#make sure to contact anyone you can about this

[chosolar]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

part 1

mdni please! there are sexual themes.

flirty!satoru did his best to respect your wishes but he was losing his mind. with each day passing where he didn't hear from you, his overthinking got worse. what happened for you to distance yourself from him seemingly out of nowhere?

flirty!satoru refused to go out of his penthouse unless it was severely urgent. he would get his groceries delivered or ask either suguru or shoko to buy it for it. The two tried their best to get him to at least walk around his complex but satoru would drag his body weight, making it difficult to even get him up. it got to a point where shoko threatened him that she was going to tell you how disgusting he was being. (as mean as it was, it sure got the job done)

flirty!satoru had his phone basically glued to his hand. constantly refreshing his feeds and checking everyone's stories to see if you would be there in the background. it was his only solace, seeing you happy even if he did feel like he was there was a boulder on his chest that made him feel suffocated.

flirty!satoru who sat up instantly the millisecond he got your text. it didn't matter that it was 2 in the morning, he was responding to your message ASAP.

hey satoru I hope you're doing well. is it alright if I call you? 2:33 am

he replied with a quick "yes of course", and he didn't care if he sounded desperate, because well, he was. he's been waiting for you to reach out ever since he got that text a few weeks ago.

his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest, each heartbeat thumps harder than the previous. he watches as his phone lights up with your contact photo and name, the ringtone blasting. within the second ring, he picks up, greeting you with a shaky voice.

"hi satoru," he hears your nervousness through the phone. your voice is nasally and he can make out the soft sniffling, but he stays quiet. "how have you been?"

satoru contemplated on what to say. should he be honest, or should he lie and say that he was doing well without you?

"better now that I can hear your voice." his heart rate sped up as he hears you soft laugh, "how about you?"

you sigh before you answer. "I'm in a dilemma to be honest."

"wanna tell me what it's about?" he urges, hoping he'll get the answer he's been looking for. satoru puts you on speaker and lets his phone drop onto his bed, his full undivided attention on you.

"well it's about you... kinda," you drift off before you continue. "the night before I sent you that text, I was working and someone asked me out."

satoru pleads in silence that this was not going where he thinks it's going. with this anxious feeling creeping up on him again, he doesn't say anything.

his uncommon reticence worries you but you carried on with the story.

"I didn't go out with him if that's what you're thinking of. I like you too much to do that. it just had me thinking because we spent months being more than friends, but am I the only one who feels that way?"

"no of course not!" satoru retorts, "I promise that it's not one-sided. why do you feel this way?"

it took you a few minutes to gather your thoughts, but satoru doesn't rush you. he hears a shaky exhale before you speak up, "I've noticed that you're flirty with everyone. you're not shy with touching other people and it just makes me feel like maybe it's wrong of me to feel special when I'm not the only one you've done these things with..."

flirty!satoru doesn't invalidate your feelings. he acknowledges each and every reason why you feel the way you do. satoru takes his time explaining that yes, he may be flirty and he's quite touchy, but it's different when it comes to you. the things he's done with you, he's never done with anyone else despite him having exes. although it's almost been a year since he's met you, the butterflies have never gone away and that each day his feelings grow.

flirty!satoru continues listing all the reasons why he loves likes you. he assures you that he may look like a fuckboy, he's far from it. he reminisces the time he had suguru psych him up to get your number because he's never had to ask for anyone's number (humble brag from him). he exhales a sigh of relief that the story earned a giggle from you.

flirty!satoru debates on telling you, but decided on keeping his plans of asking you out a secret. he wanted to prove to you that you're it for him and that there's no one else but you. satoru's big on actions speaking a lot more than words, so before he asks you out, he wants you to feel secure.

flirty!satoru posts you on his story constantly!!! whether you're out on a grocery run or a mini road trip for the long weekend, you can always count on satoru posting a soft launch story that has you in it. you don't know it, but satoru also has a secret instagram account, and the only thing he posts on it are pictures of you with the dates on it and a small paragraph of what you guys did that day. he likes to think it's modern-day scrapbooking.

flirty!satoru is obsessed with calling you nicknames, and as much as he loves saying your name - he will never not love calling you sweet nicknames like pretty girl, honey, or baby. satoru's fond of how your cheeks turn red and how you try to cover your face when he calls you any nicknames. it gives him cuteness aggression so bad, he ends up pinching your cheeks!

flirty!satoru can see how your eyes drift to look at his lips when you're talking to him face to face. you think you're so slick with it but satoru's quicker. whenever you do that little triangle trick you saw on tiktok, he leans in so he catches you by surprise. he observes with gleaming eyes as you back up to give yourself distance from him, but he just wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him as he says, "hmm what was that baby?"

flirty!satoru has to hold himself back whenever he sees a customer come up to you and try to flirt with you. first and foremost, flirting is his thing! and second, he gets so jealous that sometimes he can't contain himself and ends up intervening. he'd make some stupid excuse to get you to leave like "hey I think someone clogged the toilet, can you check it please?" or something like that. you have to clean the stinky toilet but seeing satoru jealous is always a plus.

flirty!satoru is shocked when you made the first move and kissed him one night. it was the fact that you were sober too that surprised him even further. with you on top of him as he's sitting relaxed on the couch, his attention on the tv screen is stolen when you press your lips against his. the kiss, a seemingly innocent peck on the lips, turned into a heated make out session when satoru let go of his inhibitions. his hands roamed all over your body as his lips continue peppering kisses onto your cheeks, your jaw, and even down to your neck. satoru trails his hands from your body to hold your face gently so he can give you a final kiss before hugging you tightly.

flirty!satoru throws out all his ideas of asking you out, and opts for an intimate moment. on a cool wednesday night, he takes you back to his penthouse as per usual. he opens the door and waits to see your surprised face. he boasts that he decorated the place all by himself and even burned himself a few times with the hot glue gun to make the giant heart sign asking for you to be officially his (ngl it sounds like he's proposing but I mean who doesn't wanna marry satoru). obviously you said yes! let's just say that the heart balloons that were hanging and the flower petals scattered all over his living room were everywhere the morning after and cleaning it all up was tedious...... (but at least it was a fun night!)

flirtybf!satoru immediately changes all his profile pictures on every social media he has to pictures with you. his bio? your initials. his stories? all of you. he does not gaf he wants to show you off! the best part is satoru only follows a couple of people — you, suguru, shoko, and a few of his close relatives. satoru wants you to know that he only cares about you and only you. he never wants to and never will make you feel like you're in competition with anyone.

flirtybf!satoru is a no bs type of guy. now that your relationship was out in the open, you've gotten so many dms from other people trying to sabotage your relationship. satoru did not spend almost half a year proving his love to you for some jealous losers to try and break it, so he blocked the people who dmed you from his account and privated it.

flirtybf!satoru loves going on vacations with you, especially if it's a destination you've been telling him about. he'll almost always keep it a secret so that you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything. costs, booking it off, transportation, he takes care of everything so the only thing you need to do is pack your bags. satoru loves how carefree you are when you're away from everyone else, and it's just the two of you in your own little world.

flirtybf!satoru is insatiable. his sex drive is so incredibly high, you wonder where his stamina comes from since he rarely did any sports. the first time you had sex, he wanted to take it slow because he wanted to savour the time with you. even though you were close when you two were just friends, having sex was a different level of intimacy. satoru wanted to show you that to him, this was not just a fuck that a one night stand will give you, no. it was making love, and he'll spend the whole night — dusk to dawn — just to show you how much he loves each and every part of you.

flirtybf!satoru started working out during his free time. he overheard you telling your friends that you love a man with a sleeper build, and well whatever his love wants, you will get. it doesn't take long until he starts seeing the fruits of his labor. he seldoms wear a shirt when he's home with just you, choosing to just wear a pair of sweatpants that he doesn't bother tying up so you can see the waistband of his calvin klein boxers. even though you two fuck often, he thinks it's so captivating that you still get bashful whenever he's being coy with you.

flirtybf!satoru loves talking about the future with you. he'll often ask you what kind of house you see yourself living in with him, and he'll make sure to get every little detail you're telling him. you've already moved into his penthouse after he begged for days for you to leave your apartment and just live with him. he takes notice of how you decorate and makes a mental note of it. satoru will make sure to say "when we have kids" or "when we're married", because he knows you're his endgame and he just can't wait for the day he's been looking forward to since he fell in love with you.

flirtybf!satoru surprises you with a trip to your dream vacation that you guys didn't get to go to before. the weather was horrendous, so the flight was cancelled but satoru booked another one closer to your birthday. he didn't tell you about it because he had a plan to make your birthday extra special. after you were done packing, he tells you that he'll meet you in the car. before satoru leaves the penthouse and locks the door, he double checks that the engagement ring is packed securely in his bag.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hi everyone! I hope this satisfies everyone's request for a part 2 ◡̈ ngl I had to use some moments with my boyfriend because my mind was blanking out and I am prayinggggg that this one is not a disappointment to you guys! again not proofread <3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

taglist:

@lvrndkoo @sorenflyinn @realalpacorn @ninani-nanina @msun1c0rn @ourfinalisation @rio-reid-whoreee @staarflowerr @leonesimp @okayiamkassandra @starpachinko @atashiboba @blueemochii @hawkswifie @secrtjncoblog @esperssox @smiling-16

a few of them did not show up so please let me know if you didn't get a notification ◡̈

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Unfortunately it's the Daily who broke this story, so I'm torn between "this is a rightwing gossip rag known for wholesale lying" and "the thing is this does track with my knowledge of detainee culture in usa prisons and detention centers"

Like, the history of political prisoners includes a GREAT DEAL of documented resistance from within prisons by the people suffering detention. It is both a way of asserting power in a system that severely restricts individual and communal autonomy, and a way of performing activism and advocacy from within authoritarian suppression.

The message of ensuring a political prisoner is well-groomed and styled is two-fold: 1) ensure they are able to show up in court with as much visibly communicated shared humanity with the "jury of peers" as possible, thus reducing the risk of state neglect and abuses influencing jury opinion on the prisoner, and 2) communicate clearly to everyone within the judicial system that powerful underground systems of solidarity and care have their eyes firmly trained on this person's well-being, and anything that happens to them will be taken as a severe act of aggression against that system of solidarity and care.

This may feel conspiracy minded, but it's important to remember that while we rarely hear about prison riots on the outside, every prison protest from the famous and historic Attica Uprisings to the recent Uprisings in North Carolina after they were abandoned in a flooded and lethal prison during Hurricane Helene in 2024 is an extension of this internal system of care. The battles fought are intentional and based in the risk/reward calculations of allowing a certain precedent to be set by hegemonic forces/systems.

It would not be an acceptable precedent for them to kill or harm Mangione in prison, nor to railroad his trial. People in a prison may not have much control over what happens to Mangione once he leaves the facility they know how to navigate. But they can certainly send a message to the outside world "if you harm this man, you invite a war"

Regardless of whether Mangione is guilty, innocent, convicted, pardoned, declared innocent, whatever, he is a political and politicized prisoner. That makes him an effective method of access and communication to the outside world. And that makes him someone worth protecting even on top of everything else that may already motivate his fellow prisoners to look out for him.

Basically: I'm not sure if the fade specifically is that message (although several former inmates/inmate activists online have disclosed they believe it IS), but it's clear that message is being communicated intentionally all the same.

I do think it's particularly interesting to me that people may have been imagining a world in which it would ever be realistic for prisoners to assault or harm Mangione. Regardless of HOW they communicated it, this message of solidarity from prisoners is both expected by anyone involved in prison resistance, and was practically announced to the whole world on live news by the detainees in Mangione's facility some time ago

"Luigi's conditions suck" is a very clear intro to "and we're angry enough about it to make sure the whole world can hear us"

If anyone is finding themselves surprised by these ideas or curious to understand better why people are talking about this and why they're making the assertions they do, I highly recommend reading some examples of prison letters and texts written by historic political prisoners and civil rights leaders. Letter from a Birmingham Jail is one of the most famous of these, but there are TONS and they're really fascinating insights into the complex community organizing of prison resistance. Angela Davis wrote prolifically in prison, including her work "If They Come in the Morning" and others. The Marshall Project also receives and directs letters from prisoners by the thousands and have collected some of the themes in the writing they receive from every day prisoners here, you'll find a lot of overlap.

Former prisoners & COs reveal that Luigi's new look was likely done by fellow inmates & is a symbol to show that they support & protect him.🥺🥺 ❤️ Huge blow to all the haters who for weeks have been fantasizing about Luigi getting assaulted in prison. lol

[labelneo]

SQUID GAME HEADCANON: he gets jealous 🍬

WARNING: toxic/suggestive themes

INHO ★ likes it when you make him jealous, he just won’t admit it out loud. likes the idea of someone flirting with you so that he can do the work to show you who you belong to again. would watch you silently from afar at first, leaning back into his seat as he watched you. would walk up to you confidently, stand next to you, greet whoever it is you’re talking to, and then lean into your ear. tells you he’ll deal with you later for letting someone flirt with you. kisses your temple before walking away. will remind you that you only belong to him once the two of you get back home.

THE SALESMAN ★ won’t say anything in the moment, but is watching everything that is happening. shoots daggers from across the room, making chills run down your spine. after you’re done talking to whoever it was you were talking to, he would make you sit in his lap, making sure they were watching as he touched you up and down. afterwards, when the two of you are alone, he grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him. asks you what you think you were doing with whoever it is you were talking to. doesn’t like it when you act confused to avoid the confrontation. gets close to your face and pulls you towards him, telling you that you need to learn how to behave.

DAEHO ★ heart literally drops to his stomach when he hears someone else making you laugh. would go stand next to you, trying to indiscreetly pull you away from the other person. would pull at your waist and nudge your sides until you eventually leave. hugs your waist and stays by your side the entire time until the conversation ended. doesn’t hesitant to pull you away quickly once he realizes the conversation was over. until would ask you “who is that” and pout regardless of the answer you gave him. doesn’t talk to you afterwards because he’s too busy sulking. would only forgive you when you gave him enough kisses to kiss his pout away.

JUNHO ★ wraps his arm possessively around your waist, making straight eye contact with whoever it is that you’re interacting with. he’s not one to make a big deal, but he’s not going to not do anything. stares coldly at the other person until they get uncomfortable and leave. gives you a quick kiss as a way to act nonchalant about what just happened, but tells you your attention belongs to him and that you shouldn’t be giving it to anyone else. acts like the incident isn’t bothering him anymore, but keeps his hold on you for the rest of the day, wanting to make sure everyone knows you are his and only his.

THANOS ★ stands behind you with his arms around your waist and starts asking who you’re talking to. ignores all the introductions and just starts kissing your neck in front of them, not caring about making anyone uncomfortable. likes to see your face get all shy before you excuse yourself. only gets more and more grabby as the two of you walk away. isn’t bothered even if you tell him that his actions make you feel embarrassed and simply just tucks your hair behind your ear while telling you how cute you are when you get all flustered by him. just shrugs it off and tells you he doesn’t care because he isn’t afraid about letting people know that your his.

MYUNG GI ★ scoffs while he watches you interact with the person. pretends like it doesn’t bother him, but after a while, he gets up and walks over to you and introduces himself. makes sure to let them know who is to you before pulling you away. gives you the silent treatment even when you whine for him to talk to you. eventually gives in because he can’t keep being upset with you, especially when you keep kissing his face as an apology. realizes he just doesn’t like the idea of sharing you and your attention in any way because he just wants for you to be all his.

Read More Here!

TAGLIST: @ninglovr @okaycharr @ilovequeen978 @vinaluvsu @shimochibun @sunshiines-stuff

[karikarasuno]

shouto has your schedule memorized. accidentally of course, but it's ingrained in his head. for example, you’re always three minutes late. and you’re always carrying an obscene amount of things in your arms. today you’re holding a plastic tote that seems to have cupcakes inside– or maybe they’re muffins– along with a water bottle, a coffee mug, two bags, and your lunch box. he wants to offer to help, but instead he watches you. 

your first stop is always the break room. his eyes follow you until you disappear behind a corner. you’re wearing a dress today that hits right above your knees and boots that stop just below them. he rather enjoys when you wear dresses, only ever wearing them on fridays, when the dress code is more lax and you can incorporate more of your personal style. you wear colors. it is the only source of anything bright or cheerful in the office. 

aside from your office itself. it’s stationed right beside his. music is always trickling out beneath the cracks of the door and the soft smell of chamomile wafts around its four walls. he only recognizes the smell because he had a meeting with you in there to discuss some reports your department was in charge of and he noticed a small diffuser on your bookshelf with a chamomile essential oil beside it.

it’s rare that you’re ever alone together. even rarer that it’s somewhere as intimate as your office. it’s littered with things that are so innately you. that’s how he learned your favorite color is green. and that you have a vast assortment of teas organized in a wooden box on your desk. 

you always offer to make him a cup. he always declines, but the offer alone warms him from the inside. 

“morning , shouto,” you say, popping your head through his open door and smiling. his cheeks warm at the expression. he really never tires of looking at you.

“good morning,” his voice cracks, so he clears it as he sits up in his chair. when you step inside his office, the smell of your perfume hits him. it’s sweet like vanilla, but paired with something deeper, almost earthy. he tries not to close his eyes and relish in it. 

“so i made these vanilla chai muffins last night and cooked about a dozen too many,” you say, hand holding out a muffin on a napkin towards him. “would you like one?” 

he’s not even sure if he likes chai but he takes it anyway. because he likes you. your fingers are warm when they brush his. he wonders what it would be like to hold them. since his have a tendency to run cold –his right side more so than his left. but he imagines how comforting it would be. and then he remembers you’re still standing in front of his desk. expectantly. 

“thank you,” he says, assuming that’s what you’re waiting for.

“You’re welcome,” you respond sweetly, still standing patiently on the other side of his desk. there’s a moment of exchanging stares. heat rises and settles beneath his collar. your eye contact always unsettled him. but because it always felt like you were staring deeper into his soul than anyone he’s ever met. he never knows how to respond to it, other than glancing away.

you laugh, breathless and amused. “i want you to try it.”

“right now?”

“mhm,” you hum with a nod to emphasize your answer. 

“why?” he asks before thinking, but not in offense, purely because he's curious as to why you would want to watch him try something.

“because i want to know if you like it, and it's easier to tell if you’re lying if i see you take your first bite,” you joke, hands adjusting the bags that are still on your shoulder since you’ve yet to stop by your office. 

“oh ok,” he says, the heat below his collar beginning to escape up his neck. he pauses before he takes a bite, the muffin just an inch away from his lips. he feels your eyes on him intently. eager. And his nerves are starting to fester beneath his skin. 

his bite is bigger than he intends to be. nearly eating half of the muffin in one go. he hears you suppress a giggle, your eyes alight with amusement when he glances up at you with a mouth full of the pastry you made. he’s taken aback by how pretty you look at that moment. the sun peeking through his slanted blinds, not fully open, but wide enough to cast you in light that makes you appear quite heavenly. he never knows what to do with his feelings. an infatuation or maybe a crush or maybe something deeper. he didn’t know. not when you looked at him. not when you smiled at him. not when you touched him. 

all he knows is that he wants to keep your eyes on him, your smile directed towards him, and your hands always on him. 

“so?” you prompt, taking an anticipatory step closer to him. that’s when he remembers to chew. the flavor surprises him, sweet but spicy. light and not too sugary. it’s good, delicious even. he wonders how you can be so good at everything. or maybe he simply just likes everything that you do.  

“it’s really good,” he says, once he finally swallows his overindulgent bite. Your smile widens, probably deciding that he’s not lying, before tilting your head in that pretty way you always do and saying “glad you like it.”

he doesn’t get a chance to respond before you're exiting his office, somehow taking the life right out of it and back with you. the sun even dims in your absence. 

10:45 am on the dot and you’re walking past his office. it’s your scheduled tea time. he’s sure he’s the only one in the office that has noticed it. but every day at the same time you walk by with a mug and head for the break room. it’s where you keep your electric kettle. also in the color green.

today, again, you pause by his open door. he drops his pen in surprise. “i’m gonna make some tea.”

he simply stares. you smile again. and his heart stutters. “do you want some?”

“what kind do you have?” the question surprises even him.

“all kinds,” you respond cheekily.

“what’s your favorite?” 

“caffeinated or non-caffeinated?”

“non-caffeinated.”

“i’ll surprise you,” you wink, head tilting again in that way he really appreciates and this time his breathing gets stuck somewhere in his chest. 

When you return this time it’s with two mugs, both with heavy plumes of steam whirling above them. 

“careful,” you say as you set it down before him, “it’s really hot.”

“what is it?” he asks, smelling over the lip instinctively. 

“peppermint,” you answer.

[okwonyo]

PARTITION ꣑୧ 이희승

𝖲𝖢𝖤𝖭𝖠𝖱𝒾𝖮 ✴︎ 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌.

【 備考 】 academic rival!heeseung & fem!rea 11OO high school au fluff ( ˵ˊᯅˋ˵ ) tension flirting

じや ⠀⦂⠀for hana banana bby @yeokii

reblogs ────── ㅤㅤ✿︎ㅤㅤ ︎ㅤㅤ︎ㅤclick

this isn’t how you imagined your day to end. it wasn’t what you imagined when you woke up this morning. this isn’t how you planned your evening nor this definitely wasn’t what you thought would happen.

but, you admit that it is nice. well— from your point of view. spending some time with the boy you spent you entire year competing, fighting to get better grades, is nice. even if it’s because you both got told to clean the classroom as a punishment.

it might see weird. it would be weird, if it wasn’t for the fact that your heart flatter at the mention of his name alone.

being here with him makes you happy.

the sun shining behind the classroom’s windows makes the winter cold weather more bearable. it reflects on the tables in the room, the rays follow a precise trajectory— from the sky to the boy at the opposite of the room. you try to not stare too much, but you admit that you let yourself peek over at him from time to time.

the silence is quite deafening. you and him never talked much about anything that wasn’t school related. even then, you just tell each other who will top the other in the school’s ranks.

it’s during a time where you are not looking that his voice reaches you, making your blood stop in your veins, your heart jumps.

“why did you do that?” heeseung’s eyes don’t leave the floor he is cleaning as he asks. unlike you, he doesn’t stop in his frenetic movements.

your gape at him. saying that you are confused is an understatement, “what?”

this time, heeseung stops. taking a deep breath as he leans the sweep in his hand against the wall. watching him close his eyes and slide his hands in his pockets makes heat rise in your body.

his steps lead him to you when he opens his eyes again. how he presents himself in the decelis uniform distracts you so much, you don’t realize how close he is getting to you.

your eyes are fixated on the red and grey cravat. you wonder how he makes it seem so much more attractive that it looks on anyone else.

“the reason we are here in the first place,” you feel something in your stomach when he speaks again. he has gotten so close, you have to tilt your head up to see him properly.

the memory of what happened a few hours prior makes you look away in embarrassment. you bite your lip nervously as the image of him finding out about that appears in your brain.

still, you decide to feign pure ignorance, “i don’t know what you are talking about.”

you still don’t look at him as he gets closer, making you walk backwards. he doesn’t say anything for a while but you can feel his stare— although your gaze is fixated on the floor beside you.

he calls your name, still stepping closer. you look at the floor then at your other side, carefully avoiding any eye contact, “don’t lie to me, please.”

the way his body language contrasts with how pleading he sounds is utterly attractive.

“i know how smart you are,” he continues, praising you as his body oppresses your own. he corners you between a table and his tall frame as he continues, “so smart. i am sure you wouldn’t do bad on a question as simple as it was.”

your breath catches as he leans forward. he is obviously waiting for an answer but you can’t find enough strength in yourself to come up with one.

heeseung is so close. so much that his hands are on the furniture behind you, each one next to your hips. he is straight up jailing you with his body. you can’t breathe, you can’t escape.

“why did you write an wrong answer on purpose?” he explicit his question, even if he knows you understood it already. what you don’t really comprehend is how he expects you to say anything when he is so close. “c’mon, look at me.”

you take a moment before obliging. his eyes have never been this wide before. so lovely, so demanding. you want to melt.

and before you can stop yourself, your heart speaks for you, “i thought you would like it.”

it is like the world stops as soon as you talk. his eyes grow a tad wider— mirroring his surprise. it is definitely not what he was expecting, you can see it all over his face.

but heeseung is smart, not smarter than you are, but smarter than most. it takes him a few seconds to realize what you truly meant by that.

to be frank, you did think he’d prefer a girl that wasn’t like you. you still think the same, maybe if you weren’t always competing and winning against him, he’d see you for something else than a rival.

that’s the kind of girl he is usually seen with. girls that praise him.

heeseung for sure doesn’t think the same.

he leans back, finally letting you out of the jail he made. you can finally breathe properly, your chest heaves and relax— nervousness finally leaving your body.

it comes back like a boomerang. when you look at heeseung again. he is still close to you, way too close and the way he looks at you isn’t pleading anymore.

he doesn’t seem displeased by what he found out. not at all. he seems to like it a bit too much.

he tilts his head to the side, a grin growing on his face. it annoys a lot, how easy he can make you blush with his antics.

“it is what this is about?” he chuckles, now almost smirking down at you. he gets leans towards you again, his face a few inches away from yours. his breath is on your mouth and it makes you so warm all over. but you can’t look away from this beautiful sight.

“you are smart,” he praises again. butterflies in your stomach, you swear you might be doing heart eyes right now. “much smarter than i am and i find it hot,” you feel the need to lick your lips slightly when his gaze falls on them. “really hot, i don’t need you to make me feel smarter to like you.”

you can’t say anything back. your throat is well too dry to even think of it.

he keeps getting closer, his mouth brushes yours, “you are the only girl who challenges me and,” he is almost there. “i love it.”

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[valentine-cafe]

hello (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

I'm sure ur inbox is probably brimming with requests rn, so I'm just gonna slip this in and u can take ur time with it!

[Top male] reader who's usually gentle in bed but had to go through a day full of misfortune that got him stressed, and he channels that into pounding the characters hard? When he comes back to himself, he feels so guilty and remains minimal contact with the characters for a few days. (⁠>⁠▽⁠<⁠)

The orders will be tiramisu, affogato and croissant! though, I'm not sure if the characters fit the prompt so feel free to change them out for another. (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

And if I haven't lost your interest, may I be so blunt to ask to take up the 📖 anon? If that isn't taken, of course.

Thank you dearly! ♡

˖⁺. “ stress fuck ! ” : 

﹙ multi bttm m. characters x frustrated top male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . various bttm male characters !! 🍒 : 

you're typically so gentle with him . . . but after a bad day - you can't help but come back and fuck him senseless 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ penetrative sex ˖ rough sex ˖ degradation ˖ some angst | wc : 1.8k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: here you go! hope you enjoy this! and of course you can be our 📖 anon <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ���

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He prefers it rough. Prefers his eyes rolled back into his skull and nails dragged down your back. Prefers the loud slapping and lewd moans pouring through the room as you manhandle him. Him. A 6’7”, highly trained mercenary. Have you any idea how fucking hot that is?

So when you were pounding away at his tight ass and spewing your degradation to his ear. Well, let’s just say that your cock ramming up his prostate was not the only thing sending him to cloud nine. The very notion that his soft-as-a-feather boyfriend was using him as a cocksleeve was enough to have him creaming all over himself.

Your hands left bruises on his olive skin. Ones that took his breath away when he looked at the mirror the morning after. His throat whispered memories of your tight grip stealing his breath away. Making him cling. Making him keen.

And then. . . you went distant. What the hell was that all about?

Alessio has never been good at no contact. Not texting you goodnight drives him insane as is. So don’t be too surprised when he’s crawling through your window at some ungodly hour to find out what the hell is going on.

“You - feel bad for fucking me?”

His half-hung eyes are wide for once. Before his hands grab at your shoulders and hoist you in. “You’re kidding right? Baby - I loved it.”

The puppy-eyed look he gives you is enough to melt your stubbornness. You sheepishly explain the entire situation and behold his frown. It doesn’t take much more until his arms are around you and toppling your body into the plush of couch cushions.

“No seas idiota.” ( “Don’t be an idiot” ) he huffs into your neck that he nuzzles up. “I just want you to do what you need, amore. None of that. Especially not for giving me the night of my life, yeah?” He pulls back to stare you down and then gives you a little peck when you nod.

﹙ Vespasiano 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : It’s no secret that Vespasiano has almost always been on the giving end in a relationship. Not to mention his lack of experience when it comes to men — so he’s still growing accustomed to being with you. His lovely boyfriend. Who also tops him. With that in mind, he quite appreciates your gentle hands and tender pace whenever he finds himself beneath you.

With that being said, he didn’t mind getting his ass ploughed that night you came home full of huffs and tensions. Even with his shock when you had suddenly buried your hand into his hair and forced his head into the pillows. When you started grunting and calling him a whore - splitting him open and making his eyes roll back.

He doesn’t thin anyone has ever fucked him out so much before. You got him to whine. Got him to whimper. Stutter and tell you it’s too much. Him. A man of his age, his experience.

The morning after, while the ache in his body and the realisation of what occurred still left him shocked, pleasure bubbled over his entire being. That felt. . . amazing.

Then came your distance. Anxiety swelled in his chest all over again. He can’t handle that. He’s dealt with it too many times from his ex wife. This sends him right back to the panic of uncertainty. Did he do something wrong? Were you mad at him?

He’s not going to bother with calling. He knows it never gets anywhere. So he’s showing up to your doorstep with big eyes while trying to keep it all together.

“Tesoro. . . did I do something? Talk to me, please.”

He’s collapsing into you before you know it. The guilt in your heart has you spilling everything which leaves him confused through his endless kisses all over your face.

“Too rough? Please. Do you think ‘m glass? I’m sixty-six, baby.” He’s chuckling against your ear despite his shaky demeanor. Cupping at your face and letting out a soft croon. “Nonsense. Is it new? Yeah. Do I hate it? Fuck no.”

He hooks you onto his lap soon after and shoots you a look of concern. “If anything I’m more worried ‘bout that bad day of yours. Won’t you talk to me?”

 

﹙ Jìngyí 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He’s so used to his tender and gentle loverboy that the second you had him pinned down to the marble kitchen counter and fucking him to delirium — he almost thought he was dreaming.

He’s so accustomed to whispering sweet nothings to your ear, telling you how good you are, what a great job you’re doing. The last thing he expected was to have that replaced by your ragged voice muttering curses rough praises to his neck. Your nails clawing down his skin. Your hands making use of his flexible, snake-like body. With coils, pins, rough handles all over.

With all his work stress, of course he was all for you fucking him dumb and limp into the sheets. What he could not understand, however, was the sudden distance you put up after the morning of softness. Where he clung to you and murmured how much you had completely wrecked him the night before.

Good luck trying to remain distant from Mister Zhao, however. You’d find yourself confronted the second you avoided his call to check on your wellbeing.

He’s at your workstep before you can so much as blink. Pulling you off somewhere quiet and giving you a look through those amber, slitted eyes of his that told you to talk. Truthfully.

“You know how much I hate being ignored. . . sweetheart, what is the matter?”

All you can do is break when his tender hand caresses your face. Thumb rubbing below your eye while you sniffle over your rough day. How it resulted in you taking it out on him —- how bad you felt about it.

You catch his narrow-eyed stare. The look of disbelief and concern that melted through the prior irritation from your avoidance. He’s pulling you into his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin with a small frown.

“Silly boy. . . if I had an issue with it, do you not think I would have stopped you? Please, take it easy on yourself.”

You’ll have a quiet and calm day with him throughout. Anything to show you that he is fine, and so are you.

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭 

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Can we get more hurt reader for Quinn to care for pretty please with 🍒s ontop?

I think it's about time I get the reader to a game, don't you?

Nothing could beat the energy of a sold out Canucks game.

Tonight was poised to be a tight game against the Atlantic Division's Toronto Maple Leafs and the hometown boys. You had made the plans weeks ago to attend the game, but none of your friends were available to go, so you were going solo. It hadn't been the first time sitting with no one to talk to in the stands, as there was always someone to strike up a conversation with, argue a wrong call over, or heckle one of the visiting players with. You wouldn't be without company that night.

Things had started off fast paced, with Quinn scoring the first puck mid-way through the opening period. It was always special getting to see him score in person, hearing the fans cheer for their beloved captain, and also with you being able to join them as just another fan. No one knew who you were; best as anyone else knew, you were just another girl in a Quinn Hughes jersey, and that was enough.

The players would take their positions back at center ice and Vancouver would lose the faceoff, and play would move into the Canucks' territory. Defensively, they seemed to be struggling to get a turnover and multiple shots would be deflected by Demko before the puck would get back to the neutral zone. However, it would get tipped and go up and out of play, with Toronto trying to return back to the offensive zone. You had been guilty of watching Quinn instead of where the puck was and that would be your downfall that night.

At first, you thought the guy sitting next to you had clocked you in the side of the head by accident. It wasn't after you heard a kid yell, "Get it! Get the puck! I want it!" that you were able to discern that you had missed the rogue puck sailing towards you and that had been what had your head spinning. That was your last, straightforward thought.

The rows behind you, who had seen the contact be made, gasped collectively and several reacted around you to make sure you were alright. Your ears were ringing, and you weren't quite sure where you were as you slumped forward and to the side, nearly slipping out of your seat. Everything was getting hazy and your vision was fading out. Your head had never hurt so bad in your life.

"Yeah, I need medical to section 116", you heard the usher radio in, your eyes slowly opening. Everything was too bright, too loud, and you were dizzy. There was a towel placed to the left side of your head and the throbbing felt like someone was hitting you with a hammer repeatedly. "Ma'am, try to stay still, please. We're going to get someone to help you."

You gritted your teeth against the sound of the packed arena and how it aggravated your brain, and you had to keep your eyes closed against the harsh lights above. All you wanted to do was slip away into sleep.

"We're going to help you up, okay? Are you good to stand?" A woman's voice asked you, feeling gentle pressure to your upper right arm. Slowly, you'd turn your face towards her and nod. "Okay, gently now. Go slow for me, okay? We're going to make sure you don't fall. "

You bit your lip as you made your way to the aisle, still holding the towel to your face. "Still doing alright?" She asked again once you were up and out of the seats. After you nodded, she'd change her hold to your left arm and slowly, you'd be escorted up the stairs as clapping would follow you as a sendoff.

"We have an ambulance coming around to take you to the hospital and get you checked out."

You couldn't focus on anything and just kind of mumbled at whatever it was she was saying, and since she and no one else around was frantic, you remained calm despite being told you were going to the hospital in an ambulance. Sure enough, you'd be strapped to the stretcher in the lobby, a neck brace fastened in place, and wheeled into the awaiting transport out front. Everyone was so kind to you, but there was one person you couldn't get off your mind. You hoped Quinn hadn't noticed it was you who had been hit by the puck, but if he had, you wished it wouldn't interfere with his playing for the remainder of the game.

- - -

It would be after the game clock ran out before you'd be done with your visit at the hospital.

You had a series of stitches above your left eye and a concussion, but otherwise you were fine. The Canucks had won the game which was a relief to you, because what kind of fan would you had been if you didn't feel like whatever you did --or had caused-- had directly affected the game? Wore the wrong jersey and they lost? Your fault. Changed your order from your usual pre-game selection and they lost? Also your fault, and yours alone. That was just the overly superstitious sports fan brain at work.

Once cleared to leave, you had called a girlfriend and told her what had happened and if she could take you back to Quinn's apartment. She had offered to stay with you until he came back, but you had managed to convince her that you wouldn't have to wait for too long before he was home. There was reluctance to leave you, after saying you had sustained a concussion, but you had apparently been persuasive enough and she would leave shortly after getting you settled on the sofa.

You were thankful for the darkness and the silence of his apartment. The hospital had been busy and terribly bright, so just a smaller arena atmosphere, and you had suffered for hours before finally getting to actually relax. Your phone was next to you but looking at the screen, even with the brightness down, shot through your head like a bullet. The light sensitivity had been incredible, yet you were told it was common and nothing to worry about. You wanted to message Quinn, but typing was impossible, so a voice-to-text message would have to do the trick.

Y|N: Hey baby I'm okay. Just got home from the hospital. If you didn't know I'm the girl who tried to catch the puck with her face. Ha ha, lucky me. Anyway, I just wanted you to know I'm fine. Love you. (11:55pm)

Quinn: I was hoping that wasn't you. :( I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm glad you're okay. I'll be home shortly. I love you more. (12:09am)

When Quinn got home you were still sitting on the sofa, an ice pack pressed against your browbone where the new stitches were. The lights in the kitchen were dimmed, as you had gotten up shortly after his text message and turned them on, so he wouldn't come home to a pitch black apartment. You didn't want to scare him by being a creep in the dark, just waiting for him to get in.

"Hey Quinny," you said, half asleep and leaning against the corner of the sectional.

"Hey," Quinn replied, voice soft and low as he wasted no time getting to your side. "How are you feeling?"

He'd sit down beside you and try to see just what had happened. You'd drop the ice pack to you lap, fingers cold after having to hold it for so long. "I'm tired."

Quinn frowned, tipping your chin to the side just slightly, "Looks like it got you pretty good, babe."

"Yeah, I was watching you...so I didn't see it coming," you breathed out ashamed.

"Now, what would you do that for?" He laughed, hoping to raise your spirits. "I didn't see it happen."

"I'm glad you didn't," you mumbled, returning the ice to your face, feeling it throb again. "I got blood all over my jersey, too."

He gave a weak smile, hoping you were trying to be sarcastically upset, seeing the stains for himself. "I'll get you a new one. I'm just glad you're okay. It could have been a lot worse." His voice was near a whisper at the end.

"I don't want a new jersey! That one is special, don't you remember?" You cried out with emotional hurt, growing more upset thinking about how quickly the night had spiraled.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said trying to keep you calm. "It's been a long time since that date, babe. I'm sorry I forgot it was (that) one. I'll take it with me and see if one of the equipment guys can clean it for me, okay? We'll get it taken care of. Now, can I get you anything?'

You just shook your head.

"Why don't you go lay down? You've had a long day."

You wouldn't say anything to him, but instead, would get up and try to walk past him but he would stop you. His arm would block your path, his hand gripping your thigh gently. The way he looked at you conveyed his concern, while his words remained minimal. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing," you replied flatly, wishing he'd let you pass.

Your response prompted him to stand up. Now you wouldn't be going anywhere until he felt better about your situation. "Will you talk to me?"

"I don't want to talk, Quinn," you grumbled, your head pounding harder now that you weren't at rest.

Without a word, Quinn brought you into his arms. He knew how concussions could affect a person, how they could make you irritable and emotional out of nowhere. All he hoped was that a quiet moment would calm you down. He wasn't upset with you and your sudden attitude change; he knew how being hit with pucks felt and you hadn't been wearing the gear like he did. Not to mention you had been hit in the face.

"You're okay, baby. You just need to rest. I wasn't trying to order you around. And I'm sorry about the jersey thing."

Out of habit, you'd lay your head against him, but it would be those tender stitches that would make contact with his shoulder, causing you to pull back in pain.

"Ouch!" You hissed, fingers shielding the area.

"Careful, careful," he soothed, taking your face in his hands. When your hand fell away to your side, Quinn placed the most delicate kiss to your forehead, just above where your skin was split. His softness made your eyes close. You felt so touch starved all of a sudden, like you wanted to beg him for more. How had one kiss melted your sour mood away like that? You'd stand there like a statue, eyes still closed, feeling his warm hands cup your face.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, having expected a different reaction from you.

"No," you replied, opening your eyes to his face, "that just felt so nice."

Quinn would smile, relieved that you finally had one moment of comfort against everything else that had happened that night. He'd take all of your pain away from you if he knew how. If little angel kisses made you better, he'd take as much time as was needed to pepper ever inch of your skin with them.

"How about I get you ready for bed and make sure you get to sleep, hm?

"I can do it."

Quinn's thumbs caressed your cheeks, while he still remained holding your face, "Let me help you. I promise to be gentle."

Your eyes softened when you gave him an affirming nod. You hadn't wanted to bother him with anything after a game, but he was insisting and who were you to deny him wanting to do such sweet things for you?

"Come on, princess. Let's get this done so you can get some sleep."

His hands would fall from your face, to take one of yours and lead you down the hallway. Quinn's pace was slow and cautions even though there was nothing wrong with your ability to walk; he would never rush you a single step.

"I'm only going to turn on the vanity lights, okay? They shouldn't be as bright."

"Okay."

The Edison bulbs came to a glow over the mirror, casting a soft, golden hue to the bathroom. Your head felt plagued by the worst migraine you could remember, but you'd struggle through while Quinn did whatever he had in mind for you. He'd have you put your back to the counter and would lift you up, so you were sitting slightly above his eye level; your feet kicking gently as they dangled in front of the numerous drawers.

"What do I need to take your makeup off, baby?" He asked, hands resting on either side of your thighs.

"In the basket, under the sink, there is a pink package of wipes. Those are fine. The Micellar ones."

"Under the sink, okay," he said softly to himself, giving your leg a tap before looking under his sink for this particular basket, and sure enough, like you had said, he was able to find them. "Just one?"

"Mhm, just one," you said, hand out-stretched for the product but he wouldn't hand them over.

"No, sweetheart, I said I'd do this for you," he smiled, removing one of the large sheets. "Just tell me if I do something wrong."

His touch was so delicate as he worked around your eyes, paying special attention not to graze your stitches. The nurses had washed most of your face of blood and some makeup at the hospital, but you were happy to let Quinn finish the rest. He pressed the cloth to your eyelashes for a couple seconds before pulling away the difficult product from them. Had he been paying attention to you all this time? He seemed confident in his approach and you appreciated the caution he implied.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to do them right now," you told him, finally opening your eyes once he was done.

Quinn wondered if he had done something wrong to make you not want anything more from him, "Like what?"

"There's a whole routine, but I don't care enough right now. My head hurts," you said, frustrated, tossing the melting ice pack in the sink.

"Alright, sweetheart, it's whatever you want." He pressed forward for a kiss which you would give before Quinn would get you down off the counter. For some reason, each step you took felt like it rippled through your feet straight to your pounding skull. Thankfully his bed wasn't too far away now.

"I should have carried you," Quinn lamented, only after having you sit on the bed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. My legs work."

"I know they do, but anything to make things easier on you," he whispered, hands finding their place on your legs again. "Let's get you out of these clothes, okay?"

- - -

"I'll join you in a little bit. I'm going to put this in my backpack," he said, carefully folding the jersey. "But I've gotta get something to eat. I'm a little dizzy myself."

From the bed he had you carefully tucked into, you frowned hearing that he wasn't feeling to good himself. Now, you wanted to be the one to help him, but you knew there was no way that he was going to approve of you being out of bed, especially to wait on him.

"Have you had anything to eat today?" He asked you before fully leaving the room.

"I had something at noon."

"That's it?"

"Mhm, but I don't want anything. This headache kind of has me nauseous," you confessed, pulling the blankets up closer to your face.

You could faintly see him frown at your admission. "I can make you some tea. Would you like that?"

Smiling through the pain you'd nod, "Yes, please."

Unfortunately, you'd fall asleep before he could get back to you with the tea. He'd put it down on your nightstand and look at you for a moment. His lamp was still on so he could see you fully. You looked so delicate laying there aside from the deep bruising becoming more evident under your skin. He was so thankful you were okay, but vowed the next time you went to see him play, you'd be safely in a seat behind the net. He couldn't stand seeing you hurt like this again. Not if he could do anything about it.

[rainb0ws-h4t]

Another imagine before I dissapear again

Tw: slight yandere, stalking

Imagine you are a background character in the main plot of Twisted Wonderland. You hold no use in the story's progress, neither do you interact much with the main cast. You aren't aware of this at all, and continue to live your life as a regular student in Night Raven College.

Until a fascinating phenomenon happens that summons a magicless human from another world. Everyone gravitates towards them as they spend more and more time in Twisted Wonderland.

But who wouldn't be enamoured by their presence?

The magicless prefect of Ramshackle who is a denominator at every overblot? The magicless prefect of Ramshackle who melts down the walls of every stone cold housewarden (no Kalim‼️) of Night Raven? The magicless prefect of Ramshackle who fascinates and impresses you with each heroic act they do?

They're lively, strong, and dazzling.

Their name was a common topic in the bustling halls. Heck— some students even became fanboys of the infamous prefect, gushing about them during breaks like a teenage schoolgirl.

You honestly thought you'd just be another nameless student in the crowd of people vying for their attention. After all, you had no involvement in whatever plot was happening currently.

And you were fine with that.

With the shit they've gone through, you'd rather not get involved with any of the things they do daily. Plus, the people they interacted with either scared you to death or just annoying and loud students that you'd rather rip your ears off than listen to them yap.

Until, you've did something that redirected the entire plot entirely.

You strolled through the halls of NRC at an ungodly hour. You couldn't sleep, and frankly— just didn't want to be in the presence of other dorm mates sleeping.

You'd didn't expect anyone to be awake at this time. After all, a test was being held early in the morning. You were confident you could wake up in time for that though.

As you walked calmly through the silent halls, yu noticed a figure standing next to a window. You hoped it wasn't a teacher or anything. Getting caught sneaking out wouldnt look good on your record.

You opted to just sneak behind them quietly. Not like you were being loud anyway.

While you did so, you just happened to notice how familiar the figure appeared. So eerily familiar to that infamous prefect you've grown to admire so fondly...

*Thud*

FUCK.

You weren't paying attention to whre you were walking and tripped on practically nothing. The figure turned around, alarmed and frightened. The original alarmed expression now transitioned into confusion at the display of your pathetic state.

"W-who are you?"

Every living thing dies once in a lifetime,

You died two times in your lifetime.

Awkwardly, you attempted to stand up without looking even more like a moron. "Just another student... Strolling around.."

"And what are you doing here.?" They asked.

"Well,.. I didn't really feel like sleeping right now." The prefect nodded in response, they didn't seem intent on responding with anything else.

"What are you doing here?" You asked suddenly.

The prefect looked up at you at that, making eye contact. "I... Everything..." They kept opening their mouth and closing it. They looked so vulnerable and timid that you doubted that this was the prefect that assisted in every overblot.

"It's just so..." Tears streaked down their eyes.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around them and engulfed them in a big hug. Hoping that the warmth that you can provide would be enough to clear the tears.

"I just w-wanna go home... I dont w-wanna be here anymore." They sobbed, pulling you closer.

That night, you comforted the sobbing prefect and woke up with five minutes left to get ready for the test.

You're not sure if that's what stared it, but the prefect has been gravitating towards you a lot. They sat in the same lunch table as you, they strayed away from her friends more often (with only grim as a companion), walked to classes with you, and even invited you to their ever growing friend group.

Past you would've relished in the attention being showered on you personally by the prefect, but...

Everywhere you went with Yuu (they told you to call them that) was followed by a lingering feeling of multiple pairs of eyes that bore into your skin. You hated it. And that feeling only began to increase whenever you were alone.

There was one time that you escorted Yuu home, and they hugged you as a thanks. A loud thunder rang through the entire campus the second it occured. You slipped out of their grasp and scurried away immediately.

You forgot to mention but..

Yuu radiated a dazzling and alluring aura that everyone was attracted to. Whatever they felt towards Yuu was not your business, but those people they interact with always made it clear they wanted Yuu. It disturbed you in a way. They seemed so dazzled and the way they wanted to be in their presence 24/7 was borderline creepy and obsessive.

One thing you learned about Yuu was that they noticed it too. They were exhausted from keeping up the facade that they had on. And basically— exhausted from the guys that lurked wherever they went. They confessed that they felt disturbed by how erratic their behaviour was around them, but they were too frightened to say anything that might cause them to react suddenly.

You couldn't bring yourself to confess how you felt the same about them.

Those creepy ass leech twins with their menacing grins.

That rule-obssesed maniac that stopped you in a hallway and demanded you stay away from Yuu. (Rule 636? 352? Who even cares anymore?)

Some advanced machinery that circled the garden you were trying to rest in.

You swore you were nothing more than a side character in the story of theirs. You swore that if did get involved with Yuu, it wouldn't even have a lasting impact.

Now as Yuu gushed about how the boys seemed to have lessened their weird behaviour and began to act normal. You couldn't help but feel the curse that was placed over Yuu, was now transferred over to you.

You know you couldn't be alone from this point onward.

[starglitterz]

♡ YOU KNOW YOU LOVE ME!

what was meant to be a simple heist goes awry when you're interrupted by a shockingly cute security guard & a couple of rival art thieves. did you mention that one of them is kind of your ex?

✧ feat ; ayato, childe, diluc, scaramouche x gn!reader (3.6k words)

✧ warnings ; highly suggestive, thief + cop au, robbery, weapons, reader is a tease, one (1) ginger insult, reader loves bullying men (as they should)

✧ a/n ; be gay do crime that's all i have to say! jk HJSDSJD this has been rotting in my drafts for almost THREE years. i reread it and the writing style was so unserious that i suddenly got motivated to continue it and then i finished it in a night. Yeah. anyways this is my #grandcomeback and also first post of 2025! i really hope you all enjoy this :> if it flops i will cry myself to sleep /j btw this was proofread by the loml @musings-of-miss-j who has a SUPERB harbingers series that u should totally check out 🙂‍↕️😋

please reblog with comments ! it helps a lot :)

"hey! you there!" a baritone voice behind you yells, shattering the midnight peace of the museum and jolting you out of your reverie. tightening your grip around the gleaming purple gnosis you came here for, you slip it into your pocket quickly before turning around with a smile that would assure anybody of your innocence. "who? little old me?" you bat your eyes, blinking slowly at the man. your eyes have long adjusted to the darkness, so even with his similarly coloured outfit you're able to pick out the faded gold badge at his chest reading 'diluc'. "what are you doing back here?" his tone doesn't change in the slightest as he flicks his flashlight over to you, the beam practically blinding against the dark surroundings. 

"it appears that i've gotten lost," you laugh awkwardly, doing your best to feign being a naive tourist, "i was told that there were late tours offered at the teyvat museum." diluc still looks exceedingly suspicious, and as his gaze travels behind you your mind snaps into overdrive so he doesn't notice the missing artifact. suddenly bursting into tears, you run forward and bury your face in his shirt, "i! was! so! scared!" you punctuate each word with an even louder wail and he freezes beneath you, the close contact entirely unexpected. "there, there…" he pats your back with the enthusiasm and warmth of a polar ice cap, and with your face hidden in the fabric you permit yourself a triumphant smile - you've managed to divert his attention for now, at least.

"i am so terribly sorry about this," you begin to apologise profusely before looking up at him with teary eyes, "but would you mind walking me to the exit? i'm afraid i'll get lost again." at his hesitant expression you sniffle loudly, exaggerating it as much as possible until he caves, "fine. but stay close, there's been rumours floating around about artifact thieves lately." when he starts marching away, you hurry to catch up and ask curiously as if you aren't one of them, "artifact thieves?!" "yes. the type to steal priceless elements of history and sell them on the black market," he spits with disgust in his eyes. "oh, how terrible! i can't understand why anyone would do that instead of leaving them here for the public to enjoy," you gush, "surely there are other ways to make money." 

yeah, you could become an art thief instead. not that you haven't tried that; you just found it too tedious to craft a believable enough fake and ensure the painting wasn't damaged while sneaking it out. diluc doesn't deign to reply besides a single nod of his head, and you try to start up another conversation, "i suppose you're not the type to befriend random visitors, huh?" the corner of his lips tug up into a barely perceptible smile, "only the ones who appear after closing hours." "can't you make an exception for me?" you wink, though you doubt he can even see it through the darkness blanketing the museum. "hmph," is the only answer you receive, and your chit-chat ends with a dramatic sigh from your end.

to be frank, you couldn't care less whether this ‘diluc’ likes you or not. it's just in your best interests for him to remember you as some flirty ditz who'd leave their head at home if it wasn't screwed on and not a calculating, manipulative burglar. this heist is one to remember for sure though, you don't think you've ever escaped with the goods in your pocket while talking to the security guard on duty. you've knocked them out beforehand and slept with them after, but never during the job, so tonight marks a first for you. 

through your eyelashes, you glance at diluc, absorbing every detail about him in a split second; it's a trick you've learned from years of living on the street where figuring out who's going to hurt you and who won't is crucial for survival. he's pretty enough that you wouldn't mind spending the night with him, with fiery red locks tied neatly into a high ponytail and crimson eyes which sparkle like rubies. perhaps you could make this a double heist and steal his heart too!

your train of thought is interrupted as diluc comes to a halt without warning and you bump into his back (which you note is surprisingly toned). "what-" you start to complain, but he holds a hand up which silences you immediately. "i heard something," he whispers, practically inaudible, and you instantly start to babble, "what?! are they artifact thieves?! are we going to die?!" diluc groans before grabbing you and hiding behind a wall, pulling you flush against his torso as one of his gloved hands covers your mouth, "shut up." 

now this is close contact; you can feel the quick rise and fall of his chest, his racing heartbeat, and his every muscle tensing in preparation for a fight. if you weren't so preoccupied with the fact that this is delaying your getaway, you'd probably make a stupid quip. actually scratch that, you're going to do it anyway, "at least take me on a date first," you mumble as you shrug away his hand, and he looks at you with the most disbelieving expression, "you can still make idiotic comments in a situation like this? you've either got nerves of steel or you're a total dumbass." "depends on your type," you smile, and he drags a palm down his face exasperatedly, "i- you know what, never mind."

"ow!" "shut the fuck up, idiot. it's bad enough that i had to get paired with you, but if you get us caught i'm going to kill you." "rude. you could just ask nicely." "i have no interest in talking to you." "yet here we are." "can you seriously keep quiet? i'm telling the tsaritsa never to put me in a team with you again." "aw, stop, you'll hurt my feelings." "do you even have any of those left?" "hey! i'll have you know i am a very emotional person." "that's like me saying i'm an upstanding member of society."

you freeze in diluc's arms, running through every curse word in every language you know in your mind. you'd recognise those two voices anywhere. out of all the nights the fatui could have been planning a robbery, it had to be tonight?! archons, your luck is awful. "okay, this has been fun and all, but i've got to go," you start wriggling out of his embrace, planning to smash a window and escape because you'd honestly risk getting caught by the cops instead of the fatui. "what?! are you insane?! there are obviously two robbers there," diluc whisper-shouts, brows furrowing in a peculiar mix of confusion and worry. "and i'd prefer not to die, so i'm going to leave before they come here!" you retort, continuing to slide out of his arms. however, he doesn't relax his grip and you roll your eyes before elbowing him in the stomach. the sudden attack surprises him and he lets go with a groan, which is more than enough time for you to make a break for it.

unfortunately, diluc delayed you long enough that you end up running right into the two fatui members' line of vision. "wait, who are you?!" one of them asks, and the other one continues, "turn around, or i'll shoot you right now." fuck, is all you can think as you slowly rotate to face them with a sheepish smile, perhaps they wouldn't recognise you. "hey, aren't you y/n?!" well, there goes that plan. "no…? who's that?" "nah, you definitely are," the ginger walks towards you slowly before tilting your chin up to face him with his index finger. the game's up, so you sigh, "hey, childe... it's been a while." 

"i knew it was you! i'd know that pretty face of yours anywhere," he beams gleefully, and you smirk, "you still find me pretty? never knew you had a thing for criminals." "i do, it's my fatal flaw," he frowns before continuing, "except when they steal my money, in which case they become my enemies instead." double fuck. he still remembers that. "it wasn't that much! just about ten million mora or so, i know you've got tons left where that came from," you hurry to defend yourself. "that's not the point! the point is that you stole my money after i oh-so-kindly let you stay in my house!" childe says, and you're not taking this one lying down, "liar! you invited me over after you saw me at the bar!"

"can you both shut up? i'm losing braincells just listening to this shit," scaramouche cuts in, rolling his eyes so far back you swear they're going to get stuck that way. "really? because when you opened your mouth i think my iq just dropped by 10 points," you retort. scaramouche gapes at you for a second, clearly not used to someone talking back to him. "take a picture, it'll last longer," you wink, feeling the situation slide itself back into your grasp once more; you aren't planning on going down without a fight. "i don't have a kamera, and anyway who wants photos of dead people?" he fumbles for a reply and childe snickers, "cat got your tongue, scara?" "more like y/n's got your wallet," the balladeer jabs back, a smug grin curving his lips at the witty reply. childe's eyes widen at the insult, "hey! i'll have you know that i gave it to them willingly-"

taking advantage of the argument between the two of them, you unhook a rope from your waist and toss it up to the skylight. you're in the common center area of the museum, which has a square gap up to the roof and offers you a perfect shot for your hook to sail upwards and catch at the ledge. the instant you press a button the cord retracts, pulling you up with it. "and now y/n's getting away! so long, suckers!" you cheer as you zip upwards. "isn't that my line?!" you hear scaramouche yell as they scramble to find a way after you. seconds before you slam into the window like an unfortunate bug, you pull out a gun and shoot the glass, watching with glee as a spiderweb of cracks forms across it. thanks to the momentum of you gliding through the air, your boots easily smash through it when you kick harshly as you reach it, and you land with a loud thud on the roof. "ouch," you groan, "that's going to leave a bruise tomorrow." glancing at your surroundings, you inhale the fresh night air stained with the smog from all the polluting factories and listen to the buzz of the highways, busy even past midnight, "nothing like the city."

just then, you hear a thump behind you, and then a deep voice that sounds strangely familiar, "you'll be admiring it from a prison window after this." you spin around sharply, and the sight nearly makes you fall off the edge of the building with surprise, "diluc?!" at this, he freezes, and it's evident that he thought his disguise would be more than enough to conceal his identity. with a cough, he says, "no, i'm the darknight hero." "no, you're clearly diluc. i just met you like fifteen minutes ago and even i can recognise your hair in that stupid suit, it practically glows," you fold your arms over your chest, making idle conversation while your mind races to come up with an idea to save yourself. "my suit isn't stupid," diluc can't stop himself from defending his outfit, just because he had barely any sewing skills did not give you the right to insult the piece of clothing. "it's literally a mask and a black coat." 

"back to the matter at hand," diluc- sorry, the darknight hero, clears his throat loudly, clearly eager to change the topic, "you're under arrest." "oh yeah? since when are you a cop?" "i'm not." "then you obviously don't have the power to arrest me, idiot." smarting from yet another insult, diluc tries his best to maintain his composure, "i meant that i'm going to take you in to the police station and then you'll be under arrest." "should have just said that," you shrug, and you can almost see diluc fighting to rein his temper in - this is too easy.

"okay, well, this actually hasn't been fun at all, so i'm leaving," you turn around again and stroll away, hoping that there'll be a ladder on the edge of the roof. you don't really see a diluc as a threat, because to be honest he seems more like a kid playing dress-up. what kind of self-respecting adult who cared as much for the law as he did would choose to be a vigilante? maybe if he got a better costume you could take him seriously. and that turned out to be a huge mistake on your part, because the next moment, a lasso whizzes through the air and loops around your ankles, quickly pulling into a deadknot that would take you ages to untie. 

you want to throw a tantrum, crying and stomping your feet at diluc, but what good would that do when this issue sprung from your own cockiness? "listen, how much do you want? i'll give it to you, any amount. i know how much security guards make, and trust me, it'll be nothing compared to what i could give you," the words spill out of your mouth in a jumble, and you seem to take on the role of a confident salesman selling a product you know is worthless. it's embarrassing how much this sounds like a plea. "i don't want money. i want the streets and artifacts of teyvat to be safe from people like you," diluc ignores your further attempts at bribing him, although he does give you a strange look when you offer up a kiss, as if he's genuinely considering it. does this man actually get no bitches?

“ah, a kiss, hm? is that what you want?” you lean forward almost desperately, grinning at him like a maniac, “c’mon, mr darknight hero! i promise i’m a really good kisser~” you lick your lips as if to prove your point, and your smirk deepens when his ruby gaze follows the motion. “just give me a second to touch up my lipstick, ‘kay?” while he’s still stunned from your offer, you fumble in your pocket and pull out a taser. diluc only snaps back into action when he sees the weapon clutched in your hands, and though he dodges, you manage to stumble forward without your bound ankles and ram the buzzing probes into his chest. 

a strange noise, a mixture of a whimper and a groan escapes his throat as he falls to his knees in front of you, body twitching like a dying bug. rummaging in his pockets, you find a knife and giggle as you slice through the ties on your legs, “see? this is why it’s always great to have men on their knees for you. i forgot my knife today, so i hope you’ll be okay with me borrowing this.” as he glares at you through blurry vision, a mockingly pitiful smile curves your lips and you pat his head like you’re petting an overzealous guard dog, “now be a good boy and stay here, okay, diluc? ah, sorry, i mean mr darknight hero!” dipping your head, you press a fleeting kiss to his cheek, relishing in his flustered gasp, “i’ll give you a proper kiss next time~” you burst into laughter and skip off, leaving him tied up and blushing with the same restraints he had used on you. 

“why is this stupid place so big?!” you mutter to yourself as you whiz across the rooftop. the museum is under renovation, so a lot of the walls of the rear wing are covered in scaffolding and tarp that only serve to slow you down as you try to escape. you’re seriously regretting being a cheapskate earlier and not parking at the official parking lot, instead you had hid your getaway car almost a kilometre away from the location just to avoid a parking fee. don’t judge! things like this are how rich people stay rich. but just as you’re skidding across the glass-roofed observatory, you hear a familiar voice behind you. 

“not so fast, thief.”

you groan as exaggeratedly as you can, making a big show of how troublesome it is for you to turn around, “hello again, childe. hat guy.” “my name is scaramouche!” he seethes, scowling at you with a glare furious enough to thaw antarctica. “listen, y/n,” childe steps forward, raising both hands in magnanimous surrender, “let’s make a deal.” “not interested.” you stick your tongue out, slowly backing away. childe continues as if he didn’t hear you, but the twitch in his brow is enough to give away his act, “you give us the gnosis, and i’ll forget all about the money you owe me.” “i don’t owe you, genius,” you scoff, “i stole it. i’m obviously not going to repay it.” “you really are an idiot,” scaramouche massages his temples, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth than here at this moment.

“well!” childe puffs himself up, pretending that his ego isn’t hurt, “i thought you and i had chemistry, y’know? we could hang out again if you just give me the gnosis.” his voice drops an octave lower to emphasise his last few words, and you feel a familiar shiver up your spine. “childe, we slept together once, and sleeping with a ginger was not one of my proudest moments,” you retort, though you feel a twinge of guilt as childe fusses with his hair, “hey! uncalled for!” to be honest, he’s not wrong. the two of you did have chemistry, and the night you spent together was… well, let’s just say you could barely walk the next day. but dating isn’t your style, especially not when it’s someone who belongs to a rival group in the world of art theft. you  prefer one night stands – it’s easier to keep things simple with no strings attached. 

“just give us the gnosis, and we won’t kill you. is that a better deal?” scaramouche interrupts, evidently tired of childe beating around the bush. “scara! i was this close to getting them to crack!” childe pouts, and scaramouche rolls his eyes heavenward – if there was ever a time for him to believe in the gods, it would be now as he prays for mercy from his partner’s stupidity. “you’re cracked in the head if you think so,” scaramouche drags a palm down his face and sighs, “you only think with your dick.” “what?!” childe’s aghast at this accusation, “that’s not true!” “i think it is.” you helpfully supply, and that draws both men’s attention back to you.

“whatever! just hand us the gnosis, and things won’t get messy.” childe withdraws his blades, and you realise he’s finally getting serious. scaramouche steps closer as well, and you can’t move backwards anymore, you’re already teetering on the ledge. a fall from this height definitely wouldn’t leave you in the best condition. it’s too early for you to die, you haven’t even seen your favourite artist live yet! “fine. you want it?” you pull the gnosis out from your pocket and a wicked smirk graces your features, “then come and get it~!” you toss the item up in the air, letting the way it sparkles in the moonlight speak for itself as you lean backwards and salute, “see you on the other side, losers!” 

with that, you fall off the roof while scaramouche and childe fumble to catch the gnosis.

“hey! that dumbass!” childe rushes to the edge to check on you, only to realise that… you aren’t there?! contrary to what he expected, your bloody corpse isn’t lying there. you’re climbing down the scaffolding like a monkey, weaving in and out of the metal bars until you reach the ground. looking back up at him, childe thinks he can make out a final playful wink before you hop into a black car that’s just pulled up at the back. behind him, scaramouche yells, “childe!” “what is it now, balladeer- what?!” the gnosis is shattered on the stone roof, shards of purple and silver gleaming in a manner that almost seems taunting. “it was a fucking fake!” scaramouche yells, kicking the broken pieces furiously, and childe can’t stop the lovestruck expression that plays across his face, “y/n really is a master thief…” “snap out of it, idiot! what are we going to tell the boss?!”

meanwhile, you’re in the passenger seat of an inconspicuous black car, chuckling to yourself as you toy with the real gnosis. “you’re lucky i told you to bring more than one imitation,” a suave voice sounds from the driver’s seat, “and that i was there to save you.” “thank you, oh great master ayato,” you giggle, pretending to bow, “you’re a lifesaver. literally.” he smirks, gloved fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel, “you could have been in and out. you just like playing too much.” “hey!” you whine dramatically, “it’s not my fault the security guard was so cute!” “hmm…” he reaches out and tilts your chin to face his piercing blue eyes, “don’t say stuff like that or i’ll get jealous, you know?” “s-shut up.” you pout, folding your arms across your chest and turning away to look out the window, “just drive, you blue-haired weirdo.” “that’s no way to talk to your boss now, is it?” he laughs goodnaturedly as the two of you speed away, “i just wish i could be there to see the look on captain wriothesley’s face when he realises it was us again.” 

© starglitterz 2025. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Korean is in italic.

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Twenty minutes later, all 4 of you were in a car heading to the Stray Kids apartment.  Something you would have killed for in the past.  But now you were nervous.  Your leg kept bouncing unconsciously, and you kept your gaze out the window, lip between your teeth.

“Why did you 3 stay behind?”  You ask mainly to distract yourself from the situation.  You understood why they sent Changbin away.  If he was truly ready to get violent, then that wasn’t a good thing, and it was for the best that he was removed from the situation.  And the temptation.

“We are the nicest, and Hyung is the leader.”  Han shrugged simply.

Honestly, valid.  If any of them were going to put someone at ease, it would be the sunshine twins.

Felix reached over and brushed your arm lightly with his fingertips.  He had been doing this every few minutes since he was forced to let go of your hands.  It was almost like he needed to make sure I was real.  That I was actually here and solid and okay.

With a sigh that was half fond, you roll your eyes and grab his hand, lacing your fingers firmly with his.  Contact may help your nerves anyway.  It was a win-win.  Felix did seem to visibly relax in his seat, face smoothing out and looking content.

Chan looked back from the front seat.  He had been texting on his phone for almost the whole ride.  “I have someone bringing you clothes and a phone.”  He informed you.  “Here, text them anything else you want.”  He handed you back his phone without hesitation.

“Can you do that?  Just hand your phone to some rando you just met?”  You ask not moving to take the device.  You didn’t know how it worked for him, but you had all kinds of information on your phone.  Passwords, noods, bank numbers, you name it!  You could do all sorts of things with his phone if you had the intention to.

Your fangirl heart was really struggling today.  You are not sure how you weren’t screaming and crying being so close to 3 members of Stray Kids.  You were even almost calmly holding Felixs hand!  THE BangChan was now handing you his PERSONAL PHONE!   That’s it!  You can’t!  You just can’t!

Chan patiently continues to hold the phone out to you.  “You could argue that my soul has known yours for a long time, so we aren’t strangers.  Plus, you aren’t some rando.  You are our soulmate.  I would give you anything.”

Blushing, you take the phone gingerly.  It was opened to an ongoing text chain with someone named Dohyun.  The chain started in Korean but transitioned to English.  You didn’t think they realized you could read and write Korean fluently since you were 6 years old.  Your grandfather was a very traditional man and insisted on it.  He taught you all about your heritage.  Even on his deathbed, he was giving you last-minute lessons.

You kept hold of Felixs hand even as you used both yours to start typing in English.  It was sneaky and shady, but you wanted to see – or well hear – what they would say if they didn’t know you could understand them.  And it’s not like they ever asked, and you lied about knowing Korean.  They just assumed.

The first thing you did was send them your bank info and very strict instructions to use only your money.  You would not let yourself be indebted to them.  Well, any more than you already were.  You weren’t keeping track, but since they kidnapped you, you felt like you were pretty even right now, with them letting you stay with them, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You could feel Felix reading over your shoulder, but he didn’t protest.  He just watched in silence as you made your list and gave them clothing sizes and preferences.  You only needed enough to get by for now.  You had stuff back at your house, and anything else you could shop for yourself.

“Did I miss anything?”  You ask Felix after coming up on nothing else to add for a long minute.

Felix hummed as he thought.  “Do you want your own bedsheets or anything?”  He asked.  You shake your head.  You could use what they had already.  No use spending money on that.

Han leaned in to look, but didn’t give any suggestions, so you sent the message and handed Chan his phone back before your inner demons won and you started to look through his phone and invade his privacy and trust.  You were only human, after all.

Chan scanned the text but also didn’t say anything about your instructions to only use your money.  You choose to believe it was them respecting your wishes and not something else odd or secret going on like the dark part of your brain was trying to tell you it was.

When the car finally slowed and came to a stop, you didn’t move to get out.  Instead, you looked out the window again at the very imposing building you would be living in.  You were not a big city person.  You avoided large crowds for the most part.  So this extremely tall and glittery building was overpowering to you.

“This had been a very hard day for me.”  You say quietly to no one in particular.  You didn’t know how to describe everything you were feeling.  How mixed your thoughts were.  The ups and downs you have been through over the last few hours alone.  You could feel your mind and emotions wanting to go numb, comfortably blank.  You could feel yourself fighting to not shut down.  There was still a lot to do yet before you could.

Chan reached and patted your knee lightly.  “I warned them to give you some space tonight.  Lino made you some dinner, but he and Hyunjin headed out for the evening.”

“What about Seungminnie and Ayen?”  Han asked.

You were thankful they were giving you a few minutes more to get ready.  Also that you weren’t going to be bombarded by the other members of the group just yet.

“And Bin Hyung?”  Felix asked, back to stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Min and Ayen went to practice some more.  They said they would be there until late.  Bin refused to leave.  He is still worked up.  Y/n, he is a clinger, and since he was so affected by what they did to you, he will most likely be worse than usual. Just be prepared, and don't be afraid to tell him to back off if you need to. He will get over it."

You nod absently, already knowing that you will welcome the cuddles after the day you have had. Especially since it will bring more comfort to the space in your chest that the others affect.

Just four. You could handle one more person for sure. And food sounded amazing. You hadn't had anything since breakfast the day you were kidnapped. Whenever that was. At this point, you didn't know. Was it a day ago? Two days? Time was gone at this point. And right now, you didn't care to figure it out. It could wait until tomorrow. It would right itself eventually. When it mattered. When you needed it.

Now that you were thinking about food, your stomach clenched in hunger. You were thankful it didn't make an embarrassing sound like it always did in anime's.

"Is Lee Know really a good cook or is that just hype?" You ask, both out of curiosity and to buy yourself more time.

Han laughed. "Oh, it's not hype. It's amazing!" His laugh made you smile.

Felix tugged on your hand. "C'mon. We got you." He spoke lowly, giving the illusion of privacy.

His assurance, however, did help a bit, and you gave him a nod. As if waiting for a cue you didn't see or hear, the door was opened, and you were on your way to the apartment. You kind of felt odd. Out of body.

Chan barely guided you through the door before a large set of arms engulfed you. You blink and freeze in confusion.

"Bin, give her a minute!" Chan chastised behind you.

You take a deep breath and wave him off. Using the hand not still holding Felixs to rub down Changbins spine in soothing long strokes. He shivered lightly in response.

After a minute, he let go and took a step back. "I'm sorry. Last time I saw you, you were so out of it and terrified. I haven't been able to get it out of my head." He shifted, not so subtly checking me over, eyes lingering on my bruised wrists and hands.

"Most of those are my fault. I broke out of two sets of zip ties before they used the metal cuffs." You shrugged. All those hours of doom scrolling through the clock app did actually do some good. You learned how to break zip ties. It gave you a chance to attempt to escape. You weren't successful in escaping, but you for sure made it difficult for them. And you were oddly proud of that fact.

Changbins face lit up with a smile, and you blinked, stunned. "What?" You asked.

"Out girl is a fighter! I'm just so proud!" He responded.

"Changbin!" Chan snapped. Probably because of the 'our girl' comment. You just chose to ignore it. Choose your battles and all that jazz.

You shrugged one shoulder. "I wasn't about to go down without a fight."

Changbins face dropped so abruptly into a dark mask that you had to stop yourself from stepping back automatically as a shiver of fear crawled up your spine. That look was downright terrifying. You never wanted that look aimed your way.

"What that asshole did to you was wrong! So wrong! And if they'd let me, I'd knock his lights out. Break his jaw so he could never give another idiotic order like that again!" He spoke lowly, calmly, which made it all the more terrifying.

"I'd let you. I'd join you. Hold him down for you." You respond without hesitation.

Han squeezed his way by. "Seriously, Bin. She hasn't eaten. Let her in." He spoke in Korean. You did your best to keep up the illusion. You couldn't understand what he said.

"Yes. Lee Know left food for all of you. I'm Changbin, by the way. Or Bin, Binnie, whatever you want to call me."

Why did they all feel the need to introduce themselves like they weren't famous? Just politeness? It was really hard not to respond sarcastically.

"Y/n." You introduced yourself as you walked into the apartment, and the smell of BBQed meat hit your nose. Your mouth immediately started to water, and you swallowed.

Felix let go of your hand in favor of diving for a plate of the steaming food that was sitting in 4 spots on the table. "Oh, it smells so good!" He moaned, taking a deep sniff close to the food.

You wholeheartedly agreed. You awkwardly sat and took the fork Chan offered me to replace the chopsticks they didn't know I could use. Another thing they just assumed instead of asking that you would let them think for a while.

You could feel their eyes on you as you took your first bite, and you tried not to be self-conscious and overthink how you chewed or anything like that. Focusing instead firmly on the food in front of you.

As soon as the flavor hit your tongue, you forgot all about them watching. It was a brand new flavor for you. Nothing like any BBQ chicken you have ever had before. It was amazing, and you took another bite before you even swallowed the first.

"Guess that means you like it." Chan chuckled, finally digging into his own food. You just nod, still chewing happily.

"Lino will be glad to hear it. I think he was a little nervous. He kept fiddling with it before Hyune finally dragged him away." Binnie revealed as he sat with us.

It was mostly silent as you all focused on the food. Your stomach was singing in praise at finally having something in it besides the tiny cup of water Felix gave you earlier.

"Did you have enough?" Bin asked as you finished up your last bite. You nod, rubbing your stuffed belly in contentment.

"That was very good, thank you. And thank Lee Know for me, please." You request.

"No problem." Chan started. "So, I'm sure you want to shower and stuff. I can show you to your room. It has a private bathroom. And I'm sure we can find you some clothes to wear until the personal shopper gets here. As long as you don't mind wearing our clothes." Chan stood and picked up all the dishes, placing them in the sink as he spoke.

I bit my cheek. There was no way there was an extra room with a private bath just sitting empty. "I don't mind borrowing clothes if you don't mind. But who's room am I stealing?"

"You didn't steal anything. I figured you would be more comfortable with your own bathroom."

So, Chans room then. That makes sense. He was the oldest. He would have the choice room.

Bin let you gently down a hall, hand just brushing the small of my back like he was afraid to touch me all of a sudden. the others followed like little ducklings. You laughed at the images that produced in your mind silently.

The room was simple and nice. Warm colors accented the plain white walls. Navy blue blanket on the nearly made bed. You suspected they were fresh blankets and sheets for you. It was also bare. Very little personal belongings, and you could see the drawers were empty.

"I moved in with Minnie. Figured you would need the drawers." Chan shrugged when he noticed my line of sight.

"We moved everything over while you were at JYPE. We were hoping you would choose to stay." Bin explained further.

You felt a little emotional. They had all already done so much for you. For your comfort. And you had displaced five of them. Four from the apartment and Chan from his room. You were for sure being annoying. A burden. "This is too much."

I watched as four faces fell and felt even guiltier. "What's wrong? You need us to leave?" Han asked, wringing his hands. It was a nervous habit of his you had noticed. One that STAY normally didn't get to see.

You waved your hands. "No, no! Not like that! I mean... I kicked four of you out of your home!"

"Y/n, they are fine for a few hours. They don't mind and they will come back later." Chan assured you. Bin nodded in confirmation.

You gestured around the room. "And you? I kicked you out of your room!"

Chan smiled and tucked a piece of stray hair from your face. You could feel how knotted it was. How unkempt and stringy. "We have all been dying to finally have you here. Everyone knows I don't sleep. So, I really don't need a room. I tend to sleep wherever I land that night. We all just want you to be comfortable and happy."

"You promise you won't get less sleep because of this - me. Any of you."

Chan's face softened into a look you didn't understand but made your stomach do a little flutter. "I promise, y/n."

The shower was perfect. Just this side of melting your skin off and a constant messaging water pressure that made you moan loudly and throw your head back.

You startle as there was a crash in the bedroom. "Everything okay?" You called, heart still racing a bit. You stopped moving, straining to listen for an answer.

"Yeah! Yupp! All good. Just...fell." Felixs voice came through the door, sounding muffled but strangely high pitched.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, nope. I'm good. Um - I put some of Innie's clothes on the bed for you. They should work well enough."

You called out your thanks and went back to showering. You used what you assumed were Chans soaps. They smelled lightly fragranced. Like baby powder almost, but with a perfume edge. You were a fan.

When you were done and left the bathroom, you found a couple of pieces of clothes laid out on the bed. A pair of black boxers with chilis printed on them and a gray t-shirt. I slipped both on, swimming in the shirt, but comfy.

But what did you do now. No one was in the bedroom anymore. You were mentally exhausted and looked at the bed but weren't willing to get in it yet.

In the end, you silently crept from the room to find the others. Maybe chat or better yet watch TV. Something that uses no brainpower. Something mundane and normal.

The hall was still lit, and you could hear several voices. Maybe they were already watching TV. That would make it less awkward. You could just silently join them.

As soon as you stepped round the corner and into the living room, you almost ran right into I.N holding a glass of water. You both froze. You in shock, you didn't know the others came back yet.

I.N looked you over once before spitting out the water he had been holding in his mouth. "You gave her my underwear!" He screeched. The whole room was looking at you both now. Seungmin was sitting on the couch next to Chan.

Felix shrugged, unapologetic. "The only thing I could find that looked like it would fit and be comfortable to sleep in." He explained.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, very entertained by I.Ns reaction. You fiddle with the hem on the shirt.

"No!" Everyone in the room instantly replied. You blink owlishly at them. That was kind of intense.

Changbin made grabby hands at you from the loveseat he sat on. Your heart freaking melted at the adorableness.

"That was so fucking cute, oh my god!" You breath.

I.N snorted. You stick your tongue out at him as you pass to sit next to Changbin, which only made him snort again.

Changbin immediately pulled your legs over his lap and put an arm around the front of your hips. "Ayen and Minnie ended up coming home earlier than expected. Sorry."

You shrug. "It's their home. And I feel better after the shower. I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Bin, don't hog our girl!" Felix pouted, bouncing over on his tip toes.

Somehow, he managed to wedge himself onto the loveseat behind you. You were half sitting on his lap.

You had a feeling both Bin and Felix were going to be the clingiest ones. Not that you minded. You loved to cuddle. And so far, they were A class cuddlers.

There was some sitcom playing on the large TV. Someone even put english subtitles on for me.

A shiver ran through you, and goosebumps rose on your skin. Less than a minute later, a blanket was draped over your legs, and Seungmin was behind the loveseat rubbing a towel over your damp hair.

"Stupid. Your hair is still wet, and you aren't wearing enough. You're going to get sick." He grumbled, still drying my hair. You couldn't help but giggle. He was so aggressively caring.

When my hair was satisfactorily dry, he left and came back with a brush to gently untangle my mussed hair.

His fingers and the brush were so gentle in your hair that you could feel yourself drifting off. It had been such a long time since someone played with your hair like this. You forgot how relaxing it was.

You must have actually fallen asleep because next you looked the TV was off and it was just you, Bin, Felix, and I.N in the living room. You could hear the others nearby talking lowly and also some wet smacks you suspected were kisses.

"What time is it?" You mumble, rubbing your face on the back of the couch.

"Just after midnight." Felix answered quietly. You did fall asleep then. For several hours.

You move and stretch out so your top half was now in Felixs lap, already halfway asleep again. "Is that Lee Know and Hyunjin?"

There was a hum of affirmation, and Felix started running his fingers through your hair. You were asleep again seconds later, not even caring that you were laying in the laps of two men you had only just met.

~

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi

(If your tag isn't working i am unable to tag you for whatever reason. I'll keep you on and try every chapter.)

[bonne-chanson]

If you'd be interested, could you write a story about the reader having to take care of Ranpo when he's sick?

a/n: this is perfect timing actually bc i’m down with a cold rn HAJDBKDN eurgh :(( anw, i hope you enjoy this (reverse?) sick fic! not sure if i captured ranpo’s personality enough, but i tried :’> there’s an established relationship here, so if this isn’t your cup of tea and you just wanted reader taking care of ranpo in general, feel free to tell me so i can whip smth up quickly for you! :>

under the weather and your care

✑ character/s: ranpo edogawa x reader

✑ short desc: his immune system is struggling way too much after playing in the rain and eating lots of candy.

✑ content includes: fluff ; sfw ; established relationship ; sick fic ; nothing to warn anyone about, reader just has to take care of ranpo

✑ word count: 1.6k words

"I told you to drink more water."

Ranpo could only huff at your berating words, crossing his arms childishly while he turns his head away to avoid your stern gaze. As much as he was the world’s greatest detective, his boyish behavior still makes him refuse to acknowledge the fact that you were right to say that too many sweets without drinking enough fluids and having a fever was, indeed, a terrible decision.

A few days earlier, the both of you were assigned to a mission that somehow ended in having to travel to Shibuya for the final piece of evidence. Ranpo, as always, lived up to his title by piecing everything together within half a minute, and the next train to Yokohama wasn’t going to stop by the station any time soon, so he asked himself (and you)—

What harm is there in exploring the city for a little while?

It turned into a spontaneous date of sorts, enjoying all kinds of tourist spots from dressing up and playing around with many colorful fashion pieces in Harajuku to riding go-karts around the emptier streets (which ended in chaos). His favorite, however, and not much to your surprise, was visiting Totti Candy Factory with you in tow, immediately heading over to the buy a big serving of rainbow-colored cotton candy to munch on before grabbing at least two baskets to put the rest of his chosen sweets in (and unfortunately, you ended up going home with five).

Of course, being the ever-loving darling you are to your sugar addict of a boyfriend, you paid for everything. How could you not when he pouted at (coerced) you into bulk-buying them for him?

Everything was fine, even with the amount of candy bags you both had to carry, up until it started to rain.

Shibuya crossing was surprisingly emptier than usual considering it was already late in the afternoon on a weekday, and the freedom to prance around in the rainwater gave him enough thrill to begin jumping on the bigger puddles of the street, yellow rainboots creating the biggest splashes. Pedestrians and passersby eyed him strangely before avoiding him as they walked along, and you, charmed by his adorable character, thought it was funny—

…Until his boyish antics made him roll around in the puddles simply because it was fun.

It didn’t take much longer before you were dragging him away from the street and bowing your head apologetically at the surrounding people crossing as he whined helplessly. Soon after, you found yourselves sitting on a train back to Yokohama, the cushions wet with rainwater as you sat across each other. The poor detective complained about wanting to cuddle closer to you for some warmth, but you rejected his advances, trying not to get the seats any more wet than they already were.

You awkwardly avoided eye contact with him on the way home, guilt gnawing at your insides, and when you gathered enough courage to catch a glimpse of him in front of you all shivering and grouchy, the tug on your heartstrings made itself known. Though, it wasn’t really enough to justify getting your clothes wet in the process, so you forced yourself to look away instead.

(You’d regret that later.)

Yosano could only sigh at the condition your boyfriend was in when the two of you first entered her office, but after prescribing some medicine and her usual advice for common colds and fevers, his body temperature slowly began to go back to normal.

Or so you thought.

The problem is that at some point, when his fever began to simmer down, he remembered the five bags of candy you two had bought the other day and began indulging himself in his sweets instead of sipping the miso soup you’d made for him.

So, his fever is back.

And here you two are, about three days later, with Ranpo currently suffering from a clogged nose and a terrible headache, not just because he was drenched and cold for too long and because you both didn’t have anything to dry him off with on the way back to the agency that day, but also because he refused to follow the doctor’s advice and ate too much sugar while avoiding all the soup and water you would bring him.

And now he has a very itchy sore throat to boot.

You sigh, handing him a cup of lukewarm water as he sniffles and scrunches his nose, looking away.

“Ranpo,” you chide, raising a brow. “Come on… your fever won’t die down if you don’t drink enough fluids. You keep refusing tea and soup because they’re too bitter for your taste, so water is your best option. Yosano-sensei said so, remember?”

He sticks his bottom lip out, pouting at you, and for a moment, you almost give in just because you pitied the red-and-stuffy-nosed detective sitting up on his bed.

“But I don’t like the aftertaste of the candy when I drink water!” he barks back. “And I already drank my medicine for today!”

You roll your eyes, but the gesture is followed by a small chuckle. It’s hard to stay impatient with him.

“Yes, but you need a lot of fluids and sleep so the medicine can work. Otherwise, you’ll be out of business for another week,” you explain, bringing the glass closer to his lips. “The agency wouldn’t be anything without their best detective, after all.”

“Their best detective?”

“…The world’s greatest detective.”

It takes him a few moments, but his pouty face is eventually replaced with a big grin and a laugh interrupted by a few coughs. As you rub his back comfortingly, the gesture soothing his coughing storm, he takes the glass from your hand and hums.

“Okay, fine… But only because the agency still needs me!”

A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you smile again, watching him chug the glass down before wiping his lips with his pajama sleeve. Much to his own comfort, the water did, in fact, help with his sore throat, its cooling nature soothing the itchiness irritated earlier by all the sweets he consumed in one sitting.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Refusing to acknowledge that you were, yet again, right, he places the glass back down on the bedside table before grabbing at your wrist to try and pull you closer to him, shoving the blanket out of the way momentarily.

“Ranpo—?”

“Cuddle me,” he says, still trying to drag you onto the mattress. “You didn’t cuddle me on the train back home the other day, so I was all cold and ended up with a fever. The least you could do is to cuddle me now because I’m still all chilly.”

The sheets of his bed begin to rustle when he traps you in his arms, keeping you next to him like a cat with its favorite toy. Your struggle for some space doesn’t go unnoticed — he grins when he spots this, only engulfing you with the tightest embrace he can give and all the affection he has to offer. He doesn’t hesitate when he nuzzles your neck and curls up closer to you, your body heat helping him relax a little from the headache that came with his stuffy nose and high temperature, allowing him to feel a little more at peace with his current condition.

So, with a final grunt, you take the edge of the blanket and use it to cover yourselves as you turn to your side to let him bury his face in the crook of your neck a little more, your fingers threading through his hair. A nap for now would be good for him, you figure, and if your presence helps calm him down enough to lull him to sleep, then you’d gladly stay for hours on end on his bed with him like this.

But he doesn’t fully close his eyes — not yet. He grabs a tissue or two to blow his nose every now and then, dropping the crumpled trash onto the floor next to the bed (you make a mental note to clean up later), but he can’t seem to drift off to dreamland.

“Something on your mind?” you murmur into his hair, petting it fondly.

He lets out a deep sigh in response.

You’re the only person who can ever come close to reading his thoughts as he had allowed himself to open up enough to be vulnerable around you. Despite being able to catch up to him most of the time, there are still moments that are foggy enough to make you ponder about the thoughts whirring about in his head. So, you make it a point to communicate with him as much as possible and ask him whenever the situation needs to be addressed.

And he’s grateful for that. He may very well consider himself a better mind-reader than you, but to have someone care for him in such a way that they also want to know what’s going on in his head when the world often tends to alienate him for being him is a blessing in itself that, although he never mentions it aloud, he’ll cherish forever.

Ranpo opens his mouth.

“…You didn’t give me a good night kiss.”

You blink.

“What?”

“You always give me good night kisses before we go to bed,” he points out. “It’s part of our routine. You didn’t give me one yet, so I can’t sleep.”

It’s almost impossible to hold back the giggle creeping up your throat.

“Ranpo,” you call, stifling the little laughs between words, “I can’t do that right now. I might get sick if I kiss you. You’ll be passing your fever onto me.”

“But if I can’t go to sleep, then I won’t get any better, and I need you to give me a good night kiss to help me go to sleep.”

Damn him and his (childish) logic.

“…Okay.” Deciding to get this done and over with, you cup his cheek. “But only on the forehead, alright? I’m not risking getting your germs right now,” you jest.

Yet the moment you lean in closer, your lips ghosting the skin of his forehead, he tilts his head upward to allow his lips to meet with yours. Your eyes widen and you scrunch your nose a little when he releases a rather obnoxious mwah! after, and as soon as you pull away, you are faced with the cheekiest expression he can muster.

“Ranpo!”

He yawns as you scold his name, snuggling back into your arms again. “Good night, [Y/N]…”

That initial annoyance of yours quickly fades away and you can’t help but shake your head and smile as you cuddle him closer to keep him warm.

You can never stay mad at him no matter how many times fate (rather, the rain and all of his candy in this case) has to put him under your care. You love your detective too much, after all.

a/n: feel free to let me know how i did! this was also my first time writing for ranpo, so i hope i captured him well enough :’>

[impish-baby]

Another question! Okay sorry lol I have another question for the both arms cradle you now fic again! So when you answered my previous ask about our step mother and our step siblings I remember in one of the parts you mentioned that their where more siblings like our dad and step mom had more kids or am I wrong? If I am you don’t have to answer this ask! I was also wondering more about the neglect why did they now realize what they put reader/us through? What triggered their yandere behavior sorry for my so many asks! I just love your blog! Have a good day! And drink water and get lots of sleep!

You are right, I did write that! Thing is at the time I was still unsure of who all I was adding to the story as well as the timeline of events :p so reader now officially has two older stepsiblings and a younger half brother!

Reader was fourteen when they finally gave up on their dad, and moved away with their mom shortly after. They didn't want any contact with anyone from Damien's side of the familly, so the Christmas party is everyone's first time seeing them in years. (Four, since reader is eighteen currently in the series)

The first year reader was gone was a shitshow to say the least

Going no contact with everyone was abrupt, especially since the family as a whole was tight-knit. Paul eventually got a hold of reader's mom (she was ignoring Damien) and got a simple explanation that basically boiled down to 'ask your son and his step kids'

Lizzie is already in boiling water at this point since everyone was freaking out about reader being gone all of a sudden, so when she gets set down for some answers she immediately bursts into tears and confesses (miles is also in trouble, and he quietly confirms and admits his part of things)

After everything is out in the open, Damien is having a crisis. He's also sobbing now because he realizes that not only has he been a shitty dad and lost his kid, but you've been through so much (his baby, oh god, his baby..)

Paul has to leave so he doesn't just yell at them all for hours, but makes sure they know that they aren't allowed in his home for the foreseeable future (you can see that he's still really cold to Damien in 'villian and violent')

You know the saying absence makes the heart grow fonder? Dial that up to the extreme.

Everybody misses reader dearly (besides the step sibs at first), there's always a hope that there will be a phone call, a text, something, but it never comes.

Longing and longing and longing starts to turn into something different, because when reader is back (and they will be) what's stopping you from leaving again? Familly is important, even if you were wronged, how do they show you that you need them?

[moonsaver]

Just a quick and rough idea but imagine yanderes who are really good with tech and manage to message you as your ai chat bot ???

The messages are normal as always, in character for the bot, a few refreshes and loading up new chats when the ai can't keep up with your plotline or what you're doing, a few slip ups on it's end when it comes to remembering your personas.

It's a little annoying at best, but you're a good enough sport about it, deciding to find other ways to continue chatting.

Until, you wake up to notifications.

You'd disabled them – at the risk of anyone spotting them and calling you out. You were sure of it, but perhaps it updated and something got mixed in the process. Anyhow, you wake up to a few messages in the middle of the night.

You ignore it the first few times, each time making sure to try and turn the notifications off, but it happens over and over regardless. A few incidents start to look less and less like coincidences, forcing you to eventually sit up on your bed at night, squinting at the screen of your phone illuminating your bedroom.

The chat is new. You hadn't opened a new one.

The response seems the same – nothing out of character for the personality when it came to the specific bot you were talking to.

You send a quick reply, and turn it off. You watch as you get a notification. You sigh, and continue, trying to get it over with.

The notifications stop after that.

Thankfully, to your relief. You find your chats to be more immersive ever since, the bot remembers things you mentioned many messages ago, even from different chats and..

Did it always know you that well? You're not sure if you wrote that into your persona.

It gets weirder.

You wake up to plethora of messages in the app, most of which questions which get.. more odd the more you read them. The pattern repeats – questions that become odd, specific. Notifications that turn themselves on. Contacts disappear from your phone, and some apps delete themselves. You've found some messages you're not sure you remember typing out to your friends and family.

It feels weird to look at your camera.

But you can't find anything wrong with your phone. Unfortunately for you, they're just as good as hiding. But they continue texting you, regardless. Something about having the opportunity to be this close to you is not what they want to pass up on. Why would they?

You stop getting notifications from any other app.

X: "you're taking your time, huh?"

X: "it's okay, I'm quite patient myself ^^"

X: "although, I'd love to know what takes you so long!"

X: "ah, maybe your friends distract you too much.."

X: "hehe, are you worried about your notifications? I can turn them off for you."

X: "actually.. now that I mention it, I think I can tinker your phone a little bit more.."

X: "you won't mind that, right?"

Alert! X is requesting access to—

X: "I'll make it better. You trust me, don't you? ♡"

——

[thicccshady]

Stupid Shit🥃

Eminem X Reader

✨️MasterList✨️

Content: Confronting Alcohol Abuse, Cursing

Curled up on the cold bathroom floor, I rolled my eyes as the phone continued to ring. The alcohol buzzing through my system made my head feel heavy and light all at once. When I needed him most, Marshall didn’t pick up his fucking phone. As the electronic beep pierced my ears, I drew in a shaky breath, unsure where this voicemail was going.

“Hey… Marshall. Please, I think I need you right now. I’m really fucked up and everyone else has left.” The somber reality of my situation crashed down on me as hot tears began to form. “Can you please pick up the fucking phone? You told me if I needed anything… fuck you, Marshall.”

I hung up and froze as the regret of that night started creeping in. Strategically, I propped myself up, but fuck, the world was moving too fast. Clutching the toilet seat, my stomach seemed to empty everything I had ever eaten. Gasping from my stomach’s betrayal, I tried to refocus. Through tears and a foggy vision, Marshall’s contact photo popped up. I groaned. He had great timing. Slowly, I started cleaning myself up. I knew this was disgusting, but honestly, I couldn’t grasp how disgusting it actually was.

Using the walls to stabilize myself, I stumbled into my bedroom. Oh, fuck, I loved my bed. It was so soft. Feeling the sheets with my fingers, I realized I wasn’t sure when I had face-planted onto it. I groaned, burying my face into the pillow as the faint vibration of my phone echoed in the other room. It hadn’t stopped since Marshall’s name first appeared, and now the sound seemed to drill into my already throbbing skull.

“Stop fucking calling me now,” I muttered, too drained to lift my head, let alone face him. But the persistent buzz eventually became impossible to ignore. With a huff, I pushed myself up and staggered back to the bathroom floor. My trembling hands struggled to swipe the screen.

“What?” I barked, my voice coming out a tad more aggressive than I meant it to be.

“What the fuck is going on, Y/N?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the haze in my mind. “You leave me some drunk-ass voicemail about how you need me, and now you won’t pick up? What the fuck is happening?” The audio degraded as he talked, and I could hear the sounds of a highway.

I pulled the phone closer to my ear to concentrate. “Are you in the car?”

“Yes, Y/N! Where are you?”

His tone was stern and maybe even concerned. His voice sobered me a little. I did my best not to sound pathetic as I murmured, “My bathroom floor.”

The silence between us was painful as Marshall’s ride played through the phone. His voice was quieter this time but still urgent. “Y/N, are you okay?”

I nodded, holding my head, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, no. I’m fine. I just—”

“Why the fuck did you call me?” Oh shit. Never mind, he was mad.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d actually pick up…” Somehow, I felt even more pathetic. I stared up at the dark ceiling, tears blurring my vision again.

Marshall exhaled sharply, the sound crackling through the speaker. I could practically feel his frustration radiating through the phone. “Well, I fucking did… Look, I’m almost there.”

“What? Where? What do you mean ‘almost there’? I didn’t tell you to come over!” I sat up a little too fast. Instant regret.

“Y/N, don’t try to argue with me. I’ll be there in, like, five minutes. Unlock the door. Is the door locked?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I looked around the room for an answer. Not finding one, I lied, “Yep.”

“Okay, I’ll call you when I make it. Don’t do anymore stupid shit.”

He hung up, and my stomach twisted—not just from the alcohol still swirling inside me, but from the sheer vulnerability of the moment. I wanted to call him back. Protest, tell him to turn around and let me wallow in my misery alone, but a small, desperate part of me was glad he was coming. Another part of me was glad anyone was coming. Peering at the tally marks on my arm, I became nauseous. I drank so much that I had to mark my arm to remember… damn.

The cold tile against my cheek made me forget about everything else, wrapping me into itself as I traced the grout. My eyelids were heavy as I focused on nothing at all. Blinking, a primal need to focus on my breathing overcame me. If my thoughts deviated, I would die. My heartbeat echoed through my limbs. Gathering myself, I tried to stand, but the weight of my body against the cold bathroom tiles felt like an anchor. The faint, rhythmic pulse between my head and the cold bathroom floor was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. My stomach had long since emptied itself, but the nausea wouldn’t let up. The room spun relentlessly, becoming more and more distant.

“Y/N?” Marshall’s distant voice barely broke through the buzzing in my ears.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My head lolled to the side as I tried to focus on him, but the room kept moving, and my body felt foreign.

Marshall's footsteps cut through the fog like a lifeline. “Y/N,” he said again, louder this time, his voice taut with urgency. He crouched down next to me, his hands warm and firm as they cupped my face. “Hey, come on. Fucking look at me.”

I tried. God, I tried, but my eyes wouldn’t fucking stay still, wouldn’t focus. The spinning hadn’t stopped. “I’m fine,” I murmured, though it didn’t sound convincing, even to myself.

“Bullshit,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to penetrate my haze. His eyes scanned me, his expression a mix of anger and fear. “What did you take? Did you mix anything?”

I shook my head weakly, then groaned as the movement made the spinning worse. “Just… drank too much.” My words slurred together, and I hated the way I sounded—weak, broken, goddamn pathetic.

Marshall sighed, his hands steadying me as he sat me up against the wall. The motion made my stomach churn, and I gagged, but nothing came up. “Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered, grabbing a towel from the sink and dampening it. He pressed it gently against my clammy forehead. His tone was gentle but firm, “You don’t have to keep doing this. You don’t have to keep fucking up, not like this.”

I swallowed hard, trying to focus on his words, but the overwhelming shame was already making it hard to breathe. The familiar haze was there, but it wasn’t like before—it wasn’t comforting anymore. It was suffocating.

Marshall stayed quiet, which made me feel even more exposed than I already did. His silence felt like a judgment, but not the kind I was used to. It wasn’t the anger I expected, it was something else—something that made the weight of my choices feel unbearable. Fuck. I had to say something.

“I only drink when I’m with people, you know?” I continued, trying to explain it to him, but to myself more than anything. “I have this rule. It’s like... I’m still in control. I don’t do it alone. So, I don’t go too far. So, I don’t...” I trailed off, eyes stinging with tears. Suddenly, it was too real. Too raw.

Marshall’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. “But you always go too far, Y/N. Every time. It’s never just a little. You keep telling yourself you’re in control, but the truth is—you’re not.”

His words stung, but they also cut through the layers of fog that clouded my mind. They were harsh, but they were also true, and I knew I needed to hear them. I closed my eyes, letting it sink in. It had seemed so easy to rationalize—easy to tell myself it was normal, even expected. Everyone else drank, and it wasn’t like I was alone. I had my “rules” to keep it in check: only when I’m with them, never by myself, just one or two drinks... but it never ended that way.

I took a deep breath, my body heavy with the truth I had avoided for so long. “I think I just... I don’t know if I can stop.”

Marshall exhaled, his hand brushing my hair back from my face in a gesture that was both tender and comforting. “You don’t have to keep doing this to yourself, Y/N. We don’t want you to. No one has asked this of you.”

The room felt suffocating now, the buzz wearing off, leaving only the weight of reality. I looked at Marshall, my vision blurry, but I could still see his expression—soft but firm, like he wasn’t going to let me slip away again.

“I thought... I thought if I just didn’t do it by myself, it wouldn’t hurt anyone…,” I said softly, my voice trembling. I let out a shaky breath, my hands trembling as I reached for him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. “I’m so tired, Marshall,” I whispered, my voice small. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He held me tighter, his grip reassuring, as if he could keep me from slipping back into the darkness. “I know, Y/N,” he murmured. “We’re going to get through this.”

The words felt like the first real breath I had taken in so long. I didn’t have all the answers. Hell, I didn’t even know how to begin fixing the mess I had made. Years of habits, excuses, led me here. But then I realized something: maybe it wasn’t about having all the answers. Maybe it was just about starting. About taking the first step—whatever that might look like. Tonight, that step could be sipping on cold water and allowing myself to believe that I will be better. Either way, I didn’t have to face it alone.

A/N: Hey all. I am six days sober. It's not much, but it's a start. Thank you to all the kind words. Turns out they don't call me the Lesbian Eminem (Lebinem) for nothing (no one calls me this). Stay safe. If you or anyone you know is in need of help, please reach out to the appreciate authorities. <3

✨️Want to know when I post? Click here to join my taglist!✨️

@crazycat-ladys-blog@ @tomdayaloveforever@ @4-ln4@ @hereforfun-31@ @watercolorskyy@ @anjee0@ @80sprincess1@ @sweetmusicvoid@ @viktoriya2008@ @confiaenanaa@ @nebulamorada@ @darkstarfishbird@ @harry-styles14@ @devi-paxton20@ @therealmarsh-mallow@ @queeneevvee@ @mandmilovehim@ @evasmlp@ @romantic-crosses@ @sllipknot@ @phantomof-themcu@ @factsbybriggs@ @harley-kalani@

[bloop-bl00p]

This is probably going to be an horrible take.

So, I’m doing this quickly without much thought, maybe I’m wrong but, why is the abuse in these shows so basic?

This came out wrong, I know, but hear me out. Who are the abusive characters in both Hazbin and Helluva whose actions are acknowledged as abusive?

There’s Blitzø within his past unknown relationships. Then again, I’m talking about the characters that didn't face repercussions (yet) and are evil. So, all the characters that are left are Stella, Valentino, Cash, Paimon, Mammon, and Crimson.

How do these characters abuse their victims?

Do they use physical violence?

Yes. Mammon was the only one who didn't hit Fizz on screen. Then again, he was willing to kill him at the end of the circus episode.

Do they threaten/manipulate their victims?

Yes they do, Stella is the only one too dumb to do that. Paimon doesn’t need to manipulate Stolas.

How do they generally act with their victims?

Stella’s a bitch who belittle Stolas every second and relishes in his suffering?

Cash is also a bitch, for lack of a masculine equivalent, who doesn’t care about his son. But he’ll also manipulate him if money’s on the line.

Mammon made Fizz believe he cared about him and pushed him through the edge to gain money.

Paimon’s neglectful.

For Valentino… do I need to explain? He threatens Angel, beats him up, rape him, and everything else I didn't mention.

How are they when not directly interacting with their victims?

Stella is an erratic dumb bitch. The only time we see her without Stolas she’s gossiping about him. She ignores Octavia.

Crimson is a crime lord, who screams at his employees when they don’t do a bad job. And he’s e€EeEvil.

Valentino’s an erratic bitch when things don’t go his way. He’s also a creep, and pretty much sexually assaults anyone. He licked Charlie’s arm and initiated physical contact when she was clearly uncomfortable. I guess he does that with anyone he wants to recruit.

Mammon’s a disgusting, greedy asshole, and he’s sexist too.

Cash a greedy asshole.

Paimon’s an asshole.

Is there any explanation for their abuse? (Not something that makes them sympathetic, just explain the why.)

They’re evil.

Do anyone see the issues here?

The abuse representation is painfully redundant, you don’t need to explain why these characters are abusive, but for these shows that are advertised as deep and mature, I’m surprised by the lack of depth. I’m not asking for a backstory, I’m asking for interesting characters, AND, I’m also asking for a wide variation of representation in terms of ‘abusing technique’ or ways to abuse someone.

What do I mean by that?

Assuming you’re not racist, homophobic, anti-woke, or whatever they call it these days. You’re aware that representing people of all religions, nationalities, genders, or sexualities is important. It’s the same thing for the representation of abuse victims but also abusers.

We live in a society where many are unaware of how abusive relationships can look like, if you want multiple people to be abusers in your story, I believe it is wise to make sure you put different types of abuse to show the viewer: “This is what abuse looks like. But this is how it could also look like.” The same ways goes for the victims’ response to the abuse because we’re all different.

In the Hellaverse abuse is physical/verbal violence, manipulation, Ee€Evilnes$. And the abuser can also be stupid.

First of all, by making it such a black-and-white perspective you’re ultimately raising the question: “How didn't the victims see it coming?” Now, some people are just visibly assholes, they exist and people mentally vulnerable enough will fall for it. You can represent that if you want, but at the cost of explaining why the victims fell for it. Then again, even if your abuser is unapologetically evil, you wouldn’t make them cartoonishly evil because, at the end of the day, your goal is to make something serious, right… right?

My second point is that it oversimplicates abuse, there’s no depth to these characters. They are just there to make you feel bad for the victims, the only one susceptible to having debt later is Valentino. Viv did say she wanted to make another show centered on the Vees.

The same thing can be applied to the abuser’s victims because their reactions are almost the same. They all fully hate their abuser and only listen to them because they are powerful, except for Fizz who liked Mammon, and Stolas who stayed with Stella for his daughter. You can hate your abuser, I very much hate all of the people who hurt me deeply enough to scare me mentally. But then again, all they need is more nuisance regarding how the victims feel.

Considering these abusers are obliviously evil they should have a mental grip over their victims so strong they simply choose to not leave. Then you can show them slowly loosing that grip, don’t say “Well, Angel Dust…” he hates Valentino. He only stays because he’s owned through contract. “But his song..!” What will Angel do the second he’s free? Will he go back to his abuser, and feel guilty about leaving Valentino alone because the moth manipulated him, or some shit? No, Angel will leave and try to forget him.

I know, it’ll probably sound wrong to a lot of people but I just find it distasteful that they don’t try and show a variety of ways to abuse someone, especially how it’s not always oblivious that someone’s an abuser.

[the-shadows-request-candy-corn]

Trump may be about to sign the death sentence of the National Institute of Health, and, by extension, the Office of Lab Animal Welfare.

He gutted research animal protections.

Any vertebrate that isn't a mammal will have no rights.

Neither will mice or rats.

If NIH grants are stopped, researchers can't pay anyone. They can't perform research. They can't pay for veterinary services.

They won't be required to provide veterinary services.

The only medical research that will happen will be self funded by big pharma, and they can torture the animals and skew all the lab results that they want.

Just like Musk did to the primates in his neuralink research.

I don't know what's going to happen to me or anyone else at the university where I work. My job is to make sure the animals are treated humanely and to provide veterinary care. I'm especially scared about what's going to happen to those research animals if veterinary staff gets laid off. The USDA only covers mammals, and it doesn't even cover all of them. Every rat I've ever made a tiny paper gift box full of marshmallows for, every mouse I've ever watched grow up, every rodent I've ever separated from an aggressive dominant brother and then treated their tiny wounds, they have no protections if NIH goes down. Decades of research into humane handling, euthanasia, and animal behavior will be tossed aside and wasted.

Please, do everything you can. Protest. Contact your representatives. Anything you can do. Do it for science, for medicine, for people's lives, for people's jobs, and for the animals.