sharply, steadying my stance, locking my body into position as the music cued up again.

But the moment I took my first step, I felt it.

The slight dip in my balance, the way my head felt lighter than it should have.

I corrected it immediately, moving into the next beat as if nothing had happened.

But Jeongin saw.

And so did Seungmin.

I felt his gaze before I even turned his way, a glance quick enough to catch the way his expression flickered—something almost unreadable flashing across his face.

For once, he didn’t say anything.

I wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the room or my own body turning against me, but every time we restarted the routine, my chest felt tighter.

I took a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs, willing my body to cooperate.

I couldn’t stop now.

Not when I had spent the last few weeks feeling like I was slipping. Not when people were already questioning whether I deserved to be here.

I needed them to see me succeed.

So I kept going.

Even when my legs felt heavier than they should have.

Even when my head felt like it was filled with static.

Even when I knew—knew—I was moving on sheer willpower alone.

I felt the weight of Jeongin’s stare first.

He wasn’t even being subtle about it anymore—I could see him watching between reps, his usual easy-going expression replaced with something more cautious.

But he didn’t say anything.

Neither did Seungmin.

I caught his gaze in the mirror, just for a second.

He was standing off to the side, arms crossed, eyes narrowed just slightly.

For once, there was no smirk. No sharp remarks.

Just quiet observation.

I ignored them both.

I had to.

The music started again, the pounding bass vibrating through my body, rattling in my chest.

I moved on instinct, letting my muscle memory carry me through—each step, each transition, each sharp hit of the beat.

But something was off.

I felt it before I saw it.

The moment my foot landed wrong, I knew. The angle was off, the weight uneven. My body moved a fraction of a second behind my mind, and suddenly—

I was out of sync.

Just for half a beat.

But in this world, half a beat was everything.

I immediately corrected, snapping into place, but the mistake had already happened. I could feel the eyes on me.

Someone spoke. "Y/N, what was that?"

I blinked, chest rising and falling faster than it should’ve been.

My mind scrambled for a response, but the words weren’t there.

I wasn’t fully there.

"I—" My voice sounded strange, distant, like it belonged to someone else.

Across from me, Ari’s gaze sharpened.

She saw it.

But she didn’t get the chance to say anything.

I sucked in a breath, forcing my posture straight, willing my body to hold itself together.

"Let’s go again," I said quickly, pretending nothing happened.

I needed to shake this off.

I needed them to see me succeed.

Even if my body had other plans.

The music thundered through the speakers, vibrating through the stage beneath my feet.

I kept moving. Kept pushing.

Every step felt heavier, like my limbs were fighting against me. My skin was damp with sweat, but I felt cold.

It was getting harder to breathe.

The stage lights burned hot, casting everything in a hazy glow. The air felt thick, each inhale tighter than the last.

And then—

The misstep.

The dizziness.

The moment my body finally gave out beneath me.

The floor rushed toward me, the sharp gasp of someone nearby cutting through the ringing in my ears.

The music stopped.

Someone called my name.

I barely heard them before everything faded to black.

The moment my body hit the stage, everything exploded into chaos.

The music cut off instantly.

Footsteps—rushed, frantic—pounded against the stage floor as voices overlapped in panic.

"Y/N!"

"Someone get the staff!"

I felt hands on me—someone kneeling beside me, another hand brushing my hair back, the fabric of my sweat-soaked clothes sticking to my skin.

I was aware of it all, but everything felt distant. Like I was watching it happen from the outside, my limbs too heavy to respond.

"Is she breathing okay?" Ari’s voice was the sharpest, her usual calm cracked with pure fear.

"She’s burning up," Leah’s voice trembled. "We need to get her offstage—now."

Someone lifted me slightly, supporting my upper body. The movement made my stomach turn, a weak groan escaping before I could stop it.

"She’s conscious," Jeongin said quickly, relief barely masking the tension in his voice.

A shaky breath. My lips parted, but no words came out.

Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of Seungmin standing a few steps away.

Frozen.

For the first time since this tour started, he looked…unsure. His usual sharp eyes were wide, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

But I couldn’t focus on him.

Because my head was spinning, my skin was on fire, and the weight of every mistake, every moment I ignored my body’s warning signs, had finally come crashing down.

And now?

I wasn’t in control anymore.

The coolness of the backstage area barely helped with the heat radiating off my skin.

I felt cold and hot at the same time, my limbs too heavy, my breathing uneven.

Voices blurred together.

"Her temperature is high."

"She needs fluids—has she eaten today?"

"She’s completely burned out."

I tried to speak to tell them I was fine, but my throat felt raw. The most I could manage was a weak, halfhearted shake of my head.

"Don’t try to talk," Ari’s voice was there, close, softer than before. "They’re just checking your vitals."

I swallowed, eyes flickering open.

The faces above me were blurry, shifting in and out of focus. A few staff members kneeled beside me, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead, speaking in hushed tones.

Ari, Leah, Jeongin, and Lee Know were still there.

Lee Know stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the scene with an unreadable expression.

I tried to sit up, but the second I moved, my head spun.

A sharp inhale.

Lee Know was faster than Ari this time, pressing a hand to my shoulder and easily keeping me down.

"Not happening," he muttered. "Just rest, okay?"

Leah crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

I didn’t answer.

Because I knew the truth would only piss them off more.

Before I could gather enough strength to argue, the managers arrived.

Their voices were firm, no room for negotiation.

"She’s not performing tonight."

The words hit like a slap, and suddenly, the heaviness in my body wasn’t just from being sick.

I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the pounding in my head as I looked between them. "No. I can still do it."

"Y/N," Leah warned, eyes flashing with frustration.

But I wasn’t listening.

I turned to the managers again, pushing past the ache in my limbs. "I’ll be fine by showtime. I just need—"

"You just collapsed on stage," Ari cut in, arms crossed. "There’s no debate. You’re sitting this one out."

No.

No, no, no.

I had spent weeks proving myself, clawing my way through every performance, every mistake, every doubt.

I wasn’t losing my spot now.

"I can do this," I tried again, my voice hoarse. "I just—"

"Oh!" A voice interrupted, and I didn’t have to look to know who it belonged to.

Mira.

She strolled into view, faux concern plastered all over her face, hands clasped in front of her. "If she can’t go on, I can step in."

The air shifted.

For a split second, nobody spoke.

Then, one of the managers nodded. "That could work. You already know the choreo."

My stomach twisted violently.

Mira turned to me, her smile oh-so sweet, but her eyes telling an entirely different story.

"Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll take good care of your part."

I felt numb.

The room was still spinning, but the real sickness sat in my chest.

I should have fought back. I should have said something.

But the moment Mira tilted her head, smiling like she had won, everything inside me just… shut off.

I went blank.

Ari’s head snapped toward Mira, eyes narrowing. "You’re really volunteering that fast, huh?"

Mira turned to her, expression perfectly innocent. "What do you mean? Someone has to do it."

Ari’s lips pressed together, but she didn’t buy it. I could see the irritation tighten her jaw, the way her hands fisted at her sides.

She wasn’t the only one.

Lee Know, who had been mostly quiet until now, finally spoke.

"You sure you can handle it?" His voice was flat, unreadable, but there was something pointed underneath.

Mira smiled wider. "I mean, it’s not that complicated, right?"

Ari let out a sharp breath, like she was physically stopping herself from saying something she’d regret.

Lee Know just stared at Mira for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he turned to me.

"Y/N."

I blinked, but I couldn’t force words out.

What was I supposed to say?

Mira had already taken my spot.

Nothing I said would change it now.

So I just looked away.

-

The moment Mira stepped away from me, I could already hear her faking concern as she walked over to the others.

"Guys, change of plans," she said, voice just loud enough for me to hear from where I sat. "Y/N isn’t performing tonight, so I’ll be taking her place."

The reaction was immediate.

Kat’s face twisted in confusion. "Wait, what? Since when?"

Mira sighed dramatically, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Since about five minutes ago," she said. "The managers agreed, and I already know the choreo, so it just makes sense."

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered toward me, his concern obvious. "And Y/N’s okay with this?"

Mira didn’t even hesitate. "Well, she didn’t argue."

Ari scoffed. "Yeah, because she’s half-conscious."

The room tensed.

Mira only shrugged, smiling just a little. "Either way, we should start getting ready."

Lee Know, who had been watching the whole thing in silence, finally spoke. "Just don’t mess it up." His tone was neutral, but his expression wasn’t.

Mira’s smile didn’t falter. "Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got this."

And with that, she turned away, ready to steal the show.

I barely registered the conversation.

I barely felt anything at all.

Because the second they all turned away, the second I was left sitting backstage, my chest tightened in a way I couldn’t control.

I blinked up at the ceiling, forcing back the burning in my throat.

I had lost my spot.

After everything I had fought for—**after every moment I forced myself to push through, to prove I was worth something—**I was still replaceable.

And the worst part?

Mira was making sure I knew it.

My hands curled into fists, nails pressing into my palms. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the feeling of failure from swallowing me whole.

I had fought so hard.

And it still wasn’t enough.

-

By the time the show started, I was watching from the wings, still too weak to stand on my own.

The lights hit the stage, the energy buzzing through the arena as Stellar performed without me.

And then, it happened.

Mira did my move.

Not just any move—my signature move. The one I had created, the one I had made my own.

The audience cheered like nothing was wrong.

Mira beamed.

And I?

I felt sick for a whole new reason.

The energy backstage was still buzzing, staff members congratulating each other, the usual post-show adrenaline filling the space.

But I wasn’t part of it.

I sat off to the side, still too weak to stand properly, watching as everyone came back from the stage.

And Mira?

She made a beeline toward me.

She tilted her head, still in full makeup and costume, wiping sweat off her brow like she had just saved the whole show.

And then she smiled.

"That was fun," she said sweetly. "I mean, I wouldn’t want to replace you permanently or anything, but… I did fit in pretty well, don’t you think?"

She let the words sink in, let them cut.

Then, with a final smirk, she turned and walked off.

And I sat there, feeling like I had lost everything.

I needed to get out of here.

The post-show energy, the voices, the flashing lights from the screens playing encore footage—it was too much.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the way my legs wobbled beneath me.

Leah and Ari noticed immediately, their heads snapping in my direction, but I didn’t give them time to stop me.

I kept my head down and moved, weaving past staff and dancers, making my way toward the private restroom backstage.

My hands were trembling by the time I pushed the door open.

The second it closed behind me, the weight I had been holding in collapsed all at once.

I braced myself against the sink, sucking in sharp, uneven breaths.

Everything hit me at once.

The exhaustion.

The humiliation.

The sharp, suffocating feeling of being replaced so easily.

A ragged breath tore from my throat, and I gripped the edges of the sink, my vision blurring as my chest heaved.

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t—

A soft knock at the door made me freeze.

My stomach twisted.

For a second, I thought it was Leah or Ari coming to check on me.

But then—

"Y/N."

I went rigid.

Because that wasn’t Leah.

Or Ari.

Or anyone I would’ve expected.

It was Seungmin.

I gripped the sink harder, willing my breaths to even out, willing myself to stay silent.

Maybe if I didn’t answer, he’d take the hint and leave.

Seconds passed.

Then—

"I know you’re in there."

His voice was calm. Not sharp, not teasing—just even.

I clenched my jaw, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Red-rimmed eyes. Flushed skin. The complete opposite of the image I was supposed to keep up.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat.

Silence.

Maybe he’d take that as an answer.

Then he spoke again.

"So that’s it?" A slight shift in his tone, like he was testing the waters. "You’re just gonna sit in there and pretend nothing happened?"

My fingers twitched against the cool porcelain.

That’s exactly what I was going to do.

Pretend this wasn’t happening.

Pretend I wasn’t falling apart.

Another pause.

Then, softer this time—"You don’t have to pretend with me."

Something in my chest tensed.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sink even harder.

Why was he still standing there?

And more importantly—why did it sound like he actually meant that?

A long beat of silence stretched between us.

I refused to move. Refused to speak.

But Seungmin wasn’t leaving.

Instead, he let out a slow exhale, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, less guarded.

"You know… I thought you were stronger than this."

Something in me flinched.

His tone wasn’t mocking, wasn’t sharp—just honest. And that somehow made it worse.

He shifted outside the door, and I could almost picture him standing there, arms crossed, debating what to say next.

"All this time, you’ve acted like nothing gets to you. Like you don’t care what people say." A pause. "But you do, don’t you?"

I sucked in a quiet breath, my grip on the sink tightening.

"You care too much."

Another pause.

Then—"That’s why you don’t fight back."

My stomach twisted.

Because I hated how close to the truth that was.

I stared down at my reflection on the floor, my own exhausted eyes staring back at me.

And still, I didn’t say a word.

Seungmin shifted again, like he was about to say more—then stopped himself.

A beat of silence.

Then, his voice dropped to almost a murmur.

"You know, you’re not the only one who’s ever felt like this."

I blinked.

My breath hitched just slightly, but I caught it before it could be heard.

I didn’t know what I was expecting him to say, but… not that.

Something in his voice was different now.

Less sharp.

Less detached.

More like he actually… understood.

I swallowed, my chest tightening with something I couldn’t place.

And yet—I still said nothing.

I heard him shift once more, but this time, he hesitated.

Then, after one last pause—I heard footsteps.

He was leaving.

But somehow, it didn’t feel like an ending.

It felt like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready to face.

The room was quiet again.

No more footsteps.

No more words.

Just me.

I stayed where I was, back pressed against the cool tiles, knees pulled up to my chest.

My breathing had finally evened out, but my mind was far from calm.

Seungmin’s voice still echoed in my head.

"You know… I thought you were stronger than this."

"That’s why you don’t fight back."

"You care too much."

I wanted to ignore it. Pretend like none of this happened.

But I couldn’t.

Because somehow, for the first time since this tour started, Seungmin didn’t sound like my enemy.

And that thought alone terrified me.

I exhaled, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, just thinking.

Minutes passed—maybe longer.

Eventually, my legs felt steady enough to move.

I pushed myself up, straightened my hoodie, and finally unlocked the door.

The hallway was empty now.

No one waiting.

No one lingering.

And yet, as I stepped out, the weight of what just happened still clung to me.

The venue had mostly cleared out by now—staff moving equipment, dancers heading back to their dressing rooms, the energy finally settling after the chaos of the night.

Seungmin was off to the side, stretching out his shoulders, his expression unreadable.

Jeongin had been watching him for a while.

And he was done staying quiet.

He stepped up beside him, arms crossed. "I know what you’re doing."

Seungmin barely glanced at him. "What are you talking about?"

Jeongin let out a sharp exhale through his nose, shaking his head. "You and Mira. You’ve been messing with her this whole time."

That got Seungmin’s attention.

His expression barely shifted, but Jeongin knew him too well to miss the way his jaw tensed.

Still, he played it cool. "You sound paranoid."

Jeongin huffed, not buying it for a second.

"You think I didn’t notice?" He tilted his head. "The mic feedback. The ‘accidental’ positioning mistakes. Mira shifting in formations just enough to throw Y/N off. You might think you're being slick, but I see it."

Seungmin’s hands curled into loose fists.

But Jeongin wasn’t finished.

"And tonight?" His voice lowered. "You let Mira take her spot. You watched her steal Y/N’s move. And you didn’t say a thing."

Seungmin’s eyes flickered, but he kept his face carefully blank.

Jeongin took a step closer. "Tell me this, hyung." His voice hardened. "At what point does it stop being funny?"

Silence.

For a moment, Seungmin didn’t respond.

Then—"It was never funny."

Jeongin’s brows furrowed. "Then why?"

Seungmin exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck, but he didn’t answer.

Because maybe—for the first time since this started—he wasn’t sure anymore.

Why had he gone along with Mira’s games?

At first, it was easy. It was just harmless frustration, just a way to get under Y/N’s skin—because she annoyed him, right?

That’s what he told himself.

But now?

After seeing her collapse on stage, after watching her lose everything she worked for while Mira stole her place without hesitation?

It didn’t feel like a game anymore.

And suddenly, he wasn’t so sure who the real problem was.

Taglist: @victoriaaf @mirophobic @minhosprettywife @peskybirdysya @littlewolfieposts

[diam1nd]

this comes without saying, an outstanding number of people have reached out to me w/ similar experiences ranging from gaslighting, misogynistic behaviors, guilt tripping, manipulation, love bombing, and blatant disrespect in many forms of uncomfortable messages from yes, apollo.

i had no idea just how deep this rabbit hole went, i was completely fooled from someone i deeply cared and was reminded that everything was fine and supported, and honestly i thought i was going to just let it be. but with over 17 concerned muns coming forward to share their experiences, i for one need to air out these concerns.

despite beginning to feel more comfortable, this whole situation has me in a spin. i want this to be my peace, and for all of those wanting to know the real reason my prev blog was deactivated and blocking the person who is the curator of this anxiety.

my experience was being lead into a single ship scenario because they felt intimidated by one single blog that my emma interacted with in a usfw manner. mind you, no relationship or feelings attached and i was writing with this person before developing anything irl with him. but for some reason, they were self-inserting ME as my muse, doubling it as an act of cheating on his muses, and made him uncomfortable as a person who has claimed to been deceived in that manner themselves. my immediate response was a voice call to help calm him down and reassure that everything was okay and that i am not emma, and i am not involving myself with that muse or mun in any sexual/relation based manner. it was by his recommendation that single ship would be better so that this problem would never resurface or would not have to worry in the future. at first, and i say lead because, i wasn't 100% for it at first. it felt a bit unfair because i am fully aware that i am not my muse, and this is fictional writing. but to avoid another "im deleting my blog" scenario guilt trip, i talked myself into agreeing with the single ship, to which became a reasonable standard with my blogs. when it came to making an official post, it took an incredible amount of pushing to get him to do that, and now that i really know why, is he was messaging many people for additional ships that he didn't want me to know that he wasn't honoring his end of this agreement. this past weekend, he decided that single ship wasn't good for him after i finally confronted him about the unfairness and well, here we are. me, a sentimental person, wasn't okay with going back and forth, especially when i changed how i write my own muse to better suit someones comfort levels. which is confusing to me because the initial complaint from him was he was annoyed with how people only want to ship with his ocs, all the while bad mouthing others (my friends) who partake in usfw writing. i know for a fact, if i would of agreed to go back to multiship, another problem would of popped up even tho his solution was to blacklist usfw tags so he didn't 'see' anything, despite still reporting to me on the same muns blog he had issues with. i feel it's a grab for control. and i asked him, with an open mind, how is it fair that i am to accept all of this change when he is not? me deleting for my sanity because, honestly, "now you know how i felt when emma fucked bucky" was never going to be resolved soundly. this was a grab to forcefully make me feel bad indefinitely because he didn't like something. it's possessive behavior. i was constantly told how he was going to delete everything then turn around to blame me for everything; then i asked if he could part ways with tumblr with me, and i was met with more gaslighting. this is fictional writing, we should have never gotten to this point.

there's another the issue where someone confronted him about graphics being in mirrored likeness, which i never saw myself because he wanted to keep it a quiet. said person has reached out to me and confirmed that he too tried to guilt trip them into deleting his blogs and blaming a de*th as for reason for stealing inspiration, even after claiming to change theirs in his likeness. i won't go into detail about his personal life, but i've never heard that as a reason why, especially when he's claimed to using this type of style long before this loss occurred. i did make a post via a rant, supporting one of my friends in a similar situation but he also knew very well it was also in his defense. we were on voice call, again, and he knew the moment i posted it and asked me to delete it the next day because he claims he resolved the issue. which i found out is not true. if you're going to admit to someone you stole something, why lie to me?

another mun in particular came out to admit to me that he was flirting with her, and has asked him to stop a number of times due to her being actually married. but once another callout resurfaced for them, in their experience he flaked out on being their friend because of fear of being affiliated. basically, i'm not going to allow you to pretend you don't know me online, and then try to be my friend behind closed doors in dms. when asked if he knew about these two people, the answer i got was "i saw a callout and that's about it." i'm glad she stood her ground on that because i too, felt like a secret.

more instances were brought to my attention whilst we were 'dating', he was also love bombing and getting attached to others very quickly while entertaining the idea of ME. i've been shown a history of unsolicited affection and desire for shipping his muse with everyone with a pulse and getting attached to all of these muns as well. to me, this is was shocking to learn about while you were pointing the finger at me accusing myself of blatant cheating. not once did he ever tell me anything felt forced, but that he needed me, felt lost without me.

from what im gathering from all of these muns, we were all manipulated to believe someone who claims is a charming gentleman, has the capabilities to gaslight and make you feel incredibly bad about feeling a certain way, or even stating how something was making them uncomfortable. many were fooled as i was, trying to comfort someone who clearly had a complex to receive attention from as much people as possible without them even knowing a bit of backstory. pinning people against people. these additional muns that came forward TO ME, have all explained the same level of discomfort they felt in dms with him directly. it's honestly beyond words to explain how deep this goes. i'm not going to list every single encounter thus far, because honestly.. this would be far too long and i want those others to make their peace.

i do not plan to release screenshots publicly because that's not who i am. but just know, all 17(and counting..) of us have a collection for those who want the truth. i want this post as an urged warning to be careful, no witch hunts or hate. curate your space as you see fit. i sincerely hope that those that are still by his side, do not get the treatment that we all got. i tried my best to resolve this with him privately, but was met with aggression and mockery, and now as i'm being told, pretending nothing happened.

..and because i know he will read this, for the record, i could of handled a simple break up / mutual parting ways. i'm a grown woman that would of accepted that, but you took this way too far. you've played a part in me feeling insecure about others when i shouldn't have, you selfishly kept me in your corner and made me feel in the wrong about so so many things. where you now display as we were forced. you played the blame game in attempt to get me to question my sanity and awareness of what was really going on. i didn't get a choice. im glad you were finally able to be honest to me, but i only wish you would of told me sooner. thankfully this was short lived. i never pinned you as this type of person, but good lord.

my discord alongside many many others is open to show every bit of proof we have for reference, or to just talk it out. please be safe.

[cator99]

top 10 long-term psychiatric lockdown facility patients:

#1. "DJ B-Rad": severely hyperactive autistic 11 year old. Looked and acted like some sort of elf. Would only respond to DJ B-Rad. Spoke and conversed pretty much exclusively in outbursts of classic youtube poop quotes. The other kids thought he was schizophrenic but I understood him and appreciated the humor he brought to what was often a quite dour situation. The place held I think 30 kids at a time�� 10 per wing, divided by the risk-level associated with their interactions/how much care they needed. I was in the "low risk" section... in a room beside DJ B-Rad. He would frequently beatbox while partaking in the enjoyment of punching or hitting himself. Not in a depressive or self-haming way, nor in a "the voices made me do it" way. He just seemed to genuinely enjoy it. #1 because I have never met someone with such jouissance before or since. (and also because I wanted to start this off on a high note.)

#2. really charismatic stylish fat girl, maybe 15 or 16, who told everyone she was autistic. all professionals dissuaded her from mentioning it since that didn't seem to be her problem and really she didn't seem to have any beyond claiming to be autistic for no appparent reason. It became clear very quickly that she was self diagnosed and had her autism refuted by every professional she had come across. Regardless– she didn't seem to know why she was there either. She genuinely came across as normal, confident, well-adjusted, healthy family life, so why was she there? I had a bit of a crush on her and she had lesbian moms so i kept my fingers crossed that she would self diagnose herself as some flavor of kweer. I didn't think too hard about it back then because in all honesty I hadnt the faintest idea of what autistic even meant and no one seemed able to give me a straight answer. In hindsight... my conspiracy theory is that her moms initially took her to a psychologist because she kept telling people she was super autistic and back then that sort of claim carried massive weight (non zero chance tumblr played a part in her autism proclamation, but she was way ahead of the curve seeing as this was like... early 2012. in canada. I wasnt really online back then so idk when this sort of thing started to pick up steam but judging by how 2013 unfolded im gonna guess that it was right about then...) so maybe they thought she was like having some sort of very pressing identity issues or psychosis maybe muchausen and decided to ship her off without delay... A genuinely normal girl adamant on having a disability that was considered (especially back then. especially after DJ B-Rad.) debilitating must have seemed so insane..... until suddenly it wasn't lol (even normies I know nowadays say things like "everyone is a little autistic") . She arrived a few weeks before my graduation and at that point almost all of the people I spent my time with were gone and the place was full of randos who I otherwise didn't gaf about which meant I was able to spend more time getting to get to know her, trying to understand why she was there and what autism meant. Unfortunately, her timing could not have been worse. No one had time to entertain her autism claims. She had arrived almost immediately after the grand spergfest that was DJ B-Rad's graduation dinner. the bar was high. If you were gonna be calling yourself autistic, you were gonna have to prove it. She didn't seem at all bothered, nor deterred, nor invalidated by the professionals refusing to entertain the idea of her being even slightly on the spectrum... she was certain they were just ableist. During group therapy, when trying to get to the bottom of things, the "why" of her stay here, what issues she may have been dealing with, anything really... There didn't seem to be an answer. She most often took on a supportive role for others that came across as slightly tone deaf because she was trying to tell trauma patients to just keep their chin up and stay positive... which on paper could be possibly bad faith interpreted as "socially autistic" but no it more so came across as out of touch, as one of the rare patients who didnt have a background involving trauma, poverty, neglect, mental illness, etc. But to be honest, most people seemed to appreciate just having a truly unbothered, kind, and optimistic peer around– her intentions were, at the very least, pure. And for someone with low-level munchhausen, it didn't seem as though she was doing it for attention, nor did she fake any symptoms, or do anything really beyond say "i am autistic" and continue on with her day which I'm sure was extra confusing for the professionals dealing with her to wrap their heads around at the time.

#3. The Escape Artist: 14, caring and emotionally intelligent when she let her guard down, but typically quite guarded. Screwed up from her life on the rez. Always kept it real– I had some of my best discussions about life in general with her. By the time I got there, she had taken on a sort of mythical status as the unapproachable girl who had almost escaped the facility, and as a result had her stay extended "indefinitely". The minimum (and typical) stay was 4 months... by the time I arrived, she had been there for over 6 months, and she was still there when I "graduated" 4 months later. The story was that not long into her stay, she was being led back inside with the rest of the herd following a highly-supervised game of soccer in the fenced-off field attached to the back of the facility. To get outside at any time, you have to go through two (or 3) sets of locked doors. Beyond that... I mean, this place is in the middle of nowhere. This isn't some city psych ward shit. But security wasn't as tight as the staff let on. She had been plotting and waiting for a chance to escape for weeks– it was almost all she thought about. As the crowd was ushered along, distractions and misbehaving children were plentiful. While the staff were suddenly very wrapped up in dealing with whatever pressing issue had begun occurring, she realized that the door behind them had not closed properly. She somehow slipped out unseen, and managed to get a 10 minute head start before they realized she had vanished. She had run out the back, climbed the fence, hurt herself in doing so, but booked it down the highway regardless. She was in the middle of attempting to board a bus at one of its very few stops between this nowhere-place and the nearby city, when suddenly she was tackled down by staff who had been frantically driving around looking for her. Every kid there joked about plotting their escape– so of course she was a legend for having gotten that far. However, her response was always to roll her eyes at anyone who even joked about it: "Dont be stupid. Just do your 4 months. It passes like nothing." While she tended to be withdrawn from other patients, she had close relationships with all the staff there- including the ones who caught her- and often admitted that she wasn't sure anymore what she would do if they told her that it was her turn to graduate. Her entire support system was there. She didn't want to leave. At some point the program director decided she was making good progress and tried to push her on the path of the family reintigration stage. First time she went out for a brief day-pass type visit with her family, she stabbed herself in the stomach. Spent some time in an actual hospital. Upon her return, she played it cool and acted like it was no big deal, even tried to warp it into a badass thing while she showed us her stitches. But we all knew it was fucked up and that the next group therapy everyone was gonna have to sit back and give her the front and center even though she wanted to brush it off. She otherwise did seem happy to be back, even as she was placed back on "indefinitely stay" status. She was one of few I kept in touch with... which became very difficult very fast as she proceeded to dissappear for months and then years at a time, with the only indications of what's going on being people posting to her fb page asking if she's out of jail yet.

#4. Future Millenial Cringe Tiktok Star: 17, Baddie of the low-risk wing. She always had the most useful insight to offer during group-therapy (split by sex– sorry4tangent but of course as a fresh ftm I asked to get put into the "boys" group– was talked out of it by a staff member who assured me that it was an absolute shitshow in there and that yeah I could go down that road and maybe succeed but I would 100% regret it. I talked to some of the guys who told me it was just 2 hours of total retardation and anger outbursts often leading to physical fights and restraint-room utilization, all to the soundtrack of DJ B-Rad yelling "Pizza Time!" "PINGAS" "You Must Die" "Sos" etc. lol)... I always admired her maturity, level-headedness, and ability to tell off the dipshit dudes there in such a way that the staff had her back, and I often asked her how tf to handle this shit while maintaining my sanity. She was certain that you don't, but that's alright– comes with the territory– and if your sanity is reliant on being kept in here then you're not going to know how to cope on the ouside– she frequently said that hating it there and wanting to leave was a good thing (as you could imagine, her and Escapee had a strained relationship, and while Escapee would directly bring these things up with her, she saw the topic as dead on arrival since she was there solely for herself and knew it, and kept form boundaries between herself and other patients, which isnt to say she didnt engage with others but I could tell she was... I guess just way more self aware than the rest of us, likely due to her being the oldest one there), but sometimes people challenged this idea by positing that she was just saying that to justify her negativity, since it "wasn't that bad" there. She assured them that it wasn't normal to be locked up in a psychiatric facility, and that not treating it like a vacation wasn't a failure on her part– she was there putting in hard work to sort her shit out, and thought that it was a waste to just sit around waiting for it to be over. Oh also staff low-key knew she had snuck a phone onto the wing but didn't care really, because she was a model patient (phone was snuck in during her "family reintigration" period nearing the end of her stay, where the program gives patient families the opportunity to visit and go out for the day– and more rarely but sometimes even overnight, depending on the patient. All of this was pretty rare tho because kids often came from idgaf-families)... not much else to say except she was dope and it's weird seeing her getting dunked on online for calling herself clumsy in a tiktok. She once ran for some political position while also being open about the fact that she was a stripper. She almost got voted in too (small town politics moment)I honestly wish she had because she has always seemed very intelligent and driven...

[eempyreall]

♪ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♪

༺ Beneath The Waters ༻

Oneshot ~ Jujutsu Kaisen x Female Reader

Summary ~ As a marine biologist, you rescue an injured siren. Now, five of them are obsessed with you—and they’ll never let you go.

Featuring ~ Gojo Satoru, Sukuna Ryomen, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, and Kamo Choso

Extra Notes ~ Tokyo Revengers’ Version - Blue Lock’s Version - Oc’s Version

*I am not a marine biologist, I searched up everything that pertains to the career.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr, ao3, wattpad, subscribestar, and patreon. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

|| Warning ||

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

The ocean always harbored a serene atmosphere at night.

Although you spent most of your days amidst the sea, working alongside your team as the waves rocked against the trawler, you couldn’t deny the tranquil ambience of sitting on shore while the stars glowed amongst the nightly blue firmament.

To clarify, you enjoy your career. Although there are different categories of work, such as laboratory and data analysis, you spend your day diving into the deep seas, collecting sea specimens, studying all the beauty the earth provides underwater, and giving your fellow biologists something to write about.

It contrasted with your lingering fear of the deeper abyss that the ocean conceals. There was always an underlying edge of caution when dealing with the intrusive thoughts that plagued your mind. You spent most of your time in reefs—the brighter, most pleasing section of the sea.

“You ready to get going?”

You shift your head towards the voice that came from your right.

Your eyes meet the dark irises of one of your teammates, a close friend of yours who studied alongside you during your growth in the marine industry. You lift yourself from the sand, pants slightly stained from the debris, as you brush your palm along your bottom.

“Nah. I’m gonna stay a little longer,” you reply, sighing as you eye the gentle waves of the sea. “You can go without me. I know that we got an early shift tomorrow.”

Riku raises a brow at you while crossing his arms. “You know that even if they’re real, you’re not gonna find anything, right?”

Ah, I’m about to get the same lecture, aren’t I?

You roll your eyes as you place your hands against your hips. “Mind your business, Riku,” you sing playfully, but with an edge of solemnity in your tone.

He hums. “I’m just saying, Y/n. You’ve looked quite exhausted the last few shifts. Your hyperfixation on mermaids is becoming a problem,” he says, his voice laced with concern and slight annoyance.

You scoff, crossing your arms as you face ahead. “First of all, the term is siren. Second of all, you don’t need to worry about me. I still get my work done.”

You miss the solemn expression that appears on his face—the familiar guise of pity that always makes you shift with discomfort.

“Look, I know more than anyone that it’s hard to heal from a family member’s death, but Y/n, you’ve got to let it go.”

The statement sent a shift through your entire body, tension stiffening you in place as the memory swirling in your brain flickered before you.

“Shit! Everyone, grab the earplugs!” the leader of your team shouts.

You immediately turn to your bag, rummaging through the contents before you snatch the cord. You shove the plugs into your ears just as the song begins. Although you can feel the vibration of the melody against your chest, the blockage of your ears keeps you safe from the siren’s frequency.

When you turn around, the relief that had rushed through you drops vehemently as your eyes flick over the five members of your team—including your brother.

Your breath hitches as you watch the color drain from his eyes, his body stiff in a trance as he faces toward the siren who peers from the waves of the sea. You can only see her multicolored eyes and the pale blue hair that’s flat against her head, the rest of her strands floating around her as she stares at the men.

You feel breathless, panting as you watch them take a step forward, in unison. A spike of fear surges through your spine as the pit in your stomach deepens. You dash toward your brother, nails digging into his shoulders as you stand in front of him, using all of your weight to keep him from jumping off of the trawler.

The splashes of the others are loud, despite the plugs blocking your ears. It only makes the lump in your throat burn as you make eye contact with your brother. As a result of the dullness filling his orbs, you know that it’s too late. He’s already gone.

But you don’t stop. You continue to press against him as the sobs escape your lips.

“Please, B/n! Please, wake up,” you weep.

The siren reaches for the first man, her claws splitting the flesh of his skin as she begins her feast, ropes of red already staining the waters as the rest of the humans swim toward her. Your head shifts to the side to see that a few more sirens have appeared, the women beginning their attacks on the men. One peers from the side, awaiting the release of your brother.

Despite his dream-like state, he is strong. He pushes against you like a stone wall. His expression is bare of any emotion as he continues to stare at the ocean, shoving against you like a non-playable character in a game.

Eventually, you can’t hold on any longer.

For a while, you couldn’t forgive yourself. Despite your first shift ending in a massacre, you couldn’t accept how weak you were against the creature’s voice.

It ached.

You sat on the trawler, weeping, until the S-O-S boat arrived. You tried to warn them, but nobody believed you. It was an unexplainable event. They kicked it under the rug, rolled it up, and burned it—as if nothing happened.

It was only you and your brother, so there was no memorial. No familial speeches from family or friends, as neither of you had any, aside from Riku, who stood by your side through it all. Still, his mind couldn’t be changed along with the rest. He only accepted your obsession through pity and nothing else.

“You can go home, Riku,” you say, a tone laced with firmness and an impending rage that you keep within wraps.

His eyes flicked over you for a moment before he exhaled sharply, guilt reaching his core. “Y/n, I’m sorry—.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up and leave?” Your eyes narrowed in his direction, fingers curling around your thumbs as you squeezed before releasing the tension.

His lips pressed into a thin line before he nodded, grabbing the keys from his pocket and turning away. “See ya tomorrow,” he says before walking off.

Another hour passes as you sit on the beach, well into midnight, watching the breeze gently push against the waves. You finally stand once more, brushing yourself off as you turn towards the pathway leading to the parking lot.

An unfamiliar sound catches your attention, along with a splash of waves that echo near you. You pause, listening for a moment as your ears search for the unknown frequency once more. Your head shifts to the right as you hear another high-pitched wail coming from the distance. It was slightly guttural, a broken hum of distress.

Before you could register your own movements, you find yourself walking towards the frantic melody. Your heartbeat thuds against your chest as you follow the noise. Your pulse throbs as you feel the hairs on your skin stand tall.

That sound… it’s not quite the same, but…

Once you reach the spot, your muscles stiffen in place, brows raising in shock.

Lying in front of you is a distressed male who holds the upper body of another. His wet platinum strands frame the sharp features of his facial structure as he looks down at the unmoving male. His platinum eyelashes conceal his irises as a frown laces his expression.

His skin is a silk cream, and the translucent top of his ears forms into elongated tips, almost resembling skin-colored, iridescent fins. The same texture protrudes from the sides of his arms, though with a blueish-white-hued tinge. His claws are long, gently grazing against the cheeks of the male below as he holds him against the lap of his long white tail.

The male below him matches the fish-like features, though the pigment laces a deep, almost black, indigo hue against his fins and long tail. His black hair is disheveled and wet, though flaring under his head as the siren holds him. His eyes are shut, irises concealed by his lids as he seems to be trapped within a deep slumber.

Crimson covers the side of his torso, staining the sand beneath. From the distance you stand, you fail to see the exact wound. Your brows furrow as determination sets into your core, and you turn your back to the sirens as you jog to your car.

Why do I feel the urge to help? I should just let him die.

But you know that it isn’t fair to blame them for a tragedy that occurred years ago. It isn’t fair to blame the entire species for something that’s a part of their nature.

Your search for their existence is only to prove to yourself and the others that the incident wasn’t imagined. That sirens are real and should be studied. This only motivates you for your shift tomorrow.

After you return with the first aid, you steadily make your way towards the two men, earplugs stuck in your ears as you walk closer. You can’t deny the pressure in your chest, anxiety striking you the closer you get.

Once the conscious siren noticed another presence, he shifted his gaze towards you, icy blue irises peering through the lashes that lined his lids. You pause when you recognize the tension of his muscles, a scowl reaching his expression as a distorted melody rang from his lips.

You held your hands up in surrender, ensuring that your movements remained slow and gentle so as to not alarm the creature. A memory of the section of a passage you read during your studies of this mythological species reminded you of their ability to understand various languages, humans included. It was adapted for survival as their variety grew.

“It’s alright. I’m not here as an enemy, but as an aid,” you say, voice proper as you point towards the first aid kit in your hand. “I see that your friend is hurt. I’ve only come to help, if you’ll let me.”

He didn’t move. His gaze remained locked on you with a menacing guise. Despite the danger that radiated off of the creature, you recognized his urge to protect his loved one. It was expected.

You twist the box to face his view, unclipping the clasp as you open the lid, allowing him to observe the contents clearly. “As you can see, I mean no harm. With that amount of blood loss, your friend doesn’t have much time. Just let me help, please,” you say with a calm tone.

Why do I want to help them so bad?

Maybe his protectiveness of the unconscious being reminded you of the feelings you had during your brother’s trance. You understand what it feels like to have someone ripped away from you under circumstances you can’t control. Both sirens are vulnerable in this state. It’s clear that the blue-eyed male cares deeply for the man below him.

You watch as his eyes narrow, his expression revealing his contemplation as he stares at you with wonder. Eventually, he bowed his head to the side, nodding over to the other siren in defeat. You exhale in relief, heading over to the injured man before you kneeled beside him.

You rummaged through the box as you grabbed the necessities to dab, clean, and wrap the wound. The platinum-haired male watched you with caution, eyes roaming over your movements as you tended to the wound.

I never thought I’d ever be in this predicament.

But you didn’t hate it. To be able to help another aid a loved one, despite the resentment you held for the species, caused warmth to spread throughout your stomach.

The patch-up didn’t take long.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t known you were holding in as you clipped the box shut. The torso of the siren was successfully wrapped.

“I’d advise you to stay out of the water for a little longer, just to give the bleeding time to stop,” you suggest. You already knew that sirens could stay above water for long periods of time. They could live on land if they had legs, though some studies show that very few can transform their tails.

The siren only stared at you with the same cautious look as before, though it had slightly softened. Suddenly, movement catches both of your attention as both of your eyes shift toward the man below you. The man’s eyelids flutter open as he reveals dark, purple irises that flick over to you.

You couldn’t shake the strike of anxiety that surged through your spine, heart beating against your chest as he studied you with an intense gaze. His eyes shifted downward to his wound as you began to grab the box.

I think it’s time for me to leave.

Before you can lift yourself from the ground, a clawed hand shoots to your jaw as you’re held in place. You feel shock contort amongst your expression as your body stiffened to the tight grip.

What the fuck?

The creature leaned forward, slightly flicking his wrist to observe your features with his eyes slightly squinted, as if he was analyzing data and saving it to a file in his brain.

Your hand reached for his wrist, gently lowering it as you picked yourself up from the sand.

“Um… get better,” you quickly say, turning away as you walk toward the parking lot. You cursed yourself for the lack of knowledge on what else you could’ve said, slightly embarrassed.

You could feel their gazes locked on your back as you made your way off the beach.

The next morning was uneventful, your daily routine of deep-diving into the sea stretched throughout the day. It was finally the afternoon, your team filing the samples you and Riku had just collected from the reef you are currently studying.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the sirens you had met the night before. On one hand, you wanted to inform Riku of what you had experienced, wishing you had taken a picture from your phone as proof, but on the other hand, you knew that it wouldn’t have been an appropriate time for that. You also understood that Riku would remain stubborn with his disbelief until you provide physical evidence.

It was a lost cause.

“Break’s over. Let’s get going!” your team leader yelled across the small ship.

You eye the surface of the waves, heavily pushing along the foundation of the ship while the anchor holds you all in place. The sky is a bright blue, clouds streaking across the firmament as the sun shines a bright yellow. It’s a beautiful day, and yet, you couldn’t rid yourself of the pit that formed in your chest.

“Hey, Y/n. I still want to let you know that I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. You were right that it’s none of my business,” Riku said as he prepared the scuba gear on his form.

You followed along, chuckling in response as you placed the mask over your face. “I know. It’s whatever,” you say before patting him on the back. “We’re good.”

He nodded as he placed the snorkel in his mouth, slightly smiling in return before he hopped into the water. Shortly after, you followed his form as you dived into the ocean.

Your arms swayed against the pressure of the water as you peered through the goggles. You swam towards the opposite direction of Riku, aiming for the area that you were assigned to.

Moments later, you reached the colorful section of the reef, passing by various types of fish and sea creatures, some of which you found fascinating to observe. Once you reached the species of fish you were focused on for the shift, you connected a biologging sensor to the animal so that the laboratory could collect data on the behavior and whereabouts of the creature without hurting it.

During your session of tracking the correct species, a familiar sound echoed throughout the vicinity as your body floats. When your head turns in the direction of the noise, a swift force circled around your figure, startling you in the process as the bubbles of the water lined your vision.

Once it all settles, your eyes widen behind the goggles as you stare at the male siren in front of you.

His features aren’t far from the fins you had seen attached to the sirens during the previous evening. The translucent hue is tinged with a deep red, along with the elongated tail that curled around your form as he observed you. His pink locks flared upward, symbols embedded within his skin as his red eyes flicked over you.

As he studied you, his head tilted in recognition before a smirk curled on his expression, revealing his sharp teeth. If you hadn’t studied the body language of sirens for so long, you would’ve thought you were going to be his next meal. He merely looked curious until he gave you a knowing glance.

Suddenly, you jolted as he released a loud, guttural frequency through his lips.

You listened as the rush of water appeared from your sides, head shifting left and right as you searched for the source.

Suddenly, you feel a hand grip your arm as you’re tugged to the side, your eyes shifting over to the new male who appeared.

Another male with similar fish-like features as the former siren came into view. His color scheme is a dark, murky green, iridescent fins tinged with the hue as his claws wrapped around your arm. His short black strands flared around his head as his bangs framed his face. His tail is long, a green that matches his fins.

His lids are a natural slant, green irises shifting over you as a lazy smirk reaches his expression. Your brows raise in confusion at the ambush. Before you can yank your arm out of his grip, you felt a constriction against your opposite arm as another male appeared on the other side of your form.

You face the third siren, a man with two, dark brown pigtails that flow in the water. A dark symbol is drawn over his face as a red hue surrounds his eyelids. The edge of his translucent fins are laced with an obsidian black, along with his tail.

His eyes flicked over you with a bored expression, lips falling apart as an unsettling, melodic frequency echoed from his mouth, revealing his razor sharp teeth.

Your breath hitches as you’re pulled forward, the force abrupt as the water rushes past you. The two men gripping your arms follow behind the red-tailed siren as they make their way through the depths of the ocean, leading you deeper.

What the fuck? Where are they taking me?

You hoped that they wouldn’t travel deep enough for your lungs to compress. Despite your attempts to escape, their claws grazed your skin as their fingers curled tightly around you.

Suddenly, you noticed the lowered percentage of your oxygen tank, eyes widening as you realized you had strayed underwater for far too long. You begin to thrash in their hold, your movements more desperate than before.

Finally, the sirens stop in place, turning their attention to you with a mixture of confusion and annoyance on their expressions. You quickly gesture toward your tank and make a breathing motion before pointing upward.

They pause for a moment, giving each other a quick glance before releasing your arms. You hold your hands up in surrender before swimming upwards, rushing to the surface in a desperate attempt to make it before your oxygen runs out.

Once you made it back to the surface, water splashed around you as you broke through the waves, reaching for the strap that connected you to the ship and pulling yourself onto the platform. Your chest heaves as you fumble with the straps of the mask, yanking it off as you pant.

“Y/n? What the hell happened? You were under for so long I almost came to find you!” Riku exclaimed, rushing toward you as he grabbed the equipment from your hands to help you out of your gear.

You only continue to ease your breathing as the memories of what just occurred swirled through your mind. You couldn’t concentrate on Riku’s muffled words. Your vision is slightly distorted, a sudden dizziness causing your body to feel heavy as your head shifts toward the ocean.

Your thoughts morphed into jumbled words as darkness reached your vision, engulfing you into the void that tugs at your consciousness.

You felt the breeze kiss against your skin as your eyelashes fluttered open. The rays of the sun shine bright over you, the warmth engulfing your skin. As you slowly pull your upper body up from the ground, you could feel the sand sticking to your arms and legs. As you lean forward, your eyes perk, startled as you notice the men sitting around your figure.

What are they doing here? What am I even doing here? Wasn’t I on the ship?

You blinked as you noticed Suguru sitting beside you, legs replacing the obsidian tail that once was there. His arm rested over a propped knee as his bare feet pressed against the sand, shorts concealing his lower region.

Wait… did I just identify his name? How do I even know it?

You look around, seeing the men sitting around you. Satoru sat on your right in the same position as Suguru, though with shorts that matched the white tail he once had. You eyed the back of Choso’s head, dark brown hair waving against the wind as he stared ahead, sitting in front of you, black shorts covering his bottom.

Your brows furrowed as you twisted yourself around, eyeing both Sukuna and Toji who sat behind you, though with their legs stretched out and ankles crossed, leaning on the back of their palms as they didn’t even spare a glance.

What the fuck is going on? Why do I know all of their names?

Your heart begins to race as you try to make sense of the situation. Something feels wrong.

This… this doesn’t feel real.

“Did you know that soulmates can feel a pull towards each other, even when they’re miles apart?” Suguru’s calm voice cuts through the silence before you turn your attention to him.

You feel puzzled by his statement. “Soulmates?” you question, confusion lacing your tone.

You couldn’t see it, but as you walked away from the injured siren and his friend, a long, red thread protruded from your back as it connected you to the men’s chests, splitting at the end as the sirens eyed the fabric.

“It’s her. She’s the fated sixth.”

The male turned his head slightly, facing you with an easy smirk on his expression. “You can swim all you want, but the tide will always pull you along, no matter how much you fight against it.”

Suddenly, a rush of water fills your lungs as your eyes widen, your reality shifting underwater as the depths of the ocean carry you along. Your mask is vacant, along with the oxygen tank that was yanked off of you.

You couldn’t breathe. Your mouth was forced open by the pressure of the water as if it was filling your body. You gasped, suffocating as you thrashed against the surface.

Riku was in front of you, reaching for you with terror drawn over his expression. But then you notice the crimson tendrils that float around him, lowering your gaze amidst the chaos of your erratic motion as you yelp, his lower body completely detached from his torso. He was split from the middle, nothing but a gaping, fleshy hole, his insides floating.

As your vision begins to blur, you realize that you never escaped the ocean. You never even had a chance.

Glowing eyes settle around you as the sirens circle your form, the threads constricting any movement as you float in the middle of the formation. A light glows from the bottom of the sea, spreading throughout the vicinity as it engulfs your dying form.

Pressure forces your legs to press together, contorting your limbs into an unnatural formation as you twist and turn against the threads. Pain erupted throughout your body as you released a guttural scream from the agony shooting through your lower half.

Eventually, you couldn’t feel your legs as you normally would. They stretched until scales covered the skin, a multicolored hue forming as a long tail emerged from your body. You could feel your arms and ears shifting, fins protruding from your skin, matching the color of your tail.

You didn’t have time to feel the disbelief, shock, or devastation as the familiar void tugs at your essence.

—𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.

—𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 (𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜)

wc: 1369

You sit up in bed, breathing ragged as you hold a hand to your chest. Your lips are apart as the sweat beads along the lining of your forehead. You quickly pat the palms of your hands against your neck and torso as you ensure that you’re alive and physically apparent.

The lowering sun gleams through the crack of the curtains as it shines over the bedroom. You snatch the covers from your lower half, examining your legs as you curl your toes for reassurance. You exhale a slow breath as you fall back onto your pillow in relief.

[thatstupidplant]

So, I said I wohld have been gone for a while...

But I saw this artpeace  by @isjasz (her tumblr) and it became my reason to live

So... Enjoy this oneshot while it last :D

Ps: I wanted to post it on AO3 too, but I don't have an account and I found out there is a FUCKING WAITING LIST, LIKE- WHYYYY I DON'T WANNA WAIT FOR MAY 18TH

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

Hotguy looked at at the city from the ceiling, it all looked to peaceful during the night.

He immediately forgot what he was here for though, which was a problem and a very Scar thing to do. But unfortunately he wasn't allowed to be Scar at the moment. His train of though stopped when an arrow almost hit him.

Ah yes, Cuteguy.

Cuteguy wasn't the best one with bow and arrows, he was way better at a close battle, but he was good enough to startle Hotguy when needed. In this moment it was needed.

Hotguy turned around to see who almost made him blind, ready to trasform to atoms whoever attacked him, but his face got painted with a smile as soon as he looked at the slim figure above him, in a near roof trying his best not to die of laughter.

Scaf realized that the painter decorating his face also, accidentally, splashed a little bit of red.

Just a tiny bit, hard to see without the mask and impossible with it.

"Hotguy, wasn't expecting you to be early" the avian figure said while getting closer.

While the pink and white wings made an awfull distraction, the taller hero remembered that Cuteguy had to talk to him about something important

"Why do you think I'd be late? I wouldn't want my darling to wait" The taller hero said while jokingly kissing the other hero's hand.

Until he noticed something.

The mask was normal, his wings were normal, but the outfit was different: Cuteguy usually wore a white and pink attire, which made him the 'opposite' of Hotguy, but today he was wearing black shirt and pants with his jacket. That was his 'hidden' outfit, used when the avian wasn't meant to be seen (it was something Hotguy didn't need as much as Cuteguy because his outfit was already pretty dark)

Hotguy had dark hair, Cuteguy's were light; Hotguy was tall, Cuteguy had the intention to be; Hotguy was flirtous while Cuteguy was...

"Are you listening to me?"

Scar mind said no, but his expression said 'please don't ask me that'

"Oh yeah, totally"

Cuteguy folded his hands. A suspicious expression on his face.

"Then what did I say?"

Yep. He was screwed.

The brunette hero searched is memory, but it was empty.

"Youu... weerreee.... talking about... safety?"

"No."

Fuck

Yes, Hotguy was kind of screwed now.

"Ok, ok, I wasn't listening"

Scar said while moving his hands. Cuteguy slapped his face muttering something similar a 'this idiot', but Scar didn't hear it well.

"I was talking about what the public think of us!"

"And what does the public think of us?"

The avian started to mentally pray God to, please, have a smarter partner. But he started to remember all the time Hotguy had brillant ideas and hated the fact that he was just too innocent to be an adult man.

"The fact that everyone thinks we're dating, Hotguy"

Scar stopped. No, it wasn't Hotguy, it was Scar. The man hid his fear with the flirtuois smile and the confident attitude, but he couldn't lie saying the though of kissing those lips interested him...

'No Scar, you can fuck your collegue'

"And what is we made it true?"

Hotguy started to walk towards Cuteguy, with his sicure composure,a playful smile and an emotion Cuteguy couldn't innitially recognize.

But when the realization came, it made his stomach go upside down. Why did Hoteguy had lust in his eyes? He always joked about kissing him, calling him 'his boyfriend', offering his hand and playful flirting like these.

'Cuteguy' didn't have something to complain about it, but Grian hated how his face would become more and more like the red of his natural wings color.

He started walking back, searching to escape the bumping of his heart. He hit the border of the roof that, fortunately and unfortunately, had a small wall. He sat on the wall and waited. Hotguy stopped right infront of his face, looking in his eyes. Grian made his 'Cuteguy' mask fell off and decided to relax, just relax, even if Hotguy was always clingy it was rare to have him this close so maybe he should have just enjoyed the momeng. His expression calmed down, the sleepyness of the middle of the night appeared.

"So... do you accept my offe-"

Hotguy almost jumped when CUteguy's head landed on his shoulder. If you asked him, he would have said he was completely calm, but his heartrate said something else. Did Cuteguy really fell asleep on him? What was he suppose to do now?

"I'm not asleep, I just want..." Cute guys without continuing and putting his arms behind Hotguy's back.

They both remained there, too scared to scare the moment away by moving. After what we can count as some seconds, but for them seemed hours, Hotguy put his hands on Cuteguy's back making it the best hug Grian recieved in years.

When was the last time he was hugged like this? When was the last time someone cared so much?

They stayed there, waiting for the morning as the sun started rising from behind.

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Author's note:

Idk if I like it or not, maybe I could make a second attempt in the future.

Anygays, gor now this is it, it was a pleasure feeling some Scarian, something that I will do more in the future with a ne-

*COFF COFF*

I MEAN... EH EH... NOTHING!

[mochamvgz]

what they would save ur contact as

; i don't think this needs a synopsis? it's all in the title

; ot7 enhypen x reader

; genre: hcs, non idol au, established relationship, fluff

; warnings: slight profanity, miraculous, some members being total simps, being called short by niki

; 0.5k words

; perm taglist: @inkelea @yuerki

heeseung || ramyeon partner🍜💛

the two of you LOVE ramyeon so it's only fitting. your first date, all the way back when you guys were in uni, was having ramyeon at a local convenience store for crying out loud!

and OF COURSE you immediately fished out your phone from your pocket to change his contact to the same

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

jay || my pretty girl💐 (in a completely not possesive and absolutely unpatriarchal way!)

if you saw xander hawthorne you're a real one pls marry me

we already know this guy is THE ultimate green flag so this came as a surprise to no one

you and jay are also massive feminists and no sticklers for insecure masculinity hence the parenthesis

when you find out what you're saved as on his phone you can't help but fall in love with your boyfriend all over again

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

jake || bugaboo🐞❤️🖤

if you think miraculous is a kids show GET OUTTA HERE

"there's no way you saved me as that"

"why? is there a problem bugaboo?"

without a word you unlock your phone, open ur contacts, scroll down to find his and hold it up in front of him

jake raises his brow at you and directs his attention to your screen, his mouth immediately forming an 'o'

" ‘chat noir’ ? oh my god you're kidding!"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

sunghoon || (name)

the guy first saved your number when you were paired up for a project which was 2 whole years ago mind you and for some reason it just never? occurred? to him? to change it??

of course you're mad when you find out

"seriously hoon?"

"i'm sor-"

"give me your phone"

he complies. you unlock and open his contacts going to ‘favourites’, clicking on your contact which is at the top of the list duh

you change your contact name from ‘(name)’ to ‘the love of my life💘’ and hand his phone back. he raises his brows when he sees what you did but doesn't say anything because it's true

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

sunoo || QWEEN🙌👑

"YES!!! GO QUEEN!!!"

you guys were hanging out at his place one day, all snuggled up watching a movie and the female lead just did something super badass making you jump up

sunoo doesn't waste a moment grabbing the opportunity

"but you're my queen"

you're surprised at the abruptness of the compliment but try to appear more ‘seriously dude?’ rather than a blushing mess

"what? it's true i even have your contact saved as that"

he brandishes his phone to show you

there's no stopping the blush now

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

jungwon || yang jungwon's girlfriend 😤💖💓

when you ask him why he's referring to himself in third person he'd say

"in case my phone ever gets stolen or something, the thief would still know you're mine"

you can't take it anymore and burst out laughing

"what?" he'd ask with his brows furrowed

"you're ridiculous"

"but you still love me" he's right about that

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

niki || shortie🙄

to be fair your height is above average but your boyfriend is a fucking giant and even then you're only like 2 cm shorter

he still can't leave it alone tho and teases you about it to no end

"are you for real?"

"what? it's true ya know"

"for fuck's sake it's only 2 cm"

and just like that the two of you are at it again

; a/n: surprise surprise! my first hc yayyy! i hope this turned out okay bc i had no idea what i was doing lmao💀 ily if you got the reference in the jake one no i don't just mean miraculous

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