#idk im just. im happy to see him in places i would never expect and im proud that hes thriving

[sea-buns]

ChilledChaos in MCC is maybe the most bizarre crossover that I've ever seen from this man in the literal decade that I've been watching him and I am so excited

My guy relearns minecraft every time he plays it. Every session of it is like watching a newly born dear learn to walk and discover guns in the same moment

[binniesbooks]

HI FAYEEE hruuu?!?! Missed requesting fics from u uheheeu. so ermmm i watched the new txt vlog in us and holy shithffj huening got so fucking buffed rn and im legit having a huening brainrot rn😭

Soo if u dont mind, may i request a dom!hueningkai x sub!readerrr

Scenario is reader and hueningkai are only together for a few months. The boys and you went to a bar to drink and the members teased kai for being so obsessed with reader and like a "perv" type? is that what u call it IDK and reader knows kai as a like very shy type boy so its kinda hard to believe. BUT, when they get home, huening snapped and proved that he's not innocent and shit. She didint knew that huening got so strong and buff. (rest is yours to write:))

Idk if this is good enough but feel free to ignore this if u get uncomfortable with my request!!

• SWEET LIES

HK 002 .F22 2024

wc 3k

pairings slightdom!Kai x subfem!reader

warnings safe sex, slight dom heuning kai, choking, oral (f receiving), marking, spanking (+ anything else I missed)

faye's note I didn't actually expect that someone would miss requesting from me??? 😖❤️ Sorry, this took me so long to finish this too ☹️☹️ but yesss! Buff Kai! Fuck fuck fuck 🙂‍↕️

p.s. I just got home again from uni, immediately pulling out my phone to post this lolololol

It had only been five months since you started dating Heuning Kai, and each day felt like a new adventure. His smile was infectious, and his laughter was a melody that lingered long after conversations ended.

He's a sweet guy, not so shy but not so laid back. In public, he was charming, the boy-next-door type who could melt your heart with just a glance. To anyone else, including you, he seemed innocent—perhaps even a little shy.

"Kai, do you mind going with me to the grocery store after class? I've run out of stocks." You leaned a bit, whispering to your seatmate—Kai, your boyfriend.

Kai glanced back at you, giving you a reassuring smile.

"Sure, let's go later," he said, patting your head.

Eyes were always watching you. Inside the school premises, on your morning walks, in the grocery—anywhere.

You could only smile to yourself, because who wouldn't? Kai, the famous and versatile band member of your campus, started dating you. He is known to be shy among others, therefore people were shocked to see you two dating.

You held his hand, walking side by side, squeezing it thrice, silently signaling the "I love you" unknown to him.

Kai pays for your groceries most of the time. He never lets you spend a single cent, even when you insist. Therefore to at least give back to him, you often visit him with groceries and gifts too. Because even though you're independent, you feel bad that he was the only one who was spending money.

Your take on dating? 50-50.

But these days, Kai started giving you expensive gifts. He has been giving you perfumes, jewelry, clothes—anything that costs a fortune because of its brand name.

Kai is a sweet boy. The sweet and gentle type of boyfriend. Takes you on cute picnic dates to entertaining arcade ones. Kisses the top of your head, and your forehead, and intertwines your fingers. Sings a song for you, serenading you when you're sulky. --- you couldn't ask for more.

So when he invited you to one of his friends's parties, you gladly obliged.

"Y/n, do you wanna go with me to the party tomorrow night? I also want my hyungs to see you in person," he asked on one of your usual Friday movie nights.

"Mhm! Sure!" Of course, you're more than happy to go with him. Your heart flutters with the thought that he will finally introduce you to his friends.

"Kai, do you wanna change places tonight? I'll sleep on the couch, take the bed," you suggested. It is because even though Kai sleeps at your place, he never sleeps beside you. He always takes the couch. It's not like he doesn't want to, he just thought that you might not like it. But you, on the other hand, think that your boyfriend is just too pure and cute, so you never ask him to sleep beside you.

"No, no! I'm okay here on the couch. Please take the bed." Kai mutters as he pulls you closer, hugging you tight and planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Are you sure? You can take the bed tonight. I don't mind."

"No, you take it. And have a good rest, pumpkin. I don't want you to have a sore body when you wake up the next morning," he says.

"'M'kay..." you muttered.

"I love you, pumpkin," he whispers.

"I love you, Kai." You pulled away and stared at him for a while. Kai's gaze drops down to your lips as he gulps. It didn't escape your sight, you felt your heart thump a little harder. Is it bad that you want to kiss him too?

He quickly averts his gaze, pulling the pillow towards his body. "Goodnight, pretty. Sleep tight, yeah?" He smiled at you as he laid down on the couch. He watched you trudge towards your bedroom, grunting when he heard the soft thud of the wooden door.

Kai drapes his arm over his eyes, gently shoving another pillow on his lower half.

The atmosphere was electric when you arrived at the bar the next night. The dimly lit space echoed with laughter and music, a vibrant backdrop to the chaotic energy of his friends.

You felt a thrill in your chest, happy to be part of his world, to finally meet his friends. "Hyung, this is y/n, my girlfriend." Kai proudly introduced you to his friends.

You waved your hand and meekly muttered a soft hi.

"Are you sure about Kai?" one of them asked with a playful tone. He's tall, but among the five of them, you can tell he's the shortest.

"Hyunggg!" Kai pouts.

"Hey, don't be like that!" A tall and fair-skinned guy chimes. "My name is Soobin, you can just call me Bin. Nice to meet you," he added as he reached out his hand.

You smiled at him and shook his hand. "This guy is Taehyun, don't mind his comments, you won't predict anything that comes out of his mouth," Soobin chuckles, emitting laughter from the other.

"Hi pretty, I'm Yeonjun, you can call me Jjun." You might be a little judgmental, but you think he's a womanizer. Just by how he winks at you—not to mention his wink isn't perfect, both eyelids closing—and also with the aura he's giving off.

"I know what you're thinking. Yeonjun Hyung is really a womanizer," the long-haired guy cackled, receiving some scolding stare and a swat on the shoulder from the Yeonjun guy.

You sweetly smiled at them as Kai pulled you closer to himself and planted a kiss on your temple. His hand almost squeezes your side as he stays silent with only a smile plastered on his face.

"Oww!" The long-haired guy dramatically cries, making you smile. His group of friends are really different from each other, yet there's something that makes them similar.

"I'm Beomgyu, by the way," he finally adds.

"Nice to meet you guys."

As the night wore on, stories poured out—a mix of warmth, and playful banter, and teasing.

��He’s so cute, isn’t he? ”One of his friends, Taehyun, said teasingly, nudging you with a grin. You nodded enthusiastically, believing in the simplicity of your love, as you glanced at Kai who has been laughing with Beomgyu. You haven't seen this side of him yet, and it makes your heart swell. He looks so comfortable with the other boys to the point that he laughs to his heart's content.

Yet as they sipped their drinks, the tone shifted slightly. “But you know he has a possessive side, right?”Soobin, with a playful wink, chimed in. The words sent a flicker of confusion through you. You couldn’t imagine Kai being anything but sweet and loving.

“No way, you guys are just kidding! He's actually gentle,” you laughed, waving the comments away. Kai caught your gaze and smiled, his boyish charm pulling at your heartstrings.

"See?" you motioned, the two older guys shrugging with a wide grin.

The night continued, filled with games and laughter, but the whispers about his “other side” lingered in the back of your mind.

You returned home, feeling conflicted but convinced of your own truth.

Once inside your apartment, you were greeted by the comforting silence of solitude. But the peace was short-lived. Just as you began to relax, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind you. It was Kai, his presence instantly filling the space with warmth. The guys actually insisted Kai to escort you home as you were already tipsy.

“Hey, I'll be on the couch, okay? Just tell me if you need anything,” he said softly, stepping closer. The way he looked at you made your heart race, but memories of the night still gnawed at your thoughts.

“I had a great time tonight!” You said, forcing a bright smile. “Your friends are… different.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Different? How?”

You hesitated, weighing how to voice what was bothering you. But the flicker of darkness in his gaze made you reconsider. “They just said you have a possessive side.”

His expression shifted, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, did they?” He mused, stepping even closer until your back met the wall, the playful tension rising between you.

"But I told them you're just... cute... and gentle... aren't you?" Your fingers fiddled on the silver necklace dangling on his chest.

Yet he moved faster than you could comprehend. With a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground, making you sit on the drawer just beside your bedroom door, as he pressed against you. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“Let me show you what they mean,” he whispered, a low tone that sent your thoughts spinning. In that moment, the innocence you had associated with him faded into a sultry gaze that spoke volumes.

You wanted to protest, to argue that he was cute, sweet Kai. But as his lips crashed onto yours, all coherent thoughts vanished. Every ounce of confidence you had melted away, and you felt the heat pooling between you, igniting an undeniable spark.

"K-kai..." is the only thing you were able to whisper when he pulled away for a while and lips came back crashing against yours once again. You tugged at his shirt, making sure to keep yourself grounded from everything that's happening. His kisses traveled down your neck, his hands wrapping around your back, slowly unzipping your dress.

"K-kai, please..." Kai felt his cock throbbed from your strained begging voice.

It stirred something inside him. He gently pulled down the flimsy clothing that barely covered your thighs earlier, discarding it on the floor, and leaving you in your bra and panties.

Your hands quickly flew, covering your chest as you turned beet red when he stepped back a little to admire your naked figure. His gaze felt like a black hole sucking you in. "Don't let Yeonjun hyung go anywhere near you, hm?" he warns, his hand reaching out to your face, gently brushing your cheek. "I know him too well."

And it sinks in. The question of why Kai pulled you closer to himself earlier and why he was almost squeezing your side has now been answered. You nodded, your eyes looking for praise from him. And then he moves back closer to you, prying your hands off your chest as he lifts you up and marches his way to your bedroom.

"I'm giving you the chance to stop me right now, pumpkin. I don't want our relationship to go to waste just because of a drunken mistake," he sighs, his huge figure hovering above you.

You shook your head, which made Kai shut his eyes. It seems like he was trying to calm himself.

"Pumpkin-"

"Don't stop, Kai. I need you... Please..." you whined, biting down on your lower lip. It was Kai's last straw—you begging.

He moved with such dominance, guiding the pace and intensity of the moment, the way he manhandled you filled you with a mix of excitement and exhilaration. You were at his mercy, and instead of fear, an overwhelming sense of trust washed over you.

He pulls away, "You're not gonna regret this?" he asked while removing his shirt.

It's not a secret that Kai has a big body build, given that he has a huge frame. But you're not expecting this from him, the guy in front of you is so buff that you almost refuse to believe he's Kai.

He chuckled when he saw your reaction. "Should I pick your jaw from the floor, pumpkin?"

Kai slides his hand under your head before he grabs your hand and lets you touch his firm chest. "Last chance to answer. Are you sure about this?"

"Please Kai. I've been wanting to touch you. To kiss you. To make love with you." Your eyes are glossy from how happy you are. No doubt, he's really a loving and caring boyfriend.

This time, you pulled him, kissing him in the most gentle, loving, and emotional way. His soft lips felt like a cloud on yours. His warm tongue ignites a pit of fire in your stomach. His teeth biting and grazing your lips made you reeling. He pulled away with a string of saliva hanging.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, planting another soft kiss on your forehead. However, you could feel the possessiveness he’d hinted at—the way he claimed you as his, how he sought to leave his marks on your neck and chest. You were a hundred percent sure it would leave marks for a couple of days.

He was a force, the kind of passionate energy you never knew you craved. His touches were both gentle and commanding, and soon you surrendered to the pleasure, allowing him to take control. You don't mind his dominance, right? If anything, you loved it—submitting to your buff boyfriend who's taking the lead.

Your soft mewls and moans made his cock throb once again. And it looks like he's not leaving any part of your body taken for granted.

Your lips were swollen from his kisses. Neck and shoulders littered with hickeys. The soft skin of your arm is filled with love bites. Your mounds slicked with his saliva. Your waist was marked by the tight grip of his hand. Your ass cheeks are red with his spanking. Your plush thighs were marked with how his fingernails dug at your skin. Your gummy walls are clenching on his tongue.

"Kai... K-kai... Hah.. ahh..." You're spent. Yet you're loving how his slimy tongue explored your insides. You gripped his hair, and your soft sobs of pleasure resonated within the enclosure of your room.

He carefully pulled away, licking his lips as he locked his gaze with you. "Wanna know, I don't want to share the same bed with you, pumpkin? Why don't I want to use your room?" Kai tilted his head sideways with a grin.

"W-why?" you pant.

"I can't let you hear me when I touch myself at night. I can't let you see me fuck my fist imagining it's yours. I can't sleep in your room or else I might end up cumming and soiling your bed," he chuckled, his eyes full of desire.

"Kai," you whimpered at the thought as you closed your eyes, imagining everything he just confessed.

"Maybe my friends were right after all, hm?" His fingers started prodding on your entrance. "Maybe I wasn't as innocent as you think, pumpkin. I'm sorry," he mutters, slowly pushing his digits in.

"F-fuck ahh... H-hah, Kai!" You held his wrist as you let out whiny moans. His tongue already made you see a glimpse of heaven. His fingers would totally let you fully see what heaven looks like. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moans until you ended up cumming on his fingers without warning.

Too embarrassed, you covered your eyes as you saw his glistening fingers. Sticky and wet at the same time. You heard him let out a soft chuckle before a moan came from him.

You quickly open your eyes, only to him deliciously sucking his fingers with his eyes closed.

"K-kai that's dirty!" You quickly got up to stop him, but he only pulled your thighs and raised them up. Your ass now lifted from the bed as your back was gently bent. He dipped his head down on your sopping cunt as he slurped on your dripping cunt.

It felt dirty. Nasty, even. Yet Kai seems to enjoy eating you out. His eyes filled with lust when he opened them, looking at you as if you were his prey.

"D-do you mind if I p-put it on you?" you stuttered, suggesting to put the condom on him for him.

Kai hums. You quickly reached above, frantically pulling the drawers to grab the pack of condoms you bought three months ago, thinking you were gonna get laid.

He pulled his pants off, his girthy cock slapping on his abdomen, tip leaking from pre-cum.

Kai winces when you slowly roll the condom on his hard cock. The red tip looked as if it was gonna burst anytime. His hand clamped on his mouth as he watched you wrap him up, muffling any noise.

Kai sat on the bed, leaning on the headboard just beside you. "Take a seat," he motioned, tapping his lap.

As a good girlfriend, you gladly obliged. Straddling him and lifting your waist, sinking slowly on his erect cock.

Kai threw his head back, grunting at the tight feeling, gripping your waist and landing a spank on your still red ass. Yelping in pleasure, you forced all the way down, letting him fill your insides with his thickness. You buried your face on his neck as he rubbed your back, cooing at you.

"You're so good to me, baby, so good," he whispers.

He lets you feel the stretch for a little while before slowly bucking his hips up, thrusting agonizingly slow in you. His thrusts start slow and gradually add force and speed.

"Am I still innocent, pumpkin?" He asked as he pushed you away from his body, wrapping his hand around your neck, lightly squeezing it.

"Still your innocent and gentle Kai? Hm?" he taunts, even if you can't form any words to say.

Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air as he tightens his grip on your neck. You tried keeping your body still, holding on both of his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're sexy, h-hah..." he grunts. Your mind is hazy with his words and actions. It felt too much, that you started drooling.

"K-kai... B-baby..." Your words aren't almost heard as you were gasping for air.

"Let's do this often, yeah?" Kai suggested as he rams his cock inside your gummy walls.

@binniesbooks 2024

[suiana]

Hiiiii :3

I just bing read all of your stuff and to be honest, the student council president totally has my heart <33

Like, omg?? Imagine having the top student at your school wrapped around your finger?? The idea makes me so happy. Like, i can imagine if you start/ are in a club he'd probably give whatever funding you asked for (but idk if he would be too jealous to let you be in one tho, he might make it disband to have you all to himself. Or not! Lemme know what you think)

also i luv your work, im so excited to see what you write this year 💛💛💛

(yandere! student council president x gn! club leader reader)

"man there's no one coming..."

"then i suppose i am simply invisible, hm?"

you sigh, turning your head to stare at the student council president beside you. his face displays a gentle smile, but you know it is nothing more than a facade.

"you're different. you follow me around everywhere."

you mumble, groaning as you bury your face in your arms. that's right, he did follow you around wherever you went. said something like how he needs to keep an eye on you or something...

seriously, he might've been the reason your club has no people now! you know how scary he can get towards others. but he wouldn't do that, right? he's not that crazy... plus he's the one who approved of your club in the first place! he wouldn't do something like that! erm actually ☝️🤓

"yeah but that's only because i need to make sure that you're safe..."

he hums, caressing the back of your head with a tender hand. you only grumble in response to his words, finding no comfort in his touch.

after all, your club was on the verge of disbandment just a month after it got approved. initially, the club had lots of members, all coming to each club session. but as the weeks went by the numbers slowly dwindled and now you're left with no one. well, apart from the damned student council president of course.

you had always wanted a club. but now that you had one it was on the verge of disbanding? how could you feel happy?

"ugh safe from what? there's literally no one around me to even talk to now..."

"hm..."

he hums while watching you grumble to yourself, resisting the urge to smile. why? because it was precisely his plan to isolate you from others. but he wouldn't want to do it in such an obvious way, no not at all! you'd hate him!

instead he played the long game, agreeing to your silly little idea of starting your own club. at first he didn't want to agree. why start your own club when you could join him? you could be like, his honorary assistant or something. besides, being around others would only poison you. they're filthy pests.

but then he saw the way your eyes twinkled at the very idea of having your own club and... he decided to indulge you a little. you were just way too cute to reject!

he had expected maybe one or two people to be interested in your club but who would've known that your idea would've interested half of the school population? he was horrified. he could tolerate a small group of friends but half the school cohort?

so he did what any reasonable person would do and... slowly destroyed your club. come on, what else could a man in love do when his love was being threatened? of course he had to get rid of the competition. you could've fallen for one of your club members if he had just stood by and allowed such treachery to occur!

threatening your club members, forcing them to quit... it was all necessary to ensure you'd never leave him. not like you'd ever want to leave him anyway. he made sure you wouldn't have any hard evidence of him doing anything to threaten your club.

i mean, he's nice and sweet, isn't he? he allowed you to start a club, joined each and every one of your sessions, and even helped you advertise your club! how could you ever hate him?

really, he's just a nice president who's a little bit touchy, is all :) he's doing all this to protect you! so when will you realize that the presence of other people will do you no good?

[goldfades]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 / 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈❜𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ─ SC⁸⁷

TRACK 12 ─── LOML

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | caught in a cycle of love and heartbreak, you find yourself constantly returning to sidney crosby, the one person who promises everything but never follows through. as the years pass and the same promises echo between you, you’re left questioning if holding on is worth more than letting go

─ word count | 6.3k

─ warnings | ANGST ANGST ANGST, oh my god i teared up writing this (im on my period shut up). a rollercoaster of emotions, young love -> soulmate kinda vibe. on and off, just overall angsty (with no happy ending... its ttpd, what do u expect?) idk what else to add but like... if u need a good cry, read this

The night is colder than you remember, and the city lights are muted, softening the edges of every memory you have of this place. Pittsburgh’s skyline blurs through the frost on your windshield, each bright glow fading into the next as you pull into the parking lot of a bar you used to know so well. It’s different now—a new name, new sign, but the same chime of the bell when you push through the door, like a greeting from the past.

You used to come here all the time, back when the two of you were something. Not official, not permanent—never those things—but something more than a fling and less than a promise. He used to sit right there, at the corner booth, baseball cap pulled low and face half-hidden, and you’d slide in next to him like you belonged there. Because, for a while, you thought you did.

But now you stand there, scanning the faces, waiting to see if he’ll show. The text he sent still hangs heavy in your mind, words you could almost memorize by heart: Can we talk? I miss you. It’s always like this—a cycle you’ve danced for longer than you’d care to admit. He always says the right things, words that feel like they could anchor you in the storm of his life, but it’s always just a promise, never reality.

And that’s what scares you most.

Because this time, you don’t know if you’ll fall for it again.

───

It was summer, and everything was golden.

The sun filtered through the trees, casting shadows that danced along the edges of the makeshift hockey rink. You remember the smell of freshly cut grass, the distant hum of cicadas, and the way the air buzzed with a warmth that clung to your skin. You were barely a teenager, and the world felt infinite, stretched out before you like the blue sky above. It was one of those summer afternoons when the days felt endless and you thought you had all the time in the world.

The rink wasn’t anything special—just a patch of concrete nestled in the middle of the park, surrounded by chain-link fences and littered with the scuffs and scratches of a hundred other games. But for you, it was everything. Your brother had dragged you along, promising it would be “cool” and that the guys he played with wouldn’t care that you tagged along. You’d insisted on wearing his old jersey, the one that hung loose over your frame and brushed against your knees when you walked. It smelled faintly like sweat and summer afternoons, and even though it was too big, you wore it like armor.

He was already there when you arrived, leaning casually against the boards with his stick resting on his shoulder. He wore a backwards cap that made him look like an absolute douche, but you could still see the way his grin spread wide when he laughed. He was tall, at least compared to the other boys, and he had this presence about him—like he knew exactly where he belonged, and it was right there on that concrete. He radiated this easy confidence, the kind that made people naturally gravitate toward him, and you found yourself watching him, even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“Hey, kid, you play?” he called out as your brother introduced you to the group. His voice was light, teasing, but there was something in it that made you straighten your shoulders, determined to prove you weren’t just some tag-along.

You lifted your chin, clutching your stick a little tighter. “Yeah, I do.”

A laugh rippled through the group, and he tilted his head, an eyebrow raised in a way that seemed to dare you. “Alright, show me.”

You skated out onto the concrete, feeling the rough texture beneath your sneakers, the familiar push and glide that came as natural as breathing. You could feel the eyes on you, the judgment, the expectation that you’d stumble or falter.

But you didn’t.

You skated like you always did—like you had something to prove, even when no one was watching. You could feel the summer breeze tugging at your hair, could hear the sounds of sticks clashing, wheels spinning, and the distant shouts of kids playing in the park. The world faded into a blur of movement and sound, and for a moment, it was just you and the puck, gliding across the concrete.

When you stopped, stick planted firmly, the puck resting right where you aimed, you turned to face him. His grin had shifted into something softer, something that looked like approval. He nodded, a small movement that somehow felt like a victory, like you’d passed some unspoken test.

“You’re pretty good,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m Sidney.”

You told him your name, trying to play it cool, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something that made your heart beat a little faster. You brushed it off—he was just another kid, another boy who thought he ruled the rink. But when he passed you the puck during the game, when he skated close enough that you could hear his breath, quick and heavy, you felt something shift, like the start of a story you hadn’t planned on telling.

The hours blurred together, the sun sinking lower as the sky melted into hues of orange and pink. You played until your legs ached and your cheeks hurt from smiling. He was quick, his movements sharp and precise, but he had this way of gliding past the others like he was weightless, like he’d been born on skates. And every time he sent the puck your way, you felt that rush again, that thrill of being seen, of being chosen.

At one point, when you stopped to catch your breath, he skated up beside you, close enough that you could see the way the sunlight caught in his eyes. “You should come out more often,” he said, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. “We could use someone like you.”

You shrugged, pretending like you hadn’t already made up your mind. “Maybe.”

But deep down, you knew you’d come back.

And when he grinned, that slow, easy grin that made you feel like you were sharing a secret, you realized that maybe this was the start of something. Something that felt like endless summer days and the thrill of chasing after something just out of reach.

He was only a boy then, and you were only a girl with skates too big for your feet and dreams too big for your chest. But that was the thing about summer—everything felt possible. And standing there, the light catching in his hair and the warmth of his presence radiating like a sunbeam, you felt like you’d met someone who could make it all come true.

The years rolled on like they always do, slow and steady until you looked back and realized how quickly time had slipped by. What started as childhood games on concrete rinks and sticky summer nights turned into something deeper, something that felt like it could last forever.

When you were sixteen, things shifted. You’d always been friends, maybe even best friends. By then, he was already “Sid the Kid,” the local legend whose name was whispered with reverence around the rinks. But to you, he was just Sidney—the same boy who laughed with you when you scored, who always had an extra stick in his bag just in case, who stayed up late with you, lying on the cool grass, tracing constellations with his finger.

Somewhere between the late-night talks and the secret smiles, friendship turned into something more. It wasn’t a single moment; it was a thousand little ones, each building on the next until you both looked up and realized you weren’t just kids playing pretend anymore.

The first time he kissed you, it was right before his first big tournament. You’d been nervous for him, more nervous than he seemed to be. You’d walked down to the empty rink at dusk, the air cool and the sky the color of fading ink. You remember how his hand felt, warm and solid as it slipped into yours, and how he turned to you, eyes bright with something you hadn’t seen before. The kiss was tentative, like he was testing the waters, but it felt like fireworks, a spark in the night that you carried with you long after you pulled away.

From then on, you were something more—together but not quite official. You tried not to think about it too much, content with what you had. You showed up at every game, standing in the crowd with his number on your back, feeling that thrill when he’d glance your way. You’d spend the evenings together, sometimes in the rink, sometimes out by the water, stealing moments in between practices and tournaments. For a while, it was perfect.

Then, life happened.

He got drafted, and everything changed. He moved to Pittsburgh, and suddenly the boy who was always around, who could text or call at any hour, was miles away, caught up in a whirlwind of cameras, contracts, and the pressures of professional hockey. You were still in high school then, watching him from afar, cheering him on from a distance. You told yourself it was fine, that the distance didn’t matter, and that you were both still too young to worry about anything more than the present.

But even then, you could feel the space between you growing.

In his rookie year, you made the decision to move to Pittsburgh. You’d gotten into a college nearby, and when you called to tell him, he was ecstatic. You’d never forget the way his voice sounded on the phone—relieved, almost. Like he’d been waiting for you, hoping you’d make the leap. And so you did. You left your friends, your family, everything familiar to be closer to him. It felt like a grand, romantic gesture—the kind you saw in movies. But in the back of your mind, you knew it was more than that.

The first year was a whirlwind. You were in the stands for his games, holding your breath every time he took a shot, cheering louder than anyone when he scored. Off the ice, it felt like the two of you were creating a life together, slowly but surely. You moved in together, and even though his schedule was insane—practices, games, interviews—there were still those quiet moments.

Mornings when you’d wake up to him already gone, but with a note on the counter that read, I’ll be back soon. Evenings when he’d come home exhausted but would pull you into his arms like nothing else in the world mattered. It was enough, more than enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Somewhere along the way, the cracks started to show. At first, it was small things—missed dinners, texts that went unanswered because he was “caught up in meetings.” Then, the fights started. You’d ask him about the future—where were you going, what were you to each other? He’d dodge the questions, promising you that things would be easier once the season was over, once the next championship was done, once his contract was sorted out.

You tried to believe him, tried to convince yourself that you were both still young, that you had time. But every time you saw him, it felt like you were grasping at something that was always just slipping out of reach.

The first breakup came after his rookie season. You’d been together for two years, and you could feel the weight of it pressing down on you, the uncertainty, the feeling that maybe you’d given up too much, too soon. You remember standing in the doorway, watching him lace up his skates, and asking, for the first time, why you weren’t moving forward. He looked at you, eyes soft but distant, and said he didn’t know. That maybe things were moving too fast. You didn’t yell, didn’t cry. You just nodded, kissed him one last time, and left.

It was the first time you thought that maybe he wasn’t ready to be with you the way you needed him to be. But it wasn’t the last.

Over the next few years, it was the same dance—back and forth, the two of you pulled together by some invisible force that neither of you could name, only to be pushed apart by the same old arguments, the same doubts.

Each time you broke up, it felt like the end.

You’d tell yourself that this time, it was really over. You’d pack your things, move out, and try to rebuild your life. But then, he’d call. Sometimes it was months later, sometimes just weeks, but it was always the same: I miss you. I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready then, but I am now.

And every time, you believed him.

Maybe it was the way he looked at you, like you were the only person who really knew him, who understood the weight he carried every time he stepped onto the ice. Or maybe it was the promises he’d make when he held you close, whispering that one day he’d put a ring on your finger, that one day you’d have a family together. You told yourself that this time would be different, that you could trust him, that he was finally ready.

But each time, it ended the same way. The season would start, and he’d get caught up again—first in the games, then in the championships, then in the next contract. And you’d find yourself alone, the same questions building up, the same empty promises echoing in your head.

It went on like that for years. You tried dating other people, tried moving on, but it was always temporary. No one else felt like home the way he did, and you hated yourself for it. You’d built your life around someone who couldn’t give you the future he kept promising, and the worst part was, you kept going back.

You remember the last time you walked away. It was after another fight, the same one you’d had a dozen times before. You’d asked him about the future, and he’d given you that same look, the one that told you he was already pulling away. But this time, when he said, I just need time, you didn’t have the strength to believe him. You nodded, the lump in your throat too tight to speak, and left before he could see the tears in your eyes.

And now, you find yourself back where it all started, years later, wondering if he’s changed. If this time, when he said I miss you, it really meant something. But deep down, you already know the answer.

It’s the same as it’s always been.

───

You scan the room, your heart pounding, eyes darting from one face to another, hoping—no, dreading—that you’ll see him. Part of you wants to run, to turn around and pretend you never agreed to meet him. But the other part, the part that still holds on to the memories of you and him when things were easy, when love was simple and uncomplicated, keeps your feet rooted to the floor.

He’s always late, and you’ve learned to hate it. It’s not just a bad habit—it’s a symbol of everything between you two, a reminder that he always has something, or someone, else pulling him in another direction. Every time he tells you he’ll be there, every time you stand waiting, it’s like a countdown until he lets you down again.

You glance down at your phone, the screen lighting up with the time: fifteen minutes past when he said he’d be here. You think about leaving, about saving yourself the heartache. You’ve done this dance so many times before. You know the steps, know the way it’ll play out if you wait long enough. He’ll walk in, breathless and apologetic, and those eyes—God, those eyes—will soften when they find yours. He’ll look at you like you’re the only thing that’s kept him steady in a world that’s always moving too fast.

And you’ll feel your resolve slip, just like it always does.

Your hand tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white as you try to steel yourself against the pull of old memories. You think back to the last time you saw him, to the way he looked at you when you said enough. It had been one of those fights, the ones that started small—something about how he missed dinner again, or how you were the only one trying—and escalated into everything you’d ever bottled up. You told him you were tired of waiting, tired of hearing him say he was ready when all he ever did was prove otherwise.

He’d stood there, silent, watching you with that look—the one that said he was sorry but not enough to change. And you left, thinking that maybe this time, you’d finally meant it. That you could walk away and not look back.

But now, here you are, back in the same place, waiting.

A familiar ache spreads through your chest as the seconds tick by, every moment without him another chance for doubt to creep in. You don’t want to be here, don’t want to be the person who keeps holding out hope when all it ever does is hurt. But despite everything, you can’t help the part of you that still believes. The part that whispers this time could be different, even when you know it won’t be.

Just when you’ve almost convinced yourself to leave, the door swings open. Your breath catches as you spot him, shoulders hunched slightly like he’s unsure of how to approach. He looks older, wearier than you remember, but it’s him. The moment his eyes lock with yours, you feel it—the same rush, the same pull that’s always been there, drawing you back in.

He smiles, that small, tentative smile that used to melt your defenses. It’s like he knows exactly how to walk that line between sincerity and charm, and you hate how well it works. You fight the urge to return it, to let that familiar warmth bloom in your chest, and instead, you keep your expression neutral.

He crosses the room with that unhurried stride, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally reaches you, he stops, just a foot away, close enough that you can smell the faint hint of his cologne—a scent you’d once known better than your own. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you, like he’s memorizing the way you look right now, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and careful, like he’s testing the waters.

“Hey.” Your response is cool, guarded. You’re not going to make this easy for him, not this time.

He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck—a habit you know means he’s nervous. “I’m sorry I’m late. Got caught up—”

You cut him off, tired of the same excuses. “It’s always something with you, Sid.”

He flinches, and you almost feel guilty. Almost. But then you remember all the times you waited, all the empty promises, and you stand your ground.

“I know,” he says softly. “You’re right.”

The words hang between you, heavy with everything that’s come before. It’s different this time. Usually, he jumps right into the apologies, into telling you how much he missed you, how he’s ready now, how he’s changed. But tonight, he just stands there, the look on his face a mixture of regret and something else you can’t quite read.

And maybe that’s the problem. You’ve never been able to fully read him. You’ve spent years trying, and every time you think you’ve figured him out, he slips away. You wonder if he knows how much it hurts—wonder if he even cares.

“So, what is it this time?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest, your eyes searching his for any sign of what he’s thinking. “Why’d you want to see me?”

He exhales, a slow, deep breath that seems to carry the weight of everything you’ve been through together. “I just—” he starts, then stops, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I miss you.”

You shake your head, the familiar ache settling into your bones. “You always miss me when I’m gone.”

His gaze snaps back to yours, and for a moment, you see something raw in his eyes—something real. “No, I mean it. I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not. I’m tired of losing you.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But the words feel like echoes of promises he’s made a hundred times before. And the part of you that’s always been waiting, hoping, feels like it’s hanging by a thread.

“Prove it,” you say, your voice steady even though your heart is racing. “Because I can’t keep doing this, Sid. I can’t keep falling for the same lines.”

He takes a step closer, and for a moment, you feel the pull again—the magnetic force that’s always drawn you back to him, no matter how many times you’ve tried to walk away. You can see the struggle in his eyes, the way he’s fighting to find the right words, and you wonder if maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

But as he reaches for your hand, you can’t help but brace yourself for the familiar sting of disappointment. Because no matter what he says, you know how this story ends.

He glanced down, looking down at the promise ring on your finger. Your ring finger. The same ring he'd given you many years ago, before he left for Pittsburgh. He told you it was just the beginning, a placeholder for something bigger. Something that, back then, felt like a certainty. You remember the way he slipped it on your finger, his hands steady and sure. His eyes shone with the same excitement you felt—like the future was a road you were both eager to walk down together.

“I’ll get you the real thing one day,” he’d promised, his voice brimming with that youthful conviction. “Just wait for me.”

And you did. For years, you wore that ring like a badge of honor, a symbol of everything you believed you were building together. When he left for Pittsburgh, you told yourself it was only temporary. Distance was just another hurdle, and the two of you had overcome so many already. You visited him during breaks, and every time he came home, it felt like picking up right where you left off. You thought nothing could break that bond.

Now, standing in front of him, you can see it in his eyes—that same look he’s always given you when he knows he’s let you down. But there’s a hesitation there, too, a weight he’s carrying that wasn’t there before. You wonder if he’s finally seeing it the way you do—if he’s finally realizing that words and promises are never enough.

He reaches for your hand, his thumb grazing the cool, faded metal of the ring. “I know I’ve said it before, but I—”

You pull your hand back, your chest tightening with all the years of waiting, all the times you’ve heard those same words and let yourself believe them. “Don’t. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

His jaw tenses, and he looks up, his eyes searching yours. “I do mean it,” he says, but there’s a hint of desperation in his voice now. “I know I haven’t been fair to you. I know I’ve asked too much.”

You shake your head, the anger and sadness mixing together until they’re almost indistinguishable. “No, Sidney, you’ve taken too much. You’ve taken years of my life—years I can’t get back.”

He winces, and you can see the hurt flash across his face, but you don’t pull back. You can’t. “I’ve given up everything for you—my job, my plans, my own life—because I believed in this. I believed in us. But every time, you leave. Every time, you break your promise.”

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he can speak. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep living my life waiting for a future that’s never going to come.”

There’s a moment of silence between you, and you can see the struggle in his eyes, the way he’s fighting to find the right words—words that you know won’t change anything.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and it feels like the final nail in the coffin. “I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m here now, and I want to make it right.”

You look down at the ring, that small circle of metal that once meant everything to you. It feels heavy now, like a weight dragging you down, a reminder of all the time you’ve spent waiting for something that never happened.

“I can’t wait forever,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need more than just words, Sid.”

For a moment, it looks like he might finally say something real, something that could change everything. But instead, he just stands there, silent, and you feel your heart break a little more. Because you know, deep down, that he doesn’t have an answer. He never has.

“You still wear it,” he spoke slowly, glancing down at the ring. “Doesn't that mean something? Anything? That maybe, maybe we should give this another try?”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words settle around you like a storm cloud. It’s so typical of him, to latch onto the smallest signs, to twist reality just enough to make it feel like there’s hope. It’s the same hope that’s kept you coming back time and time again, like a moth drawn to the flicker of a flame.

But this time, that flame feels like it’s burning out.

“Sidney, I never stopped loving you,” you admit, and it’s the raw truth, the kind you’ve tried to keep buried for so long. “But love isn’t the problem. It’s everything else. It’s you telling me we have a future and then disappearing when it matters. It’s you making promises you can’t keep.”

He reaches out, fingers curling around your wrist, holding on like he’s afraid you’ll slip away for good. “I’m different now. I’m ready. I know I said that before, but this time—”

“No,” you interrupt, pulling your arm back, the frustration building in your chest. “You’ve said that every time. You tell me you’re ready, that things will be different, and I believe you because I want to believe you. But then the same thing happens—you get busy, the season gets hard, and suddenly I’m on the sidelines again, waiting for you to make time for me.”

His shoulders slump, and he looks down, like he can’t face the truth of his own words. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know I’ve messed up. But I swear, this time—”

“Sid, listen to yourself.” You cross your arms, trying to steady the tremor in your voice. “This time, next time—there’s always a next time. But it’s just a cycle. It always has been. And I don’t know if I can keep believing that things will change when they never do.”

His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s a flash of something you haven’t seen before—fear, maybe, or the realization that you’re slipping away. “But I don’t want to lose you,” he says, his voice breaking. “I can’t lose you.”

For a second, your resolve wavers. You see the boy you fell in love with, the one who used to hold your hand in the stands and tell you he couldn’t imagine his life without you. But the boy grew up, and his dreams took him places you were never a part of, no matter how hard you tried to be.

“You already have, Sid,” you whisper, feeling the ache spread through your chest. “You lost me a long time ago when you chose everything else over us. And I don’t think you even realize it.”

He steps closer, his hand hovering near your face like he’s afraid to touch you, like you’re something fragile that might break. “I’m trying, okay? I’m here now. I’m trying to make it right.”

You close your eyes, fighting the tears threatening to fall. “You always say that. But it’s not about showing up when it’s convenient for you. It’s about showing up when it’s hard, when things aren’t perfect, and proving that I’m more than just an option.”

When you open your eyes, you see the pain on his face, and it almost makes you want to take it all back, to say that you’ll try again, that you’ll believe him just one more time.

But you can’t. Not anymore.

“Tell me what to do,” he pleads, desperation clear in every word. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

But that’s just it. It’s not something you can tell him. It’s something he has to want, something he has to choose—without you holding his hand through it, without you putting your life on pause, waiting for him to catch up.

“I can’t tell you how to love me, Sid,” you say, and it feels like the hardest thing you’ve ever done. “You either do, or you don’t. But I can’t be the one always holding this together. It has to be both of us, or it’s nothing.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he hesitates, and in that silence, you feel everything shift. It’s as if the reality of the situation is finally sinking in for both of you.

“Maybe…” you start, your voice cracking, “maybe this was always going to be the end.”

His face pales, and you see the fear flash through his eyes, but you hold firm. “I can’t keep living in the past, hoping you’ll change. I need more than just words, and if you can’t give me that, then…” You take a deep breath, the weight of the years falling away with each word. “Then maybe we need to let go.”

Sidney’s lips part as if to protest, but then he stops. His hand falls away from yours, and the emptiness between you feels colder than the Pittsburgh winters.

You let out a bitter chuckle as the tears begin to fall. “We could've had a good life together, Sid. Everything you could've wanted. Kids, a nice house and some... some cute dogs,”

It seemed silly to say, but it was the truth. You swallowed as you looked, trying to stifle your incoming sobs. “And it would’ve been ours. Not just mine, or yours—ours.”

The words are raw, cutting through the stillness between you. You can feel the sobs building in your chest, threatening to spill out, but you hold them back, just for a moment longer. “But you never wanted that. Not really. Not enough to make it real.”

Sidney’s face crumples, and he looks like he’s about to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “You always talk about wanting it all—wanting me, wanting the life we could have had, but then you pull away the second it gets too real. And I’m tired, Sid. I’m so damn tired of giving everything to someone who can’t meet me halfway.”

He shifts, taking a hesitant step forward, like he’s testing the waters, his eyes pleading. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want it,” he says, voice rough and cracking. “I just—” He rubs a hand over his face, frustration evident. “I didn’t know how to balance it all. I thought I’d have more time, that we’d figure it out eventually.”

“Eventually?” you repeat, the bitterness seeping through. “Sid, we’ve been at this for years. Years of back and forth, of me waiting for you to choose me. To really choose me. And every time, it’s the same story. I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending that things will be different.”

He stands there, shoulders hunched, and you can see the struggle in his eyes. It’s the same look he’s given you countless times before, like he wants so badly to fix things but doesn’t know where to start. It makes your heart ache because you know, deep down, he’s not a bad person. He’s just… lost.

And maybe, you realize, he always will be.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “I just—every time I tried to make things work, it felt like something else came up, and I kept thinking if I waited just a little longer—”

“Then everything would magically fall into place?” you cut in, shaking your head. “Life doesn’t work that way, Sid. Love doesn’t work that way. You can’t keep putting off what you want, what you need, and expect everything to turn out okay in the end.”

He takes another step forward, reaching out like he’s about to pull you in, but you take a step back, needing the distance. “I’m not asking you to be perfect,” you say, the tears finally streaming down your cheeks. “I just needed you to try. To show up. To prove that I was worth fighting for. But it feels like every time I turn around, you’re already halfway out the door.”

His expression falters, and you know he wants to argue, to tell you that it’s different this time, that he’s ready now. But you’ve heard it all before, and the words have lost their meaning.

“I wanted the house,” you whisper, voice breaking. “I wanted the dogs, the kids, all of it. I wanted us, Sidney. And I believed we could have it. But you kept pushing it off, and now… I don’t know if I can keep waiting for something that might never come.”

He reaches out again, and this time, you let him. His hand closes around yours, and it feels both familiar and foreign—like holding on to a memory that’s slipping through your fingers.

“I love you,” he says, and there’s a desperation in his voice that makes your heart clench. “I’ve always loved you.”

You give him a sad smile, knowing that, despite everything, that much is true. “I know,” you say, squeezing his hand one last time before pulling away. “But sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

And as you turn and walk away, leaving him standing alone in the cold, you hope—maybe for the first time—that you’ll be strong enough to let go. Because you know if you don’t, this cycle will only repeat itself. And you can’t keep breaking your own heart for someone who won’t give you the life you’ve always wanted.

That night, you dreamed of the house. The kids, and the dogs and of him. You'd wake up, it would feel like how it did the day you met—warm and safe, like everything in the world had finally fallen into place.

The sun would stream through the windows of that little house you imagined, its golden light wrapping you in the kind of warmth you’d always craved. You’d roll over, and there he’d be, his arm draped lazily over your waist, his eyes still heavy with sleep but soft, so soft, like he was seeing the whole world in you.

The kids would run down the hall, their laughter echoing, filling the space between your shared breaths. You’d rise together, slowly, and there would be no rush, no impending flight or long distance to worry about. Just you, him, and that perfect slowness of a morning spent together. The dogs would bound into the room, tails wagging, and the day would unfold in simple, perfect moments—breakfast at the table, messy hair and pajamas, the feeling of his hand on yours as he refilled your coffee cup.

It would feel right.

And in that dream, it would all make sense—why you’d waited so long, why you’d kept coming back, even when you knew better. Because in that world, in that life, you had everything you’d ever wanted. It was real, and it was whole, and there were no questions, no doubts, no space for the silence that always lingered between you in reality.

But then, you’d wake up.

You’d open your eyes to the quiet, dark room, the emptiness of your side of the bed. There’d be no warm sunlight, no laughter echoing through the halls, no weight of his arm pulling you close. Just the cold, still air of your apartment, the hum of the city outside, and the realization that it was all just a dream—a dream you’d had a thousand times before, and one you knew you’d have again.

And as you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, you’d feel that ache settle in your chest. The one that reminded you that no matter how real it felt, it was only ever going to be a figment of your imagination. Because the truth was, you had to wake up alone.

In that moment, you’d wonder if he ever dreamed of it too—if he ever pictured that life, those mornings, the way you did. If he ever saw a future where he stayed, where he chose you and didn’t let go. But you knew that even if he did, it wasn’t enough. Because while you were left clinging to dreams, he was off living a life that didn’t have room for you in it.

You’d curl back into the blankets, pulling them tight around you, pretending for just one more moment that the warmth was him. That maybe, one day, you’d wake up to the life you’d always imagined, and it wouldn’t slip away like morning mist.

But until then, all you had were the dreams and the memories of a love that almost was—almost, but never quite enough.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[koiiiji]

Can I ask you to write a story about me trying to commit suicide but being saved by Wooin?🥺🥺plzzzzz😭😭

1)okay guys, i think its time to set an masterlist what i write for and what i don’t once again in my acc

2) hun, my askbox is currently closed, but this request seems…idk strange(?) if you going through some hard period now in your life, its time to ask for professional help, or at least have a talk with someone who you trust, or something like this, im not an psychologist to start this whole topic, but if there is something that bothering you, please ask for professional

3) i will make an exception, bc i usually don’t write for stuff like this, and honestly it won’t be exact stuff you asked about, just comforting(?) scenario.

enjoy💌

crowd. there are so many people everywhere, although what else did you expect, you in the club, swinging under the bit of music with the crowd, but you have already thought little. alcohol brought pleasant oblivion, but for just a couple of hours… even now, in this state, you understood this and drove these thoughts away. now you have to relax. forget. run away from this world. dissolve the safites, bright flashes of light and loud bits of music in this world.

yes, you must run away from everythi... "hello little thing"

wooin threw his hand on your shoulders. there was no familiar sweet smile and playful light in his eyes, he was gloomy as a bad day. you knew that he didn’t like when you visited such places, he sincerely thought that they did not suit you, this is not your style.

the hand that lay on your shoulder slipped to the elbow - holding it tightly - and the second free hand sank somewhere in the waist area. wooin dragged you to the exit, while you didn't really care, you didn't even understand who it was.

while alcohol was active, everything was fine. while it was seething in your blood, you were safe from your own thoughts. yes, while there was a state of intoxication, you were far from reality, head was empty, and the obsessive thoughts disappeared somewhere by itself. now you only stupidly smiled at the flickering lights and bright flashes of spotlights, your head was spinning, as was the world around you.

you felt like someone dragged you somewhere, but as long as head and thoughts were filled with music everything was in order, everything was fine. you did not worry that your legs dragged out limp on the floor, braided and stumbling itself, while head was empty. you would continue to giggle stupidly and smile if you didn't blink, and in a blink flickering lights disappeared, and the music subsided, and only the crushing silence of the wooin car. your elbow felt sick. it seems that wooin clung to you too much when he dragged your body through the entire dance floor, or hit your elbow on the rack of the car when he pushed you into the salon. he clearly wasn’t happy that he found you in that club.

but honestly? he would never have thought that he would save any girl from such situation. he is used to being responsible only for himself and no one else, but for some reason, the appearance of your drunken body, abandoned on the dance floor annoyed him, he did not like to see you like that. wooin liked it more when you turned away in embarrassment to hide your blush from his vulgar comments or when you annoyed screaming because of the mess that he divorced in your kitchen, when he once again without permission broke into your apartment.

"what the hell is going on with you?" he asked irritably fastening you with a belt, and nervously starting the engine. he was angry, apparently because of his work, or just this day was too stressful or because of your presence in that fucking club... you had no idea in your head, you just sat on a passenger seat, eyes are blurred, and without understanding where you are going at all, the only thing you recognized was his voice. car rushed off, with the ringing silence. the only thing your brain could concentrate on right now is flickering lights, only this time it was a warm light of lanterns on the streets. as the car rushed along the road, the light from the lanterns was reflected from the glass and crashed into your eyes. it’s not loud music of course, but also distracting attention, and suddenly your eyes began to feel heavy, seat in wooin’s car seemed too comfortable, unlike the crowd lingering to each other. you closed your eyes only for a moment and now already in your apartment. this time, spasms in the shoulder were added to the pain in the elbow, it seems wooin was not too gentle with you while dragging your body to the apartment.

"hey, woe party gremlin, go wash off your combat painting and go to bed, i don't have time to nurse you all night" he shouted in annoyed tone from the passage to the bath, while you were in a reclining position on the couch, trying to take off from yourself either shoes or outerwear. seems that wooin is really angry. tsking loudly, showing all his prompted irritation, wooin grabbed micellar water and a pack of cotton pads from the shelf and approached you. with his feet, he helped you finally pull your damned shoes off and pulled the sleeves of the jacket so that you finally could get out of it.

sitting down next to you on the sofa, he took you by the chin, turned your face to himself, and gently rubbed a wet disk over your face, washing off makeup. you tried to focus your attention on his face, but everything was desperately swimming in your eyes, and your eyelids seemed so heavy that you could no longer resist, falling down on his shoulder. wooin just sighed, pushing you onto the cushions of the sofa and headed to your room, pulling the blanket off the bed, he covered your body - still lying on the couch in the living room - and only for a couple of seconds held his gaze on your peaceful face.

when you woke up in the morning, you mentally thanked him for leaving a glass of water on the table. but you will never know that before leaving that night, he lingered there to gently brush a couple of strands from your face, lightly touch your hand, wondering if he should do something more, and in the end, he just left, also mentally wishing you the most peaceful dreams and a light head in the morning.

*sorry, the end turned out to be a little crumpled, im not used to writing something like that.((

[year2000electronics]

not to send the billionth ask about hlvrv but are doc and g-man intentionally narrative foils. man who would do literally anything for his family VS man who believes having a family makes you weak. like. they ARE narrative foils but was it on purpose or a happy accident. also every day i thank you for making sleepless a forzen when i feel like anyone else would've made him a benrey for Frenrey. idk it adds a little pizazz that he's the singular forzen in hlvrv and not a benrey even if him being a benrey would probably change nothing plot-wise

YESSSS and i love it. the question of "was it intentional" is a little here and there because the more i look back at hlvrv the more i forget what i was thinking of in the moment and the more i only have my notes to go off. where episode 1 was kinda me going "UHHHHHHH" and panicking looking at the building blocks that ive laid out desperately trying to smash them together. doc definitely wasnt crafted with the idea that he would have this traitor narrative in mind, and certainly he wasnt created hand in hand with gvrv. his creation was me in the notes app going "uh i need two more gordons. what would be cool. A MAD SCIENTIST MAYBE?" and things kinda fell into place from there.

i think as the live askblog stuff went on i definitely did find my footing with that though, especially as i was going in with the looming shadow of like. onceler-au-ification behind me. i wanted the science teams to play a part in them for sure. and for that connection, that bond, to play a part, and i guess as the story went on doc and freemans fates got more and more intertwined, as doc has this sort of selfish love of her family where she will stop at NOTHING to save them, and the admins whose selfish love of freeman ends up trapping all the other gordons and dangling false hope in front of them, but as the story goes on, as the gordons make these choices to reach out to each other and fight for their happy ending, thats how you see doc and the admins' loves grow into something more deeper and mature. compared to gvrv who chose to love people only as tools

ALSO YEA I LOVE SLEEPLESS. im like 90% sure zer creation was also just me scheming in the notes app like "ooooh theyll NEVER expect this one!" but also i noticed hlvrv at large had a very large forzen-shaped gap so i was like "fuck it". i agree i think making sleepless a benrey would have been tacky

[chnt-confessions]

i think i'm the only person in the entire fandom that has any genuine empathy for elijah, and i'm stuck thinking there's something deeply wrong with me for that. i feel like quite a lot of people split black on him (and joshua) and then split white on jedidiah, and sydney. the ONLY two options are to dehumanize or objectify him. no hate to jedidiah-likers, but jedidiah is not a victim. he doesn't act entirely the way he does because of trauma, he acts that way because he implicitly looks down on sydney. what kind of man jeopardizes the entire world for a man that he let gravely sick in the first place, only to gaslight and neglect him?? all this because of mommy and daddy issues that, like, 70% of the population has?? i had to headcanon extra issues and trauma for him to just to keep myself sane. i don't mean to invalidate his trauma, but he has lived such a privileged life and can easily go to therapy and yet. i'm sorry but it's bojack-horseman levels of "how tf do you expect me to feel bad for you? lmao." like, i need him to get better because people will likely die if he gets any worse, but other than i couldn't care less about this guy. i'm way more sympathetic to sydney because he's trying his best but he seems to have an empathy deficiency of some kind (it's not his fault but it is painfully obvious sometimes and i wish i could fix him but i have to fix myself first because i also deal with this); i also relate to the "feeling unlovable" aspect of things.

we have only seen elijah at his worst. the elephant man is elijah "mental breakdown, 2 years and counting psychotic episode" core; did everyone just assume he was born like that? and if he was, that would also make me sad tbh. he had a similar upbringing to jedidiah and yet he does not show it at all and i'm wondering what tf was different. he also generally sucks at being a villain sometimes (i.e. telling sydney his weakness, letting sydney go back to jedidiah, reacting way better than most people would when sydney told him that he couldn't get the journals). when jedidiah says "sydney, you're always fine." vs when elijah says it; jedidiah said it to gaslight sydney and because he feels bitter about the fact he's working so hard to keep sydney alive and can't use it to manipulate him (i'm joking but i'm also not joking), while elijah was just being a little acolyte and also he's symbolically the earth, so when he says the earth will catch him when he falls, he is fr. idk what snapped in him with the murder-suicide thing but considering that he is the earth, and unfortunately due to sydney's weird little mind and jedidiah's horribleness, the earth is, like, post-apocalyptic now so it probably has something to do with that (idk why he switched from stabbing to burning alive; probably cuz of the theatrics/j). anyway, he does suck and he needs to go back to russia and never come back for everyone's good, but i really do think he would be better than jedidiah could ever be (yes, even with therapy; i'm literally speaking facts/hj) if "everyday [wasn't] a living fucking nightmare." and i'm constantly like "._." whenever i remember that jedidiah is the reason "everyday is a living fucking nightmare." also i really wanna see someone do elijah/the elephant man analysis/interpretation that doesn't reek of disgust and hatred (or lust; do whatever you want, but i'm judging you rn), just for variety tbh. here is his official playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/389N5sUULTXFC63I3CSn7c?si=756dacaa18cd491c some of the songs in here are, like, "???" and i want to see someone's else's take on them (even elijah haters tbh) sorry for the essay, that's all i wanted to say :)

also im so happy that i can say this anonymously, thank you chnt-confessions for doing god's work, i love you platonically <3

(ABOUT THE LAST PART) no need to apologize and I'm really glad to make you happy!!

[cavejebus]

my adam playlist is about 20 songs now, so im gonna post it even though it is still a WORK IN PROGRESS!!!! ill add onto it when i wanna ofc, but i just wanna share a lil bit of my visionnn <3 expect a lot of linkin park lmao

some songs might not show up on the tumblr preview so i highly recommend going to the actual playlist if you have spotify!!

and batuta din moldova is there too cuz why not

below is a few categories and explanations for most songs!!!

ANGSTY SHIT

songs I thought either the lyrics or vibe had something to do with his angst... usually has to do with his background, during the trap, after the trap (whether he survived or not), or just headcanons :P

1. paper cuts - nirvana

"my whole existence is for your amusement", "why do they not try to escape?"

i THINK this song is about this dude who is like, in a really shitty kidnapping situation.... or something idk don't quote me on that :P it gives off the vibe of how it must've felt being in the bathroom all alone :( waiting for his boyfriend to save him :(

2. pictures of me - elliot smith

"you'll be the victim of your own dirty tricks", "i'm not surprised at all and really, why should i be?", "so sick and tired of all these pictures of me")

i like the whole pictures tie in.. the song isn't rlly about this, but some lyrics seem like how he would feel about being in a trap. like "I'm not surprised jigsaw chose me for this, my life is shit!!" ofc that would be if he knew who jigsaw was beforehand....... self deprecating shit yknow

3. given up - linkin park

"stuck in my head again//feels like i'll never leave this place//there's no escape", "thought i was focused, but I'm scared//i'm not prepared", "i hyperventilate//looking for help somehow, somewhere//and no one cares"

OK so first quote from this that I chose is like, how he sees his life as some useless "live to die" type thing, then the next quotes are how he realizes that he REALLY doesn't wanna die at the end of the trap. despite his whole "my life is shit I hate my job yadda yadda" talk, he still begs for his life once it's really in danger!!!

4. black heart - stone temple pilots w/ chester benningtion

"rescue me//(If you don't mind)"

lawrence......rescue this bitch....... ok but this song is mostly vibes, it can have angsty vibes :P

5. go with the flow - queens of the stone age

"she said, "i'll throw myself away//they're just photos after all", "i can't make you hang around//i can't wash you off my skin"

MORE PHOTO STUFF!!!!!! love it when it all ties in......... for the second quote its kind of a chainshipping thing... i cant make you hang around, adam goin "don't leave me!!!!" and i cant wash you off my skin, lawrence left his frickin bloody handprint on adams face.... oughh

6. and one - linkin park

"left all alone//far from my home//no one to hear me, to heal my ill heart", "it's too late to love me now//you don't even know me"

this song just generally gives angsty adam vibes, but the second quote is TOTALLY CHAINSHIPPING..... like they literally just met but already have such a connection since they went thru all that SHIT. but uh its too late for them to live a happy normal life together cuz lawrence never came back womp womp!! i can see adam sitting there waiting like "he don't even know me why tf would he come backk"

VIBES/STUFF HE'D LIKE

whether its based off of whatever tf he was listening to in his headphones that one time, or just based off of the time... i think his music taste would generally be pretty vast, while still staying around nu metal and alternative rock

1. one step closer, papercut, don't stay - linkin park

its 2001, hybrid theory has been release and is already fairly popular, i'd assume :P plus I think he'd favor linkin park since they've got a lot of complexity, as opposed to some mindless nu metal around that time

2. guns (are for pussies), down - 311

AGAIN with the rap x rock wtf!!!! he also like, cares about politics and probably trash talks all those gun loving dummies

3. brain stew - green day

who tf doesnt like this song... but it is about rotting in your room and he probably does that often <3

4. break stuff - limp bizkit

DO I HAVE TO SAY WHY I PUT THIS ONE???? ITS BREAK STUFF LIMP BIZKIT COME ON!!!!

5. the fear (flipped) - the shins

honestly have no idea why, but its giving adam!!! dunno what the song is about, but i glanced at the lyrics mentioned a bong and i was like "haha adam smokes weed"

6. tired of sex - weezer

he would like pinkerton, but i kinda only like this song off of it :P i don't listen to much weezer

7. blister in the sun, kiss off - violent femmes

i kinda just wanted to add in the acoustic sounding shit, but i do think adam would listen to violent femmes!! and you should too!!!

8. break it to me - muse

have y'all noticed that he kinda lied a lot during the trap? sure he isn't a good liar, but he seems like he's cool with lying for whatever reason... i just kinda picked this one cuz i needed to add some muse and the song kinda says shit about lying and stuff idk!!

CHAINSHIPPING SHIT

other than the angsty chainshipping in the "angsty shit" category, these just have cutesy lil lawrence x adam stuff <3 sorry to SHOVE chainshipping down your throat but whatever love is love

1. add it up - violent femmes

not specifying which lyric even though there IS one, i'm just embarrassed to say <3 but uh the only thing stopping them from making out sloppy style on top of john kramer was their chains :P

again, i WILL be adding more to this :3 but here's just my thoughts for now. im TOTES not just projecting my music taste onto adam hahahahhhhahahhahahhhaaa he's just so ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry if none of this makes sense!!!

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 20 - Dave York

Numb

Pairing: Dark!Dave York x afab!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, dddne, this is not the darkest thing I've written, but it is the darkest I've posted. Non-con piv, non-con knife play, reader gets cut, blood as lube, spit kink, spit as lube, degrading nicknames, restraints, Dave is MEAN, multiple slaps, literal abuse, stockholm syndrome vibes? Stuff im forgetting

Summary: Dave comes home after a rough day to find out that you didn't do the one thing he asked for.

A/N: Y'all, I want to like this one so bad, but I just read over it and I didn't think it was as good as I anticipated. 😭 Maybe it's just because I know I wrote it, or maybe I'm just tired out of my mind. Idk, I'll try to read it in the morning. Anyways, please keep in mind that this is a DARK FIC. If you don't like it, don't read it.

****

You’re sitting on the couch, idly watching TV when Dave gets home. You smile brightly, jumping up from the sofa to greet him at the door, resisting the urge to cross your fingers in hopes that he’s in a good mood. 

You had pampered yourself today, making yourself look soft and pretty, your hair shiny and perfectly in place. You had slipped on a dress that he had brought home a week or so ago as a reward. He’d been so happy and kind that week, and you’d felt so special with the way he paid so much attention to you. 

You hope that he’ll do the same again when he sees you like this, all dolled up just for him. Though it’s a reward enough just to know when you have his approval. 

“Hey, baby,” you say tentatively as you peak your head into the doorway. 

Dave turns around to look at you as he takes off his coat, his expression blank as he takes in your appearance. Your smile falters, though you try to keep it up. His eyes are dark, his jaw set with a particular hint of annoyance. He’s had a bad day. 

Ignoring the part of your brain that screams at you to go hide, you step toward him slowly. He doesn’t move as you approach, just continues to watch as you gently undo his tie and hang it up on the rack next to his coat. 

The air is thick with tension around the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. Where your gaze is hesitant, exposing the fact that you have to put effort into not cowering in his presence, his is hard, revealing the fact that he gains something from your submission. 

You try so hard not to be afraid of him anymore, but you just can’t help it sometimes. He’s good to you when you’re good, only mean when he says you’re not. The only problem is that he seems to decide when you’re acting good or bad, even if you’re on your best behavior. 

Because of this, you’re in a constant state of reluctance and worried anticipation. You never know when he’s going to snap again. 

“D-Dave?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Do you want to talk–” 

“Would you shut the fuck up for just one second?” He’s quick to interrupt as he shoves past you and into the kitchen. You close your eyes, gulping down the sudden disappointment that bubbles in your throat. 

That’s okay, though. You’ll brush it off. You’re probably just over-reacting again. 

You sigh and spin on your heel to follow him into the kitchen. 

“Are you hungry? I can make you something if you wan–”

“Christ, woman! Do you have a damn off switch? If I want something, I’ll fucking tell you I want it.” 

You reel back at his harsh words, not expecting them quite this early. You open your mouth to comply, but the warning look he gives you makes you shut it and nod instead.

He moves to the sink, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands, when he stops abruptly in front of it. For a moment, you’re confused, but then you remember what you had forgotten to do today. Your eyes go wide and your stomach drops. 

“I ask you for one. fucking. thing,” Dave says, his back turned toward you. His voice makes you shudder, the tone much too low to mean anything good. He turns around now, fury in his eyes as he breaks under the last straw. 

“Useless goddamn bitch,” he slowly seethes, stalking toward you. Your breathing goes shallow, your body tingly as you watch him get closer, already knowing what's to come. 

You sink back, your ass hitting the floor as you scootch back until you hit the wall. You’re cowering, your body already shaking as you wrap your arms around your head and squeeze yourself into the tiniest ball possible. 

“Dave, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget, IswearIswearIswear, please, I–”

You're cut off by your own scream as Dave yanks you up by your hair, your scalp stinging as strands rip from the force he uses to pull your face to his. You’re blubbering as he spits degrading remarks your way, far too panicked to hear everything he’s saying. 

You catch snippets here and there as you push against his chest, only serving to hurt your tender head more as he tightens his grip on your hair to keep you close. 

“Fucking dumb—can’t remember shit—Don’t even know why I keep you here—can’t even tell you to do the dishes–”

He just keeps going, every beration digging into your skin until you feel like you’re being coddled by razors. 

“D-Dave, Please–” you try to stop it, even though you know better. His hand comes down sharp across your cheek before you can even process it being raised. Your neck aches from the way it’s forced to the side, almost distracting you from the stinging pain coming from your reddening skin. 

You choke on a sob, your tears stopping momentarily from the shock. Through the ringing in your ears and the pain that spreads through your jaw, you register how your makeup has been messed up from your crying, and you almost want to laugh with how stupid of a thought that is. 

You don’t, of course, because Dave’s quickly pulling you back to reality with a firm hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes. Tears continue to run hot down your face as you let him move you, feeling too defeated at this point to try anything else. 

“You hear me, bitch?” He asks, giving your jaw a firm shake. You blink at him, forgetting at this point that you have the ability to speak at all. It’s not like he would hear you anyway. 

“Said I’m gonna get some fucking use out of you. Seems there’s only one thing a dumb whore like you is good for.” 

You just keep watching him, your expression fallen as you watch it happen. Again. What else can you do? It’s never helped to do anything else before. 

He snarls, clearly annoyed that you’re not giving him another reason to reprimand you. He stands to his full height, tossing you back to the floor as he does so. 

The back of your head knocks forcefully against the tile, and you feel your teeth rattle as the light above you starts to blur. You think faintly that you may want to move, but your body doesn’t want to comply. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You settle for blankly watching Dave as he tugs his belt through the loops before unzipping himself. His eyes stay on you the entire time, and you think you whimper at some point because of the smirk on his face. 

You hate the way your tears run thinly into your hairline, settling there uncomfortably, but you can’t be bothered to wipe them away. You’re tired, you just want to disappear. Unfortunately, you know you can’t do that, so you settle for the next best thing—staying still and silent in hopes that you can block everything out, dissociate yourself somehow. 

Your body jolts as Dave kneels down in front of you, pulling your hips closer to him. You must have been watching the light again, lost in your hazy thoughts. A pathetic sob slips through your lips, and you taste blood as they open. You must have bit your bottom lip when you hit the floor—or maybe it was split from the slap. You don’t know. Don’t care at this point. You just want this to be over. 

Vaguely, you register that it hasn’t even started. 

“You just going to lay there?” Dave points out more than asks as he reaches for your panties. “You really are damn stupid. Must want this, fucking slut.” 

Your eyes close tightly as you feel your panties get ripped in half. 

He’s right, you are stupid. Only a stupid girl would let this happen. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

The word repeats like a chant in your head, your eyelids tightening and your lips quivering. Your body shakes and shakes, it’s all it can do through the headache you’re starting to get from the screaming in your mind. 

Another harsh crack makes you gasp, trying pitifully to take a breath as you take in the fact that he just slapped you again. You feel it less this time, though you don’t know why. 

“Look at me,” he spits once your eyes are opened again. Hesitantly, you look into his eyes, trying with all your might to keep them open. It’s like a nightmare, and the only way you can escape is for you to shut your eyes. 

The only difference is that this is real, that even if you closed them, you would still be able to feel the way he notches himself at your entrance, still feel his threatening stare, still feel every ache and pain that he inflicts on your body. 

He grunts as he starts to shove his cock into your unprepared cunt, and your mouth falls open to squeal at the sudden burn between your legs. No sound comes out, your tongue thick and dry as sandpaper. 

He doesn’t stop you this time when your eyes screw shut in pain, your body squirming beneath him as you try to get away. Your fingers twitch, as if just now regaining the ability to move. 

Dave chuckles at you before pressing a hand to your abdomen and spitting onto your pussy, letting his saliva run down to where his cock is half-way disappeared inside of you. He repeats this action three times before there’s enough lubrication for him to slide the rest of the way in. 

“Tight little hole. All mine to ruin.” 

Dave grabs your face again, pinching your cheeks until you look at him through blurry eyes. As soon as they’re open, you can watch him spit on your face, already soaked from your own fluids. 

You heave, trying to control your breathing as he starts to rock in and out of you, keeping a firm grasp on your face. You need to let it happen, the sooner he gets what he wants, the sooner this is over. It needs to be over. Let it be over. 

His pace grows quicker and more harsh, a sob leaving you each time he punches into you with his thick cock. It hurts so much, always does when you’re dry like this. 

Suddenly, your arms are pulled above your head, Dave’s cock still shoved inside of you as he ties your wrists with the remnants of your panties. 

“I have something for you, slut,” Dave tells you, a tear slipping down your cheek as you keep trying to imagine yourself far away. 

That quickly becomes hard to do, because there’s suddenly a gross feeling coming from above your cunt and to the left. The feeling of your skin being sliced open. 

As soon as you realize what’s happening, a scream you didn’t know you had erupts from somewhere deep inside you. It’s full of an agonizing pain as your senses hone in on the way his pocket knife digs deeply. 

You know what he’s doing, what he’s threatened before. 

You know that the next time you look in the mirror, you’ll be able to see Dave York’s initials carved in front of your hip, deep enough to leave an ugly, jagged scar. 

Dave laughs as you scream and try to simultaneously move away and keep your body still. You don’t know what would be worse right now. 

It’s a white hot pain that courses through you as he moves on to the next letter, his movement sloppy from the way he still shallowly thrusts into you. The wetness of your blood dribbles down until it reaches his cock, making the glide easier yet as he pushes it back into you. 

He laughs even after your screaming stops, the shock taking over you and halting all reactions but the silent sobs that wrack your entire body. He pulls the knife away after a moment, after he’s sure he’s dragged the edge deep enough to be permanent.  

Your gaze focuses on the kitchen light again, and you can hear someone calling raspily for help. It’s weak and wet sounding, and you don’t quite understand where it’s coming from because you swear you’re not trying to say anything. 

“God damn,” Dave grits out. “Will you ever shut your whore mouth?” 

You suppose you do, because the sound stops, and the kitchen is filled with nothing but your whimpers and Dave’s moans. You can feel him getting close, the way he stutters and pulses. 

“Gonna come in this tight little pussy,” he grits, grinding himself down.

You don’t care what he’s going to do. You’d let him do anything to ensure that this will stop, that it won’t go on forever. You just want it to stop. 

You don’t realize he’s coming until he’s almost done. His seed stings as it hits your burning walls. 

You’ve stopped crying. Your throat’s dry, your eyes sting, your cheeks ache, your cunt throbs, your hips are littered with tender bruises, yet your mind is numb. 

Dave only lingers for a moment before he lifts off of you. He chuckles to himself as he says something, but you don’t think you could hear what even if you tried. Your hands fall limply away from each other as he uses his bloody pocket knife to cut away your restraints.

Your eyes close as he walks away, and you don’t try to open them again.

**** Thank you for reading, please lmk if you would like to join the countdown taglist <3

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian @yorksgirl

Link to prompt list

[dungeonclown]

Dungeonclown D20 “Rankings”

In quotes bc i love pretty much all of them and just had to post this for posterity and if one of my friends asks which season(s) to watch. [Bullet Points not in any particular order]

Level 0: did not finish

Pirates of Leviathan (lovely cast but i couldnt get all the way thru due to audio quality issues from being the first remotely recorded show.)

Shriek Week (gabe hicks)

Coffin Run (didn’t hold my interest)

Level 1: I Really Like This 😊

Fantasy High Sophomore Year (i love this season, literally the only downside was the livestream format. No!!)

Fantasy High (OG - we’ve come so far)

Tiny Heist (i mean, so darling, so funny. what so u expect)

Mice & Murder (better quality for remote but could tell the cast would have killed it in person since the zoom call situation is a big barrier)

Misfits & Magic (very cute and wholesome. Spaulding forever)

The Seven (needed more episodes to tell the story!!! wish they had sets and minis; covid problems)

Neverafter (love the themes and imagery, such a good study on storytelling.)

Dungeons & Drag Queens (fave sidequest character art and minis, mainly so impressed by brennans skill as a gm for new players/roleplayers)

Level 2: I Absolutely Love This 🤩

Fantasy High Junior Year (first show watched as it was airing, best FH yet, mary anne skuttle what more could u ask for)

Unsleeping City Part 2 (literally only downside is being filmed remotely. Breaks my heart they couldnt do this in person since this season is so special. BUT - got to see character art and illustrated backgrounds which was really fun)

A Crown of Candy (goddamnit brennan)

The Ravening War (goddamnit matt)

Mentopolis (superb cast w great chemistry and just lots of fun idk man i just think theyre neat)

Burrow’s End (fucking incredible storytelling by aabria, the cast, the crew w sets and minis and SHADOW PUPPETS goddamn.)

Never Stop Blowing Up (so stupid so joyful im just happy to be here)

Level 3: Has a Special Place In My Heart 🥰

Unsleeping City (some of my all time favorite characters and i just love how deeply these people love and understand New York City. Its the molecular structure of NYC in a show and its special)

Escape from the Bloodkeep (the first season i was like I Have To Stop Immediately And Share This With My Family. Every character is perfect. Every NPC is perfect. The minis and sets are darling. Every day i think about Hamhead and about muh hert)

A Court of Fey & Flowers (i just love them, i never thought id be invested in regency shit but if you put it in the feywild and add goblins and hobgoblins and owlbears and idiot bird people and shit im so down goddamn. Killed it. Absolutely killed it. Also gorgeous sets and costumes and props??? Gagged.)

Level 4: Rewired My Brain Chemistry 💀

A Starstruck Odyssey (screaming, crying, throwing up. The energy of these people being in person after covid creates a truly incredible maelstrom of dumb beautiful bozo shenanigans. id give a kidney for more ASO content. I Love This Show. And that it was based off of Starstruck is so fuckin special. This setting is amazing. also big barry syx is the exact bullseye of character im obsessed with that it makes me feral to think about him. I was going to joke that he was made in a lab specifically to appeal to my big beefy sex idiot himbo mercenary sensibilities but thats exactly his backstory and im mad about it)

[vllergy]

emerges from the ether for 5 seconds before vanishing again--i don't post here often i go through phases, the moon has phases i have phases whatever but i've been playing a lot of b@lders g@ate and while i don't think i'll ever feel comfortable writing canon character content (maybe h@lsin??? g@le??? who knows) this one NPC interaction had me by the throat. feat: tw: canon courtesan/sex worker NPC, kink!reader, second person narration since the game is like that, hunky sneezy drow man, honestly a lot of build up for little payoff im sorry idk what happened. i also don't know the word count im useless (dialog is in-game dialogue up until the lil time skip to his room, then it's all me baybbyeee)

The drow is one of the most handsome you’ve ever seen. Not that you expected him to be ugly, of course. The fabled drow twins of Sharress’ Caress are known far and wide for their talents as well as their beauty. Its just, seeing them in person is quite different from sustaining on mere rumor alone. Sorn Orlith, as he introduces himself, is rather muscular for a drow. He stands nearly a good head taller than you with a broad, brazenly defined chest. His outfit is nothing more than a metal cage topped over his heavy shoulders and flared out down his sternum like witch’s fingers, pointing towards an abdomen taut with muscle.

His long skirt rides around his hips but you can still see the shadow of indents against bluish-gray skin there, as if they are inviting you to take a closer look. They likely are. Nothing about his appearance is not meticulously crafted to draw you in. From the slight sheen on his lips that are plush and naturally the color of ripe blueberries, to the way his wintry hair is falls effortlessly back from his face in perfect waves. He is a vision, and yet his eyes are not cold and imperious like you might expect. They’re warm. Inviting. Somehow kind, despite what kind of debauchery goes on in a place like this. 

You ask him how he ended up here in the first place. Apparently, the Underdark isn’t kind to male courtesans. Also, he was bored.

“The entirety of drow culture is obsessed with bondage beyond reason. While such activities have their charms, I yearned to reach greater depths.” He gives a dazzling smile. “And there is no society on this planet more laterally, imaginatively and confusingly depraved as that of Baldur’s Gate. Although of late, I do feel I’ve seen everything. Perhaps you’ll show me something new?”

Your throat goes dry. 

“I’m…glad you’re happy here,” you manage out. 

Sorn laughs, but not unkindly “I’d have to restrain myself far more than any play-bindings do if I worked in another field. This is a place where I can be myself boundlessly.” 

His arms widen, emphasizing the violet taut flesh of muscle in his shoulders and biceps. You do your best not to stare.

“There are so many who come to me speaking of a fixation that no one else has ever been able to share with them…” he leans close, “And never will again. 

He smells of bergamot and brandy. It’s intoxicating. “A once in a lifetime moment of passion. Every day. What could be better? Don’t you want to try it?”

You do. And he can tell. His grin widens, almost wolfish. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to miss my signature Menzoberranzan Love Trick.”

—

With the door to Sorn’s private room shut, you feel a sense of calm overwhelm you. The room is beautiful—long enough to be someone’s home, crystals and plants glowing in every corner, a bed surrounded by flowers, shadows in all the right places. It looks like it was plucked free from the most beautiful parts of the Underdark and brought here to Wyrms Crossing. It feels comforting. Safe. 

“Now, are you going to tell me about this little secret of yours? Or would you prefer to keep me in the dark?”

Sorn’s voice startles you and he slips a hand around your waist, nosing at your neck as he comes from behind you. He releases you at the reaction, but doesn’t make a show of it. He’s masterful at what he does. Reading his partner, gauging their comfort level, adjusting and maneuvering as necessary. Your blushing cheeks must give you away because he gives you an encouraging smile instead and reaches for your wrists.

“Come, let us sit first. I find it’s easier to talk like that.”

He leads you to the foot of the bed. The sheets are luxurious, obsidian satin, and the mattress sinks with your weight. He sits close, angling his body towards you, but not so close as to crowd you. Your knees touch. You can see his breath flexing the hardened muscles of his torso and chest as he lingers there, expectant but not impatient. His hands cover yours in your own lap.

“It’s perfectly all right to be nervous,” Sorn continues, “But I assure you, your secret is safe with me. And not only that, it is *treasured*. I meant what I said earlier. There is very little that surprises me these days. Should you present me with something unexpected, I will be noting more than delighted.” 

You avoid his eyes, despite how gentle they are. You’ve never said this in front of anyone. But he’s right. Odds are, there are multiple someones in Baldurs Gate who have stranger interests than you. Sorn has likely indulged them all and without complaint. As he said downstairs, he rather enjoys this aspect of his work. Still, your tongue is in knots as you work up the nerve to say it. Your eyes travel up from his chin to his perfectly shaped mouth, the cupids bow of his lips and then finally the long, aquiline shape of his nose. It’s a fine nose. Prominent on his face and somehow as elegant as the rest of him, it captivates your attention for a moment. 

When you realize you’ve been staring for a moment too long, the confession rushes out of you in a breath, “Sneezing.”

Your face feels like it might explode from the heat. Sorn blinks. You expect him to laugh, or tell you to leave the room, or some other horrible outcome but instead he merely tilts his head. His hands give yours an assuring squeeze.

“And what about it do you like, my love?”

You lean over with a groan. You truly cannot believe you’re having this conversation—but his warm chuckle sends something fluttering in your chest and you gather the courage to straighten back up again and look him in the eye.

“I’m…not quite sure, I just know I enjoy it,” you say carefully, “And when my partners do it.”

“Mmm,” he says, contemplating, “So you’d like it if I sneezed for you then?”

Your lips purse, holding the answer hostage in your throat. You nod helplessly instead. He laughs again and releases one of his hands to brush a knuckle along your cheek.

“Look how red you are, it’s positively darling. Was that all, little bird? That was what you were so afraid to tell me?”

You nod again, nearly in tears. It’s off your chest now and it feels incredible, but it’s also freeing in a way that makes you feel raw and exposed. He’s being so kind about it that you’re not quite sure how to react. Emotions clash together, warring for dominance inside the confines of your skull. 

Sorn seems to understand immediately. His hand skirts below your jaw and tips your chin up as he leans forward and captures your lips with his own. It’s a simple, nearly chaste kiss. So featherlight and innocent that it feels like the sun peeking through the clouds. “Shh, shhh,” he soothes as he pulls away, “I think it’s wonderful. I will say it’s the first time I’ve encountered it, but I think it’s quite endearing.” He pulls away a little further, leaving you breathless. His white smile gleams. “And what an exciting challenge besides!” 

He releases you fully and stands from the bed, his hands on his hips. He looks about the room, brow furrowed in concentration. You’re still a little dazed from the kiss, wondering how he manages to taste like brandy and sweetwine and smell as good as he does while also trying to get your brain to stop swimming. You blink a few times to get your bearings as Sorn stalks to one of his shelves.

“Now, the only trouble is—“ he starts as he rifles through a few things, “There isn’t much that makes me sneeze, I’m afraid.”

Your stomach wilts a bit. Perhaps it was too much to hope that this strapping drow would have a terrible allergy to lavender. Though, to be fair, he hardly looks like the type to be beset by anything so pedestrian. Sorn is so maddeningly put together. From his perfect hair, meticulous ensemble and finely crafted expressions, he is clearly a man that keeps up appearances. Decorum is important to him. Should he ever be laid low by an allergy, you imagine he would fight it with the all the dignity and stoicism he so proudly displayed. 

Still—you didn’t work up all this nerve just to get here and *not* have anticipated something like this happening. Shyly, you let your fingers linger over the vial in your pocket. 

“I…may have something that will help,” you say.

Sorn turns from the shelf with what looks like a raven feather in his hand, his eyes bright. He looks positively delighted at the news.

“Oh I love when my clients come prepared,” he says, “You are a dream.”

“We could try that first, though,” you say, gesturing to the feather. There’s definitely something to that idea and it’s already stirring a feeling in your belly that has you shifting on the bed and your heart rising. There’s no possible way Sorn can know this, but somehow you sense he does, because his eyes sharpen their focus on you and his grin goes syrupy. 

“Lovely,” he comments and returns to your side. As he sinks back into the mattress, he gestures a hand. “Is here all right? Or would you like to do it somewhere else?”

“Here is fine,” you choke out. The idea that this is happening, really happening, is making your brain turn to lightning. You can hardly wait. 

He holds out the feather to you, “I assume you’d like to do the honors?”

You nod. The feather has little weight to it, and it’s gorgeous up close. The black shimmers with hues of purples and blues in the low light, glimmering in the reflection of your eyes. You run your eyes along the length of it and then find yourself starting at Sorn again, heart in  your throat.

“Is it… all right if I touch you?” you ask. You lean forward, hand with the feather outstretched, but think you may need to position yourself a little closer and brace yourself on his shoulder to get a good angle.

“Darling,” he laughs. He suddenly seizes your wrist and brings you closer, lowering his voice near your ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

You gulp as he slides back, demure and innocent as if he hadn’t just made goosebumps appear along your arms and thighs with his words alone. A nervous smile paints your lips and you do finally take his shoulder in your hand. You’re kneeling almost into his lap at this point and to support you, he draws an arm around your back. It’s so intimate you’re almost dizzy with the closeness alone, and you haven’t even gotten to—

The feather brushes at the corner of his mouth and his mouth twitches in a smile. Even just that response alone makes your heart race. From there, you slowly move it up to the indent above his mouth, and then his septum. He wrinkles his nose, skin avoiding the stimulation on instinct before he wrests his control back. He smiles but says nothing, allowing you to continue. 

You draw the tip of the feather around one nostril. It quivers in response, but otherwise, Sorn’s eyes remained focused on you. You test a bit farther, drawing slow, soft circles. There isn’t anything for a few seconds, and then he starts to blink, irritated tears prickling in his eyes. He sniffs a few times and then has to cough, politely turning his head away on instinct as he does so. “Apologies,” he says and then grins, “What a strange sensation.”

“Are you all right?” you ask. 

“Very much so,” he nods, “Please, continue.”

You do, but to mixed results. You’re certainly irritating his nasal passages, but sadly not enough to make him sneeze. After a few minutes of attempting, all you’ve really done is making him cough and cry irritated tears. Disappointed, you’re about to give up when he takes your wrist again, holding the feather inside his nose.

“W-wait,” he says, “I had it for but a moment.”

Your heart stutters. Carefully, you twist the feather as you had been a moment earlier. His eyelashes, pale as new fallen snow, sweep his cheeks and a breath catches on the roof of his mouth. The hand that was around your wrist falls slack, fingers drifting down towards your elbow.

“Yes, I feel it,” he whispers. 

His grip around your back tightens and he draws in another breath. His eyebrows crumple and hoist upwards and his nose practically twitches. 

“Hh—hiiyh—“ 

As his expression snaps, you pull the feather away just in time. His head wrenches away as the sneeze whisks through him. 

“Hi-ISSHh!” 

It’s a spartan, nearly soft sound. Wet, given the amount of torture his nose has been put through for the last few unproductive minutes, but otherwise without frills or embellishments. It’s a very honest sneeze you think, but perhaps one he was not entirely prepared for. By his clenched teeth you think he might have held back at the last moment out of some sense of propriety. The way he lightly touches the backs of his knuckles to the underside of his nose in the aftermath and gives a delicate sniff further enforces your theory. 

Still, it was a sight. 

“Blessings,” you say, enraptured. 

Sorn recovers quickly and smiles at you. 

“Did you—snf—enjoy that? I am sorry it took so long.”

Your red cheeks are enough of a glowing recommendation, but you nod anyway. Feeling a little braver, and a little desperate for him now that you’ve seen him lose control the once, your hand slips down against his abdomen. The warm skin there flexes against your palm as he breathes in. He hums a soft noise of approval and clasps his hand over yours before leaning in to kiss you. There’s just the briefest moisture in the kiss, only you would ever notice it, and it sets your brain on fire. 

“Perhaps we should try your method instead,” he suggests when he pulls away for a breath, kissing a line across your jaw and to your throat next, “It might be more…productive.” 

You feel dizzy. His hand skirts along your thigh and meets the joint of your hip, squeezing with enough pressure to make you moan. 

“If you’re sure,” you say, “It can be…strong.” It’s only fair to warn him, after all. Everyone reacts differently, but you’ve never not seen it work on someone.

“All the better,” he hums against the hollow of your throat, nipping softly at the skin, “I simply won’t have you leaving here disappointed.”

You shift upwards to get access to your pocket. Sorn discards the sodden feather and watches with curious, eager eyes. When you reveal the tiny glass vial, he smirks. 

“I see,” is all he says before nodding his head toward the collection of pillows at the head of the bed, “Let’s get more comfortable first, shall we?”

Moments later, you’re lying side by side, both propped up by pillows and surrounded by the soft glowing plants and crystals that make a canopy of the bed. Sorn holds himself up on an elbow and examines the vial that looks comically small in his much larger fingers. You lay your cheek against one of the pillows and stare up at him, still feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. You’d thought this would have gotten easier after seeing it happen once, but the idea of seeing it happen again is almost worst. Now that you know the sound, know how his lip curls a little, how his eyes flutter—all you want to do is see it more, see him unravel.

“So, just a pinch of this?” Sorn asks. He seems more curious than anything. Like he doesn’t quite totally believe that whatever is in there is actually going to be able to make him sneeze.

“Mhmhm,” you say. 

He grins and sets to work. A hefty pinch between his thumb and forefinger is gathered and then quickly—and in a rather sophisticated manner—snorted up one nostril. It doesn’t seem to cause him any harm like you worried it might, and he merely clears his throat once it’s over and brushes his hands off. 

“Oh, it’s lovely,” he comments, “Almost medicinal.” 

You can’t answer him because you can’t breathe. You’re waiting for something. Anything. A flicker of his expression, a quiver of his nose, something to indicate that the powder is set to work. But nothing happens. Sorn merely looks back at you questioningly. 

“When does it start to take effect?” he asks.

“Usually right away.”

He frowns, “Oh. Perhaps I should take more?”

You saw the amount he took. It was already sizable. Any more and you’d be concerned for him. You quickly shake your head, “No, I wouldn’t. Maybe it’s just…slow to start.”

Sorn huffs, his disappointment mirroring your own. He sets the vial aside and turns back to you, pulling you flush against his body. That’s still nice, sneezing or no. Every hard angle of him presses against you and the heat of his skin makes you shudder. He kisses you deeply and you can still smell the slightly earthy scent of the powder on him as you return it. 

“I’m terribly sorry,” he murmurs close to your mouth, “I’ve done nothing but disappoint you tonight.”

You blink up at him, “That’s not true!” 

He sighs and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ear. “It is, but I promise you, I will make it up to you. We still have plenty of time, and there are other things we can do, besides.”

Sorn dips an arm under you and pulls you flat against the bed, hovering over you. He grins down at you and starts to remove your top. 

“Is this alright?” he asks softly.

You nod, nearly choking on your want for him. Everywhere he uncovers bare skin, he lavishes in kisses until you’re bare from the waist up and the two of you are flesh against flesh. His skin sears yours with warmth. He trails fingers down your sternum and then down to your bellybutton, then lower. 

“You are a delightful little thing,” he says. His voice is velvet, and his warm breath paints down your ribs as he follows the path of his hand. 

You feel the gasp as much as you hear it. It’s a sudden, reckless thing—so quick that neither of you are prepared for it. Sorn’s expression flinches for just a moment and he barely has time to turn his head to the side before a sneeze completely overtakes him—misting your side in the process. “hh-EDSHHH’iuh!” 

You’re stunned. Sorn looks like he might be too, if not for the telltale signs of another impending sneeze close behind the first. He shifts and places a hand on your hip as he sits up a little. You watch as his upper lip curls over bright teeth and his nostrils flare once before he wrenches away from you successfully this time. “hhHH’RRSCCH!” This one is stronger than the last, more voice to it. It shakes him and you by extension on the mattress.

“Bless you,” you say, but he shakes his head. His hand squeezes your hip gently as if to say ‘not yet’. “Hih-ih!”

His fist goes to his mouth before you can stop it, and he squelches the last sneeze into submission. His eyes cinch shut and he bends at the waist, shoulders trembling as the colossal sound is contained to nothing more than a whisper. “hHh-nGXST!” 

He opens his eyes, though somewhat warily. As if he’s not sure the tickle is quite gone yet. He gives a cagey sniffle and blots his knuckle under his nostrils, “Goodness.” Then, he turns to you and finds your gaze positively enraptured. He smiles. 

“I suppose it does work ah-after all!” He rubs at the tip of his nose for a moment and then flutters his eyes, “I do hope you’re ready for more because it seh—seems…” 

Your hand goes to his chest. You feel the swell of his breath deepen, the warm feeling of his skin moving under your fingers. Sorn seems to get the idea because his palm reaches up to cover yours. His fingers wrap around your palm as his breath continues to snag. You catch his eyes just for a moment before they slide back. 

“hHH’RRSCh’euh!” He trembles under your touch with the force of it. He lifts his head just barely, eyebrows canted desperately, and then pitches downwards again, spraying your arm with abandon. “hh’AEEShhh’ah!” 

“Such a tickle,” he says breathily as he recovers. He gives a wet sniffle and smiles at you, but it’s hazy, the look in his eyes already distracted by the mounting itch. But he doesn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he’s enjoying the newness of the sensation. The break from monotony. 

His nostrils flare and he releases his hand to rub his knuckle against his septum once more. 

You feel a little bold for asking, “Are you all right?”

He nods, smiling. He tries to hold your eyes but the tickle steals his concentration once more. 

“Quite!Just—hh…sn’tsCHh’eeze-hhHH! H’RRSHC’hu!” 

You reach your other hand up to stroke through his hair and turn him a little more towards you as he prepares for another. He resists at first out of instinct alone, but adjusts in the moment it takes for the sneeze to have its way with him. As his breath snaps, he ducks his head in the space between you and releases it into your lap. “hh”hRRRASsh’chu!” 

“Bless you,” you say, smoothing back his hair. You crawl into his lap and he welcomes you without hesitation, securing your thighs around his hips even as his head tilts back for two more with barely a breath in between. He ducks them between the two of you but there isn’t much space. His hands clench against your thighs with each outburst. “hh-eHH’SCCHE’uh! h’RRSH’ue!” 

Blearily, he looks up. He’s dazed. Sniffly. His cheeks are indigo and the area around his nostrils is too. You kiss him, because he just looks so stupidly *kissable* and he murmurs a laugh against your mouth. 

“It is quite comforting thatyou find me attractive in such a state,” he sniffs once you pull away. 

“Very attractive,” you remind him.

He smiles, and continues smiling even as his expression flickers again. “Ah, one-hh more perhaps,” he says.  He raises a hand in front of his face and a rather tired sounding sneeze ripples through him. “hH’EDShh!”

“Bless you.”

“I don’t thhhink I’ve ever snhheezed so much in my life-hh!” He leans his forehead onto your shoulder and does away with using his hand to cover, opting to simply hold onto your hips and let the sensation take him. “hh’UEHDSHH’iu!” You stroke his bare back and feel his ribs expand beneath your fingers before tightening twice in quick succession. “hh’NGXT! nG’ssT!” 

He clears his throat after and lifts his head back up, adjusting you on his lap. “Ah, I should have asked, do you prefer if I hold them in or let them out? Often I don’t know which it will be until it happens but… perhaps I could try…try to—”

His eyes roll and he turns his head, giving you a clear view of his twitching profile. “If I could juhhst get through a sehh’ESsch!—sentence!” 

“I don’t mind either way, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself if you hold them in,” you say to try and spare him. 

“Oh, darling, it takes much more than that to hurt me,” he wriggles his nose handsomely and turns back to you with a devilish grin. His eyebrows raise. “And lo! A full sentence! The effects must be wearing off.” He sniffs experimentally and for the first time, his eyes don’t get hazy in the aftermath. 

You feel disappointment sink your heart like a stone. It was bound to wear off eventually. But before you can even lament the course of events, he pats your thigh and shifts you off his lap. 

“Come, where’s the vial?” 

You blink. Surely he doesn’t want to do more of that?

He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he taps the bottom of your chin and winks.

“Oh, we’re far from finished, love. Ready for round two?”

[lalunaluv]

PROLOGUE.

angst???? (Nothing really just vague and confusing lmao),fem!reader, fluff?? (cute and healthy marriage)

pregnancy 😱 idk thats it.

Life has a funny way of taking things right from your grasp, with no guarantees of getting them back. What's better? Forever seeking, fighting for something you cherish? Or moving on and finding a new object of affection that can fill the void in your heart from what was stolen?

...

The creaking of the wooden chair danced with the whispers of the wind through the trees. The woman sitting on it stared into the distance and took a deep breath with a smile faintly placed on her lips.

Her hands sat atop her abdomen, fingers intertwined.

'Peace...' she thought. The view before her was truly beautiful. Her home, in the outskirts of Springvale and near Windrise, over looked the great Windrise tree. The sky was still blue, but as the sun was getting ready to say its goodbyes, it had hints of orange at the horizon. The clouds were pink and looked ever so soft like of you were to fall onto them you have the deepest of sleeps and the sweetest of dreams.

It was all too perfect.

As her chair continued to rock, footsteps approached her.

A hand came behind her and gently placed itself on the side of her face, molding itself against her already heated cheek and she leaned into it's warmth.

The figure moved to lean besides her, crouching to her level.

"Dinner's ready, darling." her husband whispered in her ear.

"We should head in and eat before it darkens."

The hushed and sweet tone of his voice made her giggle, she felt tickle-y.

"No. Let's eat out here, can't you see how beautiful it is?" she complained.

The man smiled gently and pecked the side of her head, while standing upright and heading into the house.

"I suppose I do agree," his voice rang from inside the house. The woman hummed and closed her eyes. She smirked at how incredibly easy her husband caved in. "But even then, I know better than to even try to reason with you, it'd go on for hours. And I dont want you to go through the hassle of getting up." he muttered the last part.

Her brows furrowed and she whipped her head around in an instant to glare at the man who was now behind her, holding a tray of silverware and food assortments.

He sat himself at the chair to the left of hers, placing the food atop of the table between them.

"Im pregnant, not incapacitated." she huffed, removing her hands from her swollen belly and crossing them on her chest.

Her husband chuckled. He raised a spoonful of soup to his lips and blew. When he determined it was the right temperature, he hand fed it to his wife. She stubbornly and jokingly made a face.

"I know that you're very much capable of handling your own needs, but..." he started. His eyes flickered between the metal silverware in his hand and the woman's gorgeous eyes. His hands clenched at the images that began to flash throughout his mind.

She frowned and, as if knowing the millions of thoughts running through his mind, cupped his face to turn him towards her. 

Their gazes connected and his form eased up in an instant.

"We just worked so hard to get here, to be able to settle and start a family. We finally have peace, yet I feel so anxious." his voice shook with vulnerableness.

Her eyes were now glossed over with tears at her soulmates confession and took it as the signal to be the strong one in the situation.

"Don't be. We can't be. We must not sit and expect for something tragic to happen, because, archons forbid, if it does, we would have just been miserable. please... be happy, it kills me when you're anything but." she cried out.

The couple had forgotten all about their dinner plans, the delicious home cooked meals began to cool down and the sun had already set.

The two were now wrapped in each others hold, embracing and comforting each other in bittersweet silence.

“They will never take this from us.

Nobody.

We deserve to be happy, we deserve a family.

We’ll always be with her, no matter what.

(Name) is all that matters now.” The woman whispered.

“(Name)?”

“…” …. “Yes.”

……..

...

...

...

?

!

...

...

"(Name)."

a/n: I know its a 50/50 with the trust the process things but…. please trust the process 😣

I am so sorry for not updating 😭.

[faela404]

☆The Library ☆

kazuha x gn! reader

prompt: - you and kazuha attend the same university, him being a english lit major and you being a person in stem😎 your paths never crossed until that day in the library…

*this is an smau so please do expect a lot of twitter posts and messages to read, there will be proper writing too but, it will mostly be that!!*

warning! this chapter involves mentions of self- neglect, possible eating disorders, insomnia, swearing, implications of inappropriate acts (though it never happened), mentions of anxiety and biblical references (kinda? idk jesus and the bible was mentioned in a lighthearted manner)

masterlist - prev | next

☆it was a mistake ☆

i’ve been sitting here, on my phone, for over 6 hours now. this isn’t good. i’ve forgotten to eat again.

i’ve never been too good at taking care of myself, most the time i’m too engrossed in what im doing to remember that i need to eat, drink or even use the bathroom. however, recently it’s been getting worse. before, i would be able to remember by atleast 7pm but lately, i’ve been having my dinners at 12am, sometimes even later.

i suppose i should be happy i remembered just before midnight this time, but i just don’t see it that way. to me, this is still a failure.

pulling myself out of the warm comfort of my bed below me, i wandered out towards the kitchen. we never tend to have much food in, with us being university students it can be hard to get enough money for such necessities. nonetheless, i managed to find a packet of chicken super noodles (if you don’t know what these are or don’t eat chicken, just read it as your favourite type of instant noodles😌). careful i pulled open the bag and dumped the contents out into my bowl, along with the flavoured powder and some hot water from the kettle, before putting this in the microwave.

after finishing my noodles and placing the bowl in the sink to wash up another day, i once again returned to the comfort of my bed and bright phone screen.

i didn’t get to bed until 3:49am.

i woke up too late, again.

i’m going to be in so much trouble.

i wish my class wasn’t so small, then maybe the professor wouldn’t notice me as i slip through the door and attempt to make my way to my seat.

we’re doing lab work.

she notices me.

“how lovely of you to finally join us, y/n” god did she have to say it so loud. i feel so many eyes on me but, i can’t falter. i try my hardest to ignore them as she continues to speak.

“please stay behind once class is finished y/n, we need to talk” she sounds so smug. i give a curt nod and quickly scurry to my lab partner.

i must look disheveled, i can feel how red my face is, the sweat dripping down my neck- getting caught on the neckline of my shirt. mascara from yesterday is sure to be lining the underneath of my eyes.

my lab partner, lumine, looks worried. however, she seems to ignore my disgusting outward appearance as she begins to explain the experiment to me, giving me time to write down her words and the results.

class wraps up quickly. everyone begins to shuffle out, talking to eachother of their weekend plans, but not me.

i make my way towards professor ningguang. she looks angry but, she doesn’t shout.

“i did warn you there would be consequences if you was absent again, didn’t i?”

i’m so nervous, i’ve never gotten into trouble before.

“yes, professor but, i wasn’t able to get much sleep i’ve haven’t been able to-“

she cuts me off. she’s angrier than she’s letting on.

“i don’t have time for your excuses, y/n. you have been late 5 times in the past 2 weeks, that is completely unacceptable. however, with only 3 weeks left of school before winter break, i can’t give you the standard punishment for a disobedience such as this. instead, you will help out the librarian. ms. lisa has been complaining recently of the mess the library has become. for the next 3 weeks, you will go to the library after school and clean it until there isn’t a spec of dust left, do i make myself clear?”

im not sure if it was the nerves or the fear of her telling me this in such a calm way, but i made no move to object. i simply nodded and left as she dismissed me.

it wasn’t until i got back to my dorm that it truly sank in.

are. you. fucking. kidding. me?!

clean the library? everyday? for 3 weeks?!

i suppose it could be worse, but come on! i have a life, i have homework! i can’t dedicate every evening to cleaning a stupid library!

god, this is going to be miserable.

a/n - ahhhh this was so fun to create! i can’t wait for ya’ll to see the next part! i hope you enjoyed this and will enjoy the rest of the series! take care of yourselves <3

taglist- open! @kazuhaprnt

[ijusthavesomanyblorbos]

SG Starbee?

ok so im pretty sure ur referring to the ship starscream x bumblebee? if there's a character named starbee that idk about im gonna feel silly... but i'm just gonna assume u mean the ship.

as far as characterizations, i really leaned into the whole "child solider" age thing w bumblebee. (as i'm writing this, i am realizing i have basically NEVER TALKED ABOUT STARSCREAM??? so i need to do that immediately someone please remind me cause i will forget.) anyways, for that reason i don't know if i would place him into a ship with anyone.

plus, post war (which is where i think most starbee ships take place), bee is maybe... probably... in prison??? so not in any place where he would meet starscream.

ok so that's my offical statement on the lore. BUT i'm assuming you only sent this ask in because you like the ship and wanna hear about it!! so, hypothetically, if starbee WAS a part of this universe:

starscream is basically the complete opposite of bee.

bee is a manipulative, traumatized, slightly crazed people pleaser that's been exploited since birth for the sake of an apathetic overlord that only cares for him as a tool. he has no friends. he's never had friends- and really, he doesn't even understand why.

meanwhile, starscream is every bit as annoying as he is in canon. he is disobedient and loud and RUDE, and everything bee has ever been punished for. he is very clearly Doing It Wrong, and yet somehow...... he's happy? he's cared for!

it's not fair. it's just not fair.

(what bee doesn't see is this- starscream, despite his many eccentricities, is genuinely caring, and protective of the people around him. he's loyal, and determined, and idealistic to a fault. and those traits, after 4 million years of war, have endeared him to a truly staggering amount of people.)

(bee also doesn't see this: starscream is about to endear himself to one more.)

post war- bee has been allowed to rejoin society, on the condition that he makes as big of a show of it as possible. he is to serve as an example for the autobots on how to reintegrate. (relegated to poster boy once again.)

starscream is assigned to be his "diplomatic partner" in a "unity promotion campaign" between the remaining leaders of the deception and autobot armies. (starscream is assigned to be his babysitter, to make sure he doesn't fly off the rails, and to take care of him if he does.)

now, the expectation here is that hopefully, starscream and bumblebee will manage to put aside their animosity long enough that people settle and reconstruction can begin. eventually, society will become stable enough that "unity promotion" is no longer necessary, and they can go their separate ways.

that is not what happens. starscream, shepard of the lost he is, takes one look at this lonely, angry, hurting soul and goes oh! guess he's mine now :)

over the course of the next few years, starscream teaches bee how to advocate for himself. (how to be more than someone's puppet.)

starscream shows him how to really live. (how to be more than just a soldier.)

starscream helps him understand that there's more to life then fighting, that you can make a place for yourself in the world without clawing your way up and carving it out by force. (how to rest.)

and how can bee not love him after that? in some ways, he's still not... normal. in some ways, he is just as obsessed and devoted to starscream as he was the autobot cause. really, bee has just traded one idol of worship for another.

but for the first time in bee's life, that devotion isn't going to be abused. he's given his obedience to someone who will never, ever use it. and that's what love is, i think.

so, starscream gets a scary ass guard dog (that is really just a lap dog in disguise)

and bumblebee gets what he always, always wanted.

bumblebee gets to be loved.

[itsmarsss]

me reading the chapter actuauly

ogm omfgdsjg; d i cant this is so much blitzo constantly thinking of readers words and them lingering in his mind omg i need them to make up i cannot stand this wht he hell he think that no one will be there to cross out the o but i guarantee reader with her saggy ass and titties (as an old lady) would cross the rings to do so

him hating the weekend sfngdg i canot your depictions of him feel so in character it makes me think you are a writer for the show i cannot believe that this fic is literally changing my life (for the better) ofmfks

SEEING THAT TEY TEXTED CONSISTENLY AND IT MADE HIM NOT HATE WEEKENDS AS MUCHDSG and they made it a habit to spend the weeksends together to hate them less i cannot stnat this omsg my heart

"Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs" this took me out SO BAD lmfao i just stared at my screen like

BUT THEN IMEDDIENYL HAD TO TURN AWAY BC OF THE "PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT FOLDER"

mars when i actch you mars i will fnaf jumpscare you irl this is not it. BABRIE AND HIS MOM WHAT IF I BROKE DOWN??? THEN YOU FOLLOW IT UP WITH "blitz is a 35year old single father who kills people...But in this moment… he just wants his mama." LIKE??? HOW DARE YOU ???? THAT IS SUCH A SORE SPOT BC I FEEL LIKE CRYING EVERYTIME I HEAR AB OLD POPEL MISSING THEIR PARENTS AND IT SLIKE FUGHG crying as i think ab it actually whi cant stand this

then his thought process the whole party omg he literally just wanted an escape to not feel. i cant do this anymore him asking loona to call him dad i crided

then when they leave he pulls out his phone to draw and i jsut sdjfdg i died

NOW FOR THE CONVO WITH STOLAS?? UFHH you probably grabbed it from the many ss of their messages that are shown but still omg his immediate backtracking made me want to pull my hair out bc no thats not how you talk UGHHH

then him asking loona if she would be there when he is old and she is like "ill be there dad" i cant i fucking hate this show why would they do that to me (then he vomits)

literally me after reading blitz portion

FIZZ FIDNING READER OGM he must've felt bad bc he was liek "fuckk that was the chick with blitz and stolas oph shit fuck cock"

reader having no one other than ozzie (in that moment) to go to ufhg (get this woman some friends) and their whole convo what if i

her asking ozzie if he thinks she stupid bc blitz words are echoing in her mind just as much as hers did in his omg i need them to kiss and make up please someone grow communcation skills FUCKING

stolas message with her is so late i cant stand this i think i wills start fcrying again

also her expecting a "fuck you" message from blitz only to get something that made her feel better mars stop this

this is madness when i get you i am shaking you really hard LMFAO

anyways those are my thoughts plz tell my u times this bc idk how long this took

this is the most in-depth comment anyone's ever sent me for my writing and i actually wanna cry

every time you talk about how invested in this you are and how much you love it i feel like crying djmdjmvjfk its just like i cant believe someone would care enough to leave me THIS this is so cool and so fucking nice!!

the thing about how he used to hate weekends because it meant he'd be alone and how he stopped hating them once reader came into his life came from a little blurb thingy i never ended up posting, and i felt it fit right into this chapter!

i liked writing this one a lot because the chaos in blitzos head allowed me to be all over the place and cover a lot of different stuff at once lol it was pretty cool

whenever anyone says something abt my writing being really in character it makes me feel so proud i just get so happy that it feels like ya know im taking these characters people care so much for that they're reading fanfiction about them and writing them from my perception and its so cool to have people feel like im doing them justice!!

the death with the sex toys part was a... choice lmao i thought it'd be funny to use the way blitzo's thoughts are all over the place to convey how easily they go from dumb thoughts to really depressive ones

oh the asking loona to call him dad again was added just to hurt yall i wont make excuses its there to be evil lol

yeah the convo w stolas was mostly taken out of the texts we see in stolas' phone in western energy, but i altered a few things here and there but yeah omfg what always got me with those texts is exactly that. like hes so so desperate to have things be okay he backtracks everything he's trying to say just to not feel that blitz is mad at him

i thought i could also add the layer of blitzo beeing too drunk to reply properly which is another reason for the texts to seem so cold

and ohhh yeah the thing with fizz finding her is that its both a 'fuck what i did hurt this girl' and also that kind of 'idk what to do rn' feeling of interacting with your partner's friends who you're not close enough to to have like a real conversation with lol

yeahhh im glad it was possible to catch that lol the chapter was v blitzo centered so we go through reader's pov of things very wuickly but yeah what blitz said abt her kept echoing in her mind just as much as what she said to him did in his!!

i thought the whole 'expecting a fuck you' thing would be fun to add in considering he does consider sending her a fuck you text in the beginning of the chapter lol

and seriously i think having the doodle there instead of just a description of it made it all so much more motional thank you so so much for it!!! i hope you liked the birthday gift!!!! happy birthday babes!!!!!

[liyuee-qixing]

Helloooo!! I was wondering if anytime soon u we’re gonna write part two for “ I still want to be your favorite boy” or just whenever u can pls ^^

“I still want to be your favorite boy” PT.2

Honestly I forgot someone on earth is reading my fanfic.

Probably going to start writing again soon idk though my time is very limited,can't have a second for myself smh,happy ramadhan for those who's celebrating!

(im thinking of writing for other fandom as bsd and obey me tbh)

CW/TW: jealousy, possible unrequited love

He then quickly flee away from the library,his heart aches the way it never does,his wrath and envy filling ever single inch of his body. What does that guy has that he doesn't!? (Height lmao),he know he's the reason you guys broke up but seeing you spend another of your sweet smile and giggle with everyone else but him.. hurt him in the deepest part of his soul. He took a deep breath of fresh air before letting it out again. You're really the one for him,no matter how popular and how many other girl that has a crush and wanted him,they all will never look at him,treat him or comfort him the way you did. They all didn't have the special place in his heart,unlike you who's his whole heart will always aches in unknown warm feeling for.

That's it, he's going to make this up to you. It was still a club time.. almost home,he make sure to slip a letter of invitation to meet him at you both class after club time into your locker. To be honest,he never could focus whenever subject come. His gaze will make it way to you,and always you,the way your hair shine,the way your lips plump always look so nice to kiss,the way your voice rang around his mind all the time.. he was overwhelmed for the yearnings and envy feeling,he was overwhelmed that he doesn't get any of your attention anymore since the day you broke up..

The time to met up and resolve the problem finally came,to his suprise you're already there before he did. You sat on a table with your gaze turn down and a gleam of smile was painted on your face.

"you're here,i didn't expect you to come." Scara stated,as he look up to your face, walking in to the classroom, you seem to not face his gaze,rather.. you found Yourself avoiding it.

"you said you wanted to talk about something important, perhaps,Childe was still busy with his club for a second that he can't drive me home yet."scaramouche groans as he heard the name childe fall down your mouth,this is the only moment where he would admit he's jealous, he's full of jealousy,envy,and wrath knowing Childe will drive you home today,what? Are you both a thing or something? Did you not know he never treat girl seriously!?

"yeah I did,I wanna know why are you hanging out with Childe."he slams his hand on the table you're sitting on,making an expected loud noise across the quiet classroom. The distance between you both are just a matter of height,you just hum in response

"why not? Sure he might just fool with me,but- but he give me a sense of comfort.. sure if you don't want me to hang with him I can hang with someone else,aether,Xiao or heizhou from class 3-A always willing to hang with me."his envy filled more and more it's like he can explode at any moment now.. he move his face an inch closer,now your gaze and his glaze met,your eyes gleam in something almost like sorrow and sadness,his eyes glean in something one might say is loneliness as wind sweep softly through your hair

"no,won't you take the hint? I'm jealous! Damnit! I can't bear you with other person! I know I'm the reason we broke up but- but.."his words got caught in his tongue.. he can't focus now the way you look at him,he see the way your eyes gleam in sorrow and sadness all because of him.. the beautiful sight of you Infront of him,he may achieve your figure Infront of him,but he will never achieve your heart.

"but what? You've broke me in the way I never feel,I trust you with my full heart,i trust you to not hurt me like my previous relationship went.. I don't understand you.."you spoke, it sound like.. you're in the verge of tears? And he's know he's the cause of it,you cry day and night because of him, your sleeping schedule got bother by him,heck even your score in exam is going down after he broke up With you!

"b-but listen to me [Y/N]! I'm willing to change.. I'm willing to do anything-"he said, groggily but bluntly,very out of character of him.. he's usually very confident.. he stood for who he is but now.. he's just so vulnerable. Perhaps it's the pressure? Or was it the the thought of not owning you again?

"I'm sorry,Kuni, you're just not the one for me"and once again,the wind sweep your hair harsher than last time,you smiled softly at him as you placed your gaze at his almost teary and pleading eyes.. before you stood up from the table

And just like that you leave the room,running toward a tall slither figure with an orange hair.. perhaps,Scara was left in silence.. felt like his heart was just pounding too hard and it's broke just like that. Perhaps this is really the price of his sins..

If I'm sad today everyone has to be sad idc