#it's not your fault it's not your fault why why why why why why did you leave then why did everyone leave please

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

the day you left michael kaiser was the day you died.

you didn’t lose your life, but you surely lost your heart. too many pieces of it had been left fragmented and taken by kaiser for you to be able to fix it ever again. you were only seventeen, and yet it felt like you’ve gone through a lifetime of heartbreak. leaving kaiser was both the most divine gift you have ever given yourself, but also the greatest mistake you have ever committed.

you had met him when you were five. round, rosy cheeks from the frosty winter air were covered in fat tears. you had gotten lost, and you couldn’t find you parents. eventually, you reached the neighborhood park. crouching in the wood chips, with grime and bruises littering his body, was a young michael kaiser of the same age.

he had never spoken to anyone his age, let alone a girl. when you shoved yourself down onto the near frozen swing, still sobbing and sniffling like a baby, kaiser didn’t know what to do. in the end, with his broken grammar and rude words, kaiser wanted to comfort you. he want to try to stop you from crying; after all, it reminded him of himself whenever his father beat and choked him. “what the fuck are you crying about? you look disgusting.”

if kaiser knew gentle words, he would have spoken them. if he knew a lullaby, he would have hummed it. if he knew how to comfort someone, he would have done so. but at age five, he didn’t know anything but swear words. after all, those were the only things that he father ever communicated to him in. at his words, you only sobbed harder. “s-shut up!” kaiser exclaimed. however, you quickly stopped crying once the realization hit you: he wasn’t angry at you.

“i-i’m sorry. i just can’t find my mama and dad.” you whimpered. kaiser nodded. you wiped your tears away, teardrops nearly frozen from the cold. kaiser pointed to a large building next to a collection of houses.

“there’s a shitty station there. a useless piece of shit like you should go there.” kaiser muttered, his voice peculiarly calm for someone who is uttering the nastiest of words. you only blinked a few times in confusion at his vulgarity before grinning brightly, your tears having all been wiped away, and thanked him.

at that moment, you both fell in love with the other. it was only supposed to be a stupid childhood crush that would last a month or two; it wasn’t supposed to be serious. it was just supposed to be cute and temporary.

if only that was the case.

after that day, you continued to visit kaiser every day at the park with a bag of bread from the neighborhood bakery. bread made from garlic salt and sugar and buttery, still warm and soft. for years, you never dared to ask why kaiser was always having fresh new wounds painted on his every day. only years later, at thirteen, did he finally tell you about his family life. you wanted to tell the police, but kaiser swore that he would rather die than end up as an orphan.

when he was fifteen, he got arrested. you knew that it wasn’t him; it wasn’t his fault. he would never steal from a jewelry store. you knew he stole, but he didn’t care about superficial riches like jewels and gold. you waited outside of the police department for two whole days without food and sleep, waiting for kaiser to have his name cleared. finally, some soccer scouter managed to bail him out.

that was the day you started dating kaiser.

he began playing for bastard münchen only a week after his release. you stood by his side, always supporting him, and being next to him, always loving him, always making sure that he knew you love him. at first, kaiser was almost the same, although much more rude to his new teammates. but he still remained as soft as he could with you, never raising his voice or a hand with you.

he began to change at sixteen.

he was cold; distant, even. he still loved you, you knew that for a fact. but soccer was always the only thing on his mind. you knew that he was justified; after all, soccer brought him self-satisfaction and love. he felt human if he played soccer, and you could understand why he was so obsessed with soccer. but not to the point where it was detrimental to his health.

kaiser choked himself.

you always knew that he hurt himself, but you always stopped him the moment you caught him, always begging for him to stop, and that he mustn’t do something like that. you begged for him to take therapy sessions, go to a psychiatrist, something, anything. kaiser only shrugged off your concerns and told you that you worried too much. but the moment you caught kaiser’s fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, unable to breathe and saliva escaping from his lips, you knew that he’s gone too far.

you had come up to him, begged him to stop. pulled his fingers away from his throat by force. after an hour of coaxing and coddling, he finally stopped for a week before continuing again. you knew that it wasn’t your problem to deal with, but you still felt so guilty about it.

kaiser told you that he loved you that night.

you dealt with him for another year. he was still so superficially obsessed with soccer; obsessed with crushing and destroying his opponents like the opposing teams on a chessboard. but you couldn’t bear it, he was nothing short of cruel to ness, and he was just like a monster when he was playing against another team. he smiled when someone on the opposing team started crying. he never treated you like that, but you didn’t want to take any chances. you knew that he would treat you just like that soon enough.

that day, you broke it off with him.

you knew that it would hurt you both, you knew that this decision would haunt your days forever. but you couldn’t deal with this anymore. you couldn’t continue to see the boy you loved spiral into insanity, with all of your efforts and begs going to waste. you were too horrified to tell him in person, so you only left a note.

over half of your once shared apartment’s furniture was destroyed that night after kaiser read the note.

he truly went insane. the one person who he ever truly loved, the one person who ever loved him, the only person who comforted him through his shitty childhood, gone and only leaving him a note. he went insane trying to find you; he texted you millions of times, called you and facetimed you thousands of times, but you never responded.

and now, at age twenty, kaiser still never moved on from you.

during matches, his eyes always scan the stands, thinking that maybe you’d come. maybe you got bored, or maybe you wanted to mock him, maybe you wanted him back, or maybe you just wanted to beat the crap out of him after drinking a bit too much. whatever the reason, kaiser just wants to see you happy. he wants to see you laughing. he doesn’t care if you don’t take him back; as long as you’re safe and happy and healthy, then he’ll be fine.

you weren’t fine. college was killing you, and you were still a virgin who never went out to parties. you still silently watched over kaiser; searching up his name often, reading news articles about him, and watching clips and videos of him on youtube. seeing him healthy made you happy, even if he wasn’t constantly in the best emotional state, especially in that strange blue lock facility that he went to when he was nineteen.

january twenty-sixth.

not only was bastard münchen playing against fc barcha today, but it also marked the fifteenth anniversary of when you and kaiser first met when you were both only five. today was the day where you decided that for the first time in three years, you would go see kaiser play. just as a physical to see if he was okay, and for no other reason. no, this because you missed him. no, this wasn’t because you were still in love with him and just wanted to see him again and wanted to know if he still loved you. surely, he wouldn’t even see you. nope, nope, not at all.

at least, that was what you hoped.

you sat in your plastic blue seat of the stadium, waiting to see kaiser again. you weren’t used to this; you were always in vip seats at his game, and this was the first time you weren’t. oh well, it was still watching the same game at the end of the day. plus, vip seating would only make it easier for kaiser to see you.

as kaiser stepped out and onto the plastic green grass, his eyes scanned the crowd once again. this would be the last time he will ever do this; if you’re not even going to be here today, then he’s sure that you’ll truly never attend any of his games. he knows you best and you know him best, after all.

left to middle. no sign of a goddess like beauty anywhere, so you weren’t there. middle section. no sign of an angel anywhere either, so you weren’t there. finally, there was only the right left. please, kaiser begged that you would be there. even if you were on your phone the entire match, kaiser couldn’t care less.

one by one, his eyes drifted through the crowd as he nearly reached the end. his eyes slowly dimmed; were you really not there? was he really never going to see the love of his life again? but then he reached the end, and his eyes widened, glimmering underneath the sunlight. and despite the fact that it was a harsh winter, the warmth and love in his eyes could melt all of the ice and snow outside.

it was you.

your eyes locked for a moment, and in that moment, there was no one else. for a moment, soccer didn’t even matter. it was just you and him. he mouthed your name, your eyes widening a fraction, before you turned red and looked away. kaiser almost laughed out loud before walking away to the center of the stadium, feeling as if he could score fifty goals. you really came; he really got to see you again.

during the match, every damn time kaiser scored a goal, he always made some sort of gesture to you, whether it’d be blowing a kiss to you or waving to you or just staring intently at you, the media went crazy over it—because it was just so obvious that those gestures were meant for you.

after the match, you walked through the stadium as quickly as you could, wanting to leave and not wanting to get bombarded by the media. you completed your task; you came to see if kaiser was okay. and he clearly was perfectly fine, so you had nothing to worry about.

that was until you felt the calloused grasp of a hand on yours.

it’s been three years, but you could recognize that feeling anywhere. the exact same way of lacing your fingers together, the exact same warmth and same feeling. the exact same hand.

mihya’s hand.

you turned around in a flash, tears brimming at your eyes unknowingly. why were you crying? you weren’t supposed to get emotional over seeing him again. not until you saw the tears stinging mihya’s eyes, tears glossing over his eyes like the most expensive and yet beautiful porcelain china.

your mihya.

“mihya…?” you mumbled, your voice the hum of a lullaby. you expected yells if this were to happen, you expected interrogations and questions and threats, you expected blackmail, you even expected to get hit by him.

but none of that came.

only the feeling of another hand tilting your chin up before cerulean eyes glimpsed into yours, looking at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful thing in the world.

“you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.”

a/n: YES A HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON REFERENCE EEEEEE

[mead-iocre]

Lover Girl | Leah Williamson x Spolied!Reader

synopsis: you might be spending valentines day alone

warnings: a veryyyyy spoiled girl <///3

word count: 3.5k

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

Picking at your nails, perfectly filed into almond-shaped, and painted in your favourite sheer blush pink colour, you frown. You hate the sight of your cuticles growing in. Looks like you are due for an appointment soon. You mentally remind yourself to give your favourite salon a call. 

Your girlfriend sighs over the phone. The screen blurs for a moment before you hear shuffling, sheets rustling. She was probably making herself comfortable in bed. The sight annoys you. Your girlfriend should be getting ready for bed beside you, in your shared bed, slipping into sheets made for two. 

Soon her face pops back up on the screen. Her back was propped up against the headboard, and she’s turned on the lamp beside the bed letting you see her face a little clearer. 

The sight also annoys you. 

Her stupid face should be right beside you. Not in some hotel room, not a whole plane ride away. 

“Quit frowning, baby” Leah breaks the brief silence. You don’t say anything, the frown on your face deepening, your eyebrows furrowing. “You’ll get wrinkles”

You relax your face immediately. 

“But you promised, Lee” You whine, thumping at the empty space on the bed beside you. “You said we’ll be spending Valentines Day together”

“I know, princess” She chides, her voice gentle. “but it’s a bit mental out here— almost all the flights at the airport are delayed”

You don’t relent. “So rent a private charter then” 

Your girlfriend chuckles, low and throaty, even though you don’t find anything funny right now. She rubs a hand over her face. “Baby, private jets have to follow the no-fly rules too”

You roll your eyes, audibly huffing at the absurdity of the situation. Did Mother Nature seriously expect you— YOU— the epitome of a lover girl, to spend Valentines day alone?!

Valentines Day was one of your favourite holidays. Top 3, actually. For a a girl whose heart beats in soft, rhythmic thumps; your world is bathed soft candlelights, scattered rose petals, and heart-shaped everything— you were the embodiment of romance. You believe in love like others believe in the stars.

And, oh, the way you give love—it’s like generosity flows from an endless river of affection. You love hosting intimate dinners with Leah’s teammates, and cosy brunches with close friends, complete with your Ginori 1735 Oriente Italiano pink porcelain tableware imported from Italy. You love writing handwritten notes, sealed with a pearly pink wax and kissed with a custom wax seal stamp with your signature. 

When you love, you love deeply. 

And that’s why it pains Leah to not be with you on one of your favourite days of the year. 

“I’m sorry, baby” Your girlfriend croons over the phone, the shitty signal of the hotel room only making the distance between you more obvious. “I’ll make it up to you next year, okay?”

She continues, “We’ll take a week-long trip so we can spend Valentines Day on a beach somewhere…."

You hum in response, nodding—albeit reluctantly. You heard what she was saying but you were still sad. It wasn’t your girlfriend’s fault that the weather was so bad that it made for unfavourable flying conditions. It wasn’t your girlfriend’s fault that she was currently stuck in a hotel room, instead of at home with you.

But that didn’t mean you had to like it. 

She tries to lighten the mood. “You still didn’t tell me how your day went. Did you—“

You cut her off. “Actually, Lee, I’m a bit tired. I think I might head to bed”

Now it was her turn to frown, her brow furrowing as she absorbed your dismissal. The screen flickered slightly, casting a soft glow on her face, but her expression was anything but relaxed. Her lips tightened, eyes narrowed in thought. Her fingers absently ran through her hair, her posture stiff. She bit her lip, clearly processing, before she cleared her throat. 

“Oh. okay, baby” She looked like she wanted to say something else, her mouth opening once before she closes it abruptly. “Yeah, yeah I’m sure you must be tired”

You rarely ended your FaceTime calls together early. If anything, you could probably count the number of times you had ended your calls early before the usual, drawn-out goodbyes on one hand. Tonight was getting added to that tally. The usual warmth in the conversation had faded, replaced by a quiet tension. You found yourself glancing at the clock, then back at her face on the screen, unsure of how to fill the growing silence.

You hated doing this to her, so you gave her this one thing. With a tight-lipped smile that barely reaches your eyes, you mumble a quiet “Night. I love you”

She mirrors your expression, although you can see the regret swimming in her eyes. Her gaze drops briefly, as if she’s trying to avoid the weight of what’s unsaid. “Goodnight. I love you. Call me tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“We’ll see. Maybe the storm will ruin that too”

Her mouth drops open at your unexpected sass. You were rarely mouthy, always so pliant and have to go along with the flow of things. “Oi, enough with the storm—“ 

End call. 

Throwing your phone to the empty space beside you, you huff audibly as you turn to fluff your 25 momme mulberry silk pillow. 

Ping. 

Ping. 

Ping. 

You ignore your phone, the glaring, physical reminder that your girlfriend is thousands of miles away. Burying your head under one of your pillows, you will yourself to sleep. Maybe it would hurt less if you stopped thinking about how you will be spending tomorrow lover-less and alone. 

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

You awoke slowly, the rays of morning sun filtering through the sheer curtains. Shifting beneath the covers, your body was still wrapped in warmth, but a strange heaviness settled on your chest. Blinking your eyes open, you let them adjust to the morning light. 

Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you hope for a message, a call, something—a sweet "Happy Valentine’s" from her. 

But the screen is dark. 

Your heart sinks just a little, and you slide it closer, hoping it will come to life, but it doesn’t.

She was probably still asleep. London was five hours ahead anyway. 

The bed beside you is empty, untouched. The space where she should be feels painfully cold. You sit up slowly, the soft sheets slipping away from your body as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. Your feet touch the cool marble floor until you slip your feet into your favourite shearling slippers. Standing, you moving across the room with graceful steps, but slightly sluggish in movement. The softness of your pale pink lace nightgown, vintage Dior piece, swirl around your legs as you walk. There was no rush, no excitement. 

You walk toward the window, parting the curtains with delicate fingers, letting the morning light fill the room. You glance out at the London streets below, alive with the usual bustle. The city may be awake, but you feel like you’re in another world entirely—one that’s quieter, lonelier.

Your gaze drifts to the gifts on the coffee table— her favourite Lindt chocolates, a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers, a new watch gift wrapped in the familiar red and gold signature packaging, and a handwritten card filled with love. None of it feels as special without her. The love you’d hoped would fill the day feels miles away, even though she’s only a flight away.

You turn away from the window, and sit back on the bed. The silk sheets cool against your skin as you sink into them. You had spent weeks preparing for today—perfectly arranging the flowers that filled the flat with the soft scent of roses, every corner was filled with heart-shaped balloons and seasonal candles made special for the occasion. You had even bought a new dress for the holiday: a velvet dress in the deepest shade of rose, paired with diamond earrings that costed a pretty penny. 

Leah’s pennies, of course.

Your mind wandered back to the night when you had last seen her off at the private airport lounge, waving goodbye as your girlfriend boarded the plane. "I’ll be back soon, baby," she'd promised, her voice soft and sincere. 

Clearly that was not the case, you thought bitterly as you moved to start your day. 

You went through the motions of the day, trying to fill the empty spaces with something—anything—that will take your mind off the feeling that lingers. Luckily, you were able book a last minute slot with your personal pilates instructor, so you slip into your workout clothes, a soft pink set that hugs your body. The fabric feels cool against your skin as you pull your hair into a neat ponytail, eyes still tired from a restless night. You’ve done this a thousand times before, but today it feels different. It’s like you’re moving through a haze, your body here but your mind somewhere else. 

The Pilates studio is bright, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflecting the sleek décor. The instructor’s voice, calm and steady, fills the room as she guides everyone into position, but it doesn’t quite reach you. Your movements are precise, but they’re mechanical, lacking the usual grace. You can’t focus, can’t clear your mind the way you usually do. 

Instead, you think of her. 

You push through the hour, sweating through each movement, but it’s more about distracting yourself than anything else. The deep stretches and controlled movements don’t offer the release they usually do, and by the time the session ends, you’re not sure if you’ve achieved anything. You gather your things—your expensive water bottle, the soft towel—and head out, the cool air hitting your skin as you walk back to your car.

The day drags on, the clock ticking slowly. You scroll through your phone, checking it periodically in hopes of some update from Leah, but the hours pass with no word. You think about calling her, about filling the silence with her voice, but you resist. You don’t want to seem needy, don’t want to burden her with how much you’re missing her today.

At home, you head straight for the bathroom. The day has already stretched on too long, and the silence is starting to feel suffocating. You run the water, the steam filling the air. The hot water cascade over you. It feels nice, but it doesn’t wash away the ache in your chest. When you step out, you slide into the plush bathrobe that’s always waiting for you—lavender-scented and soft as a cloud.

You settle in front of your vanity and slip into your facial routine. First, the cleansing balm, then a serum, and a moisturiser after. The jade roller comes next, the cool stone soothing your tired face as you massage it in gentle upward strokes. The mask you apply next is made with organic, rare ingredients that promise to lift and brighten.You need some of that desperately right now. Allowing it to sit on your face for the recommended fifteen minutes, you flip through a copy of Vogue to pass the time, but the words blur in front of you. 

Reaching for your phone again, you stare at it as if willing it to light up, but there’s still nothing.

When you wash the mask off, your skin feels fresher but your mood remains unchanged. You slip into a soft cashmere robe next, pale pink and muted. You stand in front of your closet, looking at the endless rows of pieces, each one precisely selected to be part of your personal collection.

Then, your eyes catch it: the dress.

The one you had received weeks ago, the one you’d been imagining yourself in all day. A stunning Valentino piece in a deep, rich red. The kind of red that demands attention. The silk catches the light in a way that makes it shimmer like liquid.

It’s a dress made for a night to remember, and for the person wearing it to be remembered.

But today, it feels out of place. Today, it feels like a contradiction. You stand there, staring at it for a long moment, your fingers hovering just inches from the fabric. 

Pierpaolo Piccioli. Valentino SS25. A one-of-a-kind piece. 

You wonder if it’s just a waste to just leave it on a hanger. There’s no dinner reservation with your love tonight, no laughter shared over wine, no promises whispered under the dim glow of candlelight. It feels absurd to even consider wearing something so special when the one person who deserves to see you in this dress is not here. 

However, you had paid a lot for this dress, to have it tailored for you and the occasion, and it feels like a travesty to not put it on at least.

You can’t help but reach for the dress. 

Forget it. You put it on.

Your fingers trail over the lace again as you slip it on, the silk gliding against your skin. When you saw the model strut the runway in it, immediately you turned and whispered to your personal show consultant to schedule a meeting with the designer. It was a couture piece tailored to your measurements, every single curve, ensuring a perfect fit.

Pausing, you take a long look at yourself—and the dress—and think, Why waste such a pretty dress?

The dress clings to your body like it was meant for another life, another version of today—a version where she’s by your side, laughing, holding you close, making everything feel right. Instead, the silk and lace feel like an echo of something that could have been. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, twisting, watching how the fabric flows. You run your hands over, smoothing the fabric, appreciating the way it glimmers and glows in the mirror.

With an affirmative nod at yourself, you decide to leave it on for the rest of the day. Maybe it’ll help you feel better, maybe it won’t. But you owe it to the dress—and to yourself—not to let the day slip by without at least trying to make the best of it. 

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

The clock ticks, loud and constant, each second passing like the breeze in the wind. The city continues to hum with life—couples holding hands, flowers being delivered, the world celebrating love. But here you are, dressed up and alone, gazing at the lone bouquet of flowers sitting on your vanity table.

The silence in the room is almost too loud.

And then, you hear it.

A soft sound. A familiar sound. A key turning in the door.

Dashing out of the closet, you run like you never ran before. You can’t breathe. Impossible.

You fly down the stairs, barely able to stop yourself as you skid to a halt by the hallway, the door swinging open just in time.

You step toward the door, your pulse racing. Your fingers tremble as you grip the back of the sofa next to you, barely able to believe what you’re seeing. 

She’s standing there, suitcase in hand, eyes wide with disbelief—and then, when she sees you, her expression softens. 

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Leah's home. She’s here.

“I thought I’d missed it,” she says softly, stepping inside, her voice full of apology, but also relief. “I... I didn’t think I’d be back in time.”

Your eyes fill with sudden tears, the emotions that have been swirling inside you all day finally spilling over. “You’re here,” you whisper, voice trembling. You take a step closer to her, the floor cold against your bare feet but you did not care.  

Leah smiles, her eyes softening as she sets her suitcase down and reaches for you. The moment her arms wrap around you, pulling you close, you felt like you could breathe again. Her warmth envelopes you, and you close your eyes, breathing in the scent of fresh pears and mimosas. You cling to her, feeling the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.

“I couldn’t let my girl celebrate Valentine’s Day alone,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear. She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like nothing could have kept her from being here with you.

You draw in a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest, your fingers trembling as you reach to touch her, as if to confirm that this moment is real, that she’s really here. You look up into her eyes, still in disbelief that your girl was home.

She brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, her fingers soft against your skin, and with a smile so radiant, so genuine, it lights up her whole face. She whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

And in that moment, you realise that this—the two of you, together—is what makes this day perfect. The dress, the plans, the expectations—they all fade into the background. All that matters is that she’s here, holding you. 

“You made it…”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of her gaze making your heart race.

“Of course I did,” she says, voice thick with emotion. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

Her words, so simple, but so full of meaning, fill the spaces inside you. You reach up, brushing your fingers gently across her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin under your touch. She’s here, in your arms, and nothing else matters anymore.

You reach up on your tiptoes to kiss her, slowly at first, tentatively, as if testing the waters. The kiss deepens, slow and intimate. Her hands slide to your waist, pulling you even closer, her body pressing against yours as if she’s afraid you’ll slip away. Your fingers slide through her hair, the feel of it familiar, grounding, as you kiss her deeper.

You pull back slightly, just enough to breathe, but your forehead rests against hers. Her breath is warm against your skin, and for the first time today, you feel the peace you’ve been longing for. 

She smiles softly, brushing her thumb across your bottom lip. “You look incredible,” she says, her voice low and husky.

You smile, your fingers still tangled in her hair, your heart swelling with a love so deep, it fills every part of you. “Y’like it?”

“You know I do, baby” She smiles, her hands gently cupping your face as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering for just a moment. And in that quiet, tender moment, you realise: this is what you’ve been waiting for. Not the day, or the dress, but her. 

Leah leans back just enough to study your face, her eyes tracing every line as if committing it all to memory, as if she’s been waiting for this reunion just as much as you have.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Leah murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers brush over the side of your face, so gentle, so tender, like you were the most precious gold to her.

“I’ve missed you too,” you reply, your voice trembling just slightly. You can’t remember the last time you felt so full of love. You don't know why you ever doubted that your girlfriend would ever leave you alone on Valentine's Day. “I didn’t think I’d make it through today without you.”

Leah chuckles softly, the sound like music to your ears. “Well, I couldn’t let you,” she teases, her hands running down your arms, sending a thrill through your body. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Her lips curl into a smile, and you can’t help but return it. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the warmth of her skin, the familiar scent that has always made you feel like you’re home.

You pull back slightly, enough to look her in the eyes. There’s something raw in her gaze, something that mirrors your own feelings.

“You’re all I’ve wanted today. All I needed was you,” you whisper, your words thick with emotion.

Your girlfriend tilts her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Whatever you want, baby. Y'know that.”

Her words settle into your heart, and in that instant, you realize how right she is. It’s not the grand gestures, the fancy plans, or the expectations of the day that make it special. It’s this—her—standing in front of you, her love wrapping around you like a blanket, making everything else fade into the background.

You kiss her again, but this time it’s different. It’s desperate, it’s hungry, and it’s everything that’s been building between you for the past week. Her lips are warm against yours, her touch possessive and tender all at once.

Leah pulls back just slightly, her forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air.

“I love you,” she whispers, her voice thick with raw emotion.

Your chest tightens at the words, but you smile through the tears that threaten to spill once more. “I love you, too.”

In that moment, all the pain, the distance, and the time apart melt away. It’s just the two of you now, and that’s enough.

She smiles softly, her hand resting against your cheek as she gazes into your eyes, her expression more tender than you ever thought possible. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

happy (late) valentines day, my lovers (you). tell me if you hate it and I'll rewrite it

・❥���- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[elamarth-calmagol]

There are a few reasons why you might not know about this.

First, there's a good chance you were taught it, but weren't at school/paying attention. This wasn't necessarily your fault, but it does seem to be true for most "why didn't I learn this in school" topics.

Second, there's a good chance that if you're in college or older, the curriculum has changed. The entire seventh grade social studies curriculum changed in my state a few years after I went through it, from geography to civics.

Third, classes have to get there. I remember when we were reviewing for the test in advanced placement American History, and the teacher was bragging that everyone else he knew was still stuck in the beginning of the 20th century. (And yes, we did learn about the race riots in that class.) Regular eleventh grade classes are supposed to start at the Civil War, not the beginning of colonization, but for a teacher with a class full of 16-year-olds who read at a third grade level and will do anything to get out of actually doing work, it can still be a challenge to cover everything. Teachers usually have to choose between skimming through the book, or not finishing it, and the Tulsa Race Riots can disappear either way.

Fourth, maybe your teachers were bad. Or your school board was too conservative. (In my liberal school district, world history had to teach Christianity before Islam even though it didn't make sense thematically, for political reasons.) But it's not always a conspiracy.

Bonus: I read this recently, and it's really good, for a kids' book. Maybe give it to any kids you know, or read it, if you like middle grade fiction. https://www.amazon.com/Lena-Burning-Greenwood-Massacre-Survival/dp/1666329444

[amoressb]

───── STEALING KISSES 김선우 Y. JW

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ he just cant get enough of your strawberry chapstick ｡｡ idol!jungwon x reader .

FLUFF & wc. 900 + ; kissing, skinship, petnames ｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

yang jungwon sat in front of his desk, the soft glow of his ring light perfectly highlighting his features. his fans had been eagerly awaiting this live broadcast and as always, jungwon delivered—laughing, answering questions, and teasing snippets of upcoming music.

“let’s see…’what’s your favorite thing about performing?’ hmm, probably the energy from you guys,” he said with a smile, leaning closer to the camera. “nothing beats hearing you sing along.”

the chat was flooded with love for his answer, but just as he was about to tease another song, the door to his room opened softly.

he glanced up mid-sentence and his words faltered. standing in the doorway was you, his girlfriend, dressed in his oversized hoodie that nearly swallowed you whole. your hair was slightly messy, your face fresh and soft, and your lips curved into a shy smile as your eyes met.

jungwon smiled back, his gaze softening. “uh, hold on a second, guys,” he said to the live audience, waving a hand at the camera before standing up.

the chat erupted in confusion :

“who’s there??”

“what’s happening?”

“was that his manager?”

jungwon didn’t respond, already walking away from the desk. he approached you with a small, fond smile. “hey,” he said softly. “didn’t think you’d wake up so soon.”

“i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said, your voice just above a whisper, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of his hoodie. “i was just heading to the kitchen…”

“you’re not interrupting baby,” he assured you, pulling you gently into his arms. his lips found yours in a quick, light kiss, a reflex more than anything, but the moment he pulled back, he hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly.

“wait, what is that?” he asked, leaning closer. “what’s what?” you asked, confused.

“that taste…” he kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the soft, fruity flavor lingering on your lips. “strawberry? is that your chapstick?” you giggled, your cheeks flushing. “yeah, it is…why?”

“i like it,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you once more.

“you’re live, wonnie,” you reminded him between kisses, laughing softly as you gently pushed at his chest. “i know, but…” he pouted, his voice dipping into a playful whine. “you taste so good.”

“stop,” you teased, though your laughter only encouraged him. “seriously, go back to your fans before they riot.”

“i don’t want to,” he admitted with a grin, holding you closer. “i’d rather stay here with you.”

you cupped his face in your hands, pressing one last kiss to his lips before stepping back. “go,” you said firmly, though your tone was light. “you’re going to get in trouble if you keep disappearing.”

he sighed dramatically, leaning in for one last kiss before heading back to his desk. “okay okay, but i’m coming back later.”

when he sat down, the chat was in chaos:

“WHERE DID YOU GO??”

“you look too happy right now 👀”

“HE’S BLUSHING! WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

he laughed, scratching the back of his neck, “alright, alright,” he admitted. “someone special is here, and…i got a little distracted, but it’s her fault tho…her chapsticks amazing.”

the chat erupted with laughter, teasing, and endless questions but jungwon just smiled, brushing it off. “let’s move on, okay?”

minutes passed but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. the way you tasted, the soft giggle that echoed in his ears, it was driving him insane.

“actually, hold on one more second,” he said abruptly, dashing out of frame again.

this time, you were in the living room, scrolling through your phone. when you saw him approach, you raised an eyebrow. “wonn,” you said pointedly, though you couldn’t hide your amused smile. “you’re live.”

“i know,” he replied, pulling you into his arms once more. “but i couldn’t stay away.”

“you’re impossible,” you said, laughing as he kissed you again. “and you’re delicious,” he countered with a grin.

“go back before your fans start a petition to find out what’s going on,” you teased, poking his chest. “they already know,” he admitted with a chuckle. “well kind of…i told them it’s your chapstick’s fault.” you rolled your eyes but kissed him again, soft and lingering. “go jungwon. now.”

“fineeee,” he sighed dramatically, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before heading back to his desk.

after another hour, he finishes the live and says goodbye to his fans, jungwon closed his laptop and turned off the ring light. as he got up, he found you still sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone. he walked over and flopped down beside you, resting his head on your lap.

“how’d it go?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. “pretty sure i just gave the fans their biggest mystery of the year,” he joked, looking up at you with a grin.

you laughed softly, “you’re terrible at hiding things, you know.”

“maybe,” he said, sitting up slightly. “but i don’t think i want to hide you anymore.” your breath caught at his words, your cheeks flushing. “wait…you mean that?”

jungwon nodded, his expression sincere. “i’m not saying we need to make it public right now, but…i don’t want to pretend you’re not the best part of my day.” your heart melted at his words and you leaned in, kissing him softly. “you’re the best part of my day, too.”

he smiled against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. “good. now, do we have any more of that chapstick? i think i’m actually addicted.”

you laughed, playfully smacking his arm. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculously in love with youuu,” he countered, pulling you in for another kiss.

this time, there were no interruptions, no excuses, just the two of you, stealing kisses in the quiet comfort of your shared apartment.

⋆｡°✩ @miukidoll @liwinly @sugarikiz @hyukabean

[lalunanymph]

💭 thinking about . . . . ex-husband caleb

tw. colonel caleb x fem!reader, suggestive content, smut, mentions of angst, divorce, cross-posted from x, yandere-ish caleb, ex-husband, whiny caleb, begging, pathetic caleb, second chances, 2k+ words

The day you married Caleb was the happiest day of your life. 

You still remember the excitement in the air, the hush wedding reception filling up with closest friends. Those in attendance swore to keep this a secret—Caleb’s clandestine occupation as Colonel of the Farspace Fleet deterring from any illusions to a safe, stable job, not when he had enemies all around.

Gideon stood as his best man while Tara was your bridesmaid and makeup artist. 

A handful of Hunter colleagues, Jenna, and Professor Lucius who surprisingly sniffled quietly into his silk handkerchief, watched the two of you say your vows and promise before the law and men alike that you would always protect and cherish one another, for better or for worse. 

But, that was a year ago. 

While vows don’t change, people do. 

Sad story short, not even a year into your marriage, Caleb and you got into a huge, marriage-altering argument which resulted in six days of no-contact. You can say the divorce was mostly your fault.

Your husband of 342 days reluctantly agreed and while you two remained childless, he still insisted on paying the necessary support as per the pre-nup he insisted you get. 

The nascent, sharp ring of the doorbell distracts you from the rest of your straying thoughts, and you look up from the bouquet of flowers you’re halfway arranging. For a moment, your idle mind blanks and your heart trembles in your chest. 

It must be him… 

Your throat tightens at the prospect of seeing your ex-husband again. 

While the two of you didn’t have the most pleasant relationship, you had mostly agreed to keep things civil. That is, until you open the door to find Caleb beaten up and bloody with your ring in a velvet box. 

“... what the fu—?” 

You don’t get to finish your sentence, not when he ushers you inside with a scowl. Towering over you with his 6’2 frame, you remind yourself not to be thrown off by his boyish charms and playfully bright violet eyes, even as a trickle of blood runs down his chin. 

“Sorry, princess. Got caught in a tussle. But, I’m here with your ring as you requested.”

His voice is light, deceptively casual. 

You gape at him. “... care to explain to me why you're bleeding out all over my foyer?” 

In answer, he pats your head and breezes past you. “You mean the foyer of this house I pay with my own money so I can put a roof over my dear old ex-wife’s head?” He arches a brow. “I say I can bleed on these floors all I want. But, you—”

Your ex-husband scrutinizes you from head-to-toe. “—don’t look too hot. Not sleeping well?” 

You bristle at his glib comment. “Oh, shut up, you big dummy.” 

The bravado doesn’t last long. Your eyes betray you, and your concern flares at the sight of more sanguine red seeping into the carpet. Without a hint of warning, you grasp the lapels of his thick, embellished jacket, and tug it down his shoulders. He relents, your sudden show of concern drawing a pensive silence across those deep set eyes; a furrow in his brow.

You gingerly lead him to the couch, and tell him to stay there, as you make a beeline for the first aid kit up in your kitchen cabinet. Setting to work, you clean up his wounds, and bandage them, focusing on the gash of his arm. 

“You’re practically untouchable,” you shake your head. “How did you get this sloppy?” 

Caleb grunts, wincing when you tighten the makeshift tourniquet around his injury. “They… got me when I had my back turned.” You know better than to press him for details—Caleb is adamant on not drawing you deeper into his bullshit, any more than necessary. You do the best you can; despite not being married to him, Caleb was—is—still your friend first, and you would rather take care of him than risk him not seeking out proper medical attention for himself. 

As you bring his heavy-duty military jacket into the quaint laundry room, you scrub it, lost in your thoughts, the egg-shell white walls pressing down on you. With a stealthiness that belies his broad frame, Caleb slips right behind you, and you feel the heat of his broad chest seeping into the thin, old shirt you wore.

“Is this mine?”

He runs his fingers over the frayed hem, and you bristle.

“... no.”

As much as your stubbornness infuriates him, the dark-haired man can also admit how it amuses him to no end. “Sure?” He raises one brow. “Says ‘DAA’ right here—”

“Fine. You want me to take it off and give it back?” you seethe. He laughs, gives you a faint smile that doesn’t exactly touch his eyes.

“Nope,” he sighs. “Can’t risk you getting cold. I’m just messin’ with you.” 

Silence blankets the both of you in reassuring waves. There’s nothing awkward about being in the same room with Caleb, and you don’t think twice when he inches closer—close enough for his chin to hook over your shoulder. Warm palms tentatively slide down your sides, and you stiffen, but don’t push him away.

“I…” his voice breaks, and all his bravado brought on by the adrenaline from before starts to dissipate. “I missed… you.” He finishes lamely, and you resist the urge to snort. Your tender heart bleeds behind a wall of brambles and you put on a front. 

“What? Already getting sad I’m mooching off your Fleet paycheck?” 

He hears the forced derision in your tone and doesn’t comment on it. If you’re stubborn, Caleb is downright bull-headed. Never one to take ‘no’ for an answer, he spins you around, soapy water sloshing down the front of your shirt as he tilts your chin up to look at him. 

Purple eyes that remind you of bruises bore right into yours, and your heart catches in your throat. 

“You're going to be the death of me someday ” he murmurs huskily. 

“Caleb—”

“Come back to me,” he murmurs, wearing his entire heart on his sleeve; begging you to take him back with those sad, puppy-dog eyes.

“You know I can't be your wife again.”

That irrational part of him which loses control every time he's around you rears its ugly head. 

“Why not?” he bites out, almost a whine. 

He leans in closer, the scent of blood and his skin grazing your nostrils. 

Despite the complications that might arise, you're freefalling right into the gravity of his plush lips, feeling the chapped softness pressing to your mouth. Caleb groans, the sound soft and frayed with yearning, his kiss full of pain and love. He caresses your cheek softly, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your jaw. 

“Why,” he whispers hoarsely. “Why are you so stubborn? Why do you always insist on hurting me?”

“I don't mean it,” you whisper. “I just… I don't want to lose you again.”

He glides the tip of his nose down your jawline and huffs. “Y'know I would never do that again. I'm not gonna be the same stupid bastard the second time, Pipsqueak.”

The old nickname brings a wave of nostalgia washing over you. You can barely keep eye contact with him. 

“Caleb… we tried and it didn't work out…”

You trail off and the guilt inside his chest grows heavier and heavier.

He's torn between respecting your wishes and giving this a second shot. Caleb is nothing if not a determined man, and he can't accept failure when he hasn't fully assessed the problem and determined its roots. A part of him desperately wants to fix this… to fix things between you two before it's too late.

He was an idiot who let go of the most precious person in his life. The young Colonel had already lost you once, and he's not going to stand around as you move on with your life and forget about him.

“Stop defying me… I know you want this, too,” he mutters hoarsely, pressing his lips to your neck. “I know you miss me… call out for me… need me as much as I need you and no matter what it takes—”

His tone is rough with suppressed need and stubbornness. 

“—you will come back to me. We will be together again.”

It was a mistake. 

You knew it from the roots of your head to the tips of your toes, and yet, you fell for his charms (again) and let him carry you into the bedroom, where he lays you down on the soft mattress like it’s your honeymoon—again. 

Caleb’s larger build presses down onto you, nimble and sure fingers inching off his old DAA shirt from your frame as he gazes down at you with pure hunger in his eyes. He slots himself in between your thighs, warm palms kneading the fleshy dough of your breasts as you gasp and writhe.

Stupid, you chastise yourself as he leans forward to trap your turgid nipple in between his teeth. Stupid, you groan inwardly when his free hand pinches your other swollen bud. You absolute idiot—you suck in a huge breath when he feathers kisses down your sternum, mentally berating yourself on how you got here. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. And, yet, you could never say no to Caleb, not when he’s hellbent on claiming you as his again. 

But, that’s fine, right? 

Ex-spouses sleep with each other all the time, is what you’re trying to delude yourself with as he removes the rest of his uniform, leaving him just in his thick military pants. You squeeze your thighs around his waist, and he grunts, letting you drag him deeper into your ardent embrace. 

Caleb kisses down your neck and you lose yourself in his scent—his presence.

He hitches your thighs around his waist and it’s all over for you. Warm and slightly chapped kisses feather down your thighs, and he kisses the sole of your feet before he enters you; a worshipper at your altar.

And, oh—how you’ve missed his devotion.

When the electric storm of desire has passed, you lay in his embrace, sated and warm, a wreck looking for an anchor. He gently smooths his hand down your hair, the motion comforting and reminding you of all those times he would hold you tight in the afterglow.

“Marry me,” he whispers, just as your eyes droop close. 

They shoot wide open again and you gape at him like he’s lost his marbles.

Maybe he did. Maybe Caleb’s not all that right in the head.

“What did you say?”

“I said: marry me,” he mumbles and perches his head on one arm to look at you. The lovesick foolishness in his gaze must’ve been contagious, for you to find yourself falling back into the delusion that everything is as it once was.

You close your eyes, all the walls you’ve erected after months of trying to get over your ex-husband showing the cracks of your crumbling resolution. “Caleb, we—“

He covers your mouth with a palm, and the look in his eyes is nothing short of stubborn misery. “It’s okay if you say ‘no’, but… can you give me this one night, Pipsqueak? Just one night…”

You’re not some heartless monster to deny him an innocent delusion. And besides, you have to tend to his injury and you can’t do that when he’s away from you again. 

Wordlessly, you hold onto him and Caleb exhales as if he’s been holding his breath for a long time. 

As night gives way to morning and weak sunlight pours in through the wispy curtains, you wake up in bed with him beside you. 

Rubbing your eyes, you can’t believe he’s actually here—that he stayed.

He never used to stay in bed past 7 in the morning. 

Caleb tightens his grip on you and nuzzles your hair, stuck in a light doze. He slowly stirs when you muffle a yawn behind your palm, and shakes off the grogginess in those pretty, purple eyes. 

When you move your hand from your face, you notice something sparkly on your ring finger. On closer inspection, your heart skips a beat when you realize it’s your wedding ring. 

The familiar band around your finger fills you with a maelstrom of emotion, and you take a moment to forlornly study the modest cluster of diamonds—a testament to your love for Caleb that sadly never met its defining end. 

“Did you—?” The question dies in the back of your throat. He takes a deep breath and nods.

“I was serious before, princess,” he murmurs softly, and tenderly strokes the band with his thumb. “Want you to marry me—again.”

Caleb is never going to take your refusal as an answer. Maybe you can convince him not to repeat the same mistake twice.

“But, the Fleet—“

“Will never come between us again,” he promises. The firm slant of his brow never wavers, and so does the resolution in his tone. “I made the mistake once of trying so hard to keep two parts of my life separate that I lost the only person who ever made anything make sense. I know that now.” He tenderly strokes your cheek, those mercurial violet eyes fixed on you with unwavering devotion.

“I want us to try again. Can we do that, princess?” 

The earnest hope in his tone breaks your heart, but the steadiness of his adoration strengthens it.

“Okay,” you whisper after a moment. Hope lights his gaze, lifts your heart to soaring heights. 

“Let’s try again.” 

♡ feedback and reblogs are appreciated

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[seokmn]

FOR3VER ?! ⋆⭒˚.⋆

pairing: vernon x gn!reader wc: 1.2k words warnings: curse words. lua’s note: happy a bit early vernon (and dokyeom) day!

“baby, it’s okay. it’s buzzcut season anyway”

“I can't do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can't,” you sighed and placed the scissors on the bathroom sink. “I'm so sorry, Vernon, I didn't mean to do… this to you.”

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, and there you were with red eyes and nose from crying and Vernon with a reassuring and comforting smile and burned hair. “Y/N, just do it. Really.”

“I can’t-“ your tears started to fall down again. “I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry.”

Why are you stupid? Well, you're the one who burned Vernon’s hair. In a very ridiculous way.

You and Vernon were celebrating his birthday with a small cake and some pastries you bought for him. When you were about to light up the candle, a mosquito flew right in front of your face, and as a way to make it fly away, you shook the hand that you were holding the lighter. Stupid mistake, you'd say, because the lighter’s flame touched Vernon's hair, and the damage was done.

“Fuck, Y/N!!” Vernon said in desperation, trying to put out the fire with his hands, but scared of burning himself. You looked at him with pure horror and immediately grabbed the glass of water that was resting on the table and threw the liquid at him, right at the flame. “I'm sorry!”

He looked at you and you looked at him, and you reacted to the situation at the same time, but in a different way. You started to cry like a child when someone steals their candy, and Vernon, on the other hand, started to laugh loudly. However, his laughter died as soon as he took the sight of you crying so hard that if someone walked in and saw you in that state, they’d think a loved one died or would send Vernon to jail immediately, thinking he did the worst to you.

That was the situation that led you to where you were, in the bathroom with scissors and a hair clipper waiting to be used by you at your boyfriend’s hair.

“It wasn't your fault, Y/N. It was an accident, so don't be like this. It's fine”

“It's not fine! You'll look like an egg!” Vernon laughed and shook his head. “I won't look like an egg, and if I do, I'll be the most handsome egg ever.”

He reached out for your hand and squeezed it gently, a way of reminding you that he's not mad at all. You took a deep breath and took the scissors in your hands.

You looked at your reflection once again. “Are you sure?”

“Is there any other way of taking care of this?”

“Fair enough,” you nodded and started to cut the strands of his hair. Your heart clenched a little bit more every time you saw the strand fall to the ground. “I can't believe I'm doing this.”

“This is exciting!”

“No, it's not. It's depressing and ridiculous. Can you imagine if… I don't know," you thought about one of his friend's names. "Seungkwan asks you about your hair? What will you say? ‘Y/N set fire to my hair so I shaved it’? That's ridiculous and stupid.”

“Hey, I bet not every couple has this story to tell. That’s unique! Plus, I'm liking it.”

“Pass me the hair clipper, please,” you mumbled as he took the scissors from your hands and then gave you the hair clipper. “Don't make me bald tho, make me look like a hot guy with a hot buzz cut.”

Vernon smirked, trying to bring some humor to change your mood, but he was failing since you only glanced at him before turning the hair clipper on and running it over his head.

“There you go… It's done,” you said as you put the hair clipper down. You avoided looking at him, embarrassed about having to shave his head.

“Damn, I look hot!” Vernon ran his fingers through his almost nonexistent hair. “Baby quickly, which one do you prefer, me or Humpty Dumpty?”

You snorted with laughter, still not looking at his hair. “I won't choose a fucking egg, Vernon.”

He got up from the stool and cupped your cheeks, making you finally look at him. “Come on, Humpty Dumpty is kind of a smash.”

You chuckled and ran your hand over his head with a small pout. “Your hair… I'm sorry, really,” Vernon laughed and shook his head. “Stop apologizing, babe. I swear it's okay, it's buzz cut season anyways. Plus, I look really good, don't I?”

Vernon looked at himself in the mirror with a proud smile on his face, and you looked at his reflection as well. He truly looked good, you smiled a little and placed your head on his shoulder. “You do look good, really good. That’s a real smash, not fucking Humpty Dumpty.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “Come on, my birthday isn't over yet. Grab your coat.”

You left the bathroom and took your coats. “Let's go to the Han River and do the picnic you wanted to do,” you frowned, he wasn’t supposed to know about your picnic plans, it was a surprise. “How did you know?”

“I saw my sister’s message on your phone when you asked me to put it to charge.”

“Idiot, you could've at least pretend you didn't know!”

“You know I can't pretend that well, baby.”

“Look at that shining star, it's so pretty,” you pointed at the night sky. “Make a wish.”

“Don't you make a wish when you see a shooting star?”

“Yes, but we’ll pretend that that star is a birthday candle, because I'm not getting near a lighter so soon,” Vernon laughed and closed his eyes, making a wish. “Done.”

You looked at him, the moonlight kissing his facial features as he looked back at you. “Hope your wish comes true,” you reached out for his hand, your thumbs caressing his knuckles.

“It will, I just know it,” Vernon stayed in silence for a few seconds, appreciating your beauty as if it was his first time looking at you. If he wasn't already so deeply in love with you, he would have fallen in love even harder for you at that moment. (Un)fortunately, falling deeper for you was impossible. “I’ll love you forever, Y/N. Thank you for everything.”

“Even for the buzz cut?”

“Especially for the buzz cut. I've always wanted a buzz cut, so I loved it.”

“I'm glad my 'little accident’ made you happy,” you got closer and kissed the corner of his lips. Vernon, in reaction, let out a dramatic sigh, as if he was offended by your action. “How rude of you, kissing only the corner of your boyfriend's lips. Kiss me like you mean it!”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes before placing your hand on his cheek and pressing your lips against his.

“I was expecting a little bit more, tho,” he said as soon as you pulled away. "Well, I won't kiss you like you want in public. We’re not vulgar.”

“I wish we were,” Vernon sighed and looked at the night sky as his arms found the back of his head. He glanced at you quickly to take note of your reaction to his little joke. “Stop it!” You laughed in disbelief and hit his chest playfully, which made him laugh as well.

“But seriously now, how about we get back to my place?”

You checked the time on your phone and nodded. “Yeah, your family will already be there for the last surprise,” you knew that would ruin the surprise, but you didn't care at all since Vernon's reaction was priceless. “Poor baby, you thought we would be alone?” you cupped his cheeks and pouted, teasing him.

Vernon let out a deep sigh, he wanted to get frustrated, but he knew he couldn't. “At least I'm loved. Let's go to my last surprise of the day.”

"Maybe you'll have another surprise when they're gone," you teased.

"I liked that. I love my family, but I'm already thinking about when they will leave."

You chuckled, and Vernon wrapped his arm around your waist as he guided you to his car, going back home to enjoy the last moments of his birthday.

[scribblesandink]

"I don't want to talk to anyone. I'm sick of having to explain everything over and over and everyone assuming I fucked up and that's why I can't get better. And maybe I did, maybe it's entirely my fault like it always fucking is and I just can't see that but I'm so tired"

Apollo pressed his face into a pillow, body shaking as he tried to calm down. He dug his nails into his hands

"Apollo, why don't you take some deep breaths for me"

"I want to go home"

"I know. You will see your family in 3 weeks, remember? "

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[kitbunnyroo]

thinking about...abandoned android boyfriend....

lemme apologize from now...this is a looong one. it could be structured better, but it's literally just me updating this over the course of some hours/days (?). hope you enjoy this ridiculously long tidbit thooo! <3 (help y'all hit that 30 fast....tyyy!)

also omg thank you all for all the love on the centaur man post??? we love big strong bby fr, 100% will bring him back if y'all wanna see more of him 🤍🤍 (also, not proof read nothing i write is, so forgive any errors plsss)

like picture it, you just find him in a scrap yard cause your pet ran into it or something right...and you can tell that he's functioning, so you're confused as to why he got put for scrap? considering these things are crazy expensive, and the people who threw him out were ever so kind enough to leave all his original packaging, you took him back home.

it did take a while to get his station set up in a little corner, but it wasn't too bad, especially as you looked into the illuminated green eyes of the android who stood a good head or two taller than yourself once you figured out how to get him up and running again.

after you explained in even greater detail how he came to be in your possession, you could almost hear the mechanics in his brain recalibrating all the missed system updates as he now addressed you as master/mistress. not ideal, but who are you to complain once he fixes the drip in your sink that almost cost you hundreds of dollars. maybe having an android in your home wouldn't be so bad.

time flies and you come to find out he was scrapped cause beyond functionality, he had somehow developed a conscious of sorts. which when you think about it, anybody else would be freaked out by their machine suddenly smiling and showing human emotions. was it freaky? hell yeah. was it bad?....not so much.

there was lots of reassurance to be done...he thought that once he started to slip and his consciousness shone through again you'd dump him to be scrap metal too...well, after they remove the scarily realistic skin-like material that outlines his hardware. "So...you're not going to power me off and box me up like the last family did..?" he'd find himself asking after long conversations about how you don't really care he got more human-like as the days went on. living on your own it isn't that bad to feel like you have extremely helpful company rather than a machine in your empty halls. and when he looks at you oh so sweetly? how can you not tell him this is his home too.

android housemate, doing his best to make sure you're always happy. always stress free. always well taken care of. always healthy. always satisfied. so when he's cleaning your room and finds a vibrator, he's everything and appalled. why would you have this when he's right here? was he not good enough? did you not want him to help you? was it his fault? but he simply places it on it's charger and closes your door. when you get home that day you can tell something's off, it's the same air as the early stages when he thought you'd throw him out. so you just make sure to be extra sweet to your caring housemate.

android housemate, now doing research on human pleasure, watching porn, reading all sorts of articles and Quora forums. this seems easy enough to do...he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't ask him to help. darling android housemate realizing that his fans start to go double time when the pixels start to look like you instead of whoever is actually in the videos...even more so when he realizes that's what an imagination is like and that his is picturing himself with you in these videos...he wonders if that can happen....

yandere (???) android housemate who's suddenly gotten all clingy once you're home. as usual, dinner is hot and plated, desert already lined up, but as you shower you can hear him making the time to pick out your outfit from your drawers instead of double checking all is well in the rest of the house...odd, but you don't pay the particularly revealing choice of clothing much mind. dinner goes as usual, till he offers you a much more...inviting? smile after you tell him about your grievances of the day. his eyes never leaving you, even as you eat and he updates minor software...you ask if he can close the windows cause there's a much too warm of a breeze coming in, and he's suddenly glad he has the capabilities to hide the blush that threatened to rise to his fabricated cheeks since it was just his fans. he was getting a bit too much enjoyment from the sight of you wearing an outfit he had picked, enjoying his meals that he makes you everyday, you chose him from the scrap yard that he's convinced held many other androids...

yandere (??) android housemate that's gotten cold to you since you brought home another human and claim that they're your partner. he'd thought that he was being clear with his consecutive months of flirting since his research began, but apparently not clear enough. now he's forced to watch as you bring this human over, it is nice to hear you brag about how lovely he treats you though, especially when he sees them almost shrink where they sit, obviously he can already tell they won't be able to treat you better than your housemate. how could they? they're just a weak human, and he's an android that's learnt every last one of your tastes.

yandere (?) android housemate that's gotten over his chilly attitude in favour of comforting you after your breakup and every proceeding one from then on. on one hand he doesn't enjoy seeing you hurt, but on the other hand he knows the only one meant for you is him, so he'll continue to let these humans know that they won't ever hold a candle to him when it comes to your affections. you don't have to be in pain, you just have to realize he's the one for you. and you can go back to your blissful life.

yandere...android housemate who's worried after you stumble through the door after a work/college party, clearly intoxicated out of your mind. he effortlessly picks you up and takes you to your room, laying next to you when you refused to let him go cause his generated warmth was nice compared to the cold of the air conditioned room. he listens to you babble on about who knows what, and then about your latest break up, and then he's shocked when you blurt out that he'd make such a good boyfriend if he wasn't an android...and somehow, somewhere in his wiring, that hurt? but it also lit something cause you went on to praise all he does for you, especially highlighting his advances and he comes to the conclusion that you only started looking for a human partner because you had assumed that although he had a conscious, he couldn't feel romance. and boy was he now determined to prove you wrong.

yandere. android housemate, now doing everything possible after that night to display romantic affection. sensual massages after particularly aggravating days where his fingers work wonders to the tension coursing through your body, at first you don't think much of it, but when you feel the spikes of breeze specifically from him after every one of your moans, you try to keep your voice down. he downloads them to his software though, and is quickly researching the different modifications available for his kind.

yandere android housemate that gets tired of being referred to by his model name and demands you give him a proper one. and you do. and he loves it. thankfully, he's still linked to the cards of his previous family, so he can make purchases using their money instead of yours without suspicion. he gets his "personal" modification made under their card, leaves right after you do for school/work, and he's back before you're home, already getting things sorted for when you're back. now he just has to hide the tent that forms whenever you call him by the name you gave him....

newly named yandere android...you're not sure anymore. after walking in on him far too many times since you're used to him usually being smooth, but now he has an...enticing, length of dick just hanging between his legs now, it's kind of awkward. even more so when you find yourself outside his newly appointed bedroom to ask him to do something, and end up overhearing his whiney voice floating through the air. now you can't help but wonder how it feels if the rest of his skin feels like regular human skin...maybe an android boyfriend won't be so bad after all...

your android housemate, putting in extra work to keep you happy once he realizes you're not bringing home any more humans. even the vibrator and any other toys you might've had are stored away rather than readily available near your bed. maybe if he does a good enough job, you'll finally ask him for help. you swear you see a subtle throb in his pants sometimes when the thought runs through his not so little android brain.

your android boyfriend with fans so loud when you finally ask him to touch you, that you could've sworn you misread his intentions. but as soon as you try to back out of the situation he's pulled you against his chest with one of hands deeply entangled in you hair while the other hugs you close to him, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was desperate for that moment...that and the fact that once you're finally in bed he takes initiative to slip under your blanket next to you instead of going to his own room, his hands finding their way snugly around your waist to cuddle you but surely making their way lower down, quicker when he realizes that not only are not trying to stop him, but you're basically leaning into his touch. the frenzy he goes into when you whisper his name that you gave him has your legs quivering on his shoulders, toes pointed every which way as those same illuminated eyes stay glued to your body, confusingly realistic tongue moving more enthusiastically with every sound you make.

your android boyfriend. who now takes any chance he can get to ask if he can fuck you. if his tongue game was this good...what else was he capable of? the thought barely has time to run across your mind because as soon as you agree he's gonna have you folded in half and stuffed full of the most realistic dildo you've ever felt. it didn't feel fabricated in the slightest. from the throb of the veins in your walls to the way it drags so fucking good inside of you, and he makes sure to study your body as he goes. this particular spot made your eyes roll? he's going right back there. you like having you sensitive bits teased while his balls are slapping your skin so hard you can hear them through the wet mess? he's abusing them. by the time he's done you've came enough times to lose count, and best believe he makes sure to endlessly thank and praise you through every bit of it. comments of how good you make him feel, the dimming of his eyes enough to let you know he really does feel it, thanking you for letting him be this close to you, begging you not to go when you try to squirm away from the overstimulation (he calms down a bit so you can catch yourself whenever it's really too much), not to mention the starved kisses he gives you whenever the position allows (all the time). he'll have your back against the wall and hold you up so the only place you can go is further onto his cock while his tongue finally gets to explore your mouth. you'd never believe an android could be so adorably vocal. the moans, the whimpers, the whines. (he can't bring himself to degrade you though, sorry </3)

your android boyfriend making sure he puts the utmost effort into after care. if you let him hit, he's sure to run you a shower or bath of your preference, and trust that when you're out he's already got you a freshly made meal with an accompanying drink. he always makes sure to ask if he was too rough with you, gently massaging your muscles while you relax after your meal. if there's anything, anything at all you desire, he already does it for you, but now he'll go the extra miles if it means you'll be even happier.

your android husband, proposed after years of taking you out on the most wonderful dates, planned more of the wedding than you did since he only wanted you to worry about looking your best, he does let you help if you want though <3. android husband who can't cry, but you almost swear you see him sobbing as you walk (or he walks if you'd prefer) down the aisle, the tears slowing down but never to a complete stop till it's finally time for the "I do"s. your android husband who takes you on a splendid honeymoon of nothing but relaxation, good sights and food, and even better sex. he knows he can't get you pregnant, but that doesn't mean he can't try extra hard once the topic of children roll around. if you do want children though, he's not against adoption (or a sperm donor once their background checks out)

(for his family he invited his previous family, who were surprisingly chill with him using their cards to fund your vacations and now wedding...talk about rich rich)

your android husband <333.

this totaled to 2,264 words (woah??), and i can NOT lie?? i like it. hope you enjoyed this terribly long read and tysm again for all the support like hello!!🤍✨

[goldfades]

NEED more controversially young gf x sidney bc he looked so good today

ouuuu yes, he's so father figure i need him NEOW.

Sidney liked to think he had some self-control.

He wasn’t impulsive. Never had been. Everything he did—his routines, his training, his life—was built around discipline. Focus. Restraint.

So, in theory, he should’ve had no problem resisting you.

Except... he absolutely did not.

You were spoiled. His fault. You were used to getting what you wanted. Also his fault. Because no matter how many times he swore he wouldn’t play into the whole rich, older boyfriend who gives his girl whatever she wants stereotype, the second you hit him with that look—wide, pleading eyes, pout just barely pushing your bottom lip forward—he was done for. Every damn time.

And what was worse? You knew it.

"Baby, please."

Sidney let out a slow breath through his nose, staring at you from across the kitchen island, arms crossed over his chest in some weak attempt at standing firm. "No."

You gasped dramatically, hand on your heart. "No?"

"No," he repeated, pretending to be unaffected.

You squinted at him, assessing, then leaned forward on your elbows, your expression shifting into something softer, sweeter. "Siddy," you crooned, dragging out the nickname only you could get away with.

"Still no," he said, a little less firm.

Your lashes fluttered. "But—"

"No."

A pout. "Just hear me out—"

"Absolutely not."

And then, the final move. Your finisher. Your undefeated strategy.

The big, doe-eyed, lower-lip-jutting, perfectly calculated princess pout.

Sidney swore he could actually feel himself losing the battle in real time.

"Baby," you murmured, tilting your head just so, voice going all soft and sugary.

He exhaled sharply, already regretting his entire existence. "You don’t even need another bag."

You blinked up at him, innocence personified. "Did I say it was a bag?"

"It’s always a bag," he shot back.

"Not true!" you argued, straightening up. "Sometimes it’s shoes."

Sid dragged a hand down his face. "That’s not helping your case."

"Okay, but, babe, listen," you said, shifting tactics, voice all logical and persuasive now. "Technically, you like when I buy nice things, because you love when I look cute, right?"

Sidney let out a tired chuckle, shaking his head. "You’re unbelievable."

"Unbelievably cute?" you offered, grinning now, knowing you were winning.

Sid let the silence hang between you for a second longer, giving himself the illusion of control, before sighing. "Fine."

Your entire face lit up, and that—that was the thing. That’s why he could never say no to you. Because every single time he gave in, he got that look. That sparkle in your eye, that giddy little smile, that barely-contained excitement.

"You’re the best," you beamed, practically skipping around the island to throw your arms around his neck.

Sid caught you easily, hands settling on your waist. "I’m an idiot," he muttered into your hair.

"You’re my idiot," you corrected, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pulling back. "Now, since I already have you in a giving mood—"

Sid groaned, tilting his head back. "Oh my god."

"—hear me out," you continued, undeterred. "The new Chanel collection—"

"Absolutely not."

You pouted.

Sid sighed.

You won again.

[multiversediaries]

at last

bucky barnes x reader

summary: after months apart, bucky finally came home.

warnings: soft!!!!!! soft buck!

masterlist

“y/n? i’m back." you heard someone say loudly. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. you lived alone, well, sometimes. you were james barnes' wife. you had met him a long time ago, you were always there for him, and he was deadly in love with you. he cared so deeply about you. if something were to happen to you, he'd lose his mind. which is why he decided to hide your marriage, to keep you out of danger's way. you walked towards your front door, wondering who it was. your eyes light up as you saw your husband standing in front of you.

"hey, doll." bucky said smiling, genuinely smiling, as he took you into his strong arms. behind him, were the avengers, all of them. they were currently in a mission, that was supposed to take a while, which was the reason you were so surprised to see your husband back at your shared house.

"what's happening?" you heard tony say, confused at the sight of you two. you giggled a bit, pulling away from your hug. bucky smiled at you, taking in how gorgeous you looked. he wrapped his hand around your waist.

"i'm sorry i didn't let you know in advance, but we needed a place where we couldn't be tracked." bucky said, his voice as soft as always. you noticed the confused faces whilst your husband spoke to you as he has always done, soft and incredibly sweetly. you nodded, softly humming in response, a big smile planted on your lips, understanding him.

"alright, robocop, spill. where are we and who's the lovely woman?" tony asked, making your cheeks flush softly. you heard bucky sigh. you rubbed his back gently.

"she's bucky's wife, tony." steve said, gaining your attention. you smiled at him, he chuckled at you. "it's nice to see you again, y/n." he said, leaning over to hug you. you instantly hugged him back, squeezing him gently. steve was present at your wedding. you couldn't help but smile at tony's reaction. everyone always reacted the same way about your marriage to james. it sometimes made your heart ache. because how could so many people think that he's unloveable?

"wife?" natasha spoke in surprise, as you looked at her. you knew nat. you were a widow. you escaped a few years after she did. you gave her a hug as well, glad to see she was doing well. "you didn't tell me you got married. i must admit, my feelings are hurt." she sad, pouting, you laughed.

"it was my idea. i just- i didn't want her in any danger." bucky said, as you looked back up at your husband. you smiled at him, his hand tracing circles on your skin. natasha nodded.

"well, come inside." you said softly, walking into your living room, everyone following behind you. they all took seats around your couch. you walked up to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit, as you saw some of them were injured.

"everything alright?" you said gently, as you sat across from tony, who had a few cuts on his face. bucky stood by the door frame, as he watched you.

"it just got complicated." steve said, sighing. you nodded, not wanting to intrude. you began cleaning tony's wounds, earning a few hisses from him. you tried to be as gentle as possible.

"i'm sorry, i just don't get it." tony said, breaking the silence, looking at you. you tilted your head in confusion, as you applied a band aid on his small cut. "how can someone like you be married to him?" he asked cockily. you laughed a bit at his words. you knew tony and bucky were not in a good place, after all, the winter soldier was responsible for his parents' deaths. but that wasn't bucky's fault.

"because you only know the winter soldier, but i know james barnes." you simply said, moving onto clint's injuries. bucky couldn't help but smile at your words. that was something he loved about you, how unashamed you were to love him. even after everything he had done, you wouldn't leave his side. he felt so undeserving of you.

after cleaning all of their wounds, you prepared some food for them. you wanted to help as much as you could, and it just felt so nice to have people around. you didn't have many friends apart from bucky, steve and natasha. you smiled as you watched the avengers dine, talking over their mission as you cleaned the dishes. you felt someone's hand wrap around you. you smiled, almost instantly.

"i missed you, darling." bucky said, planting a sweet kiss to your neck. you smiled widely, turning around to face him. you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging his body close to yours.

"i missed you even more, barnes. have you been doing alright?" you asked softly, your hands now laying in his cheeks, caressing his gorgeous features. you had spent so much time apart from him. almost three months apart. you felt empty without your other half. he nodded, kissing your forehead.

"i'm okay. i just want to be here with you." he said softly. your hands ran to now caress his back, as you looked up at bucky.

"i know, baby. but they need you. and honestly, you need them too." you said, leaning up to kiss his jaw. he nodded, before planting a sweet peck to your lips. he walked back towards your dining table, and continued the conversation about their mission.

it was very late at night already. all of the guys were resting. you had a lot of empty rooms, so you were able to offer a room to every single one of them. you wanted them to be comfortable, after everything they had gone through lately. you yawned softly as you waited for bucky on your shared bed. he walked out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair on a towel. you smiled at him, you couldn't believe he was back. he sat by the end on the bed and just looked at you. you smiled at him, before standing up, to help him off his prosthetic arm.

"it's alright, doll. maybe i should keep it on." he said, staring up at you as you stood right in front of him. you placed both your hands on his face.

"you're home, buck. you're safe." you said lightly, earning a shaky breath to leave his mouth. he wrapped his arms around your hips, hugging you. your hands ran to his soft hair, before planting a sweet kiss on his head.

"for the first time in a while, i was scared, y/n." you heard bucky say, you listened to his every word, as you played with his hair. "i was terrified of not coming back to you." he said, his arms tightening around you, earning a frown from you.

"james.." you said softly, trying your hardest to find his eyes. he was scared, you could tell. you wonder what had happened to have him this shaken up.

"it's just so much worse than we thought.. i'm not sure we'll be able to do something about it." he said, now looking up to meet your gorgeous eyes. you sighed softly.

"you'll be okay, my love. you will all be okay." you said, as you felt his hands pulling you even closer to him, as if he needed to feel you close. "i don't know the extent of what's happening, but i do know one thing. you guys are the earth's mightest heroes. it's alright to have doubts, but don't let them control you. you may not know what to do right now, but you will soon enough." you said, one of your hands running to his check to caress his beautiful face. "we all need a break sometimes. take this time to rest, and reflect. and a solution will come to you. but for now, rest, baby." you finished. he sighed and nodded. you always knew what to say.

"gosh, doll. i have missed you so much. being apart from you is torture." he said, now letting go of your waist. you smiled widely, kissing him lovingly, before helping him take off his arm. you placed it on the case and walked back to him, you placed a kiss to his shoulder, climbing back to bed once again.

bucky followed you to bed, laying his head on your chest. your hand ran to his hair, your fingers getting lost into his brown hair. bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you as close as he possible could. you placed small kisses to his head and forehead, as your gentle giant fell asleep peacefully in your arms.

at last. he was home.

[hees-mine]

My neighbor - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cum eating, cursing, dirty talk, alcohol, oral, age gap and the gap is gapping so if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

WC: 4,247k

-

You sighed for the thousand time while you sat on the couch watching whatever boring show that was on the tv.

You much rather be out having fun, partying, and enjoying yourself, maybe even getting fucked.

But no.

Instead, you’ve sat two cushions away from your neighbor while he “kept an eye on you.”

It was ridiculous you were old enough not to need someone checking in on you, but your parents insisted that it’d make them comfortable knowing a trusted adult was watching over you while they went on a romantic getaway.

You looked over at him with a glare while he laughed at something on the screen that you weren’t paying attention to. You eyed him from head to toe, and there was a look of disgust on your face. If it wasn’t for him, you could be out having the time of your life, but you calmed yourself down, reminding yourself it wasn’t heeseung’s fault. After all, he was a good friend of your parents. After moving into the lot next to yours a few years ago, he hit it off with your parents right away and soon became a staple in your household, coming over on weekends for dinner and family game night.

He was nice, and you enjoyed his company, don’t get it wrong, but right now, you didn’t, especially when you tried to sneak up to your room with hopes that he wouldn’t notice. Maybe you could escape out your window and enjoy your night after all, but alas. “Ah ah ah, sit down, missy.”

You sighed again, plopping down on the couch after he caught you.

A smile tugged at heeseung’s lips. He’s a bit too old to be fooled by your tricks. He’d been in your shoes before, so there was no way anything you did would get by him tonight.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s only one week,” he says as if that wasn’t like a thousand days to a teenager. “Are you hungry? I’m not much of a cook, but I could make some tomato soup, or we could order out whatever sounds good to you.”

You appreciate his offer, you really do, and you should happily accept, seeing how he’s taking time out of his week to make sure you’re safe fed and taken care of, but that itch of defiance and frustration overpower you, and you find yourself declining.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” You slouch down in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and getting a pouty look on your face.

Such a crybaby, heeseung thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud, knowing you’d hate it if he called you that.

“Well, I’m starving, so I’m gonna order a pizza,” he announced and pulled out his phone, ordering everything he liked.

It only takes twenty minutes for it to arrive again. You attempted to run off, but sadly, the transaction between heeseung and the pizza delivery guy was too short for you to make your great escape.

You don’t know how long it’s been now, but long enough to get you even more agitated because you could be at the party you were invited to. It’s been started for an hour or more, but instead, here you are, stuck with your neighbor while he sits across from you, dining on his pizza like it’s a delicacy.

“Can I please go out, heeseung? I promise I won’t tell if you let me,” You give in, pleading with him to let you go out.

“No can do it. It’s my duty to make sure you stay here. Besides, your parents trust me, and I wouldn’t want to break it,” he says strictly.

You throw your head back exaggeratedly, and he can’t help but laugh, making your head snap back to look at him with eyes that could kill.

“What’s so great out there anyway?” he asks, taking a sip from his pop.

“Music friends drinks,” you list out all the things you’re missing out on. “Dick,” you mutter, but he hears you anyway, nearly spitting out his drink.

“You drink?!” He asks wide-eyed because you’re underage, and that’s why he’s so shocked.

“Duh, get with the times, old man.” You roll your eyes at him.

“I’ll have you know I’m only thirty-eight,” he replied, unamused by you.

“Yeah, old.”

“I’m gonna ignore that comment since you’re an emotional teenager figuring yourself out.” This time, you look at him unamused by what he said. “What? Fair play.” he shrugged, both of you, knowing there was no real harm meant by your exchange. “Anyway, I’m still not understanding your problem because everything you want is right here,” he says nonchalantly.

You looked at him weirdly, wondering what he meant by that.

Noticing your confusion, he elaborated.

“There’s booze in the cabinet. I can play some music. We’re friends, I think? And well,” he sets his food aside, spreading his legs on the sofa and facing you. “I have a dick,” he says casually.

He couldn’t help the slight smile that graced his features by your shocked reaction. He didn’t know why you were so surprised. He supposed his idea was a bit outlandish, but it kills two birds with one stone. He’ll know for a fact. You’re safe, and you can have your little party at home with him.

“Heeseung, stop joking.” Laughing nervously, your eyes shifted away from him, unable to comprehend what he said. You understood it perfectly fine, but you couldn’t quite grasp that he was actually being serious.

“I’m not. besides, this solves our problem. I know that you’re safe with me, and you can get everything you want.”

Okay, as good as that sounded, you have to decline. That would be stepping over boundaries you could never uncross.

Besides, it's heeseung you couldn’t. He was too near and dear to your parents. You couldn’t risk it and muddy up their relationship by fucking your neighbor. You don’t know how they’d feel if they ever found out something like that. “Heeseung, we shouldn’t my parents trust you.”

“Oh, so now you understand my point of view,” he laughs. “But it’s alright.” he places his hand on your thigh, scooting closer to you. “I’m sure you can keep a secret, isn’t that right, little alcoholic?” he teases you about your drinking habits, giving your thigh a light pinch.

“Stop it,” you giggled, pushing at his shoulder playfully.

“It’s up to you, Angel.” You nearly lose it at the nickname, his voice going straight to your core.

Since when were you attracted to your neighbor?

“What if I say yes?” You ask, your hand placed on his chest and trailing down to his stomach.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.” he leans in his hot breath, fanning your face. “So what’s it gonna be?”

“Yes,” you whisper, lips brushing across his from the proximity.

His soft lips press against yours, and his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll be right back,” he parts from you to go to the kitchen, grabbing the alcohol from the cabinet and two shot glasses before turning off the kitchen lights and coming back to you.

“Oh?” you say with a raised brow, noting the liquor he chose.

“Thought you might like it,” he said, sitting back on the couch.

“It’s my favorite.” he smiles at that, grabbing the remote to put on his R&B playlist. After setting the remote down, he grabs the bottle, pouring you both a shot. “To secrets.” he holds his glass up to yours, clanking it softly.

“To secrets,” you smirk at him, both of you downing the shot.

The alcohol burns through your system, already heating your body up with a very familiar desire.

His eyes drop to your lips, zeroing in on the sheen from the alcohol that covers them, making them look so much more enticing than they already do.

He doesn’t hold himself back from leaning into you and pressing his lips against yours. He pulled back a little, resting his forehead against yours with a breathless chuckle before he reattached his lips to yours.

You don’t shy away from cupping his face, tilting your head to the side to feel more of him.

He placed his hand on your right thigh, rubbing sensually to the music that plays in the background.

He’s the first to open his mouth, giving you full access to him. Immediately, your tongue finds his as you lick your way into his mouth, and you could have never imagined your neighbor was such a good kisser.

He slides his hand upward, slipping it underneath your shut to cup your covered breast, and you moan softly into his mouth. He hums at the softness, his other hand doing the same.

Both his hands work to unclasp your bra, the material sliding down your waist, leaving you with nothing to separate the feeling of his warm hands kneading your tender breasts.

You cry out as he toys with your hardened nipples. Unable to keep the kiss in rhythm, he opts to leave wet mout,h kisses along your jaw as your hands tangle in his hair. You arch into his touch, heat pooling in your core.

He teases the tip of your earlobe with his tongue, and from then on, the quiet whimpers that leave your lips are endless.

His warm wet tongue traces along your jawline before he nibbles your ear lobe, and you can’t say your pussy didn’t clench from the feeling. “More heeseung, please.”

Releasing your earlobe from his mouth, he leaned back to take in your flushed state.

Wordlessly, he tugs on the hem of your shirt, and you lift it over your head, tossing it on the floor.

He smirks at the sight of your bare chest, feeling his dick grow harder as he eyes each of your perked nipples. Using the couch to brace himself, he hovers over you, tongue flicking on your left nipple as your hands desperately work on his button-up one button at a time till they’re fully undone.

“Heeseung,” you moan, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and revealing his broad chest.

Your hands have a mind of their own as you caress his body up and down. He shivers from your touch, nipples growing hard as your fingers graze them.

One hand slides up his back and into his hair, the other going lower to press down on the bulge in his pants. “God,” he grunts as you stimulate his sensitive cock under his pants.

He lazily licks up your chest kissing and sucking anywhere he can reach. He takes his shirt off the rest of the way to caress your body, his large hands gripping and pulling you closer by the waist.

Inpatient, you tug on his pants, letting him know you want them off, and he’s quick to give you what you want. Standing up, he sheds his pants off, throwing them to the other side of the living room.

Joining him, you stand as well, and before you can, he’s already yanking your pajamas down, and you giggle at his eagerness.

He laughs softly and raises a brow, looking at your panties that cling to your crotch with arousal, and it’s obvious what he wants. “What?” You say, pretending to be oblivious.

He steps closer, fingers dipping into your waistband, and he’s happy to clear up any confusion on your end. “Let me eat that pussy, baby” he lets the waistband snap and hit your skin, making you let out a soft moan.

He presses himself against you, his cock nudged right against your pussy, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your core against him. “Please,” you whimper as you feel him intentionally rubbing his bulge on you.

He easily picks you up, placing you down on the edge of the couch and kneeling in front of it, spreading your legs open. “Let’s take these off” he grabs your panties, pulling them off your trembling legs and revealing your soaked cunt.

Looking up at you, he smirks at the sight of your cunt. It’s literally dripping. “You look so fucking good,” he grunts, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. Your little cunt is all wet and messy all because of him.

He bends down, inhaling your scent, eyes falling shut as his cock twitches beneath his underwear. “Smells so good,” he whispers, his breath blowing across your pussy lips, watching as you clench around nothing.

He pressed his lips to your clit, making you jolt from the first contact, and he smiled already from how reactive you were to his touch. Opening his mouth, he flattened his tongue, licking upwards between your folds, the tip of his tongue right on your hole where your juices flow out of.

“Tastes good, too” his brows knit in concentration as he makes out with your pussy sucking, kissing, and licking all the parts that had you roughly gripping his hair and whimpering his name.

“Feels so good, heeseung fuck” you cry out, watching as his skilled tongue pleasures your pussy. The sight was almost too much for your racing heart to handle.

He caressed and massaged your thighs, his right hand sneaking up to play with your hole, circling his thumb around it, teasing your engorged folds that beg for releases.

“Please put your finger in me.” Looking up at you, he shoves his thumb inside your hole, feeling you clench immediately.

“Yes fuck” you whimper as his tongue circles your clit, and he fucks your hole with his thumb.

He hums in satisfaction, sending little vibrations on your clit, and you made the huge mistake of locking eyes with him. The moment you did, you came crashing down embarrassingly quick, your moans mixing with the lewd wet sounds of him eating your pussy.

Your legs quiver, thighs clamping around his head as he works you through it, moaning into your pussy cause of the beautiful taste you left on his tongue.

You breathe out shakily, your hands slowly combing through his hair as your cunt throbs uncontrollably, sucking on his thumb, and he can’t wait to feel the same on his dick.

He cleans everything that your hole pushes out with his tongue lapping and savoring every last bit of it. “Love the way you taste,” he moans, not leaving any inch of your pussy untouched by his tongue. He made sure to collect every last drop of your release. “Could eat you all day.”

A shiver runs down his spine as the taste of you lingers on his tongue, and he might just be obsessed with you after that.

Kissing your inner thighs, his thumbs circle your flesh, your fingers tickling his scalp making his dick twitch.

Reluctantly parting from you, he stands up, and the unmistakable bulge in his boxers catches your eyes. You involuntarily lick your lips just at the thought of his cock.

He smirks, reaching for your hands and placing them on the waistband of his underwear, waiting for you to make the next move. With a swiftness, you pull down his underwear freeing his hard dick.

He bites his bottom lip softly as your right hand wraps around his girth, the other teasing at his waistline with your fingertips.

You hear him groan quietly as you twist your wrist, massaging his cock in a circular motion.

He outstretched his arm, his left hand teasing your nipple, tugging on it while you worked his length. The moment a bead of precum leaked from his tip, you immediately gathered it on your fingertip, tapping the head of his cock lightly.

You brought your finger to your mouth, sucking his precum off, eyes meeting his as you swirled your tongue around the tip.

His cock twitched at the action, and you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him forward until he had no choice but to join you on the couch, his knees resting beside your legs as he hovered over you.

The position confuses him at first, but the moment you sunk lower on the couch, leveling your face with his crotch, he knew he was in for it.

He looked down just in time to watch you open your mouth to lick his tip, his body shuddering as he let out a short breath. “Hmm”

Swirling your tongue around his shaft, you opened up wide, hands going to the backs of his thighs, taking his length into your mouth.

You nudged him closer, giving him a hint, and he slowly began to move his hips, thrusting forward carefully into your mouth. “Shit,” he hisses, dragging his length out, then pushing back into the wet warmness of your mouth.

-

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[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter nine

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

You have mediation with Eddie, then get some big news afterwards.

Warnings:

Custody arguments, court, pregnancy

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N:

I’m sorry this chapter took forever to get out! Hoping to be faster with the next one 🙏🏻

“Ms. Henderson,” the mediator steepled his hands over his chest as he sat back in his leather chair. “You are not willing to agree to 50/50 custody, correct?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your chair. Your eyes darted to Eddie sitting across from you, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. “No,” you answered.

He looked at Eddie, who adjusted his suit cuffs as he gave you a look. He went to speak, but his lawyer spoke for him. “My client is not willing to take less.”

“Neither of you are willing to budge at all?” The mediator asked, like why are you even here?

Why were you here? That was Eddie’s stupid fault. Just looking at him pissed you off. You’d been hoping he would at least come to his senses by the time mediation came around, but unfortunately that did not happen.

You and Eddie looked at one another. You both shook your heads, set in your decisions. The mediator held his hands up- “Well, if we can’t come to an agreement here, the next step would be court intervention.”

You shook your head, bringing your hand up to cover your eyes as tears began to well. This could not be happening. Eddie’s lawyer began packing up, and you could feel your ex’s eyes on you.

Eddie wanted to say something, to reach out and touch you and comfort you, but his lawyer was pushing him from the room and, at the end of the day, he was the reason for your stress and pain, anyway. As usual, he thought to himself.

He hated himself for this. Sure he wanted the time with his son, but he was putting you through hell. He hadn’t even realized until he’d seen you today, but it was evident it was having an effect on you. You looked sick.

You felt sick. You had finally made that doctor’s appointment your mom and Steve had been hounding you about, which is where you’d be heading next. You straightened your blouse and skirt and stood, trying to compose yourself before walking out of the room.

Eddie caught your attention in the hall as you left. He could see your eyes bloodshot from crying, the dark circles around them. He felt like shit. But he also felt like this was his right - his son - and he didn’t want to back down. But goddamn, he never liked seeing you hurt.

“This is so stupid, you know that?” You hissed at him in the hallway as you reached him. “You have the band. You travel. You go on tour for months at a time. And you want 50/50?”

“He can stay with you when I’m on tour, okay?” Eddie said, trying to get you to see his side. “Or with Wayne some nights. He can even come visit me when he’s older. I just want to have as much time with my son as I can when I’m home.”

You understood where he was coming from, but you couldn’t have Asher taken from you half the time. You couldn’t stand the thought. “It’s just too much, Ed. I don’t mind some visitation, but 50/50 - it’s just too much. You can’t take him from me half the time.”

Eddie let out a short, humorless laugh. “I am not trying to take him from you! Jesus, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“But you are,” you said, tears once again starting to fall. “If you do this, you are.”

Before Eddie could say anything else you turned and left, heels clicking as you walked out of the courthouse. You were meeting Steve outside to take you to your appointment, and you knew he’d want to hear how the mediation has gone.

It had been pointless, just as you suspected.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Steve asked as he pulled up outside the doctor's office. You eyed the door, dreading going inside.

“No, it’s okay.” You began unbuckling your seatbelt, grabbing your bag from the floor. “Just take Ash and go play, I should be done in an hour.”

Steve nodded, but his expression was etched with concern. “Okay. We’ll be back then. Just…I’m here for you, you know that?”

“I know.” You smiled at him gently, but your body was buzzing with anxiety. Steve had had a point about your lack of a period. It still hadn’t come. You were very late, and you never were.

Well. Once.

You climbed out of the car with your bag, giving Steve one last smile. You opened the back door and leaned in to give Asher a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, buddy. Be good for Steve. I love you.”

“Love you!” He said back, reaching for you as you pulled away.

You carefully shut the door as you moved back, waving one last time as they pulled off. You took a deep breath, then turned and walked into the office.

Steve drove down the road to the nearby park. He unbuckled Asher from his seat and let him down, the toddler running to the playground equipment as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. Steve chased after him, running out of breath a lot faster than he used to.

Asher climbed and played on the slides, Steve pushed him on the swing, and they played a game of catch with the big rubber ball you brought from home.

When they got hungry, Steve bought a couple snacks from the vending machine. Asher pointed to the candy bar as it fell, laughing hard.

“What, you like the vending machine?” Steve laughed. He put in another dollar and punched in the number for a bag of chips. Asher watched with rapt attention as the snack was dispensed and fell down into the bottom. He squealed with delight, watching as Steve grabbed the bag.

They ate lunch together on the grass, enjoying the cool weather. It was nearly Halloween, and there was a chill in the air. Steve wondered what you had planned for the holiday, since you hadn’t brought it up with everything else going on.

“Alright, big man,” Steve said once they were done eating, “Let’s run out all your energy before we go pick up Mommy.”

Steve chased him around, the little boy laughing his head off as Steve pretended to be unable to catch him. As he ran back to the main part of the playground, he tripped over the step, falling forward onto his face on the mulch. He immediately started crying and Steve panicked, rushing to his side.

He lifted him up, examining his face for injuries. He had a big scrape on his left cheek, but otherwise looked fine. He was wailing, and it broke Steve’s heart.

“Hey, Ash, it’s okay,” Steve cooed softly, picking him up as he headed back for the car. “You’re okay, buddy. Just a little scrape. You’re such a big boy.”

He sat Asher up in the passenger seat as he reached into the glove compartment for the first aid kit you insisted he keep. Now, he was grateful for your helicopter parenting. He sprayed some of the disinfectant on Asher’s cheek, which made him cry more and made Steve feel like shit. He then covered it with a Thomas band aid, which Asher loved.

He got Ash back in his car seat before getting back in the front. It had been about an hour, so it was time to pick you up. His mind raced as he drove, wondering what it would mean if you were pregnant. It could be his - he could be a dad. A real dad. But it also could be Eddie’s. As much as he hated it, he remembered that night you spent with Eddie when he got to town. Yeah there was some time between instances, but it was close enough it would be hard to tell.

As much as he had tried to help you avoid this - besides the accidentally cumming inside, that was on him - he was kind of excited by the idea of you carrying his child. He knew you would look so beautiful, glowing, just like you were when you were pregnant with Asher. But if it was his baby…he doesn’t think there’s a version of you that could be any more beautiful than that.

But it wasn’t ideal. He didn’t want to have to spend 8-9 months wondering if the child belonged to him or Eddie. He knew he’d get attached to the possibility. And if he did that, only for the baby to be born and be Eddie’s - it would break his heart.

Steve’s mind was still reeling when he pulled up outside the office again. You were leaning against the entrance, jacket pulled tight. As you got closer to the car, Steve could see that it looked like you had been crying.

“What did they say?” Steve asked as soon as you were in the car. He couldn’t wait another second. He needed to know.

You looked into the backseat. Asher had fallen asleep in his car seat, and he looked angelic like that. His little cherub face, chubby cheeks and pouty lips. You loved him more than anything.

Finally, you turned back to Steve. You let out a big breath. “You were right.”

Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest. “I was right?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I…I’m pregnant.”

Steve let out a breathless chuckle at the words. He couldn’t believe it. You really were pregnant. You were really pregnant and it might be his. “Do you know…who…”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears falling, and Steve felt terrible for asking the question. “No. I don’t know.”

It was silent for a minute. Finally Steve spoke up - “Do they know when we’ll be able to know?”

You sniffled. “They said we might know more when we do the ultrasound and see exactly how many weeks I am. But since the…instances were only two-ish weeks apart, we might not be able to tell until they’re born and we can do a DNA test.”

Steve took in the news. He didn’t like it. He wanted this baby to be his, and he wanted to know now. “Do you feel like you know who’s it is?”

“No, Steve. I have no fucking idea. It could be either of yours.” You covered your face with your hands. “Fuck. This is all a disaster.”

Steve began driving back to your house, the ride tense and awkward. He wanted to say something. He wanted to be happy. He’d always wanted to be a dad. He had considered himself one with Asher, but Eddie coming back into your lives only showed how easily that could be taken away.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said finally. “I’m here for you no matter what. I love you and that baby no matter what.”

His words did make you feel a little bit better. You knew they were true. But what if this baby was Eddie’s? Clearly he’d want to be involved. This would only make things more complicated.

Steve parked outside of your apartment building. “Want me to come in with you?”

You smiled softly at him. “You don’t have to. I’m just going to lay Asher down and probably take a nap myself. A lot to process today.”

Steve nodded in understanding. “Well, call me if you need me.”

As you laid in your bed, your mind raced with thoughts of this baby and the potential fathers. If it was Steve’s, things might be easier. He would be happy. He would be a great father, wouldn’t treat Asher any differently than his own child. Maybe you could even try a relationship.

But if it was Eddie’s? What would that mean? Surely he would try to fight you for this child, too. You couldn’t stand the thought of having this baby and immediately having to hand them over half the time.

You were actually terrified.

The next day as you were feeding Asher breakfast, the phone rang. You left him in his high chair to go grab the phone from the wall.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hey. It’s me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, an anxious habit. “Hi, Eddie. What do you want?”

“I…I was just wondering if I could take Asher tomorrow. I want to bring him to the studio and let him meet the guys.”

You thought for a moment. You could be petty and say no, but then you really would be what he was accusing you of. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Eddie.” You felt like rolling your eyes. “Just let me know when you’re picking him up.”

“Around 10 in the morning.”

“Okay.” You played with the phone cord, wondering if you should just go ahead and tell him about the pregnancy. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

A pause. Might as well just say it. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Finally, “Is…is it mine?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you could feel the tears coming on. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“…No.”

Eddie’s mind was spinning now. He could be having another child. A chance to do it right from the beginning this time. But what if it wasn’t his? What if it was Steve’s? The thought made him sick to his stomach.

“When will we know?”

“Maybe at the ultrasound. Maybe not until it’s born.” You let out a long sigh. “This is such a mess, Ed.”

Eddie felt bad for you. But he was also stressing, wanting the baby to be his but terrified it wasn’t. Also a little scared of the idea of having two kids, but he would rather that than you have a baby with Steve.

“I know,” he said. “I’m not gonna lie to you, it is a mess. But you’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped the tears away. “I know. Either way, this baby has a dad who loves them.”

“That is true,” Eddie said. “I just hope it’s mine.”

You laughed a little. “Yeah, both of you do. Someone’s getting their heart broken one way or the other.”

You genuinely felt bad. And you felt like a huge idiot for having unprotected sex with two different guys so close together. Now you had to explain this to your mom.

Surely that could only go well.

As you ended the call and went back to help Ash with his breakfast, you thought about how his life was going to change. A new little brother or sister. It was hard for you to imagine your baby boy as a big brother. You didn’t even know how you were going to explain this to him. How would he understand? Would he adjust okay? Or would he hate having to share your attention?

That was your main fear, how Asher would take this. He was the most important thing in the world to you, and you wanted him to be happy. You knew he would get used to it, but you already felt so guilty.

This was going to change everything.

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[luvyeni]

you hurt him so many times … but he can’t let you go so he’ll let you do whatever just stay with him …

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 박성훈 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ angst. content warning. infidelity, toxic reader, lovesick sunghoon word count. 0.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i didn’t know lilly was the voice in this i liked writing this a little too much…

he looked at the digital clock on the nightstand; 3:30 am , and you’re just now walking through the door.

feel like a fool, you gotta know

you pushed the door open to the bedroom , sunghoon looking at you , hurt all in his eyes. “you told me you’d be home early this time.” he said. “well girls night ran late.” you threw your bag in the chair , takin off your shoes. he sighed , he could smell it — the scent of another man. “you were with him again , weren’t you?”

“what are you talking about sunghoon?” you said your voice was flat. “i can smell cologne , its males cologne.” you rolled your eyes. “didn’t you hug me before i left? it’s probably yours.” but you both know it wasn’t , it wasn’t your first time coming home smelling like this cologne. “I don’t wear that cologne.”

“what do you want to hear from me sunghoon?” you said. “you want me to tell you that i slept with him again?” hearing that broke his heart. “i did , now what? you want to break up? fine let’s break up.” he got up from the bed. “i never said I wanted to break up , but you could try and not sleeping with him,” he said. “you promised to never do that again.”

why, why, why are you always mad, mad, mad at me?

“do you want to argue? you knew the answer the whole time , but you still sit there in self pity asking these questions.” you raised your voice. “you want me to leave? fine.” he shook his head , you did this when you two would get into arguments , you’d manage to make it his fault and he knew that — but he couldn’t help it he loved you too much. “no i don’t want you to leave , please don’t be mad.”

“then stop being like this, i come home to you don’t i ? you’re so annoying sometimes i don’t know why i stay.” you said. “please don’t go.” he said , grabbing your hands. “please im sorry.” his voice cracking as he panicked , afraid you’d leave him , he knew this was toxic , he needed to leave you; get away from you and find someone better — but in his mind , this was better , he’d never want anyone else but you , he just needed to be better and you won’t leave him.

now i say in my sleep, i’ll be good

you watched the man you once cared deeply for — and you still did care for, sit on the bed looking up at you with tears in his eyes , gripping your hand. “please don’t go , i won’t bring it up again , please i won’t start any arguments again.” desperation in his voice. “you say that all the time.” you said. “look , It's up to you if you wanna break up i don't care.” you said so coldly. “do whatever you want, it doesn't matter to me.” you pulled your hand away from him.

“i don’t i promise.” he stood up , wrapping his arms around you , you didn’t reciprocate. “just please don’t leave.” his voice small , his face in your neck , your shoulder wet from his tears. “don’t do it again.” he didn’t care what you did , he could be hurt 1000 more times , he was willing to endure anything and everything you put him through. “i promise.”

as love as you never leave him…

©️LUVYENI

[theambitiouswoman]

Why you lack emotional control & act erratic ( and how to fix it)

You’re not crazy. But if you’ve ever had a moment where you reacted WAY bigger than necessary, spiraled into a meltdown, or regretted something you said five minutes later…emotional control might not be your strong suit.

First off, your brain is not out to sabotage you, I promise. Your emotional outbursts usually come from one (or all) of these

You could have unprocessed emotions that are stacking up. If you keep pushing your feelings down like a stuffed closet, they WILL burst out at the worst time.

You could have high cortisol, which means more anxiety, more overreactions and more "why did i just doo that?!" moments.

If you grew up in chaos your brain defaults to fight or flight mode when you are stressed.

If you don't check in with yourself, your emotions will check in for you. Not in a good way. Please, you guys, these are not normal reactions and I am not saying they are your fault because they are not. But we have to love ourselves enough to uncover the root issue so that we do not continue to do things that hurt us or others.

Emotional control is a skill and you CAN train yourself to be calm, collected, and (mostly) unbothered.

Before you respond to anything emotional, take a deep breath (or five). Give your brain time to shift out of panic mode. Tell yourself how you feel instead of acting out. This will stop you from spiraling. Then you can ask yourself if there is a better way to handle the situation. Maybe you are overreacting. Maybe you misconstrued the situation. There is a reason communication is key. Even more, there is a reason why delivery in communication is more important. If you want to 48 laws of power it, think of it as a strategy and not emotion.

The more you practice calming yourself, the more your brain learns that emotional freak outs aren’t necessary. Your future self will thank you. Your power in every situation lies in emotional control. Like I said earlier this week, emotional control is not about hiding your emotions, it is about managing them.

A lot of people assume they’re in control when they’re actually running on autopilot, reacting instead of responding.

If every small comment or action feels like an attack, your emotions are running the show

If you find yourself exploding over something minor, it’s a sign your nervous system is dysregulated

If your emotions linger for hours (or even days), your body is stuck in stress mode

If you keep reliving arguments, failures, or embarrassing moments, your brain is reinforcing stress patterns

If your mood depends on how others treat you, emotional balance is lacking

You’re not doomed to be at the mercy of your emotions forever. The key is training your brain to respond, not react. The more you practice, the more emotionally balanced (and way less stressed) you’ll feel. You have the power to step back, breathe and handle things in a way that wont blow up in your face or make you regret it tomorrow (or 5 minutes later)

[girlyhornywriter]

You're still worried you're going to regret this?

Come on, pig. It's a little late for that, isn't it? You know there's no going back to how things used to be. Not now, after what you've done to yourself. Don't give me that look, you know this wasn't all my idea.

You just wouldn't stop begging to know about my fantasies... I didn't have any choice but to sate your curiosity and tell you that I liked bigger girls. Girls that jiggle when they walk and get out of breath when they walk up the stairs. You know, fat girls. You were so slim, and I didn't expect that you'd want to satisfy my kinks like that, but you said that you'd maybe gain a little weight for me, just so I could squeeze your belly while we made out. Nothing crazy, just an extra meal here and there. You'd keep it under control.

It's not my fault that your fat ass lost all self-control.

You were just having too much fun, weren't you? You loved feeling my hands caressing your soft, sensitive curves. The way I always slipped a hand under your top to give your gut a squeeze whenever I pulled you in for a kiss must have done more to your poor, horny brain than I could have ever imagined...

Well, of course I noticed what was happening, but did you expect me to say anything? You have no idea how much I loved watching you go back for seconds and thirds every time we went to a buffet. I couldn't get enough of hearing your sheepish voice asking if we had any ice-cream left in the freezer immediately after finishing an extra-large dinner. And maybe I didn't help your waistline by offering to drive you everywhere... But at your size back then, you'd have gotten so worn out and exhausted by having to walk more than a couple of blocks.

Not any more, though. Now you can't even make it to the end of the street.

Oh, you think I'm exaggerating? Babe, you haven't hauled your fat, lazy ass off of that couch in days. If it wasn't for the fact that I keep throwing away all your empty bags of snacks once you've poured them down your greedy throat, I'm pretty sure you'd be buried in them by now. Come on, just try to stand up.

...

Gosh, you really tried there, didn't you? There's no way you'd be panting and sweating like this if you hadn't been putting effort into that. I knew you'd become a fat mess, but I didn't realise it was this bad... You're all blubber and lard now, aren't you? Whatever muscle you had is so lost under layer upon layer of soft, jiggling flab that there's no way you're going to work off all these calories of adipose you've eaten onto your figure.

Well yeah, maybe a diet would work, but I'm not going to let you go on one, piglet.

Why? Because I've got you right where I've always wanted you, princess. You're too fat to move and too well-trained as a mindless, gluttonous cow to undo the damage you've done. I might not have made you gain all this weight, but I'm not about to see it melt away either. I love the way it feels too much, the way you jiggle with every movement, the way it pins you to the couch and only grows softer and heavier every time I feed you.

If I were you, piglet, I'd get used to this. Learn to enjoy it, because I certainly will... Maybe if you're a good girl for me, I'll find you some clothes that actually fit over your immense bulk. Though anything I find isn't going to fit you for very long - You're so big and obese, piggy, but you've still got a long way to go...

[this-user-is-new]

"proceeds to complain that i want the show to engage with the long-term consequences of piltover’s actions." how is that spoon-feeding? i mean yeah, imagine expecting a show that presents itself as a mature, political narrative to actually follow through on the themes it sets up. wild concept.

oh, and "gassy"? wtf? whatever. let’s entertain this "fantasy gas" idea for a second.

there’s literally no reason to assume it behaves any differently from real-world toxic gases. arcane itself establishes that the gas behaves like a real toxic substance when it comes to how it destroys the body (kiramman archives). so why would it suddenly not behave like real gas when it comes to spreading? you can’t have it both ways. either the show deliberately left out consequences for narrative convenience, or this is straight-up inconsistent writing. i’ll let you pick one. but i won’t waste time on this again since you’ve already decided the laws of chemistry just don’t apply here anyway.

also, we know children work in the factories of the chem-barons. why do you think isha and other kids were running from the chem-barons' goons? what did they want from them, huh? meaning, yes, kids would have been exposed to the gas at some point. (... even if they weren't there at the moment.) because that's literally where the gas was used. but again, that'd mean you actually understand how gas works so ... yeah. i'm not talking about this again.

and no one’s saying caitlyn and her team intentionally targeted children, the issue is that the show erases unintended consequences, making piltover’s actions seem cleaner than they realistically would be. learn how to fucking read. also, funny how you keep bringing this whole thing back to caitlyn specifically, like this is just some personal attack on your fave instead of a broader critique of how arcane rewrites piltover’s crimes to be more palatable. but do you actually like her? because if anything, this also makes her villain arc boring as hell. you should want to see the consequences of her actions.

"they never erased piltover’s guilt." lmao. really? so viktor’s suffering getting reframed as a personal failure instead of systemic neglect isn’t erasure? orianna’s story being stripped of its direct critique of piltover’s pollution isn’t erasure? the show giving just enough plausible deniability for fans like you to defend piltover’s actions isn’t erasure? be serious.

your focus on viktor’s leg is just a lazy attempt to reframe his struggle. his arc was never just about mobility, it was about survival. we literally see him suffering from chronic illness: fatigue, nosebleeds, coughing fits, and even slipping into a coma. he wasn’t just looking for a "fix" out of some internalized ableism, he was dying because piltover let zaunites rot. the "beauty in imperfection" framing is a deliberate rewrite that removes piltover’s guilt. it’s not just a misinterpretation of viktor’s motivations, it’s a calculated shift to make it seem like he should’ve just accepted his fate instead of demanding more from a system that abandoned him.

"singed’s daughter wasn’t dead, she was dying." you missed the point. orianna was a direct victim of piltover’s pollution. arcane stripped that context away so piltover wouldn’t be at fault. and you’re fine with that because it lets you pretend it wasn’t deliberate.

this isn’t just about individual changes, it’s a pattern. i was asking you about that.

"the seeds were there, you’re just a bad gardener." nah, the writers just ripped the roots out. so yeah, i’ll keep pointing out how arcane carefully sidesteps piltover’s worst atrocities while you keep pretending that’s nuance instead of narrative sanitization. keep dancing around my points, though. anyway, i’m not wasting my time responding again if you’re just going to misrepresent what i’m saying over and over.

has anyone else noticed that the writers were absolutely reluctant to fully commit to the darker implications of piltover's actions? like the gas attack on zaun? but tbh the writers' self-sabotaging of arcane's potential as social commentary is not what's really frustrating, it's that it's not just a missed opportunity, it’s a deliberate avoidance. the writers couldn't make piltover that bad, at least not through the characters we have to follow.

with the gas attack, what we get are scattered hints: a single man coughing, kids praying to janna in a song (in a way that’s super easy to miss), and worship of a painting of janna. but the show never fully depicts the suffering caused by the gas. it never commits to the atrocity and by refusing to depict the actual impact, the show softens piltover’s culpability and allows a big part of the audience to either overlook or justify it.

but the gas attack aside, the writers had two opportunities to make an explicit statement about systemic oppression, environmental racism, and the true cost of unchecked industrial power but they avoided doing so. and those two clearest instances of this avoidance are in how the show handles viktor and orianna:

in season 2, viktor’s story is literally warped to avoid blaming piltover. viktor, a character who should represent the suffering zaunites endure because of piltover’s neglect, is instead pushed into the role of an irredeemable villain for a marvelesque shit show. his transformation discards his humanity so blatantly that the audience is distracted from the actual injustice: he was dying because of piltover.

his ending is framed around jayce’s “beauty in imperfection” speech as if he should have just accepted his disability rather than seeking a cure, when the reality is, he wasn’t just disabled, he was dying because of the system piltover built. that was his entire struggle in season 1, but by season 2’s end, the narrative no longer engages with it to protect piltover.

as for orianna, she is reduced to an easter egg as a gift to league of legends fans (which is funny because the show ruined her lore for them), but more importantly, to avoid critiquing piltover.

her lore was an explicit condemnation of piltover’s disregard for zaunite lives. she was a little girl who helped zaunites, got sick due to piltover’s pollution, and had to slowly replace her own body with machinery until she lost all humanity. but arcane erases this. she’s barely a cameo, and the audience isn’t even told how she died. the show doesn’t just sideline her suffering, it removes it entirely, sanitizing piltover’s guilt in the process.

more importantly, all of this lets a big part of the audience defend piltover. for instance, by never showing the gas’s impact, the show gives certain viewers the option to ignore it: no bodies, no long-term sickness, no undeniable, inescapable horror. and i'm sure we've all seen how this allows for interpretations that justify piltover’s actions in the fandom, whether that means erasing the gas attack’s consequences or framing it as acceptable because the victims are zaunites (who are often conveniently portrayed as violent criminals).

also, ekko’s line about rescuing more people because of gang fighting is a perfect example of how the show subtly misdirects the audience. yes, gang violence is an issue, but it’s not the only crisis. the gas remains, it spreads, it poisons the people, especially the children working in factories. those are also people the firelights must have rescued. but the show chooses to highlight one crisis over another, and we know why ...

anyway, it's sad that the writers had no balls. they let so many people feel comfortable not thinking too hard about piltover’s crimes, and comfortable enough to insult anyone who criticizes characters participating in those crimes, especially caitlyn and her squad.