#Fire exciting foreign song

[daymusic40]

أغاني أجنبية 💞 في ظلام الليل 🎧 موسيقى حماسية ▏ exciting music

[queenbeyondthewall]

Alright so next on the Hozier self-titled/Lannister sibs agenda is the one and only Tyrion Lannister and his theme song Foreigner’s God. I simply cannot listen to this song anymore without thinking of him. It might be one of the most tragic songs on the album which is a perfect fit for one of the best tragic anti-heroic characters I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Let’s go.

She moved with shameless wonder The perfect creature, rarely seen Since some liar brought the thunder And the land was godless and free

This verse, to me, really represents the purity and innocence of Tyrion and Tysha's youthful love affair before Tywin (the liar who brought the thunder) pulled it to shreds. The word shameless is particularly apt in reference to Tyrion: 

“Tyrion hated weakness, especially his own. It shamed him, and shame made him angry.” - ASOS Tyrion I

“And make no mistake—this was the last time I will suffer you to bring shame onto House Lannister. You are done with whores.” – Tywin Lannister, ASOS Tyrion I

Nothing cuts him quite so deep as shame, especially from his father, and especially in reference to his dwarfism and his relationships with so-called “whores.” Speaking of,

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me But still my heart is heavy With the hate of some other man’s beliefs

I interpret this verse in reference to Tyrion’s relationship with Shae, a defining feature of our understanding of his character. She's a bright, lively young woman, and they are almost sweet with each other, he seems to genuinely trust and care for her. Their relationship, however, is stained by the intense hatred Tyrion has for himself and the world around him, due in no small part to the Tysha incident and Tywin’s continued dismissal and disrespect of him. Tyrion compares the two girls to each other constantly, as though desperately seeking the kind of carefree love he once felt free to have, and not finding it.

Always a well-dressed fraud Who wouldn’t spare the rod

Back and back again to Tywin and the impenetrable shadow he casts over Tyrion’s life. I love thinking of Tywin as a well-dressed fraud - there’s a hint there of the Lannister ostentation and hunger for power. Spare the rod in biblical reference to corporal punishment and to Tywin’s neverending efforts to dampen the spirit of his younger son. 

She feels no control over her body She feels no safety in my arms I’ve no language left to say it But all I do is quake to her Breaking if I try and convey it The broken love I make to her

The darkest part of Tyrion’s story, without question, is the drunken, cruel, destructive spiral of self-loathing and self-pity he is set on by a culmination of his traumas and betrayals. I’m sure many readers felt the same horror as I did watching Tyrion take out his inner torment upon the poor “sunset girl” in the brothel. I find Tyrion’s relationships with women to be very important in underlining the tragedy of his character - someone who has been on the receiving end of some of Westeros’ cruelest societal and personal biases, someone with true innate empathy, and yet who falls just short of extending his understanding of these hardships to other disadvantaged people around him (namely women, especially prostitutes). Tyrion’s relationship with sex has been warped ever since the rape-by-proxy he suffered at the hands of his father. The outcome? More pain to innocents, which this verse communicates in striking clarity.

Screaming the name of a foreigner’s god The purest expression of grief

This song has a simple but impactful refrain. I saw a post recently speaking of Tyrion as a victim - angry, hateful, imperfect. Sometimes I think the wit that so endears Tyrion to us as a POV distracts from the very real grief and trauma that is a driving force for his character. Tyrion, to me, is the character with the most ambiguous path forward through winds and dream, and I can’t wait to see how he continues to grow from rock bottom. Part of that, I think, will be an altogether different sort of relationship with Penny and Daenerys, two new young women in his life.

[monamipencil]

when strawberries bloom (teaser)

“When the strawberries bloom, I'll be by your side.”

premise. mingyu is content with his life in the capitol as a victor, although he's haunted by the images of the nightmare he lived ten years ago. but all that comes to an abrupt stop, when he discovers that you—his greatest demise had been alive all this time.

content. hunger games! au, victor! mingyu, f! reader, pseudo major character death, hints of trauma, mingyu is a blink away from alcohol poisoning, capitol shenanigans, this is set in the period of second rebellion, slow burn, jealousy, both of them are in denial, fight scenes, friends to lovers (?) to strangers to rivals (it's one sided??) to ???, angst, fluff, crack, smut. heavy fruit metaphor, yearning, pining, happy ending.

warnings. will be added in the fic post.

word count. tba.

release date. around december end.

author’s note. this is a part of the ‘catching fire’ collab hosted by @vitaminkyeom. i'm very excited to write this and share with you guys. though i'm barely done with fic, i thought i'd put out as a teaser to fuel me to finish it. and pls feel free to come to my inbox and scream abt this fic <33 send an ask to be added to the taglist !

Mingyu controls a deep sigh as yet another woman presses herself against him in the name of dancing. He fakes his gaze, pretending to be enamoured. The strong perfume she’d used makes his head throb, and irritate his nostrils. 

The woman whispers sultrily, “I can’t believe I got you all to myself tonight.”

She flutters her eyelashes at him, her hands playing with the tie of his masquerade mask. It only covers the lower half of his face—a skillfully sculpted skull mask, lined with golden chains. He avoids looking at her, eyes darting all over the room to find something to fixate on. 

His lack of attention doesn’t seem to faze the woman as she only steps in closer. He bites his tongue and focuses on the details of the mansion. Gold painting lines the ivory walls that are basked in the dim lights of the party now. Grand, maroon curtains hangs by the arched windows, slightly swaying as the wind flows in. 

Awe turns into confusion which is replaced by disappointment when his eyes land on a glowing liquor fountain. But if he’s really honest, he’s a bit intrigued and his tongue feels dry, aching for the bitter taste of alcohol on it. 

Another shift of his eyes lands on a familiar lady, adorned in a black gown and dancing with an old man. He recognizes you as the lady from the balcony though your face is now obscured with a masquerade mask. Relief floods through his system, if he had to catch another glance at your face, his heart would stop beating once and for all. 

But as Mingyu had discovered long ago, things never really go the way he wishes them to. You turn your head, catching his gaze. Heat floods his cheeks and all the oxygen trickles out his lungs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you maintain eye contact. He doesn’t realise that he had stopped dancing till the woman whines. The sound prickles his skin, sending a shot of annoyance through him. 

All the voices around Mingyu drown out, turning into a mere buzz. A vine wraps around his heart, its thorns puncturing the gentle muscle. He watches as you shift your attention. Your beautiful lips curving into a smile, reacting to whatever the man had said. Your body leaning towards the old gamemaker, drawing attention to your cleavage. Rage courses through his veins along with another feeling. Jealousy. 

The feeling is foreign to him and he can’t even deduce why he’s jealous. Or, he knows why he’s jealous but even that mere idea seems incredulous. Still envy coils in his gut, rattling its tail at him and mocking him. Your eyes land on him again, and his heart skips a beat. 

Just then, the song switches, carrying a seductive note. Soon, the woman is whisked away and not even a second later, you end up in his arms. His hands skate down your silk gown to the small of your back and he pulls you flush against him. The proximity makes your breath hitch and you place your arm on his shoulders, swaying to the notes. Your breaths mingle together, body heat diffusing into one.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe you look too much like her, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. With a sudden craving of intimacy, he holds you tight against him and the other intertwines with your left hand as you both sway to the flowing music. 

Any rational thought is chucked out his mind. The more he looks into your eyes, the more you look like her. In contrast to his prior wish, he wants your mask gone now. It obscures most of your face, cutting off near your right cheekbone to expose your right eye. 

He brushes stray hair aside. His soft, manicured nail beds caress the exposed skin off your face. You tighten your hold on him, doe eyes staring up at him with something he can’t pinpoint. His heartbeat quickens, a strange nostalgia permeates the air. Mingyu swears that this has happened before, a sense of deja vu fills his veins. 

Before he could comprehend his own actions, he undoes your mask. The sultry note tunes out into nothingness and the world seems to have stopped spinning. The mask hits the ground with a clank that gets muffled in the shock of the revelation. 

And there stands Kim Mingyu with his long lost lover and best friend who’s supposedly dead. 

You mirror his expression, horror staining your face as you shuffle to retrieve your mask. All while he stands still, going over the millions of possibilities. Why and how are you alive? Or is this a sick joke that someone is trying to play on him? 

You try to slip away from him, but he catches your hand, stopping you in your tracks. His grip tightens when you try to pull your hand away. His fingers brush over a bump on your skin, drawing attention to it. His eyes land on a scar that runs from the palm of your left hand to your wrist. 

Just then, you free yourself from his grip and escape into the bustling crowd of the party, leaving him alone. Though the mansion is filled with hundreds of citizens, an impermeable bubble seems to surround him—as if no one had witnessed what had occurred. It makes Mingyu question whether you’re real or if he made you up, like a mad man. 

send an ask to be added to the taglist !

[whumped-by-glitter]

I want to talk about conditioning for a minute, from someone who has undergone it.

It has been 15 yrs as of March 30th since I left for basic training (probably why it's been on my mind A LOT lately, so sorry guys). In those 15 years, I've undone most of the programming, but you know what, there are some things that just will not go away.

For example, reveille, if you want to see me go from fast asleep to moving like something is on fire and have me dressed and out the door before the song ends, wake me up with that, even hearing it during the day gives me a minor adrenaline rush. I have not heard that tune in like 2 years, and I'm pretty sure I will still react the same way. I have been completely Pavlove's dog to it, and it only took 8.5 weeks.

Next is my hands in my pocket - it feels rebellious and taboo when I do it, even now I still feel a slight jolt of excitement when I do it. I actually put my hands in my pocket a lot now because it feels weird, and I like that 🤣

Even how I walk has changed, I still have no bounce in my step, I still roll my feet to walk quieter, I still find myself falling in step with people I'm walking next to. I have done my best to undo this one, but it still shows up every now and then. I will also still walk to a beat if music playing is anything similar to a Jodie.

It has been 15 years with active work done to undo this, and it still shows up! I was in for a total of just 5.5 years.

It also took me years (3-4) to stop standing at parade rest and over using sir/ma'am. That only got better from being constantly called out on it.

My point? A conditioned whumpee will likely have behaviors just show up even years later. there will also likely be completely normal things they will likely have to actively think about doing or not doing, and it may always feel weird or foreign to them (like me putting my hands in my pocket). This won't be something that goes away in weeks or months. They are going to have these internal reactions to certain stimuli, likely the rest of their life. Also, these responses can be exhausting for a caretaker! That's a lot of emotional burden on them, depending on what the whumpee was conditioned to.

Hopefully, this helps someone somewhere somehow with some inspiration! 😊 feel free to pick my brain further if you want.

Thank you for letting me talk a bit about my experiences, it's refreshing. I promise after March I'll be less military again. 🤣

[silantryoo]

nakamura kazuha x le sserafim!reader (fluff)

WARNINGS ; scheming, possessiveness (non-toxic)

kazuha lived a hectic life, almost as hectic as her mind.

at age three, she decided to throw herself into a raging fire.

she had listened to one of her close friends (as close as children could get at that age, at least) rave about how fun their after-school activities were. how she felt like the spotlight was on her, and only her.

kazuha would never admit it, but she craved attention. she yearned to be seen and be recognized, to be watched and to amaze. her after-school activities (read: watching cartoons and drawing stick figures for her parents to interpret) left her with a restlessness, one that relayed onto her parents.

("kazuha! stop cutting holes into your blankets!")

nearly all her childhood memories consisted of school and ballet. it was a monotonous rinse and repeat. each day, she woke up with the dull sensation of aching and routine.

it was fun. it was exciting.

kazuha knew she was good. there was no doubt about it. she would get comments from other parents, praising her, and her mom and dad constantly walked around with their chins held high, knowing how well they're daughter performed.

she was a performer. an amazing one at that.

it didn't go unrecognized. as soon as she reached high school, she earned herself a hefty scholarship, attending one of the most rigorous ballet academies in the world.

kazuha had everything a ballerina could ever want to achieve, but somehow, a sudden emptiness started to consume her.

ballet was fun. kazuha knew what to do to get the spotlight. she knew how to catch the attention of the audience. it was a test, a rigorous evaluation of everything she knew in each class, in each recital.

it was a test, one which she had studied.

but nakamura kazuha wanted to perform.

she would've lied if she said she joined hybe purely out of ambition.

kazuha knew about kpop. she wasn't born in the last century. she, although not as diehard as her roommate, liked blackpink and bts. she knew their discography well enough to attend concerts, and her roommate usually blasted some random song from an idol group while washing the dishes.

(she refused to mention her secret twitter page that somehow shifted into a blackpink fan account.)

when she had gotten the email from hybe, kazuha was more than hesitant. she heard horror stories about the training, how foreigners were forced to speak a language they knew none of. kazuha was already accustomed to how rigorous ballet was, but she knew that the language barrier would be the final straw to making her break.

still, she couldn't do this forever. she couldn't die doing ballet, of feeling the dull ache of something missing.

"i don't know." kazuha sighed, gritting her teeth as she thought about that email again.

Dear Nakamura Kazuha...

("how did they find out my email address and my full name?!")

her roommate sighed. "i think you should."

"and leave everything behind?" kazuha shivered at the thought. change was fun as it was scary. "what if my parents say no?.

mina shook her head. "as if they would. they know how your brain works."

kazuha couldn't disagree with her. her parents were her number one supporters. if she decided to be a cashier at the nearest 7eleven, they would support her.

"besides," mina smirked. kazuha always became worried when her friend was smug. "i heard some of the izone members-"

l/n y/n.

"izone?"

kazuha hadn't known much about izone in all honesty.

all she knew was that miyawaki sakura, honda hitomi, and yabuki nako were in the group. she had heard their songs, and although she had always wanted to get into them, she never had the time.

but then there was you.

your minju-unnie said that it was okay that your family group disbanded. she said that it was an opportunity for growth and change, and despite her face full of tears, you tried your best to believe her.

packing your bags was the hardest thing you had to do. your roommates, wonyoung and yujin, were quiet and solemn. it was unlike the three of you. your unnies always heard shouting from your room, whether it was you and yujin arguing over the air conditioning, or wonyoung begging you to go shopping with her.

you were their maknaes.

now, you were no one's.

being a group of thirteen, someone was always left out, no matter how hard eunbi or sakura tried. sometimes, it was one of the two. other times, it was willingly hyewon, trying to avoid working.

sometimes, it was you.

everyone grouped up. yujin and wonyoung were going back to their company, starship. hitomi, sakura, and nako were getting ready to fly back to japan. yena and yuri talked to a bumbling and restless chaewon, crying into their arms. chaeyeon and hyewon were in the corner, worriedly watching eunbi as she scanned everyone's faces.

"y/n-ah."

you turned around, wiping the tears off your face.

"minju-unnie." you couldn't help but smile at the older girl.

minju was your rock.

she was a year older, and almost, if not more, confused than you about the whole idol thing. she was shy and insecure, always double-checking if things were done right.

but she was always there. minju always cared, even when she didn't have time to care.

she was the older sister you had always wanted (regardless of whatever chaewon and yena said during interviews and lives).

"give me a hug."

"okay."

you smiled, holding her tight. you could feel her tears dripping onto your shoulder, and her hand gripping your shirt.

minju was afraid, just like you were.

"i'm still your unnie after this, okay?" you didn't know if minju was trying to convince you or herself, but it didn't matter. "talk to me about anything."

you pulled back.

why did this feel like a goodbye? why did it feel like everyone knew this was a goodbye.

you didn't want them to leave. you didn't want them to forget you.

"unnie-"

"i'll be okay." minju could always read your mind somehow. "everything will be okay."

"okay." it'll be okay. everything will be okay. you'll still have your family members. "i trust you, unnie."

a week later, you, chaewon, minju, and sakura received an email.

everything will be okay.

being okay came in the form of nakamura kazuha.

you had seen her on that video call, talking in broken sentences with a cute accent. she read the paper in front of her, and you could visibly remember the light reflecting the hiragana pronunciation from the back.

a month later, she flew in.

nakamura kazuha was pretty.

a soft knock echoed through your room, the vinyl drowning it out after a few moments. the clock on your table read one am.

it could've been anyone of your group members at this point. maybe it was yunjin, dragging you out to go eat with one of her friends (despite it being past midnight). it could've been sakura, just wanting to sit next to you as she knitted. maybe it was eunchae too, claiming your room was colder despite her living in a different dorm complex. maybe it was chaewon...

you shook your head. chaewon wouldn't leave her room.

the door creaked open, puppy eyes staring back at you.

"hi."

kazuha.

you smiled. part of you was glad that minju never took the offer from hybe, otherwise she would pester you nonstop about your (extremely obvious) crush on the japanese ballerina.

you waved your hand, telling her to go inside. the younger girl beamed at you, a red tint dusting the apples of her cheeks.

"i got something!"

you raised an eyebrow, sitting up as you tried to peak at what she was holding.

"what is it?"

kazuha blinked, trying to calm herself down from bursting at the thought of spending time with you.

it didn't matter to her that you two had been friends for more than a year. being near you was enough to make her heart double in size.

"i, uh, i bought a lego set." she couldn't show that her confidence was wavering. "yunjin-unnie doesn't wanna do it with me."

you frowned.

you loved yunjin as much as the next person did, but you hated it when kazuha talked about her. the ballerina seemed to worship the ground that yunjin walked on.

the worst part was the fact you couldn't blame her. back in izone, there was a moment in time when you had done the same with one of your former members.

minju still teased you about your former crush.

the room went quiet, and kazuha could tell that you were caught in your head again. she always wondered if you thought about her when you were lost in your thoughts. maybe if she knew, she would find the courage to tell you her true feelings.

kazuha fiddled with the box, her voice suddenly a whisper.

"do you," kazuha blushed harder. "do you wanna do it with me?"

although you knew that kazuha most likely went to you after yunjin had said no, you couldn't help but agree. it didn't matter to you that you always seemed to be kazuha's second thought. all that mattered was that she thought of you.

you nodded, and the younger girl couldn't help but smile brightly.

("it'll be a good excuse for you to confess! maybe you'll even kiss her."

"unnie!")

you moved aside, letting kazuha sit across from you. she couldn't help but blush at the feeling of your covers. your room always seemed softer and brighter than hers, just like how you seemed prettier than everyone else.

kazuha sighed. maybe yunjin was right. maybe kazuha had fallen a bit too much in like and ended up in love.

she didn't mind though, not when you felt so familiar to the spotlight.

"these flowers are pretty." you looked closely at the orchids, humming as you traced the box with your finger.

mina had always mentioned how she was a sucker for pretty girls. she vividly remembers the two of them in their second-grade science class, kazuha tensing up whenever her teacher came near, or the time that one of her closest friends back in the academy complimented her physique, and she stiffened up so hard that she strained her neck.

when she first saw you during that video call, she was more calm than she expected. kazuha knew that she was gonna meet her celebrity crush, and the thought of you knowing she existed nearly made her brain short-circuit but she prepared. kazuha wasn't weak-willed.

and then she met you in real life.

somehow, she had forgotten how to speak at all.

("kazuha, right?"

"mmh!")

even after two years, she still struggled to form thoughts around you. it wasn't her fault that you were pretty.

kazuha cleared her throat, her face heating up as she realized how long she had stayed silent.

the two of you got to work quickly, the lull of the record playing. pieces of lego scattered your bedsheet, the two of you (mostly just you) struggling to figure out which piece went where.

"so..." you fiddled with a piece, one that you assumed to be the leaf. "you got these for yunjin-unnie?"

kazuha snapped out of her daze, too focused on completing the set in front of her. she always got too into these things.

"huh?"

"the flowers." you smiled, holding back an 'aw'. kazuha was too adorable for her own good. "you said yunjin-unnie didn't want to build them with you."

kazuha couldn't help but avoid your gaze.

she knew that you weren't exactly the best when it came to anything that required hand-eye coordination and focus. she also knew that she desperately wanted to spend time with you. you had been too busy meeting up with your former members and she had been missing you a bit too much.

she had seen the set while window-shopping.

they looked easy enough, one that wouldn't confuse you as much as the other ones, but hard enough to make sure it took more than one sitting.

it was a perfect excuse.

"oh, um," kazuha didn't know why it suddenly got so hot in your room. "no, i got them just because."

you glanced at her, watching as she toyed with the piece in her hand. you had no reason to doubt the younger girl, but you had to admit it was odd.

you couldn't complain, however. kazuha was here, and that's all you wanted.

the two of you continued, you looking over every so often. the scattered pieces seemed to never end, and despite the younger girl's dexterity, your lack of seemed to prolong the process more than it should've (just like she had hoped).

"this has a lot of parts." you muttered, feeling bad. "i think you picked the wrong person for this, zuha."

kazuha, like always, smiled at you as if she was smiling for the audience.

"i don't mind it taking long."

it was breathtaking.

"if you say so..."

you yawned, rubbing your eyes as you curled up against the futon.

you loved comebacks more than an idol should. it was fun to roam around, exploring the building of whatever showcase it was. being the only extrovert in le sserafim, you also made it your duty to help the others (and yourself) connect with whoever you seemed to cross paths with.

most days, you would already be outside, introducing sakura to whoever walked by.

not today. not when you were running on three hours of sleep.

"y/n-ah," sakura's voice echoed in your brain. "did you see my iron anywhere?"

"chaewon-unnie had it last." you yawned out.

sakura glared at her leader, watching as chaewon dug through her comically large bag. she needed to use it after the show. chaewon couldn't look like a mess in front of min anyone.

the leader stared you down, your peaceful body irritating her.

"snitch."

your mouth dropped open.

a couple years ago, back in izone, chaewon wouldn't dare insult you (although snitch was barely an insult). it didn't matter whether you barged into her room unannounced and left the door open, insulting you was off-limits.

as one of your unnie's once said, insulting you is equivalent to scolding a kitten who didn't know any better.

"i'm telling eunbi-unnie!" you whined, pouting.

chaewon laughed, pinching your cheek as if your threat meant nothing to her. you were basically her little sister after all. the worst thing that your 'mom' would do was scold her.

"like you told her about your crush on zuha?" chaewon snorted as she saw how red your cheeks had suddenly gotten. "how she's so pretty when she dances and how you wanna kiss her?"

you slapped her arm away, embarrassed. you should've known that eunbi had told chaewon (and probably the rest of the other girls) about your infatuation with the ballerina in your current group.

maybe that's why wonyoung gave you a thumbs up when she saw you and kazuha gathering drinks for the rest of your members.

"kkura-unnie!" you turned to the eldest, her figure hidden under a purple blanket. "chaewon-unnie being annoying again!"

you stared at the blob, waiting for it to utter a word. something that hopefully defended you from your child-like leader. sakura tended to take your side, anyway, except when-

you squinted, watching as the blanket shook up and down.

was she...

"stop laughing!" you groaned, throwing your head back.

you thought that somehow, especially since hong eunchae was in your group, chaewon and sakura would stop treating you like a maknae.

it seemed to be worse now, the two throwing jabs at your unrequited crush when the three of you were left alone.

"when are you gonna ask her out, y/n-ah?" sakura sat up, her voice drowning out the door opening. "you can't pine forever."

eunchae looked around, her eyes beaming with curiosity.

"ask who out?"

chaewon screamed as the youngest's voice echoed from behind, her eyes wide open as she jumped onto the couch. somehow, sakura followed with her, the sheer volume of the leader's voice frightening her.

"jesus, eunchae..." chaewon clutched her heart. "you scared me."

beside her, sakura's head hung low as she tried to catch her breath.

eunchae chose to ignore the two, glancing at you with shining wonder.

"who are you gonna ask out, unnie?"

she already knew who you were talking about. eunchae wasn't dumb. she saw the quiet glances and the bright smiles you and kazuha sent to each other. she knew that sakura saw it too.

but somehow, neither you nor your ballerina did.

you bit your tongue, debating whether or not to tell the younger girl in front of you.

you trusted eunchae. the young girl knew how to keep a secret unlike some people (yunjin and chaewon), but you also knew she had a tendency to meddle when the chance was given to her. it was why your junior, minji, and chaewon were so adamant about keeping her and her friend, haerin, away from each other.

you hummed, blurting out the second name that you could think of.

"minju-unnie."

"minju-sunbaenim?" eunchae shook her head. she didn't know you were this bad at lying. "as if chaewon-unnie would let that happen."

all eyes shifted to chaewon as her ears burned a firey red.

"yah!"

eunchae rolled her eyes, pouting as she ignored her leader's half-hearted scolding.

"so?" the youngest continued to press. "who is it?"

you shrugged, not knowing that the two of you were thinking about the same girl. "no one."

"but-"

the door opened, kazuha and yunjin entering the cramped room with a boxful of cheesecake.

chaewon frowned. she had told them to get real food. not dessert.

"what is that?" chaewon glared at the white reflecting the lights.

yunjin looked down, half confused and half serious. "it's a container...?"

with a deep breath, chaewon closed her eyes. she always wondered how eunbi managed to keep some sanity when choi yena, kang hyewon, and ahn yujin were all under her care.

part of her knew that if yunjin was added to that mix, eunbi would combust.

"but i ordered rice...?"

chaewon looked at the proud smile on her member's face. "it's made with flour, so it's close enough."

huh yunjin was gonna give her an aneurysm.

"have you told her yet?"

being ambushed while drying her hair wasn't exactly how kazuha wanted to spend her night.

in all honesty, she had mentally prepared herself to confess to you later today. from the moment her six alarms rang, she knew that she'd do it.

she didn't take into account how many people would stop by and say hi to you.

kazuha frowned. why did you know so many pretty people?

"no..."

yunjin frowned, pointing at her with the fork in her hand. "you said you'd do it today?"

kazuha loved the thrill of the spotlight. she loved showing the world that, not only was she talented, she was confident. she held herself with a poise that she knew many people could never compare to.

kazuha never crumbled under the presence of the spotlight.

why was it so different with you?

"told who what yet?"

kazuha spun around, her eyes wide. it had slipped her mind eunchae usually drank a caprisun around this time. something about her nightly routine...

(kazuha tried to pay attention, but eunchae talked fast, faster than she could translate in her head.)

"what?" yunjin laughed awkwardly, her mouth scrunching up. "told who what?"

leave it to yunjin to make things obvious.

"you're such a bad liar, unnie." eunchae rolled her eyes. "so, who is it zuha-unnie?"

kazuha swallowed air, her fingers nervously tapping on her side. if eunchae found out, there was no doubt that she'd tell you before kazuha herself could.

"no one."

the youngest sighed. everyone seemed to think she was five years old or something. they might as well have told her santa was real.

eunchae shook her head, plastering an unbothered smile on her face.

the maknae had decided a while ago to not get in between you and kazuha. she liked how the two of you acted like two stupid shoujo characters, dancing around their feelings. yes, it frustrated her, but at the very least, she found daily entertainment.

everyone had forced her hand.

"oh..." eunchae nodded. "you're just like y/n-unnie."

kazuha's head perked up almost instantly, like a dog when they smelt a treat nearby.

"what?" eunchae knew something about you? was it something she didn't know? "what about her?"

the youngest bit back a smirk.

"i heard that she was gonna ask someone out."

someone...

kazuha frowned.

someone?

did she know them? were they close to you? was it one of your former members? was that why you had been so busy visiting them instead of paying attention to her?

"who?" kazuha's mind couldn't stop racing as she named all the people you had visited in the past month.

eunchae chuckled, squeezing past her and grabbing a drink from the fridge. "i'm not telling!"

"what?" gears turned in kazuha's head, her frown deepening. "who?"

eunchae smiled. if she was right and kazuha thought like any lead in any of her favorite tv shows, planning a seed of anxiety would be enough for her to finally do something.

"she's probably teasing, zuha." yunjin's voice was laced with nervousness, never before seeing kazuha in such a state of panic.

"maybe..." the youngest sighed.

wow... she was a genius.

"so," the youngest stabbed her juice open, sipping as she acted innocently. "do you guys think minju-sunbaenim is pretty?"

the kitchen went silent.

"...what?"

yunjin's eyes widened. she never knew kazuha's voice could be so intimidating.

"minju-sunbaenim?"

minju? kim minju?

how was she supposed to compete against kim minju?

kazuha liked spending time with you.

she liked how easily she made you laugh, how your eyes seemed to brighten at every word she uttered. she took note of how your cheeks tinged red, and how you'd stare at her as if she was the focus of your attention.

your spotlight was on her.

she'd never tell you, but there was a reason why she had gotten so close to yunjin out of nowhere.

it was obvious how you liked jokes, stupid or not. you laughed at whatever was said, even if imaginary tomatoes were being hurled towards the other person.

huh yunjin always managed to make you laugh, and kazuha knew from the first day she met you that she wanted that as well. she wanted your eyes on her and only her.

("take it."

"a joke book, yunjin-unnie? i don't think..."

"it'll work. trust me.")

now, the spotlight was somewhere else. somewhere familiar... somewhere you were used to.

it was driving her insane.

kazuha looked up, watching as you struggled with the legos in your hand.

"do you like minju-sunbaenim?"

you paused, confusion suddenly appearing in your eyes.

"minju-unnie?"

kazuha, too filled with anxiousness and determination, thought nothing of it.

"do you like her?"

you blinked. kazuha had never been this blunt, nor this flat with you.

your searched your brain for an explanation, but none came to. "where'd this come from?"

kazuha frowned. that wasn't a no.

"eunchae said you did."

you laughed quietly, shaking your head as the girl in front of you sulked. gently, you put the last piece together, staring at the orchid head in your hand.

"don't listen to eunchae." you smiled, her eyes hardening as she took in your words. "she just heard i liked someone and-"

someone?

there was someone, just not kim minju.

kazuha nodded internally. she could compete with someone. in fact, she was sure she would win. as long as it wasn't another person like minju (god forbid it was hyewon), she'd be fine.

hell, she'd fight lee chaeyeon for you.

"who?"

"who?" you blushed under the dim light of your lamp, the thought of confessing to kazuha outright flustering you. "someone..."

the ballerina clenched her jaw. she didn't understand why you wouldn't tell her.

she was greedy. she had always been. kazuha needed to learn to share the spotlight, but she had always struggled with it. she needed to learn to accept that not everything came to her the way she wanted it to, no matter how hard she tried.

"i think we did it!" you smiled, clicking the last piece of the set together. "i'm so glad that's over with-"

she wasn't gonna share you.

kazuha crawled over, not caring that her knee had crushed the bottom of the pot that the two of you worked so hard on.

"kazuha!"

your eyes widened in horror as it shattered under her weight. it took you two hours of work, and so much patience that you felt like you had transcended time at certain points.

kazuha didn't care.

she craved the spotlight. she craved you.

her hand rested on the side of your neck, pulling you into a kiss she had so desperately dreamt of each night.

you barely registered what was going on, your brain hopping from grieve to confusion to flustered in less than a second. her mouth was on yours. kazuha was kissing you.

humming, your eyes screwed shut as you focused all your attention on her. you could taste the faint layer of chapstick on her lips, the one that you had always wondered what tasted like.

sweet. you smiled. like her perfume.

you pulled back awkwardly, watching as she semi-hovered over you, and struggled to maintain her position.

"focus on me instead." she ignored the sharp pieces digging themselves into her knee. "like me instead, unnie."

you looked into her dark irises, her breathing heavy as they searched yours. you couldn't believe how out of nowhere kazuha had been. you had known her long enough to know how she kept her thoughts to herself, rarely speaking out unless something had happened.

you paused.

oh.

"eunchae, you sneaky little..." you shook your head, deciding to scold the youngest another time. now, your focus was kazuha.

her eyes never wavered away from yours, almost as if she was silently pleading for confirmation.

with a smile, you chuckled. "you're the someone, kazuha."

kazuha's face went blank, shifting to her knees.

"huh?" her face heat up. she had never been more embarrassed in her life. "but eunchae said..."

you gave her a pointed look.

"exactly."

kazuha clenched her eyes as she sat back to the opposite of you. how did a fifteen-year-old manage to out-smart her.

i got played.

"so..." kazuha sat cross-legged, glancing sadly at the broken figure in front of her. "i broke our flowers for nothing?"

you couldn't help but let out a laugh, watching as the girl across from you reminisced about the state of the lego set a few minutes ago.

"it's okay." you hummed, picking up the pieces. "it just means more time together."

kazuha hummed happily, going back to work to fix the vase. the more time she spent with you, the better.

together...

that was another conversation for another day.

eunchae stared at the fake flowers on the living room table, smiling as her scheming had worked perfectly.

she was glad that you two were finally dating, even if that meant you and kazuha (poorly) snuck around the dorms.

it was also a plus that she got treats for not telling chaewon about anything (not like she was going to).

"do you know orchids mean love?" sakura said, glancing at her phone.

"love?" chaewon laughed. you were too young to know what love was. "y/nnie didn't even have her first kiss yet."

yunjin's eyes bulged out, not sure if she was hearing wrong. "she didn't tell you?"

"unnie."

"oops."

> main masterlist.

[amethystarachnid]

omg could I please request 17- Holiday Baking Fiasco with Tony x Fem!Reader? We all know of Tony’s poor cooking skills (as exhibited by his burnt omelette 😭) so I think his determination to bake some Christmas cookies will lead to chaos and hilarity

CHRISTMAS COOKIES

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 3.6k

ᯓ★ Summary: Tony and Y/n have been in a happy relationship for five years now and live together in Tony's penthouse, so y/n knows that Tony can't cook at all and is shocked when he tells her that he wants to bake some Christmas cookies, he insists on doing it alone but since she doesn't want him to burn down the house she gets him to at least let her supervise.

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The warm glow of the morning sun spills through the sheer curtains, bathing Tony’s penthouse in a soft golden hue. The city below is alive with holiday cheer, but up here, it feels like the two of you are the only people in the world. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the open space as you pad into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

You find Tony already up, standing by the counter with a blueprint spread out in front of him. His hair is a delightful mess, sticking up in every direction like he’s been up for hours. Typical Tony. He’s dressed in red plaid pajama pants and a threadbare Black Sabbath tee that you’ve threatened to steal more times than you can count.

“Morning, genius,” you mumble, sliding your arms around his waist from behind. He leans back into your embrace, his body warm and familiar against yours.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he replies, his voice still husky from sleep. He turns his head to press a kiss to your temple before straightening up. There’s a glint in his eyes that you recognize—a dangerous mix of excitement and mischief.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you ask, suspicious.

“Funny you should ask,” he says, turning around to face you fully. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good sign,” you tease, earning a smirk from him.

“Very funny. No, but seriously, I was thinking we should do something festive today. You know, Christmas stuff.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Tony Stark, Mr. Too-Cool-for-Traditions, wants to do something festive? “Okay,” you say slowly. “Like what? Watch a Christmas movie? Decorate the tree?”

He shakes his head, the smirk widening into a full-blown grin. “Cookies.”

“Cookies?” you repeat, the word sounding foreign coming from his mouth.

“Yeah. You know, sugar, flour, chocolate chips... cookies. I think it’s time I flexed my culinary muscles.”

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come, you burst out laughing. “Tony, you don’t have culinary muscles. You have exactly one recipe in your repertoire: ramen noodles in a coffee mug.”

“Not true!” he protests, crossing his arms. “I made that omelet that one time.”

“You mean the one that set off the smoke alarm?”

“That was a fluke,” he says, waving you off. “Anyway, I’m serious about this. I want to bake Christmas cookies, and I want to do it myself.”

The idea of Tony Stark baking anything, let alone something as delicate as cookies, is both hilarious and terrifying. You can already picture the chaos: flour everywhere, batter stuck to the ceiling, and possibly a small fire.

“Tony,” you start gently, “I love you, but you have a... unique relationship with the kitchen. Maybe we should do this together?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the “p” for emphasis. “This is my thing. I’m doing this solo.”

You cross your arms, fixing him with a stern look. “You’re not burning down my kitchen on Christmas Day.”

“Our kitchen,” he corrects, grinning like he’s already won.

“Fine, our kitchen. Point is, I’m not letting you turn it into ground zero for a sugar explosion. I’ll supervise.”

He groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “Y/N, come on. Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“It’s alive and well, which is why I’m trying to save Christmas by keeping you from setting the penthouse on fire.”

He narrows his eyes at you, but there’s no malice there. “Fine,” he relents, throwing his hands up in surrender. “You can supervise. But no interfering unless I specifically ask for help. Deal?”

“Deal,” you say, though you both know you’ll probably break that rule within five minutes.

Tony heads to the pantry, pulling out ingredients with more enthusiasm than precision. “Alright, let’s do this. Where’s the cookbook?”

You snort. “Cookbook? You?”

“Okay, fine, I Googled a recipe last night,” he admits, pulling out his phone.

You settle onto one of the barstools, sipping your coffee as you watch him dive headfirst into the world of baking. He’s like a kid in a candy store, his usual cool demeanor replaced with genuine excitement.

“So, what kind of cookies are we making?” you ask.

“Chocolate chip, obviously,” he says, dumping a bag of flour onto the counter.

“Classic. Good choice.”

Tony starts measuring out ingredients, his tongue poking out in concentration. It’s adorable, really, watching him fumble his way through something so ordinary. You can’t help but smile as he mutters to himself, double-checking the recipe on his phone.

Things go smoothly at first—too smoothly. He measures the flour, sugar, and baking soda without incident, and for a moment, you think maybe this won’t be the disaster you were expecting.

But then he tries to crack an egg.

“Dammit!” he exclaims as half the shell ends up in the mixing bowl.

You bite back a laugh. “Need help?”

“No,” he says stubbornly, fishing out the shell fragments with a spoon. “I’ve got this.”

You watch as he moves on to the butter, which he apparently forgot to let soften. He stabs at it with a knife, muttering curses under his breath.

“Tony,” you say, trying to keep a straight face, “you’re supposed to let the butter soften before you mix it.”

“Didn’t know I was signing up for a science experiment,” he grumbles, tossing the cold butter into the bowl anyway.

Despite the hiccups, he manages to get all the ingredients into the bowl. Then comes the mixing.

“Okay, here we go,” he says, grabbing the electric mixer.

“Careful—” you start, but it’s too late.

The moment he turns it on, a cloud of flour erupts from the bowl, coating both him and the counter in a fine white dust.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. Then Tony looks up at you, his face covered in flour, and you lose it.

Your laughter echoes through the kitchen as Tony tries—and fails—to look indignant. “Glad you’re enjoying this,” he says dryly, though you can see the corners of his mouth twitching.

“I’m sorry,” you manage between giggles. “You just—”

“Look ridiculous?” he finishes for you.

“Pretty much.”

He grabs a handful of flour and flings it at you, catching you square in the chest.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” you say, grabbing your own handful of flour.

The next thing you know, the kitchen has turned into a full-blown flour fight.

The flour fight ends with both of you sitting on the kitchen floor, laughing so hard your sides ache. Tony looks completely disheveled, his hair white with powder, his grin boyish and infectious. You’re sure you don’t look much better.

“I think,” Tony says between chuckles, “this is the part where I’d make a robot clean everything. Except today is supposed to be authentic, right?” He gestures dramatically, like that word alone explains the chaos he’s caused.

“Oh, authentic, huh?” you reply, brushing flour off your face. “Well, in authentic kitchens, people clean up their messes before they burn their cookies.”

Tony groans, tilting his head back like he’s considering giving up entirely. “Fine. Let’s clean. But for the record, that flour cloud? Totally added character to the kitchen.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway, standing up and grabbing a towel. “Come on, Mr. Authentic. Let’s see how good you are with a sponge.”

Together, you set about tidying the mess. It’s... slow. Tony keeps getting distracted, like when he tries to use the flour-dusted mixing spoon as a microphone to belt out a horribly off-key rendition of “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” Or when he attempts to juggle the eggs and nearly drops all of them.

“Tony,” you warn, snatching the eggs from his hands, “focus. Or so help me, I’ll ban you from this kitchen for life.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s banned me from a lab,” he quips, but he grabs a dishcloth and starts wiping the counter.

It’s messy, chaotic, and far from efficient, but eventually, the kitchen is somewhat recognizable again. You tie the trash bag closed with a satisfied huff and glance at Tony, who’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed, a smudge of flour still on his cheek.

“Well,” you say, smirking, “I think that’s the closest you’ve ever come to doing housework.”

“I’d be offended if that wasn’t completely accurate,” he shoots back.

You laugh, but your amusement fades as you watch him glance at the bowl of half-mixed dough on the counter. His shoulders slump just slightly, his earlier bravado dimming.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, stepping closer.

He hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, I admit it. This whole baking thing... it’s harder than it looks.”

“Oh, really? I never would’ve guessed,” you tease lightly, nudging him with your elbow.

“Hey, cut me some slack. I’m a genius in most areas, but apparently, cookie dough is my kryptonite.” He sighs, turning to you with a sheepish smile. “I think I need a co-pilot. Someone to, you know, steer me away from the iceberg before I sink the whole ship.”

You arch an eyebrow. “So, you’re asking for my help?”

“I’m delegating,” he says quickly, holding up a finger. “There’s a difference. You’re not taking over; you’re just... preventing further disasters.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, crossing your arms. “And how many disasters are we talking here?”

“None. Zero. Zilch. I’ve got this,” he insists, but the look in his eyes is pleading.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Fine. But you still have to do most of the work. I’m just here to stop you from burning down the penthouse. Deal?”

“Deal.”

With your roles established, the two of you return to the mixing bowl. Tony picks up the electric mixer with exaggerated caution, holding it like it’s a live grenade.

“Okay,” you say, guiding him, “start slow. Just enough to combine the butter and sugar.”

He flips the switch, and for once, the mixer behaves. The butter and sugar begin to cream together, and Tony flashes you a triumphant grin.

“Look at that! I’m a natural,” he says smugly.

“Don’t get cocky,” you warn, though you can’t help but smile.

The next step is adding the eggs, and you’re extra vigilant this time. “Crack them into a separate bowl first,” you instruct, handing him a small bowl.

“Why? Afraid I’ll mess up again?” he asks, but he does as you say.

“Not afraid. Just prepared.”

The first egg cracks cleanly, and Tony gives you a mock bow. “See? No shell this time. I’m a changed man.”

“Congratulations. Now do it again.”

He rolls his eyes but complies, and soon the eggs are safely added to the dough. As the mixer whirs away, you glance at Tony, who’s watching the process with the same intensity he reserves for tinkering in his lab.

“You’re really taking this seriously, huh?” you say, leaning against the counter.

“Of course. It’s Christmas, and I wanted to do something special for you,” he says, his tone softer than usual.

Your heart warms at his words. “Tony...”

“Don’t get all mushy on me,” he interrupts, though his ears are turning red.

You laugh, but there’s a lump in your throat. Moments like these—where Tony lets his guard down and shows just how much he cares—are rare and precious.

“Alright, next step,” you say, clearing your throat to keep the emotion at bay. “Time for the dry ingredients.”

Tony grabs the bag of flour with newfound confidence, measuring it out carefully under your watchful eye.

“Not bad,” you say as he levels off the measuring cup.

“Not bad?” he repeats, feigning insult. “This is perfect. I deserve a medal for this level of precision.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Stark,” you reply, smirking.

Once the dry ingredients are added, it’s time to mix again. This time, the dough starts to come together, and Tony looks genuinely impressed with himself.

“Okay, I admit it,” he says, holding up a spoonful of dough. “This actually looks like cookie dough.”

“That’s because it is cookie dough,” you say with a laugh.

He tastes a bit, his eyes widening. “And it’s good! Damn, I might actually pull this off.”

“Don’t celebrate yet,” you warn, though you’re smiling.

The final step is adding the chocolate chips, and Tony insists on doing it by hand. He pours the chips into the bowl with dramatic flair, tossing in a few extra for good measure.

“Alright,” he says, clapping his hands together. “What’s next?”

“We chill the dough,” you reply, grabbing some plastic wrap.

“Chill it?”

“Yes, Tony. You can’t just bake it right away. The butter needs time to firm up, or the cookies will spread too much in the oven.”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Why didn’t anyone tell me baking was this complicated?”

“You’re the one who wanted to do this solo,” you remind him, wrapping the dough and placing it in the fridge.

Tony sighs dramatically, leaning against the counter like he’s just run a marathon. “Fine. We chill the dough. But I’m taking a break. This baking stuff is exhausting.”

You chuckle, pulling him toward the living room. “Come on, Mr. Authentic. Let’s take a breather before round two.”

Settling onto the couch, Tony flops down beside you, his head resting on your shoulder. His earlier frustration has faded, replaced with that easy grin you know so well.

“So,” he says, looking up at you, “how am I doing so far?”

“Honestly? Not bad. You’re no Julia Child, but you’re better than I expected.”

He laughs. “High praise coming from you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply, nudging him playfully.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching the snow fall outside the massive windows. The city below sparkles with holiday lights, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Tony breaks the silence, his voice soft. “Thanks for helping me. I know I’m a disaster in the kitchen, but... it means a lot.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re not a disaster. You’re just... a work in progress.”

“Gee, thanks,” he says, but there’s no bite in his words.

As the dough chills and the snow falls, you realize this might just be the best Christmas yet.

The dough chills long enough for Tony to grumble approximately twelve times. By the eighth complaint, you’re certain he’s just doing it to amuse himself. He’s sprawled across the couch like a man overcome by tragedy, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes.

“It’s been a year,” he moans.

You glance at your phone’s clock and laugh. “It’s been thirty-five minutes.”

“Exactly! Thirty-five minutes I’ll never get back. Do you know how many upgrades I could have made to the suit in that time? I could’ve redesigned an entire energy matrix!”

“Could you have made cookies?” you counter, smirking as you throw a pillow at him.

He catches it with ease, his reflexes as sharp as ever. “You’re mocking me, but when these cookies win a Nobel Prize for excellence in baking, I’ll remember this moment.”

“They’ll definitely give you a prize for patience,” you tease, motioning for him to get up. “Come on, it’s time.”

Tony perks up immediately, springing off the couch. “Finally! Let’s do this.”

Back in the kitchen, the dough feels firm and perfect beneath your fingers as you peel away the plastic wrap. Tony, on the other hand, is holding the baking sheet like it might explode in his hands.

“Uh, where do these live?” he asks, staring blankly at the cabinets.

“You’ve lived here for years, and you don’t know where the baking sheets are?” you say, crossing your arms.

“In my defense, I don’t bake. It’s not part of the Stark repertoire.”

You sigh, walk over, and pull the baking sheet from its drawer. Tony grins sheepishly, following you back to the counter.

The two of you start rolling the dough into balls, but Tony’s creations look less like cookies and more like abstract sculptures. Some are tiny, others are enormous. One is oddly triangular.

“Tony,” you say, biting back a laugh, “these cookies need to be the same size, or they’ll bake unevenly.”

“I’m going for a rustic vibe,” he says, holding up a lumpy dough ball with pride.

“Rustic or not, you’re about to have cookies baked on one side and raw on the other.”

“Fair point,” he says, flattening one of the larger blobs. “So, what’s the secret to the perfect cookie shape, Cookie Master?”

You smirk at the nickname. “Here, let me show you.”

Standing beside him, you reach for his hands and guide them, shaping the dough into a neat, even ball. His hands are warm beneath yours, and you can feel his eyes on you as you work.

“Hmm,” he murmurs.

“Hmm, what?” you ask, glancing up.

“Just wondering how much longer I can milk this helpless baker act before you realize I just wanted to get you this close.”

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks warm. “Tony Stark, are you flirting with me while rolling cookie dough?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

You try to keep a straight face, but his mischievous grin is infectious. “Less flirting, more rolling,” you say, though your tone is teasing.

Eventually, the cookies are prepped, and you watch as Tony carefully places them on the parchment-lined baking sheet. It’s almost endearing how focused he is, his tongue poking out slightly as he spaces each cookie with the precision of an engineer.

“Perfect,” he announces, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“They actually look decent,” you admit.

“Decent?” He clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, darling. These are works of art.”

“Alright, Michelangelo, put them in the oven before you throw out your back patting yourself.”

Tony slides the sheet into the preheated oven with surprising care, setting the timer with exaggerated flair.

“And now,” he says, turning to you with a triumphant smirk, “we wait. Again.”

“At least this time it’s only ten minutes,” you say, leaning against the counter.

“Ten minutes is still too long,” he replies, stepping closer. “You know what I think we should do while we wait?”

“What’s that?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

He leans down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I think we should make better use of this kitchen.”

Your breath catches as his hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him. His voice is low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin.

“Tony,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, “the cookies—”

“Are on a timer,” he interrupts, his lips grazing the corner of your mouth. “We’ve got time.”

Before you can argue, his mouth claims yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, the kind that makes your knees weak and your heart race. His hands slide up your sides, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that makes you forget everything else.

“Tony,” you murmur against his lips, your hands tangling in his hair.

“Hmm?” he hums, his lips trailing down to your jawline.

“I’m serious. If the cookies burn, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

He pulls back just enough to smirk at you, his eyes dark with mischief. “Fair point. But I’m holding you to this after they’re done.”

You laugh, breathless and flustered as you gently push him away. “Fine. Go sit down before you start something we can’t finish.”

Tony sighs dramatically but obliges, dropping onto a barstool with a grin that promises he’s not done with you yet.

When the timer dings, Tony jumps up like a kid on Christmas morning, practically shoving you aside to pull the baking sheet from the oven.

“Careful! They’re hot,” you warn as he sets the tray on the counter.

He grabs a spatula to transfer the cookies to a cooling rack, his excitement contagious. “Look at these beauties,” he says, holding one up. “Golden brown. Perfectly round. It’s almost like I’m a natural.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Let’s not get carried away.”

He bites into the cookie, his eyes widening. “Holy... These are amazing.”

You take a bite of your own, and the buttery, chocolatey goodness makes you hum in approval. “Okay, I’ll admit it. You did good.”

“Did good?” he repeats, feigning offense. “These cookies are a masterpiece. They should be in a museum.”

“They should be in your stomach,” you reply, grabbing another cookie.

The two of you sit at the counter, eating cookies straight off the cooling rack and laughing as you recount the day’s disasters.

“You know,” Tony says between bites, “this might be my best Christmas yet.”

“Better than the Christmas you bought yourself a private island?”

“Way better,” he says, his tone softening.

He reaches for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Thanks for putting up with me today. I know I can be a pain.”

You smile, leaning closer. “You’re not a pain. You’re just... a lot. But I like that about you.”

He grins, leaning in until his lips are just a breath away from yours. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

Later that night, as the kitchen quiets and the city sparkles with holiday lights outside, you find yourself back in Tony’s arms. The cookies are long forgotten, replaced by soft kisses and whispered promises.

“Next year,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear, “we’re making a gingerbread house.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “As long as you don’t burn it down.”

“Deal,” he replies, pulling you closer as the snow falls softly outside.

And in that moment, with his arms around you and the taste of chocolate still lingering, you know it’s the perfect Christmas.

[ironmandeficiency]

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

[your-yandere-bestfriend]

　　　　　ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.Wet dreams.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Todoroki Shoto

Based off the song Wet Dreamz by J. Cole.

(Guys do I drop this after a 2 year hiatus or no )

。。。 Though it was the second day of school already, there had already been talk of a new student—most likely gossip overheard from the U.A. staff. Typically a new student wasn’t of much appeal, this was a huge school after all, even though it was prestigious, but what made the U.A. students so chatty about this new student was the fact that she was a foreigner. There had only even been three American students in the long history of U.A. high school, so getting a transfer was not only impressive, due to the fact that she wasn’t required to participate in the entrance exams, and also exciting.

The bell chimed for second blocks end, and next for the students of class 3.A., was the drowse inducing subject. Math. The teachers filtered out in order to teach their proper subject, after all just because this was a hero school didn’t mean that they were excused from engaging in normal, more uneventful subjects. Todoroki sat with perfect posture in the back of the room, awaiting the teachers entrance. His ears perked up when he heard Midoriya speak of the new girl who might’ve been making her first entrance today, though he didn’t quite care for a new student, it honestly had nothing to do with him, he hadn’t found a need for more friends, Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, and Floppy felt plentiful.

The door slid open, the chattering of the class going still. In walked Cemento, but it wasn’t just him, it was also the new girl, and now that he has seen her with his own eyes, he could understand what the excitement was for. She had mesmerizing, smooth skin, she was delicate looking, with the such pretty eyes, they put his heterochromia ones to shame. Along with her pretty eyes and gorgeous figure her hair was long, around 30 inches, and red just like his left side, Todoroki couldn’t care less if it was real or not. He was sure his mouth was keenly open, but he knew he wasn’t alone, even the girls in the class were shocked at her appearance.

Cemento guided her to the front of the large classroom, in front of the expensive smart board that wasn’t yet displaying geometry problems, thankfully.

Cemento was preparing to give her the go ahead to start speaking but she already took that initiative for herself.

“Hi everyone it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you all! I’m … and I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you,” she beamed.

Sure she was already beautiful but todoroki could feel fire coming out his right side when she smiled revealing a straight line of pretty, white teeth. His multicolored eyes glanced around his classroom, and even the notorious Bakugou was in awe, a sight he has never yet seen.

“It is an absolute honor to have you here … ! Your Japanese is impressive!” Iida stood up moving his arm in the odd robotic like motions, but todoroki doubted anyone missed the telltale pink blush flushed across his pale face.

… bowed in response, traditional Japanese etiquette that she had obviously studied along with the language.

His eyes followed her long legs as she walked to the only empty seat in the room. Right next to him.

[hyukascampfire]

𝒯xt 𝒞ollection

-`❆ ⸺ 𝒯he mechanical 𝓈tar creaks overhead. 𝒾t hums a song.

それが君らしさの pace で, ここからが君だけの space

𝓖 ;

﹙📜﹚ 𝓈mut﹙🪵 ﹚𝒶ngst﹙🐾﹚ 𝒻luff﹙🪶﹚𝓋iolence

SOOBIN

# soobin’s tales

milk with your cookies? ⇢ 5.8k ‧ 📜

g : smut

too excited to sleep on christmas night, the last thing you might've expected was to find a very tall, very handsome man with arms full of gifts broken into your home. also, for him to claim himself to be santa claus.

gift wrapping ⇢ 3.4k ‧ 📜, 🐾

g : domestic fluff, married

it’s a shame that soobin has to work on christmas eve, but coming home to a fire-toasted home and his little family is enough to make up for it.

YEONJUN

# yeonjun’s tales

to: someone from a warm climate ⇢ 93.3k ‧ 📜, 🪵, 🪶

g : fantasy, faerie

a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

krampusnacht ⇢ 6.6k ‧ 📜

g : threesome, fantasy?

krampus, creatures of european folklore, come one winter’s night every year with exactly one duty: to punish the naughty, who they are said to either eat or drag down to the hell from which they came. assigned to you this year are two of krampus' most revered helpers. they adore their purpose. come december 5th, they make their march through the snow and toward the sweetest treat that they might ever have the opportunity to crack.

BEOMGYU

# beomgyu’s tales

at swan lake ⇢ 10.3k ‧ 📜, 🪵

g : fantasy , forbidden romance

as both equals and opposites, white swan and black swan, it is paramount that you and choi beomgyu do not touch. the curse of your natures did not even make exception for incidental brushes. that was never an issue for you—not until the day the prince took it upon himself to break every rule you’d ever known.

krampusnacht ⇢ 6.6k ‧ 📜

g : threesome, fantasy?

krampus, creatures of european folklore, come one winter’s night every year with exactly one duty: to punish the naughty, who they are said to either eat or drag down to the hell from which they came. assigned to you this year are two of krampus' most revered helpers. they adore their purpose. come december 5th, they make their march through the snow and toward the sweetest treat that they might ever have the opportunity to crack.

let it snow! ⇢ 1.9k ‧ 🐾

g : fluff, mutual pining

choi beomgyu and you are best at one thing: getting on yeonjun's nerves. going out for a snowball fight on the first winter snow, he has the perfect plan.

TAEHYUN

# taehyun’s tales

to: someone from a warm climate ⇢ 93.3k ‧ 📜, 🪵, 🪶

g : fantasy , faerie

a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

it will come back ⇢ 6.9k ‧ 📜

g : yandere

it’s a small world. you knew this, but you came to really believe it when you ran into an old classmate at the grocery store on a snowy vacation. how strange is that? even more so when he shows up once more at the door of your cabin, frozen from the cold and needing your help.

ginger & snap ⇢ 7.9k ‧ 📜

g : smut , strawberry shortcake au

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered.

HYUKA

ㅤ# hyuka’s tales

heartworm ⇢ 17.8k ‧ 📜, 🪵

g : coming of age romance

“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”

velvet fuzz ⇢ 5.4k ‧ 📜, 🐾

g : hybrid

it’s strange that you find a teary-eyed, pink-nosed man outside your house while coming home on christmas eve. even stranger that he’s got antlers sprouting up from his head.

the frost remembers ⇢ 2k ‧ 🐾

g : second chance? fantasy

artblock has one weakness: creation. it just so happens that you decide to make your final hurrah, the greatest work of your life, out of winter’s most gentle gift. and, the frost remembers.

ぶつからないように 見えない pen で引く線, お互いの style を優先 出来てる気。

(©) ⸺ hyukascampfire please do not steal, plagiarize, or repost any of my works. these works are in no way accurate reflections of the idols or members portrayed, they are pure fiction and I do not claim them to be anything but that.

[51faces]

Loudest Love

Dreamcatcher's Lee Yubin (Dami) x Female reader

AN: Please read.

Hi Lovelies! 🌟

I don't know how or why, but I can't believe I finished this story after only a short amount of time! It feels surreal! I truly hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it. 💖(sorry for any mistakes)

I don’t want to spoil too much, but I do want to give a quick heads-up: TW: Homophobic comments and hate speech appear in this story, so please be mindful while reading.

Thank you all for your support! I can't wait to hear what you think! 😊✨

Much love, Fae 🫰 🐰🐤🐺🐱🐶🐼🦊 🫰

P.S. This hairstyle on Dami is just chef's kiss! 👌💕

Dami sat in the now-quiet café, staring at the empty seat in front of her, where Y/N had just been moments ago. The door had closed behind Y/N with a soft chime, the sound lingering in the air like an echo. It hadn’t been long, yet it felt as if a lifetime had passed since their last shared gaze. Y/N's gentle voice still hung in the air, soft and melodic. "Take care of yourself, okay?" Those words had filled the room with a warmth that clung to Dami, even as Y/N disappeared from sight.

Dami pressed her lips together, fighting the swell of emotion building inside her. Her chest tightened under the weight of Y/N’s parting words, the simple phrase wrapping around her heart like a vice. For months, Dami had convinced herself that pushing Y/N away was the right choice—necessary, even. She had told herself that she was protecting them both, shielding them from the uncertainty of the future. But now, sitting in the café with Y/N’s absence settling like a shadow in the space around her, she could no longer ignore the nagging doubts. The seat across from her felt painfully empty, a hollow reminder of what she had let slip through her fingers.

Outside, the world carried on, blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil. Sunlight streamed through the café’s large windows, casting patterns across the polished tables. Pedestrians hurried past, caught up in the rhythm of their own lives. But for Dami, the vibrant scene was muted, the world around her blurred and distant. The laughter and chatter of other customers seemed miles away. She traced the rim of her coffee cup, the cool porcelain grounding her, though her heart felt like it was on fire.

The walk back to her apartment felt endless. Each step weighed heavier than the last, as though she were moving through quicksand. The cobblestone streets stretched on, seemingly without end. With every step, memories of Y/N replayed in her mind: their spontaneous adventures, late-night conversations that had stretched into the morning, the sound of their laughter intertwined like a song. The things she had taken for granted now stood out vividly in her mind, reminders of a bond she had severed.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, notifications from her bandmates about upcoming schedules—rehearsals, concerts, meetings. But they felt intrusive, foreign, as though they were messages meant for someone else. Dami barely glanced at the screen. The world of Dreamcatcher, once her entire focus, now felt distant. All that occupied her thoughts was Y/N: her radiant smile, the crinkle of her eyes when she laughed, the comforting warmth of her presence.

The emptiness in Dami’s chest deepened with each passing moment. It was as if part of her had been carved out, leaving a void that pulsed with longing. She wanted to reach out, to take back the words and actions that had pushed Y/N away, but all she could do was trudge on, lost in a haze of regret and unspoken apologies. The question gnawed at her: would she ever get another chance, or had she permanently closed the door on a future with Y/N?

-----

Weeks passed. Dreamcatcher’s tour was in full swing, and stepping back on stage, Dami felt as though nothing had changed. The lights blazed bright and blinding, cutting through the darkened arena. The cheers from the crowd washed over her, rising and falling in waves of excitement and adoration. The energy in the air was electric, the familiar buzz of thousands of fans chanting their names, creating a wall of sound that usually wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

But tonight, it all felt distant. As though she were separated from it by an invisible wall. She executed every move with the precision expected of her, her body in perfect sync with the music, but her heart wasn’t there. It was somewhere else—tethered to memories of Y/N, playing on an endless loop in her mind. No matter how much the crowd roared, it couldn’t fill the hollow ache that had taken root inside her.

When the shows ended and the adrenaline faded, Dami retreated to the quiet of her room. She would scroll through her phone, through old conversations and photos with Y/N. Every night was the same—revisiting memories of happier days, sun-drenched afternoons, carefree outings, late-night talks. Each photo was a reminder of what she had let go. Y/N had been her anchor, the one constant amidst the chaos of her life, and Dami had pushed her away, thinking it was the right thing to do.

JiU was the first to notice that something was wrong. After a particularly grueling rehearsal, where the choreography felt more like a chore than an escape, she pulled Dami aside. "What’s going on with you?" JiU asked, concern laced through her words. "You’ve been off for weeks."

"I’m fine," Dami said automatically, her voice flat. But even she didn’t believe it.

JiU crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. "No, you’re not. I can see it, Dami. You're not yourself. Please, talk to me."

For a moment, Dami stood in silence, staring at the floor. The weight of her secret felt too heavy to keep carrying. Finally, she sank to the floor, pressing her back against the cool wall of the practice room. "Unnie, I messed up," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I pushed Y/N away because I thought it was the right thing. I thought if I focused on Dreamcatcher, it would keep us from disbanding. I didn’t want to lose everything again. I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing."

Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "But I was wrong. I lost the one person who was always there for me, and now… I can’t find her. I’ve been calling, texting. Nothing. She’s just… gone."

JiU knelt beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Dami, if she’s that important to you, you can’t give up. You have to fight for her."

"I’ve tried," Dami replied, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It’s been months. I don’t even know where she is."

JiU thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. "I think I know a way to help."

-----

JiU sat in her room, preparing for a solo VLive session with the fans. The moment her stream went live, the chat exploded with questions and excitement. She smiled warmly, engaging with the viewers, but a thought weighed on her mind. After some lighthearted conversation, JiU’s expression grew more serious.

“I need your help with something,” she said, her tone soft but urgent. The chat buzzed with curiosity. “There’s someone we’ve lost contact with—someone important. We knew her as InsomniacGirl. If anyone knows anything, please reach out. This is really important to one of our members."

The chat went wild, with fans reminiscing about InsomniacGirl and vowing to help however they could. The hashtag #FindInsomniacGirl quickly trended, as Dreamcatcher’s dedicated fans sprang into action, determined to track down the elusive figure.

JiU ended the VLive with a hopeful smile, feeling a sense of purpose as she logged off. If anyone could find Y/N, it was InSomnia. She just had to hope it wasn’t too late.

The following days blurred together for Dami, each one bleeding into the next. Rehearsals, performances, and fan events came and went, but none of it reached her heart. Every night, she lay in bed, wondering if she had lost Y/N for good. Meanwhile, the Dreamcatcher fanbase was working like detectives, piecing together clues, until one fan finally made a breakthrough. A screenshot from a game company’s website showed Y/N listed as a graphic designer.

JiU’s phone buzzed with the news. A spark of hope ignited inside her. Y/N hadn’t disappeared completely—she was out there, working, living her life. Now, JiU just had to find a way to reconnect them.

Without telling Dami, JiU reached out to the company, hoping to arrange a meeting. It was a delicate situation, and she didn’t want to raise Dami’s hopes only to crush them. Her fingers hovered over the send button for a moment before pressing it, the weight of possibility hanging in the air.

-----

The restaurant was a quiet haven tucked away in the bustling heart of the city. Soft ambient music floated through the air, mingling with the savory aromas of grilled dishes and freshly baked bread. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting warm patterns across the elegantly set tables. JiU sat across from Y/N, whose presence was a striking contrast to the serene atmosphere. Y/N’s fingers were tightly clasped in her lap, knuckles pale, betraying the nervous tension simmering beneath the surface. Yet, that same calm confidence that had once captivated JiU remained—a quiet strength beneath the uncertainty.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” JiU said softly, offering a small smile, hoping to ease the tension.

Y/N nodded, her expression guarded, her eyes revealing little. The weight of the moment hung between them like an invisible wall. “I figured this was about Yubin,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper. The name seemed to fill the space between them, heavy with unspoken emotions.

JiU’s heart tightened at the mention of Dami. Leaning forward, she tried to bridge the distance that Y/N’s silence had created. “Yeah, it is,” JiU confessed, her tone gentle but unwavering. “She’s been a mess without you, Y/N. She thought pushing you away was what you needed, but she was wrong. She knows that now.”

Y/N looked down, and JiU could see the turmoil hidden beneath her calm exterior, the hurt etched across her face. It was clear that time had not yet healed the wounds from their separation. Memories seemed to flash behind Y/N’s eyes, the silence between them punctuated by the weight of what had been left unsaid.

“I’m not here to ask you to take her back,” JiU continued, her voice careful, seeking to reassure. “But I think you should know that she’s been trying to find you for months. She’s changed, Y/N. She realizes how badly she messed up, and she’s terrified it’s too late.” JiU paused, searching Y/N’s face for a sign of understanding. “If you still feel even a fraction of what she feels… I think you should hear her out.”

The soft clinking of glasses and the murmur of other patrons filled the quiet that followed. Y/N remained still, her gaze fixed on the table, deep in thought. JiU watched her closely, hoping to see a flicker of recognition, a hint of the emotions still buried beneath Y/N’s stoic exterior.

“In three days,” JiU said, her voice quiet but insistent, “come to the Dreamcatcher company. Just tell the front desk you’re Y/N, and Dami will be there, waiting for you.” She held her breath, the words hanging in the air. “If you decide not to come, we’ll understand. But she deserves a chance to explain.”

Y/N sat in silence, the weight of JiU's words heavy between them. JiU felt the unspoken connection flicker—perhaps Y/N still cared. After a moment of quiet reflection, Y/N thanked her softly and stood, her movements poised but hesitant. As she walked out of the restaurant, JiU’s chest tightened. Watching Y/N disappear beyond the glass doors, she felt a glimmer of hope, like the first stirrings of spring after a long, bitter winter—a chance for healing and renewal.

-----

The day had finally arrived, and JiU’s anxiety was at an all-time high. Every tick of the clock seemed louder, the seconds stretching unbearably as she waited for any word about Y/N. What if Y/N didn’t show? What if she had changed her mind? These thoughts gnawed at JiU, making her palms sweat and her heart race. She could barely focus on her own rehearsals, distracted by the fear that Y/N wouldn’t come. The anticipation felt suffocating, the hope of reconnection teetering on the edge of possibility.

Then, finally, her phone buzzed. It was a message from the front desk: Y/N was here.

Relief washed over JiU, like a cool breeze on a scorching day. Her heart leapt with excitement as she quickly texted the front desk, instructing them to bring Y/N to the third-floor practice room. Her hands trembled as she hit send. The next step was finding Dami.

Meanwhile, Dami dragged herself through another rehearsal. Each movement felt mechanical, as if her body was going through the motions while her spirit was elsewhere. The music that once set her heart alight now echoed hollowly. Thoughts of Y/N haunted her, a constant reminder of the emptiness she carried. She had resigned herself to the belief that Y/N was truly gone.

When rehearsal finally ended, JiU approached Dami with a smile that stood out against the day’s exhaustion. “Hey, Dami,” she said lightly, though the glint in her eyes betrayed a deeper urgency. “Can you head up to the practice room on the third floor? I need you to check something for me.”

Dami frowned, confused. “What for?”

“It’s nothing serious,” JiU replied, trying to sound casual, though her excitement was barely contained. “Just trust me, okay?”

With a sigh, Dami relented. She was too drained to question JiU’s request. “Fine,” she muttered, grabbing her water bottle as she made her way up the stairs, her thoughts heavy as ever.

Pushing open the door to the practice room, Dami fully expected to find it empty. But as she stepped inside, time seemed to stop. There, standing in the center of the room, was Y/N.

Dami stood frozen in the practice room, the once-familiar space now feeling like a sacred ground of memories and emotions she had tried so hard to bury. The scent of sweat mixed with the lingering fragrance of cleaning supplies filled her nostrils, but it was the sight of Y/N standing in front of her that made her heart skip a beat. For an agonizing moment, time seemed to stretch, and the world around them melted away. It felt like a dream, one she had replayed in her mind a thousand times, but never dared to believe would come true. Yet, there Y/N was, undeniably real and within reach, her presence igniting a fire of warmth and anxiety deep within Dami's chest.

Her heart raced like a drum, each beat echoing her want to rush forward and pull Y/N into her arms, to shield her from all the hurt that had stained their past. But hesitation gripped her like a vice; she remembered every moment of pain she had caused, every slice of regret that lay between them like a chasm. Dami’s hands clenched into tight fists, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil raging inside her. Each breath was laced with the weight of unspoken words, a thousand apologies clamoring for release.

“Y/N…” Dami’s voice emerged, shaky and barely more than a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment they found themselves in. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat betraying the tumult of feelings she had tried to suppress. She took a hesitant step forward, feeling as though the ground beneath her was both solid and precarious. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N remained silent, her expression inscrutable, and the uncertainty reflected in her eyes tightened Dami’s chest even more. The dam she had constructed around her feelings gave way, and before she could restrain herself, a torrent of words spilled out. “I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away,” she admitted, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “I believed that if I focused on my career—on Dreamcatcher—I could secure a stable future for us, to provide and protect you from whatever challenges lay ahead. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. By looking too far ahead, I failed to see what was right in front of me.”

The tears that had threatened to overflow for so long began to gather in Dami's eyes, shimmering like fragile pearls ready to spill over the edges. She made no move to wipe them away; the soft warmth trickling down her cheeks felt like a release she had been desperately craving. In this moment, vulnerability surged through her, and she surrendered to it completely. She didn’t care anymore; this moment was too precious to hide behind the walls she'd built, too significant to mask with a facade.

She needed Y/N to understand how deeply this had shattered her, how the weight of her sorrow pressed heavily on her heart. “I’ve been so lost without you, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the strain of her confession, each word trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind. “Every day, every performance—it’s like I’m just going through the motions, playing a role in a story that feels utterly hollow. None of it means anything without you; it’s just noise, just lights and distractions that can’t fill the void you’ve left behind. I don’t care about fame, success, or anything if I can’t have you by my side.”

As she spoke, her emotions poured out in a flood, raw and unfiltered. The world around them faded into a distant blur—the bustling crowd, the bright lights of the venue, the murmurs of fans—all of it dimmed in the face of her truth. The air between them felt thick with unspoken words, and Dami took a step closer, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm that had formed between them. She searched Y/N’s eyes, hoping for a flicker of understanding, a glimmer of the love they once shared that had been clouded by silence and distance.

“I’ve realized that without you, all the accolades and applause are just echoes of emptiness,” she continued, her voice trembling but laced with unwavering sincerity. “You are my heartbeat, my muse. Please, just tell me there’s still a chance for us.”

Dami’s voice cracked under the weight of her emotions, each syllable tinged with desperation. Before she fully grasped what was happening, she found herself kneeling on the cold, hard floor, her palms pressed against the worn surface as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Tears burst forth, streaming down her cheeks, glistening in the soft light that barely illuminated the room. They pooled on the floor before her, a silent testament to her pain and regret—unrestrained, unfiltered, a stark contrast to the fortress of composure she had built around her heart.

“Please… please give me another chance,” she begged, her breath hitching in her throat. Her eyes, once fierce and confident, now shimmered with vulnerability and longing. Each word was laced with a raw sincerity, a plea that echoed in the silence like a haunting melody. “I’ll do anything to make it right...” The tremor in her voice betrayed the storm of emotions swirling within her, a tempest that had raged for far too long. “…I’d even leave the group.”

The weight of her offer hung heavy in the air, a sacrifice she had never imagined making, yet it felt necessary, as if it were the only way to bridge the chasm that had widened between them. With every heartbeat, the truth of her feelings clawed its way to the surface. “Please, Y/N, I love you so much,” she choked out, her heart aching with the words. The pain of their separation was a fierce reminder of what she had lost, and the thought of losing Y/N again was unbearable. “I can’t lose you… I can’t.”

Her gaze locked onto Y/N's, searching for a flicker of hope amid the uncertainty that hung thick in the air. In that moment, nothing else mattered—only the possibility of redemption and the chance to reclaim the love that had slipped through her fingers like sand. Dami was all in, willing to sacrifice everything, driven by an all-consuming need to rewrite their story, to craft a future where they could be together, undeterred by the past.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she watched Dami, her heart aching at the sight of the woman she had cared for so deeply reduced to this, pleading before her. Dami's shoulders trembled, her once vibrant spirit seemingly crushed under the weight of despair. Shadows danced across her features, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and endless worry. The sight sent a fresh wave of grief surging through Y/N, as memories of their laughter and shared dreams faded into the background, swallowed by the current moment of raw vulnerability.

Slowly, as if moving through water, Y/N knelt down in front of Dami, her knees sinking into the cool ground. With an almost reverent touch, she reached out and cupped Dami’s tear-streaked face in her hands. The warmth of Dami’s soft skin was a painful reminder of the warmth that had once filled their time together. Y/N brushed her thumb across Dami’s cheek, tracing the path of the tears that had flowed freely, her heart aching to erase the hurt that was etched upon her beloved's face.

“Yubinnie,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion, each syllable carrying the weight of the love and promises left unsaid. Her gaze softened, a profound tenderness glimmering in her eyes as the dim light of the room cast delicate shadows against the walls. “You know I’d never ask you to give up your dream,” she continued, her eyes searching Dami’s, filled with a mix of admiration and longing.

Every word she spoke was layered with understanding and a love that transcended time, reaching through the scars of their past pain. The air between them felt electric, humming with unspoken emotions and shared memories. Laughter, late-night conversations, and stolen moments flickered like echoes between them. “All I’ve ever wanted was to stand by your side,” she confessed, her voice trembling under the weight of her sincerity. “I forgave you a long time ago. The heart has a way of healing, even when the mind still struggles to let go.”

With a gentle motion, Y/N reached out, her arms open, offering a sanctuary amidst the storm swirling between them. “Come here,” she urged softly, her heart racing, every beat echoing with anticipation. In that moment, the outside world faded into insignificance. All that remained was the undeniable connection between them—the unbreakable bond that had weathered every storm and still bloomed in the warmth of their shared vulnerability.

Dami let out a shaky breath, her tears morphing into quiet sobs as Y/N enveloped her in a tight embrace, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a long-lost puzzle. In that moment, the weight of months of separation finally began to lift, transformational air filling the space between them.

“I missed you so much,” Y/N said softly, her forehead resting against Dami’s, their breathing synchronizing in an intimate rhythm as they relished the warmth of each other. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Me too,” Dami whispered back, her heart pounding in her chest like a thunderous drum as she leaned in slowly, their foreheads brushing together. With a gentle, tentative touch, she pressed her lips against Y/N’s in a soft kiss, a kiss filled with every unspoken word, every unshed tear, and every ounce of love they had held for each other through the trials of their separation.

As they lost themselves in that brief moment of togetherness, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the echoes of their heartbeats and the unbreakable bond they shared. In that nightmarish practice room, surrounded by mirrors that reflected every inch of their vulnerability, they discovered the truth that had eluded them for so long: love, once shaken, could always be rebuilt stronger, and with every trembling heartbeat, they were ready to start anew.

-----

Over the next few days, she seemed to shed her previous inhibitions, transforming from the gentle, reserved member of her group into someone radiating vitality and joy. The change was so marked that it became impossible for her fans to ignore. During interviews and livestreams, Dami’s once-sad demeanor was replaced with an effervescent brightness that shimmered through the screen, captivating audiences both old and new.

Gone were the days of her subtle smiles and lowered eyes; now, her laughter danced through every segment, filling the air with a buoyant lightness that had been missing for months. There was a newfound spark in her eyes—a flicker of happiness that hinted at transformative moments of her life. The fans, ever attuned to the nuances of her expression, began to speculate energetically about what had contributed to this newfound joy.

Social media buzzed with excitement as fan forums lit up with threads bursting with theories.

Dami’s glowing lately. I'm so glad she's happy and healthy 👀 one fan posited, their words laden with both hope and curiosity.

“What happened to make Dami so happy? And can I please have some?” queried another. “We all know why Dami’s smiling—InsomniacGirl is BACK in her life! #DreamcatcherLove”, they chimed in, connecting the dots of Dami’s recent uplifted spirit to the rumored return of the enigmatic figure from her past.

“JiU didn’t follow up on that VLive secret mission… Something’s happening behind the scenes 👀👀 #InsomniacGirl,” speculated another fan, whose excitement reflected a collective eagerness to learn more. They poured over past streams, hunting for any hidden clues or references that could shed light on the mystery surrounding Dami’s uplifted mood.

Despite the flurry of speculation and the narratives swirling through social media, Dami remained quiet about any personal changes in her life. After all the ups and downs she had faced in the public eye, she had learned to keep her private world tucked safely away from the relentless scrutiny that came with fame. While she was undeniably a star, she was also a young woman trying to find her own happiness away from the spotlight, especially after everything that had unfolded in recent months.

It was during one of Dreamcatcher’s biggest concerts of the year that the weight of this contrast—between her public and private self—seemed to blur. The anticipation in the venue was palpable, crackling like static electricity as the fans packed the arena to capacity. The air buzzed with excitement, a sea of passionate energy that rose to a crescendo as the lights began to dim. The crowd erupted, chanting the names of their beloved members in unison, their voices forming a wave of love and anticipation.

Amidst the flashing lights and thundering music, something deeper simmered within Dami, something unexpected that resonated beyond the show. It was a moment that would linger in the memories of fans long after the night had ended, marking a shift in the air, both on and off the stage.

In the front row, a familiar face stood out amidst the sea of ecstatic InSomnias. Y/N was there, cheering and waving her light stick with a joy reminiscent of her earlier days as one of Dreamcatcher’s most devoted supporters. 

A fellow fan, an avid Twitter user, caught sight of her and couldn’t believe their eyes. Y/N was back! They swiftly snapped a photo and posted it online with the caption, “Wait, is that InsomniacGirl in the front row?!? Omg, she’s BACK!” The tweet spread like wildfire, racking up retweets and likes at an astonishing pace.

“GUYS, IT’S HAPPENING! Y/N IS BACK AT DREAMCATCHER CONCERTS! Dami looks SO HAPPY! 😭😭,” another post chimed in, accompanied by a blurry but clear image of Dami beaming at the sight of Y/N.

Multiple fans joined in, their excitement palpable across social media. “I can’t believe Y/N is back, this is the cutest thing ever. #Dreamcatcher #InsomniacGirl,” one user tweeted, complemented by a flurry of joyful emojis. The digital atmosphere was electric, as pockets of fans around the globe celebrated the return of a beloved figure who had taken a hiatus.

Little did they know that Y/N's night was about to take a heartwarming turn. After the concert concluded, and after the euphoric chants of “Encore! Encore!” had subsided, the staff quietly escorted Y/N backstage. Confounded yet excited, her heart raced with a mix of nerves and anticipation as she navigated through the dimly lit corridors lined with posters of the band and photos from past performances. The electrifying vibe of the concert still hung thick in the air, but Y/N's focus narrowed down to what was ahead—seeing Dami again.

Suddenly, amidst the chaos of post-concert festivities, Dami spotted her. The world around them faded as she rushed over, her eyes sparkling with disbelief and joy. Without hesitation, Dami scooped Y/N into a warm embrace that felt like a cozy blanket. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she whispered softly, a tremor of emotion threading through her words. “This all started because I was selfish. I thought the band would get in the way, but now… I want to merge my life with yours. I don’t want to hide anymore.”

When the girls returned to the stage for their encore performance, Dami took the mic again, her heart pounding. The crowd quieted down, sensing something big was about to happen.

“I want to share something important with all of you,” Dami began, her voice steady but emotional. “Some of you might have guessed, but I want to say it out loud.”

In a moment that felt like a scene straight out of a fairytale, Dami rushed backstage, her heartbeat echoing the excitement of the thousands of eager faces waiting just beyond the curtain. Her eyes sparkled with determination as she grasped Y/N’s hand, pulling her into the spotlight. The crowd erupted into an uproar, recognizing Y/N as “InsomniacGirl,” a moniker that symbolized unconditional love and support in the vibrant world of fandom.

As the spotlight illuminated their faces, Dami momentarily paused, her gaze piercing through the sea of fans. “This person standing beside me,” she began, her voice trembling with emotion, “and I have shared our lives since childhood. We laughed, we cried, and we became each other’s rock, even when the biggest troubles we faced were as minor as spilling a juice box on a summer’s day.”

The crowd laughed and listened with rapt attention, their excitement simmering into something deeper. Dami turned to Y/N, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, mirroring the sentiment cascading from her heart. “She is the reason why so many of you Insomnia’s look up to me,” Dami continued, her voice thickening with emotion. “She helped mold me into who I am today, and I could not be more thankful for her presence in my life.”

Y/N’s smile widened, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked at Dami, the love that anchored her soul shining brightly in that electrifying moment. The warmth radiating from their connection was palpable, and the audience shared in their joy, holding their breath as Dami prepared to share a more intimate truth.

Dami took a deep breath, her voice growing more certain as she spoke to the crowd. “Some of you might know her as InsomniacGirl, the passionate fan who would brave every crowd and never miss a single stage. Others might recognize her as the incredibly talented graphic designer who breathes life into art,” she said, her gaze locking onto Y/N’s with unwavering tenderness.

“But to me, she is so much more,” Dami continued, her voice softening, each word carrying a deeper weight. “She’s my rock when everything feels too heavy. She’s the one who knows every part of me—the good, the bad, and everything in between—and still chooses to stand by my side. To me…” Dami paused, her breath catching as the emotion swelled in her chest. She took a shaky breath before continuing, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s.

“To me… she’s my girlfriend, my partner, and the love of my life.”

The words hung in the air, charging the atmosphere with raw emotion. The crowd erupted once again, louder than every before, not just for a beloved artist revealing a personal side, but for the beautiful love story playing out live on stage. In that moment, in front of thousands, Dami and Y/N became symbols of hope, love, and unwavering support.

Dami’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she shared this part of her life, her vulnerability radiating like a beacon. Y/N reciprocated with a warm smile, her heart breaking and mending all at once as the affection echoed throughout the crowd. The sight of Dami, filled with joy yet trembling slightly, only endeared her more to the audience, tightening the bond between idol and fan.

The moment ignited a frenzy on social media—clips from the performance quickly circulated, capturing the rawness of Dami's declaration. It was an iconic moment in pop culture history, one that solidified their love and showcased the undeniable connection they shared.

As the night continued, the group graced the stage one last time for a series of encores, launching into their beloved song “Silent Night.” The ending instrumental rushed through the crowd like waves, harmonizing with the still-echoing happiness from Dami’s heartfelt confession. Every familiar note felt imbued with a sense of solidarity and joy that only enhanced the collective elation in the arena.

When the lights finally dimmed, the crowd began to disperse, each fan leaving with memories of a magical, love filled night etched in their hearts. Y/N and Dami walked side by side into the post-concert haze, ready to face the world together. With fingers intertwined and spirits lifted, they stepped out of the limelight — both excited and apprehensive about what lay ahead. Love had become their greatest anthem, echoing louder than any song, a melody they would share wherever life took them next.

-----

In a heartwarming yet controversial turn of events, multiple clips featuring Dami of Dreamcatcher and her partner Y/N have taken South Korea by storm. It quickly gained traction, becoming a trending topic across various news outlets, blogs, and social media platforms. The duality of public reactions has resulted in a fascinating discourse surrounding love, acceptance, and culture in the conservative nation.

From the moment the clip aired, social media erupted with reactions that were as polarized as they were passionate. Fans and skeptics alike engaged in spirited discussions about the implications of Dami’s revelation. While many flooded timelines with support, expressing admiration and pride, others hurled insults, criticizing the couple for their openness. The social media landscape mirrored the nation itself, reflecting both progress and resistance to change.

Among the supportive messages were a slew of shockingly hateful tweets that laid bare the harsh realities of online discourse, especially when it comes to LGBTQ+ representation.

"Absolutely disgusting. She just destroyed her career. Good riddance. #BoycottDreamcatcher," one user raged, clearly unwilling to accept the couple’s relationship.

Some comments were even more brutal in their homophobia:

“Keep that filthy lifestyle away from us. Dreamcatcher is ruined now. Hope they lose all their fans. #BoycottDreamcatcher,” another tweeted viciously.

Others didn’t hold back their disdain, attacking not just the relationship, but their very existence:

"Of course another one of these idols is gay. What a freak. Hope she disappears. #DreamcatcherCancelled."

And in a particularly cruel attack, one user wrote:

"No one cares about your gay love story. You both should just stay in the closet or leave Korea altogether. #DreamcatcherOver."

Despite this wave of negativity, not only international fans but many Korean fans took it upon themselves to counterbalance the hate. As the news of Dami and Y/N’s relationship spread across social media, waves of support surged from both local and global fanbases. Hashtags like #DreamcatcherLove and #SupportDami began trending as fans expressed their unwavering loyalty to the duo.

"This is SO rare in Korea. My respect for Dreamcatcher just shot through the roof! #DreamcatcherLove 🌈❤️," one fan tweeted, encapsulating the sentiments of many who were proud to see representation manifest in such a high-profile way.

Some Korean fans highlighted the importance of their voices in this discussion, calling out others for their harmful views:

"We need more of this in our country. Dami and Y/N are brave, and we should support them. If you can’t, just stay silent. #SupportDami 🏳️‍🌈," one tweet read, signaling that support for the couple was growing even at home.

Support wasn’t limited to just the InSomnia fanbase. People from all walks of life and even outside the K-pop community voiced their admiration for Dami and Y/N’s story.

"I don’t even listen to K-pop, but their story is so beautiful! Love is love. #SupportDami #LoveIsLove ❤️🌈," wrote one user, showing how their relationship resonated with a much wider audience.

The emotional responses only deepened as more context about their relationship came to light.

"Dami met Y/N when they were kids?! This is some movie-level romance 😭❤️#DreamcatcherLove #SupportDami." gushed another fan, highlighting the endearing childhood connection that had evolved into a beautiful love story.

The flood of nostalgic memories and shared history only added layers to their relationship, compelling many to see it as a testament to true love.

"Y/N was always there from the beginning ... WHY AM I CRYING??? #DreamcatcherLove 💖," shared a user who felt genuinely moved by the authenticity of their bond.

Despite the barrage of negative comments and calls for a boycott, Dami's supporters remained undeterred. The backlash, instead of silencing them, only strengthened their resolve. Fans, especially the fiercely loyal InSomnias, rallied together, determined to drown out the hate with even louder voices of love and acceptance. Rather than allowing the negativity to dominate the conversation, they flooded social media with messages of solidarity, turning the controversy into a movement.

“If you’re mad about Dami’s announcement, you were never a true fan. ✌️ Love is love! #DreamcatcherLove #SupportDami🌈,” one tweet encouraged, reinforcing a culture of acceptance and inclusivity.

Some fans even took the homophobic criticism and flipped it into a call for action:

"If you're angry, how about streaming all of Dreamcatcher's songs instead? Let's go, InSomnia! #DreamcatcherForever 🏳️‍🌈💿," a passionate fan replied.

Moreover, InSomnia had no intention of backing down. They rallied under hashtags like #DreamcatcherForever and urged others to support the band in even greater numbers.

"Boycott?? More like buy all their albums! #DreamcatcherForever 🏳️‍🌈💿," one fan stated, turning a critique into a celebration of Dami and Y/N’s strength.

Others chimed in with playful confidence, saying:

“Dami coming out of her glass closet 😂 girl we BEEN knew 🌈#DreamcatcherForever ” affirming that the relationship was not a surprise to devoted fans.

The Dami and Y/N clip has not only sparked a dialogue about love and acceptance in Korea but has also fostered a sense of unity among fans, showcasing the powerful role that social media can play in shaping conversations around controversial topics. Much like their music, Dami and Y/N's story resonates on multiple levels, presenting a mixture of joy and resistance.

As discussions about gender identity and love continue to evolve, the world is watching to see how Dreamcatcher—and their inspired fans—navigate this cultural moment.

-----

Now, sitting at the same café where their hearts had once broken, Dami and Y/N found themselves in a moment that felt worlds apart from the past. The golden afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing them in warmth. The sounds of the bustling café faded into the background as their eyes met, a tender smile curling on Y/N’s lips.

“I still can’t believe you took me back,” Dami said softly, her voice fragile with emotion. “After everything I put us through... I thought I’d ruined everything.” Her eyes dropped to the table, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup nervously. “Breaking things off with you... it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I’m so sorry for all the pain I caused.”

Y/N gazed at her for a moment, her eyes full of understanding, before a gentle laugh slipped from her lips. She reached across the table, taking Dami’s hand in hers, the warmth of the touch instantly soothing. “You don’t need to keep apologizing,” she said softly, giving Dami’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It hurt at the time, yeah, but... that’s in the past. What matters is that we found our way back. And now we’re here—stronger than before.”

Dami’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked up, her heart full of emotions she wasn’t used to sharing so openly. But with Y/N, it felt safe. It felt right. “You make it sound so simple.”

Y/N smiled, reaching out to brush a stray hair from Dami’s face, her touch light and full of affection. “Because it is simple,” she replied, her voice as gentle as a whisper. “We went through something hard, but we came out the other side. We’re better for it. And honestly...” She gave a playful shrug. “I kind of like that I made Dreamcatcher’s Dami come crawling back to me.”

Dami let out a breathy laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, the fans certainly didn’t let me off easy.” She grinned, the lightness in her expression matching the joy in her heart. “But they’ve been amazing. They’ve had our backs the whole time. It’s overwhelming, really, to see how much love we’ve gotten.”

“#DreamcatcherForever,” Y/N teased, her voice full of warmth. “They’re incredible. It’s like they knew we’d find our way back before we even did.”

“They really did,” Dami chuckled. “I guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.”

For a moment, they sat in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, no longer weighed down by the past. The pain they’d once carried had melted away, leaving only a shared future to look forward to. The world around them seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them—here, now, in this perfect moment.

Dami’s gaze softened as she looked at Y/N, her heart swelling with a wave of gratitude so strong it almost took her breath away. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I am. Thank you... for giving us another chance.”

Y/N’s smile widened, full of love and understanding, as she leaned forward. “There was never a doubt,” she whispered back. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N leaned forward, her eyes soft and full of love, and Dami’s heart raced in her chest, warmth flooding through her as their faces drew closer. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them surrounded by sunlight, as if the universe had conspired to make this moment perfect. Y/N’s hand cupped Dami’s cheek with a familiar tenderness, her thumb brushing lightly across her skin, and a soft breath escaped Dami’s lips.

Their kiss was immediate, full of a quiet, unspoken understanding that they had found their way back to each other. Their lips met with certainty, not rushed, but full of deep affection, each touch expressing all the words they didn’t need to say. The kiss was sweet, unhurried, but intense in the way it overflowed with love. Dami felt herself melt into it, her fingers intertwining with Y/N’s as she leaned in, their connection so complete that it felt as though no time had ever passed between them.

Y/N’s lips were soft and warm, and as they kissed, Dami felt the familiar closeness wash over her like a gentle wave, filling every empty space that had once been. The gentle rhythm of their breaths became one, the soft brush of Y/N’s lips against hers grounding her, bringing a peace she hadn’t felt in months. Dami’s hand slid to the back of Y/N’s neck, pulling her just a little closer, their foreheads almost touching as they both deepened the kiss, lost in the love that had carried them through so much.

When they finally parted, it was with a slow, tender retreat, their noses brushing together for just a moment longer as they stayed close, reluctant to let go. Dami’s eyes fluttered open, her heart swelling as she met Y/N’s gaze, the warmth of their kiss still lingering on her lips, a quiet promise that this time, they were truly home.

In a world that didn’t always understand or accept their kind of love, Dami and Y/N had found their way back to each other. Sitting together in the café where their story had once unraveled, their fingers intertwined, and their hearts beating in perfect sync, they knew that the path ahead wouldn’t always be easy. But whatever lay before them, they would face it side by side—stronger, unshaken, and bound by a love that had endured against all odds.

The quiet hum of life buzzed around them, the distant conversations of other customers and the clinking of cups barely registering as they sat, lost in the warmth of each other’s presence. For so long, they had been navigating separate lives, torn apart by the weight of fear and uncertainty. But now, in this moment—hands clasped, hearts full—they were whole again. Their love, once fragile and tentative, was now unbreakable, strengthened by the time and distance that had tested them.

And as Y/N’s thumb gently brushed over Dami’s hand, they shared a look that said everything words couldn’t. They didn’t need to be loud or visible for the world to know what they meant to each other. Their love existed quietly but fiercely, and in finding their way back, they had discovered something far more important: that love, when true and steadfast, could weather any storm.

In that simple, beautiful moment, they realized that they had already won. Not because their love was perfect, but because it had endured. They had fought for it, protected it, and found their way home to each other. And in a world where love like theirs was often questioned or hidden, that was the greatest victory of all.

It didn’t matter what challenges the future held. As long as they had each other, they had everything.

Because in the end, love was their truth. And in that truth, they had found the courage to belong, not just to the world—but to each other.

[guillemelgat]

I just started a new semester, and I'm finally getting the chance to take Malayalam, which I've been trying to do since my undergrad. This is obviously a very exciting development, and it's so delightful to be in a language class again for the first time in ages, but it's also been a very unique experience as far as language classes go. First of all, for me, who is generally used to having very odd personal connections to a language and being the overachieving linguist of the class. And second of all because it's just a very different experience to be in a class largely oriented towards heritage learners and people with some cultural familiarity.

There are five people in the class. Of those five, four have Malayalee family and have had some exposure to Malayalam throughout our lives; the last person is a native speaker of another non-Dravidian South Asian language. Of the four of us who are Malayalee, I'm basically the only one who didn't have a significant amount of Malayalam at home growing up. What this means is that we've spent very little time on the phonetics of the language, because everyone roughly knows how to pronounce it - something which wouldn't be true if there were non-South Asian in the class! (It was a bit comforting to hear all the other Malayalees struggling with aspirated consonants, which have constantly been the bane of my existence, and then to hear the instructor say that few people pronounce them right in spoken Malayalam anyways.) The instructor could ask us to say things on the first day, and the more fluent speakers could say them. There is already Malayalam being mixed in with the instruction. I'm sure by the end of the semester we'll be having extended conversations - especially since the two of us who don't speak have very concrete communicative desires for our outside lives.

It's also a very scary experience for me, personally. Or maybe scary isn't quite the right word, but I've always felt out of my depth in claiming Malayalee heritage - I've always felt that there were so many things which I didn't know which any normal Malayalee would. There is no evidence that this is true, at least insofar as that my cousins with two Malayalee parents have wildly varying experiences and I'm not actually that far outside the norm. In most American spaces, I will never be clocked as white, and most people usually immediately identify me as South Asian. Nonetheless, I know that when I visited Kerala this past December, I was decidedly foreign - to the two guys speaking in rapid-fire Malayalam on the flight from Qatar, to the person at the immigration counter in Trivandrum, even to my own relatives. Part of it is a mental block on my part, of feeling myself foreign and therefore never letting myself belong. Part of it is that I am, ultimately, American. But either way, in this class, I can feel that I'm the American in the room, even when I'm not, even when my pronunciation is just as good as the other Malayalees and there's nothing that's telling me I can't belong. I keep freezing up when asked to say real things, or when people speak to me, because there's some unreachable standard in my brain of Not A Real Malayalee, and everything feels fraught and fragile. So maybe this semester will be about overcoming that.

It's still strange being in a language class where the instructor, on the first day, can look at you all and say, "You know why you're here, you want to be here, we all have a shared experience." But it's also a beautiful thing in its own way, and I'm really looking forward to taking on a language in this way. I love the structure and the logic of language, the puzzle of putting it together, the beauty of making friends in it and watching shows in it and listening to songs in it - but as I get older I find myself really reflecting on what it means to learn and to know a language. And sometimes those barriers to learning and to knowing are only in our minds, not in our worlds. Language is communication and connection, and I hope that Malayalam serves me to these two ends, even as it sometimes feels like a trial by fire at each word.

[nikimisery]

Season 1 Episode 2 - Wendigo

“Well, I'm hot blooded

Check it and see

I got a fever of a hundred and three

Come on baby, do you do more than dance?

I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded”

I found myself humming along to the Foreigner song, while I was reading Twilight. It had come out about a month ago, and I had mentioned to Dean that it sounded like it might be a fun little book to read. Honestly, I’m not fully sure where it came from, but I found it in my bag a few days ago, and it smelled faintly like pine, so there was really only one explanation, but he hadn’t mentioned it, so I wasn’t going to bring it up.

"You know Bella, Jacob?" Lauren asked—in what I imagined was an insolent tone—from across the fire.

"We've sort of known each other since I was born," he laughed, smiling at me again.

"How nice." She didn't sound…”

“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” Dean’s voice sounded out in the silence of the car

“Huh?”

“The book. Is it as good as you thought?”

“Oh, um, its okay. I’m not that far into it. This budding love triangle is going to give me a headache, though.” I responded with a small laugh.

“Love triangle, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re super interested in all of this.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you apologize too much?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at me through the rear view mirror. I didn’t get a chance to respond though, Sam jerked away from another obvious nightmare.

“You okay?” Dean asked, concern lacing his tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Another nightmare? Instead of answering him, Sam just clears his throat and turned away, looking out the window. “You wanna drive for a while?”

Laughing, Sam turned back to Dean “Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that.”

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.”

Sitting up and leaning against the back of the front seat, I stuck my head up between the brothers.

“Ohhhhhhh can I drive?” I asked, trying so hard not to sound too excited about it. Dean just turns his head to stare at me, looking like I just asked him to kill a puppy.

“Not a chance in hell, doll.” Great. A new nickname. Scrunching up my nose to try and cover up the blush rising to my cheeks, I huffed and sat back in the seat again.

“Look, man, you’re worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I’m perfectly okay.”

“Mm-hm.”

“All right, where are we?” Sam asks as he grabbed the map, unfolding it in his lap.

“We are just outside of Grand Junction.”

 I decided to pick up my book again, tuning them out.

"How nice." She didn't sound like she thought it was nice at all, and her pale, fishy eyes narrowed.

"Bella," she called again, watching my face carefully, "I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn't anyone think to invite them?" Her expression of concern was unconvincing.

"You mean Dr. Carlisle Cullen's family?" the tall, older boy asked before I could respond, much to Lauren's irritation. He was really closer to a man than a boy, and his voice was very deep.

"Yes, do you know them?" she asked condescendingly, turning halfway toward him.

"The Cullens don't come here," he said in a tone that closed the subject, ignoring her question.”

             “It’s weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.” Sam says just as I tune back into the conversation.

             “What about it?” Dean asks.

             “There’s nothing there. It’s just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

As she contemplated the question, she looked out the window just in time to see a National Forest sign that said “Welcome to LOST CREEK COLORADO National Forest.” She loved the woods, the smell of the trees, all the sounds of nature. It felt like home to her, like it was where she belonged. They pulled up in front of the Ranger Station, deciding to get out and look around, trying to figure out why John had sent them here. As I stepped out of the car, I looked around, taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. I could feel the tension I didn’t even know I carried, leaving my shoulders, being surrounded by so much nature.

             “You coming, doll?” Breaking out of my daze, I opened my eyes and turned to look at Dean.

             “Yeah, right behind you.” I said with a smile. Entering the building, I could hear Sam up in front of me, start speaking.      

             “So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” He said, pointing to a 3D map of the forest. “It’s cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

             “Freya, come here. Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

             “Jesus Christ, that thing is huge!” I said as Sam walked up behind me to look at the picture of a man standing behind a MUCH larger bear.

             “And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It’s no nature hike, that’s for sure.”

             “Hey, sweetheart. You said you’re really fast, right?” Dean asked me. Nodding at him, I waited for him to continue. “Think you could outrun a bear like that?” He asked with a grin.

             “I don’t need to outrun the bear, honey, I just need to outrun you.” I replied, patting his cheek as I turned to walk back over to the 3D map, Sam snickering to himself behind me.

             “Dude, yes….” Sam said, still laughing at Dean.

             “You kids aren’t planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?” Came a voice from behind us.

             “Oh, no, sir, we’re environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper.” Sam replied, looking up at the ranger with a small laugh.

             “Recycle, man.” Dean said, raising a fist in the air with a grin. This dude… One wonders how he’s so good at lying when he pulls stunts like that…

             “Bull. You’re friends with that Haley girl, right?”

             “Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger Wilkinson.” Dean responded after a second, leaning down to read the Ranger’s nametag.

             “Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?” The Ranger asked Dean, who simply shook his head. “You tell that girl to quit worrying, I’m sure her brother’s just fine.”

             “We will. Well that Haley girl’s quite a pistol, huh?”

             “That’s putting it mildly.”

             “Actually you know what would help, is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother’s return date.” Dean said, raising his eyebrows at the Ranger. Okay, I take back everything I just thought, maybe he is decent at this…

             “Thank you, Ranger Wilkinson.” I said as he handed the permit to Dean, tipped his hat at me and left. Sam was already ahead of us, heading out the door towards the Impala. Just as I went to open the door, Dean’s arm came up in front of me, blocking my exit, as he held the door closed. I could feel the warmth of his body seeping into my back as he leaned down to speak in my ear, his breath tickling my neck, sending shivers down my spine and causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin.

             “That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, now was it, doll? Two can play that game.” He spoke lowly. As quick as he was there, he was gone, holding the door open for me to walk out. I could not be more grateful for November in Colorado, as the temperature helped cool down my heated cheeks. He didn’t say anything else as he followed me out towards the car, looking at the permit as he walked.

             “What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?” Sam asked, stopping at the passenger door.

             “What do you mean?” Dean responded, looking a little confused by Sam’s question. I watched silently, looking between the brothers. The thought of Dean ‘hooking up’ with this Haley chick didn’t settle in my chest right, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it.

             “The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let’s just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?”

             “I don’t know, maybe we should know what we’re walking into before we actually walk into it?” Dean responded, sounding a little irritated with his brother. Pausing, they just stared at each other for a minute.

             “What?”

             “Since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later, anyway?” Dean asked.

             “Since now.” Turning away, Sam got in the car without another word. I looked up at Dean, a worried look in my eye, but he just shook his head and opened my door for me, closing it as soon as I was settled.

             “Really?” He says to Sam, getting in the driver’s seat, starting the car and driving off. 

We had just pulled up to the Collins house when Dean opened the glove box and grabbed out a couple of the fake badges.

             “You’ll have to remind me to make you some of these, doll, but for now, just let us do the talking, yeah?” He said to me, getting out of the car and opening my door for me.

             “Thank you.” I said, smiling shyly at him, head down. I heard him chuckle to himself as he shut the door behind me. Waiting for them to take the lead, I looked down the street. I lived in a place similar to this, a foster house. Memories of cigarettes being put out across my back playing behind my eyes.

             “Freya.” Dean’s voice pulled me out of the memories, his hand on my shoulder blade. “You okay? We’ve been saying your name.” I hated the worry in his eye.

             “Hm? Yeah. Good. I’m sorry.” I said, looking down again. Deciding I was done with this conversation, I started walking up to the house, letting Dean take point and knock on the door. A woman about my height, short brown hair opened the door.

             “You must be Haley Collins. I’m Dean, this is Sam and Freya. We’re, ah, we’re rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.” Dean says to her. I had to applaud him, he can be quick on his feet when he needs to be, but I could still see her hesitation.

             “Lemme see some ID.” Dean pulls out the same fake I saw him taking out of the glove box in the car. I really hope she doesn’t notice it says Samuel Cole on it, instead of Dean…. Looking back in forth between the ID and Deans smile, she finally opened the door. “Come on in.”

             “Thanks.” He said with another smile.

             “That yours?” Haley asked him, nodding at the impala parked on the street.

             “Yeah.”

             “Nice car.” She said as she turned away and led us further into the house. Dean turned around and looked at Sam, mouthing something I didn’t catch, but I can only imagine. Rolling my eyes, I push past Dean to follow Haley into her kitchen.

             “So, if Tommy’s not due back for a while, how do you know something’s wrong?” Sam asked her, as he stepped into the kitchen behind me. Walking back towards us with a bowl in her hand, she sets it down on the table before turning to face Sam.

             “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos – we haven’t heard anything in over three days now.”

             “Well, maybe he can’t get cell reception? “ I suggested to her. Out in a forest like this, it would make sense.

             “He’s got a satellite phone, too.” Well there goes that theory.

             “Could it be he’s just having fun and forgot to check in?” Comes Dean.

             “He wouldn’t do that.” Haley’s little brother snaps at him. They just stared at each other for a second, before the younger boy looks away. Haley breaking the tension, leaned over him, adding more food to the table.

             “Our parents are gone. It’s just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.” She said.

             “Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked her.

             “Yeah.” Opening up her laptop, she pulled up the pictures for us to see. Sam sat down and started going through them, checking for anything that might help us. “That’s Tommy.” She points to a picture, double clicking on one of the files, pulling up a video for us to watch.

             “Hey Haley, day six, we’re still out near Blackwater Ridge. We’re fine, keeping safe, so don’t worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.” As the video ends, something caught my eye in the top corner, but instead of saying something out loud, I tapped Sam’s arm twice. My only indication that he understood was the small nod he sent me.

             “Well, we’ll find your brother. We’re heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing.” Dean said to Haley.

             “Then maybe I’ll see you there. Look, I can’t sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I’m heading out in the morning, and I’m gonna find Tommy myself.”

             “I think I know how you feel.” Dean spoke to her, but his eyes were on Sam and I.

             “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?” Sam asked.

             “Sure.”

             “Thank you for your time.” I told her as we made our way back outside. As soon as the front door closed, Dean turned to Sam and I.

             “You two want to clue me into that secret little conversation back there?”

             “Let’s go find something to eat, and we will show you.” Sam replied. 

The boys found a table in a quiet corner of the bar we had just entered, sitting down so we could discuss what we were walking into tomorrow morning. There was a game of pool going over by the windows that looked like it had just gotten started.

             “So, Blackwater Ridge doesn’t get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.” Sam started, opening Johns journal on the table in front of us.

             “Any before that?” Dean asked as I pulled a couple of news articles out of my jacket pocket that I had found earlier.

             “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.” I told him, turning the articles to face him, Sam pulling out his laptop.

             “And again in 1959, and again before that in 1936. Every 23 years, just like clockwork.” Sam states as he loads up Tommy’s video. “Okay. Watch this. Here’s the clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy’s video to the laptop. Check this out.” He said as he clicked the mouse, playing the video.

             “This is what we noticed back at the Collins house.” I state to Dean.

             “Play it again.” He requests. Sam pulled the video clip back, repeating the shadow.

             “That’s three frames. That’s a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

             “Okay, I might not be able to out run that one…” I joke to the boys, Sam smiled at me and Dean just shook his head at me before hitting Sam on the shoulder.

             “Told you something weird was going on.”

             “Yeah. I got one more thing.” Sam said as he handed over another newspaper article. I hadn’t seen that one, so I leaned closer to see it. “In 59, one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

             “Is there a name?”

Smiling at him, Sam just stood up and packed up his laptop and the newspaper articles before walking out the door.

             “Seems so?” I said to Dean before grabbing my jacket and following after his brother. I didn’t get very far though, before I was stopped by a hand on my elbow.

             “Where you going, sugar? It’s still early!” Said the mouth attached to the hand on me.

             “Umm, my friends and I are just leaving for the night.” I said. I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. People didn’t normally seek out my company.

             “Aww come on. Stay a while, play some pool with us.” He said. His breath hitting my face, it smelled like stale beer and cigarettes.

             “I think I’m good.” I responded, leaning away from him. I tried to take my elbow back, but he was determined he wanted to hold on to me and I didn’t want to hurt him. “Please let me go.”

             “No, I don’t think I will.” I was starting to panic a little bit when the smell of pine trees settled over me. Dean was here.

             “I think the lady asked you to let her go.” He said. His voice was low, threatening even, but it didn’t seem to phase the biker who had a hold of me.

             “And just who do you think you are, pretty boy?” Well, I couldn’t argue with that. He was a pretty boy.

             “A friend.” Was his only response, his hand coming to settle on my lower back. I was feeling a little more brave, now that Dean was there.

             “Do you like your hand?” I asked the guy.

             “Huh?”

             “Do you like your hand?” I asked again, motioning to the offending object.

             “What kind of question is that?” He was looking at me like I was stupid, but before I could respond to him, Dean stepped in again.

             "If you want to keep it, I suggest getting it off my girl.” His girl? Fuck me…. Dean had moved around in front of me now, his other hand coming up to grip the guys wrist. With his jaw clenched and his dark emerald eyes focused on this guy, he almost looked like an avenging angel. I should not be feeling this type of way, but damn it if it wasn’t the hottest thing I had ever seen.

             “Jesus, man.” The guy said as he finally let go of me. “She ain’t worth it.” He threw out as he turned his back and went back to his buddies. Dean stood still, watching him go for a few seconds before finally turning to me, his gaze softening, but the tension not leaving his body.

             “You good?”

             “Yeah. I didn’t want to hurt him. I’m sorry…” I trailed off. His hand came up to my chin, lifting my head to look at him.

             “Stop apologizing so much.” He said as gripped my shoulders and turned me around, steering me out of the bar and towards the car.

             “What took you guys so long, It’s cold out here?” Sam asked as soon as we were in eye sight.

             “She had to go to the bathroom. Didn’t want to leave her in there by herself.” Dean said to Sam as he, once again, opened my door for me. Stepping up to get into the car, I set my hand on his forearm.

             “Thank you.” 

Mr. Shaw was lighting a cigarette when he let the three of us into his house. I hated the smell, but I wasn’t about to tell this guy he couldn’t smoke in his own home.

             “Look, ranger, I don’t know why you’re asking me about this. It’s public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a –“

             “Grizzly? That’s what attacked them?” Sam interrupted him. Puffing on his cigarette, Mr. Shaw just nods.

             “The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean asked, but Mr. Shaw didn’t answer. “We knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

             “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don’t see what difference it would make.” Mr. Shaw paused in his words to sit down. “You wouldn’t believe me. Nobody ever did.” The way he said that, the utter defeat in his voice, pulled at my chest, so sitting down across from him, I reached out to him, grabbed his hand and spoke.

             “Mr. Shaw. Can you look at me?” I asked him. The boys were behind me, so I knew they wouldn’t see what I was going to do. Mr. Shaw finally looked up at me, meeting my eyes. I decided to show a little bit of myself to him, maybe he would see that he wasn’t alone, so I let my eyes glow. I saw the way his eyes widened, heard the way his breath caught in his throat, but instead of pulling away, he tightened his grip on my hands, tears in his eyes. “What did you see?” I asked softly.

             “Nothing… it moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like… no man or animal I ever heard.” He was looking directly into my eyes as he spoke.

             “It came at night?” Sam asked. Mr. Shaw nodded at him, but still wouldn’t look away from me. “Got inside your tent?” At that, he looked away and focused his gaze on Sam.

             “It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn’t smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn’t even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” He was looking into my eyes again by the end.

             “It killed them?” Sam asked.

             “Dragged them off into the night.” He said, shaking his head before he spoke again. “Why it left me alive… been asking myself that ever since.” He paused his words and took a deep breath. One of his hands let go of mine to reach for the collar of his shirt. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled his collar down at that, revealing three long scars. Claw marks. Reaching up one of my hands, I let my fingers trace the scars. When I touched them, it was like I could feel the pain the claws inflicted. “There’s something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.” He looked at me again.

             “Thank you, Mr. Shaw.” Sam said, the boys rising to leave. Standing up to leave behind them, Mr. Shaw caught my hand in his again.

             “Thank you.” He said to me. “No one has ever listened to me before.” With a small smile and a nod of my head, I followed the boys out to the car.  

Dean had found us a motel for the night and we had just left from checking out the room, walking back to the car to get our bags.

             “Spirits and demons don’t have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls.” Dean stated.

             “So it’s probably something else, something corporeal.”

             “Corporeal? Excuse me, professor.” Dean retorted, making me giggle a little.

Hearing me, he shot a smirk over his shoulder at me.

             “The claws, the speed that it moves… could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we’re talking about, we’re talking about a creature, and it’s corporeal. Which means we can kill it.” Dean finished, opening the door so we could all walk outside. I went to the backseat, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder, while Dean opened the trunk, propping open the weapons compartment with a shotgun, Sam and I joining him.

             “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.” Sam said as he grabbed a couple of things to put in the duffle Dean was packing.

             “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can’t go into the woods because of a big scary monster?” Man, the sarcasm is strong with this one, but even I couldn’t deny he had a point.

             “Yeah.” Sam replied. Dean and I shared a look before we both looked over at Sam.

             “Her brother’s missing, Sam. She’s not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.” He said as he picked up the duffel bag.

             “Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam asked as he slammed the weapons box and the trunk shut. “Now we gotta babysit too?” When Dean didn’t answer him, I could tell it upset him. “What.”

             “Nothing.” He threw the duffel bag at Sam as he turned away, placing his hand on my back and guiding us away from Sam. He trudged past us with the duffel bag and into the motel without a word. I almost felt bad for him, but I didn’t understand why he was being so harsh about all of this.

             “Hey, Freya?” Dean called out to me, putting a hand on my elbow to pull me to a stop.

             “What’s up?”

             “Can I ask you something?”

             “You just did.” I said with a cheeky grin.

             “Smartass.” He said with a smile before his face got serious again.

             “What happened back at Shaw’s house? How did you get him to talk?” I debated his question for a second. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I was afraid he would be mad at me if he knew.

             “Promise you won’t be mad?”

             “I promise.” Instead of vocalizing what I did, I lowered my head again and closed my eyes. I had never shown him my eyes. I’m not going to lie, I was really anxious about how he was going to react, but I had also decided that I didn’t want to lie to him, it didn’t feel right to me. So I took a deep breath, raised my head and opened my eyes. I heard his breath catch in his throat, but he didn’t back away. If anything, it felt like he was closer to me than he was before.

             “I just showed him he wasn’t alone.”

             “Do you know what color your eyes glow?” His question caught me off guard, but I answered none the less.

             “I’ve never seen them before.”

             “Purple. Dark purple. It’s beautiful.” He responded. He grabbed my elbow again and dragged me over to the impala where he could show me in the mirror. “Look.”

             I stared at my reflection for a moment, almost not recognizing the girl looking back. Long, dark red hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun, pale white skin. But the purple eyes glowing back at me were almost ethereal. I heard a gasp and it took a second to realize it was me who made that noise. Looking back up at Dean, I smiled at him. He just shrugged and walked away, opening the motel door and waiting for me to catch up.

  As I laid down on the couch, trying to sleep, my mind strayed to the green eyed hunter laying in the bed not too far from me. How much things had changed between us in the few weeks I had been with them. I knew he didn’t fully trust me, and I still didn’t fully trust him, or Sam for that matter, but I couldn’t deny that I felt drawn to him in a way I have never felt before. I found myself thinking about how he would react to something before I did it. Found myself searching him out whenever I knew he was close, looking to him for his reactions. The way he stood up for me at the bar earlier tonight, no one has ever done something like that before. It was confusing to me, my need to be near him. Every time he touched me, his hand on my arm, or on my back, made my heart race so much I thought it would beat out of my chest. It was like I could breathe better when I knew he was near. And when Haley’s little brother snapped at him at their house, I had to hold back a growl. I needed to figure this out. I’ve seen the girls that Dean looked at, tall, pretty, thin…. I was nothing like them, and a mysterious monster on top of that. I wasn’t in his orbit, so I needed to get him out of my head. Sleep finally found me, slowly pulling me out of the torturous spiral my thoughts had put me in. 

When we pulled up to the trailhead and parked the car, Sam got out to gather our bags and Dean turned around, his arm on the back of the seat for leverage as he spoke to me. 

“While we are out there, stay close to me, yeah?” He said to me, “Or Sam, you know, one of us.” The tips of his ears were a little red, when he finished his sentence, but I didn’t call him out on it. 

“Yeah, okay.” I replied to him. He just nodded as he got out of the car, opening my door for me as well. 

“You got room for three more?” Dean called out to Haley.

“Wait, you want to come with us?” Haley answered.

“Who are these guys?” The guide Haley hired asked her. 

“Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.” 

“You’re rangers?” The guide asked

“That’s right.” Dean answered as Sam walked past us all, handing me my backpack with a nod. 

“And you’re hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley asked Dean, looking him up and down. Not going to lie, I’m not really liking that too much, but I didn’t say anything. 

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.” He said to her. Sweetheart. He called her sweetheart. While sarcasm was littering his tone, he still called her sweetheart. My chest hurt when I heard it. Fuck I needed to get this under control and quick. Dean glanced at me as he walked past me towards where Sam went. Apparently I didn’t hide the look on my face well enough, because his eyes softened when he looked at me, his hand brushing across my back as he moved past me. 

“What, you think this is funny? It’s dangerous back country. Her brother might be hurt.” the guide says. 

“Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be. We just want to help them find their brother, that’s all.” Dean responds, walking past everyone and heading into the woods. I promised him I would stay close to him, so I follow after him, jogging a bit to catch up. The guide, who’s name I found out is Roy, took the lead, then Dean, myself, Haley and Ben came next, with Sam bringing up the rear. 

“Roy, you said you did a little hunting?” Dean said, trying to make conversation. 

“Yeah, more than a little.” 

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?” 

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” Roy replied as Dean passed him. 

“Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?” He stopped abruptly by Roy grabbing him. I really did not like that move and I couldn’t help the growl that left my throat at that. Sam came up behind me placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“Breathe,” he said. 

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean asked him. Watching him grab a stick, he pokes the bear trap Dean had almost just stepped in. 

“It’s a bear trap.” Dean said, looking a little sheepish. Roy dropped the stick at that, walked around Dean and resumed the lead. Dean stopped me as I went to walk by him. “You good?” He asked me. 

“Fine.”

“You can’t just go growling at everyone when they do something you don’t like. You gotta keep that in check, doll.” 

“I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out when he grabbed you. I’m sorry…” I trailed off. He didn’t say anything, but his hand slipped up my arm and cupped the back of my head for a moment, before he dropped his hand and motioned for me to catch up with Sam. I had just reached him when I heard Haley talking to Dean. 

“You didn’t pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You’re not rangers.” She said to him as she grabbed his arm. Another small growl escaped me, but Dean just nodded to me, letting me know he was okay before he turned towards her. “So who the hell are you?” Ben walked by them just as Sam and I reached where they were standing, Dean nodding for us to go on ahead, a soft smile in my direction as he shook her hand off his arm. Stupid me and my stupid heart couldn’t help but let out a breath at that action. 

“Sam and I are brothers, Freya’s with me… with us, and we’re looking for our father. He might be here, we don’t know. I just figured that you and me, we’re in the same boat.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me that from the start?” 

“I’m telling you now. ‘Sides, it’s probably the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman. …ever.” He said before his eyes slid to me. “Well, almost ever.” He said before focusing back on Haley. “So we okay?” There was a pregnant pause that seemed to last forever. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“And what do you mean I didn’t pack provisions?” He asked her as he pulled a bag of peanut M&M’s out of his pocket, sticking his hand in the bag and pulling out a handful as he walked past her. Peanut M&M’s. Wait a minute. 

“Wait a minute. Dean, those are mine! Where did you get those?” I yell as I run after him. “Hey, dipshit, give them back!” He laughed at me, holding them up out of my reach when I tried to get them from him. “Dean, come on. You think it’s smart to keep me from my chocolate?” Sam is laughing at us now as well. 

“Sorry, dollface!” He laughed again as I jumped, trying to reach the bag, but Sam, ever my hero, came up behind him and grabbed the bag, putting it in my hand before ruffling my hair and walking off to catch up with everyone. “Dammit, Sam!” Dean yelled at him, trying to get the bag back from me, but I just stuck my tongue out at him and stayed just out of his reach, laughing as I ran away hiding behind Sam. Dean just threw his hands up in surrender and walked off, following everyone. 

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge.” Roy spoke up.

“What coordinates are we at?” Sam asked

“Thirty-Five and minus one-eleven.” Roy said. Looking at his GPS. Walking past him, I bumped Dean’s shoulder. When he looked at me, I motioned to my ears. He nodded, walking up to Sam. 

“You hear that?” He asked Sam. 

“Yeah. Not even crickets.” 

“I can’t even hear the insects, guys. I stopped being able to hear nature maybe 8-10 minutes ago.” I told both of them, looking around. It will be dark soon.

“I’m gonna go take a look around.” Roy said. 

“You shouldn’t go off by yourself.” Sam told him, still looking around at the trees around us. 

“‘That’s sweet. Don’t worry about me.” Roy replied as he waved his gun, pushing me aside as he made his way between the boys. 

“Can I hit him?” I asked the boys. 

“Only if I can.” Dean responded, glaring after Roy. Sighing, he continued, “All right, everybody stays together. Let’s go.” Motioning everyone to follow after Roy, his hand coming to rest on my lower back, guiding me to follow his brother. 

“Haley! Over here!” Roy shouted. Haley immediately took off towards his voice, the rest of us trailing behind. 

“Oh my god.” Haley breathed out. The tents that surrounded the campsite were torn open and bloody. Supplies scattered all around. The smell of blood was almost overwhelming, but there was something else, underlying, that I could smell. It almost smelled like damp earth. Dark, hidden, damp earth. Walking up to Dean, I put my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. 

“The smells. Blood is prominent, but there is something else I don’t understand.” “What is it?” 

“Before I met your dad, sometimes I would hunker down in people’s basements or under bridges. They always smelt the same. Dark, damp dirt. Wet earth.” I told him, scrunching my eyebrows in confusion. Before he could respond, Haley’s shouting cut him off. 

“Tommy?” She yelled out, taking her backpack off, throwing it on the ground. “Tommy!”

“Shhh.” Sam told her, catching up with her. 

“Tommy!” She ignored him, shouting again. 

“Shh-hh-hh!” 

“Why?” She asked him. 

“Something might still be out there.” He responded.

“I don’t like this, Dean.” I told him, walking away from him to the edge of the trees. I could feel him following closely behind me, he stopped me with a hand on my elbow, pointing down to the ground. Drag marks. Crouching down, we inspected them.

“Sam!” he yelled out to his brother. The smell of coffee was extremely comforting, compared to the overwhelming blood stuck in my nostrils as Sam drew near to us. Crouching down next to us, he looked at the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That’s weird.” He said quietly. Standing up, he continued, “I’ll tell you what, that’s no skinwalker or black dog.” Walking back towards the camp, I noticed Haley had found a cell phone covered in blood. She turned the phone over, looking at the back of it when Dean crouched down next to her. “Hey, he could still be alive.” But instead of answering him, she just gave him a look. 

“Help! Help!” 

Roy took off running in the direction of the voice, everyone following behind him. I could have sworn I heard something moving in the trees off to my left, but when I looked, I didn’t see anything. 

“Help! Somebody!” 

“Dean, there isn’t anyone else here.” I told him, pointing to my nose. 

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn’t it?” Haley asked us. Sam noticed the exchange between Dean and I so he turned to me. 

“You’re sure?” He asked me. Nodding, I looked around, trying to see if I could notice anything. “Everybody back to camp.” Sam said, herding the rest of us back to the campsite. “Our packs!” Haley let out. I still had my backpack on, but everyone had dropped their bags. Which meant our weapons were gone too. 

“So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.” Roy complained. 

“What is going on?” Haley asked.

“Don’t suppose you have anything useful in that bag, would you, doll?” Dean asked, leaning in close, so he could speak in my ear. 

“Define useful.” I whispered back. 

“All I have is this.” He said as he lifted up his colt. 

“I’ve got a hunting knife, but Dean. I’ve always kind of been the weapon. Never really needed to carry one?” Grumbling to himself, he looked down at me. 

“Could have just said no…” 

“It’s smart. It wants to cut us off so we can’t call for help.” Sam interrupted our quiet conversation. 

“You mean someone, some nut job out there just stole all our gear.” Roy shot back. Can I just say, Sam has an epic bitch face. Like. It’s epic. Especially when it’s directed at Roy. Sam holds his look for a second before coming over to Dean and I. 

“I need to speak with you. In private.” Dean’s hand finds a home on my lower back again as we walk away out of earshot of the rest of the group. “Good. Let me see Dad’s journal.” As soon as it’s in his hands, he’s searching for one particular page. When he found it, he turned it around, pointing it out to Dean and I. “All right, check that out.” He said, pointing to a First Nations - style drawing of a figure. 

“Oh come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I’ve never even heard of one this far west.” 

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice.” Sam said. 

“The smell makes sense.” I told him. 

“Smell?” Sam asked

“Earlier, she told me she smelled damp dirt and couldn’t figure it out.” Dean answered for me. “Great. Well then this is useless.” He said lifting up his Colt again. I couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at that one. “Shut it, sunshine,” he glared at me, but there was no heat in his eyes. He almost looked amused. Especially when my cheeks heated up again. Damn him and his ability to make me blush. A small smile briefly graced Sam’s face before he handed John’s journal back to Dean. 

“We gotta get these people to safety.” He said, turning back around and heading back to the camp. “All right, listen up, it’s time to go. Things have gotten… more complicated.” Sam addressed the rest of the group. 

“What?” Haley asked.

“Kid, don’t worry. Whatever’s out there, I think I can handle it.” Roy snarked. 

“It’s not me I’m worried about. If you shoot this thing, you’re just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now.” Came Sam’s response. 

“One, you’re talking nonsense. Two, you’re in no position to give anybody orders. 

“Relax.” Dean tried to de-escalate the two, but it didn’t work.

“We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I’m trying to protect you.” Sam popped back. Roy stepped into Sam’s space, getting right up in his face. This time, I stepped between the two of them, my hand on Sam’s chest, trying to get him to calm down.  

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” Roy said. Sam was pushing against my hand again, but he wasn’t moving me. 

“Yeah? It’s a damn near perfect hunter. It’s smarter than you, and it’s gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.” 

“You know you’re crazy, right?” Roy laughs at him, but when he tried to push me out of the way, that’s when Dean decided to jump in. 

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen-” Dean jumped in between Roy and I, pushing Sam back. 

“Roy!” Haley shouted. 

“Chill out.” Dean said to Sam. Once he was satisfied he wasn’t going to do something stupid, he turned to me. My eyes hadn’t left Roy since he tried to put hands on me, but Dean’s gentle hand on my elbow brought me out of my murderous thoughts. 

“Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I’m not leaving here without him.” Haley spoke up. The three of us shared a look, nodding in acceptance. 

“It’s getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We’ll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.” Dean said

“How?” Haley asked. 

“I may be able to help with that.” I said, pulling my backpack off, digging my mom’s journal out. 

Haley and Ben were sitting around the campfire and Dean, Sam and I were drawing. 

“One more time, that’s -” 

“Anasazi symbols. It’s for protection. The wendigo can’t cross over them.” Dean answered her. Roy laughed at us, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy.” Nudging me to follow him, he headed over to sit next to Sam at the edge of the campsite. “You wanna tell us what’s going on in that freaky head of yours?”

“Dean -” Sam started. 

“No, you’re not fine. You’re like a powder keg, man, it’s not like you. I’m supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?” 

“Dad’s not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right?” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Tell you the truth, I don’t think Dad’s ever been to Lost Creek.” Dean said with a sigh. 

“Then let’s get these people back to town and let’s hit the road. Go find dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” 

“This is why.” Dean responded by pulling out John’s journal and holding it up. “This book. This is dad’s single most valuable possession - everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he’s passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.” Shaking his head, Sam looks up at Dean. 

“That makes no sense. Why doesn’t he just - call us? Why doesn’t he - tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?” 

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad’s giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.” 

“Dean… no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica’s killer. It’s the only thing I can think about.” 

“Okay, all right, Sam, we’ll find him, I promise. Listen to me. You’ve gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can’t keep it burning over the long haul. It’s gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.” Looking down at the ground, Sam gathered his thoughts before looking back up. 

“How do you do it? How does Dad do it?” he asked Dean. Glancing over at the siblings over by the fire, he focuses his attention back on his own brother. 

“Well for one, them.” He nods back at the campfire. “I mean, I figure our family’s so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Make things a little bit more bearable.” Grinning over at me before turning back to Sam, he continues. “I’ll tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.” That pulls a smile to Sam’s face. 

“Help me! Please!” 

Standing up, Dean pulls out his Colt, his hand resting on my elbow. 

“Help!”

Sam was shining his flashlight about, but we still couldn’t see the wendigo.

“He’s trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put.” Dean told everyone. 

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy snarked 

“Help! Help me!” It trailed off, growling

“Okay, that’s no grizzly.” Roy finally admitted, pointing his gun out to the dark. Haley had her arm around her brother, trying to comfort him. But as something rushes past, she shrieked. 

“It’s here.” Sam said. 

“Freya, you got anything?” Dean calls back to me, never taking his eyes off the trees. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on my hearing. 

“Left.” A gunshot rang out as soon as the word left my mouth. 

“I hit it!” Roy shouts, taking off running off towards the direction he shot.

“Roy, no! Roy!” Dean yelled after him. Turning to Haley and Ben, he shouts at them. “Don’t move.” I had already taken off after Roy, catching up to him just as the Wendigo grabbed him by the neck. Diving for him, I grabbed his legs, getting pulled up with him, but the Wendigo knocked me off of Roy, flinging me back into another tree across the clearing. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked me as he helped me stand up.

“Peachy. I think the bitch broke my leg.” I told him as I leaned against him. “I tried to stop it. I tried to hold onto him. I wasn’t fast enough.” 

“You got a pretty nasty bruise, doll.” He said, thumbing at my cheek where the wendigo hit me. 

“I’m okay. I’ll heal. Can you help me back to camp?” He nodded at me, putting his arm around my waist to hold my weight better. “Did you find anything, Sam?” I asked him as he came back over to us. 

“He’s gone.” 

“Let's get back.” I told them. When we got back to camp, Dean explained to Haley and Ben how we lost Roy and couldn’t find him, helping me sit down on a log by the fire. 

“We’re safe for now. Try and get some sleep.” Dean says to me as he sits down next to me, keeping his arm around me. 

“Yeah, okay.” I responded, laying my head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t… I mean, these types of things, they aren’t supposed to be real.” I heard Haley say as I stirred. Waking up, I realized I was on the ground, my head in Dean’s lap, leaning up against the same log he helped me sit on last night. 

“I wish I could tell you different.” Dean responded as he helped me sit up. “How are you feeling?” He turned to me. I just nodded to him, smiling to reassure him I was good. 

“How do we know it’s not out there watching us?” She asked him

“We don’t. But we’re safe for now.” 

“How do you know about this stuff?” I glanced up at Dean, seeing him trying to decide how to answer it. 

“Kind of runs in the family.”  He responded. Sam walked over to us at that point, everyone standing up to join him. 

“You’re leg?” Haley asked me. “Wasn’t it broken last night?” 

“Probably shattered.” I responded, walking over to Sam who was holding my backpack out to me. 

“But you’re walking on it?” She sounded so confused. 

“Told you she was special.” Dean joked with her, smirking over at me. Fucking blushing and this stupid fucking dumb pretty boy. 

“Hey.” Sam interrupted. “So we’ve got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.” 

“Well, hell, you know I’m in.” Dean smirks. Sam pulls out John’s journal, showing the page about the wendigo to Haley and Ben. 

“Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means ‘evil that devours’.” Sam explained. 

“They’re hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.” Dean continued. 

“How’s a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked. I was moving around the campsite, trying to find the lighter fluid I knew I had seen yesterday. Dean had found a couple of empty bottles, but was still looking around for the rest of what we needed. 

“Well, it’s always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.” Dean filled in. 

“Like the Donner party.” Ben asked. I threw him a thumbs up, chuckling to myself at the comparison. Dean just smirked at me, shaking his head. 

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality.” Sam said. 

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You’re always hungry.” Dean took his turn. 

“So if it’s true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley asked the brothers. 

“You’re not gonna like it.” I answered for them. The brothers glanced at each other before turning back to Haley.

“Tell me.” 

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.” Dean answered her.

“And then how do we stop it?”

“Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically -” pointing over to where I was raising the lighter fluid up, then holding up the beer bottles and white cloth he had picked up. “We gotta torch the sucker.” 

Dean and I were leading the way through the woods, Molotov cocktails in hand. Haley was behind us, followed by Ben, then Sam. I noticed the smell of wet earth was getting stronger, but I couldn’t make out where it was coming from. 

Sam had passed us at some point, taking the lead. 

“Guys.” Sam started. 

“What is it?” Dean asked him when we caught up with him. Pointing at the claw marks, Sam spoke.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow.” I heard the rustle over to the left and my head snapped in that direction, Dean following my line of sight. The growling came from behind us, trees rustling all around us. Haley noticed the blood dripping on her jacket and looked up just in time to leap out of the way as Roy’s corpse landed right where she was just standing. Dean made his way over to Roy, examining him as Sam went to help Haley up. 

“You okay? You got it?” He asked her.

“His neck’s broken.” Dean said to me. The growling cut him off from saying anything else to me. “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!” He yelled, grabbing me and pulling me up behind him. Ben tripped, but Sam hurried back to help him up. I lost sight of him after that, but hearing Haley scream made me turn back around. The last thing I remember was the Wendigo hands on either side of my head before a searing pain shot through my whole body. I heard Dean yelling my name, but it all went black. 

Pain. That’s all I felt. My entire body felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside out. I could hear Haley yelling to cut him down, but it’s like I was underwater. Groaning, I tried to open my eyes, but they just weren’t working. 

“Freya? Holy shit, Freya!” I felt his hands on my face as the familiar scent of pine trees blanketed me. “Come on, doll, open your eyes for me. Fuck, come on. You can do it.” 

“Dean?” I called out. My throat hurt, like I hadn’t had anything to drink in years. 

“That’s right, sweet girl. Come on, open your eyes for me.” After what felt like forever, I was able to get them to open up a little. It was dark, underground somewhere, that much I could tell. “Let’s get you up. Come on, you can do it.” Dean encouraged me as he and Sam helped me stand up, one on each side of me. 

“My whole body hurts.” I mumbled out as I leaned heavily on Dean. 

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah? Then we can patch you up. We found Tommy, the Wendigo is out. I found a couple of flare guns, so that will have to do. You with me?” He asked me.

“Let’s do it.” I tried to smile at him, but it came out as more of a grimace. We were almost to the exit when I heard it. The wendigo was back, growling through the halls. 

“Looks like someone’s home for supper.” I told Dean. 

“We’ll never outrun it.” Haley countered. The brothers paused, looking at each other. 

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean pipped up.

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam answered him. 

“All right, listen to me.” Dean started, turning to the Collins siblings. “Stay with Sam. He’s gonna get you out of here.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked him, but he simply grabbed my hand and winked, walking away and pulling me with him. 

“Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that’s right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.” Dean yelled out, trying to get the wendigo’s attention. Of course my brain decided that was the perfect time to jump in. Yeah, I bet you do, pretty boy… “Can you hear him?” He asked me. 

“He’s close.” I told him. “I can hear him shuffling. Follow me.” I told him as we wound through a few different tunnels, finally coming up on the back side of the wendigo. He had cornered Sam and the Collins. 

“Hey!” Dean yelled out at him, causing him to turn around. He shot at him, hitting him straight in the stomach, lighting him up in flames. “Not bad, huh?” He says with a smirk, looking between Sam and I. I just shook my head as Sam grinned at him. 

I was leaning against the Impala, watching everything around me. I could hear Ben talking to the officer about the ‘huge 800-900 lb grizzly’ we faced, as Sam walked over to me, leaning next to me. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“Tired, but yeah. I’m okay.” I said, turning to look up at him. “Are you?” 

“I’ll get back to you on that.” He responded just as Dean and Haley made their way over to us. Sam had made his way over to the ambulance, it was his turn to get checked out.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” She tells Dean and I, but Dean just grins at me, causing Haley to smile, despite everything. 

“Must you cheapen the moment?” She chuckles. 

“Yeah.” Dean chuckles right back, just as a paramedic walked up, catching Haley’s attention. 

“You riding with your brother?” 

“Yeah.” Turning to Ben, she says, “Let’s go.” Turning back to us, she kissed Dean on the cheek before turning around, following the paramedic. “I hope you find your father.” she called back over her shoulder. “Thanks, Sam. Freya.” She said with a smile, climbing into the back of the ambulance with her brothers.

Both brothers came and sat on either side of me, watching the ambulance close up. 

“Man, I hate camping.” Dean groaned. 

“Me too.” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was so bad.” I jumped in. 

As the ambulance drives away, Dean leans up, looking across me to Sam.

“Sam, you know we’re gonna find dad, right?” 

“Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I’m driving.” Dean tossed the keys to Sam before turning to me. 

“Freya, do you remember what happened out there?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When the wendigo caught us. Do you remember anything?” Dean pressed. 

“I remember seeing him, he grabbed my face. But then I guess he must have knocked me out.” I turned my head to see Sam shaking his head. 

“He didn’t knock you out, Freya.” Sam said. 

“What do you mean? I blacked out.” I told him. 

“Freya, you didn’t have a heartbeat. I checked. I heard the snap.” Dean started, turning away from me to take a deep breath. “Doll, he broke your neck.” It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I leaned back against the car again to get my bearings. 

“There’s no way. I mean, it would have killed me, right?” I said quietly. 

“That’s the thing, Freya. It did kill you. You were dead.” Sam said. 

“That doesn’t make sense.” The world was starting to spin at this point. I died? I was trying to catch my breath, but it was coming out in short spurts. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Freya, sweetheart, look at me.” Dean said, taking hold of my face, making me look at him. “Breathe. In and out, come on. Breathe with me.” He started taking deep breaths, putting one of my hands on his chest so I could feel his breathing. I could feel myself starting to even out. “Good girl.” He said, still making me breathe with him. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m sorry.” I mumbled. 

“What did I say about apologizing?” He asked me. I chuckled a bit, but I leaned down, my forehead against his chest for a second. 

“Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me. Get in the car. Let’s find somewhere to get some sleep, yeah?” He said to me, walking me around the car to the backseat. Once I was settled, he climbed into the passenger seat, Sam in the driver’s seat. 

“One of these days, you’re gonna let me drive, Winchester.” I said, sleep already trying to claim me. 

“Don’t bet on it, sweetheart. Don’t bet on it.” 

“Why try, I know why

The feeling inside me says it’s time I was gone

Clear head, new life ahead

I want to be king now not just one more pawn

Fly by night away from here

Change my life again

Fly by night goodbye my dear

My ship isn’t coming and I just can’t pretend”

The sound of the engine and the music was slowly pulling me under, but what really helped me rest was realizing that when Dean called me sweetheart, this time, the way he said it was so different than how he said it to Haley a few days ago. That petty side of my brain kept thinking ‘Ha, take that! That’s what you get!’ but the logical side of my brain kept telling me that he talks to everyone like that. He’s a natural flirt. It doesn’t mean anything. But that didn’t change the warmth settling in my chest as I drifted off to sleep. Shit….. I was fucked…. 

[tiffany-chan123]

Tiffany's Fancuries For Your Consideration

Hey there folks! This is actually the fourth Fancuries that I'll be participating in, and my second "For Your Consideration" post that I've made during my time as not just a pretty cure fanseries creator but as a pretty cure fan.

Over the past couple of years, my cures and by extension fanseries tend to change a LOT, I have been trying to experiment with Kisekae and my drawn art more and I am planning on getting back into writing fanfiction and my fanseries (In fact I'm currently writing episode one of the main fanseries I'll be talking about in this very post)

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Deep within the reaches of cyberspace, there is a secret world known simply as Arcadia, a place where all video game characters around can travel to their own games freely. However, the land of Arcadia was soon under attack by the villainous "Dark Network" and their army of monstrous glitches wanting to take over their world. However, a sneaky and speedy rabbit named Riki and a fairy named Aruna end up making their way to the human world and end up running into a girl named Mariko Asoda, but with Riki and Aruna on the run from the Baguras, Riki hands Mariko a Pixel Curesette and she then transforms into the heroine of exciting Action, Cure Action! Filled with determination to save the gaming world of Arcadia as well as her own, Cure Action's truly wild adventure is about to begin. Now! Pretty Cure Game Start!

The main themes of this series deal with stuff like technology, cyberspace, and reality and fiction, while motifs include stuff like video games, pixels, and 90's aesthetics. I plan on releasing this fanseries on a few fanfic sites (AO3, Quotev, even Wattpad) and I do have a wiki for it, if you are wondering about what I used to make the cures and other characters, it's Kisekae a pretty well-known dollmaker software (It can be pretty NSFW though just keep that in mind, though there is an SFW version if I remember correctly), though two characters have been made with picrew, but enough about that let's get into...

~~~

The Cures!

From Left to Right: Nene Kanemitsu, Mariko Asoda, Kayla Coleman, Aruna Yushi

Mariko Asoda / Cure Action (Pink)

A fourteen-year-old student council member with a soft spot for video games, a big daydreamer, and a selfless escapist who just wants to help people like the video game heroes she loves, but has a big sense of righteousness about her, loves to over indulge in her hobbies and always expects gratitude from others. Has a bit of a habit of saying "Level Up!". Becoming Cure Action, she is themed after action games and platformers and has fire powers.

Kayla Coleman / Cure Puzzle (Green)

A fifteen-year-old foreign exchange student originally from Brooklyn, New York, and despite her quiet disposition she is very much a crafty inventor type who has a love for crafting new ideas, despite that confident mask she wears, she is a massive introvert with some slight confidence issues, with a love for sarcasm and darker topics and just wants to be accepted and loved by others for the games she creates and codes. When she becomes Cure Puzzle, she gains the powers of the earth via stones and tetrominoes, and is themed after puzzle games.

Nene Kanemitsu / Cure Song (Yellow)

The daughter of the creator of the famous game mascot Riki the Rabbit, Nene is well-known as a passionate and competitive professional gamer who is a regular at the Skyblue arcade center, especially when it comes to rhythm games. Nene essentially acts as the mood maker of the group, going through life with a rather positive and takes life and everyday situations through good humor and optimism, but has a big obsession with idols and isn't afraid to talk about her hyper fixations for a long time, can be a bit careless, short-tempered, boisterous, and is not good with money at all. As Cure Song, she is themed after Rhythm Games and has the power of sound.

Aruna / Aru Yuushi / Cure Hero (Blue)

Originally known as the fairy priestess Aruna, a character that originated from the video game RPG Valianta Quest X, she made her home in the Pixel Pocket (Basically the transformation items of the season) after she was saved by Riki, who always wanted to become a knight out of the want to truly help out her kingdom, she eventually transformed into a human via learning a spell. A very defensive girl with a hard shell and tries to convey a heroic and yet cool image, but is a way more sensitive person underneath it all. As Cure Hero, she is themed after Adventure games and RPG's, and wields the power of light via the Bravery Sword, instead of the Virtual Sticks the cures normally use.

Allies

Riki

The protagonist of a popular platformer game series that Mariko is a big fan of. Riki can move at super fast speeds and pick things up with his ears, who is adventurous, lively, and a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

Princess Dahlia

The fair and sweet ruler of the Bloomfield kingdom, and despite her dainty and cutesy appearance, she is actually the leader of the resistance fighting against the “Dark Network” in Arcadia, in which she comes from the popular puzzle game “Puzzle De Puyo”.

Fumio Kanemitsu

Nene’s father and the man who created Riki the Rabbit, and currently works as a programmer for the video game company Kurotaki, moody, fickle, changeable, and obviously weirded out by the fact his creation is real, he ends up becoming a big ally to the team, mainly due to his knowledge about programming.

The Dark Network Fuguerror A mysterious glitchy being hidden within dark depths of cyberspace, he is a cruel, cunning, and yet oddly playful being, and is the one the Dark Network are trying to essentially complete, and summon him mainly via collecting Digi Data.

Belladonna

Leader of the generals and the one who founded the Dark Network group in the first place after discovering Fuguerror, a rather seductive and devious enchantress who is known for her self centered-ness, her love of making her presence known, and getting a kick out of seeing people enraged and essentially teasing her enemies, she's also known for her love of making very odd smelling (And toxic!) "perfume". Belladonna comes from the medieval beat em up game "Radira Fight Knights"

Doctor Serpentine

Riki the Rabbit's number one adversary and a rather dastardly mad scientist taking the form of a snake, he mostly tries to take down foes with the many robotic suits he builds, and he loves flaunting his intelligence skill in robotics, despite his aggressive way of speaking to others. Nikto

A rather cunning if rather short wizard. Nikto acts as a mediator between the villainous group and tends to try and take Belladonna down the peg a little, he's also very skilled at magic, especially when it comes to illusions and trickery which he often tries to take advantage of to his own benefits, and really doesn't like it when people make fun of his height. He is the main villain of the famous RPG "Valianta Quest V". Adalram

A Mysterious Swordsman with a wide set of tools, and a man who is a rather flirty soul who likes to use his wit and charm to recruit other villains to Dark Network's cause, but he is dedicated to protecting the other members, namely Miss Belladonna. He comes from the popular adventure game series "Secret Sword".

~~~ And do you think this is the only fanseries I have...No, I have another, a Ninja, family and Japanese mythology-based fanseries, that being... Doron! Kunoichi Precure!

I haven't made a logo for the fanseries yet and I don't have a lot of designs for it (Only the cures have been designed so far), so please bear with me.

For nineteen generations, the Kaminarimon school of ninjas have been protecting both Earth and the Celestial Plains from the Kagemashu Army of yokai, creatures who emerge from the shadowy depths of the underworld to cause fear and terror to those around them. But when it seemed that the nineteenth generation of ninja had finally sealed Nurarihyon and his army for good, one yokai ended up breaking the seal years later with the Kagemashu beginning their attacks again, with the current head of the Kaminarimon household Shosuke, and his daughter Tomoe beginning a plan to recruit some new legendary ninja to combat the new threat. And when a compassionate middle school girl named Shinobu Fuuno ends up stumbling upon a scroll hidden within the back of a shrine near the Kaminarimon household, and she ends up summoning five friendly spirits but ends up running into Nopperabo and the Kagemashu’s deadly monsters the Maganoke, however with the help of the Doron Commune she transforms into the legendary ninja of the wind, Cure Shippu! Protecting the Earth from evil, hiding deep within the shadows, now change! Precure let’s ninja GO!

Cures!

From left to right: Tomoe Kaminarimon, Fujiko Takayama, Shinobu Fuuno, Hiyori Hinomiya, Kozue Kobayashi

Shinobu Fuuno / Cure Shippu (Pink)

An airy girl with a love for Japanese Traditions as well as Samurai and Ninja Dramas (with her father being an actor in these drama’s himself in the past), she prefers not standing out among her classmates though can't help but run her mouth when she feels like it, but wants to find out what happened to her mother. Has the habit of saying “Feel the wind!” and as Cure Shippu, she wields the power of the wind.

Kozue Kobayashi / Cure Shinrin (Green)

A sensible, tall, reliable, and yet traditional girl akin to a Yamato Nadeshiko, Kozue is good at giving advice to others and is a geisha in training aside from her pretty cure duties and has a love for familiarity and making wagashi…However, she is a massive party animal and is terrible with technology, and such her fellow piers at her geisha training look down upon her because of it, and as Cure Shinrin, she wields the power of wood.

Hiyori Hinomiya / Cure Rekka (Red)

A Shrine Maiden working at a local shrine with a bit of a hot-blooded and passionate flair, she is skilled at archery and is very action-oriented, and can be a bit prideful and impulsive despite her being a bit responsible and mature. Is a bit jealous of Shinobu being the leader and has a habit of setting high standards for herself, mainly due to the fact she was chosen because her sister (Who was going to become a cure) had fallen ill at the time, and as Cure Rekka, she wields the power of fire.

Fujiko Takayama / Cure Gunzan (Blue)

A very emotional yet secretive and sensitive girl who is rather knowledgeable though with a bit of a hard shell, but can have her moments where she can get more than a bit dramatic, mainly because of her theater-loving background and has a soft spot for folklore, especially spirits, and yokai, and as Cure Gunzan she wields the power of the earth.

Tomoe Kaminarimon / Cure Raitei (Yellow)

The future head of the Kaminarimon household and a woman who acts as the mentor to the cures, and while she does have a rather cold and strict exterior, she actually has a rather adventurous and even unpredictable and spontaneous side to her, akin to that of lightning, which she wields as Cure Raitei.

Unfortunately, I only have basic ideas for the other characters currently. I'm planning on the mascots essentially being small spirit gods from the Celestial Plains which are ruled by the big good Amaterasu (Yes, the Shinto Sun Goddess herself). The villains I do have more ideas for, with them basically being a sort of criminal organization of Yokai with each general being based on one (The Nine-Tailed Fox, Tengu, Oni, etc.) with the big bad being Nurarihyon. But Aside from the cures I haven't designed em. ~~~ And that's all I have been mainly working on so far in terms of Fanseries, really hope you all have enjoyed reading this post, as much as I had fun making it.

See you later guys, gals, and enby pals alike!

[lgcwenjun]

music show #1 pledge

everything feels as though it's moving at a scarily rapid fire pace – wenjun wonders just how exactly he might be able to keep up with this. debut feels so insanely close, as though he can almost touch it. they have a date in mind now and wenjun thinks he can almost see the finish line.

"each of you has to write down a pledge for if you win first place on music shows."

the idea of winning first place in a music show though, feels a little foreign to wenjun. is it alright for him to wish for something like that? but it'd be a lie if he said the thought had never crossed his mind; after watching countless groups hold trophies and thanking their fans, he wondered if one day that could be him as well – if he could feel that sort of excitement.

he stands in front of the camera, furrowing his brows and feeling a little embarrassed, mostly because he's unsure if it's alright for someone like him to wish for something so badly. he wants to though, he wants to imagine himself winning first place.

"if mzsd were to get first place on a music show!" he begins, smiling wide, cheeks a little red. "then ... i'll promise to sing our debut song while riding on a rollercoaster in lotte world! i'll record myself using a camera, for all our fans to see!" he'll probably look horrible, and his voice might falter a little ( he'll probably be too busy screaming as well ), but they were told to get as creative as they'd like and wenjun thinks this is about as creative as it might be.

"that's a promise!" he beams.

[sommersong]

@cordoliae as n.ikolai l.antsov : kiss meme + 16 – a kiss in the rain.

THE SUMMER RAIN SINGS AGAINST THE RAVKAN SOIL LIKE A NATURAL SYMPHONY AND SIMEON REVELS IN IT. they have been too long separated from the sea, from that detached life that felt so far apart from everything else in this world. simeon has long since adjusted to life in os alta, to life with other grisha, to lingering in the background of nikolai's court now that a second prince has become king of all ravka. although simeon will never fully fit amongst the ravkans here, he has found a niche of his own. still, he stands in staunch support of nikolai and his rule, regardless of his status as a foreign national. aside from his grisha training, he makes himself useful conversing with kerch delegates beneath the banner of his family's status, balancing squarely on his own charm and his family's status in his home country to make up for any lack of formal diplomatic training. to accept duty offers distraction, which comes as a relief, given where his thoughts tend to wander when left to his own devices.

but despite the pressure that settles heavily upon the king's court, the stakes faced by this fragile government, it's moments like this that remind simeon of the small joys that still exist in the world.

nature's song seems to rise to meet the sound of nikolai's laughter over the rain on the boughs of the tree as he follows his companion indulgently along, no doubt more for the inferni’s benefit than anything else. simeon's cheeks ache with his grin and he feels so utterly buoyant that he barely minds that he's soaked to the skin and his hair is plastered entirely to his forehead. he urges the king – no, his friend – to remain quiet through his own soft laughter, pulling the other man along through the trees as if they've returned to a carefree youth that never existed for either of them. warmth spindles from where his fingertips touch nikolai's wrist and the man who makes fire finally feels like the hearth of a home. in this moment, at least, he can briefly forget that he is but a merchant’s son and kolya is a king and that there is no chance of reciprocation whatever his foolish feelings may be, whatever the fluttering and aching in his chest when they share a private look has become. he becomes a boy again, whimsical and mischievous, like a sprite in a fairy tale, and nikolai becomes the best friend he never had, who breathes life into his heart, whose fingers feel electric when they brush against the bare skin of his forearm.

“ hush, nikolai, or they’ll find us. ” he speaks through a poorly repressed giggle, eyes alight with a childish joy that’s become all too rare. he pulls the other man nearer as he slips through the lush brush of the forest, grip firm on his companion’s wrist. “ and whatever would they say if they discovered you in such a state in my company, no less? ”

a joke, of course, for they both know that, even if anyone were to locate them all the way out here, the most likely people to locate them would be one of the twins, neither of whom would be remotely surprised to find them wandering the woods a mess. others would never find out — and, sim supposed, couldn’t, for he was loathe to consider what they might say of him, of the king, even if nothing scandalous had occurred between them at all. and nothing had, despite simeon’s daydreams of increasing frequency and vivacity. they’ve remained friends all this time, years since the crew of the volkvolny found sim in novyi zem, yet somehow it feels like both weeks and decades at once most days. when he's able to forget about the divide between them, their friendship feels as though it's new and exciting yet still older than he can recall. except he's not able to forget often. nikolai's station – this whole country – drives a wedge between them ( between the king and anybody, really ) and no matter whether sim has grown somewhat used to it after all this time, it still rankles him.

and he digs his fingers into moments like these so much more desperately, as if clinging to them could imprint them upon his mind the viewing of art.

“ it's this way, ” he says, tugging again at nikolai's wrist toward a slowly sloping embankment to his right. simeon's purpose is childish, really, and he knows it, but somehow that simply heightens the moment. somehow he does not even wonder if nikolai finds him ridiculous ; instead, he imagines that he was, perhaps, a young student at the little palace years ago, that they'd encountered one another before they both adopted war, stolen into the woods together to create mischief. it was a sweet dream, but a dream nevertheless. he dreams it now as they make their way toward the fox's lair he'd discovered while riding on his own and determined to conceal from the next hunt. he isn't sure whether curiosity or amusement drew nikolai to his side for his foolish errand, but he's certainly grateful.

so sure is he of his footing that it comes as an utter shock when the embankment gives beneath them and simeon feels himself falling with it. his other hand instinctively grabs for nikolai, snagging on his shirt, unwittingly pulling him along, and then they're tumbling, mud splattering, soaking into their clothes instantly as they roll to the bank of a bubbling brook. simeon grunts when they land, unable to keep him from falling unceremoniously to nikolai's chest in a way he's sure isn't comfortable but that he himself is too shocked to remedy. for a few moments he simply lays there, chest heaving, the fingers of one hand still clutched against the fabric of his friend's shirt. one moment, they had been but a handsomely tousled but groomed pair ; now, they were doused head to toe in forest muck, shirts soaked through, the summer rain pinging against the brook and stones around them as if laughing at their expense.

“ that certainly wasn't part of the plan! ” he manages breathlessly, words muffled into nikolai's chest before he manages to lift his head to actually look at the man beneath him. another choked laugh escapes him at the sight. “ saints, you're a mess, look at you, ” he adds in a hushed voice as his gaze lingers on the filth no doubt covering them both. he doesn't add that, somehow, nikolai still looks radiant, golden and beautiful unlike anybody simeon has ever seen. always, he's aware of it, but never has it struck him quite this heavily, clutching at his throat and making it impossible to breathe. with one careful hand, he wipes away the mud from half of nikolai's face, unblinking all the while. “ if I had my sister's tidemaking, ” he murmurs, “ then I could easily fix the problem, but I fear my gifts would only turn you into a very pretty piece of pottery in this state. ”

but though simeon tries to make a joke, his voice slips from him a little too strained and he feels that the air around them has changed, grown heavier, pulling inward as though in anticipation of something. his thumb absently strokes against the sharp angle of nikolai's cheekbone, a gesture sim barely registers as he continues to stare, watching the summer rain carve rivulets in the remaining mud along the king's forehead, hairline, brows. he hadn't realized how deeply he wanted to behold the sight until this moment, but his friend had never looked so beautiful, as though the weight he always carries along with him has momentarily evaporated and left him delightedly free.

the magnetism between them that keeps him here, pressed to nikolai when he knows he should let him rise, must be what pulls him even closer in that moment, draws him in like moth to a flame. when he thinks about this moment later, he won't recall deciding to kiss his friend, just like he will only be mostly sure that he initiated it. but regardless of how, it happens, and nikolai's lips taste like earth and something distantly and impossibly sweet, and simeon melts entirely. had he any intention to kiss the other man shyly, softly, sweetly – had he the presence of mind for any intention at all, really – such resolve flees instantly. instinct seizes him and knits his fingers in nikolai's soaking hair as his kisses quickly turn desperate, fervent, almost hungry. still, he savors each, tasting his friend's mouth and the warm rain that runs between their lips, softly tugging the pale strands beneath his fingers and feeling the grit of the mud between them. it's a kiss to light his blood on fire as it burns through his veins, to awaken a starvation he'd barely known existed, such that he wouldn't have been able to remember to be shy even if he'd wanted to. in this moment, his world lies in the delicious warmth of nikolai's mouth.

but reality strikes like a war hammer to the chest and he pulls away suddenly, half choked by the boldness of his own rash actions. his chest heaves as he stares wide-eyed at nikolai, mouth slightly ajar as the cogs of his mind turn around the impact of what he's just done. a nauseatingly cold sensation of fear pours over him like an ocean wave. oh, simeon, you little fool, what on earth have you done?!

“ oh, god – ” he manages to gasp as he pulls back, struggling to rise to his feet, to give his friend the space he's certain he probably wants. “ nikolai, I'm ... I'm sorry, I didn't – ” stumbling over his words, he clumsily maneuvers to the side, but the mud, slippery as it is, removes his feet from under him and he tumbles into the mud beside where they fell with a grunt. the embarrassment of it quickly deepens the flush already growing upon his cheeks, though whether it can even be seen beneath the new layer of filth on his face, he doesn't have the first idea. all he knows for sure is that he has to get out of here, before his friend can gather his wits, before he can look at him with that affectionate sadness, before he can gently let him down the way sim is sure he must.

“ I – ” against the rough terrain and his own roiling emotions, simeon struggles uncharacteristically for his balance, refusing to look at the king now that he's torn his gaze away. “ I – I – I have to ... to go, I – ”

kiss roulette.

[teejeyfreak]

“MY UNFORGETTABLE MEMORIES DURING HIGSCHOOL”

High school—the very phrase stirs a flood of memories, a tidal wave of emotions crashing against the shores of my mind. It was a time of growth, of discovery, of stumbling through obstacles both internal and external. As I reflect on those formative years, the hurdles and triumphs stand out like vivid brushstrokes on the canvas of my youth.

The journey began with trepidation, the weight of adolescence heavy upon my shoulders. I remember the first day vividly, the nervous energy crackling in the air like static electricity. Stepping through the imposing gates of the school, I was greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces, each one a potential friend or foe. The halls echoed with laughter and chatter, a cacophony of voices blending into a symphony of adolescence.

But amidst the excitement lurked the shadows of uncertainty. The academic rigors of high school loomed like mountains on the horizon, their peaks obscured by clouds of doubt. Would I be able to keep up with the demands of coursework? Would I find my place among my peers? These questions weighed heavily on my mind, casting a pall over the bright promise of a new chapter.

The first obstacle presented itself in the form of algebra—a subject that seemed as foreign to me as ancient hieroglyphics. Try as I might, the equations danced like elusive phantoms, slipping through my grasp with frustrating ease. Hours were spent poring over textbooks, grappling with concepts that seemed to mock my efforts. But with each stumble came a glimmer of understanding, a faint beacon of hope amidst the darkness of confusion.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I found my footing in the academic arena. Subjects that once seemed insurmountable gradually became second nature, their complexities unraveling like a puzzle solved through perseverance and determination. With each passing grade, I gained confidence in my abilities, a sense of accomplishment fueling my drive to excel.

But high school was more than just a battleground of intellect—it was a crucible of character, where friendships were forged in the fires of shared experiences. I recall the laughter that echoed through the corridors during lunch breaks, the camaraderie of teammates on the soccer field, the late-night study sessions fueled by caffeine and camaraderie.

Yet amidst the laughter, there were tears—the inevitable byproduct of teenage angst and uncertainty. Friendships were tested, hearts were broken, dreams were shattered like fragile glass. The social hierarchy loomed like a specter, its invisible hand dictating the ebb and flow of teenage politics. But through it all, I learned the value of resilience, of picking myself up after each fall and forging ahead with newfound strength.

One unforgettable memory stands out amidst the tapestry of high school experiences—a moment that encapsulates the triumphs and tribulations of those tumultuous years. It was the day of the senior prom, a night of glitz and glamour that promised to be the highlight of our high school careers. As I stood before the mirror, adjusting my tie with trembling hands, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia mingled with anticipation.

The gymnasium was transformed into a fairy tale ballroom, twinkling lights casting a soft glow over the dance floor. Couples swayed to the rhythm of the music, their laughter mingling with the strains of a love song. For a fleeting moment, the worries and woes of high school faded into the background, replaced by a sense of unity and celebration.

But as the night wore on, reality intruded like an unwelcome guest, reminding us that our time together was drawing to a close. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut—the end of high school was not just the end of an era, but the beginning of a new chapter, filled with uncertainty and possibility.

As I walked across the stage to receive my diploma, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness mingled with pride. High school had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions, a whirlwind of obstacles and unforgettable memories that had shaped me into the person I was destined to become. And as I looked towards the future, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the same courage and resilience that had carried me through those formative years.