#me before: surely they can't be THAT good right?

[nochepsicodelica]

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

[beautifullilacsky]

"Will you overthinking this?" He asked as we were walking hand in hand in the park.

Me, fully aware I have already started overthinking the moment he mentioned that her friend broke off her relationship: "....... juuup"

"What are you overthinking about? Lets discuss it together, let me help"... I explained how, maybe, now that she is single, she might try to get over a guy by getting under another one. Or maybe, since you guys tall about problems and are pretty close, she turns to flirting now that she is single. "Okay and? Why would I get into that while I have my girlfriend at home? I would say no thank you. Also, I don't think she is the person to do that. I have met her before she was in a relationship, and she also wasn't like this then". Okay, well, .. maybe she will have heard bad things about me and will not like me or she will think I am not good enough for you, or too much, and tell you to break up with me. I mean, I'm in a relationship with you, not with her, but ja, well... He put his arms around me and stopped us from walking on, hugging me from behind. "Sometimes I forget how insecure you can be. Do you really think I'll just break up with you because someone tells me to? And besides, I think you should meet her. She is really kind and everytime I mentioned something, she was always more on the reassuring side." Well, I also thought your other friend was kind.. "..... true. ..... I don't have an argument against that."

"So... if she were to still be in a relationship, would it be okay? .. meh, I feel like that's a bad excuse. "Yeah she is in a relationship anyway" , as if that changes anything. Doesn't that sound like a bad thing to you?" Hmm. Well. Honestly, I felt better when she was in a relationship, assuming it wasn't an u know who typa relationship. It's always a 2 people's decision. And that way, I am at least sure that one side is on the no side (as I said it out loud, I realized how fuckedup it sounded.) "Shouldn't you trust me to already be on the no side?" .... I should, yes. I just don't know what to make of the fact that you told me that you can't promise me that it won't happen again. "That was a year ago" .... "back then I wasn't super sure, and before that I was def not sure. Also, I did not want to force you to trust me (def different exact words from his, buthey, u get the point.). It's been a year." Would you get back to it and say something different now then? "Yes. I am sure that it will never happen again".

And there it was. I know he is a firm believer in actions over words, but sometimes I need words to be sure. He told me that he tells me the truth, and I know he does. Thus, if he tells me, I believe him. So. Maybe this is what I needed to truly get to trusting him again. His word. It's not a signed contract, I know. I can't sue him if his words turn out to be false. Though, I needed this. I needed his faith in himself to make sure it won't happen again. Fuck damn hey. I needed him to believe in himself. If he doesn't believe he will stop it the next time, who am I to believe so? Well well well. Before he left, if our roommate wasn't sitting right next to me, I would've said after he asked me if I'm still okay (for like, the 3th time): "if you say it won't happen again, I trust you." Fuck. And I'd mean it. I feel like I have entered a new reality. One in which it is safe for me to have faith in him. In which, sure, maybe a girl will flirt with him, but I can laugh about it. I can be proud to be with that hotstuff that she can't help but talk to. I can make jokes about it and raise my eyebrows up and down. I can do it all, and enjoy the situation, knowing. Truly knowing. That it doesn't matter at all if the other party is on the "yes-boat". He isn't, and he won't get onto it either. Even if a chance presents itself, he won't even see it as one. He has the set in stone plan to come back home to me. Even if she would get him drunk and touch him all over, ... he will say no. Even if it scares me more with booze, he is still himself. He doesn't get into a crazy trans and turns into a different person with different values. He is still the same person who held my hand as we walked in the autumn colored park, and said that it would never happen again.

It feels like something in me has been freed. As if trust was a fluffy creature within me, which was tied down. His words freed it. It still can't believe that the tiny trust guy is free. That it's safe to stand up now and run and smile and truly trust. It's astonished, grasping for those words that set it free. Wanting to hold them and craving for them to invade its veins with its lightning energy and brightness. May it no longer feel the need to stay on the ground; the ties have been undone. Fuck.

[strangersteddierthings]

Made With Love

It takes one bite for Eddie to suspect he's done something wrong. A second bite confirms it. He's fucked up somehow and cannot for the life of him remember what it was.

Did he miss an important date of some sort? It couldn't have been their anniversary because that's August 13th (Eddie's new favorite day of the year, for obvious reasons). He absolutely didn't miss Steve's birthday. Not with how long he and Robin had spent planning the damn thing. (Eddie is never throwing another surprise party in his life; the stress of secret keeping was too much to bear.)

... Did he miss Robin's birthday?

No. That can't be. Steve would never let him miss that.

It could be one of the Party's birthdays, but Eddie doesn't think that's a transgression that would warrant this.

This, of course, being his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"What, your peanut butter's gone bad?"

Eddie lifts his eyes from the proof of Steve's anger at him to his coworker, Charlie, sitting across the table from him in the closet that Thatcher claims is the break room. "No. It's much worse than that, I'm afraid."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Charlie deadpans.

"This sandwich wasn't made with love," Eddie whines, looking back at the sandwich with as much sorrow as he can muster. He sets the sandwich down on the baggy he had pulled it out of so that he can frown down at it without having to touch the offending creation.

"Ah shit," Charlie says, voice filled with empathy. This is why he's Eddie's favorite coworker. He gets it. Possibly because he's the only person who's tasted the difference for himself, back when Eddie'd just started at Thatcher Tires. "What'd'ya do?"

"I don't know!" Eddie wails. "Everything was fine when I left this morning, or I thought it was anyway."

"Ain't your misses pretty good at lettin' you know you done fucked up?" Charlie, like the best coworker that he is, looks surprised that Eddie doesn't know what he's done. He's right, too. Steve is the goddamn king of petty, and Eddie has never struggled to know when Steve's mad at him. The struggle usually comes from Eddie refusing to be in the wrong.

(That's not to say that Eddie is always in the wrong. He's not. Sure, a good percent of their arguments Eddie is the one at fault and he's mature enough to admit so once the argument is over, but it's not always his fault.)

Anyway, the point is, regardless of who's at fault, Steve is angry at him about something and for the first time in months Eddie doesn't know what for. They'd promised each other, after their first very big fight that almost ended in a breakup and was over a misunderstanding, that they would tell each other why they're mad or upset or feeling some type of way. So for Eddie to not know...

He thinks he might have fucked up big time.

"I know!" Eddie cries, shoving the sandwich away from him to make room to drop his forehead onto the table, then turns to smoosh his cheek against the table so he can look at Charlie. "Charlie. Charlie what do I do?"

Charlie blows out a long breath, thinking, before he gives a decisive nod and says, "you gotta beg forgiveness."

Eddie knows Charlie's right. He doesn't know what he did but he's going to beg forgiveness anyway.

Which is how he now finds himself in the small floral section of the grocery store looking over the sad, wilted bouquets after work. His arms are already full with Steve's favorite ice cream, candies, an over-priced little blue teddy bear that's holding an 'It's A Boy!' card that Eddie plans to rip off, and a blank card with a painting of sunflowers on it that he plans to wax poetry about Steve inside.

The final part of his groveling is, of course, the flowers. It's the wrong season for sunflowers, so Eddie was going to settle for roses. It's just that these roses are all sad looking. They don't really scream 'I Love You More Than Anything Else In The World, Please Forgive Me For What I've Done' though.

Let it never be said that Eddie doesn't know how to beg forgiveness.

He ends up picking the least wilted looking bouquet, one with white and yellow flowers he can't name.

The cashier is an older lady who takes quick catalogue of his items and asks, "is it your anniversary, darling? Or, oh!" She picks up the blue bear and Eddie feels his ear heating with embarrassment as she coos, "are you expecting? How exciting!"

"Err, no, not, uh, no. It's just blue is hi-her favorite color, so I was planning to just cut off the little card," Eddie stutters out the lie. Blue isn't Steve's favorite color but Eddie's used to making up many little lies when talking to strangers. Being hate-crimed is not a passion of Eddie's. "I, uh, messed up. And I don't know what I did, but I'm going to make it right."

The lady smiles at him and gives him a firm nod as she scans the items. "Smart boy. I'm sure she'll forgive you."

Eddie gives her a smile he hopes isn't as tight-lipped as it feels on his face.

Back in the safety of his van, Eddie roots around until he finds a pen and gets to writing all the things he loves about Steve in the card and all the things he hopes they'll get to have in the future. Nothing they haven't spoken about before, but it still makes Eddie a little emotional writing it all down.

Once he's done writing, he pulls his pocket knife out and cuts off the 'It's A Boy' card from the bear, crumpling it up and tossing it in the back of the van to be forgotten. He shoves the sunflower card in it's place. His card is a bit wider than the previous one here so it stays in place, albeit precariously. He'll be careful handing it over to Steve.

He knows that Steve is at home already. Steve's always home first because he's off work at four compared to Eddie getting off work around five.

Well. Closer to five-thirty today with his stop at the grocery store. He really hopes that whatever has Steve mad at him isn't time related. Being late home without calling might earn him no favors if it's a time-based blunder.

Steve is in the kitchen, back to the door since he's facing the stove, as Eddie expected he might be. Which means that Eddie doesn't get to lay out all his Items of Forgiveness across the counter like he had hoped but that's okay. If the love of his life has chosen to forgive him, he knows Steve will be just as overjoyed to rifling through a bag of goodies as he would to pick them off the counter.

"Hi sweetheart," Eddie says, words oozing with adoration and sweetness.

"Hi baby," Steve's tone matches Eddie's, like an instinct to match Eddie's energy has written itself into Steve's DNA. And it might have. Eddie knows the reverse is true.

Steve turns from the stove, then, and his face lights up with delight and surprise. "What's all this?"

"Your favorite things, because I love you," Eddie says, raising his arms a bit. The grocery bag is looped over his wrist with flowers in one hand and the bear in the other.

Steve looks positively smitten.

Eddie is nailing this apology that isn't an apology. And let it be known; he cannot say he's sorry. It'll ruin everything. Because Steve, his wonderful, beautiful, kind and loving Stevie, will cock one perfect little caterpillar eyebrow and ask if Eddie knows what he's apologizing for, and Eddie will have to say he doesn't know and that isn't something he's willing to do. Especially not when it's looking like whatever Steve was mad about has completely slipped Steve's mind, too.

"I got your favorite ice cream, too, so we might want to get that into the freezer," Eddie says, passing the bear and card to Steve and shimmying around him to get to the freezer.

He lays the flowers on the counter and sets to emptying the bag. Ice cream in the freezer and goodies on the counter, while Steve reads the card silently behind him.

He knows he's successfully made up for whatever it was he had done, because Steve crowds him against the fridge shortly after setting the card down and turning the stove burner off, kissing him breathless.

Eddie even gets desert before dinner, with Steve all but dragging him to their bedroom.

-

The reddit post that inspired this -

[lo-bo-tomia]

you open up your phone and look for a picture to show them. You look and look but you can't seem to find any pictures of your friend's face. You tell them your plan and they say they've never taken a picture because it would defeat the whole purpose of hiding in plain sight when they're hiding. You remind them that they could just shapeshift into another face, and they laugh. I sure could...

What an idiot. They're desperate. They need their original form for that date. Certainly they can't go as a hawk. You're good at drawing faces, you say that.

You've been doing that your whole life, to capture people's essence. You enjoy drawing random faces you've seen by memory and sometimes the cute and funny expressions your friends make. They're not really contempt but they seem to absolutely need to go back to their original form.

So you start drawing. It doesn't take long. It looks good, or at least that's what you thought. That moron looks at the picture, and immediately shapeshifts into their original form. But something's deeply wrong. They look like... a shell of themself. It's like they couldn't remember their face even after seeing the drawing and they could only shapeshift into the drawing itself. It looks inhumane. They seem to notice right away, and break down crying. You try to comfort them. There must be a way to make them remember a vivid image of their face. You think about that old guy at the edge of the realm that knows how to communicate telepathically, even with images. And you think they could be able to show your friend their face, recover their memory or at least help them recover it. It's not a bad idea, but what about the date? The best solution would be to just tell the truth. It's a complex situation. Your friend is reluctant, and it takes you a solid half hour to convince them. But they refuse to talk. Your idea means you have to break the news. You go out and your friend shapeshifts into a hamster. It's cute, discreet, and they've got wet eyes. They want to look as pitiful as possible. The date's been waiting. You're late. Your friend points at them and you sit down next to them and say hi. They're confused. "I'm sorry, I'm waiting for someone" squeak. You didn't think a hamster could convey emotions so well with a simple squeak. But you swear that sound your friend just blurted out sounded so sad. "I know" You say "You've been waiting for this" and you point at your friend, the hamster. This didn't clarify anything. "I'm sorry, what?"

Your friend starts talking, in a very high pitched voice. "Hi Erin, it's me Alex. I know you were expecting a human but here we are"

"I swear I'm not a hamster, just an idiot. I'm actually a shapeshifter and forgot how to turn back to my original self. This friend over here is trying to help me with that. Could we maybe reschedule the hangout maybe when I look more... bipedal?" - "We were planning on blasting a memory of their original body in their mind, so that they can remember."

"Oh you mean to go to the mindreader at the edge of the realm to do this?"

"Well yea that was the plan"

"No need, that's my dad, I can do pretty much the same thing and I've seen Alex before. Just, I can't communicate telepathically with animals: I'm a little limited like that. It's not even that I literally can't it's more of a mental limit that I can't seem to shatter"

"No problem! I've got the solution" Squeaks Alex the Hamster. They immediately shapeshift into your drawing. It looks so wrong, even Erin is startled. "Yea I tried to make them remember by drawing them, but they just look like a shell of themself"

"That's terrifying, but I can work with that" Erin lays their hands out towards Alex. Their face lights up and immediately they shapeshift into their original form. "That's much better, thanks Erin, thank you friend"

"I guess there's no need to reschedule now, see you around Alex" You ditch them and go home. That seems to be a good combo. You hope the date goes well.

Your friend, a shapeshifter (a secret you've kept since childhood) hasn't answered your texts in days, so you head to their home. Upon arriving, you find that they're in the middle of an existential crisis; they can't remember how to turn back into their original, human form.

[ssentimentals]

hi! nini! i really liked how u write scoups promptsss… can i request for scoups 25 & 37 suggestive? i feel like this could go together. thank u, nini! have a great day! ><

hihi! aw, thank you!! i do think that cheol is the member that i find easier to write because in my delulu mind i think i get him correctly the most out of all guys :D thank you for requesting and have a great day too! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'sit down. now.' - 'watch your tone.'

oh, the urge to stand up, throw pillows from sofa to the ground and storm away with a head held high. oh, the urge to slam the door so loudly that windows will shake and all neighbours will startle in surprise. oh, the urge to hear seungcheol's answering groan and see his pissed off face. those urges are so strong that you almost make them all come true. almost. because when you spring up from the sofa, breathing fire from anger, seungcheol grabs your wrist before you can even do anything else and looking you into the eyes mutters darkly: 'sit down. now.'

his commanding tone never fails to send shivers up your spine, but you ignore it, sitting back down on the sofa. but a proud warrior doesn't go down without a fight, so you snark: 'how tables have turned, right? now you understand what it felt like last time, when you tried to leave? not so nice, does it?'

seungcheol narrows his eyes, squinting at you with a barely hidden annoyance. 'can you shut up for a second and let me talk?'

this time you glare at him, shaking his hand off your wrist. 'watch your tone, cheol. and don't tell me to shut up.'

seungcheol looks like he's not sure whether he wants to kiss you senseless to shut you up or if walking away right now seems to be a better decision. his left eye twitches and you try hard not to laugh, but he of course, notices. 'is all of this funny to you?' he asks, sliding up closer to you. 'you find this amusing?'

'i find you idiotic,' you retort haughtily, ignoring how he places his hand at your back. 'and very stupid.'

'good to know.' seungcheol hums, caressing your back gently and smirking, when you lean to the touch just a little. 'anything else you want to comment?'

smile wins over your features, when he cages you with his weight, not giving you any opportunities to run. locking your hands behind his neck, you pretend to think hard about it. 'hm, let's see. i think you're a sore loser, who can't bear to lose a fight to his girlfriend.'

seungcheol snorts and shakes his head. he leans in, kissing your forehead. 'what else?'

he starts peppering your whole face with kisses and you forget your train of thought; some really comebacks were ready but now your head is full of something else. 'you're even bigger idiot than i thought if you won't take me to bed now,' you settle for this at last, flushing from his intense gaze.

seungcheol smiles and lifts you up along with him, making you laugh with his: 'good thing i'm not a big idiot then.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[cherie-doll]

ughhh, tell me why i can't get könig being at his peak dilf era out of my head

like that man sometimes wakes up feeling tired even after he gets a full eight hours of sleep and will look in the mirror thinking he's let himself go from all the years of drinking alcohol giving him a dad bod but you love it??? like he doesn't understand why someone as attractive as you is going after him, seriously what's wrong with people nowadays he thinks?

but those muscles haven't gone away and they still are very much noticeable under those formal suits he wears to reunions ;D you're clinging to his arm, feeling him under the layers of clothes while he's sweating like crazy under it

he'll look around at your grand selection of younger candidates but you're stubborn on wanting this rugged bull

eventually his flaws would surely bore you, right? wrong, even in all those years of "experience" he doesn't realize that only makes you seek to grow closer not further apart

and he accidentally enables this, he'll be mindlessly trying to get a twig or something out of your hair and your mind is static just enjoying the feeling of those big, veiny hands running through your hair and that deep voice that is now slow and deliberate because he thinks before talking now, you saw that man washing the dishes and you just stand there leaning against the doorframe imagining him with an apron not caring if he's not washing the dishes right or he's letting the water drip everywhere

him snoring softly on the couch with a drink in his hand and you're practically frothing at the mouth with how good he looks in those sweatpants, or his appetite still being big and you don't care that he eats like two or three big plates in one sitting you're just glad he prefers home cooked meals to dining out

oh and he was prescribed glasses by the doctor so anytime he's reading or watching tv in the evenings you're blocking his view by sitting on his lap and pushing the glasses up or down his nose

and what about all the medicine he takes? twins! you too! him for physical health and you for mental-

doesn't matter if he's greying, feeling more tired, aching and feeling sore, takes things slower you want that man and it's making you feral.

[ugf-viridis]

I'm actually gonna chime in right quick on this, if that's alright.

As someone who has been impersonated many times on socials, across multiple personas, it does suck. It can have negative consequences, for sure. But you can't be everywhere, and you shouldn't place yourself in crappy online environments just because you're afraid that someone is going to pretend to be you and start trouble. 'Oh no, I better make an appearance on 8chan or someone will pretend to be me....' No.

As others have said, delete the profiles in toxic spaces. Your friends (and your enemies) will ask you what's up if someone's doing a good enough job impersonating you. And if they don't, then it's not really affecting you, so don't worry about it. And if you don't have people you can count on to do that (not everybody has a 'network,' or even wants to have one online) there are ways around the fuckery.

Easiest way is to link all of your profiles of the same type / persona and network those. Put 'em in your bio. That way, if someone sees something awful everyone knows where to find you to complain / dogpile about it. Over on main I crosspost. All accounts are basically clones of one another (partially for the aforementioned reason that people have impersonated me before, and caused trouble). But you don't even need to do that.

If someone wants to frame you up, they will find a way. It's a big internet and there's lots of mean people with lots of spare time on it. Don't worry about it. You're not gonna starve if you go a week without as many likes or replies. You'll live. You do you, and get out of toxic spaces, because, honestly, being in those toxic spaces reflects more poorly on you than the occasional episodic nonsense. And being in crappy communities is just bad for your outlook and your mental health. No worry. Just be a stand-up person and you'll be fine.

should you delete twitter and get bluesky? (or just get a bluesky in general)? here's what i've found:

yes. my answer was no before bc the former CEO of twitter who also sucked, jack dorsey, was on the board, but he left as of may 2024, and things have gotten a lot better. also a lot of japanese and korean artists have joined

don't delete your twitter. lock your account, use a service to delete all your tweets, delete the app off of your phone, and keep your account/handle so you can't be impersonated.

get a bluesky with the same handle, even if you won't use it, also so you won't be impersonated.

get the sky follower bridge extension for chrome or firefox. you can find everyone you follow on twitter AND everyone you blocked so you don't have to start fresh: https://skyfollowerbridge.com/

learn how to use its moderation tools (labelers, block lists, NSFW settings) so you can immediately cut out the grifters, fascists, t*rfs, AI freaks, have the NSFW content you want to see if you so choose, and moderate for triggers. here's a helpful thread with a lot of tools.

the bluesky phone app is pretty good, but there is also tweetdeck for bluesky, called https://deck.blue/ on desktop, if you miss tweetdeck.

bluesky has explicitly stated they do not use your data to train generative AI, which is nice to hear from an up and coming startup. obviously we can’t trust these companies and please use nightshade and glaze, but it’s good to hear.

[sturniolohouse]

dad!matt blurb - reader comes home to matt supporting june's new obsession with dogs.

"Matt... what are you doing?" I ask as I emerge from the hallway before spotting June sitting on our bed, flailing her tiny arms in a oversized hooded dog towel.

"Mama's home!" Matt beams at June and she squeals, the hood slipping over her eyes before he gently adjusts it, making sure the ears sit right. 

I stare at them, trying my best to keep a straight face. "I leave the house for a couple hours, and you’ve turned our daughter into a dog?" I deadpan, half-serious, leaning against the doorway,

"Don’t pin this on me," he says with mock seriousness. "This was all Junie's idea. She picked out her new towel,"

"Picked it out?" I repeat sarcastically, putting all my stuff down. "Matt, she's eight months old." I point out, trying not to laugh when I see the hood swallow her head again.

She looks so happy, her little legs kicking like she's having the time of her life.

Matt shrugs, still grinning.  "Look, she loves it, I couldn't resist." He sits next to her on the bed. 

Ever since Junie met Madison's dogs, Presley and Toast, she's been obsessed with dogs. Seeing them play together had her laughing hysterically. Plus, they're so good with her, so patient. Now, even when we go on our daily walks in the park, her face lights up at the sight of every dog we pass.

Matt can't wait until we go back to Boston so she can see Trevor again with her new-found love of dogs.

I shake my head, walking over to them and get a closer look at our little "puppy." She looks up at me with her big blue eyes, babbling happily, showing off her bottom two teeth.

"Do you like it Junie?" I ask her as she reaches for me, tugging on my shirt to lift herself up.

"Mamamamama" she mumbles, standing up with her grip on me. I instantly place my hands on either side of her incase she loses balance, even though she'll fall right on the bed if she did. 

Matt watches proudly, his eyes wide, "Look at you go, kid," he praises, moving to stand behind me, hands on his hips. 

"Good job, baby," I encourage her, laughing when she squeezes her eyes shut and tosses her head back with excitement. She's nearly falls back on her bum but I steady her, keeping her close to me. Her towel falls away and I see her clad in a new matching puppy print PJ set.

I smirk and look to Matt, "Let me guess...she picked this out too?"

"Nope, that one was all me." He says proudly.

She's been standing while holding onto things recently. The first time she did it was actually around Chris a couple weeks ago, and he nearly lost his mind.

Matt had driven Nick to the warehouse to work on a project and Chris stood back to give me a hand watching June as I got my own work done in the old podcast studio.

When I heard him call my name frantically, my heart dropped, thinking the worst. But when I came downstairs, I found him frozen on the couch, arms out, eyes wide and staring at Junie, who was standing up, gripping the arm of the couch for balance. 

"She's never done that before, right?" He laughs in shock, grabbing his phone out to film as my hands cover my mouth.

I shake my head, "No... Junie, where did you learn that? You're making Mama nervous," I said, half-laughing, slowly making my way toward her as she smiles at me without a care in the world.

"I swear on my life, I looked away for less than a minute. She was just playing with her toys on the mat and the next minute she's standing." he recounts, still in shock and I sit down on the floor next to June who moves immediately to my lap. 

"Guess we gotta get to baby-proofing," I joke, biting at June's hand playfully when she reaches for my face.

When Matt got home and heard what happened, he was so mad he missed it. He tried everything to get her to do it again���putting her toys on the coffee table, the couch, even trying to get her to stand while holding his fingers. But each time, she'd just plop right back down, giving him a cheeky grin.

She always manages to stand whenever we're not looking—almost as if she knows how much we want to catch her in the act.

But today, I guess she's ready to be a show-off.

She bounces a bit on her little legs and looks over at Matt, her face bright with excitement. He praises her softly, his voice full of pride, and she giggles in delight, soaking up every bit of the attention.

"Standing before you even crawl... you gotta slow down, June-bug." I say to her playfully, as she looks between Matt and I.

"She's about ready to walk," Matt says, letting her grab his finger for more balance.

"Don't say that," I murmur, a pang of bittersweetness in my chest as I watch them. "She's my baby."

"She'll always be your baby," He reminds me softly, kissing my forehead. I scoop her into my arms at that moment and smother her cheek with kisses, squeezing her tight to me.

Then, to my surprise, she scrunches her little face and sniffles, leaning forward to sniff at mine, just like Presley always does to her.

I burst into laughter, my head tossing back, "Oh my God, Matt, did you teach her this?"

Matt chuckles, hands in the air in mock defense. "I swear I didn’t! I think Presley’s just rubbing off on her."

I giggle, but wince as Junie decides to tug at a fistful of my hair.

I'm going to be bald by the time I'm 24.

"Hey, hey, easy kid," Matt says softly, stepping forward to help. 

He gently pries Junie's surprisingly strong grip from my hair, his face twisting with a mix of concentration and sympathy as he carefully untangles her tiny fingers. 

"She's got a real talent for that," he jokes, gently rubbing the tender spot where my hair was tugged. 

I huff, adjusting Junie on my hip after sweeping my hair onto my other shoulder, far from her reach. 

Junie babbles in response, her tiny hands smacking against my chest, gripping my necklace instead. Matt takes the opportunity to lean in and blow a raspberry on her cheek, making her squeal with delight and let up her grip on my necklace. Her giggles are contagious, and I find myself laughing along with her.

"You’re a little menace, kid." I tease, kissing her on the top of her head. "A cute one, though."

[luvismenu]

08 — a motherfuckin' train wreck ✎ ,, index

wc: 4.2k

note: i am sorry idk abt the warnings cuz the whole chapter is messy 😭 and yes you guys guessed it right (iseul's gonna make an appearance!)

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

@internetrando64 @jkvias @134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24

“i am rethinking. about us.”

her words from the night before wouldn’t stop echoing in his head

jungkook exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. his gaze unfocused, caught somewhere between the present and the past.

iseul.

she had been everything to him once.

his first real relationship. his first real love.

the memories came flooding back, uninvited and relentless. the way her laugh used to light up a room, how her hand had felt so perfectly small and warm in his, those late night talks where they dreamed up futures that, deep down, he always feared were too perfect to last.

but with those good memories came the ones that stung like old wounds being reopened. the arguments that spiraled over nothing, the long silences that spoke louder than words, the way she’d criticize him without realizing how deeply it cut.

he always held himself back with her. constantly.

he never told her how much it hurt when she brushed off his insecurities like they were nothing or when she dismissed his emotions because she was too consumed by her own. every fight left him questioning himself, every moment of indifference making him feel like he was chasing something he could never quite reach.

he loved her.

god, he loved her with everything he had. but it was like pouring water into a cup with a crack. it was never enough to fill it.

so why, after all this time, did a part of him still miss her?

his jaw tightened as the question lingered, gnawing at him.

do i even miss her? he thought, his fists clenching against the edge of his desk. or is it just the feeling of someone being there for him?

he wasn’t sure. maybe it was the comfort or the familiarity, the security of knowing someone so deeply. even if they never truly knew you back.

he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. just as he was about to shut the door on the memories, another one crept in.

“i miss you.”

it felt so real. and maybe that’s why he felt so thrown. because she had always been his first. and part of him wasn’t ready to accept that she is now his past.

he didn’t even notice when he started pacing around the room, his thoughts spiraling into a chaotic mess. the sound of students outside didn’t register. he couldn’t stop replaying it all in his head; the good, the bad, and the confusing.

then his phone dings.

the sound cuts through the noise in his head, drawing his attention away from the chaos of his own thoughts. he glances at the screen, and it’s a text from you.

he can't see you right now. not with everything that’s been weighing on him. he won’t be able to talk to you like everything’s fine, like nothing’s wrong.

but he still wants to see you.

he wants to apologise for giving you the cold shoulder last night. that was not okay. he knows it.

he texts you back and when he sees—

y/n: can you take me home,, i feel weird

the words are simple, but they hit him like a jolt. his shoulders tense as worry rushes in, overtaking everything else in his mind.

without hesitation, he types back.

he doesn’t give himself time to think. he shoves his phone back into his pocket, glancing at the clock on the wall. the campus café is all the way on the other side of the building. ten minutes feels like a stretch, but it doesn’t matter.

jungkook grabs his bag, tossing his scattered papers into it with little care, and slings it over his shoulder.

the weight of everything else; iseul, the confusion, the lingering ache of his pastfades into the background. right now, all he cares about is getting to you

but then, as if summoned by his thoughts, a voice broke through the haze.

“jungkook.”

his heart sinks.

he turned, and there she was. iseul. standing there like a ghost from his past, her presence pulling him under like a tide he couldn’t fight.

“we need to talk,” she said softly, taking a step closer.

he froze, every instinct screaming at him to leave, to walk away before he fell back into the same cycle of hurt and longing.

“what are you doing here? iseul, i—” he started, but the words died in his throat.

“just..,” she interrupted. “hear me out.”

he shook his head. “this isn’t a good time. i have to—”

“please,” she interrupted again, stepping closer. “just a few minutes. that’s all i’m asking.”

hs wanted to say no. to tell her it was too late.

he wanted to walk away, to find you and make sure you were okay. but another part of him—the part that still hadn’t figured out how to let go of her—kept him rooted to the spot, like he's caught between the person he used to be and the person he iis now.

“why now?” he asked quietly,

“because i can’t stop thinking about you,” she said, her voice trembling. “about us. jungkook, i know it's messed up, but i... i don’t want to lose you for good.”

her words hit him like a weight, but they didn’t bring the clarity he thought they would. instead, they only added to the mess in his head.

“iseul,” he started, but his voice faltered.

“we were good together, weren’t we?” she asked, her tone almost pleading. “don’t you miss it?”

he clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists before slowly loosening them again. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

it was the truth.

he didn’t know what he missed anymore. was it her? the person she used to be? or was it just the memories of her, those glimpses of a time that felt simpler, even if it wasn’t?

“have you.. have you moved on? from me?” iseul’s voice was light, almost disbelieving, like the idea of him letting go was unfathomable.

he stood there, silent, confusion swirling in his chest like a storm he couldn’t calm.

“i want to,” he said at last, his voice steady but low.

her breath hitched. “why? don’t you love me, jungkook?” her voice trembled, the edge of desperation creeping in. “you love me, right? remember what you told me? you loved being with me. you told me you’d always love me. you love me, don't you?”

he didn’t respond immediately. her words wrapped around him, tight and suffocating, dragging him back to moments he wasn’t sure he wanted to revisit.

“iseul, you were my everything. but i... wasn’t yours.” his voice was low and steady.

her eyes widen, panic flashing across her face. “what are you even talking about? honey, i loved—” she hesitates, catching herself, “i love you.”

he let out a bitter chuckle, one that held no warmth. it was hollow, sharp. “you loved me?” he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “is this why you broke up with me? because you got tired of me, isn’t it?”

“no, i—”

“i was showing off, wasn’t i? that’s what you said. that i was trying to prove i was better than you. isn’t that it?”

she opened her mouth but no words came out. her silence was damning, and he felt the old wound tearing open again.

“how do you expect me to come back after that?” he asked slowly, his voice softer but cutting, his eyes burning into hers. “after you told me how you really thought about me?”

“i-i’m sorry, jungkook—” her voice wavered, cracking under the weight of his glare.

“shut up.” his words were sharp, final, a wall slamming down between them.

she frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. “you found someone else, didn’t you?” her voice softened, but the edge was unmistakable.

jungkook’s jaw tightened. “that’s not—”

“it is, isn’t it?” she interrupted, stepping closer, her gaze searching his face. “you wanna move on, it’s because of her, isn’t it?”

“iseul,” he said firmly, taking a step back, “this isn’t about anyone else."

“no, it’s about you forgetting me!,” she said, her tone turning sharp. “you’re moving on like none of it mattered. after everything we had? after everything i gave you?”

he stared at her, disbelief flashing across his features. “everything you gave me? iseul, you walked away. you ended things.”

“because you made it impossible!” she snapped, her voice trembling, but not with sadness, it was frustration. “you were always so… so needy, jungkook. always wanting more from me than i could give, and now you’re giving that part of yourself to someone else? it’s not fair.”

“not fair?” he repeated, his voice rising. “iseul, do you even hear yourself? you’re the one who—”

“but you still love me,” she said suddenly, her tone dropping into something softer, almost pleading. “i know you do. you can’t just stop loving someone like me. i can see it in your eyes, jungkook. don’t lie to me.”

he shook his head, trying to clear the fog of her words, her voice wrapping around his thoughts like vines. “iseul, this—”

“come back to me,” she whispered, her hand brushing his arm, her touch cold despite its gentleness. “we can make it work this time. i’ll be better, i promise. you will be better. don’t throw us away because of some stupid misunderstanding.”

he pulled his arm away, his chest tightening with a mix of anger and something he couldn’t quite name. “you don’t get it do you? you don't get to decide this anymore.”

“jungkook,” she said, her voice trembling, a tear sliding down her cheek. “please.”

but he could see through it now. the desperation in her voice wasn’t love. it was control. it was the fear of losing something she always controlled. something she can use for her own satisfaction.

without another word, he turned his back on her, to walk away.

“she will hate you!” iseul’s voice broke through the quiet, it was sharp. there was no pain in her tone, only anger, her tears more of a weapon than a sign of sadness.

he stiffened at her words, but he didn’t stop. his steps were steady, as he moved further away from her.

“you’ll fuck this up with her too!” she spat, her voice trembling with frustration. “just like you always do, jungkook! you ruin every fucking thing!”

he clenched his fists, his shoulders tightening for a brief moment, but he didn’t look back. he kept walking. each step felt heavier, but he told himself it was the right thing. he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. not anymore.

as he reaches the exit of the building, he remembers..

you.

you asked him to take you home.

that's when he realizes,

he messed up.

his chest tightens as he pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling to unlock it. there are a few unread texts from you. each message making it clear that you aren’t doing well.

his stomach churns. he clenches his jaw, pushing down the wave of guilt threatening to consume him. without wasting another second, he strides towards the café, his pace quick and uneven, his breaths coming heavier with each step.

when he finally arrives, his eyes scan the room, darting between the tables, searching desperately for you.

but you’re not here.

the sight of the empty chair where he expected you to be makes his heart drop.

he told you he would be there.

but he wasn't.

panic floods him as he unlocks his phone, his heart racing. there’s no new message from you, no call. just silence. he swallows thickly, the guilt clawing at him.

what if you waited too long? what if you left because he made you feel like you couldn’t count on him?

fuck.

“you’re crazy, you know that?”

“heard that a lot before,” you chuckle tiredly, lifting the glass of water to your lips. the cool liquid does little to ease the heaviness in your chest.

min yoongi glares at you, crossing his arms.

“you should be glad i was going to meet someone from campus and happened to see you,” he says, standing stiffly beside your bed like he’s holding back a lecture.

“t-thanks, min yoongi, for bringing me home and taking care of me,” you mumble, offering a small smile.

he sighs, his expression softening. “just call me yoongi.”

you nod, your smile growing a little, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“seriously, though, what were you doing there alone?” he asks, his tone concerned but firm.

you freeze for a moment, your fingers tightening around the glass. you remember. you were waiting for jungkook.

and now, the memory stings.

it was stupid of you to even ask him. why would he help you? you’re not even close friends. you’re just... you don’t even know what you are.

your chest tightens with a mixture of emotions.

anger. sadness. disappointment.

he’s been distant and you’ve ignored it, convincing yourself it was fine, that it's none of your business.

but this? this was too much.

“i... i was going to call someone, but then you saw me,” you lie, forcing a casual shrug.

yoongi narrows his eyes slightly, not missing the hesitation in your voice. “call who?”

right. of course, he’d ask. he knows how lonely you are.

“i don’t know, someone.” you say quickly, hoping it sounds believable.

yoongi exhales deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “next time, at least call jungkook. i won’t always be hanging around that area, you know.”

your head snaps up, and the words tumble out before you can stop them. “why would i? it's not like we're friends.”

his brows lift in surprise. “not friends?”

“we’re hooking up. that’s it. nothing more.”

his lips press into a thin line, and he nods slowly. he doesn’t push further, though you can see the questions in his eyes.

“i’ll get you some meds. take some rest, okay?” he says finally, his voice softer now.

you nod, watching as he leaves the room, the sound of his footsteps fading.

as soon as the door clicks shut, you sigh and sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

this is stupid. all of it.

as yoongi heads to the front door of your apartment; a small plastic bag with medicines in hand, he stops short when he sees jungkook standing there. his breathing is uneven, his chest rising and falling like he just ran all the way up the stairs.

“jungkook? what are you doing here?” yoongi asks, his brows furrowing in surprise.

jungkook glances at him, his expression a mixture of worry and hesitation, like he’s not sure if he should be there at all. “___... is she here?” he asks, his voice low and strained.

“yeah, i just brought her home,” yoongi replies, still studying him. “she has a bit of a fever and—”

“is she okay?” jungkook cuts him off, stepping closer. “did you take her to the hospital?”

yoongi blinks at the urgency in his voice, raising a hand to calm him. “it’s just a fever, jungkook. she said she hasn’t been sleeping much these past few days. she'll be alright if she takes some rest.”

jungkook exhales, his shoulders slumping slightly as relief washes over him.

“what are you doing here anyway? don’t you have the expo to prepare for?” yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow.

jungkook shifts on his feet, looking down for a moment. “i... i need to give her the book,” he says, the words hesitant and unconvincing. “so, yeah.”

yoongi glances down at jungkook's hands, his brow furrowing slightly as he notices the obvious absence of the book he was supposed to bring.

yoongi doesn’t buy it for a second, but he doesn’t push.

“how did you find her?” jungkook asks, clearly wanting to steer the conversation away from himself.

“i was going to meet jimin at the café and saw her there,” yoongi explains. “girl looked like she was about to faint. i keep telling her to stop overworking herself, but you know how she is.”

jungkook’s jaw tightens as he listens, guilt creeping into his expression.

“are you guys...” yoongi starts, pausing as he studies him. “fighting?”

jungkook looks taken aback, blinking rapidly. “n-no. why?”

yoongi shrugs casually, though his eyes are sharp. “nothing. just curious.”

he holds out the bag. “here, give these to her.” his voice softens slightly. “and both of you, calm down.”

jungkook hesitates for a moment before taking the bag, gripping it tightly as yoongi steps aside to leave. he watches as yoongi walks away.

jungkook steels himself, his hand hovering over the doorknob. he isn’t sure what he’s going to say, but he knows he needs to see you.

you close your eyes again, trying to steady your thoughts, but they keep circling back to him.

jungkook.

why does he have this hold on you?

he's just someone you're hooking up with, nothing more. at least, that's what you keep telling yourself. you shouldn’t be so worked up over this. it’s not like you’re dating, or even that close outside of… whatever this is.

but still, you asked for him. for once, you needed something more than just hooking up.

you can take care of yourself. it's not even a big deal, you've been through worse but earlier today, for some reason, you needed him to just be there. with you.

and he wasn’t.

a bitter laugh bubbles in your throat as you think about it. maybe this was your mistake. leaning on someone who wasn’t meant to be leaned on.

but then, another thought creeps in, one you wish would stay buried.

maybe it wasn’t his fault. he did say he was busy, with all the chaos around the business expo. he must be exhausted too, running himself into the ground like he always does.

and it’s not like you ever check on him.

what right do you have to be mad?

how can you be mad at him?

but then the memory of sitting at that café alone, feeling sick and hoping he’d come, flashes in your mind.

fuck that.

how can you not be mad at him?

you sigh, opening your eyes and staring blankly at the ceiling.

and just when you think you’ve finally managed to push him out of your mind, you hear the sound of the front door closing. you assume it’s yoongi coming back with the meds, so you don’t bother looking.

but then his footsteps sound different, heavier than yoongi’s usual quiet steps. your brows furrow as the sound grows closer, and before you can fully register it, there he is.

jeon jungkook.

he steps into the room, a plastic bag in his hand, his expression tense and unmistakably guilty. his eyes find yours, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something, but no words come out.

you blink at him, sitting up slightly, your emotions a mix of disbelief, anger, and something you can’t quite name.

“jungkook,” you say, his name barely more than a whisper, a mix of disbelief and something sharper laced in your tone.

he doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at you, as though trying to figure out what to say or whether to even say anything at all. the tension hangs heavy in the air, and it takes everything in you not to crumble over your own emotions.

“hey,” he finally breathes out, his voice soft but uneven.

you sit up straighter, “what are you doing here?”

he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down at the plastic bag in his hand. “you weren’t feeling well and-”

“and you suddenly care?” you bite back, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

he flinches at your tone, his gaze meeting yours, and for a second, you see something vulnerable flash across his face.

he takes a step closer, his voice soft. “of course i care—”

“then where were you?” you snap. “where was all this care when i just wanted you to...” your words trail off, stuck in your throat.

to take care of me? to be there for me?

you shake your head at yourself, biting back the words.

that’s ridiculous.

this shouldn’t even matter.

but why does it matter?

why do you care about him not showing up?

“i had to take care of something,” he says, carefully placing the plastic bag on your bed. his tone feels apologetic, but it doesn’t reach you.

you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “something?” you repeat bitterly, your voice laced with doubt.

he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “i... i met someone, okay?” his gaze flickers away from yours, like he can’t bear to meet it. “and i don’t know, i froze a little. she... well, that doesn’t matter. the point is that, i know i took too long. i know i messed up. i’m sorry, ___. i didn’t mean to stand you up like that.”

she.

that one word hits you harder than you expect, twisting something deep inside your chest. you can’t stop the flood of thoughts racing through your mind.

someone else.

he was with someone else.

your jaw tightens, and you try to keep your voice steady, but it comes out colder than you intended. “and that’s supposed to make this better?”

he doesn't say anything

“why are you here, jungkook?”

“i wanted to check on you, i am worried.” he finally says, his voice quieter than usual.

“check on me?” you repeat, the bitterness in your tone impossible to hide. “you weren’t too worried when you left me waiting.”

his jaw tightens now, and he takes a tentative step closer. “i know. i messed up, alright? i know i did. that’s why i’m here.”

you scoff, turning away from him as frustration bubbles up inside you. “what do you want me to say, jungkook? that it’s okay? that i’ll just forget about it? i feel stupid to think that i even texted you.”

“___.” he says quickly, his voice firmer now. “i’m not asking you to forget it. i just... i just want you to know i didn’t mean for it to happen. i didn't mean to keep you waiting.”

“but you did,” you snap, spinning back to face him.

his face falls, and for a moment, you almost feel bad. almost.

you mentally curse yourself for letting your emotions take control. this is stupid. he’s not even your boyfriend. why should it matter who he was with? or what he was doing with her?

this shouldn't be a big deal.

but you can’t stop it, the anger building up inside you. “it’s not even about this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’ve been acting distant lately, and i get it, you’ve got your own things going on, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like this. it makes me feel... i don’t even know, it just feels really fucking awful. and let me be clear, i’ve got my own stuff to handle too. nd i don't want to feel this way. if you're busy and you can't be there, just fucking tell me that you’ve got other things going on. don't think i'm gonna be okay with just waiting around and dealing with it.” your eyes snap at him. “i will not play that game.”

he lets out a deep breath and looks at you. “it’s not a game, okay? i just... i had to deal with something. and the moment i could, i came straight to you. i feel shitty about it. and let me be clear too. i would never do something like this to you, not again.”

“okay, good.” you deadpan.

silence.

“you should rest,” he says, his voice quieter now.

“yeah," you reply, not even looking at him, your eyes fixed on the bed, anything but him.

“do you need any-”

“jungkook.” you cut him off, your voice steady but sharp. you finally look up at him, eyes cold. “i need to be alone. please, leave.”

he just sighs, his face falling. “okay.” he nods, his voice low, almost defeated.

without another word, he turns and walks out, the door clicking softly behind him.

and as the silence settles in again, you sigh.

“i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck.”

[starrbar]

I've been furiously wondering about this, like I would LOVE to see all the events that took "Vi died during the job in this version" to basically a perfect Zaun where everyone else is happy.

The only idea I've had so far is that like, Vander has been struggling to keep his people satisfied with the painful status quo he's got the Lanes in because of his refusal to ever fight again. Vander was overcorrecting here because he didn't want anyone else to get killed.

Well, he didn't fight Piltover and one of his daughters still got killed.

Maybe that kind of made him realize that this status quo isn't what will keep his people safe in the end, it can't be maintained forever, and it didn't even protect his family. I dunno if he would have gone back out to search for Silco after this or if Silco would have heard about it and maybe finally approached him instead?

I love the idea of Silco being like, "Well, look at that. You sure are doing a good job keeping everyone safe." Kinda twist the knife because he still never received that letter and he's still hurt over the betrayal, so fuck Vander's feelings, right?

But Vander is like... idk, probably awfully conflicted. Angry and upset ofc, but he doesn't get physical cause he can't possibly regret what he did before only to do something like that again (as in that's what he thinks, so no punching or choking allowed, even if deserved in that moment). Maybe he's even kinda defeated about it or wrapped up in the shock of seeing Silco again since he apparently just never came back?

And they have one of those REALLY juicy, harsh fights that does eventually lead to them making up because at least now they're talking about it. Blurting out years of pent up hurt and pain and dead hopes, in an environment where they're on equal terms instead of Vander needing to focus on begging Silco not to destroy everything.

I love this timeline and I wanna see every speck of it??

also if anyone writes this scene out before I maybe possibly start to consider writing it myself, if anyone posts this, DM it to me, I'll read it in a heartbeat and cry about it. x3

🚨Crack theory🚨 but at first I was confused how Vi's death led to an alternate universe where everything is a utopia. Even if Hextech was never invented it doesnt explain how all the class disparity was solved. And then I realized it was probably this:

Vander and Silco are the only ones who really had a plan for a unified and independent Zaun. My theory: after the accident, Vander went into grief over the death of his daughter and stumbled pathetically into the arms of his ex-twink, finally apologized for trying to kill him that one time, they get back together and solve all poverty with the power of old man yaoi. (Also Silco stops making drugs at some point)

[pityroadart]

Here's my piece for the @mcspirkevents Big Bang! I was paired with the excellent @twinkboimler and their fic Jim Kirk's Guide to Delivering the Goods, which you can find here (E, AOS McSpirk, 60k)

Summer just started, and Jim is bored out of his mind. The courses he needs to take aren’t being offered until the second half of the summer, so he has an entire month to bother his roommate Bones. At Bones’ suggestion to get a job, Jim fixes up a motorbike and starts making deliveries to people in town, including a cute Vulcan professor named Spock. But when Jim is beaten up while making a delivery, it’s Spock who delivers Jim back to the apartment he shares with Bones. After the meet-cute from hell, Spock and Bones start dating… and so do Jim and Spock. With neither roommate aware they’re both dating the same man, there’s only so long that things can go well for them before the other shoe finally drops.

Also as part of my Big Bang offerings, I made a fic playlist (below) — partly a love letter to McSpirk, partly a love letter to myself and Fletcher's overlapping music taste.

Thank you again to Fletcher @twinkboimler for working on this project with me, it's been an absolute joy!

Until the Birds Return on Spotify

Tracks and choice lyrics below the cut (contains vague spoilers):

Astronaut | Future Crib

I wanna be an astronaut Fly into space I wanna see Mars from Venus I wanna go to that place And if you come with me They'll be room in my ship I'll take you up there with me It can be just you and me

Afraid of Heights | boygenius

I never rode a motorcycle I never smoked a cigarette I wanna live a vibrant life But I wanna die a boring death

Day by Day | Old Sea Brigade

Time and time again, I think I'm falling through space And I wake up in my bed just sweating in sheets

... Then I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart

Factories | Autoheart

When you found my body by the lake You wasn't sure if I was still alive

You and Your Friend | Snake River Conspiracy

Must we go run through our lives with our eyes closed To the loving happiness that we can share I think I'm in love with you and your friend

My Gal, My Guy | Darlingside

My (guy) he's the bluest ocean, (he) Waits under the bluest sky for me I belong to (him) When I'm in the water

Santa Fe | Autoheart

Heaven sent You were like a present I should not have kept A sticker on your forehead saying 'breakable And I broke you bad

Coat on a Hook | The National

Two days, we're still not talking You're the opposite of an open book Come back for me

Top to Toe | Fenne Lily

So I'm changing all my days To make your nights It's just not right

Pigeon Song | Patrick Wolf

Now the pigeons gather 'round my feeding hand And we talk 'til the evening fades I have learnt how it goes What you wait for never shows And what you least wanted, holds you down like a stone

Hornets | The National

But I don't wanna leave And I don't wanna hide I just don't wanna run Into you tonight

Tea, Milk & Honey | Oh Pep!

If you stick with me, I'll make sure your time is all right If you don't understand where I am now, it's better if we leave it

The Spiritual | Jukebox the Ghost

We might have kissed a bit too soon I could feel what was coming and I didn't mean to hurry you I just knew that time would find our fingers linked, through and through Forgive me, I'm human too

Bike Dream | Rostam

Two boys, one to kiss your neck And one to bring you breakfast Get you out of bed

Don't Go | Yazoo

Can't stop now Don't you know I ain't never gonna let you go

Jenny | The Mountain Goats

I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you I sank my face into your hair And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious as the warm desert air And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on 900 cc's of raw whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest

Old Old Fashioned | Josh Ritter (Frightened Rabbit cover)

Oh let's get old fashioned Back to how things used to be If I get old, old fashioned Would you get old, old fashioned with me?

[starlightguh]

Mermaid Hotel

Word Count: 2,198

Summary: When Thomas decides to stick you and Rafayel in a cheesy themed mermaid suite, he thinks he’s getting revenge on Rafayel. Little did he know the room came with a water bed, and Rafayel is very good at controlling the tides.

Tags: Smut, water bed sex, NSFW, porn with very little plot

A/N: Sooo, this might not be my best work but I needed some practice to get over my writers block, so bam. Water bed sex. Read at your own risk, but MDNI! Enjoy all you Raf girlyss~

Rafayel had invited me on an impromptu trip to his latest art gallery. He was very insistent on it since he claimed the city where the gala was being held had the most beautiful beaches. I needed a break from the insane influx of wanderers, so I agreed. It would take us two days to get to the city we needed to be in since we had a late layover flight.

Thomas was usually in charge of all of Rafayel’s travel plans, I guess he was frantic when Raf demanded last minute that I be added as a plus one. I feel bad for Thomas sometimes, since Rafayel can be very demanding, but I know the bickering between the two in a way, feels almost familial. Though, little did we anticipate, Thomas had a small version of revenge up his sleeve.

Me and Rafayel were a bit exhausted from our long flight and were sluggish in the hotel lobby. However, as soon as we reached our room, we were jolted with surprise.

The neon moodlighting reflected off the clear plastic of fake bubbles along the walls, there were fishnets and various aquatic themed posters also on the walls. It was a mermaid themed room.

“Now this is just offensive,” Rafayel’s face contourted in disgust at the kitsch decor of the room.

I felt a burst of laughter erupt from my chest at this ordeal, “I guess this is what you get for giving Thomas gray hairs.” I set my bags down and began to take a look at all the cute mermaid and fish themed nicknacks that had adorned the dresser below the tv.

With a drained sigh he walks over to the bed that has a giant seashell headboard, he stares at it and reaches out to poke it, “A water bed really? That’s so outdated.” Rafayel rolls his eyes and scoffs at the bed as if it personally offended him.

I turn with wide eyes, “Really? I’ve never slept on a water bed before.”

Rafayel chuckles, “It’s not exactly practical cutie.” He then pauses briefly as his eyes catch something on the dresser.

I quirk my head at his sudden peak of interest as he walks over and grabs an iridescent blue vase, it almost looks like an antique perfume bottle. Rafayel inspects it by trying to swish it around and determine if there’s liquid inside.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It couldn’t possibly be what I think it is, there’s no way a cheap hotel like this would have Lumerian scents…” He popped the topper off the vase and inhaled. Suddenly, it was like a switch had been flipped.

Rafayel immediately started panting and groaning.

“Raf? Are you okay?” I touched his shoulder to check on him and he tried to push me off with a slight hiss.

“This is…” he gasped as one of his hands clasped at the front of his shirt, “It’s…Lumerian…It’s a pheromone…One a bride would typically use on her wedding.”

He seemed in agony as he closed the vase and fell to his knees on the floor. His purple-pinkish eyes nearly looked black as he looked up at me with nothing but desperation painted across his face as he whimpered my name.

“Help….I…I can't, I need you right now….” He gasped and raised his torso to hug my legs and nuzzle into them with desperation.

I was at a loss of words at this sudden shift, but with the tight grip he had on the back of my thigh and the look in his eye, I let out a shaky breath and nodded, “I’m not sure what happened to you, but whatever you need. I’m yours…”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Rafayel stood and lifted me by my hips as he threw my back against the bed. As I fell back, the plop of water sloshing resounded in my ear as the next thing I knew Rafayel’s lips were on my neck as his hands lifted up my legs.

“Raf-“ I gasped at his boldness, his actions were hurried and desperate as he tried to hold on to my body desperately as if I would drift off like the waves of the water beneath us.

“Shhh, I need this right now or I’ll go crazy…Let me take care of you my beloved bride,” he groans as he slides off my leggings and panties all at once.

He lets out a shaky breath at my exposed form and I start to feel dizzy as Rafayel then begins to drool on my bare sex and licks his lips as he brings his face down to give an experimental lick. I arch my body up and close my thighs around his head, trapping his face to my hole.

He doesn’t move as he just sensually licks and sucks at me like he’s savoring his favorite ice cream. My moans are drowned out in my own ears as I can hear nothing but the water in the bed slosh around. It felt like I had laid back in the bathtub and could hear only sounds of water moving with my body, except, unlike the bathtub, the only thing wet was the mixture of slick and saliva as Rafayel ate me out.

My thighs gripped his face harder as he purposely sucked my sensitive bud, “C-Close…I’m close,” I gasped.

I received nothing but a happy humm in response, the vibrations of his voice sending me over the edge as I moaned with fervor at my release.

“Rafa….” I gapped as I opened my thighs to release his face. He pulled back and stared at me with those dark eyes as he undid his belt. His cheeks and ears were a bit tinged in a blush as his purple fluffy hair was now disheveled and his lower lips covered in my essence.

Never breaking eye contact, he ripped his high waisted black pants down and his usual low cut white shirt was gone in an instant as he crawled on top of my body. The motion of him climbing on top of me caused the water to propel me even closer to him as my bare cunt brushed against his still covered lower half.

As I could feel his hard length against me, I was taken aback as he laughed deeply in my ear. The reveberations of his laughter caused the waterbed to shake abit and I was moving up and down like I was floating in a lazy river. “What’s so funny?” I asked as he looked down at me with a bright and cheeky smirk, his usual teasing pink coloring returning to his eyes.

“You should see how you look right now, like a birdy drowning in the sea with how much you keep moving back and forth.”

“Well, I’m being swallowed by the motion of the water, what else am I supposed to do? How are you so composed on this thing?”

He sat up as he began to take off his boxers, a confident and arrogant expression painting his face, “Me and the waters are one and the same,” after he finished undressing and I can see his dripping length standing straight as he comes closer to whisper in my ear once more, “We’re both unpredictable and all encompassing.”

With that his hands slide down my torso to then lift up my shirt and push it over my head, his mouth meeting the pebbles of my now erect nipples. I let out a small moan at the sensation and desperation of his suckling mouth on my chest.

With a pop his mouth leaves my nipple as he laughs while moving his hips to make the water shake me, I’m at a loss as the waves make my body move sporadically. I try and sit up to have a similar vantage as Rafayel, but he meets my lips in a passionate kiss as I lay flat against my back.

“Are you ready for me my bride?” His voice is almost unfamiliar as its deep purr resounds into my very core and I shiver.

I let out a shaky yes and suddenly I gasp as he slams a knee into the bed and suddenly the motion of my body slides to connect him and me in one swift motion. “N-no fair! That was sneaky!”

“Shhh, you know you love it cutie,” he laughs as both of his hands grip the sides of my hips. Rafayel’s lips trail into the crook of my neck as his hips send crashing waves into the bed as he thrusts in and out of me with a smooth rhythm.

“I must say, this is actually fulfilling some fantasies of mine.”

I whine as he hits a sensitive spot within me and bites down on my neck, “Raf-Please.” I feel breathless as my body is floating in pleasure with every crash of our hips. The water surrounding us in this cheap mattress make me feel as if I’m drowning in an endless ocean of pleasure. I was drowning in Rafayel’s very being, and I never wanted to come up for air.

“Please,” he mocks me in a deep voice, “I should make you beg more for the way you’re driving me wild.” He removes his face from my neck and meets my lips to force them to open for him. With a moan he sucks on my tongue and his hips speed up.

The wetness of our bodies and groans of exctasy mix with the sounds of splashing waves of the bed below us. My nails find their way to Rafayels back and I drag them down as I feel my crescendo reaching.

I pull away from his lips and lean my back and yell out his name. “Rafayel!”

He lets out a shaky breath as he continues at a relentless pace, “Not yet, just a bit more cutie.” Rafayel grunts as he presses me deeper into the sinking bed. I clench around him unable to control my own bodily reactions.

“I can’t! Rafayel please,” I can feel tears welling in the corner of my eyes from trying my best to hold off my orgasm, but finally as his hips slam even deeper within me, I lose myself.

“Come for me, my beloved bride,” he pants as he keeps the same rhythm.

I feel weightless as my legs shake from intense pleasure and the rest of my body goes slack as Rafayel keeps chasing his high. I lightly drag my fingers up from the scratched I made on his back to reach up into the hair at the nape of his neck.

I dig my fingers in a bit gently and pull as my eyes meet his intense purple gaze, “Let go Rafayel…”

His face contorts into an almost melancholic pout as he scrunches his eyes closed and with a final thrust that resounds a smack throughout the cheesy themed room, I feel the warmth of his spend drip into me.

Rafayel pants and collapses ontop of me as he hums with pleasure in his voice as his body is still painting my insides.

“Well that certainly is one for the books for me,” my voice is a bit gravelly and hoarse as I laugh at the absurdity of our situation.

“I actually think I might have to thank Thomas instead of yelling at him,” Rafayel grumbles into my chest.

“And here I thought you didn’t like water beds,” I started to run my hands through his hair as I teased him.

“You know I think I might buy a couple for my studio now,” he props his chin up on my chest and looks at me with a cheeky smirk, “Only if you test them out with me.”

“While this was fun, I don’t know how fun sleeping on this will actually be.”

He reached a hand out to touch my cheek, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on them, “Who said anything about sleeping?”

After a few spent moments of us basking in the after glow, we got up and cleaned ourselves off to actually get some needed sleep. As I glanced back at that blue bottle on the counter, I couldn’t help my curiosity.

“Rafayel, what is that pheromone that made you crazy? You said something about Lumeria, right?”

He crosses his arm and stares at me with a pout, “Well, I’m not sure you need to know what it is, just know that I’ll be taking that stuff with me to use at a further date. So prepare yourself miss bodyguard, because next time you won’t walk away so easily from me.”

“Is that a threat?” I laugh as he lays down next to me and captures me in his arms. He once again manipulates the unease of the waters below us to push my body as close as possible to his.

“Oh cutie, it’s a promise.” He kisses the crown of my head as the waves and the warmth of his arms help me drift off to a peaceful slumber.

That night I dream of a life underseas and a purpled haired merman worshiping my body with the waves surrounding us.

~fin~

[satounooba]

I'm sure most who have scrolled my page have figured out I have this type of attraction; I didn't fully come to terms until my early 20s. First had a hint in my early teens and then repressed because I couldn't risk anyone knowing. If you hate on people with this kind of attraction, you are hurting that 14 year old kid who is scared because they find elementary schoolers attractive. I was lucky I never got myself into some serious fucking trouble too, since I was raised in a super puritan "christian" household where I learned practically everything is a sin in some way. My only morals at the time boiled down to "don't get caught" because of how many things were "bad." At some point I planned to take the secret to my grave but later on a friend "came out" about their attractions and that made me aware of mine again and I basically came crying to them wondering if I should end it before I hurt someone because I saw an opportunity for help that wouldn't ruin my life. If I had that help earlier it would have saved a lot of pain for me and would have given me guidance other than "hide it." But people want some cozy "good vs. evil" dichotomy where all the world's evil is done by "them": the bad evil people who "aren't actually people", and the good people is "us": the people who can't possibly do evil. So people with cluster B PDs, often cluster A as well, pedophiles, and anyone who gets any of those labels slapped on them regardless of validity, go down the drain "just to be safe." I'd be surprised if whoever reading this doesn't have someone close to them that fits in any of the above categories often use as scapegoats. The ugly truth is that everyone is capable of unimaginable harm especially given the right motive. (P.S. read Ender's Game if you haven't because that ruined me seeing this concept laid out regardless of what the author's intentions were.)

Pls pls pls pls tell me you don't support pedos ur posts are so hot and cool I don't wanna have to unfollow you

obviously this ask is in bad faith and u can fuck of for that.

but just so we are clear what i dont support is sexual assault and i think we should be doing what we can to help children be able to recognise and get help in such situations, which to be clear, statistically usually comes from someone they know, often a family member.

this stupid fucking framing of "the pedos" being this sick group of individuals that are hunting down our kids is so fucking dumb, im not interested in going after anyone for the way they think, thought crimes dont fucking exist. We should be dealing with all the issues that lead to adults in positions of power of children being able to abuse the system to get away with it.

stop falling for this shit. if you constantly other and dehumanize these types of crimes people will be less likely to believe victims when their abuser is even somewhat respected by anyone, because surely they couldnt possibly be as bad as those disgusting pedos right??? they arent people they're monsters!!!!!

if you disagree then please do unfollow me

[nobodyfamousposts]

Missing Sneak Peak (SUBJECT TO CHANGE)

The truth is out about Marinette's predicament, and to everyone's surprise, Chloe calls Ladybug:

"I need a favor."

It was a standoff.

Ladybug had faced down akumas, false heroes, monsters of man and magic, and even Hawk Moth himself. And not once had she ever backed down or given up.

But Chloe Bourgeois was nothing if not stubborn. She was long used to getting what she wanted.

And she wasn't going to let something as simple as facing an opponent with a mask and superpowers deter her.

“Look, I worked with you before. That has to mean something, right? I helped you before! Against my Dad and against Hawk Moth on Heroes Day! You…you owe me.”

Ladybug looked unimpressed. “The Miraculous do not entitle you to anything, Chloe.”

“No, hear met out!” Chloe insisted. “You trusted me to help you. And I did! I put my life on the line as your teammate. So…so that warrants something, doesn’t it? I deserve something! A wish. An ask. Just one request.”

The hero frowned. But Chloe was undeterred.

“So look, just…bring her back already. Bring back Marinette Dupain-Cheng and every stupidly good and positive thing she brings with her, and I’ll…I don’t know. I’ll find some way to return the favor.”

Ladybug simply stared at her. Blank. Unfeeling.

“I can pay you! Even superheroes need money, right?”

“Chloe….”

“I’ll be better! No more akumas, I promise!”

“Chloe.”

“I’ll be nicer! I’ll stop bugging my Dad for things and stop causing problems!”

“That's not—h”

“I'll donate my wardrobe to charity!”

“I can't just—"

“I’ll stop making comments to my classmates! I’ll just shut up completely! I’ll get voice surgery if I have to!”

“Chloe, that’s not how it works—”

“NO! It HAS to work!” She shouted, cutting her off. Because she refused—she refused to accept any other answer. “You’re Ladybug! You always make it work! So you can just make this work, too!”

Silence.

“Please.” Chloe begged. “This is the one good thing I have. I don’t want to—I can’t give it up!”

Ladybug simply looked at her, almost pityingly.

“Please." Chloe repeated. "Just this one thing. That's all.”

Ladybug simply shook her head, leaving Chloe feeling hollow.

And without even a word, Ladybug turned away.

Chloe just stared after her in shock.

Because Ladybug was Ladybug. A hero. THE hero. Always there. Always helpful. Always caring.

So why…?

Why didn’t she care now?

Then…

…it hit her.

And Chloe laughed.

How could she not?

“Of course.“ She laughed mournfully. “Of course she had gotten to you too.”

Because of course even Ladybug would be different.

Because of course if anyone could have helped make a Ladybug into the great hero she was today, it would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

----------------------------------------

“Chloe?" Adrien called out as he entered her room, worried and unsure. "Is everything okay? You were crying on the phone and…”

He froze, seeing Chloe curled up next to her Bee signal.

“Chloe?”

She didn’t move or answer immediately. He was worried she didn’t even realize he was there, given how blankly she seemed to be staring into nothing.

“Chloe?” He asked as he approached.

Silence.

Unsure of what else to do, he sat next to her and waited.

Chloe had gotten like this before. A long, long time ago.

She would have these times where she'd get quiet and small. And he would sit next to her, just barely touching. Close enough that she'd know he was there and could decide from there if she wanted to lean on him or push away. He always left it up to her. Always waited. Because Chloe never pushed him away. And with enough time, she would voice her feelings, just loud enough that he could hear.

...and sure enough...

“My Mom forgot my name today.” She whispered.

Adrien paused.

He knew how much that had to hurt her. Chloe’s Mother was everything to her. Everything she idolized and admired. Everything she wanted and wanted to be. He’d never seen her happier than when her Mom settled back in Paris and returned to her life.

It had meant everything to her. And to lose it again…

“I’m sorry, Chloe.” He said, leaning closer to her. “I thought things were better.”

“They were.” She sniffed, trying to hold back the hurt. “They were better. And do you know why?”

She laughed, startling him with how bitter it sounded.

“Chloe?”

“It was because of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Because of course it was!" She started off lowly, but her tone grew angrier the more she spoke. "Because of course she is! Because of. Freaking. COURSE if ANYONE was to get my Mom to do better and treat me like I’m actually family and just be a mom, it would be stupid perfect Marinette!”

She curled in on herself with a sob.

“Not…not me.”

Despite her efforts, the tears began to flow.

“And…and now—”

She hiccuped, forcing herself to speak.

“I heard it, you know. They're saying that Marinette got hit by that akuma and now not only did she disappear, but everything—everything connected to her is disappearing, too. Like…how? How does that even work? How does one person affect that much? She was just…just a little nobody! She didn’t matter!” Chloe lowered her head. “At least, she didn’t use to.”

Adrien frowned, wanting to argue, but forced himself to not speak.

Chloe filled the silence instead.

“And it was scary learning she was fading, because that could happen to you or me or anyone, but it was like no big deal, right? Because  yeah, she’s done some things and helped some people but it's not like she did that much, right? So her being gone wouldn't matter that much. Surely she didn’t impact me.” Her eyes clenched shut. “But she did, and now it’s hitting me in the face just how much of what I had was because of her and…and…”

She tried to wipe at her eye, only for more tears to trail.

“And now just like that! It’s all gone! Just back to how it was before. Like—like it never happened! Mom caring about me? Loving me? Yeah right! When did that ever happen? It wasn't me being awesome or a good daughter or following in her footsteps that got my Mom's attention!" She smiled falsely, tears falling from her eyes in a sad show of her true feelings.

"Nope! It wasn't anything about me! It wasn't even about Mom realizing she loves me! Everything we got to have was all only because of Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” She exclaimed with a wild waving of her hands. "Isn't that lovely? Isn't that awesome? Isn't it great how she just fixed everything and brought us together into the happy little family I'd been wanting for years?"

“Chloe…”

She shook her head, showing a bitter smile.

“And now because of stupid akumas and stupid magic, Marinette isn’t here. And because she isn’t here, she wasn’t there. And because she wasn’t there, it didn’t happen. And because it didn’t happen, everything’s just…poof! Gone! Just like that! Just like magic!”

She clenched her fists, her smile falling. “And now I know it never would have happened on its own. Not with just me. Not without her. It was only because of her that I had my Mom back at all. And now that she’s gone, I’m gonna lose that too and…and…”

She sobbed.

“It’s not fair.”

It wasn’t, he agreed internally because what could he actually say?

He understood her feelings about her Mom. It was hold he felt with his own Dad. Never feeling enough. And to have someone else come in and fix that…he wasn’t sure whether he would be grateful or hurt. He was even less sure how he would respond.

…he would feel sad. He knew that much.

“And the worst part? Ladybug is just the same. Harsh sometimes, but not like that. Never like that.”

Silence.

A breath.

“What does that say?” Chloe asked. “When her being gone makes that big of a difference? With my hero AND with my Mom. Not me. Not anyone. No. It's because of Her.”

Adrien stared in surprise. He'd known Ladybug was off, but even Chloe had noticed a difference? It was jarring.

“Ladybug is?”

Chloe wiped her tears. “She's different. You've noticed, haven't you?” She paused, before shrugging. “Though maybe you haven't been around her enough to. But she's different, too. Everyone is different without her. Ladybug. My Mom...I get why. I remember what happened to start it, but still...”

He had as Chat, but he couldn't tell her that.

“And I hate it!” She suddenly exclaimed, anger rushing through her. “I hate it because it means it was nothing about me that made it even happen or made me worth it in the first place but it was everything about her and I hate that but I’m so selfish because—yeah okay, I hate it but I’ll still take it if it means I get to have this and it’s still better than not having Mom at all even if I only got it this way but now I can’t even have that much anymore and soon I never will have had it at all and it'll be like it never happened and it’s not fair!” She ended up shouting, slamming her fist into the ground.

“Chloe!”

“I’m not good, but it’s not fair!”

He hesitated for a moment.

But it was only a moment before he drew her into his arms and let her cry.

He wanted to speak and reassure her. Insist that she was wrong and she was more than enough. It was the right thing to say. The kind thing.

But he was still learning and growing and still so very scared of saying the wrong thing.

Nino had helped him. Listened to him. Helping him without even saying a thing.

Because it was what he needed…because sometimes people needed to make their voices heard more than they needed kind words.

And Adrien could do that much.

So he sat by her, waiting in solidarity and support. The friend and listener she needed as she cried.

[tyunized]

AFTERCARE WITH TXT~ (thoughts)

warnings :: mentions of sex (minors dni 🔞), mentions of oral, fluff, long-termbf!txt, touching, kissing. Did I miss any?

fem!reader

note :: Since you all liked the PDA with TXT thoughts, I think you will like this one ❤ again thank you for 100+ notes on that one guys, I really appreciate it.

my rules.

🌱 ― Soobin.

After making love to you, he would gently fetch a cool, damp cloth to tenderly wipe you down, knowing how steamy and hot things can get. As he soothes your skin, he can't resist stealing soft kisses here and there, his lips brushing against yours with warmth. Between each gentle touch, he whispers sweet reassurances, telling you just how amazing you were “The way you rode me was amazing, baby”.Then a gentle touchy cuddle session will happen, he enjoys cuddling face to face with you, caressing your shoulders or hands, just admiring your beauty.

🌱 ― Yeonjun.

Yeonjun would carefully wipe you down with a cool towel also like Soobin, ensuring your comfort after the intimacy you shared. Thoughtful as ever, he'd make sure you stay hydrated, offering you a glass of water or a soothing cup of tea. Once you’re refreshed, he’d wrap you in a warm blanket, pulling you close as his gentle voice asks about your favorite moments, eager to hear what made you moan the loudest. Between your words, he’d pepper you with soft kisses on your forehead. reminding you how much he adores every part of you. As the conversation flows, he’d share his own favorite moments, his voice warm and filled with affection, making sure you know just how much he treasures the time you spend together.

🌱 ― Beomgyu.

Beomgyu wouldn’t miss the chance to tease you after sex, a playful smirk lighting up his face as he leans in close. “I guess I really am the only one who can make you feel like that,” or “You were losing it when I ate you out—you really can’t handle me, can you?” His teasing would leave you flustered, he loves your adorable reactions. But beneath his playful personality, Beomgyu is just as caring. He’ll encourage you to take it easy, his tone softening as he says, “You should rest now, babe. It’s good for you.” He believes the importance of letting your body recover, insisting that sleep or relaxation is the best way to recharge. Pulling you into his arms or tucking you in with a warm blanket, he’d make sure you’re completely comfortable before letting the teasing drop, just for a little while.

🌱 ― Taehyun.

Taehyun is all about romance, he’ll run a warm bath for both of you (candles and everything). Terry doesn’t recognize his own strength sometimes so he knows sex can be a bit rough, causing you to be a bit sore afterwards. He’d run a warm bath for both of you, and bring in your favorite bath oils. The water would be just the right temperature, the soft glow of candles dancing off the surface as he guides you in first, his hands steady and reassuring.Settling in behind you, he’d let you lean against his chest, with his muscles gently hugging around your shoulders and neck. His wet hands, firm yet gentle, would glide over your skin, seeking out every knot of tension. Starting with your shoulders, he’d work his way down your back. “Does this feel good for you, love?”

🌱 ― Hueningkai.

Kai will make sure that you have a cozy environment after sex, setting up more pillows if you need, dim lighting, making up the bed. With quiet care, he smooths out the sheets and straightens the blankets, making the bed a sanctuary (STREAM THE ALBUM) of warmth and relaxation. He moves with ease, pausing to check in with you, his gentle smile or a soft touch on your shoulder letting you know he’s focused entirely on your comfort. As he finishes, he might sit beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face or whispering sweet words, ensuring you feel completely safe, loved, and at peaceful space that he created.

[prettybiching]

Okay. Okay.

*deep breaths*

Girl (gn), the gasp I just let out terrified the ghosts in my room.

First and foremost, I love love loveeeee her scenes with the Cargyll brothers always. The way we always see her as *herself*, beyond her ailment, beyond her concerns of putting up an act, both as a Hightower daughter and/or a Targaryen wife. She's just herself, without being worried that she's disappointing Otto or Daemon.

And the way she's so playful with Erryk 😭😭 it made me sob because it was probably the first time in a long time that she was able to be that happy and cheerful, pulling pranks on a friend that sees her for who she is! (I don't even want to think about the fact that the last time she experienced something like this was probably in old town w gwayne when they were children)

I love the way you portray Otto's relationship with the reader because he's not black and white with his motives, only using his daughter to raise his House's standing. Rather, he's a complex character with layers, he's still a father - albeit a shitty one at that.

He loves his daughter, in his own twisted way. How he ensures that she's not having a fit before dropping the baby bomb on her. He worries for her, knows her ticks. But it's the way he uses his love and knowledge regarding her to get his own way and to get the reaction he wants out of her that's the most twisted.

Also, I love how we're seeing mc slowly but surely starting to stand up for herself. WE LOVE GROWTH IM SO PROUD OF HER, I COULD CRY.

Day 173822 of begging daemon to just be normal for once in his life.

Honestly speaking, I was one of the few that voted for reader to prioritise herself and not go after either gwayne or daemon but ohh!!! I loved loved loved this scene.

Her realising that she's going to have to get used to not having gwayne at every turn and stopping herself. Ugh, my heart hurts.

ALSO DAEMON YOU LITTLE RAT, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT BEING MAD AT MY GIRL FOR NOT BEING THERE WHEN YOU DEGRADED HER THE LAST TIME AND NOT IN THE SEXY WAY!!!!

Her telling him to speak what he wants and not twist his words is soooo real. YES GIRLL SET IT STRAIGHT WE DONT WANT EXTRA HEADACHES IN OUR LIVES!!

I just remembered that she still thinks that night was a dream and I'm heartbroken again </3

Pls daemon why do you have to choose aggression and rage every fucking time. Just be cute for once ugghhh.

"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."

prettybiching.exe has stopped responding. Please try again later.

Nahhh I can't do this fam, good bye. I'm going to touch some grass.

Good night. Au revoir. Author, I love you. Thank you for blessing me with your brain and words. Please never stop <3

(ps I'd love to be added to the taglist, please and thanks!)

Tormented Spirit | 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.

He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.

"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."

Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.

"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.

Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"

"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"

"HOPSCOTCH!"

A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.

"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.

You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."

Erryk's face only contorts further.

"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."

In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.

"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."

He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."

You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."

Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."

You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.

He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."

You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.

He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"

He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.

You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"

Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"

Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"

"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."

You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."

Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."

"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"

Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."

"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.

"Say what?" you knit your brows.

Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."

Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.

You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"

"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."

Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"

Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."

You feel bile rise up your throat.

"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."

You shake your head, and gather your skirts.

"As has the prince."

Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.

As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.

You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.

Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"

You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"

"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."

"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."

Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"

"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."

He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."

You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"

"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.

Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"

Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"

You stare blankly at him.

He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"

You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."

Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.

You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.

"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"

You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."

Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."

Your jaw clenches.

"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."

You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"

He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."

You whip your head to him and pull away.

Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.

"W-what?"

He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."

You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.

"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."

Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.

You try to take his hand, but he slips away.

"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.

Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.

"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.

You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"

"Perhaps you should sit down first."

You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.

"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.

You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.

"Princess, please, slow down," one says.

You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.

"Princess."

You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.

You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.

Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.

It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.

You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."

He stares at you wordlessly.

You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.

He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."

You nod, "I know."

"Go to him," he says softly.

"I-"

"Go to him!" he snaps.

You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.

Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.

"If it is your command, I shall obey."

He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."

You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."

Daemon does not move.

"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."

It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.

You stare.

"You do not want to go to him?"

Your lips part.

He raises his brows.

"I... I do."

Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.

The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.

"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.

Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.

The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.

Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"

Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.

"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.

He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.

"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."

He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."

"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.

Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.

Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"

His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."

"I'm fine."

"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.

You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."

You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"

"No."

You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,

"This is glass."

"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"

Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."

You pull your head back, "on accident?"

"On purpose," he tilts his head.

You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"

He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."

You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.

It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."

"..."

"You were not there."

You do not tear your gaze from his injury.

He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"

You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"

Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.

You continue wrapping up his hand.

"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.

"Why?"

His brows furrow.

"Why was I being a bitch?"

"..."

You spare him a quick glace.

He pulls his head back, "... what?"

"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"

His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?

You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.

Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?

You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."

Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.

"How do you feel?"

He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.

"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."

He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.

You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."

His eyes meet yours.

"I am here to care and comfort you."

He leans back, taken by the thought.

You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."

His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."

You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.

"I don't-"

"Daemon."

He stills.

You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.

He feels himself getting hard.

"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.

Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.

You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"

"I..." he starts.

You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.

"...wanted you to come to my tent."

You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."

"I want you."

You nod, "I will tend to you—"

Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.

He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.

Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.

You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."

He hums, nipping your flesh in response.

You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"

He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.

"Please, Daemon, wait-"

"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"

Your breath hitches as he sinks down.

"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"

"I- that's not-"

"Do you or do you not?"

"I... I do—"

You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.

He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.

You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.

Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.

Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.

You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.

Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.

"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.

You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.

He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.

Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.

At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.

His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.

"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.

He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.

You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.

"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."

You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."

Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."

He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.

"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."

You begin to grit your teeth.

"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.

It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.

He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.

You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.

You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.

Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"

You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."

Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.

The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."

You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."

Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"

You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"

He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"

You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"

Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."

You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"

His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.

"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."

His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"

"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."

When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.

Your heart races as he takes your hand.

"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."

You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."

He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.

"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."

He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.

He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.

"Daemon."

He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.

You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"

"I will stay."

You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."

He frowns, wiping your tears.

When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.

"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.

He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."