#doors so overrated

[itachi86]

"And with that, Jack gave Santa a short bow, then waltzed over to the office window and pulled it open. He started unscrewing the candy cane bars. Santa frowned. “I have a door, you know.” But Jack waved him off. “Bah! Doors! So overrated. That’s why you prefer chimneys, am I right? And we, in Halloween Town, like to exit by the window.” He beamed. “Why, it’s practically a tradition.”

-Sally's Lament

[glfry]

Can we please talk about all the new animations in the ttyd remake ESPECIALLY the surprised ones here oh my god

[ashlynlovestlou]

ellie fucking you in the middle of the night <3

cw: smut , nsfw , men dni , strap usage , reader sits on ellie's face , dom! ellie , sub! reader , kinda vanilla , reader and ellie's relationship is a secret , y/n used (im sorry) , sitting on ellie's face

masterlist

daily click

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the problem is, you dont want to keep things casual. you said it because it felt like a thing you should say when you start fucking your best friend. now, you're lying in bed wearing ellie's shirt, wishing shed sneak down the stairs and crawl in with you.

you try to talk yourself out of it so many times. you'd already almost got caught once. but your body doesn't care and neither does your heart. you want her hands in your hair, her warm skin against your own.

which is why you creep through a dark house and up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid any creaking that might wake up joel. one peek into his room at the top of the stairs and you see him sprawled like a starfish. your lips curve up at the sight and then you very, very gently shut his bedroom door before padding down to the secondary bedroom as the opposite end of the hallway.

the door is closed and no light shines from beneath. you twist the handle and walk right in. her curtains are open and ambient light from outside filters in through the massive windows. the door clicks shut behind you and you walk across to the king-sized bed. much like joel, she is all long, muscular limbs stretched out in the middle.

unlike joel, you don't turn away.

you press one knee onto the mattress and crawl in her direction. ellie's breaths are deep, and the entire bed has a faint sandalwood smell. you think you'd settle for just lying here beside her, breathing her in.

instead, you kneel at her side. soaking her in, so relaxed. she looks younger—more carefree—like this.

with one hand, you trail the tip of your fingers over her lips—just like you did every time joel had his back on the two of you. a simple gesture, just to remind her you were there, even if it was for a moment.

ellie's big strong hand flies up, steely fingers wrapping around your wrist, "y/n."

it's not a question. she knows it's you.

"hi."

"what are you doing?" she asks from behind closed eyes.

"touching you."

her lips curve up into a sinful smile, "i thought you wanted to keep things casual in front of joel."

"right." you whisper, "it's just that i thought about it and decided being casual is overrated. i want you to touch me too."

a raspy chuckle spills from her as her green eyes open and dive into your own. chills erupt from the back of your neck, racing down your spine and over your arms.

"so, what now?" she asks beneath a quirked brow.

"i don't know." you suddenly feel nervous. you snuck up there with no plan, only knowing you wanted to be close to her, "do you want me to leave?"

she stares at you extra hard now. it's borderline unnerving. the weight of her stare. the way your stomach flip-flops under her attention. you've never felt this way before.

"no, y/n. i want you up here." her voice is soft and deep as she reaches for you. broad hands circle your waist and you squeal as she hauls you on to her, so you're straddling her torso.

"gonna need you to be quiet, baby." she murmurs as her palms slide up over your quads, tips of her fingers dipping inside your underwear at your hips.

all you can do is nod, lick your lips, and watch how good her hands look roaming over your body.

"n-now what?" you practically stutter.

"now you're going to hold on tight to that headboard, sit on my face, and try to keep your mouth shut while i make you come."

before you can respond, she's moved you up, yanked the gusset of you panties to the side, and has her tongue in your pussy.

you gasp and fall forward, holding the headboard like she instructed, more out of needing something to hold on to than because you're good at following directions.

your head falls back when her teeth graze you clit. she palms your ass and holds you close, like she's eating her favorite fruit. her eagerness does nothing but drive you even more wild.

"hmmm," you hum, trying to cover for the string of expletives currently sitting on the tip of your tongue. your thighs shake with the strain of holding yourself over her and fingers dig in hard.

ellie pulls away, only to grumble at you in that deep tone. "baby, i said be quiet. and stop being polite. i told you to sit on my face." the hand gripping your underwear yanks you down hard so that you're fully seated.

she sucks your clit and your body bows into her. her hand slides up from your ass, over your hip, stomach, and up to your breast, where she gently caresses you. she holds you. touches you.

she gives your nipple a good, firm twist that has you gasping and grinding against her mouth. all the response you get is a satisfied growl against your core as she continues to lick, and suck, and tease.

you ride her shamelessly. she told you to stop being polite, and so you do. you lose yourself in the sensation, the feel of her skin on yours. the smell of her wrapped around you.

there's something empowering in asking for what you want. to be touched when you want. and you're drunk on that—drunk on her—when everything inside you clenches. when that pressure builds so quickly, so intensely, you can't hold back... you shatter.

you feel like you blew apart into a million little pieces. your skin is hot, your eyelids feel heavy. and as much as you try to stay quiet, you can't.

her hand shoots up over your mouth and you slump into it, using her arm to prop yourself up while you cling to the headboard.

"ellie," you whisper as she moves you down. her limbs are moving and there's fabric rustling around you, but you're too incoherent to keep up, "ellie."

"y/n, baby. i told you to stay quiet."

your brain is too addled to care. "more." you fold yourself over her, dropping your head into the crook of her neck and kissing her there. your teeth graze over the lobe of her ear, and you realize she's removed her boxers while you blacked out. and, she had put on her strap that she conveniently kept in her nightstand.

"more?"

you nod, feeling her throat move against your forehead as he swallows. "more."

her hands move firmly, all business, as she removes your underwear. then she sits up, leaning against the headboard and taking you with her.

you can feel her hard length propped against your ass as she positions the two of you.

her eyes stay on your face as she reaches down to grip the hem of her shirt. the one she gave you to sleep in when she walked you to the guest room door and told you it might help you miss her less. right before she smirked that annoying, i'm-right-and-you-know-it smirk of hers.

she wasn't, though. which is why you're here.

your body coils with anticipation again as ellie's gaze rakes over your bare skin.

her hands roam slowly yet purposefully. over your arms, your collarbones. reading you like braille. you think she's always been able to, and you just didn't know it.

"i'm not sure you can handle more, baby." she kisses your chest as your hands move in tandem, feeling her in a way you didn't get to earlier. "you're not very good at keeping quiet."

"i'll be good," you murmur, grinding your pussy back on her and feeling her steely silicon dick twitch against your ass.

suddenly her lips are on your nipples and your hands are raking through her hair. she reaches between the two of you, urging you up onto your knees, you move obediently, and in return, you're rewarded by the sensation of her faux cock sliding against your pussy.

back and forth. back and forth. your eyes flutter shuts she tortures you. one hand grips your shoulder while the other is fisted around her length. you swivel your hips, feeling her crown notch inside you.

"goddamn, honey. you're even better than i fucking dreamed," she mutters roughly. then she shoves herself in, and you bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. because no one and nothing has ever felt this good.

your eyes snap open as your body adjusts. the light sight of her taking you so roughly has the blood thrumming through your veins at a rapid pace. your heart pounding even harder than before.

you stare at each other. her cock is buried deep inside you his.

"move, y/n. show me how bad you want it."

your pelvis undulates because you do want it. you lift and you drop back down, feeling every thick inch of her as you do. reveling in the way her eyes widen before taking on a more hooded appearance.

what starts off slow and deliberate comes apart at the seams. hands that were searching are now gripping.

breathing that was even is now choppy. everything is hot and damp as you writhe together in silence.

you don't need words. they wouldn't do justice to something that feels like this anyway.

"you're gonna come on my cock now, aren't you, baby?" she growls roughly, breathlessly, against your ear. your body shudders in response. "i can tell. your eyes give it away, even in the dark. then every muscle on you goes all tight. you ride me so damn hard. so eager. so warm. so fucking tight."

you're so full of her. her words. her body. it's too much, and right when youre about to go barreling over that edge again, she kisses you soundly, swallowing the sound of you screaming her name as you come.

with a fist full of your hair, she pumps into you hard.

spilling herself, filling you up thoroughly right as your orgasm rocks you. flays you. leaves you slumped in her arms, desperately trying to catch your breath.

you don't know how long the two of you stay like that. you straddling her lap, her cock snugly inside you, clinging to each other and kissing. slow, languid, deliberate kisses that make your throat ache with their tenderness. eventually they slow and ellie tolls you off her carefully.

always carefully. even when she's rough with you, shes so damn intentional. you feel nothing short of pampered with her. and when she gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, the point is only driven further home.

"what are you doing?" you breathe the words, trying to stay quiet as she comes to kneel between your splayed legs.

"taking care of you."

the warm cloth swipes over your swollen core and you let out a soft moan. "you don't need to do that."

she continues wiping you gently. "but i want to."

you're struck silent by such a simple sentence.

you lie in ellie's bed, letting her take care of you. and when she's finished, she lifts the covers, crawls in behind you, and holds your body against hers all night long.

[icanseethefuture333]

How to gain followers as an influencer according to your Midheaven

Aries MC:

These influencers are blunt and say whatever that comes to mind. They have a confident aura to themselves and a lot of people gravitate towards them because of how infectious their personality is. Aries MC as influencers are competitive, bold, and outgoing. They also can have a cute and bubbly nature due to Aries being the youngest of the zodiac signs. In order to gain followers or success an influencer - speak your mind. Post pictures of yourself in the gym, dancing, or playing sports, Aries are known for their athleticism and people admire the amount of energy they possess. Aries MC do best in their career as an influencer when they are energetic and thriving in life. Their following might go down if they talk about losing or show a significant change of attitude in their content such as accepting defeat. Fans can emphasize with them if they open up about trauma and abuse.

Loren Gray’s most viral video is when she transitioned from blonde to brown hair. Making bold choices such as a change in hair color, makeup, or fashion style will attract more attention.

(Ex: Tana Mongeau, Loren Gray, Lisa)

Taurus MC:

The misconception of Taurus MCs is that they are always perceived as classy or being “refined” in their aesthetic. When the most famous Taurus MCs influencers are the exact opposite. They have this “untouchable” essence to them (“Yo voy voy voy”). Like those cool girls you pass by in the mall and never see again. They live a life of fun and luxury, their stories you always want to tune in because they’re always doing something interesting. Taurus MCs need to give little by little, share your interests while also keep an air of mystery to yourself. They are the life of the party and you can often see them enjoying good food, alcohol, and/or on vacation. Taurus MCs can pull off slick buns, gold hoops, glossy lips, and tight clothing like no other as well. Unless they are showing off their riches and bragging, people will get bored of them. They don’t want someone they can relate to, so these people often get put on a pedestal or people look up to them for motivation. Most likely to be the ones on somebody's vision board. People are turned off when they display arrogance and envy out of insecurity.

Alex Consani’s most viral video of her is at a fancy restaurant singing “Lifestyle” by Young Thug.

(Ex: Alex Consani, Alexa Demie, Selena Gomez)

Gemini MC:

These girlies are some chatterboxes. They are similar to Aries MCs in a way when it comes to saying whatever they want but what they say often… doesn’t make sense but also totally makes sense, yk? The girls that get it, get it, and the girls that don’t, don’t! Queens/kings of musically fr. Gemini MCs are good at being animated and cunning when creating content. They act really ditsy and lost but they are secretly very intelligent. To gain followers, just be WEIRD, but not weird as in it being forced to be unique and different. I mean weird as just being yourself - unfiltered. Imagine yourself at 10 years old and how annoying but funny they were then letting it out as an adult now that you have control of your life. Give your inner child that space to be creative and humorous without overthinking.

Trisha Paytas being a Gemini MC in her most viral videos. That is all.

(Ex: Trisha Paytas, Liza Koshy, Bella Hadid)

Cancer MC:

Ahh Cancer MCs, they just give mother, ykwim? Something about them is just so feminine and nurturing. If they are young in age, people are drawn to their girl/boy next door vibes. They often fit the beauty standard and are praised for their youthful features. They are way over romanticized sometimes and people have an unhealthy obsession with them. People often see Cancer MCs as overrated but honestly who cares? You are capable of gaining followers by making content with family members, at home, or honestly doing the bare minimum (this placement doesn’t require much effort).

Ari Fletcher is famous for being the girlfriend of rapper G Herbo and mother of their son, Yosohn, she often posts videos of her and their son together.

(Ex: Charli D’amelio, Ari Fletcher, Zoë Kravitz)

Leo MC:

Divaaaas. Leo MCs just give celebrity through and through. They are probably some of the youngest influencers out there. These are the people who were in their bathroom making YouTube videos at 11 and getting over millions of views just for talking about their day at school. They could talk a lot of shit and people would just tune in for the gossip. They are hilarious and entertaining to watch. Always hated but could never be imitated. They are just that it girl/boy. Leo MCs gain attention for their voluminous hair, balanced features, and radiant style. The more they shine, the better. These people gain followers when they look the most glamorous and behave unapologetically themselves. Fun to hear them talk while drunk too. Might have to make a few apologies throughout their career but their fans are loyal and would never turn their back on them lol. “They could never make me hate you ahhh😝”. Leo MCs live by the saying “only god could cancel me”, the feline that got 9 lives. Haters would even miss them if they died.

Bretman Rock’s viral contour video that’s … dare I say chaotic.

(Ex: Justine Skye, Bretman Rock, Doja Cat)

Virgo MC:

True natural beauty. These people probably started the “clean girl” trend, they are so effortlessly perfect at everything they do. Top student of their class, successful in their career, etc. You name it. Virgo MCs are admired for their good reputation and clean image (or in another case, when their reputation goes to shit, they can salvage it by being clever and profiting it off themselves. Kim Kardashian became famous for being in a sex tape and ever since then she’s been one of the biggest influencers in the entertainment industry). They gain followers for posting content of their everyday routine, cleaning habits, and comfortable but stylish wardrobe. These people lose attention when they are looking messy and dirty. Sometimes engaging in reckless behavior and not always being the “perfect” girl people perceive them as can gain attention - good or bad. These people may have a harder time keeping up with the standards people enforce onto them and often face criticism more than others which could impact their mental as well as physical health.

(Ex: Yara Shahidi, Hailey Baldwin Bieber, Maya Jama)

Libra MC:

The ultimate beauty gurus omg! These are the best people to receive beauty tips from. Unfortunately, people could never look as pretty as them but they could at least learn tips that would help them enhance their appearance with makeup, skincare, etc. Libra MCs are the embodiment of beauty and style, they make the perfect influencers and a lot of them are very popular on social media. They know how to balance humor while being serious when giving advice, giving off big sister/brother vibes. The beauty standards they present could be unattainable, so they could receive both love and hate from others because they are not able to replicate them. These influencers are the type to set trends such as “#wonyoungism” and what not. Wearing pink, using your artistic skills, and being an advocate for a cause you care about could attract more followers.

Jenna Marbles most famous video is ironically about “how to trick people into thinking you’re good looking”.

(Ex: Jenna Marbles, Kylie Jenner, Michelle Phan)

Scorpio MC:

Sexy spooky gals. Scorpio MCs possess a beauty that is haunting to the mind, they are the bad girls/boys. They are daring by nature and their quirky personalities contrast with their sensual appearance. These placements could be former porn stars or be very popular on onlyfans (*cough cough* Mia Khalifa). They are often involved in scandals, dating rumors, and people view them as dramatic. Indulge in people’s fantasies and feed into others illusions. Emphasize your eyes by doing a smoker eyeliner look, contour your cheeks, and wearing a nude lip is a signature look for the Scorpio MCs. Wearing leather, revealing, or stripper type clothing and having tattoos is part of their grand appeal as well. Entertain your fans by engaging in harmless flirting and venting about your emotions.

Quenlin has been gaining popularity recently for being involved in a dating rumor that her, Billie Ellish, and Odessa are in a throuple after making a video together.

(Ex: Emma Chamberlain, Quenlin Blackwell, India Love)

Sagittarius MC:

The one everyone wishes to find. These people become the most searched in a matter of seconds. Everyone wants to know who they are, what’s their name, and where are they from. Sagittarius MCs could be praised for their “exotic” look or extravagant style. Wear clothing and jewelry from foreign countries, these people have to give off the vibe they just came back from vacation. They are often seen sporting tans and look good in “airport fashion". To gain followers, post content of videos of yourself talking in the car, traveling, going to the airport, being on vacation, driving to your favorite places, and/or speaking in foreign languages. Sagittarius MCs become famous “unintentionally” and they experience a lot of luck and success within their career. Being too stagnant could harm their success.

Cindy Kimberly went viral after Justin Bieber posted her on his instagram asking people who she was.

(Ex: Cindy Kimberly, Khloe Kardashian, Jenna Ortega)

Capricorn MC:

These mfers are always mewing. Patrick Bateman core. These are the business moguls, supermodels, and professional gamers. They are competitive and efficient when it comes to their work. They look great in black and have noticeable tattoos. Similar to Scorpio MCs with having a baddie image but instead of being just “bad”, they give off mafia vibes. The sexy super villain that’s hard to resist and secretly rooting for. People want to know how much money they make and what they did to achieve being rich (“sprinkle sprinkle”). Capricorn MCs are appreciated for their dedication and hard work. People admire them most when they talk about their struggles and how they overcame obstacles to become successful. Although, if they are someone who benefits from nepotism, people could really despise them. Be the unbothered queen/king you’re meant to be and invest in yourself, remember your time and energy is valuable.

Rihanna’s most viral video is of her saying “she could beat me but she could not beat my outfit” during a speech.

(Ex: Vinnie Hacker, Rihanna, Kendall Jenner)

Aquarius MC:

The definition of social media stars. These are the innovators and trend starters. They are the reason influencers are so big now on the internet. Aquarius MCs gain popularity for their unique perspective and usage of technology (cameras, editing content, etc). They could post about tech, talking about interests from their fandom, doing Q&As, and having a close relationship with their fans. People admire how friendly and down to earth they are. Aquarius MCs lose followers when they are cold and distant. These people could wear just about anything but look best in a hoodie, sunglasses, and jeans. They are oh so casual chic.

Madison Beer went viral in her cover of Etta James when she was only 13, she showed gratitude to her fans in the comment section and was praised by Justin Bieber as well.

(Ex: Madison Beer, Jackie Aina, Dixie D’amelio)

Pisces MC:

These people just spawned into existence. They are otherworldly in terms of appearance. Pisces MCs are quite strange when it comes to how they express themselves and people who are often misunderstood find comfort in these public figures. As influencers, their style has spiritual or mystical elements. They look like a fantasy character come to life and their makeup style can be quite bizarre. These people lose followers when they try to fit in and dim their light. They make a positive impact on others when they talk about acceptance and self love. Pisces MCs’ sexuality could be a hot topic as well and they might be very progressive with their views. These people could be psychic and are very intuitive in terms of the future.

Julia Fox’s most popular video is about how her son was born the same day her best friend who died (she also talked about how she came to her in a dream to tell her she was having a boy!)

(Ex: Julia Fox, Addison Rae, James Charles)

[holybibly]

Unholy thoughts of the day: The gorgeous and experienced Omega Hwa seduces the innocent and tender newcomer Omega next door.

You're shy, sweet, pretty and completely innocent - totally his type. And oh my, what luck, you just introduced yourself as an Omega. A late bloomer, but already so ripe, juicy, perfect for fucking. He wants to sink his teeth into you and Seonghwa is sure that instead of bleeding you'll bleed honey. He can taste the sticky sugar of your slime on his tongue and he wants to taste more.

Your thighs are so curvy and lush that they'll fit perfectly around his head as you ride his face. Oh, how embarrassed you'll be the first time you sit on your well-deserved throne, but Hwa will teach you. Teach you to do and behave as he pleases.

It's such a cliché that all Omegas should fuck Alphas, that they all need this overrated knot. Seonghwa knows many other ways to make cute Omegas cum over and over again.

Your parents trust him, of course, he is such a model Omega, so gentle, so well-behaved, so kind. And of course he has that notorious maternal instinct, and honestly, Hwa doesn't mind being a pretty mommy, but only for sweet, sugary Omegas that he can fuck for hours on end.

You are too cute, your panties are white and soft, with all those frills and bows. You have so many of them that you don't even notice when a few pairs are missing - the ones stained with your mucus.

So innocent, he wants to ruin you, rebuild you as he pleases. You look like a doll and Hwa can't wait to play with you.

You spend so much time in his house and your smell is everywhere except his bed, but that's for now. He's already started preparing a nest for you - pillows, blankets, sweets, handcuffs. You can't go anywhere, Seonghwa is already addicted.

Your parents trust him, trust him so much that they let you stay with Seonghwa for a while while they go on a business trip. It's a pity no one told them that the most dangerous animals hide behind sugar wrappers.

Seonghwa wants you, he knows how to seduce you, how to make you crawl to him on your knees. How to teach you how to honor him properly.He is not ashamed to walk in front of you almost naked, he likes it when you look at his body, he wants you to lick it with your little tongue. He wants to feel your hands on his cock, he wants to spit in your mouth after you have come on his tongue and see how you swallow.

He wants you to become a real whore, a slutty little angel just for his entertainment, his bitch. Even if you don't realise it yet, you already belong to him. After all, whatever Seonghwa wants, he gets.

Maybe somewhere in the world your amazing Alpha is waiting for you, of course you should have one or more, after all Alpha harems are quite common, but Hwa will never let you go and he is a damn sight better than any fucking Alpha.

[hopesangelsprite]

The Summoning

Pairing: Vampire!Illumi x Reader

Summary: Being immortal can grow very old, very quickly and Illumi's found that out the hard way. The only reasonable solution would be to find a suitable playmate, right?

Warnings: mentions of blood/death/murder, biting, size/strength difference, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, breeding kink, degradation, female ejaculation, manipulation (vampire compulsion)

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

Viewer discretion is advised.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cast me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

Illumi watched with half-lidded eyes as his servants removed a corpse from his feet, nothing left of the younger male but an empty, soulless husk. How many had he gone through now? 30? 300? Whatever the death toll was, it didn't matter. Illumi no longer cared for numbers, the sheer quantity of his years on earth drawing him to the conclusion that they were overrated.

"Bring me the next one.", he ordered while leaning further into the large throne chair he'd taken residence in, "If this one doesn't satisfy me, I'll be draining one of you in their place.". Illumi let threat roll off his blood-stained lips easily, keen on fulfilling it should he be presented another weakling.

There was a brief silence before the doors to his quarters opened, your figure edging closer uncertainly. The closer you got, the better he was able to analyze you. Unlike his previous victims, there were no tears in your eyes or trembling in your limbs. Though you eyed him warily, he sensed you were more curious than afraid. You were quite attractive, as well; with smooth curves just barely concealed by what was left of a skirt and halter top. As you finally got within arm's reach of him, you sank to your knees with fluttering lashes.

Illumi's cock twitched at the sight, the position giving him a perfect view of your tits and exposed thighs. "Do you know why you're here, pretty thing?", he inquired whilst making a mental note of just how fragile you were in comparison to him. To any mortal man, you'd be considered healthy, maybe even too much so for those on the weaker end of the male spectrum. To Illumi, however, you were nothing but a doll, a plaything he could bend and contort to his undead heart's content.

"I was running from my old life... I was promised shelter.", you answered after a moment and Illumi chuckled. He leaned forward, crimson tongue flicking over glinting fangs, and grasped your face with a large, ring-laden hand. "There's no safety for you here, little doll, only death or imprisonment.", he drawled out, keen eyes catching the way your thighs pressed together at his touch. With one hand, you removed his hand from your face, head turning to place a kiss on his palm. The other you placed on his dark denim-clad thigh, fingers tracing patterns into the coarse material. "Then I should aim to please, no?", you inquired as your hand crept closer to his belt.

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

A smirk graced Illumi's lips at your insinuation, lust deepening within him as you carefully undid his belt's clasp. So, he leaned back, dark eyes watching you like a predator behind inky tresses. He pushed his hips forward to allow you better access to him, reveling in the tiny gasp you let out upon freeing his cock. His skin was milky, fading into a pretty pink closer to his weeping tip; a few veins adorned his shaft, a little longer than he was thick. Your mouth watered at the sight, core moistening as you took him into your hands.

Illumi groaned at the softness of your skin against his, catching his bottom lip between a fang as you gave him a few experimental strokes. You shuffled closer, knees no doubt bruising from the floor's harsh surface. You placed your chin on his knees, inquiring eyes boring into his as you swiped a thumb over his leaky slit; you were seeking permission, how wonderfully submissive of you. "Go on then, have a taste.", he permitted with a lazy nod.

His breath caught in his throat as your warm, plush lips enveloped his cockhead, your tongue following shortly afterward. You kissed him wetly, the taste of precum unfamiliar yet welcomed. You took him into your mouth once more, this time sucking him as far back into your throat as you could. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled through Illumi's chest as he watched you begin to come up for air, a blood-stained hand tangling itself into your hair to stop your rising and push you down further. "Now, now. Don't underestimate yourself, darling, you can take a little bit more.", he mewled over the sound of your gagging, "Can't you?".

Illumi finally let you up after a few moments, cooing at the sight of tear-streaked mascara kissing your cheeks. Still, your eyes only held a strange look of awe and adoration; one that Illumi found himself mirroring as you continued to suck him off ever so sweetly. Illumi hissed as he pulled you off his cock, leaning down to catch your lips with his. He deepened the kiss as he guided you from the floor onto his lap, the taste of his arousal on your tongue only making him harder.

As Illumi broke the kiss, lips dipping to nip at your neck while his hands slipped underneath your skirt, a low curse escaped him as his fingers met your bare, soaked core. He found his sanity waning. "Nothing underneath?", he hummed as he brought your face close to his, "What a pretty little slut you are.". He locked eyes with you, eye contact unwavering as he pushed two long fingers past your entrance and began searching for that soft, spongy spot he knew would have you singing praises.

You whimpered upon the intrusion, thighs quaking as he began scissoring you open. Illumi took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, enjoying your breathy moans and the noises coming from your sopping cunt. "Feels good, doesn't it.", he chuckled as your hips began rutting against his palm, "I think we both know what'll feel much better, though.".

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

Before you could reach your high, Illumi pulled his fingers from your cunt. Without a second of hesitation, he shoved those same fingers into your throat as he pulled you down onto his cock, allowing very little protest as your pelvises met abruptly. More tears welled behind your lash line as you adjusted to the stretch of him overfilling your pussy, tip nuzzled snuggly against your cervix and g-spot. "Filthy fucking whore.", he spat as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and began manhandling you up the expanse of his shaft, "My filthy fucking whore.".

You cried out in pleasure as he pulled you back down, setting a quick and unforgiving rhythm. Illumi watched your tits bounce beneath the fabric of your top ruefully as he continued to use you like a doll. He growled as he tugged at its neckline, hips bucking up into you as it freed your breasts with a loud rip. You shivered as Illumi leaned forward to take one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging at it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. He continued his ministrations, switching between left and right, with a single hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip while the other busied itself by rolling your clit between its thumb and index finger.

Illumi felt your soft walls flutter around him and he groaned into your skin, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. He released your tit with a loud pop, hips pistoning his cock into you faster as he licked a stripe up your chest and neck. It didn't take him long to find your pulse, suckling over the skin while imagining just how sweet you'd taste. Soon, his cock was throbbing in perfect time with your moans, his high growing closer and closer the more you called out his name and begged him to slow down. Instead, he removed himself from your neck, pulling your forehead against his to lock eyes with you.

The air between and around you quickly grew tense, a steady thrum of energy bringing you closer to your high as Illumi's dark eyes melted into a bloody, crimson shade. "Cum for me.", he moaned into your mouth, head dipping to pierce your skin with his fangs. Without warning, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, curses and pleas tumbling from your lips as the stinging pain of being bitten melded into overwhelming pleasure. Your mind grew numb as you came, your arousal spraying over Illumi's lap as he drank you in. And you let him, body trembling and unable to come down from the violent high he'd brought upon you.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

Illumi released your neck after a long moment, tongue lapping up a few stray beads of blood as he pulled your hips flush against his and filled you with his seed. Another tremor crept down your spine at the sudden hot, sticky substance filling your womb, Illumi whispering sweet nothings and pretty vows into your ear to coax you out of the trance he'd locked you in. You blinked once, then twice, to clear the white spots and tears from your vision.

"There you are, little one.~", he purred before placing a kiss on the now bruising bite mark he'd given you, "Was afraid I lost you for a second.". All you could do was whimper, slumping forward to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Your scent faintly mingled with sex and iron filled his nostrils, tempting him to finish draining and breeding you. He let you rest, though, leaning back into the chair with his cock still plugging you full as he, too, drifted into sleep for the first time in centuries.

Besides, the venom and cum in your system would need time to take effectively.

[bunnylovesani]

CW: smut content, shower sex, degradation

Thinking about Sam Monroe who’s hell-bent on making you eat your words. He overhears you talking to your friends about how you don’t see what the big deal about sex is; “It’s so overrated, don’t get why you guys are so obsessed with it!” They roll their eyes and tell you it’s because you’ve only ever been with losers but you’re not convinced, they can’t have been that bad, right? Sam turns up at your house later that night claiming his shower isn’t working and being the good neighbour that you are, you let him waltz right in- a knowing smirk plastered on his face as he starts stripping on your bedroom floor. “Oh, I’ll uh leave you to it.” You stutter in surprise, looking away from his bare body. “Or you can come and join me.” He adds, glancing at you lustily before slipping behind the shower door. 

Not 5 minutes later, he has you bent over, whining and panting as he pounds into you with sloppy strokes. Your tits are pressed firmly against the glass- along with the side of your face thanks to the firm grip Sam has on the back of your head, cheek smushed and drool leaking out of your mouth as you babble. “What was that you were sayin’ earlier to your friends, sweetheart?” He pulls out, a string of creamy arousal connecting you. “Letting the whole world know you’ve never been fucked good before?” You plead for him to put it back in with breathless whimpers, feeling desperately empty. “Why baby? This doesn’t feel that good, right?” He slams himself back in, bottoming out as you cry out his name, whining and gasping over how good his cock felt. “Mm, I-I was- fuck- was wrong.” You struggle to get out, Sam tightening his hold on your hips as he roughly fucks you back into him. “That’s right, you’re a dumb little whore who doesn’t know anything.” He spits, wrapping his fist around your wet hair and dragging it back so he could see your heavy-lidded eyes batting at him.

“But that’s alright baby, I’ll teach you.” He plants a kiss on your forehead before shoving you back against the glass, hand pushing on your lower back to arch you even more. “I don’t wanna see you giving this pussy out to any of those fuckers again, you hear me?” You nod frantically, bouncing your ass onto him in an attempt to get him even deeper, squelching noises louder than the running water. “Such a desperate little slut, huh? You’re mine now.”

[centrally-unplanned]

VOR: Henry Kissinger

Ugh, HUGELY overrated, Bismark has nothing on him. What, truly are his accomplishments? Oh, rapprochement with China? You mean the country that had just experienced a huge split with the Soviet Union, to the point where they were scared of military conflict, that was simultaneously backing North Vietnam in a war against the US? And so we opened doors to them and gave them literally everything they asked for, hanging Taiwan out to dry, and in return got absolutely nothing; China's aid to North Vietnam actually *increased* the year after? The corpse of a roadkill dog could have done that.

The "cease fire" with North Vietnam? That's just losing with coat of paint to poorly cover the shame! At least he had the self-respect to try to return his Nobel Peace prize. Ho Chi Minh handed him his ass on a platter and somehow that is a win on his ledger.

Accelerating arms sales to the Shah of Iran in order to back separatist fighters in Iraq? Whoops! Wow, that uh, wow what a call there. Really picked the right side.

Coup against Allende in Chile? That went well! Not to mention...he didn't. Chile coup'd Chile, Allende was a complete disaster imploding the country's economy. The Chilean military asked for permission as like a token gesture, we gave them support that didn't matter. Its like taking credit for a sports team win because you bought box seats, except at this game they dropped the opposing team's family out of a helicopter headfirst onto the pitch.

All the SALT treaty stuff started under Johnson, he continued it which is fine but is VORcel stuff. His grand "pivot to Europe" was trying to link trade policy to increases in defense spending from European partners...which didn't happen. They didn't increase them. We gave them trade deals anyway. Its fucking Trump without the memes.

On March 1, 1973, Kissinger stated, "The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.

Awww "I'm such a cool little edgy boy, look at me and my joke about the Holocaust when discussing systemic discrimination against Jews the Soviet Union, surely this will somehow score me Realpolitik points on the Big Board that I can cash in for prize money while shedding America's moral legitimacy because it makes my dick hard."

He is the academic definition of style over substance, snottily walking from fuck-up to disaster to status-quo free ride and putting a pithy quote about The Nature of Power over it to pretend he had any to begin with. Hurry up and die already so I can stop running into you haggling over hostess tips at overpriced Georgetown restaurants.

F-

[g4yforethan]

APOCALYPSE

pairing: leon kennedy x male!reader

summary: leon saves reader who repays him in the best way

warnings: cursing, smut, riding, praise k!nk

a/n: can u tell i'm obsessed with him? i’m almost done wit re4 and i don’t want it to be overr ;(

it was cold and dark in the small room those deranged villagers kept you hostage in. you were hungry and tired and just wished you would make it out alive of whatever they wanted to do to you. a bang on the door interrupts your thoughts as a man enters the room. you scream and try to hit him with the lamp on the ground. he grabs your arm and you both make eye contact. “y/n graham. i’m leon kennedy. i’m here to save you on behalf of the president.” you don’t know what to do so you run out the room towards an open window. leon catches up to you and grabs a hold of you again.

“hey listen to me! i know you’re scared but you need to trust me and right now we have to go!” as he says this, the villagers start to attack the both of you. “JUMP!” he says as he pushes you out of the window. the two of you run through the village while leon shoots any villager trying to get ahold of you. you make it to a safe room to catch your breath and collect your thoughts. “thank you leon! god why are all those sick fucks after us?!” he laughes and lays down to rest. “i’m just as confused as you are. best guess is this has to do with what happened 6 years ago.” you listen to him talk and lay down next to him.

“well thank you again for saving me. it’s been a while since i’ve had an interaction with a normal human being.” he laughed and groaned as he massaged his shoulder. “shit my shoulder.” you took this as a sign. “um here i can help. just try and relax.” he agreed as you started massaging his shoulder with your soft hands. “fuck your hands feel so good.” he moaned. he was slowly turning you on. you continued doing so until you noticed leon start to put his hand on his crotch. you both made eye contact as he begged for you to touch his cock.

you unzipped his pants and began massaging his thick and hard cock. he moaned as you started to pick up the pace slowly put his dick in your mouth. "mh your mouth feels so fuckin good." he said as his hands ran through your hair. "ugh fuck im gonna cum. sto-stop-" he said as you listened to his command. "take off your clothes baby boy." leon demanded as you quickly unzipped your pants and got on top of him. his dick slowly went inside your hole as he gripped your waist. "that's it. good boy. ride daddy's dick." he said as you continued riding his dick and leon gripping your ass and rubbing it. as you rode him, you started to pick up the pace while also leaving hickies on his neck. "oh god you're such a fucking slut. fuck im gonna cum." he said as you bounced on his cock. "cum in me leon."

leon moans as he fills your hole with his warm and thick cum. he kisses your chest and rubs your back as you continue to lay on top him him, the both of you still naked. "fuck i really needed that y/n. let's say nothing about this to anyone huh?" you smile and look at him. "of course leon. your secret is safe with me." you kiss his lips as he runs his hands through your hair.

[werepuppy-steve]

i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.

they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.

she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.

[babyleostuff]

PHOTOGRAPH | JEON WONWOO

based on "photograph" by Ed Sheeran

SYNOPSIS | Wonwoo knew dating as an idol would be almost impossible, yet he was ready to take the risk. Unfortunately, you were the definition of "right person, wrong time". PAIRING | idol!wonwoo x fem!reader GENRE | angst WORD COUNT| 2.8k

natalia's note | this is wonwoo's pov from this fic, though it can be read as a stand alone

Wonwoo never cared about relationships - he thought goodmorning texts were overrated, planning dates seemed too tiresome, and he didn’t see the appeal of letting someone else wear his hoodies and sweaters. Besides, he was too busy with work and it was hard to focus on anything else than the neverending schedules. He couldn’t remember the last time he got more than five hours of sleep. 

At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

Dating in the industry was hell on earth, he knew that. Wonwoo had witnessed careers end and lifes get destroyed just because people fell in love. So, he made a promise to himself that that would never happen to him - he wouldn’t allow himself to fall for anyone, and spare himself the trouble of a broken heart and a ruined career. He didn’t care that he had no one to cuddle at night, no one to hug, no one to kiss, no one to call during tour. 

And then you came, and changed his entire world. You became his everything, his little ray of sunshine - you were the first person he looked for in the crowd during their concerts, the first person he ran to on the backstage, the first person he called after they won an award. For the first time in his life he felt complete. 

“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have worked out either way.”

He didn't even want to imagine the look on your face when he said it. Through the fucking phone. 

Wonwoo was on the verge of throwing up, but he knew that if he didn’t end it now, he’d never do it. He spent the last week crying before falling asleep from exhaustion in the night, and quickly wiping the tears that rolled down his cheeks during the day - he knew what he had to do, or both of your lives would get destroyed, and that’s something he’d never be able to live with. 

“Wonwoo, can I talk to you?” He didn’t know what to expect when their manager approached him in the middle of their rehearsal, but he definitely didn’t expect to hear that he had to break up with you, or his work and your safety would be on the line.

Wonwoo pulled the phone back from his ear, and with a shaky finger pressed the red button. 

That would be the last time he’d ever talk to you. 

We keep this love in a photograph We made these memories for ourselves Where our eyes are never closing Hearts are never broken And time's forever frozen still

Wonwoo didn’t bother with picking up his suitcase from the trunk, he knew Mingyu would pick it up for him. It generally seemed that he couldn’t be bothered with anything other than drinking himself into oblivion and crying until he passed out from exhaustion ever since he broke up with you. All of that just so he'd try to erase every possible memory he had of you together. 

With heavy shoulders, and a headache, Wonwoo shut the door to his room behind him, enveloping himself in the darkness. Usually, you’d already be there, dressed in one of his hoodies, lying on his side of the bed because you fell asleep while waiting for him. He’d tuck you in, making sure you were warm and comfortable, before he’d take a quick shower and unpack some of his stuff, so he wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning. 

The absence of you in his bed didn't hurt as much as what he saw on his bookshelves and desk, though - countless photos of you from trips, nights spent together in your apartment, photos from parties with the guys and their girlfriends, and pictures he took especially with you in mind. 

His favourite one had to be the one from Japan, when you and the rest of the seventeen girlfriends flew out to Tokyo and surprised them after they won the daesang. You were all huddled on the floor of the hotel room, trying to fit in the picture, as all of you had your arms wrapped around each other, smiles on your faces. Wonwoo could practically hear your laughter, as DK almost knocked the table down, because Seungkwan pushed him to be sure he’d be in the frame. 

“Move your ass, I want to be in the picture!” Seungwan yelled, digging his elbow into Seokmin's stomach. 

“You are, you idiot. Can’t you see that half of your face is in the frame? Stop hitting me!” DK yelled back, pushing Seungwan in return. 

Neither of you knew what was ahead of you at the time, and Wonwoo couldn’t stand the look of love in your eyes, he couldn’t stand the way he was shamelessly staring at you with nothing but adoration, like none of the other twenty people in the picture existed. 

“Fuck!” Wonwoo yelled, slamming the photo against the floor, breaking the glass. 

“Wonwoo, are you okay?” Mingyu knocked on his door a second later, making him wonder how long his friend had been standing there. “Just leave me alone,” Wonwoo said, his voice breaking, as the first tears started falling. He was surprised he was still able to cry, considering how much he was doing that for the past few days. 

“Leave me… alone.” 

So you can keep me Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet You won't ever be alone

“I miss you.” 

Wonwoo couldn’t see your face, but he knew you were pouting. He giggled to himself, and nuzzled his face further into the pillow like a lovesick teenager, smashing his glasses against his face in the process.

“I miss you too, baby,” he said, picking up his phone from the bed, as if it would make him feel any closer to you. “But I’ll be home in a week.” A week too long. 

He could hear you sigh angrily, as you started your usual rant about why overseas schedules shouldn’t be longer than five days, giving him a recap of the list you have written down in your notes app. “You can laugh as much as you want, Jeon Wonwoo, but I’m suffering here.” 

There was nothing else for him but to laugh at your sulking tone, he loved how you didn’t have any limits when it came to him and dissing his schedules. “Do you have the book I gave you before I left?” Wonwoo asked, and immediately heard some shuffling, as if you were getting up from the bed. 

“Of course, but I’m not in the mood for reading,” you sighed. To be honest, you were rarely in the mood for reading - you preferred being read to. Specifically by Wonwoo. Definitely not because you were addicted to his deep and velvety voice, at least that's what you were telling him. 

Wonwoo knew better. 

“Go get it and open it,” Wonwoo said with a soft smile on his lips, laughing when he heard your annoyed groan.

He waited patiently for you to find the book and discover a photo booth picture you thought you had lost a while ago. You took it on one of your first dates, and Wonwoo knew how much you loved that photo, so he was over the moon when he found it laying under the bookshelf when he was cleaning your room. 

“How? What? Wonwoo?” you gasped, and he couldn’t help but laugh at your surprised reaction. 

“I found it some time ago, but forgot to tell you.”

He heard you sigh quietly, and from what he could judge it wasn’t a happy sigh. “Now I feel even more alone.” 

“Baby,” Wonwoo murmured, his tone matching your sad one. “We only have a week left, you won’t even notice when I’ll be back.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

And if you hurt me That's okay, baby, only words bleed Inside these pages, you just hold me And I won't ever let you go

“You said you’d be home!” 

This wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go, not at all. You had been planning this date for a while now - it wasn’t anything big, just a homemade dinner and a movie, but any moment spent together was special for you, so it didn’t really matter what you did. And what could be better than to prepare a nice meal together and then eat it cuddled under fluffy blankets, while watching a bad movie you could both make fun of. 

If only Wonwoo’s practice didn’t run late. 

“I’m sorry, but I told you my phone ran out of battery," he said, pointing at his dead phone helplessly. “And we really were busy, baby. You know how the comeback season is,” he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. 

“I know, but if you really cared about me you’d make sure to at least text me. I was waiting for four hours Wonwoo, it’s literally 1 am!” You said, your tone getting angrier and angrier. 

Wonwoo understood why you were angry, he wasn't surprised, but he thought that maybe you would be a little more understanding. On the other hand, he knew how much you were looking forward to this date, he was waiting for it himself, and the fact that he didn't even text you certainly didn't make the situation better. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he tried reaching for your hand, but the second his fingers touched yours you pulled away. 

“You're a bad boyfriend Wonwoo, you ditched me like I was nothing.” 

Your voice was full of venom and Wonwoo couldn't help the slight pain he felt in his chest. Your words when you were angry always hurt him like hell, but he didn't expect to hear something like that. He knew you didn't mean it, of course you didn't - you were angry, tired, hungry, and Wonwoo knew it was pointless to blame you for your words. He loved you too much to do it. 

But before he could say anything, he felt your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I didn’t mean it, I’m so stupid,” you mumbled into his neck. “I love you, I’m sorry,” you kept repeating. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he ran his hand over your arm, cradling the back of your head with the other. “We both messed up a bit, but it’s okay, baby.” 

“I'm just afraid that one day I'll say something stupid enough to make you leave me,” you whispered, as if you were afraid that if you said it a little louder, your words would become true.

"Just hold me, baby, and I promise I'll never let you go."

Now Wonwoo would give anything to hear even the worst insults about him from you. He tilted the glass to his mouth, which turned out to be empty - just like the whiskey bottle he had taken from Mingyu, not that the younger minded. Or maybe he did, but Wonwoo didn't care much. He snorted and put the empty glass on the night table, from which he took a photo framed in a black frame instead.

Your faces were covered with a white face masks and your heads were adorned with pink cat headbands, and even though you were definitely too close to the camera, to the point where the photo was blurry and unclear, Wonwoo could still see your wide smile perfectly. 

It was from the date Wonwoo surprised you with a few days after your failed one. It was one of the best nights of his life.

Oh, you can fit me Inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen Next to your heartbeat where I should be Keep it deep within your soul

“You know my ex boyfriend got me this, right?” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking at him sceptically.

“Baby, you were sixteen then,” Wonwoo flicked your nose. "I will not be jealous of your great love at the age of sixteen."

You muttered something under your breath, frowning at him adorably. “If you want, I can buy you a new one,” he said, pointing to your necklace.

“No,” you muttered, not looking at him. Cute. "I like it."

"Exactly, so stop whining and let me put the picture in," he couldn't help but smile as he looked at the photo of himself in your necklace, resting right above your heart.

“You picked out the worst picture of me there is, I hate you,” you groaned, hitting your head against his chest.

“Well, I love it, and that’s what matters. Now,” Wonwoo grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles. "I’ll always be with you."

When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me Under the lamppost back on Sixth street Hearing you whisper through the phone "Wait for me to come home"

Wonwoo looked around his bedroom with droopy eyes (was it from crying, alcohol or tiredness he didn't know), which less than three weeks ago was full of life - full of you. 

The knowledge that he would never see you again weighed on him like a stone on his heart, but even so - Wonwoo didn’t want to forget you, no matter how much it hurt. He wasn't even sure he could even if he wanted to, you were present in every corner of this room - your pillow still smelled of your perfume, there were your skincare products on his desk, which you never kept in the bathroom for some reason, and your sweater was still lying on the back of the chair in the corner because you were too lazy to put it in the wardrobe. 

Wonwoo grabbed his phone with a trembling hand, its screen lighting up and displaying a wallpaper with a photo of you that he took right before he left for the tour. You were in bed, your hair messy and dishevelled, your eyes still closed and your lips in a sweet pout - you didn't even know he took the photo, but Wonwoo couldn't help himself. 

"Won, you said you'd wake me up," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow and duvet that covered almost your entire head.

“But you're not sleeping,” he said quietly with a smile, brushing strands of hair from your face.

You murmured something, pulling the covers over your head. Wonwoo couldn't help but laugh at your silly antics - he loved how clingy you got whenever he had to leave early in the mornings, you were like a cuddly teddy bear that wanted all the hugs in the world. “You know what I mean. I wanted to help you get ready to leave,” you complained from under the covers.

"I love you, baby, and I love it when you help me, but right now I'd much rather have you get some sleep."

“But I'm going to miss you,” you groaned, poking your head out from under the covers.

“It's only a week and a half,” he said and kissed your forehead gently.

Unconsciously, Wonwoo raised his fingers to his lips. Was that really your last kiss?

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, running a hand over his face. There was one more thing he had left of you - your voicemails. With a shaky finger he pressed on the last voicemail you sent him, a day before he broke up with you. The second he heard your voice it was like he magically sobered up - his mind was clear as day, and it immediately took him back in time to when the only thing he looked forward to was coming home to you. 

"Hi baby, I know you’re sleeping already, but I just wanted to record a little message, so you have something nice to wake up to. These first few days apart are so hard, I really miss you, especially at night. I got so used to our little bedtime routine that the house feels so quiet and empty without you, like something is missing, you know? You’re going to call me a hypocrite, but you know what else I’m missing right now? The light from your computer when you game late at night and I can’t sleep because of it. Or how I have to beg for you to come to bed for at least two hours, before you finally do. (laugh). I really do miss your bed hair, though. Now with them being so long too, you look so cute. (laugh)."

"But you know, last night, and don’t make fun of me, but I had to put on your hoodie to sleep because I missed your smell, I thought about the first time you left for tour since we got together. I remember how you walked me home after our date because it was late, and you were so adorably awkward. You still are. Anyways, we stood under that lamppost right by my house, and we were talking for a bit, and I remember how sad I was that you had to leave. I know you were too but didn’t want to show it, my strong baby. And then you kissed me. (pause) I will always remember how you kissed me under that lamppost. And how you said “wait for me to come home”. "

"I’ll always wait for you, Wonwoo. No matter what."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo

[bvidzsoo]

Under the pretense (1)

The second installment of Popular boys? Overrated ♡

❝𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.❞

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

🎭Warning: cursing, very slight mention of being suicidal 🎭Word count: 6.2k 🎭Genre: humor, cliché themes, 90's rom-com vibes; University!au; Popular guy!au; Sport!au; Enemies to Lovers!au 🎭Rating: nc-17 🎭Summary: What was supposed to be the best time of your life turned into something more bizarre and only slightly fun. Don't get me wrong, having to share your theater class out of the blue with popular guy Jeong Yunho, to most, didn't sound like the worst idea, but to you...yeah, you would've been more grateful if the principal found other methods of punishment for her son's misbehavior.

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I present you the start of Yunho and our MC's story, I hope it caught your attention and you'll stick around for the next two parts. You can also check out Seonghwa's, which happens in the same universe, it's in the series m.list. The taglist is open, so just lmk in whose part you'd like to be tagged. I made a visual board and playlist for the series, so check them out as I still update them! ^^ Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought of this part, I love reading your feedback! divider

Taglist: @anxiousskylar @philijack @alienvibecheck @yunhosfairy

♡ Series M.list ♡

꧁༺ Visual Board ༻꧂

♫ Playlist ♫

            I had always been a dreamer, a child with big sparkling eyes, eager to discover the world and its wonders. My parents had always considered me naïve and way too kind, but I found life easier to navigate if I remained humble and kind to those around me. I was not too fond of loud spaces and huge crowds, I would much rather prefer smaller circles where everyone came together to spend their time in silence. That’s how I discovered my elementary school’s reading club. I had been young and disoriented after a strenuous P.E. class when walking down the hallway, pushed into a door by two bigger boys as they chased each other down the hallway. The door I was slammed into wasn’t closed, so I very ungraciously fell inside a classroom in which five people sat in a circle, in silence, with books in their hands and candy on the round table. Eyes fell onto me, mostly surprised, and I blushed as I sputtered my apologies, embarrassed and wanting to hide away as I had disturbed their peace, but my curiosity got the better of me. The teacher in the room made sure I was fine and asked whether I wanted to join them when she noticed me staring longingly at the book in her hands. I didn’t say no to her.

And really, that’s how my love for literature and theatre sparked, evolving into a passion by the time I reached my high school graduation. I knew what I wanted to be, I knew what I had to do next. I had been a theatre kid my whole life, so when my mother rushed inside my room one cool summer evening with my acceptance letter in her hands, I knew my life would change in the next few seconds. Allston Hall University, the dream institution of every student who wishes to become someone important and useful in the near future. I was one of those students, tears streaming down my cheeks due to happiness when my mother read the letter, informing me that I had been accepted and was even the student with the highest grade currently. It was a dream come true, everything I have worked for, my aspirations and hard work were tangible, and I finally felt like I could release the breath of air that’s been constricting my lungs ever since I sent in my application. I was rushing towards the future I wanted, the one I had been dreaming of.

But all good things had a downside to them. Allston Hall University was huge, the biggest in our county, and it harboured various majors and many people, to the point you’d have to watch your every step in the hallways to avoid crashing into anyone. My first day, and week, had been nerve-wracking. People were loud and friendly, sometimes too friendly, to the point I felt uncomfortable in their presence and had to excuse myself to take a moment of solitude. Despite being a theatre kid myself, I felt like the odd one in my circle of people, the one that didn’t fully belong, the one that was a bit different. Everyone around me was outgoing and boisterous, eager to be heard, and even more eager to make more friends. I was quiet and curious, but I liked watching people from the sidelines, assessing a situation from afar before jumping into anything. I liked to meet new people, but I struggled to find common ground with them. I never had many friends growing up, most were surface-level, but the one true friend I did have decided to move counties and start working, instead of following an academic path. There was nothing wrong with that, but our time was limited together and she rarely visited, our friendship has transformed into a long-distance one.

But, to my utmost surprise, I didn’t stay friendless at this huge university for too long. As an extracurricular, I have picked up a Visual Arts class since I have been always interested in it. The class was small and filled with people who dressed better than in any fashion magazine I had seen, all of them having a peculiar aura that I seemed to enjoy a lot. And, to my surprise, they were more like me than my own colleagues. They were quiet, mostly sticking to themselves with big headphones on as they bobbed their heads to the music, briefly greeting you once you entered the classroom. They were mostly art majors, but they didn’t make me feel bad for not being one. A passion was a passion, and they didn’t make fun of you for loving what you loved. However, even here, it seemed that there was someone who wasn’t like the others, someone who was loud and energetic, always laughing and joking with students and professors alike. She was like a happy virus, her happy disposition contagious, and without realizing it at first, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was because we were complete opposites, unlike my closest friend who thought and viewed the world similarly to me, but with Wendy everything seemed to feel like a new experience.

I couldn’t tell when it happened when the two of us became best friends, but it’s been a year since and we were almost inseparable. Wendy loved spending her free time with me, humming to herself and drawing while I wrote sonnets and read through the next play we’d be going through or even performing with Mrs. Jeong. Wendy felt like a fresh breeze, ready to yank me away from my monotonous days, eager to experience something new. I hated amusement parks, but I went to one with her and had the fun of my life, having never screamed or laughed as much as that afternoon. Wendy couldn’t skate, but one snowy evening, I took her to the skating ring and taught her how to find her balance, and through baby steps, she became even better than me. Wendy loved visual arts but she never understood the charm of a book, a play, or a poem, so I brought her along to the reading club I had been frequenting since my freshman year in high school, and it was an unforgettable experience for the both of us, but Wendy concluded that perhaps literature just wasn’t for her. Much similar to my experience, when I let her drag me to Allston Hall’s first baseball game of the year, all excited and giddy to see her favourite players, only for me to conclude at the end of the game that the sport held no interesting elements for me to find likeable or enjoyable, baseball just wasn’t invented for me.

So yes, Wendy and I were opposite sides of the same coin, eager to learn more and discover the world through our own lenses while dragging the other after ourselves. This would explain why we were currently decked out at the bleachers, sitting at the lowest spot as Wendy’s eyes followed the boys while they played a friendly game and warmed up for their very soon upcoming game. Wendy was athletic and loved to get in a good morning run, which she usually did outside the bleachers to catch a peek of when the boys would go in to exercise. It was embarrassing at first, to walk in every second day with her and have the boys gawking at us, but now it was plainly amusing to see Wendy fall over herself whenever one of them acknowledged her. Her father had been a player in a smaller league, so Wendy grew up in the sport, hence her immense love for it. She was convinced the boys on the University’s team were undiscovered gems and she made sure to stick around them until one of them finally asked her out. She thought I didn’t know, but it was rather obvious that her eyes were set on Byun Baekhyun, the biggest trickster on the team with a notorious grip that could send any batter into a spiral when he’d pitch—these were Wendy’s words, not mine.

I continued flipping through the shortened version of Pride and Prejudice as we would soon do a small audition to see who got which role. Mrs. Jeong wanted to do something special and new this year, so there have been added elements to the play—ones that would send Jane Austen into an existential crisis, in my opinion, but Mrs. Jeong likes to think out of the box and considers herself an innovative person—which I agree with, but the play would’ve been best without the modifications done to it. Wendy, sitting in front of me as I had taken the bench between my legs, hunched over my play, sighed dreamily and tapped her fingers against her chin. She was usually a very loud person, but surprisingly she knew when to remain silent, when to give me space and tranquillity to be able to enjoy my reading time. Her short hair stuck to her nape as she decided to run an extra lap this morning, on the verge of hyperventilating when she finally ran inside the arena, spotting me easily as I was the only person in the bleachers while the boys did their warm-ups. Her bag was with me and I knew she refrained from sprawling out on the ground just because Baekhyun was watching her, so I handed her the water bottle with an amused smile. Wendy took it with gratitude and sprinkled some on her face and neck before she took a small sip, chest still heaving from her run.

“That was very sexy of you,” I said with a chuckle as she settled next to me, trying to regulate her breaths as she caught Baekhyun’s eyes, cheeks flushing even deeper as he waved in our direction. Wendy fumbled with her water bottle for a second, then eagerly waved back and pushed my thigh with her elbow to acknowledge Baekhyun as well. I flashed him a smile and gave him a curt nod, which he returned before the coach blew his whistle and called out his name to get him to focus again.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Wendy mumbled, grabbing her towel out of her bag, “my throat was parched and my brain felt like it was overheating.”

“When will you stop finding ways to kill yourself?” I raised an eyebrow and Wendy gave me a look of confusion.

“I’m just pushing my limits, nothing you have to worry about.” Wendy shrugged, taking a sip of her water again, “You know I’m training for the marathon.”

“Right, I almost forgot.” I fixed Wendy with a stare, rather unimpressed as it was impossible to forget that she was training for next month’s marathon. She speaks of it daily, around the same time after she finishes her run and complains about being on the verge of passing out, I’m sure there are other ways of training yourself for a marathon that don’t involve putting too much pressure on yourself and sending your body into despair as it clings to life—a bit dramatic, but that’s what being a theatre kid made of me.

This was half an hour ago, and now Wendy had completely settled down as she was leaned back on her hands, gazing out onto the field as I blocked out the sound of a bat hitting the ball every few minutes, enraptured by the play as I imagined Mr. Darcy standing in front of me, thick eyebrows furrowed and eyes shining with confusion as Miss Elizabeth—me—tells him that he cannot disrespect her whole family and look down on her, and then expect her to fall to her knees and accept his affections. The language was a lot more modern than the one Jane Austen had used, this is where Mrs. Jeong’s crafting comes into play and makes me cringe as Elizabeth is supposed to tell Mr. Darcy that ‘she won’t throw herself at him like every other bitch’, I just knew Jane Austen was rolling in her grave at the atrocity that’s been done to her masterpiece. I could try and convince Mrs. Jeong to modify that part, hopefully, as she’s rather keen on me due to how seriously I take her classes. Cheers erupted on the field and they increased in volume as Wendy gasped next to me, holding her hands together as she was on the verge of shooting up from her seat. The boys were merely training, yet Wendy treated it like a real game every time she got the chance.

“Oh, that’s a home run—” Wendy’s voice was strained, and she sprang up from her spot as the whole team exclaimed, making me lose my train of thought as I couldn’t focus in loud surroundings, “Seungkwan just hit a home run!”

I looked out towards the field as the boys crowded around Seungkwan, forming a circle as they made howling sounds and jumped around, making Seungkwan cackle loudly as he basked in the attention. He was a rather uptight guy, but out on the field, he was simply amazing although he’s never managed to hit a home run until now.

“Oh, this is amazing,” Wendy mused, her eyes sparkling as she clapped away, showing the boys thumbs-up as they turned our way to bow, pushing Seungkwan to the front as he grinned widely, “They’ll ace the next game, Y/N, I can feel it deep in my bones.”

I chuckled but said nothing as I knew this meant a lot to Wendy, and only grabbed her arm to make her sit down when the coach threw her an irritated look. They couldn’t kick us out because we weren’t doing anything illegal or interrupting their training, but I knew the coach wasn’t too fond of two girls always lingering around the bleachers to distract his boys. Not that it was our attention, but I have caught them busy ogling us instead of doing their warm-ups. Wendy was buzzing as she sat down, chewing her bottom lip before she started chewing her nails, making me grip her wrist to stop her as I knew she did it subconsciously. She gave me a grateful smile and I turned back to my play as the boys had calmed down too, going back to their friendly game.

“Do you want to stay for longer?” I asked as I flipped to the next page, eyebrows furrowing as it was Mr. Darcy’s monologue that wasn’t in the original work, “I think I could make use of a coffee right now.”

“Can’t we stay for another fifteen minutes at least?” Wendy asked with a pout, her sparkly eyes widening as I gave her an unimpressed look, “Yunho is up for pitching right now and then it’s Baekhyun again, I promise we can leave once he’s done.”

I sighed but knew I wouldn’t drag my best friend away before she got to watch Baekhyun pitch again, so I just nodded and threw a quick glance at the field. Indeed, player number 04 was up for pitching, Jeong Yunho. His name didn’t leave a distaste in my mouth as I, thankfully, had never had to interact with him, but it was inevitable to know who he was with how huge his reputation had gotten over the last year. We started out at university at the same time, he’s been a baseball player since he was just a child, and he was rising in the ranks rather quickly. He was amazing, even as someone who still didn’t understand how baseball worked, I knew he was good at what he did and he was often praised for his skills. He was the best pitcher the team had—the university has had for ages, at least based on the coach’s words—and he carried himself like a successful athlete would, always smiling brightly with his warm eyes twinkling with mischief-ridden in them.

Sure, Jeong Yunho had a warm and perceiving aura, friendly and even kind, but even those couldn’t stop the rumours spreading of him being a heartthrob. Better said, he was a womanizer. He appeared to be this soft and puppy type of guy, sweeping girls off their feet with his acts of service and soft-spoken nature, but just as quickly as he wrapped them around his fingers, he dropped them without his ‘kind’ smile breaking from his lips, eyes even teary when he told them that he just wasn’t right for them, that they deserved someone better. Behind his innocent mask lay a man who enjoyed playing with others and using them to his liking with a deceiving smile and excuses that didn’t make sense upon another thought. But many girls didn’t care about the rumours, they thought they were simply fake because certainly the sweet and kind Jeong Yunho couldn’t be like that, not with them at least. And that is exactly how they go their hearts broken by the most sought out playboy of our university, from the baseball team at least. The soccer team was even worse, you’d never hear the end of how cool and mysterious Park Seonghwa was. Personally, I preferred my peace of mind and stayed away from both.

I heard the bat collide against the ball with a loud bang, and I could tell it was a strong hit as the boys ‘oohed’, but Wendy just gasped, stiffening in her seat. I paid it no mind as she reacted to every single thing the players did, living in the moment and giving her all to the game—even if just friendly. But some exclaimed alarmed and tried to warn us—or me—of something, but I was too busy ignoring them as my irritation levels were rising. I just really wanted a cup of coffee and silence to be able to finish reading the play before my class later today.

“Y/N!” Wendy’s shrill exclamation made my head snap up, taking in her wide eyes as she gesticulated, only confusing me more. Turning my head to the right, to see what got the boys reacting like that as well, my own eyes widened into saucers when I realized a white small ball was hurling at my face rather quickly. I knew I could dodge it, it wasn’t too late yet, but I felt blindsided as I stared at it, accepting the fact that it would either break my nose or give me a black eye. But someone was moving on the field, had been for a few seconds now, running full speed towards me and the ball. And before it could collide against my face and ruin it, a black glove was in my face, so close that if I puckered my lips, it would’ve touched the fabric. My heart was beating fast and I stared up at the person who caught the ball with wide eyes, exhaling loudly as Wendy yelped and shot up from her seat again.

For a second, it was completely silent, even the coach stood staring at us with an open mouth, whistle threatening to fall from it, but the boys on the field suddenly started howling once again, yelling and calling out my ‘saviour’s’ name. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as his cheeks were rosy from the bite of frost of the morning air, but also from having pitched for the last few minutes. I could feel my own cheeks tinge red from the adrenaline and also from the way the guy’s warm chocolate eyes seemed to melt into mine. Yunho looked pleased that he managed to catch the ball, and his fingers closed around it as he lowered his hand and leaned down a little. My back was rigid as I couldn’t help but blink at him wordlessly, gripping the play tightly in my hands.

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows furrowed more, and his face was ridden with worry as he searched for eye contact. I gulped and averted my eyes, exhaling shakily.

“Yes,” I took a tentative glance at Yunho and cleared my throat, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” My eyebrows furrowed as he looked apologetic, biting his bottom lip which was cherry red and plump, “I positioned my arm wrong and I was distracted when I pitched, I almost hurt you.”

“Oh, uhm,” I stared at him for a few seconds as I felt Wendy sit back down and subtly nudge my arm, “It’s fine, you managed to catch it so—good job?”

Yunho chuckled, and I was taken aback by how high-pitched it sounded and how warm his tone was, cheeks puffy and rosy, and definitely giving him this sweet and innocent aura, “Glad to be your saviour despite putting you in harm's way myself.”

I hummed as I found myself lost for words, all the acting classes I had taken flying out the window. There was something about his gaze that made me feel small, made me forget how to articulate my words, “Best if it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Yunho chuckled and I felt embarrassed, but he didn’t look like he meant bad, he seemed simply amused. I was sure he could tell I was flustered and that only made me feel more embarrassed, “Right, I’ll try to keep my eyes off you next time then, focus more on pitching.”

Wendy gasped next to me as I just stared at Yunho dumbfounded, trying not to let my confusion show at the sudden change of events. Well, I was under the impression nobody paid me any mind as I never really paid them any mind, I was here for Wendy and it was pretty obvious.

“Are you reading a play by any chance?” Yunho asked as he looked down at my lap, and I cleared my throat, feeling hesitant as I nodded my head.

“Yeah, Pride and—”

“Pride and Prejudice,” He smiled sweetly, his eyes hidden by his baseball cap, “my favourite.”

I knew Wendy wanted to scream and jump up and down, but she was doing a good job of remaining put and silent. For some reason, Yunho didn’t pass me as the person who would pick up a book, let alone a play, to read, so I just gave him a tight smile and an unimpressed look. I had heard the rumours, and I was sure they were true, I didn’t want to fall for his schemes.

“Right.” My tone was a bit sharp and I knew it took him off guard because his eyebrows twitched, “Aren’t you supposed to be pitching?”

And as if the coach had heard my words, he blew his whistle loudly and shouted, “Jeong, get back on the field!”

Yunho bit his lower lip and grabbed his cap as he nodded his head, winking at me before he was jogging back onto the field, making me grimace. Wendy’s eyebrows were raised and she had a suggestive smile on her face, but I just sighed and shook my head, deciding that I wanted to have coffee now, “We both know he sleeps with every girl and then dumps them right after, so before you get even started, I’m not interested in him at all.”

“But he’s so handsome and tall.” Wendy sighed dreamily and I chuckled, standing up.

“There are plenty of tall and handsome guys at our university, I’ll find myself a decent one, thank you very much.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get my coffee.”

“But Baekhyun hadn’t pitched yet.”

I chuckled as Wendy whined, rooted to her place as I got off the bench.

“Meet me at the coffee shop then, I have class in an hour so don’t stay for long.”

“I love you! Save me a seat by the window!”

I chuckled and nodded, waving Wendy off as she focused on the game again, eyes wide and attentive. I kept to the side of the field so that I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and walked quickly so that I could be out of the arena swiftly, without angering the coach. Wonwoo, who was the left fielder, threw me a quick smile and I waved at him as I passed by, feeling eyes on the back of my head. I didn’t turn around to check who it was as the coach had spotted me and narrowed his eyes at me. I bowed my head and then slipped out of the arena, less stressed and happier now that I was about to get my caffeine fill of the day.

             The rest of my day had gone well, and I was more than excited to attend my last class of the day, drama class. We’d hold the rest of our courses at the small theatre of the University as Mrs. Jeong wanted us to focus on the upcoming play only, assignments already handed out as our final grade now depended on finishing it on time and also delivering our best in the play, the two grades turning into our final score. I happily skipped down the stairs of the theatre and greeted a few of my colleagues as I settled not too far from the front rows, somewhere in the middle of the row. I liked sitting by myself so that nobody could distract me while Mrs. Jeong gave us advice and coached us on how to deliver the lines, when to put emotion in it and just how much of it. I placed my coat on the chair on my right and left my backpack on the floor as I leaned down to unzip it and grab the play, my yellow notebook, a black pen and a green marker. I heard the door of the theatre close and open loudly, then running down the stairs and shuffling as I straightened up, trying to organize my things in my lap as I waited for Mrs. Jeong to show up.

To my surprise, there was movement on my left and I looked over, curious of who decided to sit right next to me when there were numerous empty seats in the theatre, only to find Jeong Yunho staring back at me with a surprised expression similar to mine on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hey I know you, hi!”

Yunho and I spoke at the same time as I heard the girls sitting a few rows in the back behind us whisper and giggle to each other. Yunho flushed as he pushed his leather jacket off his wide shoulders and settled quietly in the seat next to mine. I continued staring at him with confusion as his legs spread out wide, his head turning to face me.

“You’re the girl from this morning,” Yunho said as he disregarded my question, “I actually see you around the field often, do you like baseball?”

“No.” I deadpanned and Yunho’s enthusiasm died out at once, smiling unsure, “My friend loves baseball so I tag along with her sometimes.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Yunho’s smile became more confident as his eyes took in my features, making me feel a bit uncomfortable, “And how are you?”

“I’m—fine.” I still didn’t understand what he was doing here, but I wasn’t about to be rude to him, “And you?”

Yunho’s smile widened into a grin, and he threw a short glance behind us when the girls started giggling louder, “Rather good knowing you’re here too. Why are you here?”

I tried to refrain from sighing at his not-so-subtle flirting and occupied my hands as I grabbed my marker and fiddled with it, “I’m a drama major, Yunho.”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a small fraction, cheeks flushing, “Oh, that sounds lovely, I—sorry, I’m just taken aback that you know my name.”

I didn’t mean to glare at him, but he was bad at playing the abashed and shy boy persona, perhaps a few acting courses wouldn’t do him bad, “You’re on the baseball team and I have gone to almost every game of yours, so I think it’s only natural I know everyone’s name on the team, no?” I didn’t let him answer me as I gave him a scrutinizing look, “Besides, you’re quite famous for breaking the hearts of the girls you go out with, right?”

Now, I could tell he was actually flustered as he averted his eyes, biting his bottom lip as the flush from his cheeks spread to his ears too. Yunho’s dark hair was messy and wavy, and he wore his glasses now. The black turtleneck made him look comfy and safe, his dark jeans complementing his long legs nicely.

“Ah, those are just rumours, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” He rubbed his nape and looked back at me, “I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

I sighed and thought about whether I should tell him, but it was only right since I knew his name and didn’t want to look like a prick, “It’s Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He grinned widely and extended his hand to shake, “I’m Yunho, but you know that already.”

I hummed and took his hand, a little surprised by how long his fingers were and how much bigger his palm was, it made me blush as I carefully pulled my hand out of his, busying myself with my marker, “So, what are you doing here? It’s a bit weird seeing a sports major here, you know.”

Yunho groaned and I glanced at him to see him rubbing his forehead, “Don’t even tell me about it, it’s completely against my will, if I’m being honest. Not that I hate the theatre or anything, but I’d be much rather doing something else.”

“Well, you can just get up and walk out before the professor comes, you know,” I suggested, nodding my head towards the exit, but Yunho had a solemn look on his face. He let his hands fall in his lap as he intertwined his fingers.

“Actually, I can’t.” He pouted, and I tried not to think of him as a manchild, it wasn’t very appealing, “You see, I might have done something that was against the rules, and this is basically my punishment if I don’t want to lose my scholarship, or worse, get kicked out. I mean, my career would be ruined before I even had the chance to start it, you know?”

I nodded, pretty much on board with what he was saying, “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, it sucks but I still don’t understand why drama class out of all classes they could’ve punished you with.”

“Ugh, right?! Don’t even get me started on it,” Yunho rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses as he licked his lips, turning his body to face mine, “Like, the principal is totally crazy for placing me in this class! I don’t know why she thought a little play-pretending would fix my attitude—her words, not mine—but it certainly won’t. Like, whatever I did wasn’t even that serious, it’s the fact that the stupid professor can’t take a joke, I didn’t even sleep with his daughter!”

So, this is who the real Jeong Yunho was, unfiltered, and apparently, not as perfect and charming as everyone thought him to be. I chuckled, amused that he’d have to suffer through our drama classes because I knew the outsiders always viewed us as crazy whenever they stumbled through the doors of the theatre, “And how long until your punishment is over?”

“This whole semester, can you believe it?” Yunho sounded annoyed, but his face remained void of any annoyance as he slumped in his chair, looking defeated, “I swear to God, the principal was high on some shit when she threatened to throw me out if I didn’t heed her orders. It’s like—I know she’s my mother but we’re at school, for fuck’s sake! Like—this is university, she can’t punish me like I’m some sort of five-year-old, no?!”

I covered my mouth to try and hide my amusement at his outburst, which got other students chuckling. I meant to answer him, but a rather loud scoff coming from the first row caught everyone’s attention as suddenly they stood, whirling around, hands on their hips. My amusement died down as my eyes widened, staring at Mrs. Jeong in surprise, I didn’t know she was there, I thought she was running late.

“Oh, really, young man?” Her sharp eyes narrowed, and I watched from the corner of my eyes as Yunho’s own widened, mouth falling open, “You think you’re here because I believed whatever that professor accused you of? No, you’re here because you promised me you’d stop fooling around, yet here we are!”

“Mom?” Yunho seemed pale as Mrs. Jeong glared him down, he turned to me with a desperate look on his face, “What’s she doing here?!”

He whisper-shouted as Mrs. Jeong scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. I felt a bit awkward and put on the spot as I nodded in acknowledgement at her, then faced her son, “Mrs. Jeong is the head of our department.”

Yunho’s eyes widened comically and I chuckled as I bit my lower lip, “Uhm, did you not know that your mother is the head of the drama club and department?”

“No!” Yunho whisper-shouted and eyed his mother, who had started to grin in contentment. I could see the resemblance in the two as I looked between the mother and son, their smiles were the same and their cheeks were puffy and almost always rosy. Mrs. Jeong was a lovely and compassionate woman, it sometimes made me wonder why Yunho had such little respect for women when his mother must’ve raised him right.

“If you’re done parading yourself, son, I’d like to start my class, thank you very much.” Mrs. Jeong raised her eyebrows and Yunho grumbled something under his breath as he slipped lower in his chair.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jeong.” He avoided eye contact with his mother and Mrs. Jeong smiled in victory, eyes taking in the place as she counted how many there were of us. I smiled at her when her eyes fell on me and she returned it, clapping her hands once she was done.

“Good, I see more of you joined us—I didn’t count my son in—I hope you’re all ready to rehearse for the play before the auditions, and I’m more than eager to help you all out. Today, I’d like to highlight some of the culminant points of the play and discuss the acting techniques they should be delivered with.” Mrs. Jeong intertwined her hands behind her back and nodded before she went to grab her own copy of the play. Yunho looked helpless as he glanced around the room, sighing long as he peered down at my lap over my shoulder.

“Uh, can you share yours with me?” He grumbled, not so smiley anymore, “I didn’t know what we’d be doing today, I’ll bring my play for the next class.”

“Just this once,” I said with a pointed look and put my copy of the play between us, “I don’t like to share and I like to sit alone, just so you know in the future.”

“All alone?” Yunho asked curiously, “Don’t you like sharing?”

“I like my peace of mind and quiet.” I answered, raising my eyebrows at him, “And I really like to be left alone, Yunho, so don’t try to distract me.”

“Okay,” He whispered as he flipped through the pages, making me give him a small glare, “I’ll be silent, but don’t expect me to survive this whole semester if you ignore me the whole time.”

“Go make friends, I’m sure the girls behind us are more than eager to sit with you,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes, and Yunho grinned as he leaned slightly closer.

“Is that a hint of jealousy—”

“Mr. Jeong,” Mrs. Jeong snapped and we both looked at her alarmed, she was frowning at her son, “Leave Miss Lee alone, yes? Or I’ll make sure to fail you in this class—”

“But mom!” Yunho whined, sitting up straight as he leaned forward, “You can’t do that, I’m not even registered for this class!”

“Really?” Mrs. Jeong chuckled, “Aren’t you?”

“You did not.”

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

Yunho’s mouth fell open in shock, and I had to turn my head to hide my silent laugh as Yunho turned into a whining manchild once again, “You will behave in my class, young man, and you’ll let Miss Lee be, understood?”

“Understood, Mrs. Jeong.” Yunho grumbled under his breath and looked down, a grimace on his face as he muttered something to himself, “I can’t even skip class now, for fuck’s sake.”

A laugh slipped through as I gave Yunho another amused smile and then grabbed my marker, way too amused by how things were turning out to be. Yunho didn’t look too amused but Mrs. Jeong did, and she spoke up with a smile on her face, asking us to flip to the thirteenth page of our play.

I could only hope Jeong Yunho, the Casanova, wouldn’t ruin one of my favourite classes for me.

❱❱ Next act

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[syluslnd]

Hey It is me again !! I’m embarrassed about requesting a lot from you but I really adore ur writing , so can I request a writing where the mc is trying to surprise sylus with something nice to show her love as he always the one who does these stuff for her , with the help of the twins and they just try to make it happen without sylus noticing WHICH IS PAIN

AGAIN THANKFUL FOR UR EXISTENCE

trying to surprise sylus gone wrong

(note-this was so much fun to write so I really hope I did it accordingly to what you had in mind !! omg that’s such a beautiful compliment thank YOU for your existence I hope you’ve had an amazing week so far love !! kisses xx)

────୨ৎ────

You were pacing back and forth in Sylus’ room, chewing on your nails as you nervously glanced at the clock. Sylus was supposed to be home any minute and you still hadn’t finished setting up the gift. The twins, Luke and Kieran were both rummaging through Sylus’ belongings, looking for the final touches to add to the surprise.

“This is not how I planned this” you muttered under your breath, feeling the anxiety rise.

Luke, balancing on one foot as he attempted to place a bow on the gift box, grinned widely “Relax! It’s gonna be great! Sylus won’t know what hit him!”

Kieran, who had found a random pair of Sylus’ sunglasses, put them on and struck a pose “Yeah, it’s like we’re secret agents! He’ll never suspect a thing!” He gave you a thumbs-up, as if the situation wasn’t spiraling into chaos.

You glanced at both of them, exasperated. “He’s going to immediately know. Do you know how freakishly observant he is? He notices when I move a pillow on the couch and you’re in here wearing his sunglasses!”

Kieran froze, then slowly took them off, a sheepish grin on his face. “Uh, yeah. That might’ve been a little too much.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Your heart jumped into your throat. “Oh no, he’s almost here! Quick, everyone hide the stuff!” You darted around the room, tripping over a chair leg in your frantic attempt to finish the setup.

Luke snickered “You’re gonna trip over yourself before the surprise even starts.”

“Not helpful, Luke!” you hissed, shoving the ribbon back into the box, trying to make everything look somewhat presentable. “I just wanted it to be perfect for once…”

Kieran poked you lightly in the side, smirking. “Perfect’s overrated. It’s cute when you’re a little frazzled.”

Before you could retort, the door clicked open.

Sylus stood in the doorway, his stoic face betraying nothing but there was a glint in his eyes. “What are you three doing in my room?” His voice was calm, but you could hear the teasing laced underneath.

You froze, heart pounding, your face flushing. “We… um… we weren’t… doing anything weird!” you stammered.

Luke tried to suppress a snort while Kieran casually leaned against the dresser, nodding as if this were totally normal. “Yeah, just, uh, hanging out. Right?”

Sylus’ eyebrow quirked as he took a slow, deliberate step inside, his gaze sweeping the room—taking in every little misplaced object, the half-hidden gift box, and your overly nervous posture. “Is that so?” His voice was so neutral, it was almost maddening.

You shifted awkwardly, wringing your hands together. “Yep! Absolutely nothing… weird…”

His lips curled ever so slightly, eyes sharp as he looked at the three of you. “Then why are you sweating, sweetie?”

Your eyes widened as you sputtered. “I’m not sweating!”

Luke, ever the unhelpful one, leaned in and whispered loudly “You are kinda sweating.”

Kieran snickered, and Sylus, in his usual deadpan way, continued “Uh-huh and here I thought you were up to something… secret.”

You felt like melting into the floor. “We’re not—I mean, we are but not bad secret stuff! Good secret stuff!”

Sylus took another step closer, folding his arms. “Good secret stuff? In my room? With Luke and Kieran, who look guilty as hell?”

“Hey!” Kieran protested with a grin, “That’s just my face.”

Sylus ignored him, his gaze settling back on you, his amusement barely hidden. “So, should I be worried, kitten?”

The way he said “kitten” sent a wave of heat to your face. You desperately wanted to say something cool, but all that came out was a helpless squeak.

Sylus’ expression softened, though the teasing never left his eyes. He finally glanced at the hidden gift box, almost like he was acknowledging its presence without giving it away. “Strange. I feel like something’s missing in here. Maybe I should have a look around…”

You panicked, stepping in front of the gift box. “No! Don’t look!”

He chuckled under his breath, that deep, rich sound that always managed to get under your skin. “Why not? What could possibly be in here that I’m not allowed to see?”

Luke and Kieran both held their breath, clearly enjoying the tension. You could feel their grins behind you.

Sylus leaned down slightly, peering at you from beneath his lashes. “Unless… you’re surprising me with something?”

You groaned, realizing there was no way you were pulling this off. “How did you even know? I didn’t say anything! You were supposed to be surprised!”

He straightened, tilting his head in that infuriatingly calm way. “Sweetie, you’ve been flustered all day and you let them help” he motioned toward Luke and Kieran who were pretending to act innocent “so I had my suspicions.”

Your shoulders sagged in defeat. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Sylus’ teasing expression softened further his hand reaching out to cup your cheek gently. “I appreciate it, kitten. You don’t have to try so hard. You being here… that’s enough of a gift for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your face flushing even more as his words sank in. “S-Sylus…”

He smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Now, how about we see what you’ve been hiding?”

[xxtc-96xx]

What are your Pokémon hot takes? (If this question hasn't been asked before)

I think charizard is over-hated instead of overrated

I think Diamond and Pearl are the real overrated generation games and BDSP made people mad because they don’t want to acknowledge that through nostalgia goggles and should have been demanding a platinum remake if they wanted it so badly

Gen Fivers are becoming the new “genwunners” with how much they claim it’s the best games despite hating them when they came out. Kalos needed the attention more because it only had two games getting shoved out the door while Black and White had four games and the ScVi second DLC being in Unova. I’ve also never seen an actual “genwunner” in the wild and only see people bitch about them lol

I like Pokemon Horizons and the new protagonists, I’m glad Ash was retired because they were running dry on ideas with him. Pokemon fans are never satisfied with how much they complained about Ash being around for 20 years but the moment he leaves they cry and whine about wanting Ash back

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 25: Love Language

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Love Language (🌼)

Summary: Matt's love language is touch.

Warnings: Fluff, love language, not proofread.

Word Count: 687

A/n: I do believe Matt Murdock shows his love through touch a lot, but also through all his other senses. I'm just focusing on one in this fic.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

Matt’s love language is touch.

It’s not because he doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you—he does. He tells you before you’re even awake, before he leaves for work, during work, and before bed. He utters those three times almost more than you do because he is scared if he doesn’t you might slip away, but that is also why he touches you so gently every time he’s close to you. 

Every morning, he traces the features of your face from your temples to your chin until you wake up. He kisses your temple when you’re busy making coffee, brushes his hand over your lower back when you’re brushing your teeth, or getting dressed for the day and he just happens to have to brush past you. 

He kisses you goodbye three times, one kiss for every word in ‘I love you’. And when he comes home, he kisses you once, but he doesn’t stop for a whole minute because he just needs to taste you after having been apart from you for so long. 

You can feel his love through his fleeting touches, the way he holds you close to his chest when you can’t sleep, and how he lays his head on your chest when he’s had a rough day because you are his only reprieve from the bustling of the city. You are his saving grace. When he touches you, even just for a second, he forgets the world.

So, when he tells you, “I love you,” on his way out the door and you answer with, “I know,” you mean it in the most literal sense of the word.

You know he loves you because he never fails to show you. 

You know he loves you because he will never let you forget it. 

He might never be able to give you peace, but peace, in your opinion, is overrated. He keeps your brittle heart warm. He keeps you safe. He would die for you, that much you know.

He has proven time and time again how much you mean to him, and yet he never feels it’s quite enough. He never feels like he is enough for you. Not good enough. Not pure enough. Not easy enough or safe enough. 

“As long as I’m part of your life,” he’d said once, “you’re always gonna be in danger, and one day, I might not be able to stop you from getting hurt.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” you’d told him.

“No, it would. You deserve better. So much better.”

But you only took his hand in yours, intertwined your fingers, and said, “I deserve you.”

If he lost you, Matt wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Having one more person he loves die in his arms would kill him. He would fall to his knees then and beg God to take him, too. He would beg the earth to open up and take him to hell because he is sure he has sinned enough to make it straight to the fiery pits of hell. 

His sins can not be forgiven, no matter how much he prays. You know he thinks like that more often than he cares to admit, and even when you try to tell him how good he is, he refuses to listen.

Loving you is his penance. 

Telling you how much he loves you is not enough, so he has to show it some other way. He has to work to earn it, he thinks, so he does. He will love you until his heart is bleeding on the floor—until he has sacrificed his very soul to you. Only then will he be worthy of redemption.

He’s utterly broken, but you wouldn’t stick around if you didn’t think he’s worth it. You can help him. You can take his hand and tell him time and time again that he is enough, and you will do so until he finally believes you.

Whether it takes two years or two lifetimes, you don’t care. You will never tire of trying because, to you, Matt Murdock is more than enough.

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[lizzyiii]

Our boy Aemond is he gonna turn for our baby Mikaelson? ❤️✨

girrlllll chileeee, you're getting too ahead of the story😝

His Lady Love (11)

pairing | aemond x vampire!mikaelson!reader taglist | to be added to the tag list just add your username to this DOC word count | 5.5k words summary | you finally reveal the truth of your existence to Aemond and Helaena, sharing the painful memories of your immortal life as the youngest mikaelson sibling and original vampire. Through tears and anguish, you expose your family's curse—eternal life without hope—and the deep scars it has left on your soul, as you recount memories of betrayal, loss, and survival.. tags | ANGST, ANGST, oh and more ANGST. klaus mikaelson??? violent death, blood and gore, lowkey mental and emotional abuse, subtle depression. note | actually kind of love this chapter, I just love writing klaus in general. he's just so interesting, but I do think he's too overrated and done some really horrific things but people overlook that because of his charismatic and charming personality

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

Aemond’s patience was a testament to the gravity of the moment, granting you the decency of privacy as you prepared to bare your soul. He remained in your solar, yet, even in the solace of solitude, you found yourself stalling, prolonging the inevitable.

You sank into the warmth of the bath, the fragrant water enveloping you like a gentle embrace. Each splash seemed to wash away not just the grime of the day before but the weight of your secrets, if only for a fleeting moment.

Emerging from the bath, you took your time, each gesture deliberate, each action a shield to stave off what awaited. You braided your hair intricately, each twist and weave a quiet reflection of the centuries that had passed, and you chose a gown—simple, yet elegant.

You stood before the mirror, your fingers trembling as they traced the delicate embroidery of the white gown that fell gracefully over your form. It was simple yet beautiful, much like the veneer you had worn for centuries. The gown’s gold embroidery caught the flickering sunlight, glimmering like the sun.

With a deep breath, you clasped the necklace around your neck, the Mikaelson emblem resting between your breasts like a lingering reminder of your lineage and the power that came with it.

Finally, with resolve steadying your heart, you pushed open the door to your solar. The scent of Aemond lingered in the air—earthy, faintly reminiscent of the dragonrider’s presence, grounding and yet intoxicating.

There he stood, framed by the soft, dappled sunlight that filtered through the window, his silhouette carved sharply against the room’s shadows. His one eye, always so piercing, was fixed on you—curiosity flickering within the cool violet depths, but also something darker, apprehension, perhaps even doubt.

“Are you ready?” His voice was low, steady, though an undercurrent of urgency rippled through it, enough to set your heart racing.

You swallowed, nodded, and then hesitated, your gaze shifting away from his for a brief moment before returning to him. "Helaena... she needs to be present as well."

Aemond’s brow furrowed, confusion lining his features as he studied your expression. “Why?” he asked, his voice measured but edged with impatience.

You let out a soft sigh, pursing your lips as you answered, “She’s already seen... *what* I am. Or at least, part of it.” You took a steadying breath. "When I killed those men to save Jaehaerys. She saw me—saw what I can become. She just doesn’t know the whole truth yet."

Aemond’s gaze darkened with understanding, though there was a glint of surprise in his eye. “And she just reacted to that without fear?” he asked, voice tinged with disbelief, though he kept it soft.

You shrugged, feeling the weight of the awkwardness that had settled between the two of you ever since you revealed your true nature. Every interaction since then seemed unnatural, almost fragile.

"I suppose it was the shock of almost losing Jaehaerys," you admitted. "She was too focused on him to question anything else. But now... I owe her the truth as well."

Aemond let out another sigh, his gaze distant as if struggling with words left unspoken. You turned your face away, uncertainty swirling in your chest. But then, to your absolute surprise, his hand reached out to you, a gesture that felt both unexpected and intimate.

Without hesitation, you accepted it, your fingers intertwining with his, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His grip was firm, steady, grounding you in the moment as he began to lead you out of your chambers.

You followed without question, walking silently beside him, the gravity of what was to come weighing heavy between you.

He led you through the winding halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, his steps purposeful as the weight of the upcoming confrontation hung in the air. Finally, you reached the Queen's chambers.

Inside, you immediately caught sight of Alicent and Helaena seated together, quietly conversing on a chaise. The soft murmur of their conversation died the moment you and Aemond crossed the threshold.

Alicent’s sharp, perceptive gaze shifted to Aemond first, a flicker of suspicion and curiosity passing across her features. You could see the unease in her eyes, sensing that something important was amiss.

Aemond, however, made no effort to meet his mother's gaze, deliberately avoiding her presence as though she weren’t there. His silence spoke volumes, but Alicent’s focus quickly shifted to you.

Her brown eyes softened, and with a graceful rise from her seat, she approached you. Aemond's hand slipped from yours as you stepped forward to greet her.

"Queen Mother," you greeted, bowing your head slightly, unsure of how this moment would unfold.

To your surprise, Alicent did not remain distant or reserved. Instead, she moved swiftly toward you, wrapping you in a tight, unexpected embrace.

Her arms felt warm, maternal, and for a brief moment, the weight of your secrets and the danger surrounding you seemed to dissipate in the warmth of her embrace. She leaned in, her voice a soft whisper in your ear.

"I am so glad you are safe, sweet girl," she murmured, her tone filled with genuine relief. "The crown offers its deepest gratitude for returning Jaehaerys to us, alive and unharmed."

Her words stirred something deep within you—gratitude, perhaps, or the unfamiliar comfort of being seen as more than just what you were. You stiffened slightly in her embrace, though part of you longed to melt into it.

"Thank you, Your Grace," you whispered, your voice faltering as the emotions of the moment swirled around you. Alicent’s embrace felt almost too warm, too human, for someone like you—a creature cursed with an eternity of isolation.

But the sound of a throat clearing broke the brief moment of tenderness. You and Alicent quickly parted, your attention drawn to Aemond, whose eye was fixed on you with a simmering impatience. He stood tall, his presence commanding and unyielding, barely sparing his mother a glance.

"Mother," Aemond said, his voice cutting through the air like the blade of Dark Sister itself, "I need to speak with the Queen in private."

Alicent’s brow furrowed at his words, the slight tension between mother and son palpable. She opened her mouth, perhaps to question or protest, but something in Aemond’s gaze silenced her.

He was resolved, and Alicent, wise enough not to provoke him further, merely pressed her lips into a thin line. Her gaze shifted between you, Helaena, and Aemond, weighing the gravity of the situation, before she nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"Of course, Aemond," Alicent finally said, her voice gentle but tinged with concern. She gave you one final look—filled with questions she would not yet ask—before turning to leave.

She paused only briefly by Helaena’s side, offering her daughter a reassuring touch, then swept from the room, her presence lingering even after the door had closed behind her.

The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. Aemond, still standing with that unyielding presence, took a step closer, the intensity in his gaze impossible to ignore.

Helaena’s gaze, usually serene and distant, was now clouded with confusion. She glanced between you and Aemond, sensing that the weight of what you were about to reveal was far greater than she’d anticipated. Yet, she remained silent, waiting, her hands folded neatly in her lap, as if bracing herself for the truth.

Aemond’s presence, on the other hand, was far more commanding. He stood tall, casting a sharp glance at the maids and ladies in waiting, who quickly scurried out of the room under the silent weight of his glare.

It was only when the door closed behind them, leaving just the three of you in the chamber, that the tension in the room thickened.

You swallowed, steadying yourself before speaking. "Helaena," you began, your voice calm but edged with the gravity of the moment, "do you remember the night I left with Jaehaerys?"

Her delicate features twisted slightly as she recalled the night in question, a memory clearly etched into her heart. Her voice, usually soft and melodic, was now laced with sorrow. "You saved my children… from the rats."

Rats. That was how she had chosen to remember Blood and Cheese—the two men who had threatened her family’s life. A kinder word for the monsters they truly were.

"Do you remember how?" you asked carefully, watching her reaction, feeling the weight of Aemond's unwavering gaze on you.

Helaena frowned as she spoke again, her words as innocent as they were brutal. "You tore the first man’s throat with your teeth… and you commanded the other to stab himself."

The room grew colder with the silence that followed. Aemond’s eye had darkened, his expression a mix of astonishment and curiosity. You could feel him piecing together what had happened, what you had kept from him for so long.

You nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth of Helaena's words. "Yes," you confirmed, your voice barely above a whisper. "That was me. What you saw… was only a glimpse of what I truly am."

Helaena blinked, her gaze softening with understanding, though confusion still lingered in her eyes. "But how?" she whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

You turned your attention to Aemond then, meeting his gaze directly, feeling the intensity of his scrutiny. His silence was louder than words, and his curiosity sharper than any blade.

"In the beginning, our family was human, five centuries ago now," you began, your voice steady despite the tremor running through your heart.

"Though our mother dabbled in the dark arts, we were mostly a family like any other, trying to survive in a time when survival was far from guaranteed." A faint smile ghosted your lips, though it did not reach your eyes. "And for a time, we were happy."

A heavy silence fell over the room as you turned away from Helaena and Aemond, your gaze drifting to the shadows cast by the flickering sunlight. Helaena rested on her chaise, her eyes wide with curiosity, while Aemond remained at the center of the room, his stance rigid, every muscle poised in anticipation.

"But that happiness," you continued, your tone darkening, "was shattered one night. My younger brother, Hendrik, was killed. Slain by the very creatures who ruled our village’s nights—men who could transform into wolves under the full moon."

Aemond’s eye narrowed slightly, his attention sharp, but he did not speak. Helaena, sitting quietly, clutched her hands together, her gaze never leaving you as you spoke.

"Our family was devastated," you said, your voice cracking as you recalled the memory of your brother’s death. "You see, before I was even born, my parents had already known such pain. They had lost their first daughter, Freya, to a fever one harsh winter. My mother, shattered by grief, vowed she would never lose another child. So, when Hendrik was taken from us, our father forced her to act. He demanded she call upon the darkest of magics to protect us from ever falling prey again."

You paused, letting the weight of those words sink in. "Thus, the first vampires were born," you whispered. "But with this strength, this speed, this immortality, came a curse. A hunger."

"A hunger for what?" Helaena’s voice was soft, laced with the innocent curiosity she often carried, though now tinged with something darker—fear.

You met her gaze, your own eyes hard with the truth you could no longer conceal. "For blood," you answered, the word hanging in the air like a blade waiting to fall.

"We do not require food or water, those are indulgences. Pleasures we once took for granted, now rendered meaningless. What we need to sustain ourselves… is blood. Without it, we wither. We decay, like corpses left to rot in the ground."

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Helaena’s face paled, her fingers trembling slightly as she absorbed your words. Aemond’s expression remained unreadable, though the flicker in his eye betrayed the internal storm he was wrestling with.

You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to continue, knowing that this truth was just the beginning. "The blood lust consumes us if we let it. My family, we learned how to control it, how to live among humans without succumbing to the beast within. But it is always there, lurking beneath the surface."

The silence in the room felt suffocating, pressing down on you like a weight too heavy to bear. Desperate to break the tension, you spoke before your thoughts could catch up to your words. "I could show you," you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond blinked, his singular eye narrowing in intrigue as he stepped closer, his presence commanding. "Show us? How?" His tone was measured, but you could hear the underlying curiosity—perhaps even a touch of suspicion.

"Through my memories," you replied softly. "One of my many gifts." You could feel the energy pulsing in your fingertips as you spoke, the ancient magic within you stirring. "It’s the only way for you to truly understand." You gestured for him to take a seat beside Helaena, who looked between the two of you with wide, expectant eyes.

Aemond hesitated for only a moment before following your instruction, settling beside his sister. His sharp gaze never left you, as if he was weighing every move you made, every word you spoke.

You stood before them, inhaling deeply as you focused your mind, your fingers lightly brushing their temples. The magic flowed, ancient and powerful, as you called upon the memory you intended to share.

The scene that unfolded was vivid, like stepping into a dream. The air was filled with laughter and song, the night lit by the glow of bonfires and candles as your village celebrated one of its strange but joyous holidays.

You had been so naïve then, your heart unburdened, the grief of Hendrik's death momentarily forgotten. You could feel the warmth of the night, the joy in the air as you twirled around the fire, Finn’s laughter ringing out as he spun you in a carefree dance.

The memory shifted—your joy dimming as you realized how late it had grown. You had stayed out far past your curfew, long after your family had returned home.

Panic clawed at your chest as you hurried through the darkened streets, the vibrant festival fading behind you as you made your way toward your family’s hut. The village that had felt so alive only moments before now seemed eerily quiet, shadows stretching long across the ground.

You moved without caution, without thought, only the mounting dread driving you forward as you rushed into the hut. What you saw froze your blood in your veins—a massacre.

You guided Aemond and Helaena deeper into the memory, forcing them to see, to feel what you had felt. The dread, the growing realization that something was terribly wrong.

You could feel Aemond stiffen beneath your touch, but he didn’t pull away, his curiosity holding him still. Helaena’s breath quickened, her hand instinctively reaching for your wrist as the memory unfolded.

Everywhere you looked, blood painted the walls and floors, the very scent of it thick and suffocating. The bodies of your siblings lay strewn about, lifeless, their blood seeping into the ground. A scream tore from your throat, raw and filled with the kind of anguish only centuries could numb.

Your eyes immediately found Niklaus, lying in a pool of his own blood. His eyes were closed, and a deep wound marred his chest. You dropped to your knees beside him, shaking his shoulders, your hands slipping against his blood-soaked skin. "Niklaus, wake up!" you sobbed, desperate, unwilling to accept what your eyes were telling you.

But Niklaus didn’t stir. None of them did. Elijah, Rebekah, Finn, Kol—they all lay broken and still.

More cries racked your body, your voice hoarse from screaming as you knelt among the fallen, each heartbeat filling you with an unbearable grief. Then, a sound from behind—a voice, cold and venomous, cutting through the chaos like a blade.

"You know not how long I've waited for this moment."

Your blood ran colder than before. Slowly, you turned, your heart pounding as your gaze fell upon the figure in the doorway. Your father, Mikael, stood bathed in the blood of his children, his face twisted in cruel satisfaction. His sword dripped with the very essence of your kin, your family.

Before you could even draw breath, his sword flashed, and a sharp, searing pain pierced your chest. You gasped, a choked sound escaping your lips as you stumbled back, the life draining from you.

Your knees buckled beneath you as you collapsed beside Niklaus, your body growing cold. The strength seeped from your limbs as darkness edged in from the corners of your vision.

Mikael’s cold gaze remained fixed on you, watching as your life slipped away. Your final breath left your lips in a shudder, your hand still reaching for Niklaus, but he remained still.

The memory surged forth, a vivid nightmare that felt all too close, even after all the years that had passed. It was a dark night, mere weeks since your transformation, and chaos reigned in the village.

The villagers, fueled by fear and anger, sought to rid themselves of you and your siblings after the bloodshed that had followed your awakening—a bloodlust you had barely begun to comprehend.

Finn and Kol had already made their escape. Finn’s voice had been urgent, his grip firm on your arm as he implored you to join him.

But you had begged him to stay, to help your family escape together. Yet his resolve had faltered, and he had slipped away into the night, leaving you behind in a whirlwind of dread and desperation.

Elijah and Rebekah were frantically packing the remnants of their lives, their expressions strained with urgency. You could feel the weight of fear suffocating the air around you, a heavy tension that made your heart race.

The deep-seated hatred your father held for you and Niklaus loomed over you like a storm cloud, threatening to break at any moment. It was a hatred that could ignite into violence without warning, and you knew it.

Your heart raced as you realized it was up to Niklaus to persuade your mother to flee with you. You paced, the flickering fire casting shadows that danced on the ground, mirroring the turmoil within you.

Then, at last, Niklaus entered your line of sight. He stepped through the trees, and the world around you came to a halt. There was something unsettling about him; his usual bravado was replaced by an unsettling vulnerability. His hands trembled slightly, fingers clenched at his sides as though they held the weight of the world.

"Niklaus," you asked, worry knotting in your stomach as you approached him, gently cupping his hands in yours. "What’s happened? Where’s Mother?"

His terrified blue eyes met yours, glistening with unshed tears. He shook his head, and dread filled the air between you. "She’s dead."

Time seemed to freeze, the world around you fading into a blur. You blinked, disbelief clouding your mind. "What?"

"I—" He swallowed hard, anguish etched on his features. "Father—he—he killed her."

The words crashed over you like a wave, cold and suffocating. Tears welled in your eyes as the harsh reality settled into your bones. "No. No! This can’t be!"

You turned away, desperation flooding your veins as you intended to return home, to your mother. But before you could move, Niklaus’s arms encircled your waist, holding you tightly against his chest. "You cannot go back!"

"Let me go, Niklaus!" you yelled, anguish spilling forth in choked sobs. "Mama! Mama!"

The name echoed in the forest, each cry a plea, each scream an invocation. You expected her to appear, to sweep you up into her embrace and assure you that everything would be alright. But the silence that followed was deafening, a stark reminder of the void she left behind.

You broke down in Niklaus's arms, the weight of your grief crashing over you like a tide. He held you tight, rocking you gently as if you were still a child. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the ache in your heart and the overwhelming emptiness that threatened to swallow you whole.

"A glooming peace this morning brings; the sun, for sorrow, will not show his head," you recited softly, your voice echoing in the dim light of the crypt. The words from the latest play felt heavier in the air, reflecting the turmoil that had once engulfed England.

"Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; some shall be pardoned, and some punished. For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

Your gaze drifted down to Finn, lying in that same accursed casket, the familiar silver dagger lodged deep in his chest. Time had moved on, and yet here you were, five hundred years later, still shackled by the past.

Your family had relocated to Denmark, leaving the ruins of England behind, but the pain of loss clung to you like a shroud. Finn remained as he was, forever caught in that moment, forever untouched by the passing centuries.

Elijah had gifted you the latest work from an emerging playwright, a man named William Shakespeare, with the hope that it would bring you some joy.

You had thought it fitting to share the story with Finn while he lay in eternal slumber, believing that perhaps the beauty of words might bridge the chasm between the living and the dead.

As you reached the poignant conclusion, tears brimmed in your eyes, the heart-wrenching tale resonating within your very soul.

You closed the book gently, feeling the weight of both grief and longing. Your heart ached not just for the characters but for the brother you had lost to a fate more cruel than death.

“That was quite sad, was it not?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked at Finn's serene face, still and undisturbed. "Even in the depths of darkness, love remains, yet it always seems to come at a terrible cost."

You ran your fingers gently over the spine of the book, as if the words could somehow transcend the veil of death and reach him. “I wish you were awake to truly enjoy this story with me,” you murmured, your voice barely breaking the silence of the mausoleum.

A sudden idea ignited in your mind, flickering like a candle in the dark. When you and your family had moved to a sprawling mansion in the lush countryside of Denmark, you had insisted on a grand mausoleum to be built for Finn.

It was a sanctuary for you and a place where Finn could rest peacefully, far removed from the grim dungeons of England that Niklaus had left him in.

Your gaze wandered to the entrance of the crypt, the heavy stone door that concealed the world outside. Then your eyes fell on the dagger lodged in Finn’s heart, its silver glinting in the dim light.

Perhaps? If only for a fleeting moment? The thought pulsed through you like a heartbeat, urging you onward.

As your hands glided over the hard wood of his coffin, they trailed down to Finn’s body, gently caressing his dark hair. You could almost feel the warmth of him again, a reminder of the brother you had lost.

Your heart raced, anticipation mingled with trepidation, as you finally wrapped your fingers around the silver dagger.

In that heartbeat, you paused, caught in the gravity of your decision. Then, with a deep breath, you began to pull it from his chest, the air heavy with unspoken consequences.

“What are you doing!”

The sharp voice sliced through the quiet, causing your hand to jerk away from the dagger and fly to your heart. You turned to find Niklaus standing in the doorway, a gift box clutched in his hands, yet his expression was thunderous, dark clouds gathering in his stormy blue eyes.

You shook your head rapidly, feeling your hands tremble with uncertainty. “Nothing, Nik, I promise.”

In the blink of an eye, Niklaus was in front of you, his speed making him appear like a shadow, silent and swift. The gift he had been holding now lay discarded on the cold stone floor.

His grip tightened around your arms, painfully firm, causing a pained whisper to escape your lips. His gaze bore into yours, filled with a tempest of betrayal and fury as he hissed, “Do not lie to me, sister.”

The weight of his anger made your heart race, and you winced as tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the sight of his hardened expression.

“I-I just thought Finn had been asleep long enough,” you stammered, your voice trembling, trying to explain while knowing there was no real justification that would soothe him.

His grip only tightened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. “So you betray me like this?” The raw accusation in his tone stung worse than his hold on you.

“No, Nik, never,” you whimpered, your voice fragile as you shook your head again. “Please, you're hurting me.”

But Niklaus seemed deaf to your plea, his rage drowning out your words. His grip tightened even more, and his voice rose with a venomous edge. “You forget he is daggered because of you! I did this for you!"

“I know, Nik,” you murmured softly, wincing as the pain in your arms deepened, both from his hold and the weight of his words.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” Niklaus bellowed, his frustration clear as his voice echoed through the room, “Why can you not see that Finn would never do the same? He would never go to such lengths to keep you safe!”

Tears spilled freely from your eyes as you turned your gaze away from him, the overwhelming guilt pressing down on your chest. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking under the strain of his fury.

His words pierced through you like a dagger, each one sharp with betrayal and hurt. “I’ve protected you,” he continued, his voice cracking with emotion, “I’ve killed for you, sacrificed everything, and still, you go behind my back!”

Sobs overtook you, your entire body trembling as the weight of his anger and your guilt suffocated you. “Niklaus, please,” you begged, your voice barely a whisper, your heart aching with the knowledge of how deeply you had wounded him.

At that moment, his rage faltered, and his piercing gaze locked onto yours. The room seemed to still as his next words fell like a chilling curse, low and filled with a cruel finality. “I should put a dagger in your heart.”

A sob tore from your throat as you shook your head, pleading with silent desperation. Just as you thought his fury would turn violent, the tension snapped.

Niklaus was suddenly knocked aside, and you found yourself enveloped in warm, protective arms. Elijah. His presence was steadying, his voice calm but commanding as he faced his volatile brother. “Niklaus! You are scaring her.”

“She should be scared!" Niklaus roared, pointing an accusing finger toward you, his fury still burning brightly. You buried your face deeper into Elijah's chest, seeking refuge from the storm that was your brother’s wrath. “Does she not understand? If Finn were awake, we’d have been put down by Mikael long ago!”

Tears streamed down your face as you clung to Elijah, your voice breaking under the weight of your guilt. "I'm sorry, Nik. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—”

Niklaus’ breathing was ragged, his rage simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to explode. But Elijah remained calm, his hold on you firm.

“Niklaus, leave,” Elijah said, his voice quiet yet authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

Niklaus inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering between you and Elijah, his anger barely contained. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur. “You forget yourself, sister.”

His words cut deep, filled with cold warning. “Finn remains daggered for a reason. Do not mistake my love for you as permission to defy me.”

With that, he stormed out, his presence leaving a void as heavy as the tension still lingering in the air. The silence that followed was suffocating, and in its wake, your emotions broke free.

You collapsed into Elijah’s arms, your sobs shaking your body, the words tumbling from your lips in a fevered rush. “I didn’t mean to, Elijah. I swear, I didn’t mean to. Please, don't let him dagger me.”

Elijah held you close, his touch gentle as he caressed your head, whispering soothingly into your ear. “I won't, sweet sister,” he murmured, his voice a balm to your frightened heart. “I give you my word.”

The next morning, you woke with a dull ache in your chest, the familiar weight of sadness pressing down on you like an old wound that never healed.

The grand four-poster bed, with its silk curtains and velvet drapes, felt like a prison—beautiful, but suffocating. You turned over, pulling the heavy covers tighter around yourself, but the pain lingered, gnawing at your heart.

It always ached. That deep, unshakable sorrow had taken root long ago, twisting itself around your soul. You wondered, in those quiet, lonely moments, if you were going mad.

The only thing tethering you to sanity, to something real, was Elijah—his steady presence, his unwavering devotion. Without him, you feared you might fall apart completely.

As you shifted, your gaze caught something on the edge of the bed that made your breath catch in your throat. There, resting on the quilt, was the same gift box Niklaus had held the night before. Slowly, cautiously, you reached out, bringing it onto your lap as if it might break or vanish in your hands.

The lid opened with a soft creak, revealing a small, velvet jewelry case. Your heart stuttered as you lifted the lid, and tears welled in your eyes. Inside was a simple silver pendant, its surface gleaming faintly in the morning light. Encrusted in the center was an ornate "M" for Mikaelson.

Niklaus always did this. After the rage, after the terrifying outbursts, after he screamed at you and made you feel small—he would leave an apology gift, never speaking a word of the pain he caused.

It was his way. He never asked for forgiveness. He just assumed you would give it, time and time again.

And you did.

Every single time.

Your fingers trembled as you lifted the pendant from the case, letting the cool metal slide through your hands. With a resigned sigh, you fastened it around your neck, the chain resting against your skin like a silent promise. It was beautiful, yes, but it was also a reminder of the cycle you could never escape.

As the pendant settled against your chest, you wiped away the tears that threatened to spill over, whispering to yourself, “He did not mean it.” You had said it so many times before, hoping that if you repeated it enough, you might actually believe it.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

Niklaus loved you. In his own broken, twisted way, he loved you and your siblings more than anything. But his love was a storm—wild, uncontrollable, and dangerous. And every time you forgave him, you found yourself standing in the eye of that storm, waiting for it to rage again.

Slowly, you pulled yourself back to the present, forcing Helaena and Aemond from the depths of your memories as you stepped away. Your breath came in ragged gasps, and your trembling hands wiped the dampness from your cheeks. You had lived lifetimes hiding this pain, but tonight it had clawed its way out.

Helaena’s face was pale, her own tears mirroring yours. She trembled, wide-eyed, as if the weight of your confession threatened to break her. And Aemond... Aemond’s single eye bore into you with a mix of disbelief and something deeper, something far more devastating.

He stared at you as if you were a ghost, a shadow of the person he thought he knew. For the first time, it seemed, he truly saw you—broken and damaged in ways that not even centuries could mend.

You forced a tight, bitter smile, the words catching in your throat as you truly introduced yourself, "I am the youngest child of the original witch, Esther Mikaelson. My siblings and I are the first of our kind—vampires born from blood and magic. We are the strongest creatures in this world, and yet..." Your voice wavered, betraying the sorrow that clung to every word, "we are damaged beyond repair."

You looked between them, your eyes hollow, carrying the weight of endless centuries of pain. "We live without hope, but we will never die. We are the definition of 'cursed'."

The room fell silent, a heavy, oppressive stillness that mirrored the truth of your existence. You swallowed hard, repeating the words that had once been a promise but had long since turned to chains, the mantra that bound you and your siblings to each other.

"Always and forever."

Reader's Wardrobe

(she's wearing the middle dress in this chapter)

those who couldn't be tagged are in bold :(

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