#i apologize for the coloring but I blame the lighting in this scene

[22ayla21]

This topic is a bit dark and quite sad, so I can understand if you don't want to accept this request.

But I like how you usually cover a little bit of everything in the scene of your posts (apart from some reactions that are really endearing on the part of the boys of the hsr of those you currently write, and that make you feel happy about how good companions they are):

The scene was how they would react/encourage their wife in case she had had an abortion/loss of the baby (It would be the first pregnancy she had, before the little ones they currently have)

The Weight of Loss

Nothing can compare to how a mother loses her child.

An unnatural silence hung over the palace. Even the guards, usually clattering their boots through the corridors, stepped softer, as if afraid to disturb the quiet. Servants whispered among themselves, and courtiers tried to stay out of sight altogether.

Mydei sat by her bedside, holding her cold hand in his. The room was dim, thick curtains blocking out the light, but even the sun couldn't dispel the chill.

She lay motionless, eyes closed, but he knew she wasn't asleep.

She hadn't uttered a word since it happened.

Mydei looked at her pale, waxen face and felt something inside him tear apart.

He always knew the world was cruel. He had seen cities fall, people die, betrayal corrode souls. But never before had he felt so powerless.

Her shoulders trembled, but there were no tears. Only this frightening, icy silence, devouring her from within.

He didn't know what to say. What words could comfort in the face of such loss?

He simply slowly raised her hand and gently pressed his lips to her fingers.

He wanted to say that the pain would pass, that time would heal the wounds, that they would still have a future. But that would be a lie.

Some wounds don't heal. They become part of a person, changing them forever.

So he remained silent.

Just sat beside her, warming her hand with his own, running his fingers over her skin, letting her know she wasn't alone.

Someday she would smile again. Someday this pain would subside.

But until then, he would be there. Always.

The house was deafeningly silent.

Anaxagoras sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed. His hands were clasped, and a dull, aching pain pulsed in his chest. He had never been good at comforting, and now... Now he simply didn't know what to say.

His wife lay facing the wall, her shoulders barely moving. She wasn't crying aloud, but he knew the tears were there, deep inside, burning her from within.

The child was gone.

He would never hear his voice, never feel his tiny hand in his own. He would never know what color his eyes would have been—hers or his?

But she... She had lost more. Hope. A future she had already begun to build in her heart.

Slowly, carefully, he lay down beside her, not touching her, just feeling the warmth of her body.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a long pause. He wanted to shout. How could she think she was to blame?

"No," his voice was hoarse but firm. "No, don't you dare apologize."

She didn't answer, just curled up tighter, as if trying to dissolve into the air.

Then he carefully reached out and hugged her, pulling her close. She tensed, but then the trembling of her body intensified, and finally, she broke down in tears. Her fingers dug into his shirt, and his arm tightened around her shoulders.

"I'm here with you," he whispered. "Always with you."

This wasn't the end. It was pain, but not the end.

Silence.

It was everywhere. It filled the space, stretched like a sticky shroud, as if muffling even the quietest sounds. He sat beside her, holding her cold fingers in his hands, but she didn't respond to his touch. Her gaze was empty, staring into nothingness, as if she was trying to find an answer in the air to why it had happened this way.

He didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to break the silence without causing her more pain. Any words seemed inappropriate, false. "Everything will be fine"—a lie. "We'll get through this"—too simple.

And yet, he had to say something.

He gently ran his hand over her back, feeling the tension in every muscle. She sat motionless, but he felt the storm raging inside her.

"I'm here," he breathed. Just that. No extra words.

She flinched. Slowly turned to him, and he saw her eyes—red, dull, full of emptiness. Then her lips trembled, and she whispered, barely audible:

"I failed you."

He had never felt such pain from someone else's words. As if something fragile and precious had shattered in his chest.

"No," he said sharply, louder than he intended. He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "No. Never. You didn't fail me."

She didn't answer, just lowered her gaze, then buried her forehead in his chest. And only then did he feel her shoulders shake.

He didn't know how to heal this pain. No one did. But he knew he wouldn't leave her alone.

When the tears finally broke through, he didn't pull away. Didn't say everything would be fine. He just held her, stroked her hair, letting her cry.

This pain wouldn't go away immediately. But he would stay by her side. Always.

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Welcome Home, Kento!

♡ featuring: nanami kento x reader

♡ synopsis: nanami can't wait to return home to his wife and kids. little does he know, there's a lot of love waiting for him behind the door.

♡ wc: 2.4k+

♡ tags: nobara and yuji are your children, fanon, domestic fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, salaryman AU

notes: took a break on the capitano fanfic im working on cause domestic kento got me acting unwell i miss him and need him so bad. canon break but idc nobara and yuji are his kids and no one can tell me otherwise. art by getoad on ig! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Nanami Kento’s work seemingly never ended.  

Caught between meetings and printer jams, the small talk he endured with simple one-word answers, and the folders piling on his cold metal desk in a cramped cubicle, he was exhausted. Air conditioners blew frigid in the office, making small accidents unbearable. 

The only warmth he experienced throughout his shifts was the art exhibit on the back wall and a wooden frame, sitting not too far from his grasp. Next to the bulky outdated computer was a picture frame of you, sweating radiance despite the fluorescent wall lights, hair disheveled with tired eyes in your hospital gown. You’re holding a newborn Yuji, chubby with a soft hint of pink fuzz on his head. A one-year-old Nobara chose to nestle next to you through the blood and amniotic fluid sticking to your hands. Somehow smiling—blearily, but still smiling so hard your eyes practically close. 

The scene was not pretty; it burned into his memory, committing to the wrinkles in his brain so that he’d never forget your screams and undying strength. Even the grip on his hand, imprinting the wedding band into his skin when you forced a final push. He never averted his gaze, stroking your wet hair and kissing your throbbing temple; if he could alleviate some of your struggle for a moment, share in your pain for a second, he’d do it ten times over. You’re the mother of his children, after all, his wife and soulmate. 

He met you at a small bakery on the corner of a forgotten street after a double shift. Back turning in knots, cranky as ever with permanently furrowed brows. And when he’d order his favorite pastry—a chocolate eclair—only for it to disappear in the hands of another customer, he was downright irritated. Turning to the offender, the kinks in his muscles suddenly melted at the sight of your apologetic smile. Your apology dissipated in his ears, not managing to reach his cognition as he studied your stunning glow in the dim yellow lighting of that cafe.  

Before you could finish your offer to buy him double, his mouth moved ahead of his mind; “Would you like to sit together?” 

That was forever ago, though. Prior to him falling in love, to your laugh breathing life and color into him once again. To you becoming the soul reason he clocked in every day at a dead-end job he settled for. He was putty in the palm of your hand, but could you blame him? You were his salvation from the bitter, grey world he walked alone for years, and now even the sun felt warmer with you around. 

So, when days become thoroughly tedious such as this one, his eyes tend to wander. Once, twice to his watch, then to the countless drawings from Yuji and Nobara stuck to the cubicle. Yuji and Nobara were two sides of the same coin, regardless of the weekly sibling rivalry where he had to stop them from tearing each other’s hair out. Nanami wasn’t a man who chose sides which usually resulted in him taking both drawings from their art competitions, to the dismay of the sore winners. 

The old Nanami Kento would’ve hunched over the desk, mindlessly typing away past his shift ending, until his buzzing lamp was the sole light left in the office. Currently, he was dying to go home, nearly dreaming of seeing your faces, your “welcome home” as he opened the door. His printed tie is lax around his neck, shirt unbuttoned a little too low with an ankle crossed over the other knee, like nothing matters besides holding you at the end of the day. The digital clock rings, breaking him out of a trance and knocking the pen he’d been fumbling with out of his hands. 

Immediately he starts shoving papers in his briefcase, some crumpling and folding at the edges. He throws his suit jacket on, clocks out with the same vigor and heads for the door. 

“Nanami, wait a second!” his boss hollers from his office. He steps out, and Nanami barely spares him a glance.  

“We’re short-staffed right now, I’ll need you to stay behind-” 

“No.” 

His boss stands dumbfounded, and it takes a few business days for him to register that his demand was denied. He brushes his balding combover and clears his throat, “Excuse me?”   

“I’m going home to my wife.” 

“This isn’t up for discussion-” Suddenly, Nanami shoots a glare that stops him dead in his tracks. His legs are glued to the floor, like the senses of prey in proximity to a vulture. He appears to be his standard nonchalance, but with the way his jaw clenched, and his eyes bore through him, perhaps retracting his words was the best decision for his safety. 

“U-understood. Have a good weekend.” 

The city streets are serene following sundown, a calm breeze picking up rustling leaves that began to fall. He checks his watch again; just in time for dinner. He hurries up the townhouse steps of the brick building and clicks his key into the mahogany door. 

“Ahhh!” 

“Yuji, come here!” 

“Wahhh, black flash!” 

All the lights in the living room and kitchen are on, and blankets are thrown haphazardly around the floor. The television plays an obnoxiously loud cartoon, but it’s evident none of them are watching it based on the army of colorful toys piled on the couch, and a suspicious stuffed wolf plush sitting on the stairs with its head lopsided. An odd lone cookie lays half-eaten on the floor, and the kitchen counters are strewn with crumby flour and sticky batter. The faint aroma of something sweet lingers in the entryway. 

The best part is you, his wife, chasing after Yuji and Nobara in his dirty button up teal shirt with the sleeves rolled up. You’re all dripping in water, trailing sodden footprints around the house. Nobara comes around the kitchen island in a bath robe and towel headband, bunny ears bobbing as she drags a leash toy behind her popping plastic balls of rainbow pigments.  

Yuji, on the other hand, is completely naked minus a comical formation of bubbles around his lower half. He’s chasing her with a toy car foaming with soap and it soars in the air as he laughs and chants sound effects, “bam, black flash!”, pretending to launch it at her. The lot of you are circling the kitchen island, chaotic laughing and shrieking as Nobara’s toy bangs into the stools and cabinets. Just then, a wind-up robot taps Nanami’s foot and falls over. 

“Yuji stop chasing her!”  

“Ahhh!” 

“RAHH!” 

He’s never felt more at home in his life. 

He drops his briefcase, shrugs off his jacket and shoes and joins in. Yuji may be able to evade your grasp, but Nanami was an entirely different beast. You finally manage to intercept Nobara and scoop her in your arms, shaggy robe eclipsing her small cherubic pout. Nanami rushes around the corner and snatches Yuji upside-down, tiny damp feet pressed at his chin with his arms dangling in the air. Amid the chaos you hadn't noticed him, but when your kind eyes meet, a bright smile warms his cheeks, like the first time you met—he's smitten all over again.  

“Daddy!” Nobara screams. 

Yuji squeals and struggles wildly in Nanami’s hold. “I win” he declares. 

“Noo you don’t, not fair!” He tries to escape but Nanami has an iron grip, and you place Nobara on the counter while you get Yuji. He passes him off to you, “Sorry, you’re covered in water now.” He tilts your chin and plants a chaste kiss, skimmed traces of yearning. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve been missing you all day.” 

“Really?” He hates when you ask that, because truthfully, he misses you incessantly. It borders on obsession. The second you leave his sight, he’s wondering when you’ll return, if he could go with you, should it be a family outing, should he follow you? He’ll stir in the thoughts that totally encompass you; you, you, you, until you come back to him. 

“Of course, my love.” Yuji grumbles an annoyed noise and tucks his head in your neck. “Trouble in paradise?” he adds, a tinge of sarcasm. You giggle, brushing the drenched strand of hair from your face, “Yuji really fought the bath today.” 

“Black flash!” he yells, firing his baby fist in the air. Nanami makes a feigned noise of pain to throw his head back and clutch his heart. “C’mon now, let’s finish up” you tell him. As you’re dragging him down the hallway to the bathroom, his defiant wails fade to silence. 

Nanami cleans up the disarray with Nobara’s help. She throws the toys in the toybox, a proud look on her face while Nanami stacks the blankets in a lump on the couch and sweeps the crumbs from the floor. He felt a bit guilty putting a damper on the fun, but winding down the kids for bedtime was most important, and Nobara would gladly change into her dinosaur pajamas if that meant she could spend some time with dad.  

Yuji arrives as a tired, messy-haired but less stinky version of himself, wearing an alien onesie. You’d clearly won the great bath war. 

But a growing scent floods the kitchen, mild smoke emitting from the stove skillet. 

The skillet? 

Shit. 

“Ohh, no no no”, you run to grab a spatula and remove the skillet from the burner. The pancake facing you seems unharmed, perfect even with a nice fluffy texture. You fan the smoke away with a kitchen towel and Nanami approaches you. He looms over the pan, “Pancakes?” 

“Yeah, Yuji wanted pancakes and Nobara wanted chicken nuggets. So, we did both” you say, scraping the underside of it. The crackling of something crispy doesn’t do much to ease your doubts. “Looks good to me-” 

You flip the pancake, and it’s fully burnt.  

Solid black with a thin trail of smoke billowing. You both stare at it in silence. Then you look at each other, and Nanami bursts out laughing. Tears collect at his eyes, and he’s doubled over with his head on your shoulder, a hand around your waist. You sigh in defeat, “Does it still look good to you?” 

“I’ll eat it if it makes you happy.” 

“I’m not trying to kill my husband.” He hums and kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry, I tried to have dinner ready for when you got home. Lost track of time.” 

The last thing he’d want is for you to feel bad about such trivial matters. He hugs you from behind, whispering in your ear, “Don’t worry, it’s enough. Everything you do is enough.” Yuji abruptly hits his leg, and he peers down. “I wanna hug mommy too!” 

“Get in line. She’s my mommy right now” he teases. You giggle when Yuji tries to wedge between your bodies, and Nanami holds his head back like a bull charging at a fence. 

When they’re done eating their chicken nuggets, and he convinces Yuji that celery tastes better than pancakes, you snuggle up for the night. Weekends lasted later into the night, but regardless they had to stay on schedule. It was his favorite part of the week, where you dimmed the lights, he lit the fireplace and crowded on the floor of a striped blanket fort in the middle of the living room. Yuji rested his head on a pillow with his favorite wolf plush while Nobara laid on your stomach. 

“In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf” you start, holding the book with one hand. Nanami always opts to sit outside of the fort. One, because he’s too tall for it. And two, he likes to see your face reading peacefully in the rare tranquility of a hissing fireplace. You were so gentle and nurturing that at times he found it hard to pull himself away from your face, sinking in pure adoration. 

“One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and”, you wind up your hand and tickle Nobara. “Pop! —out of the egg came a tiny and very. Hungry. Caterpillar.” You tap her nose in line with the words.  

Nanami understood why the kids enjoyed your story time over his monotone one. He couldn’t get past the first page before Yuji started to complain and Nobara began to space out. “He started to look for some food” you dance your fingers down her spine like a caterpillar would, and she faintly smiles. 

Yuji normally falls asleep first, snoring like a grown man as he drools into the pillow. Then Nobara will drift quietly, to the point where you barely realize she’s dreaming. Then you, fighting sleep as you gaze up at Nanami, forcing yourself to make conversation in a half-groggy state. Your hair is jumbled and the shirt you stole from the hamper bunches at your waist. Here, he feels fulfilled. Irrevocably whole. 

“How was your day, sweetheart?” you drawl. His heart flutters at the pet name, caressing your face with his thumb. “The usual” he replies, just as soft and tender, “it felt longer today.” 

“Mm? Why?” He picks up on a croak in your voice, a sign you’ll be sleeping soon. “I couldn’t wait to come home.” 

A pleased noise rumbles at the back of your throat. “Let’s go to the beach. It’ll get too cold soon.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Mhm”, you run your hand over his, leaning into his touch, “maybe we could invite Gojo and his kids.” 

“Hell no, that guy’s a nutcase.” You laugh, hushed and weak. He kisses your forehead. “Goodnight, my love.”  

“No, I’m not sleeping yet” you groan in spite of closing your eyes. “Then what are you doing, right now?” 

“Mm. Just resting them.”  

He smirks, aware of what happens right after that. He kisses your nose, then your velvety lips. He can’t shake the fact that he’d found someone like you, someone who’d love him unconditionally, accept his flaws and dry humor and stand by his side under any circumstances. It almost felt undeserved, like that bakery incident should’ve earned him a slap to the face instead of your sweet nature, swelling his heart and pulling him deeper. His only treasures, laid in front of him in a cozy cuddle pile.  

Before he could get up to turn the lights off, a soothing utterance of your voice, words he’d been waiting for since he opened the door. 

“Welcome home, Kento.” 

© mooishbeam - please don't steal, copy, or post my work to other platforms :)

[aviradasa]

Love long lost Pt3

Aaravos x Fem!reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

{Angst} @delusional-mushroom @hubba-hubba1 @jellyfishxxi

Warnings: None that I can think of but I finished writing this as I was having a interesting mental time so I honestly don't think no shit anymore 😭

Masterlist

Link to part 1

Link to part 2

Link to part 4

I stand looking into the broken shards of the mirror, it's only been a couple of hours yet, The burning Mark of my forehead remains, a sigil that emanates a blue glow that burns anything that comes close to it.

We tried removing it, wiping it, erasing it with one of Callum's spells, yet it stayed. I’m about to ask Rayla to lend me her blade so I can cut it off. I want nothing more to do with it, I want to forget what I saw, forget Aaravos, and go home. Wherever that may be.

As I stare at my reflection, And the mirror that Aaravos broke, I can't help but think about those scenes. They were cryptic, disturbing, and yet beautiful. When I woke I had the intention of telling the group what was presented to me in those visions but my voice was caught in my throat. I wish I had known what to say but the words would not bring themselves to me.

“Hey, Y/n” I whip around turning to the voice in surprise, realizing it's just Callum I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh hey, Callum.” I say turning back to the mirror “Did you need something?” I ask him, ever since I woke up I've avoided him, even though the actions were not his own, But those of Aaravos, I still can't bring myself to look at him after he was the last thing I saw before being tormented by those visions, I feel horrible but the back of my mind blames him for even bringing that mirror in the first place if he would have just left it none of this would have happened. But then again we wouldn't know what we were up against if he hadn't. I still can't get those faces out of my mind, I want answers and I think I know who I might have to ask to get them.

“Yeah, I kind of did.” Callum says rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I wanted to check up on you and apologize for what happened earlier.” he tells me taking a couple more steps before sitting on a rock, I nod my head looking at him in one of the broken shards of the mirror before turning to face him.

“It's fine Callum. You didn't have control of yourself, therefore your actions were not yours and I forgive you." I say with a small reassuring smile as I take a seat beside him on the rock. I can’t avoid Him forever. So I might as well forgive him.

He nods his head to me, “It was horrifying not being able to control my body or my voice. It was like I was a puppet with strings around my limbs. I mean I was forced to hurt my friends and my brother, and what he made me do to you.. I’m just really sorry Y/n i just can't say it enough.” he says placing his head in his hands before rubbing his temples in a stressed-out manner,

“ Callum, like I said it's ok I forgive you. You're one of my closest friends. I know you are goodhearted, there's no need to build a case for yourself. I understand completely.” I say patting him on the back a bit in a comforting manner.

For a few moments, we sit like that, before Callum lifts his head to look at me. “Y/n if you don't mind me asking ... What did you see when Aaravos made me use that spell on you?” he asks with a bit of hesitance resting in his tone like he was afraid to even mention that moment that happened but a few hours ago. It's understandable. Everything is still so fresh in our minds, I can remember each word, each movement, hell I can even remember the hue of the colors in the room at the time,And how the light hit them.

Still, I can't help but let out a sigh as the visions flash through my mind, the last scene in particular sticking with me, the sound of the cries and the screams. God they won't leave my mind they haunt me at every moment. I shake my head a bit to hopefully disperse my thoughts, sadly it goes in vain as they stay clear as the night sky that seems to shine particularly bright tonight to my great displeasure.

I lower my gaze to some loose pebbles at our feet as I speak. “ I saw him, Aaravos. But it was different, he was different and he was with a woman in each scene I saw him in. It felt like I was seeing the past.” I tell Callum, returning my gaze to him once more. “What do you mean by scene?” he asks with confusion.

“ you know, like I saw multiple visions.” I explain rolling my foot around on the pebbles

“The first one I saw him in a tavern, hidden in the very back, then this performer showed up. But the scene changed before I got a good look at her. That's when this happened.” I say showing him my now bandaged fingers from when I had clawed at the tavern door. He uncomfortably shifts away from my wounded hands, the image of them being torn up and me clawing on a wooden door making him cringe at the thought.

“Then I finally got a good look at them in the second vision. I recognized the girl by her outfit at first, I had recognized Aaravos by his voice at the tavern so I already knew it was him. In my vision, they were meeting up in the woods, pretty secretly from the looks of it.” I told Callum.

“What kind of secret? Like kidnapper secret or evil ‘Let's destroy the world plans’ secret?’ he asks and I laugh

“ no no, neither it looked like it was more of a lover's way, and that was only confirmed by my third and final vision,” I explained with a grin. It feels good to tell someone about what I saw. I know it wasn't that long ago but ever since I woke up it has been eating me alive, and this mark has been burning.

“ Well, what happened in your third vision?” Callum asks with an intrigued expression.

“Well I woke up in a cave, and then they ran in all torn up, and she started screaming at him, and he wouldn't respond to her until she yelled at him once more and he screamed back and then the vision ended with his slamming his arms into the wall as she cried on the cave floor. I woke up before I could get any more answers.” I explain with a groan. “ It's just none of it makes any sense. I don't understand why I was shown any of that though. It all was so random, none of those things fit together." I say with frustration as I kick one of the pebbles by our feet away to an unknown location in the storm spire.

Callum seems to be in deep thought, in a moment it seems as though a light went off in his brain and he grabs his sketchbook. “ Here just out of curiosity would you describe what Aaravos and the woman looked like?” he asks as he readies his pencil. “ not sure how much help that would be but I suppose I could.” I agree. I can't think of how a drawing of them could help us in any way but I decided I can afford to humor Callum for a little while.

Little time passes as we sit there, as I describe the two people I can see Callum's face shift with concentration. But as I describe the elf woman, his face starts to slowly get more confused and he starts to dart his eyes back and forth between me and the drawing frequently. “ Is something wrong My friend?” I ask abruptly, Callum's head shoots up to look at me then I get back to the drawing and then to me once more. “ Well, nothing's wrong… I guess it's just…” he pauses for a minute before he holds the sketch up next to my face. “ with what you've described to me, it ended up looking like…” he trails off for a moment before pointing to the mirror, I'm able to see my reflection in the broken shards, the drawing is indeed the woman I saw, and yes I thought she looked a little bit like me when I saw her. But seeing her next to me I quickly realized that she did not only look like me, and sound like me. She was me.

She was me, and I didn't know how. These visions were not mine, but they felt so real like they couldn't be anything but a memory and I can't think of a reason Aaravos would fight so hard to show me visions that are not real. Thinking of it now he seemed to know me well, And the way he spoke to me with such personal hatred only confirmed it. But Zubeia had told us all that it's been over a century since Aaravos’s imprisonment, so how could he hate someone he doesn't know?

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by Callum announcing to me he's done with the drawing. I hadn't even noticed it wasn't being held up to my face anymore. As I turn to Callum he shows me the drawing. And it's a replica of both Aaravos and the mysterious woman from my vision.

“ That's exactly right, you did well.” I compliment Him as he smiles a bit, ripping the drawing out of his sketchbook and handing it to me. I thank him as I look at the drawing before an idea pops into my mind. “ Hey Callum, do you know if Queen Zubeia is here at the moment,” I ask him

“ yeah she's here, she's sitting with the other up front. Why?” he asks with a raised eyebrow,

“ I need to talk to her in private, but I don't wish to speak to the others yet. Could you ask her if she would be willing to speak to me?” I ask Callum with a dazed look still deep in thought. He nods his head “ I'll ask her, if you need anything else feel free to ask, I owe you now.” he says with a bit of a chuckle as he leaves the room.

A couple of minutes pass and I hear the heavy steps of the dragon queen entering the room, I turn to face her as she enters, giving her a small bow. “ Queen Zubeia, thank you for accepting to speak with me. I’m sorry I didn't ask you myself. I didn't think it right to talk to the others just yet,” I explained to her. She simply nods her head and sits in her regular spot in the room. “ there's no need to bow to me Y/n, Callum told me about your visions.” she sighs

“When Callum said you wished to speak to me about them I was not surprised I figured you would have a lot of questions. but before I tell you everything you must realize that You were' supposed to know about this just yet.' 'she tells me. I look at her in curiosity, Anxious about what she's going to say. Whenever a story starts with ‘ you weren't supposed to know ‘I can tell it's gonna be bad.

Zubeia meets my gaze and she speaks once more “Before I tell you these Atrocities, are you positive you are ready to handle the burden of this tale, knowing that it could tear the group that Xadia relies on apart?” I nod my head to her “ I must know my queen, I fear if I am left to my speculation I might go mad.” I tell her, “Now please I must have an answer. Who is she?” I say holding up the picture of Aaravos and the woman that Callum drew so that the dragon queen could get a good view.

“I figured that would be your first question. And to answer it I have a story to tell you. It's About A humble performer and the star who corrupted her.” Zubeia says looking up through the hole in the storm spire that shows the night sky, I follow her gaze as I listen to her.

“Centuries ago there was A young, sweet elven girl. She was a dancer who would travel across Xadia With her performance group. At the time Xadia was whole and humans and elves were living together, It was not harmonious as you can assume. But in some places, people were a bit more open-minded. Most of the time these places had quite the night life and the taverns and inns would be packed full of elves and humans combined." She starts by bringing her gaze back down to me as I sit down on a rock to listen.

“Well one night The woman and her group came to perform in one of these taverns, and there she met him.” she continues, “Aaravos?” I ask, and Zubeia nods. “ Yes, child Aaravos. He was quite charming and she couldn't help but be drawn to him, and as time went on and they saw more of each other they developed a friendship, he would go to her shows and teach her magic, and she would tell stories of him and the great ones to people all over Xadia through her songs and stories, and with the magic he taught her the performances became more popular and people would pay to see her and the group perform together With Aaravos always hovering in the background or the shadows.” Zubeia tells me.

‘Well, that explains a lot’ I thought to myself as I looked at the mirror in my peripheral vision. This is all stuff that was blatantly obvious in the story so I struggle a bit to completely tune into the story but I realize i can't afford to lose any of this information.

“ Well one day, The woman told Aaravos to meet her at a certain part of the woods after her show one night. He agreed to do so and met her in the little hidden clearing of the forest, once he got there though he was met with some unexpected words. A confession. The woman told him that during their time together she had gained feelings for him.

She was terrified of how he would react. He was one of the great ones after all, But some of her worry was washed away when he also confessed that he shared her feelings. She was overjoyed of course. But they both knew that if any found out about them, she would be in grave danger. There were stories in the past of the mortal lovers of the mysterious entities who would be burned at the stake, under unknown superstition. So they decided to stay secret.” Zubeia explains with an almost hushed voice.

“ Wait, why would they burn the mortal lovers at the stake, wouldn't that just piss off the great one whose lover they burned?” I ask in confusion. As Zubeia chuckles

“ Well back then like I said it was an unknown superstition, but the reason they had done it before was rumored to be because the other great ones would order mortals to do it to keep the other one in line, Back then they were almost seen as gods. People worshiped them. I’m assuming they thought if one of them was with a mortal being they would lose power and respect so they ordered death to any mortal who could seduce one of them.” Zubeia explained.

“ Anyways, so for a long time, they kept the secret. But one night when they had met in that same clearing once more, The bard from the woman's group found them and ran away in fear. Not because he had seen them together. But because unknowing to Aaravos’s lover he had gained a bounty on his head for the suspected murder of the dragon queen Luna Tenebris, and The queen of lux Aurea Queen Aditi.

unfortunately, Aaravos saw the bard and went to chase after him, but the woman stopped him in confusion, as she trusted the bard he was a good friend of hers for many years. But then the sound of a humongous mob sounded in the distance, making Aaravos grab the woman in her confusion and run through the forest. She knew that something was off when he took her and ran, it was too out of character for him.

As they ran the mob gained on them a bit and she tripped and fell behind. The mob paid her no mind and ran right past her. Unknowing to them Aaravos had teleported himself back to grab her. The rain and mud made it hard to trudge through the forest but eventually, they reached a small cave..”

“Oh, I know this part from my last vision! They got into an argument once they got there cause he wouldn't tell her what was happening.” I chime in with a grin. I know the story is quite grim, but so much has come to light and I can't help but smile as my mind is slowly eased every moment, but it only replaces old questions with new ones I realize as my smile drops a bit.

“Well,” Zubeia says with a sigh. “ He left her in that cave. He left and the next morning She was found lying unconscious on the rocky ground. Turns out that the cave was the nest of an Earth dragon, It had witnessed the whole ordeal and knew that the Archdragons were looking for Aaravos. So it picked him up and brought her to us.” Zubeia says with a frown. Clearing her throat a bit before continuing her voice a bit sad.

“Now Y/n this is part of the story that I can't possibly prepare you for, The actions of me, Avizandum, and the other archdragons, Are unforgivable as they were originally. But especially meeting you and knowing you now Y/n as a friend it breaks me even more now.” Zubeia says grimly. As she bows her head down so shes at my level a bit. “Y/n what I’m going to tell you is going to make you hate us all. But you need to be told as it is crucial information. But before I do, I must explain to you. That the woman in this story is not random…” she says to me with sad eyes.

“She's me isn't she,” I ask, staring at the picture.

“I beg your pardon? Zubeia says in surprise.

“She's me isn't she?” I ask once more, glancing up at her with a blank expression.

“ Unfortunately.”

[irenerose21]

Here is song #3 from TTPD/The Anthology and why it reminds me of OUAT.

Today’s song is So Long, London.

So, this song reminds me of two people from OUAT.

The first person is reminds me off is

Emma, mainly when Emma found out why Neal abandoned her.

The whole bridge perfectly describes this scene and Emma’s reaction!

“And you say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it. My white knuckle dying grip” PERFECTLY describes the bar scene to a tea!

“You say I abandoned the ship”, On one hand, you have Neal, who doesn’t understand that Emma has every right to be made at him. Neal, who never once apologized to Emma in this scene and just wanted to make HER sorry for HIM. Neal, who months later would want a relationship with her again.

Neal never once apologized to anything he did to Emma and also mad it seem like it was her fault in a way and even blamed her for what happened!

“but I was going down with it,” On the other hand, you have Emma, who at just 17 years old literally going to prison because her adult boyfriend let her fall for his crimes. Who would literally find out she was pregnant while she was in prison. Who would end up have to give birth in prison with handcuffs on her feet because of what this man did to her.

“My white knuckle dying grip.” And yet despite what he did to her, she still waited in Tallahassee for 2 years for him.

Another set of lyrics that reminds me of the Bar scene, “And I’m just getting color back into my face. I’m just mad as hell cause I loved this place.” Referring to how it took over 10 years for Emma to start healing from what Neal did to her and right when she was getting happy again, he comes back into her life.

Overall, a lot of the lyrics in So Long, London remind me of the Bar scene, of Emma’s inner thoughts as she fully realizes why Neal abandoned her and why this all happened.

But as I said before, she is not the only character that reminds me of So Long, London.

The other character is

Belle.

Now, I am in the camp that Rumbelle was an extremely toxic relationship and Belle deserved so much better then Rumple. Especially all the BS he pulled in season 5.

Literally, every lyric in So Long, London remains me of Belle and Rumbelle! It is honestly so had pick specific lyrics from this song because they all remind of Rumbelle, that I am only doing the first 4 lyrics of the song for this post!

“I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist.” Belle seeing the light within Rumple and fighting to get the darkness out of him. “I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift” Belle never giving up on Rumple and being a voice of reason for him. “Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” Although she never gave up on him, he continued to slid down into the darkness. The more she fell in love with him, the deeper the darkness had a hold on him. “My spine split from carrying us up the hill” Belle literally giving up her emotional being basically to be a guiding light to this man.

And I could go on! Hell, I could even made a separate post detailing all the lyrics to this song and why it reminds me of Belle and why she deserves better!

RIP Belle, you would have loved You’re Losing Me and So Long, London.

Overall, both of these women deserve so much better and yes, while one got better, the other one didn’t and was stuck in an incredibly toxic relationship.

That is all for today, see you tomorrow!

[thiccpettybitch]

🕸 Bitter Sweet - Ch. 6 Miguel O’hara x F!Reader 🕸

*Aggressively throws fluff in your face and then runs off*

This is for you, didn’t have a good day? Well hopefully this makes it better!

Ref and translations at the bottom😊

Part 7

You sat up in Gwen's bed, your head throbbing. With one hand shielding your eyes from the bright light streaming through the window, you couldn't help but feel like you had swallowed a desert. The bitter taste of bile crept up your throat as you clumsily opened and closed your mouth a few times, hoping to alleviate the dryness.

Gently swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you took a moment to steady yourself and regain your balance. Just as you were gathering your thoughts, a knock on the door caught your attention, and you turned to see Gwen slowly making her way inside.

‘’Good morning,‘’ you said as you clumsily stretched, a tired smile on your face.

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ she said while looking at you, her eyes glossy.

‘’Wha- have you been crying? What’s wrong?’’ you asked, patting the spot next to you on the bed.

Gwen quietly made her way around the bed and settled down next to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. Her whispered apologies filled the air as you held her close, offering comfort and reassurance. After a while, as her sobs subsided, you gently pulled her away from you, allowing her the space to explain what had happened.

"I don't even want to think what could have... y/n, I am so sorry. I should have never..." Gwen's voice trailed off, her gaze fixed on her fumbling hands.

With a gentle smile, you reached out and lovingly squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Gwen. Thank goodness nothing happened, but... I should have been more careful, not gotten so drunk without realizing it."

"That doesn't even make any sense..." Gwen murmured, still lost in her thoughts.

Sinking back against the bed, you rested your hands on your stomach and gazed up at the ceiling. "Maybe it doesn't, but I'm not blaming you, and I won't let you blame yourself either. It was just a mistake..."

As you closed your eyes, the memories of that night started to seep back into your consciousness, sending shivers down your spine. You felt like a spectator as your mind replayed the scene before you—a wall, your fading color, and a creeping hand snaking up your leg. It resembled a poison, draining the life out of you. The familiar bile rising in your throat made you scowl and shudder. Suddenly, you opened your eyes to find Gwen looking down at you with a small, sympathetic smile

"I should probably give my folks a call, just to let them know I'm okay," you said, pushing down the overwhelming emotions that threatened to resurface.

Gwen nodded and handed you your phone, which she had left to charge for you. "Thanks, Gwen," you said, offering her a grateful smile.

"I'll give you some room. Dad's making breakfast- brunch, I guess," she mumbled with an awkward chuckle. You smiled and nodded as you watched her leave the room, giving you a quick and awkward wave before closing the door.

Letting out a deep sigh, you reached over and grabbed your phone. Running a hand through your hair, you unlocked your phone to check your notifications.

---

[E-mail:]  Y/n! we like your style, but it could be better! We are giving you 30% off this summer—

You rolled your eyes and scrolled passed it.

Duolingo: Looks like you forgot your Spanish lesson again. You know what happens now!

You blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes in disbelief. Bringing the screen closer to your face, you re-read the notification, trying to make sense of it.

Duolingo: Looks like you forgot your Spanish lesson again. You know what happens now; Your streak is gone!😔

Oh, okay. That was a personalized and… vaguely threatening notification.

---

You shook your head, dismissing the notifications, and scrolled past them on your phone. With a determined click, you dialed your aunt's number and waited as it rang, your anticipation growing. After a few seconds, you heard the cheerful voice of your aunt on the other end, instantly lifting your spirits.

"Hey aunt May, how are things?" you asked, settling back against the headboard of the bed.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary! But forget about that, I want to hear how you are! Did you have fun? Did you meet any nice boys~?" she asked with an excited yet hushed tone.

A flashback of the previous night flashed in your mind, and you scowled, feeling uneasy. "Uhm..."

Your aunt must have noticed the change in your tone, as worry filled her voice. "Did something happen, y/n? Are you okay?"

You held the phone against your chest, letting out a quiet curse under your breath before, gathering yourself. You brought the phone back to your face and responded, "N-no, no! Nothing like that, aunt May. You know me, though. It's... No. I didn't meet any new boys."

There was a brief pause on the other end before aunt May replied with uncertainty, "Okay..."

With a change in her tone, she asked, "No new ones?"

"Yeah, well—uhm, it's not really why I went. I don't care about boys," you mumbled, trailing off.

"Was the guy you like there?" Aunt May asked, causing you to still, your eyes fixated on a spot in front of you as another vivid flashback flooded your mind.

Miguel with his hands on the creep's head, pushing him against the wall. His grip was so strong that the guy whimpered in pain, desperately trying to free himself. Then Miguel turned around, locking eyes with you in what felt like slow motion. He walked up to you, his warm gaze enveloping you, making you want to wrap your arms around him. He pulled you into his embrace, his hand resting on the small of your back, gently rubbing slow and soothing circles.

"You're safe with me. No one is going to lay a hand on you."

Your cheeks heated up at the memory. "Uh—yeah, yeah! He was...uh, he was definitely there," you responded, stumbling over your words.

"Oh~? You'll have to tell me all about it when you get home!" Aunt May rejoiced.

You were about to respond to your aunt’s excitement when you felt your phone vibrate against your ear. Putting her on speaker, you listened as she seamlessly transitioned to discussing what to make for dinner and the funny antics your uncle had been up to. Meanwhile, your attention shifted to the new notification that had just popped up on your screen.

[Miguel: Feeling hungry?]

Huh?

‘’Oh- oh, yeah? Really? Well, that’s uncle ben for you,’’ you awkwardly responded, as you had only been half listening.

Your aunt's voice carried on in the background as you glanced at the text message, feeling utterly perplexed. Letting out a frustrated swear, you accidentally clicked on the message, unintentionally leaving it on read in the chat.

CRAP!

What did he mean?

Food, clearly!

Well DUH!

You thought to yourself but wait, had you agreed to have lunch together? Was he... asking you out? The memory of the woman from last night, their apparent closeness, crept into your mind, causing a frown to form on your face as you fell into silence, a chilly feeling sweeping through your gut.

"Y/n?" Your aunt's voice snapped you out of your daydreaming.

"Yeah? Sorry, you, uh, cut out for a moment," you lied, feeling a tinge of guilt.

"Oh, well, I was asking if you were on your way back?" she asked, sounding uncertain.

"Uhm, actually aunt May, I think I'll head home later, if that's okay? I kind of want to hang out with Gwen a bit more," you said, waiting anxiously for her response, hoping she would understand.

"Okay, sweetie. Get home before it gets dark though. It's a school day tomorrow after all," your aunt advised, and you agreed. After a bit more conversation, you said your goodbyes and hung up. Staring down at your phone, the sleeve of the shirt you were wearing slipped down your arm, catching your attention.

You looked down, realizing that you were still wearing Miguel's shirt. Pulling up the collar, you slowly inhaled, noticing how it carried his scent. A bright red blush spread across your cheeks as you realized how warm and comfortable it made you feel. His scent had a way of making you blush deeply. However, that comforting feeling slowly drained away, replaced by a sudden realization.

The shirt... Of course, he wants it back!

You shook your head, feeling foolish for not considering it earlier. He had been forced to walk home shirtless yesterday, and you felt like a complete jerk. Not only did he defend you and lend you his shirt, but he also carried you to Gwen's place. You had to make it up to him, and buying him lunch seemed like the least you could do.

Glancing down at your phone, you quickly composed a text message in response, deleting and rewriting it multiple times before finally sending it.

[You: You want to meet up for lunch?]

After a few minutes had gone by, you figured it was a good time to change into a fresh set of clothes while you waited. Thankfully, aunt May had reminded you to bring a change of attire. As you were in the midst of getting dressed, your phone buzzed with a notification. Trying to play it cool, you pretended like you didn't momentarily drop everything and eagerly hopped back onto the bed to read the message.

[Miguel: Yeah. There’s a café on Webber Street. Be there in an hour?]

He’s such a… stiff? Texter. Is that even a word?

[You: Okay, see you then!]

[Miguel: Webber Street, big green sign. Not even you could miss it. Hasta allí.]

[You: I got it!]

You responded with a huff and an eyeroll, a smile slowly spreading on your face.

Jerk.

You quickly gathered your phone and charger, sliding the phone into your pocket and placing the charger in your backpack. As you packed up, you decided to fold up Miguel's shirt and tuck it away in your bag, knowing you would have to bring it home and wash it before returning it to him. With your belongings in tow, you walked out into the living room where Gwen and her father were sitting on the couch, enjoying a late breakfast.

Gwen's father seemed ready to make you a plate, but you raised your hand to stop him, pushing aside the rumbling in your stomach caused by the enticing smell of eggs on toast. Gwen frowned and got up, walking over to you.

"You're leaving?" she said, giving you a look reminiscent of a kicked puppy.

"Yeah, uhm... I kind of have to go," you mumbled, glancing back towards her father and flashing him a small smile.

"Oh. Okay..." Gwen replied, clearly a bit disappointed.

"I'll walk you home then!" she quickly offered.

"No! I mean... no need! I'm kind of..." you leaned in towards her, whispering, "not heading home."

Gwen looked up at you, clearly confused. "What?! Where are you going?" she hissed, grabbing your arm and leading you towards the front door, away from her father's hearing.

Glancing back, you decided to show her the text message from Miguel. She snatched your phone and brought it up to her face, reading it with a swipe up. In response, you snatched it back, giving her a shocked expression.

"Excuse you," you teased with a smirk.

"Sorry..." Gwen sheepishly apologized.

You smiled and gave her a hug, appreciating her willingness to help. She had promised to make up an excuse to her dad in case your aunt or uncle called, and in return, you had switched on your location and promised to keep her updated, just in case. With a wave to Gwen's father, you called out that you were leaving. He looked confused but ultimately waved back.

As you made your way to Webber Street, which happened to be closer to your place than Gwen's, you consciously tried to avoid dwelling on the events of the previous night. Apart from the obvious reasons, you also didn't want to think about the woman you had seen with Miguel. She had a kind and caring demeanor, almost motherly, and it bothered you that you already found yourself liking her. Couldn't someone you liked just date a complete jerk for once? At least then you'd have a valid reason not to like them!

Rounding a corner, you arrived at Webber Street, spotting the café with its prominent green sign. Walking towards it, you held the door open for a woman who was walking out, earning a smile in return. Stepping inside, you were relieved to find that it wasn't too crowded, considering it was a Sunday.

You took a seat in one of the booths along the wall, sliding off your jacket and placing your backpack on the seat next to you, against the wall. Remembering one of your uncle's lessons about keeping your belongings safe, you made sure to keep your accessories on the inside, minimizing the chances of someone snatching them. Pushing the lesson aside, you looked to your side and grabbed a paper menu that was laid on the table. It had a charming design with hand-drawn menu items that looked incredibly inviting. However, you decided to hold off on ordering until Miguel arrived. He should be joining you any minute now.­­

________________________________________________________________

Any…. Minute…. Now….

Prying your eyes away from the never-ending scroll of doom, you reluctantly checked the time and realized that Miguel was already about twenty-five minutes late. Was that normal? Filled with curiosity and a hint of concern, you switched over to a new internet tab and quickly Googled the appropriate etiquette for sending a follow-up text when someone is running late.

‘’How long should I wait for someone who is late, and did not text or call?’’

After a bit of scrolling, your head resting on your hand, you came across various sources suggesting that it could be appropriate to send a follow-up text anywhere between five to fifteen minutes after the agreed-upon meeting time. Letting out a sigh, you decided not to overthink it and opted to send him a text message.

[You: Hey, I’m here. Did you get held up?]

After sending the text a surge of anxiousness washed over you. What if you were in the wrong café, wrong place, wrong damn street! Glancing around, ignoring the dirty looks some of the baristas were shooting you, you caught a glimpse of a street sign. You were definitely in the right place.

‘’Miss?’’

You looked up and locked eyes with one of the baristas, a tall blonde woman who was casually, chewing gum and holding a notepad in her hand.

‘’Hi…?’’ you said unsure of what she wanted.

"You're gonna have to order something if you're gonna keep sitting here," she said, the obnoxious sound of her gum chewing filling the air. You nodded in understanding.

‘’I, uhm—I would but, I’m waiting for someone and don’t want to star without them. Can I just order like a glass of water or something?’’ You asked as you flashed her a small smile.

She eyed you up and down, a hint of judgment evident in the small frown on her face. ‘’You’ve been waiting for someone for like half an hour. You gotta order at least a coffee or something.’’ She said while crossing her arms over her chest.

Actually; it’s been about twenty-five minutes. You turd.

However, upon reflection, you realized that it was probably just a store policy and not her fault. While her approach might have seemed a bit rude, you understood that she was simply doing her job, and you couldn't fault her for that. In the end, you decided to comply and ordered an iced coffee, which turned out to be a delightful concoction of sugar and whipped cream with a hint of coffee. It was undeniably delicious, and you made a mental note to come back to this café again sometime. As you were mid-sip, enjoying the sweet caffeine treat, your phone suddenly buzzed, grabbing your attention. Curiosity piqued, you quickly picked up your phone to check the notification.

[Miguel: ill be roght thrr. Gothol up]

Staring at the screen, the straw slowly slipped out of your mouth, causing a small spill of coffee on the table. You quickly reacted, grabbing a napkin to wipe it up before refocusing your attention on your phone, a sense of confusion clouding your expression.

[You: What??]

You watched as after a few seconds bubbles popped up indicating that he was responding.

And then they disappeared.

Oh, wait! there they are- annnd they’re gone.

What the hell?

Finally, a response appeared on your phone, but as you read the text, your confusion only deepened.

[Miguel: B thrr inaminit]

You shook your head, trying to make sense of it, but the confusion lingered. Deciding to set it aside for the moment, you returned to mindlessly scrolling through social media, hoping to distract yourself from the bizarre message.

---

Checking the time and realizing that Miguel was now forty minutes late, frustration and disappointment welled up inside you. Pulling up his text, you were prepared to let him know that you were leaving. If this was some kind of elaborate prank or punishment for yesterday, it was certainly not funny. There was no reason to waste your time and get your hopes up. Negative thoughts flooded your mind, considering the possibility that he and his girlfriend were playing a cruel prank on you, laughing at your expense. Perhaps his strange texts were a result of his hands being otherwise occupied.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and pushed aside all the negative and toxic thoughts. That wasn't like Miguel, or at least you hoped it wasn't. Despite not having known him for very long, you believed you had a better sense of his character than to expect him to do something like that.

However, something caught your attention in the corner of your eye. A crowd of people had gathered around the window next to the café. Curiosity piqued, you observed as more and more people joined the crowd. Intrigued, you got up from your seat and walked over to the door, peering outside. Other café-goers joined you, and together you discovered that people were gathering around the window to watch the televisions inside, broadcasting the local news. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to join the rest of the crowd and see what had captured their attention.

"My name is Zuri Adekunle, reporting live from the iconic Times Square, where chaos erupted moments ago in a heart-pounding car chase involving the police, attempted robbers, and our beloved friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"

You watched; eyes glued to the screen as it showed previous live footage of the chase happening.

‘’Unfortunately, we did not manage to get an interview from Spider-Man himself, however we do have with us today, Captain of the NYPD; George Stacy.’’

You watched as Gwens father spoke, a deep frown on his face as he went on to explain the situation and how Spider-Mans intervening, was not wanted. How instead of celebrating him you should celebrate the men and woman who serve every day, putting their lives on the line for the city and it’s proud citizens.

As you turned around, heading back to the café to retrieve your belongings, you suddenly caught sight of Miguel rounding the corner. His disheveled appearance and uneasy demeanor were immediately noticeable. He was breathing heavily as he jogged up to the door, but when he spotted you, he stopped abruptly. Running a hand through his hair, he cleared his throat, his expression a mix of relief and apprehension.

‘’¡Yo! Sorry for being late.’’ He says as he walks up to you, flashing you a smile.

Looking up at Miguel, a perplexed expression evident on your face, you furrowed your eyebrows deeply. In response, he flashed you another smile and reached out to grab the door, holding it open for you. With a gentle hand on your back, he guided you back into the café, silently urging you to follow him.

"You're really late—did you just come out from that alley?" you asked, your head slightly tilted as you tried to catch a glimpse into the alley, a look of confusion etched on your face.

"Yeah, I know. I took a shortcut through there. My bad," he mumbled, gently pushing you inside the café.

You observed Miguel as he dropped down on the couch, one arm resting on the backrest and one leg propped up on the couch. He let out a deep breath and moved his head from side to side, audibly hearing his neck crack.

"Geez... You... good?" you asked, concern lacing your words as you took a seat.

Miguel glanced up, momentarily caught off guard. "Hm? Oh!" He straightened up, running another hand through his hair and adjusting his hoodie. "Yeah, yeah! I ended up having to run a few blocks, so... just needed a minute to catch my breath."

Your eyes widened as you connected the dots. "Oh! You must have gotten caught up with the whole car chase!" you exclaimed, watching him curiously.

"HUH?! Uh, no, no. Why would you think that?" he responded, his face scrunched up in confusion and unease.

"Well... I mean, I just saw it on the news. They must have shut down a few streets. Did you not— is that not why you're late?’’ You questioned, a mix of confusion and suspicion evident on your face.

"Oh... yeah, I guess you could put it like that..." Miguel trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

You continued to study him, your expression filled with a mix of confusion and suspicion. Why was he acting like this? And why was he smiling so much? It was so unlike him! Finally, he looked at you, his calm and unbothered demeanor returning. He scanned you from head to toe before shaking his head in confusion.

"What are you staring at?" he asked, his deep tone remaining unchanged.

"I—YOU!" you exclaimed, causing a few patrons to glance over at your table. Realizing the attention you drew, you offered a small apologetic smile to the onlookers.

Miguel raised one of his dark eyebrows, his gaze lingering on you, and you couldn't help but be reminded of just how handsome he was without even trying. With a small frown, you forced yourself to look away. "Why am I here?" you asked, avoiding direct eye contact. "If it's about the shirt, I'll have it washed and give it back to you," you mumbled, glancing down at your hands.

"The shirt? Oh. That's fine. Whatever you want," Miguel replied nonchalantly, shrugging.

"Did you order already?" he asked casually, his eyes widening as he glanced at the menu.

You slowly turned your head to look at him, a cartoonish sound effect of concrete scraping playing in your mind. However, in reality, there was only silence.

"Miguel..." you began, your eyebrows furrowing.

"Hm?" he responded, not looking up from the menu.

"Why. Am. I. here?" you asked, a faint look of annoyance crossing your face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, glancing up at you.

"If not for the shirt, why am I here? Why did you ask me to meet you here?" you inquired, crossing your arms over your chest.

"To... eat?" he replied, his tone uncertain, but managing to wear an expression that suggested you were the one missing something.

"To eat??" you repeated incredulously. Then it hit you. "Did you... ask me to come here as... as you asking me out?" you asked, staring at him, realization dawning upon you.

You watched as Miguel slowly straightened up, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat. His expression was unreadable as he gazed down at you. Even with a table between you, he still seemed to tower over you.

"Me being late... has not made this the best first date, I guess," he mumbled, averting his gaze.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

"I see," you said, trying to keep a straight face.

"If you want to leave, I understand."

"I...uh...no, no, I do not. I just... didn't realize it was a date, is all," you stammered, feeling a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

He looked at you with a perplexed expression. "What? Why else would I ask you to come here?"

"I don't know!" you blurted out, feeling a bit flustered.

Miguel let out a sigh, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dios, dame fuerzas," he mumbled to himself before turning back to you, taking a deep breath. "I am sorry for being late. Something cam up and It was… unavoidable."

You offered a smile in response. "It's okay."

He nodded slowly, his eyes wandering over your figure before returning to your face. "How are you feeling?"

Frowning, you looked down at your hands, fiddling with your nails. You didn't want to dwell on that right now. But speaking of last night... wasn't he there with his girlfriend? You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should bring it up.

"Don't you already have a girlfriend?" you finally asked, raising your gaze to meet his.

His eyebrows practically shot up to his hairline, showing his shock. "What? No! Of course not. Why would you ask that?"

"The woman from last night," you replied, glancing between your hands on the table and his face.

After a moment of thought, a look of realization and amusement crossed his features. "You mean Jess? The girl with the yellow glasses?"

You nodded slowly, waiting for his response.

He shook his head and leaned back in his seat. "She's just an old friend. She has a boyfriend, and they live together."

Oh~

"Oh..." you replied, glancing up at him. The way he stared at you made your cheeks heat up a bit. "I just...you were there with her, so I just kind of assumed..."

"I left with you, didn't I?" he interrupted, his eyes locking with yours in an almost smoldering gaze.

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he flirting? The thought sent a rush of excitement through you, evident in the slight blush on your cheeks. As if he could read your mind, he let out a short, deep laugh, shaking his head before looking away and then back at you.

The two of you proceeded to order your food, and the waitress nearly choked on her gum when she saw Miguel sitting in front of you. She gave you a surprised look followed by a suggestive smile, causing your cheeks to redden even more, and you had to look away to regain your composure.

As you engaged in conversation, time seemed to pass quickly, and you watched the day slowly fade away outside the window. Checking your phone, you remembered to text Gwen and let her know that everything was okay. However, you noticed that it was getting dark outside.

Suddenly, Miguel's demeanor changed. He became rigid, patting down his sides and running his hands through every pocket before letting out a deep sigh. "Gracias a Dios," he muttered to himself, turning his gaze to you. You looked at him, giving him a small smile, slightly confused.

Miguel extended his hand towards you, waiting for you to place your hand in his. Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. He gently turned your wrist over, using both hands to slide something onto it, his touch soft and delicate.

"It is called a Pulsera de Hilo," he said, gently tightening it against your wrist. "Something to smile at for a change." He teased, running his thumb over your knuckles before pulling away.

You couldn't help but miss his touch already, but you pulled your wrist back and inspected the braided bracelet now adorning it. It was a beautiful combination of dark blue and red threads.

"Did you make this?" you asked, looking up at Miguel. He simply shrugged, leaning back in his seat and watching you.

"It's beautiful, thank you!" you exclaimed, smiling lovingly at him. If you squinted, you could have sworn you saw a light blush on his cheeks before he looked away, finishing his drink.

You spent another half hour just hanging out and talking, savoring each other's company. Eventually, the bitter realization that it was time for you to head home set in. Walking together, joking and asking questions, you found yourselves at the crossroad where you had first encountered each other on your empanada adventure.

You stopped, turning around to face him, and smiled up at him. "Thank you for today. I had a really good time," you said genuinely.

Miguel shrugged but flashed you a small smile. He stared at you for a moment, and you mirrored his gaze, the silence growing slightly awkward. "Was there something else?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

You shook your head, indicating there was nothing else on your mind. He rolled his eyes playfully and motioned for you to keep walking. "I am walking you home, dummy. Vámonos," he said.

You continued walking, on the verge of rolling your eyes at his playful remark, when you felt his fingers intertwine with yours as he took your hand in his. Glancing up at him, you saw that he was focused ahead, his expression remaining unchanged. Your heart started pounding in your chest, and another blush spread across your face.

·  Hasta allí – see you there.

· Dios, dame fuerzas - God, give me strength

· Gracias a Dios – Thank god

· Tontita – dummy

[a-student-out-of-time]

I actually remember seeing that someone called Mikan a manipulative person who end up be nurse so she could make patients weak and dependent on her... Is this true?

//This person is wrong about everything and here's why.

//I've actually had this same discussion with Poi before, and I'll repeat the conclusions we came to.

Mikan is not a manipulator, an abuser or a yandere.

//And louder for everyone in the back:

Mikan is not a manipulator, an abuser or a yandere.

//Are we clear on that? Good, now I'll tell you why.

//Whenever this negative interpretation of her character shows up, it's always because people think about the standout examples of her worst traits in isolation and jump to the worst possible conclusions about her as a result:

//Yeah, if you look at any of these on their own, it sounds bad, but that's not how you get a complete look at a character.

//For one, that scene in Island Mode? It's immediately followed up by this:

//Mikan Tsumiki is one of the most interesting and complicated characters in Danganronpa, and that's the reason why she's my favorite.

//See, Mikan's behavior is explained through one simple fact. It's not that she was abused and bullied throughout childhood, it's why it happened at all.

//The idea that Mikan is only trying to control people or that she has a self-serving victim complex are rooted in a very malicious interpretation of her actions, when these two scenes together showcase the most important core motivation she has.

//Mikan is afraid of being forgotten/ignored. I'd go so far as to say she has a real condition called Athazagoraphobia.

//This already in relation to PTSD and feelings of low self-esteem.

//With this in mind, it perfectly describes all of Mikan's actions and responses to her situation. She's desperately afraid of being ignored or forgotten about by others, which lead to her allowing herself to be abused throughout her early life. I've had my interpretations as to why, but whatever abusive environment she grew up in left her with an actual phobia likely related to neglect or exclusion.

//It's probably why Mikan is constantly asking to be forgiven, because she believes that not being forgiven meets that people are going to ignore, exclude or reject her.

//It's also why she finds herself in "compromising positions" so often. To her, being hurt, humiliated or leered at was still a better than people ignoring her. We have a bad habit of framing attention-seeking behavior in a purely negative light and never ask what drives people to do it.

//And that brings us to why she became a nurse in the first place. Mikan was hurt so often and people refused to help her, so she had to learn how to treat her own wounds, which is how she became a nurse.

//Think about everything I've talked about so far and apply it to this situation. Mikan's realization isn't about a desire for power and domination over others, it's about a desperate craving for acknowledgement. To be in a position where she can't be ignored.

//The reason I say Mikan doesn't have a victim complex is because, outside of her rants in Chapter 3, she only ever apologizes and tries to make sure people aren't mad at her. Real victim complexes are about people framing themselves as the biggest sufferers in any given situation and why they deserve special treatment, which Mikan never does. Anything she says in the third trial is colored by her interactions with Junko, so they should really be taken with a grain of salt.

//But she never fishes for compliments or seeks sympathy for her situation, she doesn't lash out at other people regularly, she doesn't actively blame anyone, she doesn't make up scapegoats, and she doesn't find new things to complain about. Everything she says about herself is very earnest and always very negative, because that's how she sees herself.

//That's not a victim complex, that's bottom-tier self-esteem. Frankly, and I say this because I also enjoy her as a character, but Toko is a better example of someone with a victim complex than her ^^;

//Instead, Mikan puts her own fear and insecurity at the center of her actions. She worries that she's the problem, and that she needs to have people acknowledge her in some manner or else they'll ignore her and forget about her. To her, that's a failing on her part or a punishment for not being good enough.

//It's caused her to develop this perspective where people are either acknowledging her, and that's good, or they're ignoring her, and that's bad. Rather than seeking power, Mikan seems more like she's trying to be a servant and prove that she's useful, thus worthy of attention. She doesn't really grasp that people not acknowledging her doesn't mean they hate her, and that she only ever defines herself based on how other people view her.

//Hajime's response at the end of her FTEs is actually a very fitting rebuttal.

//Does that mean she's done nothing wrong? Of course not. Her attitude has had negative consequences and, yes, it's led to her making bad decisions. However, that doesn't equate to her being manipulative and abusive, it means she's someone who needs to understand that relationships can be built outside of the cycle of acknowledgement and neglect that she's grown accustomed to.

//Bad actions don't equate to someone being a bad person, and the role of psychological harm in those actions shouldn't be ignored or a cause for dismissing them as people completely.

//And this feels like I'm only scratching the surface of her as a character, because there's so much else I could say, but I think I've made my point clear with this much.

//Mikan is one of DR's best characters and I want more people to fucking acknowledge that.

[cryptid-writer]

More fighter izuku scenes in no particular order, and from several in progress pieces I'm working on for the AU.

Typical warnings for fighting, underaged drinking/substance use, classism, systematic discrimination, implied child death

Bonus headshot I did of Izuku

He's still running with the neighborhood. They all learn the same way, brawling in the streets. They tussle like feral cats, hissing and spitting, it is graceless and dirty. But they'll never survive by playing fair in a world where the odds are stacked against them. The neighborhood teens celebrate his return to fighting by setting dumpsters on fire. They all get their favorite snacks and eat in the empty parking lot next to Suzuki's corner store afterwards, and then someone mentions they have fire crackers, and suddenly they're running through the streets outside the neighborhood chucking fire at each other. Izuku finds himself howling in joy, surrounded by the hyena calls of his fellow compatriots and co-conspirators. His boys are right there beside him, grinning and celebrating with just as much joy as him. It ends in a big brawl and a bonfire, and Izuku knows deeper than ever that he wouldn't trade this for the world. Maybe that's selfish of him, but he finds he doesn't care.

---

Let it be on record that Izuku isn't nice, but he cares. His boys will say he's kind. Ms. Tamayo will say he's a hellion of a kid, but he's dependable. Mr. Shin will say Izuku is a protector at heart who rages for the people against discrimination. Izuku belongs to a neighborhood born of ash and dirt and blood, he is stained with the same colors as them. The neighbors will say he is another lost kid they welcomed home with open arms. Grandmama Yumi will say he helped fill her kitchen with children she could pass on her recipes to. Kids will say he tutors them because their teachers failed them, that he taught them to fight so they might survive longer than him. Izuku is going to do whatever it takes so that maybe one day the neighborhood will no longer hang too large shoes that should still be on small feet. Will no longer have to hold candlelight vigils for children the rest of the world forgot. He doesn't want them to turn out like him, broken and burning and raw. He may not have been born here, but he's welcomed home just the same. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb after all.

---

Izuku gets 1312 tattooed on his collarbone after his second arrest leaves him more pissed off and burning brighter than ever. Eraserhead and Tsukauchi have no right to tell him he's at fault, that he should be a kid, that he can't be on his own. Tell him he shouldn't have fought Katsuki because now his career is potentially at risk. Please, tell him what fucking career outside the pits will welcome anyone who looks like him. Maybe in America, but not in Japan where his appearance generally makes him taboo. That's if they look past the damning “NULL” stamped in big red letters on his ID. The quirkless teenager is not a vessel for their good intent. He's a stray dog on the streets, an aggressive one at that who snaps and snarls at the people who aren't his. A broken bottle boy with a sharp tongue and sharper teeth and even sharper edges. Izuku is the supernova and the storm, lightning blood and fire rage. Dripping with the venom ichor of some angry-bitter thing inhabiting a hollowed out body. Those with quirks seem quick to forget that. They see his display and tell him he needs to apologize for having been made this way by their hands, for not simply laying down and dying. Admonish him for being angry and throwing stones at a regime with guns and ammunition and bombs. Then blame him for ever having existed at all. He and his boys have a party, and it is raw and burning. The angry, dead, and destitute neighborhood teens join them in drinking and smashing glass bottles and brawling under the light of street lamps. Tempers flare and grudges are dealt with on the asphalt. They snarl and fight like the street dogs they are, burned baked raw. They take their anger out on each other and leave the remaining rage behind in the ring. They decorate each other with bruises and blood, roll in the glass shards and grin all the while. (Ken isn't thrilled about sewing them up and pulling glass shards out of them later but the underground doctor understands. They did the same shit after all.)

---

“From what Inko was saying, Izuku has been out on the streets since he was thirteen. He was fighting before that. He's had to fight his entire life brat, it just seems he finally caught fire.” Katsuki thinks back to every sign of smoke he's ever brushed off when it comes to Deku and disagrees. “No. He's always been burning, we all just ignored it.” His mother sighs, far more solemn than he expected she could be. An unusually gentle hand just rests on his head, carding through blond locks softly. It's jarring. “Listen kiddo, you and Izuku come by it honestly. Fire is your birthright, you just manifest it differently. Your grandmother and I are the exact same way as you, the blaze that draws attention. The fire in city limits, “Inko and Izuku are far more dangerous. The fire unnoticed until it's far too late, theirs is a back draft. Calm in appearance until they explode.”

[ellay-gee]

If I were on the writing team for Lone Star for the upcoming season (assuming it starts in August/September)

Owen gets some new neighbors and they get competitive and he and Matteo engage in decorating wars with them for Halloween and Xmas--Halloween's ends in Matteo talking Owen into TPing the neighbor's house

Marjan moves forward with her new beau, and they take a holiday to take him to meet her parents, who are still miffed over her ex, but Joe sets them straight (they seem supportive of her in general, so not like an overtly mean way, just some comments and passive-aggression)

Matteo talks to Owen about wanting to move in with Nancy, and Owen offers for them to both live with him, however Nancy is not fully down for that (would love a few scenes of morning times at the place where she has stayed the night and we get some scenes abt how it's probably not a great idea they all live together, but of course Owen is oblivious) and they do eventually move in together--preferably toward the thanksgiving time and they host a friendsgiving/housewarming for the crew

Paul and Asha start getting more serious, but an old flame of hers comes back to rock the boat (they would stay together bc they are cute together and he just needs to work through any remaining insecurities about their relationship). Later we see Asha get jealous over another woman hitting on Paul and they can have a very cute interaction abt how they're both crazy for each other

I want to give Nancy something very fun, so let's have her and Matteo out to lunch and they overhear some actors running lines (unlike in this post, it would be previously established that a new weewoo show is starting production in Austin--can even be meta about it and talk abt how most of these shows are filmed in LA) and everything they're saying medical-wise is inaccurate and she "well actually"s herself into a consulting position. One of the actors gets a crush and Matteo gets jelly, but she's not interested in the new person so they just strengthen their bond

Grace will find another case she wants to solve herself (details are fuzzy) and she actually works out the details with Wyatt, and his mom (see below) much to Judd's chagrin. (I love when Grace does stuff outside of the call center and we need more of it)

Judd goes to "daddy and me" ballet classes with Charlie and it's fricking adorable and also continues his work with Wyatt, whose mom has moved to town in order to help out with him and his new baby. Maybe we get to see him and his girl get married in the backyard and then they move out by xmas, which we will then get some melancholy and empty-house syndrome once they're gone to be healed when they all spend xmas together

Now for the meaty part that will make us all feral

Carlos has been working on his dad's case...maybe he has actually decided to become a ranger to honor him/investigate his murder. Maybe something has come to light that makes him suspect that someone in the organization had something to do with it

TK is frustrated but supportive--Carlos is hiding some of the details from him and pretending things are fine, but he's not dumb and sees what's going on

They have a small fight and TK blames himself for it, so he decides to make Carlos something special--it's Halloween and his hubby will be working late but he has the night off and plans to hand out candy and do some baking. However, he's barely in the door after running to the grocery when the bell rings and he turns around to open it and let the kids know he needs a sec to get the candy out of the bags, but it's not kids and now we as the audience are in for a whumpy treat

Carlos gets home late, maybe he hasn't heard from TK in a while and thinks he's still mad so he goes home, ready to apologize (perhaps he's had a talk with his mom about it and realizes that his obsession is doing more harm than good). Outside the door, he steps into something sticky and there's a weird-colored puddle on the ground, coming from inside. He opens the door to find that it's icecream and then looks up and the entire place is in shambles and TK is nowhere to be found...though some of his blood is

He's narrowed his dad's murder down to three suspects and one of them has his husband...and starts sending disturbing messages/pics/vids (this arc would go on for a few eps, perhaps this is what Grace and Wyatt are assisting with)

They do rescue him, but I'm currently on the fence on if Carlos offs his captors or not; like he'd be justified and cleared, but he would know that he could have had a different resolution, but after seeing the state TK was in, lost his shit. Guilt ensues. I guess I might be less on the fence than I thought

The attack/kidnapping doesn't necessarily have to be the resolution of Gabriel's death, either-we could see that go into the next season, which would feed into the below idea

Some heavy damage has been done and Carlos feels incredibly guilty abt it and it's implied through the last few episodes that he has started drinking a little more than usual, which could lead us into the following season having an addiction arc, which would spell trouble in paradise for our boys. It could even be perceived and not full-on, like TK nips that shit in the bud when it becomes too much

anyway, just some thoughts. (I'm sure we can all tell what fic ideas I have rolling around the ol' noggin)

What does everyone else want to see?

[litsnobconfessions]

A Year of Animation Day 34: LoK S2E9-10

Date: February 3, 2025

Day: 34

Content Watched: The Legend of Korra, Season 2, Episodes 9-10

Year: 2012-2014

Rating: TV-PG

Run Time: 46 minutes

I said in my last review that Korra hit its stride with "Beginnings" and it keeps it up in "A New Spiritual Age," which I also like, of course, because it has a great title. I know one of the videos I found on ATLA said one of the good things about the animation is its lack of saturated colors, which gets blasted to smithereens here, but I think the sudden bright pop of color is perfect for the spirit world. I love the scene where Jinora and Korra are entering the spirit world and also the whole chase sequence in the spirit world, especially when they are in the river. We also get more of the staticky animation we had in "Beginnings."

I don't have much to say about "The Guide," which feels more like a transition episode than anything else. We introduce Jinora's relationship to the spirits and raise the stakes with Mako, but mostly it's covering some important plot points to get us to the ending. I do appreciate Korra's apology to Tenzin, however, as well as Tenzin's insistence that Korra is not to blame, but Unalaq. And I like the detail of the Fire Ferrets poster on the wall in Mako's apartment.

As I said before, "A New Spiritual Age" has a great title, seeing as Korra becomes baby Korra in the spirit world. But more importantly, we see the return of Uncle Iroh, and can I just say? I love that he has decided to live out his afterlife in the spirit world, playing pai sho and drinking tea made in Avatar Wan's teapot. This is what I hope for when I die. That I get to go to the spirit world and have tea parties with Uncle Iroh.

As always, Uncle Iroh is dispensing great wisdom. I don't know if he got wiser in the spirit world, if they had to cram more Iroh into this episode because they knew there would be less of him over the course of the series, or if he's always been this way and I just didn't notice. Here are my favorite lines from this episode:

"In the spirit world, your emotions become your reality, especially for the Avatar."

Even in the material world, you will find that if you look for the light, you can often find it. But if you look for the dark, that is all you will ever see.

Sometimes, the best way to solve your own problems is to help someone else

You have light and peace inside of you. If you let it out, you can change the world around you.

Many things that seem threatening in the dark become welcoming when we shine a light on them.

[gojoidyll]

Wahh, thank you for feeding me, as always you ate, slayed, and left no crumbs.

It's theory timeee:

I'm super suspicious abt this specific line in chap 13

Like, he didn't say yes but didn't say no either. It means...he was there for smth else. Just like how he answered the question of how they met with a

"I met you at your father's palace and I knew you were the one"

I mean it's not a lie but it's not completely true either. Sly fucker just convenient left out the fact that she was actually a spoil of war, he threw hands with her dad and won. Hm...

I think he was actually there to investigate about sunday. I mean, the palace is his domain, no? He must know whatever is going on in his territory.

.....................

Personally, I think jing yuan doesn't let any maid mark him or bite. That privilege is for his princess. So definitely anyone who does that is finding their heads on a chopping board

I think during the dinner scene, it would be great if y/n gave him a hickey splat on the neck. Literally in front of everyone.

I imagine Blade being there and his jaw dropping. The maid that was flirting with him holding the water pitcher too tightly. Ooh...hehe

Or something intimate, like when she's combing through his hair and fishing out tons of sparrows, she "couldn't resist" giving a bite. Brownie points if she acts embarrassed or shy.

Do you think au! Jing yuan would be interested in collars? I mean...🤭🤭🤭 he has lots of pets, yea? Maybe a collar of his favorite color in her, red yellow brown(?) With his initials on the underside...😋😋😋

I also imagined him not to be too degrading, maybe light spanking and hair pulling, but nothing crazy unless... his princess asked for it. 😉😉

.....................

For the matter of bladie...by Sunday telling her befriend him, I don't think he meant threatened, but that's what I would personally do.

Maybe we can switch targets to dhil? He seems to be the one who first proposed the deal between Blade and himself.

I would love love love to give blade some of his own medicine since he threatened her in the very first amnesia attempt. Honestly, blade was bluffing so hard w that one. Like mfker who gonna believe you over an innocent princess with amnesia??

Not only does he threaten y/n, but he also gets her caught??? Boy, u better do some deep apologizing.

.....................

I'm theorizing of a way on how you'll introduce fei fei. I'm thinking of jing yuan throwing a celebratory New years banquet and an assassin from sanctus Medicus tryna assassinate y/n, but the dashigly hot fei fei swoops in and saves her. 🫣🫣

.....................

I imagine jiaoqiu being the palace temporary head chef for the time fei fei and her 2 retainers are visiting the capital(?) Luofu?

I think his cuisine style is inspired by hunan Chinese style since hunan cuisine is stir-frys with lots of chilies. Very yummy, highly recommended going to a hunan restaurant.

Maybe making y/n a new dessert whenever she asks for it and making her a taste test like spoon-feeding her in front of jing yuan?

80% rate of death for jiaoqiu but maybe 50% since he's fei xiao's retainer and doctor.

Literally thinking about how he would make all of y/n's comfort foods 😊.

.....................

Maybe in the breakfast banquet of chap 14, y/n could ask to share a room with yuan? It would

1. Sell that she really forgot everything and love him

2. A chance to search through his room and yoink the key. Might be a bit dangerous, which is why i would pin the blame on the most jealous looking maid. Oh yeah, it's big brain time.

Step 1: pick out he most jealous clingy looking maid

Step 2: Bribe one of the more money lacking guards or other maids who have been sort of bullied? Jewels would be amazing and I imagine y/n has plenty

Step 3: Have them plant false letters of using said jealous maid to break into yuan's room. Making sure the timing matches of when they find the damning evidence and steal the key is VERY CRUCIAL.

step 4: Enjoy the results as you have the key, and a metaphorical load is lifted off your shoulders, and a literal load is lifted of the jealous maid's. 💀💀💀

Step 5: (optional) strike a deal with dhil

OR

Step 5: ask papa y/n for the 2nd half of the key

.....................

I have no idea what the keys are for but if dhil and blade want them, they must be important.

.....................

Phew, congrats if you made it to the end!!! I tried dividing up my rants to make it easier to read. Any thoughts?

As usual stay hydrated and healthy 🥰🥰🥰

LOL! Jing Yuan i feel is very sly like that much like how in canon he doesn't tell the astral express everything, it's always yanqing or someone else letting us in on what he's planning.

What exactly he was doing. Well, that's for latter heh

-

I can definitely see a jealous maid trying one day to mark him 💀 i guess she'll be resting in pieces though...

LMAO!! XD she is a princess so marking him up anywhere within jy's big ass castle would be a free for all for her 💯

Maids everywhere will be both flabbergasted and jealous

I think au! Jy would be afraid to try out collars 👀

-

😭 blade just getting thrown in the mud! Lmao

I think he needs a redemption arc... maybe he'll be assisting the princess in some way sharp or form soon

-

Feixiao would definitely save the day and take the spotlight from jing yuan lol XD especially with something like that and how fast she is

I can see her teasing jy and telling him how slow he is 🤭 all while holding the princess in her arms

-

Jing yuan wouldnt like jiaoqiu at all if he spoon fed y/n everything XD

Jy would 💯 be jealous and probably try to take over the whole thing, or maybe hover around y/n while giving jiaoqiu a threatening smile lol

-

Before she goes for the key, I think she should try to get blade as an ally first 🤔 (maybe, it depends on how confident y/n is she did die a few times already after all)

And yes, the keys are super important!!

-

XD i had no trouble reading it! But I also had no trouble reading the other way you write either, so you can do it which ever way is best for you ^-^

[inkskinned]

he had to hurt her like that, look at the cinema he made. did he? how do you know? the ends justify the means, huh. a woman could never actually act this well, it had to be real, a snuff film. yes, she was hired for her talent - but pain will make the talent brighter, right.

he is not alone. there are men around him who think like this. who choose actresses they can manipulate, exert power over. who write scripts that demand the pain be felt. she must hurt to uphold the message.

(an aside. author's note, i guess. in poetry, when the words cannot hold themselves up, we actually blame the writers. it shouldn't matter who speaks the literature. the words should carry their own weight. be their own scaffolding.)

the men in the room all applaud each other for doing less. they say they push boundaries. they're leaders in their field. they ask the hard questions.

when they get your resume, they put it into a pile that they will put into a trashcan. when they get your screenplay, they will use it as a coaster. when they build their museums, they will have a disjointed room dedicated to "repairing" the ways that women and people of color have been eradicated from "fine arts". it will be self-effacing. we may have overlooked some artists, they apologize. but really it's not our fault that white men make better art. (those men and their works are in permanent displays. for more on this, see: the way that he laughs at your work will make you sick to your teeth). in six weeks, their apology will be scrubbed and the room will be scrubbed and all the paintings will go back into storage.

they know they are right. sure, okay. maybe we have had less opportunities. but what would we have done with them? not something like this. it took a man to do this. okay, okay. it was deranged, we can all agree about it. but look at the product.

in your life, when you wake up, isn't it grand. if they made a museum for people like us, it would be a cycle of empty frames. of ruined videos. of songs with a voicecrack. all the little plaques reading some variation of a theme. here is where my work would stand if someone like me could actually get published in this fucking industry. here is the work i tried to make, before my agency was stripped from me. here is the placeholder of my dreams, but i could not afford them in this society.

if you keep walking, out in the greenhouse out back, the whole world is full of color. every fabric and fortuneteller and feverdream we spat out in despite. centuries of brightness, of novelty, of exploration. of talent, of wisdom, of creativity.

there is only one sign here in this alexandrian library. the sign acts like an epitaph. you already know what it says, don't you. THIS ISN'T ART, it tells you.

the blankets. the chef-level 5-course meals. the carefully-colored journal pages. the abandoned works-in-progress. the library of fanfiction. the margin drawings. somewhere in there, an actress makes a face, and you think - oh shit! she's really broken! but then she smiles at you, winking. she could do it, you know. she could always act like a starbeam. it's just that his name is the one scrolling at the bottom. she hadn't wanted to undress for him. she goes home and gets forgotten. in our museum, another blank frame goes up on the wall.

they'll give him an award, looking to the camera with almost an apology. he will laugh ruefully. nobody will do anything. little white strings will drip from his fingers. young boys in film studies will continue to chainsmoke while explaining how beautiful it is that there's violence in those scenes. she couldn't have done it without him pushing, he'll tell you, shrugging.

but what if, you wonder. what if he had never existed? without him, what else could we be making? all that time and love and spirit, allowed back into the light. into knowledge. what has he taken, to give us his art?

and is it a trade worth making?

[mp3chan]

5:21pm [S]

plz reblog/follow if u enjoy!

pairing: hard dom!changbin x afab!reader

wc: 1.7k

tw: use of the words ‘clit’, ‘core’, ‘cunt’ & ‘pussy’ for y/n (tho no female identifiers are used other than those above), punishment, jealous/meanish changbin, sir kink, degradation (use of slut), slight impact play, MINORS DNI

an: purely blame this on my proofreader ily bestie

© copyright mp3chan 2022 (don’t repost, steal, or translate!)

“i-i’m sorry…” you whimpered, your whole body tensing up, you didn’t mean to actually piss changbin off, only meant to tease him.

“you just had to fucking go and flirt with my members during dinner didn’t you?!” changbin was gripping the wheel tight, knuckles white from the pressure.

at this point you knew you needed to give changbin his distance, you’d never seen him so upset before. you knew he wouldn’t hit you or anything, but you knew he was pissed.

“changbin, i-“ you started to apologize, trying to say you were just joking around with hyunjin and jisung, but he wasn’t having it.

“shut up.” changbin growled again, one hand letting go of the wheel and tightly gripping your lower thigh.

this made your brain short-circuit for a second, you’d had scenes with changbin being dominate before, you always throughly talked it through beforehand. you two never did a spontaneous scene like this.

“sorry sir..” you whispered, clenching your thighs together and squishing changbin’s hand between them.

“you’re gonna be more than sorry, slut.” changbin told you his voice dropping lower and gripping your thigh tighter.

“binnie…i really am sorry.” you whimpered half way playing into what he seemed to be doing and half way trying to get him to calm down. “i was just joking around with them.” you pouted, feeling changbin shove your thighs open with just his fingers.

“color?” was all changbin replied with, his one hand gripping the wheel just as tight as before, trying to stay on the road.

“green..but binnie..” you started lifting out of the seat slightly to turn toward him, only for his free hand to release your thigh and push you back against your seat.

“stay still.” he commanded.

you gulped, you really couldn’t cute or pout your way out of this one. “yes sir.”

“i’m not so much mad at you, i expect this behavior from my little slut.” changbin started, his fingers slowly dragging up your thigh, inching his way closer to your core. “however i didn’t expect my pervert best friends to indulge you.” he added, suddenly slapping your thigh harshly.

“they know you’re mine. do i need to remind them?” he was more blathering to himself now, you knew to stay quiet, only to speak when spoken to. the more he thought of them leaning against you, brushing your hair out of your face, the angrier he got.

at this point changbin was full on speeding, almost running lights, being more reckless than ever.

“i think i do.” changbin turned to you briefly, his free hand continuing its trail up your thigh.

you wanted desperately to just grab his hand and put it where you want it, you knew better not to rush changbin, not to be greedy.

“trying to decide between pulling over and marking you until i’m sure they’ll notice, or taking you back to the dorm and making sure they hear you.” changbin debated aloud, smirking at you when he heard the little gasp come out of your mouth.

“which do you want, baby?” changbin asked you, pulling over and into an alley, quickly making sure the doors were locked.

“binnie…” you pouted, trying one last time to calm him down by being cute.

“not gonna work this time, darling. nice try though.” changbin chuckled darkly, turning in his seat toward you.

“i’ll ask you once last time. here or the dorm?” changbin asked again, making it clear you had to choose between one of them.

“h-here sir.” you whispered, seeing the smirk on changbin’s face as he pushed his seat back as far as it would go and unbuckling your seatbelt.

“lap now.” he ordered, watching you scramble to crawl onto his lap, legs spread just for him.

“tragic you didn’t wear a skirt today, would have made for easier access.” changbin whispered in your ear, pushing your pants down to the middle of your thighs. “i’m sure the members would have liked that though.”

“bin..” you whined, feeling his hands rub your thighs harshly, squeezing your flesh tightly, sure to leave marks like he wanted.

“try again.”

“sir..” you whispered, the grip on your thighs becoming so harsh it hurt, making you whimper aloud.

“hurts?“ changbin asked you, only getting frantic nodding as a response. he tsked and then brought his hand down on your thigh, basking in the yelp that came from you.

“yes sir. hurts.” you panted, this was overwhelming. it was rare hard dom changbin made an appearance, but he’s never been this rough with you.

“good hurt?” softie changbin made a quick appearance in that question.

“really good. want them to know i’m your baby.” you pouted leaning in to get a kiss from changbin, hearing him chuckle and indulge you for a second.

“still not getting out of it.” he growled against your lips, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your underwear and then ripping them off you completely.

the force of the fabrics edge dug into your skin and burned but that didn’t even phase you as much as changbin purposely putting them in his backseat.

“let them find your soaked panties tomorrow huh?” changbin smirked and if you weren’t bright red already you were now.

you were panting, your core aching for changbin to do something to you, at this point you didn’t care what it was. you just needed him.

“how cute. who made you this horny slut? me or hyunjin?” changbin teased you, this was really coming to bite you in the ass.

“you sir. only you.” you quickly responded, grabbing onto changbin’s hand and bringing it to your core, pushing his fingers into your folds, letting him fully feel how much he effected you.

“only sir makes me this wet.” you panted, pushing his fingers closer to your cunt, wanting to feel something filling you up. “need you.”

“need me huh?” changbin smirked, pulling your hand away harshly with his free one, his fingers roaming on their own, the obscene squelch filling the silence in the car.

“changbin…” you moaned, your hands going to brace yourself on his shoulders, hips rocking against his hand.

“try again.” he growled again reminding you, quickly pushing two fingers inside you, making you bend forward and lean your head into changbin’s shoulder.

“sir…” you gasped, clumsily grasping onto his shirt, trying to find purchase on something to ground you. “need you please. i’m sorry.” you begged.

changbin didn’t reply to your desperate begging, only curling his fingers over and over inside your cunt rapidly, basking in the sounds he could get out of you. noises only he heard, just for him.

“fuck!” you cursed, unknowingly grinding your pussy down onto his fingers, trying to push yourself closer to your orgasm.

“you’re lucky i like hearing you moan like a little slut for me so much, otherwise i’d just edge you all night.” changbin sounded so calm, so stern, though his throbbing dick in his trousers would show otherwise.

“sir no!” you gasped, looking changbin in the eyes with a look of desperation and lust. “please please please.” you panted, your grinding and his fingers both speeding up, his thumb going to rub circles on your clit.

“so needy.” changbin commented, his grip on your thigh tightening the more you got closer to your orgasm. you didn’t even feel it because you were in such bliss.

“cum.” changbin ordered and you were instantly climaxing on his fingers, back arching over the steering wheel, hands gripping tightly onto his shirt.

“fuck! changbin!” you screamed, not seeing the look of adoration and pride he was giving you, too far gone for him to notice.

you were panting as changbin slowed his pace of his fingers inside you, expecting him to pull them out, wipe them on his shirt and redress you.

“oh you thought we were done, baby?” changbin chuckled, the quick pace of his fingers inside you resuming, persistently pressing against the spot inside you only he could seem to find.

“binnie..” you whined, feeling tears start to well in your eyes. you could feel your second orgasm begin to start crashing upon you, not sure if you could even take it.

“my little slut can take it, can’t you?” changbin mocked you and you simply whimpered, hands trying to get him to slow down a little.

“color?”

“g-green! fuck!” you quickly replied, thighs starting to shaking in his grasp, his nails digging into your flesh, sure to leave marks behind.

“one more for sir yeah? two for how many members you flirted with tonight, hmm?” changbin kept rambling, thumb going back to rub your clit just right.

“c-can’t.” you whined loudly, anyone outside the car sure to hear you. you felt your second climax oncoming regardless.

“oh but you can.” changbin told you. “you fucking will, slut.” he growled, pulling you by the collar of your shirt into a fiery kiss.

your head was spinning, the taste of changbin on your tongue, his fingers inside you and gripping your thigh. it was all too much, but just enough.

changbin barely pushed you away, your lips still grazing each other as he began to speak. “cum.” he ordered once more.

“changbin! fuck!” you gasped, thighs shaking, tears finally escaping your eyes and your release soaking changbin’s hand.

“good baby.” he whispered to you as you came down from euphoria, petting your head gently with his free hand, slowly pulling his fingers out of as petted you.

“forgiven?” you asked him once you got your breathing settled again, sitting onto his lap to rest.

“was never mad. a little jealous, yes, but not mad.” changbin told you, wiping away the tears that fell during your second orgasm.

“should make you jealous more often.” you giggled as he was pulling your pants back up and into place.

“get in your seat you little brat.” changbin chuckled, actually amused by you now.

you just giggled and got back into the passenger seat of his car, watching him pull his seat back to where it was and restarting the car.

“binnie. you’re hard.” you pointed out, seeing a faint blush on his cheeks. “want me to take care of it back at the dorm so they know who you belong to?” you giggled, throwing his jealously fueled words right back at him.

“brat.” changbin scoffed, pulling back onto the road, seriously thinking about taking you up on that offer.

[dreamsgazer]

Football time! [teaser]

Work in progress, hope I will be able to post the full thing soon!!!

Tangerine X Plus Size Female Character

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Tangerine is singing.

He is fucking singing! She looks at him in delighted disbelief: her boyfriend is standing with a hundred or more of grown-up men actually pouring his heart in a song for his football team.

This view alone is worthy spending a Sunday sitting on a cold, plastic seat in a football stadium.

A place which she has never thought she was going to visit, truth to be told.

Ah, the things we do for love indeed, she smirks, rubbing her hands together to warm them a bit. She considers taking a quick video to send to Lemon, even if probably he has witnessed the scene in person dozens of times. And probably he was standing and singing as well. 

That day so far has been full of surprises.

First of all, Tangerine is actually wearing an outfit that is not an exquisitely tailored suit. It still looks almost outrageously expensive for being a tracksuit, but if a thing like an elegant sporty outfit exists, Tangerine is definitely rocking it. So well it’s almost striking, she thinks in admiration. 

However, it’s not that that makes her bit her lips to avoid laughing - she has the feeling that would hurt his feelings. No, what is incredible is that over his dark red coat and black jeans, he is proudly wearing a maroon, blue, and yellow scarf with a huge crest on it. She has tried not to let her jaw hit the parking floor when he has fished out of his pocket two wool caps, with the same colors and adorned with the embroidered crest of the West Ham United football team.

He has wore the first, and affectionately pressed the second on her head.

“Perfect, I knew it!” he has nodded, checking her “I knew that a face as pretty as yours would have damn rocked our colors! You look fantastic!”

“You do,” she has chuckled, adjusting the hat “I am not so sure how I look!”

“Then trust me, love, you looking fucking gorgeous!”.

The second surprise has been not heading for the VIP tribune, but one of the side tribunes.

A couple - maybe even more -  of girls have already oogle at him multiple times, and while she isn’t perfectly content with that, she can’t find the strength to blame them. She does feel a pang of embarrassment when she catches the shocked glare they send her. They must have realized she is with him. In a romantical way, not as the chubby sister or the overweight friend without benefits. They are strangers and their opinions don’t - shouldn’t - count, but they sure hurt. 

Luckily, Tangerine is too busy singing about bubbles to realize her enthusiasm has a bit diminished. She straightens her shoulders, glad she has a bit of time to shut down the unpleasant thoughts those women have evoked with their blatant disbelief.

"I know it must be looking fucking stupid,” he mutters with no trace of shame as soon as the song is over and they are waiting for the team to arrive, a widespread grring lighting up his face “but I am not going to apologize, love.”

"I wasn’t thinking it looked stupid,” she shakes her head, her long ponytail bunching on her burgundy coat - don’t wear anything blue, darling! “I was thinking how wonderful it is that you are able to relax and have so much fun!"

His grin widens making his nose scrunch lightly, and she can’t resist quickly kissing his cheek. Someone behind them whistles, making her chuckle. He laughs too, surprisingly, while amicably flipping off whoever did it. He presses his lips to hers, an affectionate peck that makes her wish he has lingered a little longer "Glad you are here, love. Just tell me if it becomes too much, ok?"

Becomes too much? A football match? Granted, it’s her first one, but she doesn’t think she can be overwhelmed by some strangers cheering for their team! Sometimes Tangerine is just too overprotective, that’s it.

Turns out, she has been wrong.

[ethereousdelirious]

Idk what happened, I just fucking snapped and wrote unabashed fluffy fever kink for P.onyo's parents??? Oh to be an androgynous sea wizard, feverish and loved in a woman's arms *sigh*

And I do mean Po.nyo. The uh. The Gh.ibli movie. Yeah, idk either. I haven't seen it in forever idk where this came from

Anyway, enjoy the fluff ;) Brush your teeth after reading so you don't get cavities

In hindsight, she should have known better. It wasn't like Granmamare to worry, but she was usually not so naive as to be carefree. Blame it on the shakeup of the past few days, blame it on the humans grounding their boats on an unexpected sandbar. All things Fujimoto would have told her if he could.

It didn't occur to her to visit until a day or so had passed. She watched the same sun as humans did, abided by the same cycle of moon and stars, but the passage of time meant less to her. How could it mean anything when the oceans contained life that grew imperceptibly over thousands of years?

It was the silence that finally stirred her to action. Her dearest was never still, always alight with nervous energy even when he was exhausted. He would tap his toes as he worked, his lower lip finding its way between his teeth until he sometimes made himself bleed, and his clever fingers would tangle up in his hair or the hem of his shirt. Fujimoto was never still, not even in sleep.

But he was still now.

His golden work lights lit the scene, casting gentle shadows about the space. They pulsed with the movement of the water outside the windows. Safe in their bubble, the children slept. Granmamare spared a moment to smile at them even as an unfamiliar pang of worry threatened the serenity at her core. In her domain, there were few things outside her control. Fujimoto was one of them, which was part of the reason she adored him so much. But this was no thrill of the unknown, no pleasurable frisson across her skin. This was a slow, creeping dread that echoed in the silence: a frantic pounding heartbeat.

She made her way through the wrecked room and even then couldn't help the glow of fondness that warmed her at the half-formed piles of displaced equipment. Ponyo's doing, no doubt. It soothed her a little as she walked along, though her progress was slowed by the weaving path she had to take. She imagined her beloved dashing back and forth between the stacks, tripping over his own feet in his haste to have everything back in working order. Even in immortality, Fujimoto had never seemed to grasp the concept of relaxation.

She found him in a corner, tucked between a shelf and a wall. It wasn't a tight fit, but it was a cozy one. He sat motionless but for the shivers that wracked him, his coral-colored hair cascading down his shoulders like so many waves. His face was covered, buried in his drawn-up knees. The sharp salt tang of his breath was at once familiar and foreign, reminiscent of the sea and yet out of place. It was a sick, unhealthy scent, heavy with pain and misery.

Granmamare's heart ached for her beloved. She knelt and reached out for him, pale fingertips brushing one trembling shoulder.

Fever.

She couldn't help but gasp when she felt it, sparing a guilty glance over her shoulder to see if she had woken their daughters. They slept on, serene in their nursery, so she turned back to her beloved. How long had it been since she had seen him like this? He hated these painful reminders of his heritage, the blood of humanity flowing through his veins. Burning him up.

Fujimoto needed rest, but not like this. Granmamare would have to wake him and move him, dismissing all his weak protests. She smiled faintly in anticipation of this and ran her hand through his tangled hair. "Darling," she whispered, fingertips already burning with the heat he was generating. "It's time to wake up."

He jolted, still brimming with nervous energy even when he was so ill, and then gave her a look of tenderest apology, remorse that he had flinched away from her sacred touch. "Love," he whispered, but she stopped him with a finger to the lips. He closed his eyes, forehead creasing, breath coming fast and hot through his nose.

"All is well," she murmured, smoothing his hair back. It was damp at the temples. "Come."

She held out her arms to take him, intending to carry him, but he shook his head. "I won't leave them." His voice was hoarse but firm, his bright eyes fixed on the nursery.

"Come to bed, my love. I will watch over them."

"But I…" Confusion and horror bloomed in Granmamare's chest as Fujimoto's eyes filled with tears. He never cried. He really wasn't in his right mind. "I can't let them slip away."

"They're asleep, my love. You did well. You put them to bed." Indeed, it seemed the last action that Fujimoto had taken before succumbing to exhaustion had been to ensure the safety of their children. They were all accounted for, all dreaming, all safe within their nursery. "You can rest now." She held out her arms to him again, sighing when he shifted into her embrace. His fever raged against her skin at their points of contact, his forehead burning against her neck. "Oh, my dear," she sighed, picking him up easily.

"I love you," he murmured. Hot breath and hot tears tickled the side of her neck. "I love you, I love you." He shivered in her arms, a parody of the nervous energy that always thrummed beneath his skin.

Oh, he wasn't well. Her poor darling. Burning up in her arms, his words fading away to an incoherent mutter and flames of kisses along her collarbone. "Shh, darling." She found a chair and turned it with one foot so she could face the nursery, lowering herself into it as gently as waves brushed sandy shores on a clear day.

He wouldn't relax. Even with his head pillowed against her breasts, their legs tangled, he shifted and shook, flames in his cheeks. "Marry me," he said once, the words rising out of a tangle of incoherent sentiments of devotion.

"Relax, my dear." She ran her hands over what parts of his body she could reach. It calmed him some, but no amount of petting would get him to lie still. Sweat beaded on his brow and dampened his salt-brittle hair, hot tears streaming in rivulets down his cheeks and drying, sticky, on her own skin.

In their bubble, the children were starting to stir. None of them were awake yet, but a few of them rolled and twitched in their sleep, white bellies gleaming gold in the gentle light. Granmamare felt her eyes widen. Fujimoto would never forgive himself if he knew he'd woken them, not that they (or Granmamare, for that matter) would mind. But it was his way to fret and blame himself. So the children would have to remain asleep.

Unfortunately, the sea was starting to react to their combined turmoil: Fujimoto feverish and agitated, Granmamare unable to quell her abject concern. She had never seen him so sick before. The rush of water outside the windows became more frantic, silver bubbles wobbling toward the surface. Fujimoto made a noise of discomfort and went stiff for one long, uneasy moment.

Granmamare began to sing.

It was something Fujimoto had done when they were courting, come and sat with his feet in the water late at night and sang. He had a low, warbling voice, unconfident but somehow that much sweeter for it. His cheeks would light up bright red and he wouldn't look her in the eye until her applause faded out and she would begin to speak to him. She had learned the words to every song he knew.

Her voice filled the cavern and reverberated until the echoes of herself made a kind of chorus in the small space. Although she had feared that the uneven movement of her chest with each inhale would disturb her beloved, he lay still in her arms. His breathing slowed, his muttering dropping off into nothing. She smiled as she sang, pausing briefly to dip down and kiss the top of his head.

All was calm.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS 

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction!  ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame 

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.   ҉   next.

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance. 

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server. 

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!” 

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

“It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle. 

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

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You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

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You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night. 

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls. 

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages. 

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive. 

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case. 

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with. 

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well. 

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, nor promoting mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Suggestive themes but nothing too explicit, scenes containing violence and kidnappings.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong could already sense that something was off the moment he noticed the door wasn't locked and even more worrying was the fact it was slightly ajar. Quickly taking out his gun just in case, he kicked open the door and widened his eyes as it appeared like some struggle took place. Chairs were turnt over, busted picture frames and glass scattered across the floor, and even more terrifying, droplets of blood were seen.

"Y/N!" He quickly remembered about his spouse.

Running into the bedroom, it was in an even bigger disarray than the living room. On the bed, there was a note folded for him to read. Carefully opening it with trembling hands, his eyes took in each letter. Furiously, he crumbled up the paper and quickly dialed his most trusted friend.

"Get the squad ready."

Although you expected that sooner or later you'd be targeted just for the fact you were married to Hongjoong, nothing could have prepared you for it. After all, Hongjoong didn't seem to care much about you, treating your marriage strictly like a business deal and hardly interacting with you. It wouldn't have surprised you if he didn't even care enough to show up and save you.

But you were wrong when he broke in himself and got you safely out of there, despite having suffered quite a few injuries that had you worrying.

"Stop fretting over it, it's just a scratch." He told you when you tried to wipe the blood trickling down the side of his head wound.

"I'm sorry......you're hurt because I-"

"No one is to blame here but me. I chose to go after you and rescue you because I wanted to. If anything, I should be apologizing for getting you in this situation in the first place."

Sighing softly, you tugged at the dirtied sleeves of your shirt.

"It's not like it's really your fault. We were thrown together and naturally they thought they could get the upper hand if they captured me. And to be honest.....you didn't have to save me. I know you don't care about-"

With a loud gasp, you shut up when Hongjoong unexpectedly sat up and kissed you. You were stunned to react and even more shocked by his next words.

"I always cared. And that's precisely why you were kidnapped. From the start, I acted as if I didn't care about you to protect you. They would have never taken you if they thought that I had no regards for you whatsoever. However, I obviously couldn't hide my feelings that well, given the taunting letter they left me. As soon as I read it, I knew I had to get you back to me as soon as possible."

Kissing the top of your forehead, Hongjoong smiled at you for the first time in your marriage life.

"And I'm happy to take you back to our home, where you rightfully belong."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Putting the finishing touches on your makeup and fixing your hair, you beamed with joy at your reflection in the mirror. You felt truly beautiful and walked out into the living room, where your handsome husband was currently on his phone, no doubt talking about some business things with Hongjoong. He seemed to always be busy, never having any time for anything else.

Including you, which somewhat hurt you.

"I'm ready." You told him, shyly tucking some of your hair behind your ear as you hoped he'd like the dress you were wearing, choosing a blue color since you knew it was his favorite.

"Ok. Go wait out in the limousine, I'll be there shortly."

Barely even giving you a glance, he dialed Hongjoong up and continued to further discuss some matters. Sighing softly, you walked rather disappointed out to the car, slamming the door behind you. When Seonghwa joined you a few minutes later, you didn't even care to hide your anger and frustration at him. You still had a scowling look on your face when you arrived at the party, not bothering this time to stick by Seonghwa's side like you usually did other times, playing the role of a perfect and loving wife. And Seonghwa neither noticed nor cared about it. In fact, he never really hid how little your marriage seemed to matter to him. Perhaps he treated it as any other business he owned.

"Such a pity to see such a beautiful lady look so down during such a lovely evening."

Recognizing the voice as Minho, a friend of Seonghwa, you forced a small smile.

"Not really much to be happy about really." You merely stated.

"Is your oh so loving hubby being the usual prince charming he is?" He rolled his eyes, knowing full well just like everyone else how he really treated you.

"What difference does it make? He'll never even look at me."

Unable to let the opportunity go to waste, even if it was his friend, Minho gently caressed your cheek.

"You know....... maybe you should stop trying so hard for a jerk like him....and maybe open your eyes to someone who actually knows you exist."

You were frozen when he leaned in to kiss you, then gasped loudly when none other than Seonghwa pushed him off you, sending Minho crashing onto one of the tables behind him.

"She is my wife! And the next time you touch her, I will cut your hand off!" He warned him.

You didn't even have time to process what was happening as Seonghwa dragged you outside, his grip on your wrist tight and fierce. When you reached the car, you were going to ask him what was going on but you had no time as he pressed you against the car and began to kiss you fervently and hungrily. You were left speechless and breathless, with your legs getting weak as he let out low snarls in between his kisses on your neck.

"Mine.......you're all mine."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Both Yunho and you were beyond nervous at this point, hell you actually felt somewhat terrified. You knew exactly what his parents wanted when they organized this 'family vacation'. This wasn't a getaway to spend time together and they made it obviously clear at dinner when you came back from the bathroom and overheard him arguing with his parents.

"You know I can't ask her to do that!" Yunho adamantly said.

"You've been married for over a year Yunho. It's time and you know it." His mother insisted.

"I will not impregnate her. Have you ever considered her feelings? Maybe she doesn't want kids. Maybe I don't want kids, have you ever thought of that?" He asked them, voice getting more agitated.

"It's both of your duties to produce heirs to keep control and stability in the organization. Your life is at risk on a daily basis. If you die with no children it'll only cause chaos and disruption." His father reminded him.

That was the one thing you dreaded facing since the day you said "I do", having to be forced to become nothing more than a baby maker. Yunho knew from the beginning how uncomfortable you were during your first night together, that's why he ended up sleeping in another room, as he had done every day afterwards, not wanting you to freak out and giving you your space.

But now you both stared at the single king sized bed in your hotel room, reality staring you in the face. Neither of you said a word as you took turns changing and getting ready to go to sleep in the bathroom, Yunho letting you go first. As you crept into the bed, your hands tightly held onto the blanket, your eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, unaware of anything until you felt the bed shift next to you. You inhaled sharply when you felt Yunho's fingers caress your hair.

"Y/N-"

"Just get it over with will you?! Just knock me up and make your parents happy. I don't care anymore."

Although you tried to sound strong, the tremble in your voice gave you away. You could feel tears starting to well up in your eyes. When Yunho moved to hover above you, you instantly shut your eyes, tears lightly spilling out. You could feel his breath ghost over your lips and then suddenly they moved as he planted the gentlest of kiss on your forehead.

"Good night my dear. I promise I won't take up too much space."

Confused you open your eyes and watched as Yunho turned on his side, facing away from you as he scooted to give you as much room as he possibly could.

"I don't...I don't understand why..." You didn't even know what you were asking at this point.

"I'm not going to be that asshole that will make you do something you're not prepared for. I respect, value and admire you too much to make you go through that. I'll just wait until you're ready."

You weren't going to deny that your heart fluttered at his words.

"But your parents-"

"They can suck it. I've lived this long, I think I'll be fine. They can wait like I'm willing to wait. The only downside is putting up with their bullshit and nagging for disobeying them...."

You could tell he was falling asleep by the way his voice started to mumble and lower in tone, and his tiny yawn made it more obvious. You were prepared for his cute tiny rambling but you didn't expect what he said next.

"But that's what I get for falling in love with you..."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang stared out the spacious window of his office, the glittering city lights looking as splendid as they did every night, bustling with sounds of the inhabitants coming out to party and overall enjoy life. They seemed to be mocking him, mocking him for being happy while he felt miserable and empty inside.

It had been hours since you had already left, your plane had probably already landed back to your hometown and you were now ready to settle into your new life....away from him. He couldn't stop replaying the argument you had just a day ago:

"Can't you at least pretend to care?" You spat out, dropping your fork against the plate of food in front of you.

"If you know what I'm like, why even ask?" Was his only reply.

"Yes I know what you're like! You're cold, stoic, soulless and have no regards for anyone's feelings but your own! Being married to you all these years, I know you better than anyone! But I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you not caring enough to even try." She could feel her voice starting to crack.

Letting out a deep sigh, Yeosang pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"From the beginning, you knew what you were getting in to. We didn't get married because we were a couple of lovestruck fools wanting to vow our lives to each other. Our parents arranged it and we had no choice. If you were stupid enough to catch feelings well then..."

Finally lifting his gaze to look at you, his eyes were unwavering as he coldly declared:

"That's not my fault. And you can't expect me to reciprocate your feelings when I don't even have any to begin with."

Not taking anymore, you began crying tears of heartbreak, anger, frustration and indignation all at the same time. Standing up, you firmly declared your intent of going back home, not willing to put up or stay with him anymore.

"Ok."

Not even a goodbye, a farewell or even another look at you. Those were his final words before you stormed out and made preparations to leave as soon as possible. Yeosang had spent the entire day pacing back and forth, unable to think or do anything except look at the clock almost every hour. He had been counting the seconds since your flight was scheduled to leave, that's how he knew you were home by then.

He cursed himself for being a coward. For not speaking up and telling you how much you actually meant to him, how scared he was of his feelings for you, and most of all, he hated himself for not running out to stop you. Now you were gone from his life forever........ unless....

"Get my plane ready."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San and you didn't even meet each other until you were both standing at the altar, families ready to join together two criminal organizations to grow their power even further. Both of you looked at each and instantly felt what the other was feeling: shock, denial, insecurity, but most of all, fear. Both of you were afraid of what was going to happen. Though he was trembling just as much as you, San made sure to reach for your hand, squeezing it in his own. With that small gesture, you knew and felt what he was silently saying:

"We're going to get through this together. Just trust me and believe in me. I'll take care of you. You're not alone in this and I'll be right there by your side."

You two got along fairly well, even if there was still awkwardness between the two of you. You were both also still shy around each other that you wouldn't talk unless it was necessary or because something caught one or the other's attention and wanted to share their thoughts out loud, which the other one would try to enthusiastically add on to converse more, but it always ended in awkward laughter.

Yeah. It was extremely awkward. But at least there was no hostility between you two and you guys did enjoy watching movies together at times, hardly speaking a word, but there was no silence at all. You could read each other's minds and feelings all the time. It was truly strange how in tune your thoughts seemed to be at times and scary too. Your mind began to recall times when strange things happened like the time you were craving a certain food and coincidentally, San came later with the exact same food because he got a feeling you wanted some. Or the time you were supposed to go visit extended family but in the end didn't get on the train and went straight home because you felt San needed you. He thought you were crazy, but later that night he was burning up with a fever and you spent your weekend nursing him back to health.

"What did this all mean?" You both thought to yourselves.

"A soulmate is someone that just gets you. It's a connection of minds, a mutual respect, an unconditional love and a total understanding. It's about being yourself and knowing, not only that person is following and understanding your thoughts, but is right there with you, side by side." The actress in the movie you were watching said.

Suddenly everything seemed to click. At the moment both of you felt like the answer to your questions were finally answered. Slowly you both turned and faced one another. Giving you a warm smile as he read your thoughts, San leaned in to cup your cheek with one hand, his thumb drawing circles around it. Brushing his lips against yours, he sighed blissfully as he looked in your eyes.

"My lovely soulmate..."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

When Mingi met you, he was sort of put off by how different you were from him.

"Hi! I'm Y/N, your soon to be wife but please don't think of me as that if you don't want to. Think of me as your friend. I just know we'll get along!"

You were actually squealing and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, almost bouncing up and down with joy while Mingi just stood there stiff as a pole, wondering what the hell made you be so happy and cheerful like that.

"Ok.....ok got it, you can let go now." He tried to squirm out of your embrace, but you merely tightened your grip on him causing him to let out a harsh "oof!" at your strength.

"For such a tiny person, you sure aren't weak." He pointed out.

Married life with you for Mingi was...... different to say the least. He was used to such a gloomy, dark and hostile environment that having a tiny bubble bursting with energy was unusual and not something he was accustomed to. You always greeted him with such enthusiasm and happiness, not to mention you were such a caring housewife, always feeding him and taking care of him. Sometimes Mingi questioned whether you've ever seen the harsh side of the mafia world. Judging by your love for life and others, he guessed no.

And his assumptions were correct when you both were at a party held by some of his other mafia friends. Taking advantage of the occasion, rival gangs infiltrated the building. Storming in, explosions went off in several places, and gun shots were being fired at all directions. Mingi quickly jumped up and tackled you onto the ground, covering your body from the bullets that were being poured out. Taking your hand, he told you to stay down as he safely guided you out of the hall. Once you guys were far away, he quickly sprung up, pulling you up with him as he began running towards the nearest exit, pulling out his hidden gun just in case. You were in shock, even more when you guys passed a couple of dead bodies in the hallway. Feeling sick, you don't even remember how Mingi managed to get you both out of there alive and in one piece before the entire place burst into flames. Staring at the raging fire, you felt like you couldn't breathe, desperately trying to gasp for air.

"Honey, look at me. Look at me ok? You're safe. You're all right and you're going to be all right. Nothing is going to happen to you ok?"

You nodded, trying to choke back tears and forcing a smile on your face, but ultimately failing. Seeing you break down, Mingi immediately pulled you into his arms, his fingers running through your hair as he felt his heart break. You were such a fragile, sensitive and extremely precious person to him. He couldn't bear to see his ray of sunshine and hope in his dark world break down in front of him. He knew had to protect you at all costs and take care of you.

"It's ok my darling angel. I won't let any harm come to you. I swear on my life I'll protect you."

Wiping your tears away, he kissed the top of your head and smiled warmly at you.

"Come on. I'll take you home and have one of those cuddling sessions you always enjoy having."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

You wanted to die, and that wasn't an understatement. You felt utterly humiliated at the fact your parents actually sold you into marriage to some mafia lord's son to pay off their debts. You didn't even have time to process anything, one day you were just bound and stuffed into the back of a car and soon found yourself inside a grand old mansion. You felt alone and scared, unsure of what was going to happen to you. And you were beyond trembling when you met your future husband, expecting some evil and sadistic man when in reality:

"Hi! I'm Jung Wooyoung, your soon to be husband and I can tell we're going to be really happy together!"

He greeted you with just a charismatic enthusiasm, eyes practically beaming when he first saw you.

"Hi, I'm L/N Y/N, the girl that's going to be caged to you for life......or death. Whichever comes first."

He laughed at that, coming closer and squeezed your cheeks.

"You're so cute, I'm already in love with you."

Love? You seriously thought he was insane. You certainly didn't fall in love with him at first sight. And even after months of being married to him, you still didn't felt love towards him, even though Wooyoung tried anything and everything to not only make life easier for you, but in hopes of getting you to reciprocate his feelings.

"Hey Y/N. Look! I got you a present! Open it. I know you'll love it."

You groaned at the thought of another expensive present being given to you. You felt bad that he went through all these troubles when they'd all end in vain. Peeling the ribbon off the huge box, you didn't even get to open the box since the Welsh Corgi inside jumped out and tackled you to the ground. You couldn't help but giggle when it began licking your face, its tail wagging out of joy.

"I knew you'd like him. Now he can keep you company so you won't be lonely while I'm gone."

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't let the opportunity pass to poke fun at him.

"Who said I was even going to miss you?" You chuckled, petting the dog's head.

"You never know." Wooyoung insisted.

Leaving you for 5 months, you couldn't believe you actually started to miss his obnoxiously loud presence. Sure your puppy kept you complaining and cuddled you, but it wasn't the same. You hated to admit it....

But you actually wanted Wooyoung to come back and smother you with what you always referred to as his annoying affection.

Opening the front door, Wooyoung called out that he was home. He smiled when he was greeted by his furry friend rather enthusiastically. But he was not expecting for you to run out and jump at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. Although he stumbled slightly, he made sure to catch you, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Y/N are you-?"

He widened his eyes when you crashed your lips on his, kissing him as if your life depended on it. Once getting over the shock, he had a smug grin as he kissed you back.

"Told you you'd miss me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho terrified you. From day one, you were intimidated by him. He always had a blank expression, hardly talked and he had a reputation for being brutally strong. Obviously you felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, afraid to piss him off. Anytime he called out to you or came near you, your body would jump.

"Y/N..."

Shrieking, you turned around when you felt his hand brush against your lower back. Tilting his head, he raised an eyebrow at your reaction.

"I needed something from the cabinet."

Without breaking eye contact, his hands gripped your waist as he slightly moved you to the side, fingers digging into your skin. After having gotten what he wanted, his thumb poked your nose as he winked at you.

"Thanks doll."

You swore he was teasing you. He'd purposefully use any occasion to show off his strength to you, his favorite being cutting up wood in the yard with an axe. You couldn't help but stare at his arms that were visible due to him wearing a sleeveless shirt. When he noticed you staring, he sent a smug smile your way which caused you to blush and you immediately retreated back inside the house.

There was also the time he accidentally walked in on you changing. There you were, standing in nothing but your lacy underwear set, for some reason not embarrased or hiding yourself as Jongho inhaled deeply as his eyes raked your body. Subtly biting his lips, he apologized before reluctantly leaving the room.

Both of you were frustrated by that point, tired of the light teasing. Jongho was the one who decided to put a stop to it one night he came home from a mission. He had been badly hurt and you, worrying about him, sat him down to tend to his wounds. It was a struggle since he had to remove his shirt and you were blushing violently, eyes always looking away.

"It's ok doll. I'm your husband...you can look at me."

His hands that were holding onto your arms began caressing your elbows, subtly pulling you closer to him without you noticing until you were firmly planted on his lap.

"Do you want me my little doll?" He asked you, voice in a low whisper as his breath fanned over your lips.

"Cause I've wanted you since the first day I laid my eyes on you."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.