#dosie angst

[defmaybe]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

Purple Kiss’ Jang Eunseong/Dosie x Male Reader

1.3k words

Song: Gracie Abrams - I Love You, I’m Sorry

See also: Rockland

Some warning on a discussion of depression

A/N: Part of @mintwithchoco’s prompt exercise!!! It’s very exposition dump-y so apologies for that. Thanks for reading!

–

You were the best but you were the worst

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first

I was a dick, it is what it is

A habit to kick, the age-old curse

–

The sun glares down onto the street you’re walking on. The buildings don’t help in shielding it in the afternoon. To add, they even reflect the light onto you even more. You want a place to cool down; you need a place to cool down.

You pace yourself through the bustling heart of the city, looking for just a cold whisper, but everywhere just seems to be so eager to burn you down to shreds. The gray skyscrapers stare down at you, adding melancholy to the street even more.

You stride and stride in the hellish heat, until…

It’s predictable: the modern interior, white and brown furniture, just so ready to be snapped and posted on Instagram. You hurry into the cafe, trying to catch the breeze of the hard-working air conditioner as much as possible. In the meantime, you look around for a seat for your iced tea, until you meet an eye in the patrons.

Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s a coincidence, but you just can’t walk away now.

She’s in a light blue blouse and her ripped jeans, hands holding her iced latte. She seems to be working on something on her computer.

Back in college, you failed and failed to find that precious rhythm in engineering. You were far from being a failure, to say, but your social life was dry enough to have her, a medical student who lived miles away, as your closest friend after high school ended. And one day, it fell down. Your closeness induced the dormant codependency within, and she left. It’s the memory you’ve been striving to erase and the mistake you’ve been trying to correct ever since.

It would’ve been easy if you just gave her silence, but there has to be a few dramatic scenes, which include ‘I fucking hate you’ or ‘I can’t say that I love you’. This doesn’t even cover the flurries and flurries of messages yet, up until where she blocked you, and you blocked her.

It’s Jang Eunseong–or sometimes Dosie, the name that has been aching inside you ever since.

Slowly, she reaches forward to get her purse on the opposite chair. She nods while giving you a faint smile.

“Iced Latte, please,” you tell the barista.

Slowly, you walk towards her table, still trying to make sense of the image in front of you.

“Sweetness?” They respond.

Slowly, you sit down in the chair. Its legs creak as you drag it across the floor.

“Low, thanks.”

Slowly, Dosie starts the proper conversation as you sit down, face-to-face with her for the first time in almost a decade.

“So, how are you?”

A forced smile exudes. You think of an answer that’s enough to garner her attention, but not too desperate. “I’m fine.”

Her sudden departure left you so bereft to where medication is involved. Valdoxan, Lorazepam, Rivotril, Fluoxetine, Trazodone, you name it. You were lucky that you have lived to this exact day even.

Darkness loomed over you, thoughts looped, words lamented with trembles. And to say, it was all your fault for making such a promising relationship to the ugly crash by yourself. You inflicted yourself with this pain.

The waiter brings your coffee to you, the same as hers.

“Doing anything?” She wants more than a ‘fine’.

You give in. “I’m a photographer now, modelling stuff, you know.”

“You’ve always wanted to be one, aren’t you?”

“It’s more fun than being a programmer, definitely.”

A small chuckle escapes Dosie.

“How are you, though? No one told me about you all these years,” you brush your rinsing tears away with a question mark.

“I’m-” She pauses and nods, lips curling inward, eyes pointing away for a second. “Fine, really. I just got promoted at my hospital.”

It’s either a doctor or an engineer here—the path to stability. And if the contrast between the path isn’t stark enough. There’s a hatred between you two to separate them even further.

“So you’re becoming the hospital manager, aren’t you?” chuckling, you say.

Dosie laughs, hands failing to cover her mouth. “Not really, haha, still a department’s second-in-command.” The air seems to lighten up, not suppressing your smile anymore.

“Well, good for you.”

“Anyone yet?” She inquires again, eyes focused on you.

“Friend of a friend.” Another fake, faint smile with a truth. “You?”

“Same shift, on and off, really.”

It’s swift, the way it just landed and took off, robbing you of any sentiment you may deserve. You’ve played this moment back and forth for too many times during the years apart. But when it just comes and goes like this, you just wish she’d ask for more.

You continue, “Do you remember–,” you halt.

She forces out a smile, matching your eyes for a split second.

“I mean–no, I shouldn’t do this, I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Hey.” Dosie reaches out to you. “It’s fine. I’m your fri–” 

Dosie stops in her tracks; resolve falters, causing you to look back up at her. Her eyes are searching for the right excuse in the crowd outside.

“I’m sorry.”—you struggle to hold back the tears welling in your eyes—“I don’t think I should do this.”

Your voice is quivering.

Dosie opens her mouth without a sound, an unknown word stuck in her throat, whatever it might be. Maybe it’s lost in the chatter of the patrons; maybe it’s lost in the piano from the speakers; maybe it’s lost in the huffing sounds of the coffee machine.

Maybe it’s lost in herself.

“So,” Dosie finally breaks another chain of tranquil, and herself, unsure, yet they bind themselves back as fast as they were ripped apart. You two fell into another gap.

Maybe it’s best that you just stop here.

“I guess I should go,” you say, without any destination in your mind. You adjust yourself to slide the chair out.

“Wait.” As you step, Dosie stops you with her shaky voice. Your feet are still, one leading the other. You can’t quite make out what she's going to say next: an insult, a question, an apology? They teeter inside your head to decide what you can’t choose.

You turn back to meet her anxious look—lips quiver, latte in the mug she’s holding up to her chin vibrating as she puts it down. 

Thump.

“I’m–,” Dosie turns the gears in her head, seeking the right word in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you’re the one who says it. It can’t be the end here, it can’t be, but at least it might be better than those damned years. You turn back away. “I’m sorry that I didn’t fix myself for you.”

“No, no, no, no,” she climbs the scale with each syllable, hands waving off your guilt. She bends forward, is it to see you closer? “I should’ve been there for you, but I was just-”

You look back, seeing that the composure she has tried to keep during the minutes is crumbling.

“I was selfish,” she says, husk lingering in the statement.

“No, Dosie, it was me,” you respond. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”

“I–,” Dosie stops before another apology comes out, careful on her next words.

“Will I- Will I see you again?” She breaks the train into another question, head tilting, brows furrowing. Her now-hoarse voice is blended with the piano.

“Maybe.”

–

I tend to laugh whenever I’m sad

I stare at the crash, it actually works

Making amends, this shit never ends

I’m wrong again, wrong again

[anundyingfidelity]

OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

[imaginesmai]

Promises to keep - Azriel

You've been happy for too long here is your daily dosis of angst. Part two already written and will be posted in a few days!

Plot: while you are held in a rotten cell, Azriel asks you to promise him something you can't. Because no matter how much he wishes it wasn't true, there was little you wouldn't do for your mate.

Warnings: blood and violence. Kind of graphic.

Azriel had stopped counting the days, the hours stuck on that cell. He had given up around the second week, when he realized losing mental strength over the time wasn’t worthy. Now, the only time keeping him partly sane was the constant drip of water from the corner of the room. When the thoughts were too overwhelming, when the pain wouldn’t let him breath, he focused on the steady drip and tried to drift away.

The cell was cold, almost icy. The clothes he had been wearing when they took him weren’t warm enough – and yet he had given away his jacket, claiming he was fine as he tried to control the chills that rocked his body. It now laid over your body, tucked close to his chest.

It had taken him two days to convince you to take it, and only when you shivered so hard it wouldn’t let any of you sleep, you did.

“Don’t take it off” he begged you when they took him away. “Keep yourself safe”

It had worked so far, because Azriel put enough of a fuss when they approached you that they decided to punish him instead. Other times, it didn’t work, and the jacket came back stained with your blood when they threw you back in.

He felt the first tear of many roll down his cheek, matching the drip of the corner. He tried to keep his body still, not to let you know that he was breaking down again.

But as always, you turned in his arms and caught the tear with the tip of your raw finger. Azriel looked down to your bruised face, that hadn’t healed yet, and his throat constricted around a cry. The soft touch against his own bruises and cuts felt underserving.

“Hey” you whispered, breaking the sinister silence of the cell. Straightening against his hold, you turned so you could face him and held back the groan of pain. “We agreed there would be no tears”

“I know”

It was a silly promise, one neither of you had kept so far.

“I’m okay” you tried to convince him, but your voice was tired, and he knew. “Don’t waste your energy worrying. I’m fine”

“Y/N”

His voice was broken, just like his body. He had always been the strong one, the person who held his ground against torture and pain, who inflicted torture and pain. But with you there, with the life of his mate in the line, he crumbled like a paper boat against the water. Azriel had managed to keep it together for the first two weeks – by the time he stopped counting the time, he had broken down in the night.

If your captors would tell you what they wanted, if they made demands, Azriel knew it would be over for him the moment they put a hand on you. But they hadn’t so far – and that was the worst part. Not knowing what they wanted or why they took you, not being able to consider if the information they wanted was dangerous enough to risk your safeties. He knew he would give them anything by that point.

“They will be coming for us” you repeated like a mantra, over and over again.

Azriel didn’t doubt Rhysand and Cassian were shaking the word to find you, he just doubted they would be able to.

“I need you to promise to never do that again” he started, thinking about the previous hours. “Never, Y/N”

“You know I can’t, baby” the corner of your mouth lifted sadly. “You would have done the same”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t –“ he choked out, the urge of making you understand seeping through his words and body.

“Can’t protect you like you protect me? That’s what you want me to promise?” you cut him off. “To promise you to stay still while they drag you away once more, with those terrible promises?”

“Yes” he hissed, feeling anger, guilt and many other feelings he couldn’t talk about in his chest. “I can handle it. You being hurt? That I can’t do. And they know they can get anything out of me with it. So next time they barge in, please Y/N, please, just… don’t”

“I could ask you the same thing. Would you promise me that, hm?”

That morning, or what Azriel could guess was morning based on the meals they brought, the masked fae had opened the cell before you woke up. Azriel had brushed the sleep fast when he saw them, asking the same questions he had repeated many times before. Who were they, what did they want, where were you, why did they take you. He made demands too, repeated so many times he had learned them by heart. To let you go, to keep him so he could be useful, to have a blanket and more food.

Only silence followed them, and the realization of what they were about to do.

His inner demons, the crumbling fear of his past, had stilled him enough time for you to wake up and come to the same realization. A tall woman carried oil and matches, and a sickening smile on her face. Another fae laughed behind her, deep and masculine, when he saw his face. Before Azriel could finish processing what was happening, you copied his actions from the past. Jumped on the woman who carried the oil, assuring Azriel wouldn’t be the one taken that day.

And no matter how much he had screamed his throat raw, how many fingers he had broken trying to break through the bars, he couldn’t stop it. He would damn those seconds of panic and tightness the rest of his life.

For any answer, Azriel gripped softly your elbow, careful of not moving your burnt hand. The pink skin was raw, the first blisters breaking through.

“I would have preferred them to burn me alive” he confessed, staring at your hands.

“This is not your fault. Any of it”

“Feels a lot like it is” he scoffed, not lifting his eyes. “You need to promise me that. I can’t – if they, if it happens again…”

“Baby, look at me” you begged him, but he didn’t concede. “Az”

Nicknames rolled down your tongue easily, like they had always done. Something about you calling him baby warmed his heart each and every time, the way his name tasted so good on your lips. Azriel squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his face contouring in sorrow. They had broken his leg, pierced his wings, beaten him senseless. Still, the sight of your burnt hands, knowing the similarities with his own, was what broke him.

“I’m sorry” he cried out, shoulders shaking with sobs. “I’m so sorry”

You didn’t answer, only fell against his chest and let him hug you.

The flames licking up your skin hours ago didn’t feel half as bad as hearing Azriel sob. You contained down your own tears, days of torment seeming endless. You were scared, too, mostly for Azriel. Because, since you both had woken up in that cell, he had taken every possible beating and lashing so that they wouldn’t touch you. And you noticed, smelt, the blood on him when he was brought back. Feared the day he wouldn’t wake up.

The faebane in the food you were fed kept the shadows away, but some of his power was still available and circled your ankles. The panic and guilt he felt was palpable through the watered bond, and in the way he pressed against your bruises without noticing.

“We will make it out” you promised him that, or tried to. “They will come. I know”

He only cried in response. Azriel, your tough, brave mate who tortured people for a living, broke in a dark cell that night. He sobbed until his throat was raw and couldn’t mutter any more apologies, cradled your burned hands as if they pained him more than you. He let his broken wings cover you both until you could pretend you were back in Velaris, in your wide bed, hiding from the world.

Dinner was pushed through the bars and you didn’t miss how Azriel held you tighter, even if he knew they wouldn’t come back until the next day.

“Please” he begged once more. “Please, don’t do that again”

The moment you had seen the oil, had guessed their intentions, you were done for. You would have gladly let them burn your whole arms if that meant they would leave Azriel alone. It had hurt, and you didn’t want to think about it, but Azriel was barely hanging by a thread and you would do anything to keep that thread hanging.

When, a few hours later, the cell opened again, you both turned your heads to meet the only male who talked out of your captors. He was tall, ridiculously tall, thin and with long arms that hung loosely. He wasn’t threatening at all, at least he didn’t seem like it. But you intuitively cowered against his presence, and Azriel intuitively hugged you closer.

His onyx eyes were deep pools of nothing, of wisdom and age that had you doubting Rhysand or Cassian would find you. They moved between Azriel and you, earning a growl from the earnest. If he could, you knew he would get up and fight him. Would try, like many other times, to fight his way out. But there was a reason why he had begged you to stay put, why they had the chance to take you.

Azriel’s left shoulder was broken, his arm only twitching and covered in blood. His wings had been ripped to shreds and were healing too slowly. And his legs, sprawled on the ground, had been twisted and sprained too many times.

“You’re losing your charm” he commented, his lip curling in disgust at the sight of Azriel. “I was tempted to think you would be dead by now. One of you”

“Why don’t you come closer and try to kill me yourself?” Azriel hissed, his good arm curled possessively around your waist.

“Oh, I wouldn’t. My friends are doing a mighty job at that”

“And who are your friends?”

It was a common question. When the male had first appeared in the cell, Azriel had bombarded him with questions that had been ignored. But that day, the male looked between you and Azriel, and tilted his head.

“Let’s trade answers, shadowsinger. I will answer your questions as long as you answer mine” he rocked slightly on his feet, the only indication he was curious. “Where does that power come from? What makes you worthy of wielding it?”

“Mine first. Who are you?”

Azriel had been conscious for a long time, considering the things he had gone through. Normally, he lasted conscious enough for you to try and clean his wounds and for him to promise that he was fine. Then, maybe giving his body a day to rest had accelerated his healing process. Still, you felt his attention rapt and alert as the male considered answering or not.

It felt wrong. He could easily pry the answers out of him. Azriel himself had sworn to answer and give anything when you were in their hands. And still, he only pursed his lips.

“I hope you are smart enough to understand that I cannot give you my true name” he smiled apologetically, as if he was truly capable of feeling anything. “But to answer your question, I could say I am someone interested in your powers. Where does it come from?”

“If you want me to talk, you better give me a real answer” Azriel cut back. “You’ve burned my mate’s hands. Beaten her, cut her. Why”

“Because it is funny what love can make out of powerful people” the male looked at you without dropping his smile. “You are powerful enough to kill any of those fae. To break down this place and destroy it from the inside out. But knowing your mate is here too? Love can undermine so much power. May I?”

Azriel’s grunt of pain almost developed in a scream of pain when he stepped on his broken knee. Blood seeped on the ground and bones creaked under his weight. Still, Azriel only threw his head back and bit down his agony, not willing to move away and expose you any further.

The edge of his boot pressed farther on his wound. Proof of how badly hurt Azriel was, was the lack of movement of his foot. His leg had been so brutalized that he couldn’t even move it to step away from danger.

Your heart rose to your throat and you broke another promise you had made to Azriel the first time you woke up in that cell. Don’t show them. Promise me you won’t show them. Let them think I’m the strong one, I’m the one they can’t break. Promise me, darling.

When Azriel lost his breath and his chest stilled from pain, you couldn’t control the sudden urge of power that broke through the room. Without moving from his grasp, that was now painful against your waist, you filled that room with light and threw the man off your mate.

His back hit the wall with a sickening crunch, and if he had been human just like his smell suggested, he would have died. But he didn’t.

He only looked at you with bloody tears on his eyes and dark stains on his ears.

“Oh my! Oh, how wonderful!” the male chuckled. Laughed. His chest trembled with joy as his broken body stared at you from the other side of the room.

You realized that he had been talking about you. About your power, that you had thought was well hidden. You didn’t bother stopping to think how pointless the torments Azriel had endured for its sake had been then, knowing that thought would haunt you back.  

Not using your burned hands for support, you raised by Azriel’s side. The faebane wasn’t enough to keep it hidden, since it wasn’t from this world. It only dulled your senses and dimmed the mate bond. But now that it had been set free, your power roared at you to let it go. To wrack that place to ashes and kill them all.

You stopped yourself when you got on your feet. Azriel, still out of breath, gripped your calf and looked up at you with terror. He knew what they had done to your parents, what they did to your kind. Why you were the only one left, and how precious you were to them. All of that paled in comparison of you being his mate.

You could havoc that place, but your power was destructive enough to risk his life. And that made the light of the room dim.

“You’re – you’re wonderful. I had heard rumors, but this! Look at this!” the man kept talking, but you could only look at Azriel. He begged you silently to run, to use that opportunity to flee. “We’re going to be amazing friends, my darling. The best of friends!”

“Sir?”

Standing next to the open door, three pair of eyes stared at you. Your tormenters looked between the remains of light at the tips of your burnt fingers and their fallen master, who wouldn’t stop smiling. Panic rose like bile when you realized what you had done. What he had done to make you do it.

You had only agreed to Azriel sacrificing himself because you knew if they discovered your powers and how much you cared about him, it would be worse. The sudden burst of power had left you dizzy, yet you were aware enough to notice that the male was healing way too fast. Way too powerful for a normal fae.

He pointed at you with a bloody smile, the onyx on his eyes not leaving any white left.

“Seize her”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

[spacequokka]

Boxed Chocolates

Pairing: Prince!Mark x Queen!Reader Genre: Royalty AU, Fluff with a little angst Rating: PG Summary: Mark brings you those chocolates you like. Word Count: 0.8k Warnings: Minor character death mentioned.

Since your dad had died, nothing had been the same.

You despised it all. The people, the duties, the crown. The way they all carried on, as if losing a loved one wasn’t a big deal. As if you weren’t all alone now. Left to live a miserable life of politics, misogyny, and outrageous expectations. Heavy is the crown, indeed.

A knock on your door pulled you from your journal. “Come in.”

A maid poked her head inside. “I’ve brought the dresses Miss Ella called for.” Oh, right. The fittings for the coronation.

“Bring them in, please.” You put your pen down and pushed away from the desk. “Thank you, Dosie.”

She bowed and pushed the door open, revealing the large rack with an array of fabric. As she pushed it into the room, she added, “And you have a visitor, the prince.”

Anyone else would take offense to being announced like that, as an afterthought, but Dosie understood your feelings about rushing the ceremony. You rose to your feet. “Then I’ll go deal with him first. Pick out a dress to start with, will you?”

The prince, “Just Mark” as he preferred, was a fairly quiet fellow full of mischief and wisdom. Your father had introduced you two shortly before announcing his illness and formally declaring you his successor. The reason was clear as day: you needed someone to help you rule the kingdom. However, Mark had yet to propose. His focus hovered between making sure you were as happy as someone grieving could be and stirring up trouble.

“There you are.” Mark met you halfway as you entered the room, taking your hand and guiding you right back out. “I have treats!”

“What kind of treats?” You wondered, matching his cover whisper.

“Remember when we first met and my parents brought those fancy chocolates with the soft nougat inside?”

Your face lit up. “Yes! They were so delicious.”

“Guess who found out who made them.” He pulled a box from behind his back.

“Mark, you’re a godsend!” You hugged him, excitement bubbling up inside you for the first time since your father’s death.

“I know.” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Now come on, let’s go try them out.”

You followed him out of the castle and down to the gardens, where he had set up a small picnic. There were blankets laid out on the grass, and he had brought a basket filled with sandwiches and fruit.

“I thought we could use some fresh air,” he said as he spread out the blanket. “And some good food, of course.”

You smiled gratefully, sitting down next to him. The sun was just starting to set, casting a warm golden glow over everything. It was peaceful here, away from the chaos of the castle.

You took a sandwich and bit into it, the flavors exploding in your mouth. “This is amazing.”

“I know a good sandwich when I taste one.” Mark winked at you. “So, can I be honest with you?”

You groaned, “No. Not you too.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of a better way to broach the subject.” He picked at the blanket. “They’re pushing me to announce my intentions. I know you’re not ready, and I’ve told them as much, but they won’t shut up about it.”

You took another chocolate. “So, you want me to do something about it?”

He shook his head. “Actually no. I just need your permission to speak for the two of us.” He looked you in the eyes, resolute and firm as he continued speaking, “We’ll marry, but not right away. I want you to have time to heal a little. I intend to relocate here with you and I can assume my duties without you needing to be bothered with anything until you’re ready to.”

“That-that’s actually great.” You swallowed and sat up a little straighter. “I mean, it works for me. Everything’s just so…overwhelming right now. I could use some time to myself.”

He smiled, teeth sparkling in the sunset. “That’s what I was hoping to hear. So,” he dug into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. “Of course, you’ll need this.” He opened it revealing an elaborate ring. “Will you allow me the pleasure of sneaking you away for chocolates and fighting off those pesky councilmen for the rest of my life?” He leaned in with a mischievous grin. “There’ll be lots of troublemaking, I promise.”

Despite the tears threatening to fall, you found yourself laughing. “Oh, thank God. I wouldn’t have you if you didn’t bring the mischief.” You dabbed at your eyes with a smile. “There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”

[mikrokosmcs]

Era  inevitable,  que  las  personas  pudiesen  percibir  también  el  celo  de  Jaesong  y  por  eso  él  debía  demostrar  ser  más  fuerte,  que  nadie  se  atreviese  a  siquiera  pensar  en  tomar  lo  que  era  suyo  o  querer  convencer  a  el  omega  de  estar  con  ellos.  Iseul  tenía  dos  razas  en  él,  una  que  no  era  violenta,  pero  mataba  por  comer  y  la  otra,  enamoradiza  que  amaba  por  toda  la  vida.  -  —No  tendrás  la  atención  de  nadie,  solo  la  mía.  Día  y  noche,  hasta  que  estés  saciado…  —  -se  colorean  sus  mejillas  sutilmente  de  rosado,  un  poco  avergonzado  con  la  idea  de…  bueno,  tener  relaciones  con  él.  No  era  la  primera  vez,  no  sería  la  última,  pero  siempre  conseguía  el  mismo  efecto  en  el  más  alto.  -  —Suenas  muy  interesado  en  tenerme,  lo  cual  por  mucho  tiempo  pensé  que  era  un  poco  imposible  —  -vuelve  a  besarlo,  esta  vez  en  los  labios  antes  de  volver  a  enfocarse  en  la  mesa.  -  —Está�� bien,  todo  irá  bien.  Podemos  cuidarnos,  tomar  supresores  ambos  y  evitarnos  una  sorpresa. 

Su cuerpo se relaja cuando la esencia del más alto le rodea, sintiéndose seguro y protegido del mundo, lo cual era divertido sabiendo que Jaesong le protegió desde que eran pequeños hasta que Iseul regresó de sus vacaciones como alfa, superándolo también en estatura. Sus otros dos amigos solían decir que el híbrido de ardilla siempre miró al alfa con amor, solo que no se percataba de esto. “Sé que es normal pero no me gusta la atención de otras personas, solo quiero la tuya.” Aclara, cerrando los párpados y riéndose con ternura ante las cosquillas que el contrario le provocaba. Dios, ¿Qué hizo para merecer un novio tan dulce y atento Iseul? “Me gustaría, ¿Estarás libre para mí o tienes deberes?” cuestiona, no le gustaba ser una molestia mas anhelaba mucho su compañía y estar acurrucado entre sus brazos la mejor sensación que podía experimentar. “Sueno muy ansioso, ¿Verdad?”

[taeiun]

ᥫ᭡ ?! ┈ ⟢ THE FIGHT OF YOUR LIFE.

💬 ── ⟡ ── “can you maybe NOT beef with the lead singer of a band that has almost double our fan base???”

SYNOPSIS . . . choi beomgyu drove you insane. you hated him and you’re pretty sure he hated you too. but when all that stands between your group and a record deal; one that could make or break everything you’ve worked for; is him and fourteen other bands, you should’ve known it’d be a wild ride to the top. so, tell the crowd, are you truly ready for the fight of your life?

&. status ?! . . . ongoing ; very slow. // started: 02.24.2024 // ended: -

&. who ?! . . . choi beomgyu x gn!reader (ft. the rest of txt, wooyoung of ateez, dosie of purple kiss, yunjin of le sserafim, heeseung of enhypen, skz, and many more)

&. genre ?! . . . battle of the bands au, ex-friends and rivals to lovers, band!au, slow burn (?), fluff, angst, crack/humour, smau, some written

&. warnings ?! . . . swearing, mismanagement of a band by the company, mentions of alcohol + food, botb inaccuracies, scandals, suggestive humour, mentions of false past sexual activity but nothing is described, mentions of death, kys + kms jokes, and potentially more. read the specificed warnings on each chapter.

&. notes ?! . . . timestamps do not matter unless brought up by a character. partially inspired by the webtoon lost in translation. none of the events that happen reflect what the idols are like irl. my humour can be dry at times TwT.

OOO. PROLOGUE / TRAILER — (read first before the profiles)

comment below on THIS post if you’d like to be part of the taglist; asks will be deleted.

chapters and profiles are under the cut.

🪐 ┈ ⟢ PROFILES

PARAVOID aka yn and co. 2MORROW aka beomgyu and co. MISC aka everyone else mildly important

🎞️ ┈ ⟢ EPISODES

ACT I : death of a rockstar

OO1. dead band walking // half written ⟡ OO2. --

OO3. -- ⟡ OO4. --

more to be added

ACT II : stage of revenge

to be added

© taeiun 2024. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim any of my writing as yours.

special thanks to user @junjiie for being my biggest supporter and dealing with my rambles and inconsistent interactions. would’ve probably given up on this plot a long while ago if not for him

[apfelhalm]

Verstehen und verstanden werden

Pia rutscht auf dem Besucherstuhl herum und versucht eine Sitzposition zu finden, bei der das Pochen und Ziehen in ihrem Bein nicht unerträglich ist. Die Schmerzmittel haben sie in den vergangenen Tagen über Wasser gehalten, doch die letzte Dosis ist schon eine Weile her. Leo guckt ihr dabei zu, wie sie sich hin- und herwindet, bis er ihr grinsend eines seiner Kissen hinhält. Pia versucht empört dreinzuschauen, weil sie ihrem lädierten Teamleiter unmöglich etwas von seiner Polsterung wegnehmen kann, aber ... ihr Bein tut wirklich ziemlich weh. Letztendlich seufzt sie ergeben und schiebt sich das Kissen unters Gesäß. Besser. Viel besser.

"Wie geht's dir?" fragt Leo. Sein Nachttischchen ist überladen mit Blumen und Grußkarten und irgendwer hat sogar einen Heliumballon in Tigerform dagelassen. Das schwarz-orange gestreifte Tiergesicht wurde mit der Schnur ans Kopfende des Betts gebunden und schwebt jetzt thronend über ihnen.

"Mir? Wie geht's dir?" wirft Pia entschieden zurück. "Das letzte Mal, als wir uns gesehen haben, warst du noch auf der Intensivstation."

"Sah schlimm aus, oder?" Leo lächelt schief, beinahe verlegen. Sein Zustand ist schon um Welten besser, aber da ist immer noch diese ungesunde Blässe auf seinen eingefallenen Wangen.

"Schlimm ist gar kein Ausdruck."

Wir dachten du wärst tot.

Unwillkürlich muss Pia daran denken, wie sie mit seinem schweren, leblosen Körper über sich aufgewacht ist. Die Schreie. Den Staub, der in ihrer Kehle gebrannt hat. Die Hilflosigkeit. Ein Teil von ihr kann den Gedanken nicht loslassen, dass er vielleicht nicht mehr aufgewacht wäre. Dass sich beinahe ein lieber Freund und Kollege für sie geopfert hätte. Pia hat eine tierische Angst vorm Sterben, aber sie weiß nicht, wie sie damit hätte weiterleben sollen. Es reicht schon, wenn Mara auf ihrem Gewissen lastet.

Sie schluckt einen dicken Kloß hinunter. Zwingt sich zu zurückzulächeln. "Du hast uns einen Riesenschrecken eingejagt."

"War keine Absicht. Dafür geht's mir jetzt schon viel besser. Vielleicht kann ich dich morgen ja auf deinem Zimmer besuchen."

"Nimm's mir nicht übel, aber ich hoffe, dass ich morgen rauskann. Mir fällt hier langsam die Decke auf den Kopf."

Leo zieht eine Augenbraue in die Höhe. "Du weißt aber, dass es für uns beide eine ganze Weile nur Innendienst geben wird?"

Pia zuckt mit den Schultern. Besser als nachts wachzuliegen, weil ihre Gedanken nicht aufhören zu rasen. Besser als dieser kurze Moment der Panik und das Gefühl des Fallens, wenn sie in den Schlaf sinkt. Ganz am Anfang hat sie noch ein Schlafmittel von der Schwester bekommen, aber sie traut sich nicht mehr danach zu fragen. Obwohl niemand außer Adam von dem Ritalin weiß, hat ein irrationaler Teil von ihr Angst, dass sie zu sehr auffällt oder sogar auffliegen könnte. Tja. Scheiße, wenn man ohne Tabletten weder wach sein noch schlafen kann.

Möglicherweise steht ihr ein Teil ihrer Gedanken ins Gesicht geschrieben, denn Leo seufzt leise auf.

"Weißt du, ich dachte, dass du hier im Krankenhaus vielleicht etwas zur Ruhe kommst. Aber du siehst immer noch genauso müde aus. Genauso ... ich weiß auch nicht. Rastlos. Und wenn du entlassen wirst, wirst du da weitermachen, wo du aufgehört hast, oder?" fragt er. Seine Stimme ist ruhig, nicht einmal die Spur von Vorwurf. Nur Sorge.

Natürlich ist es ihm aufgefallen. Er ist ja nicht blind und blöd schon gar nicht, wenn auch manchmal abgelenkt. Dieses Mal hat Pia wohl den Bogen überspannt. Da ist eine nachdenkliche Furche zwischen Leos Augenbrauen, als ob er seine nächsten Worte abwägt. Und dann, wie ein Schlag in die Magengrube, seine nächste Frage.

"Sag mal ... wer ist Mara?"

Pia erstarrt. Ihr Magen macht einen Satz, als hätte sie aus Versehen eine Treppenstufe ausgelassen, und in ihrer Brust breitet sich Kälte aus.

"... Esther?" fragt sie schwach, weil sonst eigentlich niemand davon wissen kann.

Leo schüttelt den Kopf. "Ich hab die Vermisstenanzeige auf deinem Tisch gesehen."

Ah. Sie war also auf mehr als nur eine Weise nachlässig. Einen Moment lang sieht sie Leo an, doch der guckt einfach nur abwartend zurück. Knetet seine Hände. Er ist manchmal so unbeholfen, wenn es um das Spektrum menschlicher Gefühle geht, aber er meint es immer aufrichtig. Und egal, wie ungern Pia darüber redet … er hat zumindest eine Antwort verdient.

"Mara-", fängt sie an und stolpert schon gleich am Anfang über ihre Wortwahl. In letzter Zeit fragt sie sich immer häufiger, ob Präsens noch angebracht ist oder sie sich allmählich mit der Vergangenheitsform abfinden sollte. Dabei ist sie vermutlich die einzige Person auf der Welt, die Mara noch nicht aufgegeben hat.

"Sie ist meine kleine Schwester", antwortet sie schließlich, vielleicht etwas energischer als beabsichtigt. Präsens. Weil es Präsens sein muss.

"Hm." Leos Hände graben sich in den gestärkten Stoff seiner Bettwäsche, während er sich sammelt. Pia rechnet ihm hoch an, dass er die Antwort einfach so hinnimmt und nicht nach weiteren Details fragt. "Ich weiß, dass wir nicht die dicksten Freunde sind, und ich hatte oft ... andere Dinge um die Ohren. Aber ich wäre da gewesen. Ich hoffe, du weißt das. Ich bin auch jetzt da, wenn du das möchtest."

Pia kann ihm nicht einmal wirklich böse sein, als er sie auf diese bestimmte Weise ansieht: ein bisschen hoffnungsvoll, ein bisschen mitleidig. Genau deshalb hat sie nie etwas gesagt. Pia möchte kein Mitleid und auch nicht reden. Sie möchte Antworten.

"Leo, da gibt es nichts zu sagen. Es ist zehn Jahre her. Alles gut."

Irgendetwas blitzt in seinen Augen auf und er schnaubt leise.

"Was?" fragt sie irritiert.

"Sorry. Es ist nur ... du klingst wie Adam. Hätte ich nicht erwartet."

Pia presst die Lippen aufeinander. Die Finger ihrer Hand bohren sich in ihren Oberschenkel und Schmerz fährt durch ihr Bein. Sie begrüßt es. Immerhin etwas, worauf sie sich konzentrieren kann, während sie mit einem ungewohnten Aufflammen von Wut in der Brust ringt. Auch deshalb hat sie nie etwas gesagt: weil es immer alle besser zu wissen glauben.

"Worüber soll ich denn deiner Meinung nach reden? Meinst du vielleicht, ich hab nicht schon genug geredet?" Mit der Polizei. Mit ihren Eltern. Mit allen, die etwas gesehen oder gewusst haben könnten. Und ja, auch mit einem Therapeuten. "Aber keiner kann mir irgendwelche Antworten geben. Ist was Schlimmes mit ihr passiert? Lebt sie noch? Oder ist sie einfach abgehauen? Vermisst sie uns? Ist sie ... ist sie glücklich?"

Pia merkt, dass sie gerade mehr von sich preisgibt, als sie eigentlich möchte. Dass sie Dinge ausspricht, die sie kaum zu denken gewagt hat. Doch die letzten Tage haben sie so unfassbar müde gemacht, schon lange vor der Entführung. Leos Worte haben sie daran erinnert, wie wütend und hilflos sie sich fühlt. Und jetzt, da sie einmal angefangen hat, kann sie nicht mehr aufhören.

"An manchen Tagen denke ich, sie versteckt sich bloß. Dass ich nach Hause laufe und sie da einfach stehen wird. Mir ein Stück von ihrem Brötchen abgibt, weil sie immer zu viel gekauft hat. Und an anderen Tagen-"

Sie schluckt den Rest des Satzes hinunter. Sie hat schon viel zu viel gesagt. Leo hat sie dabei stumm angesehen und reden lassen, doch jetzt lehnt lehnt er sich langsam aus seinem Kissenberg vor.

"Und an anderen Tagen hoffst du, dass man endlich eine Leiche findet. Weil dann zumindest das Warten vorbei ist", beendet er den Satz für sie. Es ist, als hätte er direkt in ihren Kopf gesehen und die Worte dort herausgezogen. Da ist ein Verständnis in seiner Stimme, seinen Augen, das über reines Mitgefühl hinausgeht.

Adam. Der fünfzehn Jahre verschwunden war, ohne dass jemand Bescheid wusste. Den manche schon für tot hielten. Adam, mit dem Leo schon als Junge befreundet war.

"Ich hab vergessen, dass-", fängt Pia an, bevor sie sich unterbricht.

Lüge. Sie hat es nicht vergessen. In dem Moment, in dem Leo seine Verbindung zu Adam gestanden hat, hat sie gewusst: Du bist genauso wie ich. Du weißt, was es bedeutet zu warten. Und das hat ihr Angst gemacht. Also ist sie mit ihren Fragen lieber zu Adam gegangen, weil es einfacher für sie war verstehen zu wollen, als verstanden zu werden.

"Adam ist zurückgekommen", sagt sie stattdessen. Es klingt ein bisschen trotziger, als sie beabsichtigt hat. Fast schon vorwurfsvoll.

"Ja ...", gibt Leo nachdenklich zu. "Aber manchmal hab ich immer noch das Gefühl, dass ich auf etwas warte."

Ob ihm bewusst ist, dass er das gerade laut ausgesprochen hat? Pia bezweifelt es. Die Situation zwischen ihm und Adam hat sich in den letzten Wochen deutlich entspannt, doch sie erinnert sich noch gut an Leos verzweifelte Ratlosigkeit und an Adams Geheimniskrämerei im Sommer. So etwas schüttelt man nicht einfach ab. Und fünfzehn Jahre erst recht nicht. Pia weiß immer noch nicht genau, was mit den beiden los ist, doch immerhin ist Adam da. Immerhin haben sie eine Chance, es besser zu machen. Mit Mara wird sie diese Chance vielleicht nie haben und der Gedanke bringt sie manchmal fast um.

Pia lässt rastlos ihren Blick wandern und bleibt wieder bei dem Tiger-Ballon hängen. Die Knopfaugen scheinen sie zu beobachten, auf irgendetwas zu warten.

"Und was tut man?" flüstert sie und hasst, wie ihre Stimme dabei schwankt. "... wenn man das Warten nicht mehr aushält?"

Leo guckt betreten auf seine Hände, bevor er seufzend zugibt: "Sich ins Fitnessstudio flüchten. Bis in die Nacht arbeiten. Trinken. Letzteres hab ich schnell wieder aufgegeben, aber das hätte auch anders laufen können."

Das ist ... unerwartet und unerwartet ehrlich. Pia hebt die Augenbrauen und Leo zuckt die Achseln, ein selbstironisches, kleines Lächeln im Gesicht. Sie wird den Verdacht nicht los, dass er den letzten Teil übers Trinken mit Absicht erwähnt hat. Er mag nichts von dem Ritalin wissen, aber vielleicht ahnt er mehr, als er zugeben möchte.

"Ich hab vieles versucht, mehr oder weniger erfolgreich", spricht er weiter. "Aber irgendwann – ich glaube, es war an einem Mittwoch – ging es einfach nicht mehr. Ich bin nachts heimgekommen, hab mir an der Tanke eine Flasche Jack Daniels gekauft und bin zum Baumhaus gefahren. Hab ich mich hingestellt und laut gesagt: 'Adam ist tot'. Danach ging's mir nicht unbedingt besser, aber zumindest das Warten hat aufgehört."

Leo starrt einen Moment lang vor sich hin, doch er scheint nicht wirklich zu sehen. Sein Blick ist kilometerweit weg und Jahre in der Vergangenheit, in einem dunklen Wald vor den Ruinen eines alten Baumhauses. Pia ist sich nicht sicher, ob er das jemals jemandem erzählt hat. Ob er jemals geredet hat. Mit irgendwem.

"Ich hab meinen besten Freund für tot erklärt", sagt er leise, als würde ihm das jetzt erst wirklich bewusst werden. Der Geist von Scham und Entsetzen huscht über sein Gesicht und Pia kann nicht anders, als nach seiner Hand zu greifen.

Tu dir das nicht an.

"Adam ist zurückgekommen", wiederholt sie eindringlich, diesmal ganz ohne Trotz. "Und ich glaube auch nicht, dass er nochmal geht."

Leo starrt sie lange an, bevor er wieder im Hier und Jetzt ankommt. "Du hast Recht ... sorry."

Pia schüttelt entschieden den Kopf. Dafür muss er sich nicht entschuldigen. Sie weiß selbst nicht, wie sie an Leos Stelle gehandelt hätte, der noch weitaus schwerere Geheimnise geschultert hat und dabei ganz alleine war. Fünfzehn Jahre sind eine lange Zeit. Wer weiß, ob sie bis dahin nicht selbst eine fiktive Beerdigung für Mara abhalten muss, um bei Verstand zu bleiben.

"Du hast das damals gebraucht und das ist völlig okay. Aber ... ich kann das nicht." Noch nicht. Noch muss sie weitersuchen. Glauben. Hoffen.

"Ich sag nicht, dass es der richtige Weg für dich ist. Oder dass du aufgeben sollst. Aber Pia ... ich versteh's. Und ich bin da. Bitte vergiss das nicht."

Sie merkt, wie ihre Augenwinkel zu brennen anfangen. Auch deswegen redet sie kaum noch mit jemandem über Mara: Sie ist es so, so Leid zu weinen. Trotzdem hat sie zum ersten Mal seit langem das Gefühl, ein bisschen freier atmen zu können. Es hat sich eigentlich nichts geändert und doch ... Vielleicht ist es nicht so schlecht verstanden zu werden. Pia zieht verstohlen die Nase hoch.

"Danke. Wirklich. Und, Leo?" Ihre Finger schließen sich etwas fester um seine Hand, bevor sie das ausspricht, wofür sie eigentlich gekommen ist: "Danke, dass du mir das Leben gerettet hast."

Leos Finger und Lächeln sind ganz warm, als er zurückdrückt. "Gern geschehen."

[the-kr8tor]

You guys were once again cooking without me 😤

This all absolutely fucks like the angst and hurt/comfort potential?! This as a canon event would make uncle ben dying like a walk in the park (sorry uncle Ben)

Hmm as for music 🤔 hozier (ofc) comes to mind! And def a sprinkle of mitski in there

Oh my god.

Angst took over for this one.

Prowler!Hobie x Spider!R where R and Hobie dated for years, not knowing about either of their alter-egos until R finally revealed themself to Hobie, finally trusting him enough to know the biggest secret of their life thus far.

And Hobie, who as the Prowler took up a job to get rid of the spider-person hours before meeting up with R, is devastated that he just accepted a job to take down his partner.

I’m not okay 🫠

- 😅

BRO??!! Like R is so smiley and still a bit scared of telling him but they're so sure that they can trust Hobie with the secret and that they love him so much that it trumps the apprehension but then R sees his smile fade slowly and the light in his eyes dim from realization

[heavenlycloud]

the veil~ smau

pairing: huh yunjin x fem! reader, aespa 5th member fem! reader x huh yunjin

status: ongoing... ➸ 04/15/2022 // taglist OPEN

synopsis: making friends— that’s all you downloaded this new app for, that’s all the new app is supposed to be for. the original plan goes awry when you meet the girl that seems to be your perfect match.

genre: fluff, angst, crack, social media au, romance, comedy, strangers to lovers, idol au

starring: le sserafim, aespa, minji and hanni (new jeans), itzy, nana (woo-ah!), sieun (stayc), jurin (xg), shotaro (nct), heejin (loona), dosie (purple kiss), yeri (red velvet), felix (skz), gaeul (ive), somi, keeho (p1harmony), lily and haewon (nmixx), remi (cherry bullet), txt, lee chaeyoung (fromis_9), beomhan (fm entertainment), more

warnings: swearing, dirty jokes, lightly implied nsfw

fic notes: this is a work of fiction i made for fun just like my other works. i'm not assuming the sexualities, personalities, platonic/romantic relationships between any and all idols used in this fic. idols born after 2003 will not be frequently written in or directly involved with any romantic relationship/implied nsfw at any time.

author notes: this is my first smau!!! i've been wanting to make one for years and i finally found the motivation and confidence to do it. right now i haven't figured out an update schedule since i'm still in school, but i'll work on finding one if people actually want one. some chapters may be very text heavy opposed to tweets and messages just to contribute to the plot.

‎♡‧₊˚˘͈ᵕ˘͈‎ 彡♡ ༘*.ﾟ .·:¨༺ ʚ♡ɞ༻¨*:·.﹢࿐ ☆

┊┊┊┊°⋆ ꒰♡꒱⋆°

┊┊┊୨♡୧ ₊˚๑ * ⋆

┊ ┊˚εїз⋆ ༄

┊:·.♡☆°

before you begin please read the profiles, how it works, and introduction

profiles: the androids | the angels

how it works: the veil app

0. introduction: i got a match

i. one: hell froze over

ii. two: oh that bitch GAY

iii. three: the face of a cold blooded killer

iv. four: you think im cute? part ii. text + social media posts

v. five: hey bby gorl i want u

[defmaybe]

Masterlist!

Some notes before going in

Absolute-fucking-ly no minors. No spawn-camping even. There will be no smut for anyone born after 2005, and the women from 2006 and later will appear just as supporting characters only.

No non-con, both on the reader and on the women. Dub-con may appear from time to time since I enjoy being on the receiving end of it.

No AO3 warnings. No scat. No vomit. No BBC. No BWC. No gangbang on a woman. No ugly-fat-bastard bullshit. No men-in-their-forties nonsense. No physically violent torture. No gore. No death.

No edited photos. No AI nudes. No AI undresses. No AI prose generation (I use it for ideas and beta-reading sometimes). No plagiarism.

No yandere and incest. You can find plenty in the community already, and it's not my thing, really.

That's all. If you're ready, hop in!

Christmas!

aespa

Giselle - [AER-698] My Boss(?) Loves My Ass So Much She Puts Her Tongue on It, Then She Fucks Me in the Ass Like I’m Her Cockslut and Make Me Cum!

Karina - Not Shy

Karina - J’adore (Sequel-ish to Not Shy)

Karina ft. Jo Yuri - Lotus Eater

Ningning - Excel

Reticence

BABYMONSTER

Pharita - illicit affairs

fromis_9

Seoyeon - Arrangement

ITZY

Chaeryeong - Sunset

Ryujin - After-class Activities

Yeji - After-class Activities: Part II

Yuna - Clandestine

Yuna - Clandestine (Deluxe Expanded Edition)

Yuna - Sticky

Yuna - Party Police (Sequel to Sticky)

IVE

Gaeul - Noona from the Bar

Gaeul - Untitled Drabble

Gaeul & Wonyoung - Pegging & Penetration

Wonyoung - mirrorball

Yujin - Shame

Yujin - Safe (Sequel to Shame)

Kep1er

Dayeon - A Quick Guide to Handling an Academic Rivalry

KISS OF LIFE

Haneul - Bahama

LE SSERAFIM

Sakura - Midnight Blues (Ask)

Sakura - Wrecked

Sakura - Wrecked (Deluxe Expanded Edition): Bonus Track - Sakura

Yunjin - Wrecked (Deluxe Expanded Edition): Bonus Track - Yunjin

NJZ

Minji - Law and Technology

Minji ft. NMIXX's Haewon - Mistake (Angst)

Minji - Rockland (Angst)

NMIXX

Haewon - Cherry

Haewon ft. NewJeans' Minji - Mistake

Haewon & Lily - Pegging & Penetration: Part II

Lily - Prudence

PURPLE KISS

Dosie - I Love You, I’m Sorry (Angst)

Goeun - Sprint

Red Velvet

Wendy - Pros of Pursuing Photography as Your Career

STAYC

Isa - Untitled Drabble

J - Si, C'est Moi: Rythme

Sumin - Si, C'est Moi: Énergie

Yoon - Si, C'est Moi: Délire

tripleS

Dahyun - Casual

Dahyun - Casual: Part II

Nakyoung - this is 金孥炅, my deskmate when i was at 臺北市立建國高級中學 she would spit on my lunch everyday and calls me a good boy

Xinyu - Dress

TWICE

Dahyun - In What Terms? (Ask)

Weeekly

Jihan - Salt (Ask)

Jihan - Spicy (Ask)

Others/Soloists

Chuu - Breached Boundaries

Gracie Abrams - Let It Happen

Im Yeojin - Untitled Drabble (Ask)

Jo Yuri ft. aespa's Karina - Lotus Eater

Kang Hyewon - Bound

Kim Minju - Salacious

[disast3r4rtist]

WIP~

Time for the weekly dosis of Angst 😏😏😏

Remember any suggestions or ideas you have, you can tell me freely or coment it, I would love to hear your ideas for this au 🙏 (Since im PROBABLY the first on making a tangled Au of these two gays sinners)

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝Love me or Hate me❞

Earth 42! Miles Morales × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Status : Drafting, Slow Updates, Taglist is open

➢ Description : Spider-Nox is a promising spiderwoman. It's believed that she was destined to protect and save people. However, like how every Spiderman stories goes, a tragic accident occurs which led to the death of her best friend’s father. Struggling with the guilt, the weight of her mistake, unable to bear the pain and the feeling of an outcast in the very city she swore to protect, she chooses isolation as her only path to redemption.

➢ Genres : Angst, Slight Fluff, Dark themes

➢ Warnings : Depression, Isolation, Survivor's Guilt, Canonical Death, No AAVE and Spanish ( I want to avoid misusing the languages ), Miles G. Morales will be OOC ( mostly based on limited information and headcanons ), The story is moreso based on what I think will happen to the continuation of the story.

➢ Link : Character Profile

Masterlist

Chapter 01 | Ab Initio

Chapter 02 | Sola Dosis Facit Venemum

Chapter 03 | Dies Tenebrosa Sicut Nox

Chapter 04 | Decessit Vita Patris

Chapter 05 | Hinc Illae Lacrimae

Chapter 06 | Damnatio Memoriae

Chapter 07 | Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim

Chapter 08 | Hodie Mihi, Cras Tibi

Chapter 09 | Tabula Rasa

Chapter 10 | Omnia Mutantur

Chapter 11 | Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit

Chapter 12 | Memento Vivere

Chapter 13 | Pax Aeterna

➢ Taglist : @moon-bo-young

➢ Credits : The animated divider is made by @/cafekitsune. The latin phrases used as titles are from @/writing-reference-redux.

➢ Note : If your username is highlighted violet that means I cannot tag your blog. I suggest you either follow my blog and turn on your notifications or you turn on your subscription to the masterlist. [ EXAMPLE ]

[renata-dp]

list five things that make you happy, then put this in the inbox of the last ten people who reblogged something from you, get to know your mutuals and your followers

I think what mostly makes me happy it's just being with friends (like u jsjsjs <3) and hanging out with them, even quiet vc's are enough for me, the fact of being with a friend just makes me feel better. qwq

2. Looking at the sky, taking note of every small detail such as the shape of the clouds, the colors of the sky at that moment, or the stars that appear at night is something that really soothes me and can make me happy (yet it makes me a bit sad when thinking that not many people can appreciate it as well). Also I wished I was an astronomy nerd just to know a bunch of stuff about stars and space, but I end up just simply enjoying the view.

3. My fictional blorbos ofc! and other characters thatI love besides them as well. I love seeing fan-work or official stuff where they're just happy, enjoying stuff and having fun! (not a that much of a fan of angsty stuff, but I get it sometimes. We all need our dosis of angst at times)

4. Simple physical touches (with ppl that I'm comfortable with ofc lol) like a pat on the back or a hug. Even though I don't know how to respond 'cuz I'm not used to it and that might make it look like I don't like it, it actually brightens my mood and means a lot to me (tough I'm a sucker for head/hair pats)

5. Listening to music! Music can change my mood so easily in general (not only to a good one tho, we all got those songs u have to help you cry your shit out and that's cool). I always get amazed every time I stop to think about how music can be so important and the different ways it influences our lives even in the smallest details we don't even notice in our every day.

[lunearta]

❃ 𝙱𝙰𝙸𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾 𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙴 𝙻𝙾𝙱𝙾𝚂 - 𝙲𝙰𝙿Í𝚃𝚄𝙻𝙾 6 ❃

» Temática: SKZ híbridos x Oc (Lis) » Género: Poly, fantasía, OMEGAVERSE » Warnings: Fluff, smut con historia, angst, tensión sexual, sexo, degradación, dinámica A/B/O explícita, dom/sub, sado, amor, entre otros. » Warning de CAPÍTULO: Menciones a café(?), no smut (aún). Mención a supresores (pastillas). Ansiedad y angustia por parte de la protagonista. Si me dejo algo me lo decis. » Tipo: Serie. » Palabras: 1.980.

» Masterlist « | Anterior | Capítulo 7

N de A: Me vais a perdonar lo mal que escribo el MxM, porque hasta ahora todo lo que he escrito ha sido MxFem!OC. No estoy acostumbrada PARA NADA a escribir relaciones románticas entre hombres, aunque sé que es esencialmente lo mismo que las demás relaciones... Pero en fin, pido paciencia. También deciros que este es un poquito más corto que los demás, perdonad.¡Intentaré subir el otro lo más pronto posible para compensar!

Lis se miró al espejo por primera vez en mucho tiempo.

Quitando el maquillaje casi desvanecido y los ojos rojos, lo más preocupante eran los círculos que parecían sudor a cada lado del cuello. Se quitó la camiseta de cuello alto, quedando en sujetador, y los apósitos se fueron con ella. Habían perdido hasta el pegamento.

Inhaló una gran bocanada de aire. Le debía la vida a HeeSeul. Le debía su carrera y la sanidad mental que casi había perdido de los nervios. Usó toallitas del baño para limpiarse las glándulas, teniendo especial cuidado en el centro de estas, menos dilatadas ahora que había consumido las pastillas.

Esto significaba que debía aumentar la dosis, o que tenía que tomárselas en intervalos de tiempo más cortos. Nada bueno. Su cuerpo se había habituado a los supresores.

Una vez limpia y sin rastro de olor —cerciorándose de que las glándulas no siguieran supurando líquido, se colocó los parches y la camiseta prestada. El olor a lavanda y melón le entraron en las fosas nasales sin previo aviso, y arrugó la nariz, aturdida.

— Este debe ser el olor de antes... —susurró, recordando al señor Kim y su aroma dulce—. Es muy fuerte.

No le molestaba estar rodeada por las feromonas de un alfa, pero se dio cuenta de lo mucho que echaba de menos las de Chan y el grupo. Su aroma a bergamota y miel le calmaban el espíritu. Ojalá pudiera pedirle que la impregnara de su olor... No, sería extraño viniendo de una "humana" y en su estado, no sabía cómo reaccionaría.

Bien. El maquillaje era lo de menos, tampoco es que se hubiera puesto demasiado. Abrió la puerta y entró en el despacho donde aún la esperaba el señor Kim. Al verla con la camiseta dos veces más grande que ella sonrió.

— Te queda muy bien. —la cumplimentó—. ¿Estás preparada para volver?

— Sí, calmada y lista para la acción.

— Me alegro.

Ambos regresaron a la sala de Stray Kids. Han dormitaba ahora en la silla mientras las estilistas le ponían el maquillaje, y Felix seguía en la misma posición, solo que ahora Minho ocupaba el lugar de Chan. El líder por otro lado, atendía una llamada que parecía importante, pero que cortó en cuanto los vio entrar.

— Ya estáis aquí, perfecto. —dijo—. Cuando nos vayamos a las pruebas de sonido hay una cosa que... ¿qué llevas puesto?

Lis estiró la camiseta de cuello alto a fin de que la viera mejor, procurando no parecer nerviosa.

— Ah, ¿esto? Es que... verás, eh...

— De vuelta de enseñarle el escenario y el funcionamiento del lugar hubo alguien que le echó el café por encima con las prisas y le presté una de las camisetas de mi marido. —HeeSeul se recolocó las gafas, actuando como todo un profesional.

Le iba a deber más que la vida a este paso.

— Sí, eso mismo. —balbuceó, sin mirar a nadie. Dios, no sabía mentir.

— Genial, entonces, volviendo al tema. —Chan se cruzó de brazos—. Antes de irnos recuérdame que te cuente una cosa.

— Sí, claro.

Estaba absolutamente arrebatador. Le habían planchado el pelo ligeramente púrpura por encima de los ojos, y el maquillaje tenía justo el mismo color. Vestía ahora una camisa negra con un cordón anudado que dejaba ver su abdomen y cuya tela "sobrante" caía por detrás. Por no hablar de los inmensos pantalones blancos y los zapatos a conjunto.

Sí, era la mánager de supermodelos al parecer. Supermodelos que le provocaban sensaciones que no debía sentir. Se lo habría quedado mirando demasiado tiempo, porque el chico sonrió y llamó su atención.

— ¿Qué pasa? —quiso saber. Le habían pintado los labios y la verdad es que le apetecía mucho probarlos...

— N-Nada. —farfulló, roja como un tomate, desviando la vista—. ¿Vas a bailar así?

— Eh, sí. ¿No te gusta? —se miró, preocupado.

— ¡No! ¡Claro que me gusta! ¡Me encanta! Estás guapísimo, ¿y a quién no le gustarías? Q-Quiero decir, a ver, es que mírate, eres tan... Eh...

Chan entrecerró los ojos y se acercó a la muchacha. Alzó una mano y la colocó justo a su lado, apoyando su peso en la puerta en actitud seductora.

— Continúa...

— O sea... Estás genial, Chan, y... E-Es que... No puedo.

Se tapó la cara con las manos y se agazapó frente al líder, completamente abrumada. Olía demasiado bien, demasiado bien. DEMASIADO BIEN. La loba en su interior la arañaba y el dolor comenzó a ser insoportable. ¿Cuánto faltaba para su celo? Unas semanas aún, ¿no? Era imposible que se le hubiera...

Bangchan interpretó el silencio y los quedos gemidos de manera errónea, y toda su fachada de hombre sensual se fue por la borda. Su piel adquirió un tono rojizo y también se agachó, buscando la mirada de la chica para pedirle perdón.

— Lo siento, no pretendía hacerte sentir incómoda. Si te soy sincero, me he dado cringe actuando así. No me acaba de gustar esta versión de mí, aunque a los demás parece encantarles...

— No es nada, no te preocupes —le sonrió entre los dedos—. Estoy bien, solo ha sido inesperado.

— Haz el favor, Chris. Vas a matarla de los nervios —lo riñó el señor Kim, divertido—. Chicos, os dejo. Ya le he enseñado a vuestra mánager cómo funcionan las cosas por aquí y hemos solventado papeleo. Vendré después de la reunión con JYP a daros detalles de la situación de la empresa, como siempre.

— Gracias, señor Kim. —agradeció Chan con una reverencia una vez se levantaron.

Pasada la extraña y ligeramente sensual situación, ahora sí que podían seguir a lo suyo. Changbin se sentó al lado de Lis en el espacioso sofá. Minho, a su derecha, no dijo nada más que mirarla, curioso. Las caricias al pelo de Felix no se detuvieron.

— Espero que no te haya inflado mucho la cabeza este tío. —dijo Changbin en su usual tono risueño—. A veces llega a ser muy pesado, pero me gusta.

— Qué va, ha sido muy comprensivo. Sabe que soy novata y quiere ayudarme. Voy a tomar algunas clases de márquetin y dirección. —se le iluminaron los ojos solo de pensarlo.

Changbin esbozó una sonrisa.

— ¡Es estupendo! Oh, ugh. —la olfateó y arrugó la nariz—. ¿De quién es esta camiseta? Huele mucho a alfa.

— Del marido del representante Kim. He tenido un pequeño accidente con un café.

— Siempre vas mirándolo todo como si nada pudiera hacerte daño. Voy a tener que vigilarte de cerca por si te tengo que recoger del suelo.

— Eso te gustaría, ¿eh? —se rio Minho, travieso—. Acaparar la atención de nuestra preciosa mánager... Solo para ti...

— ¿Preciosa? —masculló la chica, sintiendo el rostro arderle.

Changbin se ruborizó hasta la raíz e hizo un puchero.

— Q-Quizá un poco... —musitó el rapero por lo bajo.

— ¡¿C-Changbin?!

— ¡No me culpes! —levantó las manos en señal de rendición—. No es mi culpa de que seas condenadamente atractiva, ¿sabes?

— ¡No soy atractiva! —replicó. ¿Estaba ciego o qué?

— Lo eres. —insistió Minho esta vez—. Lo quieras o no.

— ¡Liiiiiiiiiiiiiis! —gritó Han de pronto, yendo hacia ella y enterrando la cara en sus faldas. Hasta hace un segundo estaba profundamente dormido en la silla—. Lis, he tenido un sueño horrible. En él decías que nos odiabas y te ibas.

La chica parpadeó. Demasiadas emociones en un día. Con un profundo suspiro le acarició la cabeza de la misma forma en la que el bailarín principal se lo estaba haciendo a Felix, ganándose un ronroneo contra los muslos que le mandó cosquillas en todo el cuerpo... De maneras que prefería no explicar.

— No os podría odiar ni aunque quisiera. —levantó la cabeza y se topó con la mirada indescifrable de I.N—. Mientras estéis cómodos conmigo, me quedaré junto a vosotros.

Jeongin desvió la vista, los ojos destelleando en un intenso rojo oscuro. Lo que fuera que le estaba pasando por la cabeza debía ser serio, a juzgar por lo fuerte que apretaba los puños.

— Más te vale. —el puchero de Jisung se hizo más pronunciado. Levantó el meñique—. ¿Prometido?

— Prometido. —entrelazaron los dedos y el menor de los dos le mostró la mejor sonrisa que podía darle, una que le calmó las emociones disparadas. Era ese sencillo gesto lo que la había serenado, ¿o quizá el fresco olor a melocotón que desprendía? Quería... Darle un bocado...

— ¿...oyes? —habló alguien.

Le costó varios segundos recobrar la compostura.

— ¿Qué? —preguntó, girándose hacia Chan.

— Que si me oyes. Te has quedado con la mirada perdida mientras te decía que íbamos a empezar con las prácticas de sonido. ¿Te vienes?

— Claro, cómo no. —se incorporó, mandando al suelo a quokka en un gruñido—. Cuando queráis.

Los nueve fueron escoltados al escenario. Lis se quedó en primera fila, ilusionada y ciertamente orgullosa de ser la primera en ver la actuación. Muchas stays querrían estar allí. La canción, "LALALALA" resonó por el lugar con fuerza, dando por iniciadas las pruebas. En la primera pasada, pararon dos veces. El micro de Lee Know se apagaba a ratos, y el auricular de Hyunjin ni siquiera funcionaba.

Tras arreglar los problemas, pasaron la canción seguida tres veces más sin poner mucho esfuerzo, concentrados en corregir errores puntuales y en acostumbrarse al suelo del programa. En la última pasada, el director les señaló cuáles eran las cámaras y a dónde mirar en cada parte de la canción.

Lis no lograba despegar la vista de los ocho miembros de grupo. Cada uno tenía sus pros y sus contras en el escenario: Chan destacaba por la fuerza de su baile, igual que Minho, pero ambos se quedaban atrás en cuanto a expresión en contraste con Han, Hyunjin. La fiereza de Changbin llamaba la atención, opacando los defectos que pudiera tener, que no eran muchos.

Seungmin y I.N fallaban más en movimiento, sin embargo, ambos sobresalían en lo vocal, cosa que les daba la ventaja. Han destacaba en prácticamente todo como buen ACE del grupo, y aunque la voz de Hyunjin se perdería entre la multitud, la actitud corporal y la presencia escénica eran más que suficientes.

Al terminar, Lis aplaudió, eufórica, y los chicos le dedicaron una reverencia tímida.

— ¡Es espectacular! ¡Vais a ser la envidia de la industria! —expresó ella, corriendo a su encuentro en el backstage-. Os habéis esforzado mucho.

Felix abrió los brazos y la muchacha lo abrazó, feliz. Ah... Era tan fácil amigarse con él.

— Si lo hemos hecho tan bien... —puso la mejilla-. Dame un beso como recompensa.

Lis enrojeció y se separó un tanto.

— No.

— ¿Por qué? —se quejó, triste—. Es una simple e inocente petición...

— De inocente no tiene nada. —lo interrumpió con los brazos cruzados—. Si quieres un beso, gánatelo.

El chico arqueó las cejas, interesado.

— ¿Y cómo debería ganármelo? —quiso saber.

— Eh... —lo meditó unos segundos—. En el directo no tienes que cometer ningún error y... ¡el ending fairy! —jugueteó con sus dedos—. Sí, ahí vas a tener que... hacer un medio corazón con la mano y simular que te comes la otra mitad. ¡Eso! ¡A-Algo así!

Felix se mantuvo serio antes de volver a hablar.

— Es bastante complicado de hacer con tanta gente mirando... —mintió, fingiendo preocupación.

— Pues ahí están mis condiciones. Nada más y nada menos.

El chico asintió.

— No sé si podré hacerlo, pero... Lo intentaré.

El grupo se desplazó de vuelta a la habitación que les correspondía, con Lis en cabeza. No vio ni por un momento la sonrisa pícara de Felix ni sus ojos iluminándose en ámbar en anticipación.

Iba a conseguir ese beso a toda costa.

TAGLIST: @hwangrfrnd

© LUNEARTA, 2024. 𝘕𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘵á 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘢 𝘭𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢.

[notsolonedesert]

ah yes you. You who shattered my heart with your newest fic on AO3. You are an amazing writer thank you for writing for us. Don't worry though I'm cooking up a truly heartbreaking one shot in retaliation for shattering my heart 😈

You! You who introduced me to epic angst! You're honoring me with your kind words. I am absolutely not ready for another dosis of feels, but at the same time I have already subscribed and will immediately read it and read your other works too 😭😂

[junkdayz]

Most of this is copied but it still works to be honest—

INTRO POST !!

Hiiiiii I’m remi, Mia or zita (Zeeta), 18, any prns, dominican, pansexual.

Just in case for roleplay purposes: Non-binary. has a slight athletic build due to being on the gymnastics team when he was in high school. 6'3. he's very shy and awkward unless he's around someone he enjoys talking to. no matter the fc i will always use any prns and have a penis. i am NOT a girl. please don't call me one lol

Kinks are found here

DNI ୧ʕ •̀ᴥ•́ ʔ୨

if you cannot handle mature themes, if you're racist, homophobic, misogynistic, transphobic, if you're often involved in drama, if you support negative and hateful behaviour, if you kink and/or fetish shame, people who are dishonest, negativity, being interrupted, loud and crowded places, close-mindedness, unfair treatment, lack of respect for personal boundaries, being pressured into things, judgmental attitudes, procrastination, unnecessary conflict, insensitivity to others' feelings, lack of ambition, laziness, unreliability, people who are overly critical, feeling unappreciated

likes ʅʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔʃ

music, dancing, hanging with friends, trying out new foods, watching movies, video games, fashion and styling, photography, traveling, exploring new cultures, reading books, writing lyrics or poetry, collecting sneakers, practicing new dance routines, going to concerts, playing sports, cooking or baking, watching anime, painting or drawing, learning new languages, attending fan meet-ups and events, visiting cafes, shopping for unique clothing and accessories, participating in charity events or volunteering, listening to podcasts, yoga or meditation, going on nature walks or hikes, watching reality TV shows, doing makeup tutorials, visiting art galleries and museums, playing with pets.

I am an unpublished author, teen author, fanfiction author, beginner author and possibly many other things!!!! These factors don't make me or anyone less of an author, because you can write fanfiction and still be an author! You can be unpublished and still be an author! And you can be younger than most and still be an author!!!

Guess what! I will do requests!!! If you want to, send in a prompt for a one-shot! Look at the bottom for my request info!

What I write?

• I wanna write a lot of k-pop fanfiction's as of right now

• I write my own stories, and I would one day like to be an actual author

• I specialise in romance-type and heavy smut stories

• One-shots

• Multichapter fics

• And I'm gonna write/make a lot of WIPS (the list is endless!)

• Request reminders!!!!!

• I have a right to refuse requests!

This isn't me being rude and I'm sorry if you feel that way! It's just that I'm trying to stay safe online and if I'm not comfortable writing something I won't write it.

• I can write one-shots or mini-fanfics!

• I will do: Ships, SFW, Angst, LGBTQ+, one-shots, mini-fanfics, NSFW, Alcohol, _________ x reader, raceplay, gender-bent, alternate anatomy: boypussy | girlcock, regular stuff

• When it comes to requests try to send in ones that align with the fandoms I'm in!

• This is an LGBTQ+ safe place, everyone is welcome!!!!!

• If you don't like, don't interact, please! Again this account will be dark and freaky and may contain uncomfortable and triggering themes. i always content warn and tag the content that i know is sensitive so that people who don't want to see it, don't see it! i encourage those who are uncomfortable with what i write about (see below for specifics) to utilize the block and blacklist features to their liking! i can be slow to answer asks, i have a job and i am also neurodivergent so apologies in advance if it takes a while.

Fics written as of now

Pillow talk | reader x Femboy dosie (purple kiss)