#make peace with yourself and who you are now. not who you want to be or a hypothetical version of yourself

[tousey-mousey]

To be clear, I'm about to disagree with this post, but I also do not want to trigger anyone including OP who may be working through some shit. Please do not read below the cut if that would upset you or if right now you're just working through some shit and need to express yourself.

The emotional timbre of your post is valid, even if I wanna disagree with some points. You are allowed to feel hurt, to feel ignored, or to feel isolated. You are allowed to feel pain. I hope that working through that brings you peace.

It is so fucking sinister that the only form of child abuse that society really cares about is sexual in nature.

So. I understand your point? But I simply do not agree. Society recognises an enormous number of things as child abuse that do not, at all, include sexual abuse. However, sexual abuse is unique because it can never FAIL to be abusive. There is no amount of sexualising or sexual contact with a child that can be seen as acceptable by the overwhelming majority of our society. This means that, unlike the other ways that society recognises children can be abused, nobody can raise even a shadow of a doubt that a parent having sexual contact with their child is not abusive. It is ALWAYS abusive.

On the other hand... restricting a child's choices of foods, for example, can be non-abusive. If a 10-year-old wants to drink wine with daddy, then that kid's dad is considered to be abusive if he DOES NOT restrict that choice.

Restricting clothing choices can be the less abusive of two option: if a boy wants to go to school wearing shorts and T-shirt and won't take no for an answer even though it's snowing outside, his parents would be considered neglectful for NOT restricting that choice.

A 9-year-old girl who wants to take up gymnastics needs to be carefully monitored, and both her parents and her coach could be considered neglectful or abusive for driving her too hard when it could and sometimes does permanently damage bone structure. Australia has recently had a massive scandal over the Australian Institute of Sport (AIS) being alleged to have covered up cases of parents and coaches allowing children to make dangerous choices, or even encouraging or forcing children to make dangerous choices, regarding gymnastics. While sexual assault allegations are in there, the majority of the scandal is around parents and coaches who were physically and, importantly, emotionally abusing their children with respect to gymnastics at a young age, knowing that it would harm the children but allowing or encouraging it anyway. This is going to result in and has ALREADY resulted in criminal charges and even convictions for abuse. It is taken seriously.

Children can make bad choices in all sorts of ways. A parent is given wide latitude to control things like whether a child goes to a specific church in part because of organisations like the Jehovah's Witnesses, who a few years ago were sued for predatory conduct regarding children at a children's hospital here. They were banned from the hospital grounds or from being within line-of-sight of the hospital while preaching, and part of the issue was that they were predating children and using them to try to wedge their way into families at a young age during a time of strife and fear. Similarly, when a parent DOES go too far the other way, at least here in Australia the courts DO recognise that as abusive. Again using the Witnesses as an example, a Witness family took the government to court because a hospital wanted to force a blood transfusion on a 17-year-old boy with leukaemia and both he and the parents refused. The courts found that the boy had, essentially, been abused into his faith by his parents and that it wasn't a free and fair choice, so he was forced to get the transfusion until he turned 18 at which point he could make the call himself again - by which time, notably, he would be most likely cured. The family were found by the court to have been, basically, abusive, and their rights were removed as a result.

The problem is that kids are fucking idiots. That's by design: they're born knowing nothing and need to be taught everything. They have no understanding of how to make good choices and everything they are and have needs to be given to them over time. However, they do not learn it instantly: it is a process, and one that takes multiple decades to really get good at doing. Children are, therefore, going to attempt to make choices long before they are able to make GOOD choices, and so their carers NEED to be able to control those choices and deny them certain choices in order to keep them safe from themselves.

Kids will see a person claim to make caramel in the microwave by putting sugar and water in a bowl and leaving it on high for 15 minutes. This will, without a doubt, end badly. However, the child does not know that. They do not have the ABILITY to know that. Their parent NEEDS to be able to keep them safe from that.

However, in the process, they are restricting their child's free action, their child's food, their child's behaviours and movements, and may need to punish a child who repeatedly refuses to understand WHY they're being restricted and keeps trying to do it anyway. All those things that you see as abusive are, in this case, VITALLY important to keeping that kid alive and unburnt.

Unfortunately, the ways in which children can be incalculably stupid are similarly incalculable. As a result, parents need very wide latitude to control their children's behaviours and so the wiggle room needed to keep a kid safe is also enough to allow bad parents to abuse children. This does not mean abuse is "built into the system". It just means that there is no good system that can be designed that doesn't make abuse possible. It is not intentional and it is not "built in" - there's just no way to safely "build it out".

It is so fucking sinister that the only form of child abuse that society really cares about is sexual in nature. parents are free to control everything about their child's movement, presentation, eating, faith traditions, information exposure, socialization, and can restrict all of these things to an extreme degree as a form of punishment or in order to shape the child into whatever they want that child to be. and that's all considered completely normal, the parent's right! people don't even see the fact that a parent has the power to control so much about a child's life for damn near 20 years to be a problem. The only time they become concerned about child abuse is when the prospect of an outside stranger behaving in a sexual way toward a child is raised. and yeah a lot of really horrific sexual abuses are enacted unto children, but that's because they have zero control over their own lives and bodies in any other way as well. It is all about power and control. and typically the ones who are abusing children the most frequently are the ones who have the most control over them, the parents.

[iluvstarkey]

My Brothers Best Friend

AN: This is my first post on this account, I'm kinda just playing around with my writing and seeing how many people enjoy my writing style so this isn't a super long one just a couple hundred words but I still hope you enjoy it <3. (I want to make a Thorton reader on my account so let me know if you would read that).

Rafe Cameron x Thorton Reader

Summary: Rafe starts to be all flirty with the reader after years of being ignored by him.

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Your hands cramp up as you type out the remaining paragraph of your history paper. You can feel the headache coming on from the cheers and screaming of the TV downstairs. “Topper can you turn that down?” You yell at him over the noise only to hear him turn up the tv even louder.

 You groan as you push yourself off of the chair and walk down towards the living room. “Topper please turn that down I have a history paper due tomorrow and I can’t get anything done with all the” Your words trail off as you see Topper's best friend Rafe next to him on the couch. 

You’ve always had a thing for Topper’s best friend, Rafe Cameron. He was known as the “kook king.” All over Kildare Island. Rafe was notorious for partying, breaking girl's hearts, and being the biggest dickhead on the island, yet, that is what made him all the more appealing. 

“Y/n can you go away we are in the middle of a game.” Topper's voice cuts through the commentary of the football game. “Please turn it down I have a history paper that is due tomorrow morning and I can’t get anything done.” You rant to Topper although you are sure he isn’t even listening.

“Just close your door.” This time it was Rafe who spoke up. “Or you guys could just turn down the TV.” You rebuttal back. Rafe takes his gaze off of the TV and you're sure he looked you up and down. “Please?” Rafe then groans but grabs the remote anyway turning down the volume. “Is the princess happy now?” Rafe rolls his eyes at you. Then puts his focus back onto the TV. “Yes thank you, Rafe.” You smile up at him then walk back up to your room to finish your history assignment.

After the next hour of peace, you walk downstairs to get a glass of water before bed. You were scrolling on your phone and didn’t notice that someone was in the kitchen into you bumped right into their chest. “Woah princess watch where you’re going.” Rafe teases you as you glance up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry Rafe.” You looked up at him with wide eyes a bit nervous of just him and you. “Mmm just watch out next time.” Rafe smirks up at you grazing past going up to toppers room.

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[calebsdog]

Stepping inside Caleb's place in Shyhaven for the first time you are struck with how empty everything is. It was so barren that you were half convinced the place was haunted. Anyone who made it past the entryway would be able to see the lack of love decorating his bleak walls.

You were Caleb's home. Anywhere else was a prison. There was no reason to maintain this place if you weren't there. The same way he doesn't tend to his cracked, bleeding lips when you're not around. The same way he doesn't bother to season the meals he cooks if you're not sitting across the table ready to dig into your portion.

At first, you relish in the lack of life filling his home. Let him feel the same emptiness you had felt when you believed he was dead. His place should feel as cold and lifeless as the grave you thought he had been residing in.

Unfortunately, you don't celebrate his pain for long. Just looking at the dusty shelves of his home was enough to make you feel nauseous now.

You feel like a silly kid again when you turn up to Caleb's place one day with a small, cutesy stuffed toy in your hands.

"Here." You shove the innocent plush toy into Caleb's firm chest. You always accidentally became rough whenever you felt embarrassed about something. Caleb was more familiar with that habit than most.

"I thought your place could use some company." It's a stupid explanation. Just like it was a stupid idea when you first picked the fuzzy toy off of the store shelf.

You hadn't put much thought into why you wanted to give it to Caleb. All you knew was that it hurt to walk into room after room of Caleb's home and find each one as empty as the last. And you were so, so tired of hurting. Adding a touch of color to Caleb's life would give you peace of mind as much as it would him.

Caleb studies the small stuffed creature with a weight you hadn't anticipated. The colonel cradles the gift you hadn't thought through the same way he held the necklace you gave him what feels like lifetimes ago.

"Hm." With a grin Caleb holds the plushie in one hand while the other reaches out. Petting the top of your head, careful not to ruffle your hair in a way that would piss you off.

"Thanks for trusting me with this little guy, pipsqueak. Promise I'll take good care of him." And 𝘰𝘩, how could you not trust that boyish, beloved smile? The smile that stretches his cheeks, that makes him look like the Caleb you had loved and lost and mourned.

You trusted Caleb with your heart once upon a time. And had to watch in horror as the boy you trusted the most trampled all over the sensitive organ. And you wanted to hand him the shattered pieces so he could do it all over again.

"Good," you whisper, stepping away from him. If you look into those violet eyes of his, the color of an endless universe, of bright explosive galaxies, you might forget yourself.

"I can't promise I won't hurt you if you don't."

You show up with a new stuffed toy every time you visit Skyhaven now. You shove it into Caleb's warm chest, watch him study the new inanimate member of his home, before he reaches for you with a smile to pet your scalp.

A mound of plushies grows at the end of Caleb's bed. All neatly organized, beady eyes facing the pillow Caleb rests his head on whenever sleep finds him. Their fur brushed so immaculately they look better kept than when they were bought.

[slippinmickeys]

Funfetti prompt: how did Mulder propose? My sincere apologies to whoever asked for this prompt. I wrote down the prompt, but neglected to write down the name of who asked for it and it's been a couple of weeks now. Please call yourself out in the tags or in the comments on AO3 and I'll rectify my mistake!

He is buried in the cradle of her hips, a briny haven, deep as the Vineyard Sound; a place he has only been a handful of times. 

Scully, nine weeks out from a natural birth in a dusty day bed in Georgia, makes a groaning, satisfied sound, her thumb hooked into his cheek. He crimps her knuckle delicately with his teeth, feels a surge of affection for his partner. Tenderness. It is an echo of what he feels for his son, sleeping several feet away, his mother’s cupid bow lips in a soft, round face. 

“Marry me,” he says into the flesh of her chest, swaying and heavy with milk. 

The copper cap of her hair is draped over one eye, and the other pins him briefly. 

“What?” she says breathily. “No.”

They haven’t really discussed this, though he’s tried to bring it up. His paternal leave was up a week ago and he’s come to her apartment every night after work like Ward Cleaver, tie loosened, Scully in the kitchen or nursing on the bed. He sits and takes off his penny loafers and asks to hold his warm son in the crook of his arm and wonders how life has deposited him here; a ticking stripe chair, a new nine-to-five Bureau gig, a contentment he has never before felt, never chased. 

“Marry me,” he says again, more earnest this time, and he feels her thighs tense where she’s straddling his lap.

“Are you always this talkative in bed?” she asks, lifting herself up only to sink back down. 

He is still learning her body, and she is relearning this new version of it, twisting her hips in a way that makes them both groan. Their first time sleeping together again after William was born was shy and tentative, Mulder afraid he’d hurt her and Scully half dazed with remembered sadness and longing. 

“I don’t remember,” he husks. 

“Me neither,” she says on a sigh. 

Her orgasm comes on quickly and she seems surprised by it, her mouth rounding into a little O that has him finishing not far behind her, sinking back into the pillow in relief. She climbs off of him half a minute later and pulls the sheet up and over her shoulder. 

Mulder rises and removes the condom he wore on the advice of her OB-GYN, and comes back to the bed, stopping to look into the bassinet before sliding in beside her. 

“Were you serious?” she asks, her voice small. 

His pillow smells sweetly of breast milk, and he finds an errant burp cloth rolled under the corner of it, which he tosses gently onto the bedside table.

“I was,” he says, turning back to her, surprised to find it's the truth. 

“Are you asking out of some sense of responsibility or…” 

She’s looking at him like she’s trying to figure him out, reconciling the man who had been her partner with the man currently laying beside her. 

It has been hard-fought–reconciling those things himself–won out with one look at his newborn son after several months of not knowing where he fit in, who he was anymore. He now only feels a rightness, a sense of peace. And it’s only by Scully’s side, by William’s, from which that rightness flows. 

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of it,” he says. 

Scully looks at him with a look he’s come to recognize as hope. “What’s the other part?”

“I’m irredeemably in love with the both of you,” his voice cracks. “And I want to bind you to me in every way I possibly can.”

She turns her head so her cheek is resting on her hand.

“The way you bound yourself to Diana?”

The comment stings, but not sharply. She has a point. 

“Diana wanted me under her thumb. Marrying me was an act of control, not devotion.”

“How come you never told me?” 

“I was embarrassed. There’s a reason I asked for an annulment rather than a divorce.”

Mulder thought of the ring, which he’d thrown in the Potomac. It had been made of gold. A soft metal, malleable. Easily bent. If Scully agreed to marry him, he was doing it with platinum. Titanium. Steel. 

“And you’d rather have a family than the Truth?” Above the constellation of her freckles, her eyes burn with the blue of a driftwood flame. 

“I think they’re one in the same,” he says honestly. Fuck everything else, he thinks. He wants them both knit to him like Pan’s shadow.

Her flower petal lips creep up into a smile. 

“Is that a yes?” he smiles back. 

“It’s not a no,” she purrs, and a lightness zips through him. From the bassinet, his son awakens with a happy babble. 

He’s going to get her the most obnoxious ring he can find. It’ll catch on sweaters and in the craw of Kersh’s secretary. It’ll make Tara blanch and her mother smile. She’ll only pretend to hate it. 

He’s going to marry her. 

[ectospacecadet]

Just wanted to add to this.

So Danny’s just gone through all of the events of AGIT, right? He went through struggling to work through his powers slowly becoming diminished and was getting a bit of imposter syndrome/depressed(?) over it.

He finds the source of a Ghost’s power and uses that knowledge to give himself a whole new purpose and is probably the most at peace with himself he’s been in the past couple of years, to the point where he has a new firework ectoblast power thing.

So he’s gone through all of the lows and highs in this novel, yeah? Then once Clockwork is saved from the fusion between him and Phantom (Dark Danny) he says this.

It feels more like a ‘have a gold star’ comment than an actual thank you, that and Clockwork sees all the different paths of the time stream.

So after all of that he pulls Team Phantom out of the timestream to see the damage caused by the events.

Now, first of all, let’s just look at what Clockwork says here, not all of the other timelines were compressed, but the ones that were the most corrupted were compressed into two stable timelines, so that was just a casual multiversal/AU genocide he pulled. That also technically means Danny’s original timeline parents are now gone/erased and are going to be replaced by whatever the new timestream manages to make for him.

Let’s look at the generous options Clockwork offers to Danny shall we? :3

Door 1: Everything goes back to normal and you have no powers. So all of this personal growth you’ve gone on and the life’s purpose you’ve given yourself will be made void.

Door 2: Everything goes back to normal, but you’ll have your powers and secret identity back. Also you wont receive any acclaim to the events of [REDACTED].

So option A: I fix it all and you don’t get to be the hero you currently know you want to be, who knows what’ll become of ghosts and humans?Option B: I fix it all but you go back to secrecy and have your powers, also you can fulfil your ‘self-given’ role.

Idk guys, which would you choose after going through EVERYTHING? The shiny turd or the pile of gold? XD

Clockwork SO wants whatever outcome to happen happen.

Danny: I’m gonna declare my new life’s purpose!

Clockwork: 😏

Dude you SO wanted all of this to happen.

Even this piece by @pichikui show’s Clockwork towering over the 3 here, Clockwork’s pulling some strings my guys. There’s no way he would lose that easily to Phantom, he had every way to stop him from fusing with his ghost form.

[mizusbabygirl]

double double ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

player 380 (se-mi) x fem reader AND guard 011 (kang no-eul) x fem reader ────୨ৎ──── cw: no-eul and se-mi both have a g!p (girl penis), threesome, creampie, unprotected sex, blowjob, masturbation, sexting??, some fluff bc why not

i’m incredibly sorry for not posting a lot anymore. i’ve just been really busy lately but i’ll still take requests because yes, i need more ideas 🙏🙏.

you dip your fingers deep inside your vagina, your fingers trace around your wetness, the pink flesh inside your pussy. soft moans escape from your mouth as you struggle to reach over to grab your phone with your unoccupied hand to record yourself fingering and playing with your pussy and send it to the girl who you’ve been crushing on since high school.

this love interest of yours has also had feelings for you but you two have never dated since your former classmates didn’t like the idea of same-sex relationships.

but now that you’ve graduated and you finally feel confident enough to do whatever the fuck you wanted, you finally found the chance to have contact with that girl again.

se-mi was her name, wasn’t it?

you thought to yourself as you tapped on the record button on your phone and continued pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy. you made a few fake moans to make it seem more lewd than it already was. you found yourself spreading your folds with your fingers, playing around with your clit and teasing yourself until you eventually came.

what if she forgot about me and found someone else?

you thought again as you saved the video into your camera and tossed your phone aside as you made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

she couldn’t possibly… she basically promised that she would give me the world back then.

you went back to your room and picked up your phone, starring at the “who’s this” message from her. you let out a big sigh and started typing away, explaining who you were, hoping she hasn’t forgotten about you.

“se-mi, you seriously don’t remember me?”

read

your head falls back against the couch’s backrest, feeling your phone drop out of your hands. your eyes become teary realizing that se-mi didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

2 months later

it was the day before valentine’s day and you were in your room snacking on chocolate bars and scrolling through instagram, seeing all your friends post their partners. you felt happy for them but you were tired of being single and alone. suddenly, you see a notification and to your surprise, it was se-mi.

a smile grew on your face as you immediately opened her message.

“hey, let’s talk”

seeing that message made you giggle, you finally thought the universe granted your wish and that you were finally going to be happy.

just as you were typing, an incoming call popped up on your screen.

it was her.

as you were calling with her, your brain flooded with memories that you shared with her back in high school. you felt like you were finally at peace for once. you felt like you finally have gotten what you’ve wanted.

after the call, you both agreed to go on a date at a local restaurant the next day for valentine’s day.

“my pretty girl, i’m sorry i haven’t answered you for so long, nonetheless, i’m also sorry i never even tried getting in contact with you again after we graduated,” se-mi said as she held your hand tightly as the two of you walked out of the restaurant.

you stopped and watched her reach for something in her bag, she pulls out a letter along with a small gift box.

“it might not be much, but this sure is given to you by me with lots of love. happy valentine’s day,” se-mi said as she handed the gift and the letter.

you held the small box in your hands. curiously, you open the box carefully and find a small pink beaded bracelet. it was the bracelet she wanted to give you back in high school.

“se-mi, how did you manage to keep it for all these years? you really haven’t forgotten about me haven’t you?” you smiled.

“no. in fact, i’ve always dreamed about the day we could finally start dating and perhaps start a future together soon,” se-mi said and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

you starred into her deep dark brown eyes, her gaze looking soft and full of love that made you want to pull her into a kiss.

you missed the feeling of her soft lips meeting yours, her tongue entering your mouth, her taste, her soft whines. but here you are, experiencing that all over again.

you found yourself under her, her body pressed against yours, on top of you on your bed. both of you felt hungry for each other and the fabric of your clothes began to feel uncomfortable as if you were urging to take them off to feel her bare skin against yours.

“baby, before i take my clothes off,” she hesitated as she broke the hot make out session between the two of you, “i want to share a secret of mine to you”. se-mi rolls off the bed and unbuckles her belt. you tilt your head, you curiously wonder what type of secret she was hiding from you.

just as you began unbuttoning your shirt, she unzips her pants and pulls them down, revealing her grey boxers.

“you wearing boxers is your biggest secret?” you giggled but your smile eventually faded away as soon as you saw a bulge. your eyes widened as she pulled them down.

she has a dick..? it definitely looks real but it looks bigger than average…

you felt your pussy getting wet at the sight of her dick becoming hardened. so you immediately undress yourself, leaving yourself only wearing a pair of pink panties that will soon be torn apart by the hands of se-mi.

“se-mi…” you whined as her tip teased your clothed pussy. “you know.. it would’ve been funny if i told you about this back then so that way i could be pounding your pussy all day everyday in the school bathrooms,” se-mi giggled as she spread your thighs.

“oh baby..!” you moan out loudly as se-mi reaches over and rips open your panties, revealing your tight pussy covered in its own juices. you lick your lips at the feeling of her hard member about to enter your tight pussy.

se-mi rubs her tip around your slick, making you whine and feel frustrated since she kept edging you.

oh but how much she loves watching you whine and get all fuzzy when she teases you…

just before you could stick it in yourself, you feel her push her dick inside you, causing you to scream. “oh fuck.. never knew it was that fucking huge!” you let out a loud moan as she started thrusting inside of your baby maker slowly, but hard.

you could see the satisfaction se-mi had on her face and she looked fucking proud having her new girlfriend act like a slut for her dick. she watched you crave for it, savour it, watched your pussy devour it whole.

“you know,” she spoke up, her voice sounding quite raspy, “there was this girl that went to the same school as us and she also had a dick like me”. her thrusts accelerated but her main goal was to beat your cervix deep and hard, no matter the pace.

“her name?” you spoke in between moans. “kang.. hmm i don’t remember…” se-mi answered, her thrusts creating wet slapping sounds that mixed perfectly with her moans and yours.

“well for now.. it doesn’t matter, doll,” se-mi’s voice became gentle as she was about to cum. “oh fuck!” se-mi yelled out as she gave you a creampie, her hot cum filling up your womb.

you squirm around the bed feeling her hot load mixing around in your womb. “se-mi..” you moan, her body collapsing on top of yours. “her name was kang no-eul,” se-mi whispered into your ear.

2 months later, you and se-mi were constantly getting into arguments, meaning your relationship with her wasn’t working out how you wanted it to. but what she doesn’t know was that you recently started talking with no-eul.

yeah, you’re an asshole for that…

but are you really one? besides, se-mi wasn’t fulfilling any of your needs, not even the bare minimum. so what does she expect? does she expect you to still stay with her even though your relationship with her is in the ruins?

you don’t remember much about no-eul. all you remember from her is how she used to get in trouble at school a lot and how she constantly dated many girls at once. you never liked no-eul since you thought she was a jerk and an asshole. but you came to think about how she could probably have matured by now and how she could probably be better than se-mi.

the air felt warm, the flowers outside went from being small buds to beautiful colourful flowers with petals of all shapes and sizes. it was may and you recently have broken up with se-mi since you found no-eul now, and you realized how much better she is than se-mi.

you and no-eul weren’t dating yet but today the two of you decided to go to the mall as a small date. no-eul had a thing for constantly touching your thighs, hugging you, caressing you, even in public. you never minded it though, in fact, you loved it.

as the day was ending, no-eul had to go home but you didn’t have a lift so you went in her car. the ride home wasn’t awkward at all since the two of you were listening to songs on the radio that the both of you enjoyed.

“don’t you want to stay at my house for the night instead?” no-eul suggested as she parked outside of your home. you shaked her head, rejecting her offer since you weren’t comfortable enough yet. but as a way to build comfortability with her, you leaned in and gave her a peck on her cheek. “i’ll see you later, i promise,” you said as you gave her another kiss on her cheek and then you got off the vehicle.

that night, your feelings for her began to grow and so they did as the week went by.

“fucking brat,” no-eul grunted as she pushed your head against the bathroom stall the two of you were having sex in. your back was arched and you were bent over, taking her dick inside you. she pumped her dick in and out of your pussy and asshole.

she was so fucking advanced at this…

anyone who entered the bathroom could hear the moans and fast slapping sounds coming from the stall the two of you were in.

“fucking tempting me all day with you wearing a skirt and you only wore a pair of panties with a hole in them underneath, fucking pervert,” no-eul said as she put her finger inside your mouth as she kept thrusting inside your pussy. “don’t pull out,” you spoke up, your saliva coating her fingers as she put another one in. “you want me to breed you?” she asked using a sarcastic tone. you nodded. “you seriously want my cum dripping out of your pussy in front of everyone? have fucking morals,” she asked again, thrusting in slowly but hard, clearly giving signs that she was about to bust a nut inside of you.

“oh but how could i ever want to pull out? your gummy cervix feels so stretchy and warm,” she giggled as small spurts of her seed spurted inside of you. she gave her last thrust and pushed her dick inside of you, as deep as possible as her cum filled your cunt. it didn’t have much difference to se-mi’s cum. but you could tell se-mi’s was much more watery and no-eul’s was thick and sticky.

she pulled out, a string of her cum connected between her tip and your pussy. you turned around and adjusted your skirt and put your panties back on quick, not having enough time to wipe off her cum from your thighs and pussy.

“let’s go to my house at this point.. you’re going to feel uncomfortable all day if you walk around like this,” she said, giving you a kiss on your lips.

just as soon as you entered her home and she shut the door behind y’all, she unzipped her pants, bent you over, lifted your skirt, pulled down your panties and began fucking you relentlessly again. “take off your clothes please, oh fuck, i want to see your tits and everything,” no-eul said, her voice reeking with lust.

she threw you onto a nearby couch, you quickly took off your skirt and unhooked your bra, and took off the rest of your clothes.

she threw herself onto you, her tits pressing against yours, she gave you sloppy wet kisses on your lips. her nipples became hardened and turned into a bright pink color as she entered you again. this time, it slipped inside of you perfectly since her dick was covered in her own pre-cum and your pussy had her left over cum still dripping out of you. “you’re so hot, mommy,” you whimpered as she threw your leg over her shoulder and felt her jack hammering inside of you, beads of sweat coating her forehead. “mommy, eh?” she giggled, clearly feeling aroused by the pet name you gave her.

“come on baby, i want you on your hands and knees now, and don’t forget to arch that back,” she ordered as she randomly pulled out and saw you follow her order. instead, the upper part of your body laid on the couch making it better for you to arch your back as much as possible.

she slipped it in again, she gave your ass a sharp slap. her hands gripped onto your sides, thrusting in deep and fast.

“your ex.. se-mi.. wants to see you again,”

later that evening

you were laying next to no-eul, cuddling with her until you heard your phone ringing. you reach over to pick it up and took a look at the phone number that was calling.

it was se-mi.

“no-eul, you were right!”

“pick it up then, let’s see what she has to say,”

you answer the phone, and hear se-mi’s voice. you haven’t heard her voice since the day you broke up with her.

“i’m outside of no-eul’s but you can tell me to leave,”

“no, no, it’s fine—i’ll go unlock the door for you,”

“great, thanks,”

“before you hang up, why’re you wanting to see me again?”

“we’ll talk about it when you let me in,”

you hung up the call then turned to look at no-eul, who was listening to the entire conversation. “i’m not stopping you,” no-eul said. “but she’s my ex—aren’t you worried she might want to get back with me,” you added.

“and is that my problem? besides, you know who’s better,” she said then reached over to caress your cheek. you sighed, “fine”.

you opened the door and saw se-mi standing in the doorway. before you could at least say hi to her, she walked right past you and went directly towards no-eul.

could it be that no-eul asked se-mi to come over?

“slow down! fuck!” you yelled out as se-mi bounced you up and down onto no-eul’s dick.

here you are, having a fucking threesome with your ex and your current girlfriend.

“your pussy really loosened up after getting with no-eul, didn’t it?” se-mi giggled, her hands lifted your body up and down onto no-eul faster and faster until you couldn’t take it anymore. “too bad you can’t see how pretty she looks right now, bouncing up and down on you, no-eul,” she teased.

no-eul scoffed, rolled her eyes and said, “and too bad you couldn’t be a good girlfriend for her so she had to run to me.”

se-mi furrowed her eyebrows and stopped what she was doing. you got off of no-eul’s lap then watched se-mi push you onto the bed. you laid on your stomach and felt se-mi grip onto your hips and pulled you towards her. “se-mi.. i missed you,” you uttered. se-mi, with a smirk on her face, began to fuck your pussy from behind relentlessly. she didn’t care about starting off slow or gentle, she went fast and rough, her tip hitting the end of your cervix with each pound.

“no-eul, don’t you want to join?” you asked. no-eul got in front of you, pulling your hair, making your head lift up to look at her. “of course i do,” she said. “open your mouth, baby,” no-eul ordered as you opened your mouth slightly.

“good girl,”

no-eul slipped her dick inside of your mouth while se-mi continued pounding you from behind.

this would make a great porno, wouldn’t it? the title for it could be double double.

too bad no-eul was actually fucking other girls whilst the two of you were dating. she never matured.

se-mi was really the one for you. afterall, despite the ups and downs, she always stayed loyal and she knew your heart only belonged to her.

[back2bluesidex]

Dark Paradise - KTH

💌 BTS as Lana Del Rey songs 💌

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Theme: EXTREME ANGST!!!!

Word count: 869

Summary:

"Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise No one compares to you But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight" 

Warnings: AGAIN, EXTREME ANGST (in all caps as you can see)

A/N: Sorry :')

“All my friends tell me I should move on I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song”

“Taehyung! No! Don’t-” you scream, but to no avail. He doesn’t pay attention to any plea you make, any word you utter, any move you initiate - he dances in the rhythm of his own heartbeat, splashes vibrant colors everywhere - the walls, the canvas, you… you, you. 

The soothing sound of his giggles fills your ears, the air, the sunlight coming through the wide French windows. For a moment you feel like you can see the particles of the sound, floating in the air like specks of dust. 

He splashes the blood red paint on you this time - you start laughing with him.

Taehyung stands barefoot, wearing loose clothes that make him look so light as if he can start flying anytime he wants. 

You wish you could fly too. 

He comes to stand before you slowly, soundlessly - his palms sit on your cheeks paining your skin red. 

You look up at him. His eyes shine with mirth. 

A chill runs down your spine. 

The paint smells oddly metallic - like blood. 

It is not paint. It is blood. You realize belatedly. 

“Taehyung. Taehyung..” you hoist your hand but he takes a step back, “taehyung, don’t go” your voice trembles, vision blurs with tears. 

Taehyung keeps walking backward with a cryptic smile on his face. And then he vanishes in the sunlight. 

“Y/N, you okay?” another hand touches your shoulder. You startle - the scenery surrounding you changes in a heartbeat. 

As tears roll down your cheeks, you realize - Taehyung’s studio is squeaky clean, the French windows are shut tight, as if there was no artist called Kim Taehyung who made this boring white space into a colourful workspace. 

“I- yeah” your tears have not ceased falling yet. 

Jeongguk squeezes your shoulder, “it’s been a year, Y/N. You should move on now. Live for yourself.”

You nod, trying not to argue, trying not to let his words affect you at all. 

A year without Taehyung is nothing short of a nightmare. And moving on? No. not when you want to busk into his half-presence, not when you promised him forever. 

“And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody It won't leave my head”  

Taehyung’s lips envelop yours in a kiss. It’s soft and sweet, not rushed, as if he has all the time in the world.  

You kiss him back. But you rush it. You know - you know for a fact that you don’t have much time. You need to savor this moment till it lasts, till he lasts. 

You try to clutch his shirt tight, unwilling to let him vanish but nothing comes into your grip. You try again, initiating a useless fight with the fabric but you fail, you fail again and again and again. And then it feels damp. Wet with something thicker than water. 

Something like blood. 

The metallic odor fills your nostrils again, you fail to breathe, choke on air but determined to not let Taehyung go. 

Trying to breathe again, you open your eyes with a sharp pain in your neck. 

You are in your bed, alone, crying on your pillow. 

There’s no Teahyung. He hasn’t been here for more than a year now. 

Grief embraces you tightly again. You cry, cry and cry. 

You cry for him. You cry for yourself. You cry for the love you have lost. 

You cry for failing to see through him. 

You cry for failing to save him. 

You cry, cry and cry. 

“Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise No one compares to you I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side”

You stand on the edge. Barefoot. Just like Taehyung had stood here that night. 

Your white flowy dress flutters as the chilly wind brushes past you. 

It’s so peaceful here right now. You love it. 

The sun is yet to rise, but light has started to cut through the darkness just a little bit. A mystic blue hue fills every corner of the horizon. 

You look down. As expected, the road is empty, no cars in view. 

Suddenly, you feel fear coursing through your veins. You are not afraid of the fall, you are afraid of the aftermath. 

What if.. What if you don’t find Taehyung there? What if he has already- 

Cold fingers slip through the gap of yours, interlacing a pair of hands together. Taehyung stands beside you, smiling at you beautifully. 

But his eyes are sad. 

“I’m sorry” he whispers. This is the first time he’s talking to you in a year. 

You heave a sigh of relief, “don’t be. We are going to meet soon.” 

You smile, stepping in the space with nothing underneath your feet, “see you” you say, before starting to fall. 

“But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight I don't want to wake up from this tonight”

For once you know you are not going to wake up anymore. All the pain will vanish as soon as your body hits the ground. 

And you will meet Taehyung. 

You will meet him on the other side of life.

[harryhighkey]

let you go

hi! - this is lowkey the last part of my frontman x reader series!!

thank you so so so much for all the love on this series I have had the best time writing it!!! I love my version of In-ho fr and I'm glad others did too!!

lowkey the last part because I'm not fully done with these characters yet but this series is done, does that make sense? lmaoo basically end of series but not end of them !!

please let me know what you think!!!!!! happy reading!!

a frontman x reader series - masterlist to series here

Waking up felt like bliss.

The bed you were sleeping on was the comfiest bed you had ever slept on, the sheets around you were so soft against your skin, the pillow your head rested on curved against your neck and skull perfectly.

You sighed at how comfortable you felt, your eyes still closed as you were still in that limbo between being asleep and awake. You couldn't remember the last time you had such a peaceful sleep. All the aches and tightness that had gathered up in your body over the past days had left from your rest in this bed of luxury. Did this mean that the games were over?

The games.

Your eyes sprung open at that thought, suddenly you were snapped wide awake.

Your surroundings were unfamiliar, the room all black and sleek. You sat up in the bed, the sheets falling from your body at the movement. That's when you realised you were out of your Player 183 outfit. The blood stained green and white outfit had been replaced for a clean black shirt that had a baggy fit on you. You pushed the sheets from you further and saw that black sweat pants dressed your bottom half. They also looked baggy but the drawstring had been done up tight to keep them on you.

Just as you were wondering who had dressed you, you then noticed the clothes weren't the only clean thing. You yourself realised how you felt so clean and fresh. The slightest smell of soap still lingering on your skin.

Who bathed me?

The relaxed state you had been in while waking up was quickly changing. Your breath quickened as you started to panic, you had no idea if you were still in danger or not.

In a rush, you jumped up from the bed and went to the door. You were terrified as your hand gripped the handle, you didn't turn it yet, you had no idea what was on the other side. What if another sick game was waiting for you? You pressed your ear against the door, it was silent. You took in a deep breath and attempted to turn the handle.

It was locked.

"Fuck." You said out loud. You tried again, but it would not budge, you were trapped in here. Once you stopped trying to turn it, you heard a noise on the other side, your heart beat faster as you leaned in again. You could hear someone walking right towards the door.

Frantically you turned back around, frightened tears filling your eyes as you looked for somewhere to hide. Your quick scan of the bedroom came up empty. You heard a key going into the door handle, you had to act fast.

The next second, you were scrambling under the bed. As the door opened you clamped your own hand over your mouth, not wanting to make a sound.

You watched black boots take a few steps into the room and shut the door once they were in. The boots walked around the bed, you kept your eyes trained on them, the only other thing you could see of this person was the ankles of the black suit pants they wore.

"You can come out now." He spoke, that same authoritative voice you had come to know so well the past few days.

Young-il?

"Come on, pretty girl. Weren't you so much more comfortable on top of the bed?"

It was definitely him, but you had no idea what was going on. Why was he dressed differently too? Why were you both in this room? How had you made it out of the fight? You were trying desperately to piece together your last memories of the fight between the players and the guards, but you were pulled back to reality by the man kneeling on the ground. You watched with wide eyes as he leant down and finally, you could see his face.

You were relieved it was him, but he looked different like this. Dressed in all black, his hair pushed back. He was the one who had been comforting you when you felt exactly like this these past few days, but right now he half looked like a stranger.

You hadn't said a word but he was gathering all he needed to know from your body language. He saw how scared you were, cowering in on yourself under his bed. Slowly, he held out his hand to you. "Let me help you out from under there." His voice came out harder than he meant it to. While you had been sleeping, he had to go back to being the Frontman, and he had to do to gain control back from the players. It had been intense. You frowned at his tone, and he knew he had to bring back the man you knew him as, the man he wanted to be for you. So he tried again, softer this time. "It's me, baby, you don't have to be scared."

Your eyes shifted from his and to his hand, remembering all the times you had held it, all the times that same hand had helped you, comforted you, guided you, lifted you, caressed you, touched you. Cautiously, you placed yours into his, your fear easing a little at the familiar feeling of his hand engulfing yours, grateful that still felt the same.

He aided in pulling you out from the under the bed, sitting you down on the side of the bed where he sat beside you, his hand never letting go of yours.

The silence between you both was deafening, you had a thousand questions going through your head, you weren't sure where to even start.

"You're safe now, you're out of the games. For good." He told you, one of your unspoken questions answered.

In-ho had become a master at reading body language, you were being guarded right now but he was concentrating on any micro expressions you might offer up. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto a few strands of his slicked back hair that had fallen forward from when he had knelt down just then. Those strands of hair made him seem more like the man you had come to care for. He noticed you looking, he squeezed your hand in his, wanting to prompt you to talk.

"You look different." Was all you could manage to say, you slipped your hand out of his and as much as he wanted to grab it again, he let you have your space. You scooted back up to the headboard, leaning your back against it and gathering your legs to your chest as a makeshift guard.

He needed you to come back to him, to open up, to let him in again, so he tried to keep things light-hearted. "So do you." He gestured to the clothes on your body with a smile. You looked down at yourself in the black clothes that didn't belong to you.

"Who's clothes are these?"

"Mine."

"Who dressed me?"

"Me."

"Who bathed me?"

"Me." He answered your questions honestly. You snapped your gaze to his, eye contact locked with one another. Your face was screwing up, you felt exposed. Subconsciously, you wrapped your arms around yourself and pulled your legs in tighter. He could see you thinking the worst, he couldn't have you thinking of him like that. "I didn't do anything else other than wash you. I thought you would rest much better feeling fresh and clean. I would never touch or do anything like that to you without your consent." His words were serious.

He wasn't wrong, you had enjoyed a very deep sleep. That lead you to another thought. "When did I even fall asleep? I don't remember getting here." You were thinking out loud. You remember saying bye to Dae-ho. The bullets flying. Running with Player 001. Him kissing you. Him drugging you.

In-ho kept his face still as you suddenly froze. You were piecing it together, you were remembering. You were trying your hardest not to react now that it was coming back, but he was a master in unspoken human language.

"(Y/N), anything I did was to take care of you-"

"Stop." You cut him off, lifting one of your hands and holding it in front of his face. You looked back to him, a frown etched into your face. You focused on his eyes, they were still the same. You still trusted them. Slowly, you lowered your hand. "What was in the needle?"

"Just a bit of general sedative, it was only meant to knock you out for a couple of hours."

"How long was I out?"

"11 hours."

"What?! Why was it so long? Did you give me more?!" You were instantly angered, he had to diffuse this.

"No, no. You must have been exhausted from the games, you were deep asleep. I kept checking on you to make sure you were okay. I didn't try to wake you, I figured you needed the rest."

"I've been here the whole time? In this bed?"

"Yes. Except for when I bathed you, I did that then put you to bed."

"I was completely knocked for that?"

"Yes." He continued to answer you honestly, if your constant questions was going to keep you here with him, he was glad about that, so he would continue to answer.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Bathe me."

"I-"

"No." You cut him off again. "Show me. I need to know how you did it. Show me here what you did."

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air was so thick between you both that you were almost panting. You knew there was other things you should be asking him, he knew it too.

He shifted first, removing his heavy boots, discarding them on the floor and then moving across the bed until he was sitting beside you. His back leaning against the headboard with his legs outstretched. You kept your eyes trained on him, as he did with you.

"I was like this, but, if you want me to show you..." he looked down at the empty space in between his legs and then back to you. "I had you in front of me."

Your eyes trailed down his position on the large bed. Against your better judgement, you crawled to the spot in front of him. Once you were sat between his legs, you leant back against him. His solid chest felt familiar against your back, like you were back in your tiny bunk. He wrapped his arms around you, despite everything, his touch still comforted you so you relaxed against him.

"We were like this?"

"Yes."

Silence fell between you both as you tried to picture it. You found yourself wishing you had been conscious for it, to experience being so intimately close to him. Was that wrong? You weren't sure he was the man you thought he was anymore.

You needed to distract yourself from those thoughts. "Where are we?"

"My bedroom."

You looked around the room again, searching for clues that told you more about him, desperate to find something that showed you he was still the man you had grown close to. There was nothing super defining, the room was so minimally decorated.

Who was he?

You wouldn't find out unless you asked. But you were terrified of an answer you already knew.

"Young-il-"

He cut you off. "In-ho."

"What?"

"My name is not Young-il. It's In-ho. Hwang In-ho."

Suddenly his hold wasn't comforting, you tensed up, tears blurred your vision, you hadn't even known this man's real name. What if it all had been fake? You tried to get up but he tightened his hold around you.

"Let me go!"

"No."

"Yes!" You thrashed against him, but your strength was no match for his. At one point you had freed one of your arms but all you'd managed to grab was a pillow that just as much hit your own head as well as his when you swung it back to get him with it. Before you could grab anything else, he pinned your arm back under his in the hold he had around you. You tried arching your back but he would twist his arms further around you. restricting the space you had to move.

You tried to wiggle, squirm, kick, turn and flail out of his grip, but it was no use.

You collapsed back against him with a sigh, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

"Are you done?" He spoke with a clenched jaw.

"No." Stubbornly, you began tossing and turning again. In-ho's patience was wearing thin, his fingertips started to dig into your sides. However when you stopped and flinched, yelping out an "ow!" he relaxed his fingers, remembering how you had been hurt during Mingle and it was right where he was pressing into you. He saw the bruises that were painting your skin when he had you in the bath, how could he hurt you knowing they were there?

You'd found it unintentionally, his weakness. Your chance to escape was so close. "You're hurting me!" You cried out, his heart ached at the thought, he had sworn to do the opposite of hurting you, he was meant to keep you safe, unharmed.

The second you felt his hold loosen, you broke free. You didn't spare a moment before you leapt up from the bed

"(Y/N)!" In-ho reached out for you but you were already opening the door and making a run for it.

You ran through a black hallway until you were in a much larger room. You didn't stop moving as you looked for a doorway, knowing In-ho was only steps behind you. Upon spotting it, you sprinted.

"(Y/N), stop!"

"No!" You yelled back, your hands landing on the door handle but when you went to twist it, it didn't move. "No." This time your no was defeated. You were faced with another locked door. You were trapped.

You hadn't left the games at all, this was just another one, a different kind. A game where your heart was playing against your head. Your heart wanted to run right back to the man who had trapped you in this room, if he didn't care about you, you would be dead by now. But your head said to find a way out, he had lied to you, you couldn't trust him.

You turned back to In-ho, he had stopped chasing you - knowing you couldn't get out - instead he had taken a seat on the luxurious couch in the centre of the room. His eyes locked onto yours as he took a sip of the dark liquid in the glass in his hand.

You broke the eye contact first, distracted by an object that was resting on the table beside the couch. Your breath hitched in your throat as you walked closer, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you lifted it.

It was a mask, all black, you could see a distorted looking face made out of geometric shapes within it.

"Do you like it?" In-ho dared to ask, seeing you hold it in one hand while your other traced the lines along it.

You looked back to him then. "Let me out, In-ho." You said his name with distaste.

He shouldn't have but he smiled, he liked hearing you finally say his name even if it was said with spite.

Your temper was reaching it's boiling point and acting on an impulse, you brought the mask up and threw it right at his face with all of your strength. His reflexes were quick though, he brought his hands up in front of his face to block the impact. The mask smashed the glass that was still in his hand. Pieces of it went flying, one of which was right to his face, leaving a cut to his cheek.

As he lowered his hands from his face, it was his temper that had reached a boiling point now. You stepped back as he stood up, you were terrified of what he would do. He noticed and it annoyed him more.

"Stupid girl," he started with an insult, "you should know by now that I won't hurt you." His voice was laced with anger. "The taking of your life would have been an easy one. Instead, I chose to keep you alive, which proved to be a much harder task." He brought his hand up to his own face to apply pressure to the cut, blood beginning to pool and threatening to spill down his skin. "It seems I can't have the same trust in you, though." In-ho was a master manipulator, he wanted his words to make you feel guilty.

It worked.

Before you could say anything, he picked up his mask and took quick steps to the door, using a key to unlock it.

"Wait!" You yelled as he opened it and stepped out, you tried to hurry over to it before it was closed, but you weren't quick enough. The door was locked again.

-----

You didn't know how much time had passed since In-ho had left. You just knew it had been a long time and you had gone through a range of emotions.

First it was anger, you pounded on the door, screaming at the top of your lungs, throwing things around. Next came claustrophobia, sure the area of this apartment was large but you were locked in here. That lead to the hyper alertness, familiarising yourself with every inch of this space. You'd found certain things that told you more about him, - In-ho - you'd said his name out loud again and again, getting used to saying it in place of Young-il. Fear filled you when the door opened and guards walked in, but they didn't say a word as they brought in food and drinks on a bar cart for you then quickly exited. Seeing the guards confirmed you were still somewhere close to where the games were taking place, that lead to you feeling concerned for the people you'd grown closer to in there. Were they still alive? Were the games still taking place?

The games. The all too familiar panic surged through you as the haunting memories you had experienced filled your mind, all of the terror, the sounds of gun shots, the hundreds of dead bodies, the blood, death, death, death.

You lost the ability to take in a complete breath, each time you attempted to do so it would only make your airflow more uneven. You tried putting your own hand against your chest, the same way Player 001 had done when he calmed you down from feeling this way. Your trembling hand didn't have the same magic touch.

What you didn't know is that In-ho had been keeping an eye on you from the cameras hidden so up high you didn't spot them. He was busy keeping an eye on the contestants now that he had officially resumed his role as Frontman, but he was never so busy that he couldn't watch over you, as well.

He'd observed you going through each emotion over the past several hours. This was the worst one for him to see because of the guilt that consumed him. In-ho as the Frontman kept these games going, the games that had done this to you. His own trauma from his own experience of being a contestant had turned him into the Frontman, he couldn't let yours turn you evil, he had to keep you good. You were his last shred of hope.

-----

You hid yourself away in the bed, you cacooned yourself in the luxury sheets and blankets, you weren't even that cold, you just wanted to shield yourself with something. Much like a young child who was experiencing a loud storm for the first time. Tears spilled down your cheeks, whimpers sounded out, your body shivered, you weren't sure how you ever going to get used to dealing with the terror you had experienced.

You were facing the doorway when In-ho walked in. Scared eyes meeting concerned ones. You knew it was wrong but you were so relieved to see him. He knew that was wrong too.

For tonight, you both would ignore that fact. "Please hold me." You cried out and it was his turn to feel relief. All he wanted to do was hold you and comfort you, but he needed you to let him in first.

Once he joined you in the bed, his arms came around you to pull you against him and you tangled your legs with his.

"Deep breaths, remember?" In-ho told you, moving his hand to your chest and holding his open hand against it to soothe you. You listened and with your eyes locked on his, you tried to take a full one in, the air got hitched in your throat more than a few times. "Again." In-ho commanded, nodding with each breath you took until they finally evened out.

Laying there with your heads on the same pillow, this felt like the man you had known, but he was different now.

"Was Young-il real?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho didn't know how to answer. It was an act to begin with, but his feelings for you were the most true thing he had felt in a long time. "Yes and no." You frowned slightly and averted your gaze from his and he felt you make the slightest shift away from him. "Everything between us was real."

You sighed and then silence fell between you both. You were still having that internal battle in your mind of if you could accept all of him now. What you didn't know is that In-ho had been having his own internal battle and he'd made the decision for you.

"I'm going to let you go, let you leave." He announced. Witnessing you still experiencing the affects of the games even though you were out and safe, he knew you needed to not be around any reminders of it at all if you were to properly heal. Him included. He knew the risk of this, that you could go out and report what had happened, but that had happened before, barely anyone got taken seriously. He was willing to take that risk for the sake of your mental wellbeing.

"What?"

"In the morning, you'll leave. I'll arrange it for you, you'll get home safely. Your debts have already been taken care of. You'll be completely free of anything that happened here, I promise you."

You were in shock, some sort of relief washed over you, but you were indifferent to it. You were hearing what he wasn't saying.

"I won't see you again?"

"No."

You couldn't deny the pain in your heart at the thought of that.

"Leave with me?"

"I wish I could, but it's not that simple for me, baby."

The glimmer of tears appeared in both your eyes as you looked at one another, your bottom lip wobbled and In-ho's gaze shifted to it. There was something he had to do just one last time.

When he leant in to kiss to you, you clung to him. Your heart swelled at the feeling of his lips on yours. The taste of salt snuck in as a few tears fell between the kiss, you weren't sure if they were yours or In-ho's.

In-ho pulled back first, but he quickly left another chaste peck to your lips. "I have to go." He said simply, he was breaking his own heart and he knew the longer this goodbye was drawn out the worse of an affect it would have on him.

"No-" You reached out for him as he started to get up from the bed, you managed to grab one of his hands.

He turned to look at you with a sad smile, bringing your hand up to kiss it, too. "Stay in here tonight, have a good sleep, you're safe in here. A guard will knock on the door in the morning, you answer when you're ready, they'll wait for you. And then you'll be taken home."

He went to turn away but you tugged on his hand. "In-ho," how bittersweet you were finally calling him by his real name so sweetly, but he wouldn't hear it again after tonight. "Can you rub my head until I fall asleep?"

He knew he should have said no, just like he should have the first night when you asked him the same thing, then none of this would have happened. But he was greedy when it came to you, how could he deny his pretty girl this last request?

"Yes."

[vortexbloom]

Velvet Nights

(Part 2)

Pairing: Phainon x Escort Girl Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Toxic male OC, Modern Au, Kinda short

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

Velvet Nights (Part 1)

Velvet Nights (Part 3)

Velvet Nights (Bonus)

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

Art by: @junnoelle on X (Twitter)

You woke up wrapped in silk sheets, the scent of expensive cologne lingering on your skin. Phainon’s arm was draped over your waist, his breathing slow and steady against your shoulder.

It felt… peaceful. And that terrified you.

This wasn’t the life you knew. Your world was neon lights, whispered deals, and men who saw you as nothing more than a transaction. But Phainon wasn’t like them.

He never treated you like something to be owned.

And that made it harder to resist him.

As you carefully slid out of bed, grabbing your dress from the floor, you felt his gaze on you.

"You’re leaving," Phainon murmured, voice still husky from sleep.

You exhaled, refusing to look at him. "I have to."

"You don’t."

His words made you freeze.

Turning, you met his blue eyes—soft, unwavering. "I can take you away from this," he continued, sitting up, the sheets pooling around his waist. "You don’t have to go back to that club. To them."

You swallowed hard. "And what? Be yours instead?"

Phainon’s expression darkened slightly, but he remained composed. "No. You’d be your own. But you wouldn’t have to sell parts of yourself to men who don’t deserve you."

A bitter laugh escaped you. "And you think you do?"

Silence.

Then, Phainon stood, closing the space between you. His fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your face up to his. "I think I could," he murmured, his lips inches from yours. "If you let me."

Your heart clenched. You wanted to believe him. But you knew better.

"Phainon… you don’t belong in my world," you whispered.

His grip tightened just slightly, golden eyes searching yours. "Then let me bring you into mine."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

You didn’t leave the club.

You couldn’t.

Phainon didn’t understand—this wasn’t just about money. It was about survival. The club wasn’t just a place you worked; it was a place you were owned.

And the owner, Dain, didn’t take kindly to girls trying to run.

"You’ve been distracted lately," Dain mused one evening, swirling a glass of whiskey between his fingers. His eyes, sharp and predatory, never left yours.

You forced a smirk. "Maybe I’m just getting bored."

Dain chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "I hear a certain client has been keeping you busy. One with a lot of money and a little too much interest in things that aren’t his."

Your blood ran cold.

"You know the rules, sweetheart." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "No one gets to keep you."

His words weren’t a threat. They were a warning.

And Phainon was in danger.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

You tried to push Phainon away after that.

Tried to go back to the way things were. Cold, detached, untouchable.

But he wasn’t the kind of man who let things go easily.

"You’re lying to me," he said one night as you sat in his car outside the club, refusing to meet his gaze. "Something’s wrong."

You shook your head. "You don’t get it, Phainon. This is my life."

"No," he said firmly. "This is the life you were forced into. That doesn’t mean you have to stay in it."

Tears burned at your eyes. "And what if I don’t have a choice?"

Phainon was silent for a long moment. Then, his hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up.

"You do now," he murmured.

And in that moment, you realized something terrifying.

Phainon wasn’t going to let you go.

Even if it meant tearing down the world that kept you caged.

Taglist: @ivana013-blog

Make sure to tell me if you want to be tagged in the next parts.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[ysabelyaps]

Warning: honestly, just bad writing. I’m sick rn but I’m bored so

Summary: Sae-Byeok experiences new feelings with her roommate and decided to confront them. (Or something like that)

A/N: This is so bad I’m sorry, I’m sick, but I’m bored, but I’m sleepy, but I wanted to get it done, but like yk. I’ll probably redo it eventually..

Part: 2/2

⇠✧❀✧⇢

“I like you.”

“Huh?.. I like you too? What are you on about Sae-Byeok?” Maybe talking about this at this time wasn’t the best idea.

“[name], I like you romantically. I think.. this is new for me.. but..” she pauses, “I want to experience it with you, no one else.”

Oh wow. Okay, way to be bold? Your face heats up, you can feel the heat. You can feel it radiating off of your skin. Is it hot in here? Maybe it’s because of Sae-Byeok, it was definitely because of Sae-Byeok.

“..okay. Well, uhm. I like you too, uhm…”

Here you guys were again, staring at each other. Awkwardly. You fiddled with your fingers, but she was staring at you. Straight into your eyes. Like she was trying to pull a string of words out of you. What string of words you may ask? You probably know.

“So uh.. Sae-Byeok.. will you uhm.. will you be my girlfriend?..”

You know it would happen eventually, but the words actually leaving your mouth. You felt as if you would faint right there.

“..” she pauses, “yeah. Yeah I’ll be your girlfriend.”

…

So now what? This was awkward. Why does it always have to be awkward? Can’t it be normal for once? Maybe that’s just how it is when you put two people who are bad at socializing together. One has always been too much for others, and the other was too intimidating. Their experience with people put together is still not very much at all.

“It’s late, can I sleep with you?” Sae-Byeok’s warm voice fills the silent room. Sharing a bed with her didn’t seem terrible. But by that does she mean like.. are we going to cuddle? Or just lay awkwardly.. or..

Eventually you nodded, praying that she would make it obvious what she was trying to do or what she wanted. Unfortunately, that didn’t go to plan.

You guys laid on the bed, arms by your sides. Stiff and awkward, until eventually Sae-Byeok awkwardly wrapped her arms around you. Still stiffly though, somehow.

“Sae-Byeok relax. You’re really stiff, just breathe it’s okay.” Maybe listen to yourself for once? It’s fine, you guys have known each other for a while. You have mutual feelings. It’s fine, just.. breathe in and out. Relax and enjoy the moment. You in her arms, her warm embrace. Just let yourself relax.

You did eventually fall asleep, before Sae-Byeok. The room was silent, the only noise being your soft breathing. Sae-Byeok looked down at you, your head resting against her chest. She started playing with your hair a little. She knew she wasn’t going to fall asleep any time soon. She couldn’t. Not when she loved this moment so much. She wanted to stay in it forever.

It was nice and peaceful.. she really liked it. You looked so pretty in her eyes, the way your lips slightly parted in your sleep, your calm expression. The way you fit in her arms, and as she played with your hair she became more and more aware of how soft and silky your hair was. And it smelled nice.

After a few moments, she brushed your hair out of your face. Before she pulled out her phone.

Click

You weren’t the only one who liked to take pictures of pretty things.

⇠✧❀✧⇢

[whitlocklibrary]

Saving his Damsel~

𓉸ྀི ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧

🃜 pairing : David × Female! Goth! Mate Reader

🃜 fandom: Lost Boys x Reader

🃜 summary: Reader is new to Santa Carla and after avoiding the boardwalk for months she joins her friends for a night. She is drawn to the carousel and thats where she meets the boys. (no use of y/n) (I left the outfit entirely up to you the only thing described are the belts, boots and jacket. But you can imagine your look however you want)

🃜 Word Count: 2.3k

🃜 Warnings: Physical Assault, Death

🃜 Requests: Open

𓉸ྀི ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧

The lights of the Santa Carla boardwalk will draw anyone in from tourists to surfers and even goths like yourself. You were still new to Santa Carla area having moved there a few months prior. You had been to the boardwalk a few times,but people weren’t really your thing so you stayed away. One night your friends that you’ve made since moving there wanted to go explore the boardwalk. They only went to it during the day,their parents didn’t want them out after dark, but they were finally able to go. You spent the evening hours getting ready, teasing your hair into a huge messy up-do. You used a lot of hairspray, starting with your roots you styled it into a poofy and messy look. After your hair was done you covered your face in white foundation before lining your eyes with black liner, big bold wings now standing out against the white foundation. And to top off the look you added black lipstick to your lips.

Now your outfit. You had dug through closet for an hour before finally deciding on something. You had slipped on the clothes you chose before layering some belts and chains around your waist. And finally to complete the whole look you throw on some combat boots and your black leather jacket. After spraying some perfume, you grab your keys and head out the door. And in your driveway sits a black 1967 Chevy Impala, it shines in the last bit of sunlight.

You slide into the drivers seat, setting your bag beside you. After sliding the key’s into the ignition you start the car,and it comes to life with a small hum. You sit their for a few minutes going through your cassette tapes, before deciding on The Cure. After sliding the cassette tape in,you car is filled with the lyrics from A Night Like This. The drive to the boardwalk was peaceful, most of the locals retreating into their homes before nightfall. The boardwalk was mostly full of tourists and the braver side of the locals.

You park your car in a spot that was close to the boardwalk. You barely come here at night so you wanted to make sure you could get away fast. You were the first of your friends to get there so you get out, and lean against the rails by the entrance. People watching was always fun in Santa Carla, there were so many different types of people. There were the tourists, the punks, the goths (like yourself), the girls who just wanted a good lay, and the guys who would jump anything with a set of legs. And of course there were the Surf Nazi’s, they were some of the crudest people in Santa Carla. Your thoughts were cut off by loud bike engines,and you knew which group it was. All of Santa Carla knew who they were. The infamous Lost Boys.

You had never seen the group in person so you looked curiously. There were three blondes and a brunette. The first blonde you saw had curly hair, a patched jacket, and cherub like face.

The second blonde had long, wild blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s wearing a black coat that reaches his knees with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and split up the back, ending at his waste-line. The next one you saw was the brunette, he was tall and wore a black jacket without a shirt underneath it. And the final one you saw took your breath away. His short hair was styled into a mullet, and it was a platinum blonde. He wore a leather jacket, matching gloves, and dusty black pants. As you were looking him over, he was looking right back at you. And your eyes collided (e/c) clashing with an icy blue. You quickly averted your eyes not wanting to get on their bad side or have to much attention put on you.

Unfortunately for you, their attention was already on you, specifically David’s. The rest of the boys heard David’s thoughts through the pack bond, and they knew that he called dibs on you. The boys stayed perched on their bikes as David watched you with a cigarette between his lips. Then your friends finally arrived, and you headed into the boardwalk with them.

“Let’s go boys.” David says as he climbs off his bike and makes his way onto the boardwalk.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　 𓉸𓉸𓉸𓉸𓉸 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You knew that your friends weren’t gonna stick around long. They were the type to go find any guy that would show interest. Since they ditched you, after some debating you head to the carousel. As you get on the carousel you notice a beautiful black horse,and make a beeline for it. You climb up on it, sitting sideways so your legs can dangle off the side. Your hand wrapping around the pole to keep yourself from falling as the carousel starts to move. As the ride moves you swing your legs humming Girls Girls Girls by the Motley Crue. Santa Carla was always full of excitement, but at this moment it was peaceful. That peace didn’t last very long when suddenly you felt two people move behind your horse.

“You got some pretty good music taste Goth girl.” You turn your head towards the voice, and you see two of the blondes behind you. The one that spoke was the long haired one.

“Yeah didn’t expect a girlie like you to know Motley Crew.” The curly haired one says as he leans against the back of your horse.

“And what’s that supposed to mean? Looks don’t define a person’s music taste.” You shoot back with a small glare as you cross your arms across your chest.

“Oh the little lady has some fire in her.” A new voice joins in as the third blonde appears on your side. His hand coming up to grab the pole as he leans in a bit closer. As he leans closer the fourth one joins standing by the front of the horse, they made it to where you couldn’t run.

“What’s a pretty one like yourself doing all alone. We saw you with a group earlier.” It was the platinum blonde again.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business…” You trail off realizing that you don’t know his name.

“David.” He says before pointing out each of the boys.

“That’s Paul.” It was the long haired blonde that first spoke to you, and he sends you a flirtatious smile.

“Marko.” The curly haired blonde. He sends you a wave with his fingers sporting a cheshire grin.

“And Dwayne.” The brunette didn’t say anything all he did was send you a nod.

“Well David as I said before I don’t see how it’s any of your business where my friends are.” You say before dismounting from the horse and leaving the ride once it stopped. Marko and Paul move to stop you, but David stops them with his hand.

“No one touches her. She’s mine.” Paul and Marko hold their hands up in surrender already knowing what this means with their brother. He rarely showed interest in anyone unless he was wanting to feed. And they could tell he didn’t want to feed on you. No he wanted something else.

“Well then let’s go get your girl.” Paul says as him and Marko start to shove each other making their way off the carousel. David and Dwayne share a look before following after the Terror Twins.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　 𓉸𓉸𓉸𓉸𓉸 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After escaping from the boys you wander around the boardwalk slowly gathering your friends so you can leave. Their parents still wanted them home at a good time since so many people go missing at night. So you made sure they left the boardwalk safely, and made it to their cars. You quickly do a head count of your friends before you all head towards the parking lot. Making sure they’re all safely in their cars and heading home you go to your own car. You reach into your bag grabbing your keys, continuing to your car until you hear a wolf whistle.

“Hey there hot stuff how about you join us for the night.” A male voice calls out followed by catcalls from what you believe are his friends. You ignore them picking up speed as you make a beeline for your car. It happens when you’re about an arms length away. You’re grabbed from behind your keys falling to the ground as you start to struggle.

“Come on baby don’t be like that we saw you with those biker punks. So come on you can show us a bit of attention.” The hands that were on you yank you around making you face the group. It was a group of the Surf Nazi’s.

“Let me go.” You say as you bring your hand up trying to pry his hand off.

“Playing hard to get I like that.” The guy says laughing as you attempt to pull away. His grip tightens on you, yanking you closer to him. As his grip tightens you let out a pained cry.

“Stop squirming.” He says as one of his hands grab a fistful of your hair. Another pained cry leaving your mouth. Before anything else can happen the roar of bike engines fill the air as four headlights surround you and the guy.

“I believe the lady said to let go.” David says from atop his bike, gloved hands clenching his handle bars tightly. The guy looks at his friends and they all just laugh.

“Or what. You’re out numbered.”

“Boys.” With that one word the boys descend onto the group. One set of hands is carefully yanking you out of the guys grip and pushing you towards David. Screams fill the air behind you, and you go to turn around before a gloved hand is stopping you.

“You don’t need to see that Doll.” David says as he pulls you closer to him. His free hand comes up to carefully fix your hair.

“Did he hurt you anywhere?” Words evading you all you can do is shake your head no. Your mind was still trying to wrap around everything that was happening. You were being saved by the Lost Boys. The biker gang that everyone in Santa Carla avoided, who they were scared of, but they were helping you.

“Hm good.” David says as he looks up at the carnage behind you. His eyes zeroing in on the one who had his hands on you. He was left alone but unable to run away after Marko broke his leg. The rest of the boys knew their brother would want him. For touching his mate that guy signed his own death warrant.

“Alright boys feeding time. Finish up and bring that one back to the cave with us.” David says and your face shows confusion at his words as the screaming begins to quiet down.

“Feeding time?” You mutter to yourself and look up at David.

“Feeding time? What are you talking about? What are you?” At your questions David chuckles.

“What am I. Why I’m yours just as much as you’re mine.” He says as he pulls the cigarette from behind his ear and puts it in his mouth.

“Yours?”

“Yes mine.” He says after lighting up the cigarette. He slides backwards on his bike making room in front of him. Leaning forward he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in front of him.

“So the Doll wants to know what I am. You hear that boys she wants to know what we are.”

“Who wants to know?” Paul says playfully

“The Little Lady wants to know.” Marko says. You let out a huff as they mess with you, and then you feel David’s hand on your chin making you look up. This time your breath catches in your throat again as you stare at a completely different face. His face looked monstrous his eyes now a reddish yellow, and his teeth now fangs. You look at him in awe and excitement as your hands come up. The boys look on with surprise on their faces from your reaction.

“Oh my god you’re vampires.” You say with a small squeal as your hands latch onto David’s face, tracing his vampiric features.

“You’re not afraid.”

“Afraid? No. Excited. Yes.” Your hands keep roaming his face.

“Never seen someone so excited over this.” Marko says from behind you.

“It’s weird they usually scream in fear not excitement.” Paul says as they begin to dispose of all the bodies except for one.

“How long have you been a vampire? Can you still eat human food? Does garlic actually work on you.” You start rapid firing questions and the boys could barely keep up.

“Woah doll calm down. I’ll answer all the questions you gave back at our cave.” David says as he gently pries your hands away from his face. The boys walk back to their bikes after getting rid of the bodies, Paul carrying the unconscious body of the guy who decided to mess with you. As he passes by Dwayne hands you your car keys that you dropped.

“You’re riding with me we’ll comeback for your car.” David says as he moves you to sit behind him.

“Wait before we go does this mean I get to be one of you.” You ask as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“Yes you’ll become one of us tonight doll, and that piece of garbage will be your first kill. Now hang on tight we’re about to have some fun.”

[serapharua]

୨୧ 一 &TEAM WITH AN IDOL S/O . . !

&team ot9 — GENRE : imagines headcanon fluff — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : none — REQUESTED : yes. ☆ — &t masterlist

note : i apologize if it’s a tad bit repetitive.

K :

K understood the demands of being an idol better than most. The packed schedules, the pressure to always perform at your best, the scrutiny from the public—it was all something he had experienced firsthand. That’s why, as your boyfriend, he became your biggest supporter while also being the one who made sure you took care of yourself.

He wasn’t the type to shower you with loud praise, but his support was constant and unwavering. Whenever you had a big performance, he’d send you a message beforehand:

You’ve practiced hard. You’re going to do great. Just have fun out there.

And afterward, whether it was a huge award show or just a regular music broadcast, you’d always find another message waiting for you.

Proud of you. Get some rest.

If your schedules overlapped, K was discreet but attentive. He wouldn’t make things obvious, but his gaze would always linger on you during events, checking if you were doing okay. If he saw you looking exhausted, he’d subtly pass you a water bottle or make sure you had space to breathe.

When you were overwhelmed, K didn’t push you to talk about it right away. Instead, he’d pull you into a quiet moment, away from the cameras, the lights, and the expectations. “You don’t have to smile right now,” he’d murmur, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Just be here with me.”

On the rare occasions when you had a break together, K made it a point to keep things simple. No grand gestures, just the kind of peace you both rarely got in your busy lives. A quiet walk, late-night talks with soft music in the background, or just lying on the couch together, no words needed.

“I don’t need to do anything fancy,” he’d say when you apologized for not having much free time together. “I just want to be with you.”

Of course, K had a playful side too. If you ever acted cool and charismatic on stage, he’d tease you about it later. “So that’s how you talk to your fans?” he’d smirk. “Should I start calling you by your stage name too?”

But at the end of the day, he was the one who truly saw you—the version of yourself beyond the spotlight, beyond the idol persona. And no matter how far your career took you, K would always be the steady presence reminding you that, to him, you were just you. And that was more than enough.

FUMA :

Fuma was the perfect mix of supportive and teasing when it came to dating an idol. He admired your talent and dedication, but he never let you take yourself too seriously. While fans saw the confident and charismatic version of you on stage, he was the one who got to see the real you—the one who complained about tight schedules, struggled with choreography, or sent him ridiculous voice notes at 3 a.m.

He was always keeping up with your activities, even if he acted casual about it. He’d be sitting next to you, scrolling on his phone, and suddenly go, “Oh, so you had an interview today? You forgot to mention you called yourself bad at cooking again.”

“You watched that?” you’d ask, grinning.

“I have to keep tabs on you. What if you say something embarrassing?” he teased, ruffling your hair.

But beneath all the joking, Fuma was your biggest supporter. If you had a major performance, he’d watch it no matter where he was. You’d often wake up to texts like:

10/10 performance, as expected. I think I’m your biggest fan.

He’d even stream your songs casually, pretending it was no big deal. But the real kicker? He knew your choreographies. You caught him once, absentmindedly doing part of your chorus while waiting for coffee, and when you called him out, he just smirked. “It’s catchy, okay? You make it look so easy, I wanted to try.”

Whenever you were exhausted from practice or frustrated over small mistakes, Fuma was the first to remind you to be kind to yourself. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time,” he’d say, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You’re already amazing.”

On your rare days off together, he made it a rule to keep things completely stress-free. No work talk, no schedules—just you two doing normal things like binging a show or grabbing food at a quiet place where no one would bother you.

“Bet your fans don’t know you look this cute in sweatpants,” he’d tease as you curled up on the couch.

“Shut up,” you’d laugh, throwing a pillow at him.

At the end of the day, Fuma never let the industry change the way he saw you. No matter how famous you got, to him, you were still the same person—the one he adored, supported, and would always stand by, both on and off the stage.

NICHOLAS :

Nicholas knew what it was like to train, to perform, to constantly be under pressure—so dating you, an idol, was something he naturally understood. He never pried when you were exhausted from schedules, never pushed you to talk when you needed space. Instead, he was just there—a steady, grounding presence in the chaos of the industry.

He never missed a comeback, even if he acted like it wasn’t a big deal. “Oh, your new song dropped? Guess I’ll check it out,” he’d say, scrolling on his phone. But the moment you turned your back, he was watching the MV again, analyzing every detail, silently feeling proud.

He had a habit of catching onto small things before you even said them. If your shoulders slumped after practice, he’d pass you a drink without a word. If you let out a frustrated sigh, he’d casually ask, “Want to rant or do you need a distraction?”

And speaking of distractions—Nicholas was the king of them. If he sensed you overthinking, he’d do something ridiculous just to make you laugh. Like attempting to mimic your choreography with exaggerated movements or suddenly rapping the fanchant to your song in the most monotone voice possible.

“Nicho, stop,” you’d whine, half laughing as he dramatically flailed his arms.

“What? I’m showing my support,” he’d say, smugly continuing.

He never failed to remind you how talented you were, even when you doubted yourself. “You’re you,” he’d say simply, as if that was all that needed to be said. And to him, it really was—because no matter how much pressure the industry threw at you, Nicholas always saw you as more than just an idol. You were his person.

And when you were with him, you weren’t just an idol. You were just you.

EJ :

Dating as idols wasn’t easy, but EJ made it feel effortless. He understood your struggles because he lived them too—early mornings, endless rehearsals, the pressure of always being “on.” But with him, there was always a sense of quiet comfort, like you weren’t going through it alone.

He wasn’t the type to be overly affectionate in public, but behind the scenes, he made sure you knew he cared. If you were exhausted after a long day of schedules, he’d offer you his hoodie without a word. If you had a comeback, he’d casually bring up your song during a live, subtly hyping you up without making it obvious.

“We’ve been listening to a lot of good music lately,” he’d say, glancing at the camera before adding, “Right, guys?” The members would snicker, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Whenever your groups overlapped at music shows, EJ always found a way to check in on you. Whether it was slipping you an extra bottle of water or shooting you a quick thumbs-up before your performance, his presence was a grounding force amidst all the chaos.

Rehearsals were another story. If you practiced in the same building, he’d peek into your studio between breaks, watching you with a small, fond smile. “You work too hard,” he’d say, leaning against the doorframe. “Take a break before I have to drag you out.”

Despite his own busy schedule, he never forgot the little things. If he knew you had an important event coming up, he’d text you before bed:

Don’t overthink it. You’re going to do great.

Also, if you’re nervous, imagine maki doing your choreography. That should help.

Dating EJ meant knowing you had someone who truly understood. Someone who didn’t just admire the idol version of you but loved the person behind it all—the one who got excited over late-night snacks, grumbled about dance practices, and sometimes needed a quiet hand to hold.

And in return, you were always there for him too. Because no matter how hectic things got, you were each other’s safe place.

YUMA :

Yuma was used to living in the spotlight, but dating another idol? That was something he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t the fame or the attention that fazed him—it was the little things, like how difficult it was to find time for each other between packed schedules and constant travel. But somehow, he made it work.

He was always the first to watch your new performances, analyzing every detail like a devoted fan. If you had a comeback, he’d be the one refreshing the charts, texting you updates as if you weren’t already aware.

Yuma: You’re trending. Again.

You: Is that your way of congratulating me?

Yuma: It’s my way of saying you’re killing it, obviously.

Despite his teasing, he was your biggest supporter. He’d secretly learn parts of your choreography just so he could dance along when your songs played. The members caught him more than once practicing your chorus in the mirror, though he’d deny it every time.

“You’ve been humming their song all day,” Fuma pointed out once.

“So?” Yuma said, acting nonchalant. “It’s catchy.”

If your groups promoted at the same time, he’d find every excuse to see you—even if it was just for a few minutes in the hallway. He’d stand beside you during group photos, subtly reaching for your hand when no cameras were looking.

And when the stress of idol life got overwhelming, he always knew how to bring you back down to earth. He’d invite you over to just be, no expectations, no performances—just you and him, wrapped in a blanket, eating snacks while he let you rant about your day.

“You don’t always have to be perfect, you know,” he’d remind you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I love you as you are, not just as the idol everyone sees.”

JO :

Jo might not always be the loudest in the room, but his support for you was as unwavering as it gets. As someone who is soft-spoken and gentle, he expressed his affection through quiet but meaningful gestures. You could always count on him to give you space to shine, but he would never hesitate to step in when you needed him.

When you were preparing for your performances, Jo was your calm in the chaos. Instead of rushing in with words of advice, he’d focus on making sure you were comfortable. If you were feeling stressed, he’d offer a gentle touch on your shoulder or a reassuring smile that made everything feel a little bit easier.

You look amazing. Don’t stress. I know you’ll do great.

He had an uncanny ability to read the mood, knowing when to keep his distance and when to step in. On days you felt overwhelmed, Jo would be your silent strength—standing by your side without demanding attention, just offering his presence, which you always found so soothing. He was great at reading the room too, often noticing when you needed to decompress or just needed a break from everything.

One thing Jo was great at was giving you a sense of normalcy amid the idol world. When you two were alone, he’d pull you into simple activities like watching a random drama, enjoying each other’s company in peace, and even cooking meals together when he could. The moments where you didn’t have to worry about being an idol, and you could just be yourself with him, meant the most.

His gestures of affection were sweet and small. He’d always find little ways to show you he was thinking about you, like leaving a post-it note on your mirror with something sweet or bringing you your favorite snacks without being asked. And when you were about to leave for a schedule, he would always take a moment to give you a soft hug or a gentle kiss on the cheek, making sure you knew how much he cherished you.

Jo might not have been the flashiest boyfriend, but his love was steady and constant. He had a knack for making you feel like you were the most important thing in his world, even on the busiest of days.

HARUA :

Dating Harua felt like having your own personal safe space amid the chaos of the idol industry. He wasn’t flashy about his support, but you always knew he was there—quietly cheering you on, paying attention to every little detail, and making sure you never felt alone in your journey.

Whenever you had a comeback, he’d be the first to watch your performance, his eyes glued to the screen as he took in every move, every expression. He wasn’t the type to bombard you with messages, but he’d send something sweet after every stage.

Harua: You looked amazing today

You: You say that everyday

Harua: Because it’s always true

If your groups promoted at the same time, he’d steal glances at you from across the room during music show rehearsals, his gaze soft but filled with pride. And if you passed by each other in the hallways, he’d give you the smallest, most subtle wave—nothing that would attract attention, but enough to let you know he saw you.

Whenever you were stressed, Harua had a way of making everything feel lighter. He’d invite you over for a quiet night in, playing soft music while you both just relaxed in each other’s company. No pressure, no expectations—just him letting you breathe.

“You don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time,” he’d remind you, his voice gentle as he laced his fingers with yours. “It’s okay to just be you.”

And when you were apart for long stretches, he’d send you little reminders of his presence—random photos of things that reminded him of you, or a simple “Take care of yourself, okay?” message that somehow always arrived when you needed it most.

With Harua, love wasn’t loud or overwhelming. It was steady, constant—like a quiet melody that played in the background of your busiest days, reminding you that no matter how hectic life got, you always had him waiting for you.

TAKI :

Taki was the kind of boyfriend who always made sure you knew how much he cared. Being in the entertainment industry himself, he fully understood the pressures that came with being an idol, so he was there to support you in every way possible.

When you were feeling the weight of the constant schedules and public scrutiny, Taki was your constant source of positivity and light. His approach was always energetic but never overwhelming—he knew just when to cheer you up with his playful attitude and when to give you space to breathe. Whether you were worried about a performance or something that happened backstage, Taki had a way of distracting you just enough to calm your nerves.

You got this! I believe in you 100%! And if you don’t, I’ll just have to steal all the spotlight next time!

There was something about his energy that made it impossible for you to stay upset for long. Even on days when you felt insecure or exhausted, his goofy sense of humor and constant smile would get you back on track. He wasn’t shy about showing you affection in public either. Whether it was holding your hand during press events or sneaking you little looks of admiration when he thought no one was paying attention, Taki was always proud to be seen with you.

But what made Taki especially special was how well he could balance being a doting partner and still respecting your boundaries. He was always there when you needed a hug or a few quiet words of encouragement, but he never pushed you too hard. He understood that as idols, both of you needed space to decompress, and he respected that more than anything.

In moments when it was just the two of you, Taki was a sucker for cuddles. He would pull you close after a long day of rehearsals or events, just to relax in your company. His way of showing love wasn’t always through grand gestures, but in the quiet moments—those little touches, his presence when you needed it, and the way he’d always make sure you were okay.

Taki made sure you knew that your relationship was a safe space—a place where you didn’t have to be perfect or constantly performing. He loved you for who you were, and he wanted you to feel loved and appreciated without all the pressure of being in the spotlight.

MAKI :

Maki’s world was filled with excitement and challenges, but when it came to you, nothing seemed to matter more. As an idol, he understood how difficult it could be to juggle fame with personal life. But he also knew how important it was to support you, and that’s exactly what he did, with a calm and genuine attitude that never wavered.

Maki was attentive, but not in an overbearing way. He had a knack for knowing when you needed space and when you needed comfort. He’d casually ask how your day went, but not with the usual small talk—he genuinely cared and was always there to listen to the struggles that came with the pressures of being in the public eye.

It’s okay to have days where you don’t feel 100%. I’m here for all of it.

There was something grounding about his presence. You could tell he wasn’t just saying things to make you feel better; he understood the emotional rollercoaster that was being an idol. Whether it was tough practice schedules or media expectations, Maki would always remind you to keep a balance between work and taking care of yourself. His gentle, supportive nature gave you reassurance even on the busiest, most stressful days.

When you both found moments to spend together, Maki was all about simplicity. He loved taking you to quiet places where the both of you could relax and forget about the world for a little while. He wasn’t into flashy dates or anything extravagant. For him, a quiet dinner in a cozy restaurant or spending time at home while watching movies was enough.

the world can wait. Right now, I just want to be with you.

One of Maki’s best qualities was his ability to respect your independence. Even as an idol, he never tried to control or push you into doing things you weren’t comfortable with. But when you did need him, he was there in a heartbeat—whether it was offering a shoulder to lean on or giving you an encouraging word before an important performance. He always seemed to know just how to calm your nerves.

What made Maki unique was the way he made even the most mundane moments feel special. Whether it was sharing a quiet morning together, walking hand in hand through the city, or just sitting in comfortable silence, his quiet affection made you feel like the most important person in the room. It was a subtle but deep connection, and you knew you could always count on him to be your steady support.

You’re my peace, you know? I never want you to feel like you’re alone in this.

With Maki, you didn’t have to worry about being judged or having to constantly be “on.” You could just be yourself—an idol, yes, but also a person who deserved love and care beyond the spotlight. And that’s exactly what he gave you every day.

Word count : 3361 | serapharua, 2025.

[itsnesss]

Hey so my mother passed away two days ago. And my coping mechanism is reading comforting fics. Can you please write hwang junho comfort please ❤️

I'm so sorry for your loss, i hope this fic can bring you even a little comfort during this difficult time 🤍

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | grief feels overwhelming, suffocating, like an endless void. but junho is there—steady, unwavering, offering silent comfort when words fail

warnings | emotional distress, comfort

word count | 1.1 k

The room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. It’s one of those nights when silence is louder than any noise. When the world keeps spinning as if nothing has happened, while you feel like everything has come to a stop.

You're sitting on the couch, legs pulled up against your chest, eyes lost in the void. You don’t know how long you’ve been like this. Minutes, hours—maybe the whole night. Time feels irrelevant when the weight of grief presses down on your chest, making you feel trapped in an emptiness that seems impossible to fill.

Then, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Firm, steady, familiar. You don’t have to look to know who it is. Jun-ho.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t ask how you’re doing, because he already knows the answer. He doesn’t try to fill the air with empty words like “everything will be okay,” because he understands that right now, nothing is.

Instead, he simply sits beside you, his quiet presence becoming a refuge in itself. There’s something about the way he settles in, the way his shoulder barely brushes against yours, that makes you feel just a little less alone.

A minute passes. Maybe two. And then, with a gentleness that surprises you, you feel his hand covering yours. His touch is warm, steady—like he’s trying to anchor you to reality, to remind you that there’s still something here holding you up.

"I’m here," he says softly.

Two words. Simple, but carrying so much weight. Because when everything feels like it’s falling apart, when the world seems too cruel to keep moving forward, sometimes the only thing you need is to know that someone is by your side.

Your breath trembles slightly, but you don’t pull away. You don’t lift your gaze from the floor, but you don’t move from his touch either. You let yourself feel his presence, his warmth, the way his thumb moves just barely over your skin in an almost imperceptible gesture of comfort.

"You don’t have to say anything," Jun-ho continues, his deep, steady voice always managing to soothe you. "I just want you to know you’re not alone."

You press your lips together, feeling the lump in your throat. You don’t want to cry again. You’ve already shed so many tears in the past few days that it seems impossible there are any left inside you.

But when you feel his arm slowly slide around your shoulders, pulling you closer into a soft yet firm embrace, the barrier you’ve been trying to hold up finally breaks.

A quiet sob escapes your lips as you lean into his chest. His shirt dampens with your tears, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t pull away.

Instead, his hand moves up to your back, gliding slowly in a protective motion. His other arm wraps securely around your waist, holding you with a silent promise that you don’t have to carry all of this alone.

"I’m here," he repeats, even softer this time, like a secret meant just for you.

You take a deep breath, trying to absorb his warmth, to hold onto the sense of safety he offers. And even though the pain is still there, even though the emptiness in your chest remains heavy, in this moment, in his arms, you feel something you thought was impossible—just a little bit of peace.

It’s not much. It’s not a miracle cure. But it’s something.

And for now, that’s enough.

[crescentofthegods]

all too familiar

pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

request: cormac gets a little too touchy, but harry finds you just in time.

word count: 2,084

warnings: FLUFF, angsty bc cormac is a DOUCHE, cormac being weird creepy touchy etc, few swear words, not proofread!!, (lowkey suck at warnings pls tell me if i've missed anything)

author's note: OH MY GOODNESSSSS i haven't uploaded anything for like two years straight i sincerely apologise to all of my followers please forgive me. i also apologise to the anon who sent me this request bc i took so long to freaking answer it😭😭😭 feel like this is RUBBISH but i hope you all enjoy! xx

taglist: @floweringrott ♡

masterlist | navigation

THE GREAT LIBRARY had always been a solace to those who required it. Especially to you, who found comfort in the smell of parchment since Hogwarts’ supply seemed to always be fresh. The quiet lull of the area managed to put you in a state of peace too, the way everyone’s voices resounded to whispers and murmurs rather than loud babbles of laughter. There was nothing wrong with laughing, of course—it just happened to be distracting. You were actually waiting for someone, both of you having the intention to study. In front of you was your Potions revision; you were simply making notes on Everlasting Elixirs, taking your ideas from your copy of Advanced Potion Making. Crumbs of strawberry cheesecake lingered on your tongue since you had come straight from lunch, eager to get these done for Slughorn so you could finally rest. Your fingers were clasped around your favourite quill, your spare hand keeping your parchment still as you quickly wrote down every thought your mind was firing at you—

            “There you are!” a voice snapped you out of your reverie, your body going slightly rigid, reluctantly lifting your gaze to see the last person you wanted to converse with. “I’ve been looking all over for you…”

            He never gets the hint, McLaggen. Always stalking following you, always standing outside every room you exit, always loitering too close whenever you’re trying to get back to your House—never taking no for an answer. Everyone knew you as the quiet girl, rarely taking part in things like extracurriculars or school clubs. For the life of you, you could not figure out why Cormac had suddenly become… interested.

            You kept to yourself just because it was a personal preference, you barely had any friends—you were a loner.

            And that was how you liked it. Being a people person had never been your thing entirely.

            But, Cormac didn’t seem to get that.

            “Really?” you replied, your tone almost resembling the bored purrs of your very own tabby cat, who was probably lounging around in your dorm, messing up your pillows…

            How you wished you could be in her position right now.

            “Yeah…? You sound so unsurprised,” he bit his bottom lip, the light of his green eyes dimming when he noticed how quickly you stood up. You almost felt bad… Though, you remembered the way he disgustingly pursued Hermione Granger a few moons back and, fleetingly, shook all feelings of regret from your body; Cormac McLaggen was a creep.

            “Haha, right…” A half-assed chuckle escaped you, clearing your throat as you shoved the remnants of your work into the new satchel messenger bag you bought before beginning sixth year. Discerning the dire, hardened gaze of Cormac falling upon you never failed to make you shudder inside; his eyes were always so intense. So scrutinising. So… unnecessary?

            “So, uh… Potions,” Cormac began, attempting to look unbothered at the sight of you slinging your bag off your shoulder. “Wait—are you leaving already?” A sigh stumbled from your lips, your fingers moving to tuck the shorter strands (the ones that fell from your ponytail) behind the broad space of your ear, praying to Merlin himself for an escape route.

            “Yeah, um, my cat—well, she…” Kill me now. “She’s… alone in my room,” you tried to explain, pushing your chair under the desk you sit at on a regular basis, refusing to even glance Cormac’s way. “And she probably misses me—” His scoff interrupted you, your eyes flitting towards his expression, seeing the smugness in his bemused smile—what the fuck?

            “Your old, moody cat, the one that slumps around every window seat she can find, misses you?” Cormac laughed, his hand cradling his chest like he found himself funny. “This is the first time I’ve heard an excuse like that.” All you did was furrow your eyebrows, confused as to what he was implying.

            “Are you… insulting my cat?” You asked, genuinely perturbed because of his peculiar behaviour. Perhaps you were being a little peculiar yourself, but was this Cormac’s way of flirting? It made no sense whatsoever. Anyhow, your words seemed to knock some sense into the Gryffindor, regret latching onto his countenance. You were quick to turn away, murmuring an almost noiseless ‘excuse me’, speeding walking out of the library like nothing had happened.

            Legs moving as fast as they could, Cormac was right after you—he, annoyingly, had quite the Beater’s build. 

            “Wait! I’m sorry—I wasn’t insulting your bloody cat!” He always seemed to persist, much to your misfortune; Merlin, he was thick in the head. When you turned your head back around, you almost tripped, unable to comprehend how he caught up to you in seconds. “I-I was just saying that your excuse for leaving was rubbish—”

            “I’m just busy, alright, McLaggen?” you brushed him off, trying to muster up a polite smile, but it vanished from your face immediately when Cormac grabbed your arm, roughly pulling you back—a spasm of pain shot up your arm and whilst it only lasted for a moment, it still caused you to freeze, the light in your eyes disappearing entirely.

            The light in his brightened.

            “You don’t seem busy,” Cormac mumbled, his digits firm and enclosed around your flesh like a vice, your gaze lifting to his once again. Why were you always looking up? It made you feel… wrong. Like you were submitting yourself to him. McLaggen.

            He would like that, wouldn’t he?

            “McLaggen,” you said his name, your voice quiet; an eerie sort of quiet. He didn’t say anything, studying you for a moment. Suddenly, you wanted the laughter of those pestering first years, the bellows of the fourth year boys, the giggles of the third year girls to wrap around you like a blanket—you would prefer any sort of noise over the gratingly abnormal silence wafting over the empty hallway.

            The one time I don’t want to be alone.

            “You’re still calling me McLaggen? I thought we were way past formalities,” he uttered (moreso questioned), the Gryffindor’s expression changing to one of irritance, his jaw ticking as he tried to maintain his smile. He looked like he was about to barf all over his new fancy boots his father got him.

            Whatever his father’s name was.

            “Uh… No,” you retorted quite bluntly, irritation overwhelming your expression in response. Who did he think he was? “Now, if you could please let go—”

            “I don’t understand what the problem is, though,” he interjected, again, his perplexity at the situation making you want to explode as you opened your mouth to speak, but Cormac was faster. “I just want to talk. We’re having a conversation and you just walk away?” His grip tightened minutely, but it was enough to make you wince, pain submerging your irritation away.

            “Ow—Cormac, you’re hurting me,” you struggled to remain confident, feeling a sense of dread engulfing your body, your mind, your soul.

            This position was all too familiar. That same thundercloud hovering over your heart, waiting to strike where it hurt the most. Even though it was protected by your lungs, your ribs, your flesh—the thunderclaps were enough to compel the chambers of your core to quake.

            “Oh, don’t be daft,” he mumbled, rejecting your plea. “You’ll live.”

            “Listen, we can talk, but can you just let go—”

            “She said let go.”

            An abrupt, deep voice broke the uncomfortable tension between you and Cormac, his grasp loosening perceptibly since he was caught. Inhaling sharply, you took your chance to rip your arm away from him completely, stepping back, rubbing your arm as your eyes stayed downcast.

            Calm down, calm down, calm down—

            “Potter.” What? Hearing Cormac’s one-word mutter led you to look towards the source of the original voice, your eyebrows crinkling in relief when you saw him.

            Harry.

            You were supposed to meet someone in the library… That someone was Harry. During the course of the year, you had been struggling to keep up with Slughorn’s lessons and Harry, kind as always, offered to help you (you didn’t know about his little cheat notes from the Half-Blood Prince and he intended to keep it that way). However, you had left early because of Cormac… prompting Harry to go look for you.

            “Thank Merlin,” you breathed, your lips pressing together when Cormac turned towards him.

            “We were just talking,” he ‘clarified’, but his words fell on deaf ears.

            “Didn’t look like it,” Harry said simply, and you took this moment to actually examine your friend. He was still in his school robes, of course, the infamous Gryffindor crest plastered upon it. His glasses rested on the crook of his nose, his blue eyes unblinking, fixed on Cormac. Jaw clenched, as was his fists. Lips pressed together in annoyance, unlike yours which were pressed together in embarrassment.

            Embarrassed because you couldn’t believe Harry had found you in this position—unable to fight back.

            You could’ve sworn there was a glint of murderous intent within the emerald hues of his eyes; even from a distance, you noticed everything about Harry.

            “Well, we were,” Cormac stated in his matter-of-fact tone, angering you further—but, Harry had it covered. It genuinely baffled you that they were both in the same House.

            “Oh, just—come off it,” Harry scoffed, pushing past him to get to you—he had been the person you wanted to see at the Great Library.

            Not Cormac McLaggen, but Harry Potter.

            But, why? Even now, as he approached you, you felt those thunderclouds morph into wisps of the sun, warmth blooming in your chest as his fingers delicately brushed over your arm, specifically the bit where Cormac had grabbed you so roughly. For some reason, Harry’s touch didn’t disgust you like Cormac’s did.

            It was because he was your friend… right? You didn’t know Cormac like you knew Harry.

            You didn’t know anyone like you knew Harry.

            “You alright?” He asked softly, his tone changing so he didn’t frighten you further; you weren’t frightened per se, but he knew situations like this made you uncomfortable. Conflict. Arguments. Loud voices…

            All too familiar.

            “Fine,” you murmured in return, grateful for how the pads of his fingers massaged your flesh, the pain which had formerly bloomed now beginning to dissipate. Lowering your gaze, Harry turned his head to see if Cormac was still standing there like a fool.

            Thankfully, the creep took one look at Harry’s six-foot-form and fled the scene, probably wanting to maintain his golden boy reputation. He may have been taller, but Harry—

            Everyone knew what Harry was. Who he was.

            A few moments passed. Both of you just stood in the vacant hallway, your expressions paired with… serenity. You preferred silence. As did Harry, especially with the Dark Lord penetrating his mind every damned hour. You didn’t know when you developed this dynamic with him out of all people—others, girls to be precise, would wonder how you ‘bagged’ the Chosen One, how you managed to get him to pay attention to you.

            But, that was the thing. You didn’t do anything.

            “We were supposed to meet at the library,” Harry spoke, his voice synonymous with the stillness of the atmosphere, his lovely eyes trying to meet yours.

            Eventually, your eyes left the floor, trailing up his uniform—his broad chest; the Adam’s apple of his throat; the sharp contour of his jawline; his rosy-coloured, heart-shaped lips; his hawk nose—and then, finding his two orbs. They reminded you of the sea, his eyes. His black pupils were like jagged basalts, a form of rock, fixed within a circle of the Atlantic. They were quite pretty, actually.

            You preferred them over the dull green of McLaggen’s eyes.

            “I got… sidetracked,” you murmured in return, nibbling your bottom lip as Harry’s hand left your arm—you almost swallowed your disappointment, but you thought too soon, his fingers finding yours instead.

            Intertwined they became.

            “I know,” he whispered. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

            “You couldn’t have known,” you were quick to reply, a little surprised that he was apologising. Yet, Harry simply shook his head, a small, soft smile finding his even softer lips.

            “Actually, I think I did.” You furrowed your eyebrows, having no choice but to follow him as he began the journey back to the library, where you were supposed to be all alone. “I just… had a feeling. You know—when your chest gets all clouded and… your heartbeats start sounding like thunderclaps.”

            Oh.

            Merlin.

            “Mhm…” you hummed, looking away, your cheeks flourishing with delightful shades of red. “All too familiar.”

thank you for reading!

[ask-postcrash-curly]

Here's the deal, Ouroboros. Bite down, or let go. But you can't keep holding on like this.

Sooner or later you'll have to make a choice, or die in a cycle. Always too scared to grasp, too scared to cut loose.

So ever in a perpetual stasis, standing there.

Frozen.

Deep down, you want to bask in the ignorance and bliss of what once was, to remain in the past. You're tightly clinging on what you thought of those you've met, and how those ideals were crushed by the terrible reality of who they actually are.

It's slowly killing you and you don't even realize it, that you've become so numb to the pain they have caused throughout time. Can't even realize that there is a cycle to break.

And in the off chance that you do realize, you have become so tunnel visioned that it's taking a literal cacophony of voices to make you realize the desperate need for change.

Change hurts, but worse things fester for a long time.

First you found respite on our back and forth, but then couldn't stand the constant, constant screaming.

After all, they're always there. In the back of your mind. The dead pixels you were told about.

It's hard not to notice, now right in front and inside you. But they've always been there, haven't they?

We've told you.

Sure, they were easy to ignore, with our backs turned, and our eyes closed. And we tried, we really did. But now that you can't even turn a blind eye to it all, you finally see them. Some day you were going to get fed up with them.

And you did. But with the bad also left the good, and we disappeared.

Now you can't sleep without us... easy to grasp, hard to leave. You gained the inherent need for someone to talk with and be heard without a voice, but it is company at the expense of your morale.

We said tomorrow will be different. Today would be the last day. The last one. The last one and then another. And another, and another, and another...

Every time, you get caught up in the same old venomous spiral inside your head. At one point you'll just have to start hearing:

"Learn to bite down or to let go"

You have to accept that some things are out of your control. It is not easy to cut yourself off from familiarity. It is also not easy to take a risk, or to choose consequences of your own accord.

But it is possible.

It's easy to feel locked into a course of action because it's what you've always done and it's what's expected of you, even if it's detrimental to your well being. It's hard to look at an unfamiliar path and choose to gamble that same well being on the end of it.

You just can't keep this going.

Maybe the idea of biting down sounds self destructive, and letting go being of resignation, but not making the choice is the real fatalistic path. It's continuing to forsake your own agency for a "safety" that is still hurting you, but feels safe because it's familiar.

Biting down and letting go are both active choices to end the cycle, both are positive outcomes.

You bit us down, and we left an unwilling void in our wake. Then came the pleas, so we came back to fill it once again. But accompanied by the dead pixels too, for our collective dismay.

...

Grant.

We will have to be let go one day.

You've got to move in a direction rather than circles, whatever that direction ends up being.

You are eating yourself alive.

I know the quiet is violent, it forces you deal with the raw situation. But we're just a fake screen masking the real issue in between.

We are all afraid of silence. It is terrifying. But we also wish you peace.

You'll have to do it someday Grant.

You will have to do it scared.

Of course I want to remain in the past. The present is an endless fucking nightmare and it's too late to fix anything. Not— not so I can unlearn what I've learned, that wouldn't be fair to her— I don't want that. Can't. No.

...

Why does that sound so familiar? It's true. It's completely true. Never told him off when I saw the signs, never left this job, and I let it become all this. One big old festering wound.

...This isn't the same, though.

You're wrong. It is not at the expense of my morale. I didn't have any morale to lose before you lot came along, do you understand, I wanted nothing more than to die every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month! Death was all I wanted, all I prayed and begged for, when I wasn't too overwhelmed by the pain or drowning in the guilt. That was worse, that was much worse than the damn screaming. I can't go back.

Look. As terrible as things were before the crash, it was better than it is now. Dead pixels, big picture. I was wrong, I know that, but there was a grain of truth, yeah? Before the crash, we at least had the appearance of being fine. We had medical supplies, we were nearly at destination, I wasn't hurt and I could have stepped in, and I didn't but we're not slaves to our past and I could have stepped in at any moment in the future if that wasn't taken from me. It was awful because of the dead pixel in the corner but it wasn't unsalvageable. Couldn't have fixed it, I see that now, but could have kept us moving. There's no repairing the damage, but there's healing. But now? You think this is better? Hah! There's no more dead pixel. The whole damn picture is dead with a few tiny squares of light. And it's unbearable. There is nothing I can do to help her. There is nothing I can do to help myself. Not one of us is better off than we were before.

All this to say, I don't care if the dead pixels remain. Or, well, of course I care, but I'd rather take that than the gaping irreparable damage they leave when you try to smash them out! There's no fixing those things without destroying the whole picture and I can't, I'd rather have a marred picture than no picture and be alone again, yeah?

It isn't the silence I'm afraid of! It's the pain! I can't take my mind off of it without you there! Please, all I'm asking is that you don't leave me alone with it again. You can leave once it stops if you need to but please please I can't stand it. I can't. There is no peace to be found. Having you lot distracting me is the closest thing I can get to peace. It was awful, all right? That's what I'm scared of the most, being trapped in that again, it was the worst thing I've ever experienced and it went on so long and I can't do it again, I'll do anything if you don't let me go back there again, please, please.

And if I fall back in again, with you gone, how can I let it out? I can't scream, I can't cry, that's been taken from me already. You are all I have to take it out of my mind and have anyone at all understand. There's no form of expression I have left.

I AM DOING IT SCARED! I'M FUCKING TERRIFIED, OKAY? I'VE BEEN SCARED ALL THIS TIME!

...

Sorry. I'm so sorry.

Just— please. I don't care how self-destructive you think this is. All choice in my life has been stripped from me. The one thing I have left in which I have any form of agency is the conversations I have with you and I can't lose them. I believe that you want to help me and if you do please just stay a while longer, just until I'm safe and it doesn't hurt and I can communicate again, please, I can't do this alone I'd rather die right now than go back to doing this alone, and that was when I had painkillers that worked and that was before he hit me and I can't I can't there's no way out except you all. I won't hold on forever, just until it doesn't hurt, yeah? Just— just let me hold on until it doesn't hurt, please.

[g0ddyke]

Actually nah fuck that post. No hate to the person who wrote it, this shit *is* hard. But you WILL find people that love you. You will find people that love you in the secret third way and they will support you and they will make you feel whole. You will find your community both in fleeting connections and long lasting friendships. You will find love in so many places. Yes, the world is scary and cruel and unpredictable, and people won't always hold space for you, but there will always be people who will and there will always be people who will love you so much more than you ever thought anyone would, and they will love you on your terms.

And better yet - you can be that person for someone else. You can love your friends unapologetically, without expectation. You can support them and hold them close to your heart and tell them how much they Matter. you can do all of this for the people you love, including yourself. Being aromantic doesn't mean locking yourself away from intimacy and connection. You don't have to reluctantly accept romance to receive it. There is a place for you here - you just need to live long enough to find it.