#The Grace in Syn

[solaarbeeam]

NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK

windbreaker x gn!reader

warnings/cw: no warning, usage of Y/N and L/N

syn. - a new school and gang has come to town, the boys all have their respective opinions on it.

characters :: haruka sakura, hayate suo, umemiya hajime, togame jo

a/n:: been obsessed with this anime for a minute now but this is my first work in the fandom sooo lemme know if yall like it!! if i forgot a character or you wanna see more just lemme know what character you’d wanna see <33

side note, this fic is completely self indulgent because i know the usual shtick is ‘oh they protect you’ which of course nothing is wrong with that, but i also like it more when reader is also badass and can fight, so here we are!! pls enjoy 😊

HARUKA SAKURA

He had been sent to your home grounds on Umemiya’s orders, as a way to get to know the new gang in town. Rumors has it that this new gang is strong, and had a hand in orchestrating a raid on Zinc which has now left Zinc in a horrible position.

You already know how he feels about strength and what it means to be strong, so he would’ve checked it out by himself, but Umemiya had said to go with Suo and Nirei, and so here they are, about to cross over into your territory.

Once they pass the overhead bridge, he’s met with a school building, not all that bigger than Bofurin, with graffiti in some spots. On the front, there was a flag, a soft blue color with a sun, its rays moving in a spiral.

Sanshedo. Sun Shade. Interesting name, he thinks.

“Are you sure we can just waltz in here? Aren’t we gonna get in trouble if we just come in with no warning?” Asks Nirei, obviously shaking from the unfamiliar surroundings.

In Sakura’s opinion, who the hell cares? If it’s such a big issue, then this new gang can deal with it-

“Your friend is right, yknow? I could’ve said you were intruding and have our Head send a couple guys to deal with you three.”

He whisks around, taking in your features. From the style of boots you’re wearing to the look you’re giving him, Nirei, and Suo.

The very first thing he thinks, is pretty.

He blushes as soon as the thought comes to his mind.

“However, seeing the jackets you three have on, I’m not worried about starting problems. You guys are members of Bofurin, right? Windbreaker?”

He nods frantically, unsure as to why he’s so nervous. He’s not in a fight, and even when he is, all he feels is anticipation, only hints of nervousness, and excitement. Why is it different now?

Why is it so different with you?

He can feel Suo’s stare at his back, and he’d been inclined to look at him if it wasn’t for the way you just trapped him in place, unable to move.

“Cool hair, by the way. Also, Blondie, I like the clip and I like the earrings, eyepatch.”

“It’s Haruka Sakura, not just cool hair.”

But why did it feel so nice to hear that you think his hair is cool instead of weird or scary. What the hell is going on?

���Well, Haruka Sakura, the name’s L/N Y/N. Bofurin, welcome to Sanshedo.”

You throw your hands up to showcase the school behind you, the symbol of Sanshedo, god he needs to remember the name, shown on the back of your jacket.

“Also, I hear you’re strong, Sakura. Care for a friendly fight?” A sly grin makes its way on your face, and he can feel his lips curl up into a smile.

“You’re on, L/N.”

Somehow, this new gang doesn’t seem to be half bad after all.

HAYATO SUO

Hayato Suo has always been the type to play with his food. Not in a literal sense per se, but when it comes to fights.

He is very much intrigued when he sees you, very much multiple knuckles deep in a fight. The way you fought them was so mesmerizing to him, how you moved was so fluid and graceful.

Alas, he was on town patrol with Sakura and Nirei, so all good things must come to an end. Nirei shouts the word ‘intruder’, and in that same breath, you had finished the group of thugs.

“Oh shit, it’s Bofurin!”

The three of three stop, not knowing what to do. Kiryuu and Tsugeura fall in step behind them, all brandished on Sakura’s opposite sides.

Suo pauses, noticing the light blue color of your jacket. The pin on the jacket has a spiral, and from the side view, he can see glimpses of a design on the back of the jacket, not unlike their enemy-turned-friend Shishitoren.

He eyes you up and down, nothing that seems threatening in your stance or posture. How interesting.

Hayato Suo has always been a curious child.

“Yes, that would be us, and you are?”

Nirei looks up at him in exasperation. He pointedly ignores it.

“L/N Y/N of Sanshedo. We’re a new faction in town. Say, you’re Hayato Suo, right? Fancy a spar?”

Well, he has always been the curious type, and Umemiya has always told them that fights are conversations, so why not?

“Sure.”

Sakura splutters. He’s been trying to get a fight out of Suo for ages!

What can he say? You’re very pretty and very interesting, is there anything else he needs in order to make a connection?

HAJIME UMEMIYA

As the leader of Bofurin, he has a responsibility to all of the people, his family, under his jurisdiction. He has a duty to the townspeople as well.

Quite frankly, he’s had a lot of foresight, especially when it comes to a certain two-toned first year, but he could’ve never predicted this.

A new gang, thats apparently been in existence for a while now, only two years younger than the founding of Bofurin, and he sees this as his responsibility to go and check it out.

A poor oversight on his part, in his opinion.

He shrugs on his coat, making sure to let Tsubakino that him and Hiragi are heading out, and exists the Furin premises.

The minute he gets there, he sees a whole abandoned school building, but looks big enough to be mistaken for a mini-airport.

Outside, he sees a couple people wearing identical jackets. A light blue colored varsity jacket, with spirals etched into the buttons and a sun branded into the back of the jackets.

A sun? Interesting choice of mascots.

Hiragi taps his shoulder, pointing to the windows of the building.

When Umemiya looks to the building, he sees the windows lined with nothing but people looking at them, all branded with the same light blue jackets, boys and girls mixed and alike.

Okay, he admits it. Walking into another gang’s territory without prompting is his fault, but he was curious!

“You work for Bofurin? Come with me.”

They’re both taken to an office. It has the same logo on the jackets on the wall, with the kanji for the gang in the middle.

Sanshedo. Sun Shade.

“Boss? I brought two people that wanna meet you-“

“Look! I got some new gemstones! I have topaz to add to the collection now- Oh!”

You snap your head to attention, to which Umemiya is looking at the collection of jewels with sparkling eyes. You look back at him with sparkling eyes as well.

You both share a hyperfixation. What is there not to like?

He can feel Hiragi’s deadpan stare behind him.

“Oooh! What do you like?”

“Plants!”

“Cool! Hey, you lead Bofurin, right? What’s your name?”

“Umemiya Hajime, you?”

“L/N Y/N, leader of Sanshedo. Care for a chat?”

Sure, he originally came to see what was up, discuss territory and make a possible alliance, but hey! This is cool too.

And you’re very cute. Like, very very cute.

TOGAME JO

Well, here’s the thing about Togame and his relationship with Shishitoren thus far.

He’s changed, him and Choji, that doesn’t mean they aren’t still just as vigilant with protecting and managing their territory as they were before the Bofurin Tournament.

So, when he hears there’s a big ass brawl in between two different gangs in his and Choji’s territory, he puts himself into action immediately.

He slings on his jacket, the embroidered lion’s head contrasting with the monk-like garb he had on the daily. Glasses catching sunlight, running with Choji.

Only to come to the scene to find you, minor cuts and scrapes along your face, and blood on your knuckles that really didn’t seem to belong to you.

Then he looks down to see the other guys, and finally thinks, yes, you whooped ass.

However, that doesn’t mean that you get off scot free. This is his territory after all, and if it went unchecked, it would be worse for Shishitoren’s already bad reputation.

“And who might you be, beating up people in our territory.”

“I honestly couldn’t care less. I’ve seen those jackets, you’re Shishitoren. I have no business listening to people who prey on the weak for fun.”

“I don’t care what you think of us, you’re still in our territory. Also? You talk too much.”

“You beat up middle schoolers, I really don’t want to hear it. I just helped you out with Zinc, give me a break.”

His eye twitches. It’s too damn early for this.

And you’re quite the looker. It’s a shame you’re enemies as of right now.

Damn you’re cute. Fuck, maybe he can try to redirect the conversation?

“How about we start with your name and who you’re under then we can chat.”

Hopefully over some ice tea and your number in his phone by the end of today. Can he pull it off? Shit, he’ll certainly try.

“Y/N L/N. Right hand to Sanshedo’s leader. You? I’ve heard of Tomiyama over there, but not you.”

You are so lucky you’re drop dead gorgeous or else he would’ve drop kicked you into next week.

“Togame Jo. Right hand to Shishitoren’s leader. Care for a chat over a drink?”

You look at him some type of way, but agree in the end.

Now if only he can get your number, today will be perfect.

© solaarbeeam 2024. do not repost or translate to any site.

[ladybyakuya]

| PAPRIKA + UMEMIYA HAJIME .

+cw. — fem!reader x prince!umemiya hajime, undertones of smut, angst, and fluff & strangers to lovers. | +wc. — 1k | +syn.— a tryst just before his big day and that was all it took to for him to be fearless. | +notes. — i do wanna write more. . .maybe continue it as mini series but lets see if the stars align or not! | redirect to blog navigation.

“Nobody needs to know about this,” Umemiya rasps against your shaky lips by breaking his tantalizingly lazy yet turbulent kiss.

“Yeah.” You breathe out a whisper, running your hands over his palms that rest on your cheeks. 

“Right.  . . Nobody.” His lips dash on yours again as his hands slowly travel down to your shoulders, deft hands, gnarly fingers slipping underneath the hem of your robe, little by little, peeling the robe off you. His Imperial Mantle conceals your body, always has been; since the day he laid his eyes on you. Even if the weight of it is too heavy to bear it alone sometimes, Umemiya believed that it was a little less when he was with you, when he saved you on that fierce stormy starless night. But even without it the high golden curtains and the pillar would provide both of you enough time to flee if anyone were to come, which is why Hiragi is standing at the advent of this gigantic hallway.

You feel the cold of the air grace one of your shoulders with goosebumps. Umemiya’s face is buried in the nook of your neck, one of his limbs holding the back of your nape keeping you in your place. still. The tip of his tongue licks your collarbones once before he flattens his tongue which travels from the head of your collarbone to the back of your ear lobes while his other limb follows the same trail from your waist up to your breast. His teeth nip your ear lobes at the same time as his hand squeezes your breasts making you stand on your tippy toes and then, you moan; the roused sigh flowing right into his ear making him recoil from this ravishing reality being reminded of his status as well as the consequences of his actions: that with such personage there come responsibilities followed by certain boundaries with it not leaving behind a promising morbidity either. You have always known that the tragedy that comes with the throne, and it never leaves you. It is epoxized to one fate and blood as if the other side of a coin thereby running from it was foolish, fighting against it is nothing but a pity so all you can do is to stand beside it.

Any pitchier than that, your voice would have echoed through the corridors. You have become exceptionally good at controlling your voice with the passage of time. His facial muscles squeeze at the thought of how cruel time it is that it passes. If only he could stop the time. . .

“We shouldn't do this,” Umemiya mumbled with a moan laced underneath, devouring desire palpable oozing from his breath. He skids away from you, saunting straight towards his inner chambers. Those fingers that have held a thousand swords, sparred day and night, fought battles that shook heaven and hell once refused to have the valor to disrobe you. Were you supposed to believe that? Your breath ceases at the bottom of your throat as you stand with your back glued against the wall in that gigantic empty corridor. There is a sound in the air. You can hear it; but no one is talking, neither walking or even taking a breath. You look at the end of the corridor only to see royal guard Hiragi standing just like before, a bronze statue except this time his palms are at the valley of his torso are twitching upon each other. 

You walk into his chambers finding him sitting at the edge of the bed with the crown of the prince in his hand, eyes scrutinizing it as if he could see the fate it holds once it finds its next rightful place since it has to find a new head to burden with a glorious purpose; since Umemiya would not be bearing the weight of such a burden anymore, after all, he is going to be appointed as the king today— a crown of heavier in status, weight, power and tragedy than before.

“Well, my knight, do you wish to save it after the coronation ceremony?”

Umemiya nods. . . simply nods, like six times in a row as if he did not expect such a question from you.  A crescent curve along your lips appears as you mumble to yourself, “Such a puppy.”

You two have not gotten to that stage yet. Umemiya stands up straightening his spine as you walk towards him. You take one good look at him, the knight you met that night before you fix his robe. You tie the knot of the laces of his dress shirt that has been undone by those same fingers not so long ago. Then, you move on to tying his coronation mantle. Umemiya looks at you as you take your time preparing him for his coronation ceremony. He thinks it is an act of galore valor that you can take responsibility for the things you mess up. 

“Are you nervous Haji?” 

“A little,” He says grabbing your palm, ceasing your movements as you were just about to deprive him from the touch of your hands. 

You look up. His eyes are as dark as the ocean. Your fingers clamp around his wrist pulling it on your chest. “Here.” You place your other hand on the left side of his chest. “No matter what or who turns their back to you I will never.” His eyebrows pinch ever so slightly that it is barely pinnable. The sincerity you have in those sparkling eyes, the loyalty that courses through your veins whenever you are around him, the devotion you have when you touch him is too much for him. It scares him. It scares his sanity to think what if . . . he loses you or something much worse . . .

“I know, my love.” He chimes leaning down. “I know.” His voice is now a weak whisper, a prayer as it says your name. His forehead touches yours as his free hand rests on yours which is still on his chest.

[bunnybrews]

the predator, the prey and the hunter- sylus x reader (slight mc x reader)

genre : angst, slight yandere, suggestive

syn : betrayal isn't something sylus takes lightly, specially when it comes from his bunny.

cw : non-mc! reader, abduction, violence, hair pulling, choking, usage of nicknames (dove, bunny, love, doll, etc.), mention of slapping, slight yandere behaviour.

wc : 2,961

you were nothing but a low ranking member of onychinus, so receiving a mission of such importance was extremely rare and yet here you were, babysitting the hunter who had recently been abducted by your master.

you watched in wonder as the hunter moved around, seemingly searching for an exit. there was a certain grace she carried which enamoured you.

she had everything you wanted, she was everything you wanted to be. brave, kind, strong willed and above all, she belonged to the place of your dreams, linkon city.

you had always wanted to go to linkon, to see the sun, to feel its rays hit your body and fill you with a deep sense of joy and warmth just like all those books described.

but alas, some dreams can never be fulfilled. your fate had already been decided when you took birth in a small shady cabin in the N109 zone to a mother who had a terminal illness and a father who was barely there due to his duties as an onychinus member.

you remember being barely fourteen when the news of your father dying during a mission reached you home. your mother had cried and sobbed all day while you just sat there, unable to bring yourself to cry over a man who you barely saw.

your mother followed your father's footsteps just a year later. her illness finally taking what was left of her.

just a day after your mother's death, the leader of onychinus had personally visited your small shack, offering you a place in his mansion and a position in his syndicate.

though you had nothing against him personally, infact, you held a certain amount of respect for him, yet this was not what you wanted. you didn't want to be part of a criminal organisation, no, you wanted to leave.

you wanted to fulfil the dreams you saw as a young child, to experience the stories your mother often read to you, you wanted to escape the dark alleys of N109 zone and flee to linkon.

yet you weren't dumb enough to refuse his offer. you knew that doing so would ensure a rather painful death. hence, you agreed.

and here you were now, staring at the hunter as if she was some goddess who had just descended from the high heavens.

the stars in your eyes were painfully visible to everyone, including the hunter. she could see the curiosity and naivety that lingered in your eyes. as much as it bothered her, she knew tricking and using you would be her only way to escape this hell.

your eyes lit up as you saw the hunter take a seat next to you on the sofa before you quickly looked away, trying to school your expressions back to neutral.

though before you got the chance to do so, a hand was placed on your thigh making you snap your head towards the hunter who was currently smiling down at you.

the fact that the hunter was a few inches taller than you was made evident when you had to crane your head up to look into her eyes.

they were green like the protocores you saw being transported in and out of the mansion and so so shiny! you were basically lost in their vibrancy.

a gentle squeeze to your thigh brought you out of your musing as a chuckle left the hunter's pretty lips.

“what's your name?” it was a simple question but the voice that left her lips had you in a trance, one that was broken by another squeeze to your thigh.

“i- i can't tell you my name. sorry!”

you were quick to remember your training and lessons, making sure to not reveal anything.

“why though? its just a name, its not like i'm going to report you to the hunters or something”

“umm yeah but master told us to not reveal anything about ourselves to anyone. he says that it could lead us into a lot of trouble. i'm really sorry but i can't go against his orders”

the hunter huffed in annoyance as she realised that she won't be finding any answers from the girl anytime soon. she had to change her approach.

“no no, you don't need to apologise. its my fault for asking. it's just that i've been trapped here for so long and you are the first person who hasn't been rude to me, i was just trying to get to know you more i guess, i'm sorry.”

her voice was softer now, hints of sadness and pain wafting through it. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl sitting next to you, your heart melting a little at the frown on her face.

“i understand, it must have been hard for you, not having anyone to talk to. while i may not be able to share anything valuable with you, i'll be more than happy to indulge in a conversation!”

a smirk graced the hunter's lips for a second, the innocent dove had just entered the cage set up for her. she almost scoffed at your naivety. you don't belong here in this hell, she would have to make sure to take you with her when she finally finds a way out.

“how about we play 20 questions? we'll be able to get to know each other better this way without revealing any crucial details about ourselves and you can just skip the questions which you feel are too imposing.”

the hunter's plan was perfect. a game of 20 questions was her best shot at gathering whatever information she could under the guise of getting to know each other.

“that sounds so fun! we can do that!”

“alright, i'll start. why did you join onychinus?”

she watched as you tensed up, an air of uncomfort forming around you. sensing your unease, she decided to tread carefully and changed up the question.

“nevermind, you don't have to answer that. hmm, well…how about…what is something that you really want to do or really want to achieve?”

the hunter knew that this was a risky gamble yet the gleam that took over your eyes at the question reassured her. your voice was soft as you shyly answered while playing with your hands.

“i've always wanted to see the sun. i've heard lots of stories about it, my mom used to read them to me before bed! i just wanna see it with my own eyes. anyways, its my turn to ask you a question now!”

she nodded at you, motioning you to ask away.

“how does the sun feel like? does it feel good when you walk in the sunlight? is it just like the stories or does it hurt and irritate you?”

“it's even better than the stories. walking in the sunlight feels like you are being embraced by warmth itself. it's really magical.”

hook, line and sinker! the trap had already been set into place, all she needed to do now was to lure you out and judging by the look of amazement in your eyes, she could tell that she was already halfway there.

“alright, it seems to be my turn now. if you really want to see the sun so badly, then why are you still here in this damned place?”

she observed the way you lowered you head slightly and chewed on your bottom lip. she sighed as her hopes of getting an answer out of you diminished.

“uh well, i can't just leave. master won't allow it.”

“why? does he not give you any freedom to do as you wish? has he trapped you here as well?”

“it's not like that! i am allowed to roam around the zone all i want but i can't leave. it's against the rules. also, even if i was allowed to leave the zone, its not like i could ever step into linkon without being hunted down and charged for my association with onychinus.”

the frown tugging at your lips quickly lifted as a warm hand was placed under your jaw, gently lifting your face up.

“i can help you. i know someone who can make up a fake identity for you, no one will be able to recognize you!”

you sighed against her palm turning your face slightly so that your cheek was resting against her palm instead of your jaw.

“what's a fake identity gonna do when i can't even leave the zone? i told you, i'm not allowed to leave”

“then let's run away. run away with me and we'll go to linkon. let me help you. help me so i can help you.”

she felt the way you tensed up and drew back from her, a gasp leaving your lips. the hesitation was visible in your eyes, but there was something else too.

“y-you shouldn't be saying things like that out loud! master will be so angry if he heard you. he'll lock you up and kill me for even talking about such things if he heard this.

“will you please stop thinking about your master for a second and instead think about yourself for once! what about you? what about your wants? your desires? are you really just going to give all your dreams up like that? is this what you want? to keep living in this slump until you grow old and die one day without even seeing the sunlight? is that what you want, huh?”

her words jabbed at a wound that had always been present in your heart. you don't want this. you don't want to grow old here and die without seeing the sunlight, just like your parents did. you don't want the same fate as them.

the hunter smirked as she watched the flame she had ignited swallow you whole. the sweet sound of your resolve crumbling was audible to her. she could see your hesitation being replaced with determination.

“but how? how are you going to take me to linkon when you yourself are trapped here?”

“this, my love, is where you enter the plan. you will get me out of here, and as repayment, i'll get you a new identity and citizenship in linkon.”

“but how would i be able to help you? if i knew how to escape this place successfully, don't you think i would have used that tactic to flee already?”

“you may not know how to escape the N109 zone but i'm sure you know how to exit this mansion. all you have to do is get me out of here and leave the rest to me. don't worry your pretty little head too much by overthinking, doll. just lead me out of here, and i'll take you with me to the place of your dreams.”

she held out her hand to you, patiently waiting for you to accept her offer. it didn't surprise her a bit when your soft hand found its way into hers, fingers intertwined together.

you quickly stood up, taking the hunter with you as you used your key to open the door, leading the both of you towards the hallway which you knew would open into a secret exit.

the both of you dashed towards the exit hand in hand until a black mist suddenly pushed you both back forcefully, making you crash into the nearest wall.

before you could even open your mouth to let out a whine, a pair of blood red eyes captured your gaze. he found out.

you glanced at the hunter when the sound of someone choking and wheezing started filling the room. you could see the black mist tightly coiled around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

if this is how he punished the girl who he had abducted because she owned something that was necessary for his plan, you didn't even want to find out how he would punish you, a low ranking employee.

all you could do was shut your eyes tightly and await the punishment that you were sure was going to come your way.

the feeling of a bruising grip on your jaw was all that you felt before you were pushed aside, your body hitting the floor as you finally opened your eyes to see your master stalking towards the hunter.

the choking noises subsided as the grip of his evol loosened. you watched as he touched the hunter's hair before roughly pulling them, making her look into his eyes.

“were you really dumb enough to believe that you could escape me, huh? you really thought you could plot against me in my own home and i won’t find you? i must commend you though, you may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but you are an excellent manipulator or maybe my dumb little bunny is just too stupid, falling for your silly tricks”

just as the last sentence left his lips, he turned towards you. the trembles in your body increased as the distance between you and your master decreased.

you felt his evol coil around yourself as you were brought to your feet, body immobilised and held in place by his evol.

tears started leaking out of your eyes as you awaited your fate. a whimper escaping your trembling lips as a hand reached up towards your face. you expected a slap but instead were greeted by his rough calloused fingers wiping your tears.

“my stupid bunny, always managing to find a way to amuse me. did you really think that i would let you leave? so dumb. what am i going to do with you? should i lock you up in a room just like her, take all your freedom away? or should i punish you, show you what happens to naughty little bunnies when they disobey their masters? tell me bunny, which one do you prefer?

you knew it was a trick question and yet you shook your head wildly. glancing up at your master with tears still streaming down your eyes as soft sobs left your lips, you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

the knowledge that you were the reason for the disappointment made your sobs increase in both volume and velocity. your body trembling badly under the hold of his evol.

seeing your pitiful condition, the hunter couldn't help but blame herself, the sight of you tear stained face making her lose her temper and rebel against the energy holding her in place.

“step away from her you monster! she had no part in this!”

sylus snapped his head towards the hunter, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she fought for you as if you were hers to protect.

it was obvious that the hunter had taken a liking to you and this filled the red eyed man with fury. the thought of the hunter liking you was sending his brain into an overdrive.

he had to prove his ownership over you. needed to prove his ownership over you. if he was going to have to take you in front of the damned hunter to prove that you were his then so be it.

he used his evol to pull you towards himself, a hand snaking down to your waist as he pulled you closer until your back was resting against his chest.

“tch, you see miss hunter, that's where you are wrong. she did have a part in this, a huge part if i say so myself.”

his grip tightened over you as his other hand went to your face, turning it to an angle so that you were staring into his eyes once again.

“she should have known better than to fall for your antics. she should've been smarter and most importantly, she should've remembered who she belongs to”

with that he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was anything but gentle. his teeth pulled at your lower lip, tongue swirled around yours, lips moved against yours at a bruising pace, all while you stood there like a statue.

he pulled away from you after sometime of sucking the life straight out of your mouth. his eyes briefly finding yours before they moved to the hunter who had her jaw clenched and anger flared at the sight.

he watched in amusement as she thrashed around his evol, trying to escape the bruising grip before looking down at you once again.

you were still staring up at him with your glossy lips parted and your eyes widened in horror. at that moment you looked like the textbook definition of adorable if he may say so himself.

he used the hand holding your face to gently push a strand of stray hair behind your ear before leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice low but loud enough for both you and the hunter to hear.

“i think i finally figured you punishment out bunny. you've been such a naughty girl lately. do you know what happens to naughty girls? they get fucked roughly by their masters. im not that cruel though, so i'll make your punishment a little easier for you. since you've taken such a liking to miss hunter over there, i'll make sure she stays with you, watching you while i fuck the life out of you. you would like that, won't you bunny?

you were suddenly pushed onto your knees and the hand which was previously holding you now rested on your head.

cautiously, you peeked up at the hunter hoping to find a sign of reassurance in her eyes but to your shock, her eyes, just like your master's, were glazed with lust.

oh heavens, tonight was definitely going to be a long and tiring one for you.

[hazelfoureyes]

Cheezus CRISPUS, did you read the other works this past week?! fuuuuck...do...do I wanna fuck Adam now?! no...shh, no. fight the darkness....

Here is this week's schedule heheh

Coven: @fraugwinska @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes @macabr3-barbi3 @synamartia (banners by Syn!)

Masterlist for Kinktober (Thank you Syn!)

Kinktober 2024 - Day 7 - Amen

Lucifer takes the time to properly worship his lover's soft, inviting body.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

「warnings/promises: Lucifer x SoftAFAB!Reader, I don't want to say curvy reader because sometime out body folds not curves, no sex just Luci lavishing reader's curves and softness with kisses, because fuck we don't love them enough, short short short because it was a love letter, little pussy lick just as a treat, I will sing the praises of thick and soft thighs and bellies until you get aroused looking at your own reflection」

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

MDNI 🛕🛐

Lucifer always had you start the evening sitting on the bed, because he liked the way your stomach touched your thighs.

What good was existing if he couldn’t indulge in the pleasures of a luxurious body?

He wanted his lips to press into soft flesh. He wanted his hands to roam over bounty and curves. 

Luci began at your feet, so that he could look up at you from a proper place of worship — his knees.

Each foot doted on and caressed, hands sliding up calves that he praised for carrying his love to him. His mouth gave his gratitude up to your thighs. He kept them closed at first, and peppered the skin available with increasingly lingering pecks. His fingertips ghosted over dimpled flesh, evidence you were real and not just a painting of a well kept woman. 

“On your back, please.” He instructed and you followed without hesitation.

He didn’t know where to continue next. He never did. A starved man staring down a banquet — he wanted to grab and touch every part of you until he was sure he was satiated. 

But he had to begin somewhere, so he returned to the comfort of your thighs. With your legs open, he lied on his stomach and brought his mouth back to your body.

His lips parted and he pulled the skin of your inner thigh between them. As he drew closer to your core you could feel his smile sliding up and in.

And when his hungry mouth swiped his tongue between your folds your thighs tightened around his head.

Closing the temple doors on a devotee? He’d call it cruel if he didn’t feel his cock jump against the blanket at the feeling of your heated skin filling in the negative space of his adoration. He’d be happy to die, for the first time, smothered between your legs.

But he moved on, after a quick kiss to your bud. He lifted his head to kiss his way up. Finally, his hands could explore and squeeze the divine shape of you. 

He blanketed your stomach in unseen prayer, words whispered into the beauty of a temple grande and generous in its refuge. 

On a hot day you were his reprieve that let his mind go dull and quiet and exist in the most simple of pleasures; his head on your lap, your hands in his hair. And cold nights were made sweat inducing with his inability to tire of the way you shook and jiggled with every harsh thrust. How could he keep his eyes off of you when even your skin echoed his love?

Luci knew he must not lose focus now,  not yet. The ritual wasn’t done, and he couldn’t truly indulge until he first said grace.

Your breasts were not made for his pleasure or attention but he was grateful you allowed him to give both. His hands were cups you overflowed, inviting in the way you spilled from his palms. To be made too great to be held in even an angel’s hands, flesh and fat and bone that formed in God’s image as they saw fit. Designed by a universe far too vast to see in a single look, much like a figure he could endlessly lose himself in. A body even the king of hell couldn’t adore in a single pass.

He tried his best with his mouth to take you in as he would a round and freckled apple. 

Luci moaned into your chest, leaving marks as he found himself desperate to claim this body for his own. Like every Roman villa had a deity and an altar, he needed to make it clear he had his. A shapeshifting shrine that changed with the whims of his goddess; his lap, his hands, his tongue.

Along your neck he kissed ever soft lines until he reached your chin. 

Now, he was in church. His body resting on yours where his weeping cock now pressed into your gates. 

How many centuries had he watched man recreate such delights in stone, wood, oil, and light? And now here it was; in the flesh. 

He may have forced God to abandon Eden, but he was grateful to find his own safe, personal paradise in you.

Lucifer kissed your cheeks and then your nose. When you smiled, he smiled back. His hands wandered down to grip handfuls of your thighs as his brow rose suggestively.

“Ready to begin?”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk  , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  @fizzled-phoenix   , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl  @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[kiesbrainjuice]

hello ! may i request a « HOW THEY WOULD BE AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND ! » with fukurodani (esp bokuto 🙂‍↕️) please ? thanks have a good day ! <333

— HOW THEY WOULD BE AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND !

syn : they react to you playing volleyball in a official match and cheer you up

wc : 1.1k

cw : none

a/n : I was gonna do a fukurodani one because bokuto is my husband for-EVER 🤭 anyway enjoy your reading !

As….sat with the rest of the Fukurodani volleyball team, the gymnasium was alive with the energy of competition. The squeaking of shoes on the polished floor, the sharp smacks of palm against volleyball, and the thunderous cheers from the crowd created an electric atmosphere. Each member of the team had their own distinct reactions and interactions, adding depth and commentary to the scene unfolding on the court.

BOKUTOU KOTAROU

Bokuto couldn’t sit still. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his golden eyes wide with excitement. “There she is! That’s her!” he exclaimed, pointing eagerly as you stepped onto the court, your team gathered around for a pre-game pep talk. His teammates exchanged amused glances, knowing how much this match meant to their ace.

Konoha leaned back, smirking. “You’ve mentioned her a everytimes, Bokuto. Let’s see if she’s as good as you say.”

“She’s amazing!” Bokuto declared proudly, puffing out his chest. “Just watch!”

As the whistle blew and the game began, you immediately took center stage. Your serves were powerful, your spikes precise, and your defense unyielding. Bokuto cheered loudly at every point you scored, his voice rising above the rest of the crowd. “That’s my girl! Go Y/N!”

The rest of the Fukurodani team joined in, their cheers and claps blending with Bokuto’s. But as the match continued, the playful banter began.

“Damn, Bokuto, she’s hot!” One of his teammates commented to tease him, nudging Bokuto with a grin.

Bokuto turned into his emo mode, that alert Akaashi. “…Of course she is!” he retorted, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably by just looking hurt. “She’s perfect…”

Sarukui laughed. “Careful, Bokuto, we might steal her away from you.”

Bokuto’s eyes narrowed as a pout appeared on his face. “Not a chance! She’s mine!”

The teasing continued, but Bokuto’s focus was entirely on you. He watched every move you made, his heart swelling with pride and admiration. You were fierce and graceful, commanding the court with a presence that left no doubt of your skill. “I taught her that!” he often retorted.

As the match drew to a close, your team clinched the victory with your final, resounding spike. The gym erupted in cheers, but none louder than Bokuto’s. He jumped up, pumping his fist in the air. “You did it! That’s my girl!”

After the match, as the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to Bokuto and his teammates. Bokuto immediately pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet. “You were amazing, Y/N! Just like I knew you’d be!”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thanks, Bo’. It means a lot that you were here.”

Konoha approached, offering you a high five. “Great game, Y/N. You’re as impressive as Bokuto said.”

“Thanks, Konoha,” you replied, smiling warmly. But when he approached a bit more, Bokuto stopped him with his hand on his shoulder. The rest of the team offered their congratulations, each one adding a bit of teasing directed at Bokuto as you tried not to let him fall into his emo phase again.

“So, when are you joining our practices?” Washio asked with a grin. “We could use someone with your skills.

Bokuto wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Hey!!”

KEIJI AKAASHI

Akaashi was composed, his keen eyes analyzing the game as soon as it started. He sat quietly, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the exuberant Bokuto beside him. “There she is!” Bokuto shouted, pointing as you stepped onto the court. Akaashi’s gaze followed Bokuto’s finger, a small smile appearing on his lips as he saw you join your team.

“She looks ready,” Akaashi remarked quietly, his voice filled with a soft pride that didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates.

Konoha leaned in, a smirk on his face. “So, this is the girl who’s got Akaashi all flustered, huh?”

Akaashi’s cheeks tinted slightly pink, but he maintained his composure. “I’m not flustered. I’m just…supportive.”

Bokuto laughed, giving Akaashi a playful nudge. “Come on, Akaashi, admit it. She’s amazing.”

Akaashi’s smile widened a fraction. “She is.”

As the match began, Akaashi watched you closely, his analytical mind appreciating your skill. Your serves were sharp, your spikes powerful, and your teamwork seamless. Every point you scored drew a cheer from the Fukurodani team, with Bokuto leading the chorus.

“Go Y/N! You’ve got this!” Bokuto shouted, his enthusiasm infectious. Even Akaashi found himself clapping and cheering more than usual.

As the game progressed, the teasing began. “Hey, Akaashi,” Sarukui called out, “she’s really something. You better watch out, or one of us might try to steal her.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow, his expression amused. “Good luck with that,” he replied calmly. “She’s quite focused on her game.”

“Focused on you too, from what I hear,” Konoha added with a grin. “You’re a lucky guy.”

Akaashi’s eyes softened as he watched you dive for a difficult save, successfully keeping the ball in play. “I am,” he admitted, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gymnasium.

When the final point was scored and your team emerged victorious, the gym erupted in cheers. Akaashi stood up, clapping politely but with a proud smile on his face. “Well done,” he murmured to himself, knowing you couldn’t hear him but feeling the need to say it anyway.

After the match, as the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to Akaashi and his teammates. Akaashi met you halfway, a gentle smile on his lips. “You played brilliantly,” he said, his voice warm.

You smiled back, slightly breathless but clearly happy. “Thanks, ‘kashi. It means a lot that you were here.”

Bokuto bounded over, practically bouncing with energy. “You were awesome, Y/N! Just like Akaashi told everyone!”

“Thanks, Bokuto,” you replied with a laugh, high-fiving him. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

The rest of the team offered their congratulations, with the usual teasing. “So, Akaashi,” Washio began, “when are you bringing her to our practices? We could use her energy.”

Akaashi chuckled, shaking his head. “She has her own team to focus on. But she’s always welcome to watch our games.”

You nodded, smiling warmly at Akaashi. “I’d love to. As long as you promise to keep coming to my matches.”

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[keehomania]

roses (장미) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* WC: 11.9K

✧.* SYN: polar opposites were said to attract, but nobody specified when. no matter how beautiful, no matter how enchanting—sometimes, they were just made to repel.

✧.* 16+

roses were meant to be the symbol of love—romance captured in its purest form. their petals, silken and fragile, were light against the fingertips, and their colors, from the softest blush to the deepest crimson, seemed to glow with a kind of inner fire. roses were everything beautiful, everything tender. but to you, they were a lie.

for every rose, no matter how lovely, was laced with thorns. they were subtle, hiding just beneath the surface, waiting for a careless touch to remind you of their presence. they never scarred your fingers on purpose—how could they? the flowers themselves had no say in the sharpness of their defenses. and yet, they always found a way to mar your skin, leaving behind thin lines of pain, tiny rivers of blood mingling with the red of the petals. it was as if the rose took your blood as payment for its beauty, demanding a piece of you in exchange for the admiration it commanded. you couldn't see them as others did. where others saw a token of love, you saw a warning—a reminder that beauty often came with a cost, and that love, no matter how sweet, could hurt just as deeply.

you hated roses. not because they weren't beautiful, but because their beauty was tainted by the inevitability of pain. they were a paradox, a contradiction you could never reconcile. to love them was to accept the wounds they left behind, and you had no desire to be wounded. jungkook, with his warm eyes and gentle smile, knew this about you. he knew it better than anyone.

when you first started dating, he surprised you with a bouquet of red roses, each bloom more perfect than the last. they were vibrant, luxurious, their scent intoxicating in its richness. you smiled when you saw them, because how could you not? they were beautiful, after all, and he had chosen them with you in mind. but beneath your smile, a familiar unease churned. nothing that truly loved you, no matter how beautiful, would never hurt you. you didn't want to hurt his feelings, didn't want to dampen the joy in his eyes, so you accepted them with as much grace as you could muster. you held them close, careful not to let your fingers brush too harshly against the thorns. you placed them in water, tended to them, watched as their petals unfurled further, revealing their full splendor. yet, no matter how much care you gave them, they remained a symbol of everything you couldn't bring yourself to love.

the roses, with their beauty and their thorns, became a silent metaphor for your fears. they were a constant reminder that love—true, deep love—wasn't without its dangers. that even the most beautiful things could hurt you if you weren't careful. and so, while you couldn't see the beauty in the roses, you saw it in jungkook. you saw it in the way he beamed when he handed them to you, in the tenderness of his voice when he asked if you liked them. you saw the care he took in choosing them, the thoughtfulness behind his actions, and you loved him all the more for it. but the roses themselves? they remained, as ever, a source of quiet torment.

it wasn't until after a few dates that you finally confessed the truth. you remember the moment vividly—the way the words tumbled out of your mouth, hesitant yet firm, as you told him you didn't like roses. you hadn't intended to hurt him, and you could see the brief flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed slightly. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his voice tinged with regret. his fingers traced the edge of your hand, a silent apology in his touch.

you sighed, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “i didn’t want to disappoint you. you were so thoughtful, i just didn’t have the heart to say it.”

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he’d wronged you in some unforgivable way. “i didn’t know.”

“it’s okay,” you assured him gently, lifting his chin so that his eyes met yours. “i kept every single one.” his eyes softened at your words, and a small, sheepish smile curved his lips. “really?”

“really,” you confirmed, squeezing his hand. “i may not love roses, but i love the thought behind them.”

the roses stopped after that day. in their place came something simpler, something that held a different kind of beauty. jungkook began to bring you dandelions, plucked from wherever he could find them, their bright yellow heads bobbing on slender green stems. they were humble, unpretentious, the kind of flower people often overlooked or dismissed as weeds. but to you, they were perfect.

you loved the way they scattered in the wind, carrying with them the weight of a thousand wishes. every time you held one in your hand, you couldn't resist closing your eyes, drawing in a breath, and blowing gently, sending the delicate seeds spiraling into the air. with each breath, you made a wish—small, secret hopes you whispered to the universe, trusting that somehow, some way, they would be heard. jungkook always watched you with a soft smile as you did this, his eyes never leaving your face. “what did you wish for?” he would ask, his voice warm and curious.

but you never told him. you always shook your head, a playful smile on your lips as you teased him with your silence. “i can’t tell you,” you’d say, “or it won’t come true.”

he would laugh, a rich, melodic sound that made your heart feel lighter than air. “one day, you’ll have to tell me,” he’d insist, though there was no urgency in his words—just the quiet patience of someone willing to wait as long as it took.

and maybe, one day, you would tell him. But for now, you kept your wishes close, letting them flutter away with the dandelion seeds, drifting on the breeze like tiny prayers. in truth, you always wished for the same thing—that you could hold on to this moment, to this feeling, forever. that the love you shared with jungkook, so pure and gentle, would last as long as there were dandelions to carry your wishes. you found comfort in the simplicity of the dandelions. there were no thorns, no hidden dangers. they were honest in their imperfection, and in that honesty, you found a kind of beauty that roses could never offer. the dandelions became a symbol of your love—humble, enduring, and free from the pain that had always accompanied the roses.

and every time jungkook brought you one, it felt like a promise—a promise that he understood, that he knew what you needed even before you did. it was a promise that he would never bring you pain, that he would love you in all the ways you needed to be loved, without the thorns, without the scars. you held on to that promise, just as you held on to each dandelion he gave you, treasuring it for what it was—a gift, not just of love, but of understanding. and as the seeds danced away on the wind, you knew that your wishes were safe, carried on the breath of a love that was as gentle and enduring as the flowers themselves.

“here’s your shirt,” you murmured, handing him the neatly folded fabric that felt heavier in your hands than it should have. the weight of finality clung to it, as if the fibers themselves had absorbed the tension between you, the countless unspoken words and unresolved feelings woven into the threads. you had gathered the last of jungkook's things, the remnants of a love that had once filled your home with warmth and light but now seemed to haunt it, like echoes of laughter long gone.

he took the shirt from you without looking up, his fingers brushing yours in a way that used to send a shiver of excitement through you. now, it only brought a dull ache, a reminder of what was slipping away. he had changed so much over the past year. the bright-eyed boy who once looked at you as if you hung the stars had morphed into someone distant, cold. his eyes, once filled with a warmth that made you feel seen, had grown dim, as though the light within him had burned out, leaving nothing but the shadows behind.

jungkook had quickly become the tear in your eye and the tear in your heart, a source of pain that gnawed at you from the inside out. he was no longer the man you fell in love with, but a stranger wearing his skin. you had watched the change happen slowly at first, like a creeping frost on a windowpane, but then it had sped up, and before you knew it, the warmth between you had been replaced by an icy silence. it was a silence that had once been comfortable, a shared space where words weren't needed because the understanding between you was so deep. now, it was a chasm, wide and unbridgeable, filled with all the things you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

the end had come faster than you had anticipated, but perhaps that was how these things always happened. you tried to brace yourself, to prepare for the inevitable, telling yourself over and over that not everything was forever. it was a mantra you repeated to numb the pain, to convince yourself that you could accept it. but how were you supposed to accept losing him when every part of you still clung to the hope that things could be different? that somehow, the man you loved was still in there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and distance?

you watched as he turned away from you, his manner dismissive in that distinctly masculine, emotionally restrained way that cut you deeper than any harsh word ever could. It was as if he had already moved on, as if this—your heartbreak—was nothing more than a trivial inconvenience. you knew he felt the weight of it too, that he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe, but his silence was a wall, thick and impenetrable, that you couldn’t break through no matter how hard you tried.

he was about to walk out of your life for the last time, and you couldn't let him go without trying, just one more time, to reach him. to make him understand what this meant to you. the words were heavy on your tongue, almost too painful to speak, but you forced them out, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “i wished,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. the words caught in your throat, and you had to swallow hard to keep going. “i wished for us to be forever.”

the simplicity of the statement hung in the air between you, raw and vulnerable. it was the truth, stripped of all pretense, the most honest thing you had said in a long time. it was the wish you had made countless times, with dandelion seeds drifting on the wind, with every shooting star that crossed the night sky, with every single breath you had taken while lying beside him in the quiet of the night. it was the wish you had carried in your heart since the beginning, even as things began to unravel, even as the distance between you grew.

you saw the slight falter in his step as the words reached him. he stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to you, and for a moment, you thought he might say something. you held your breath, waiting for the sound of his voice, for anything that would tell you he still cared, that he still felt something. but the silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, and you realized with a sinking heart that there was nothing left to say. he let the silence fill the space between you, allowing it to drown out your words, as if by not responding, he could erase them from existence.

the seconds dragged on like hours, the silence suffocating you as you stood there, waiting for a response that would never come. jungkook knew you were behind him, could probably feel the weight of your gaze on his back, but he didn't turn around. he didn't offer you the comfort of his eyes, the soft reassurance of his voice. Instead, he walked back inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty spaces of your heart.

you stared at the closed door, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to cry. not there, not now. you had given him everything—your love, your trust, your dreams of a future together. and now, you had nothing left to give. the door had closed, not just on this chapter of your life, but on the possibility of ever finding solace in his arms again. the silence that followed was no longer comforting. it was deafening, a void that pressed in on you from all sides, reminding you of what you had lost. and in that silence, you knew the truth—you were no longer there. not in his heart, not in his mind. the person you had been, the person who had loved him with every fiber of her being, was gone, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell of who you once were.

you forced yourself to leave, to walk away from the door that had once opened so easily for you. each step felt like a struggle, as if the weight of your heartbreak was pulling you down, making it hard to move forward. but you kept going, because you had no other choice. you couldn't stay in that place any longer, surrounded by memories that would only serve to haunt you. as you stepped out into the cool evening air, the world felt different—dimmer, less vibrant. It was as if the color had been drained from everything, leaving behind only shades of gray. the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of roses from a nearby garden. you inhaled sharply, the scent stinging your senses like the thorns that had once pierced your skin. and just like those thorns, the memories of your time with jungkook would leave scars—scars that would take time to heal, if they ever did at all.

you walked away, leaving behind the man who had once been your everything, and with each step, you felt the weight of the past slowly lifting from your shoulders. but the pain remained, sharp and aching, a reminder that some wounds run too deep to ever fully heal. and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if the wish you had once held so close to your heart had been nothing more than a foolish dream, carried away on the wind like dandelion seeds, never to come true.

when you returned home, the silence greeted you like an unwelcome guest, settling into every corner of the house, amplifying the emptiness that seemed to have grown overnight. the house felt colder, emptier than it ever had before, as though the very walls had absorbed the sorrow that weighed so heavily on your heart. and yet, nothing had changed. the furniture was still in its place, the same pictures hung on the walls, the same sunlight filtered through the windows, casting the same patterns on the floor. everything was as it had been, and yet, it all felt different—foreign, somehow, like you were a stranger in your own home.

you didn’t know why you had expected it to be any different. why had you thought, even for a moment, that the world would stop spinning on its axis just because your heart had been shattered? the absurdity of the thought struck you as both laughable and tragic. your heart was broken, yet the world found a way to keep spinning, indifferent to your pain. the birds still sang outside, the traffic still moved along the streets, and somewhere, people were still laughing, still loving, still living their lives as if nothing had happened. the world carried on, and you were left to pick up the pieces of a life that had been torn apart.

as you moved through the house, your gaze fell on the roses he had given you, still thriving in the crystal vases where you had carefully placed them. they stood proudly, their petals full and vibrant, a stark contrast to the withered dandelions that lay beside them. you had been diligent in changing the water, making sure the roses had everything they needed to flourish. and flourish they did, their beauty almost mocking in its perfection, as if to remind you of the love that had once been so full of promise.

but the dandelions—oh, the dandelions—they had not fared as well. you had taken extra care of them, watering them more frequently than you ever had with any other flowers, desperately trying to keep them alive. they were delicate, fragile things, just like the wishes you had whispered into the wind, and you had wanted them to last, to hold on to their golden beauty for just a little longer. but no matter how much care you gave them, they still found a way to wilt, their once bright yellow heads now drooping, petals shriveled and brown. they had died on you, leaving you with nothing but the memory of the hopes they had carried.

it was a bitter realization—one that struck deep, piercing through the numbness that had settled in your chest. you needed to stop watering dead flowers. the thought echoed in your mind, a painful truth you had been avoiding for far too long. the dandelions were gone, just like the love you had once shared with jungkook, and no amount of water or care could bring them back. it was over, and you had to let go. but letting go felt like an impossibility, like trying to breathe under water—each attempt only filled your lungs with more pain.

your eyes returned to the roses, and you realized just how little had changed. their beauty did not bring you any comfort. instead, it filled you with a deep, aching sense of emptiness. their perfection was a lie, a facade that hid the thorns lying just beneath the surface. thorns that had always been there, even when you hadn’t seen them, ready to pierce through the skin at the slightest touch. they were beautiful, yes, but their beauty came at a cost—one that you had paid dearly.

your heart sank as you reached out for the roses, your hand trembling slightly as you wrapped your fingers around the stems. you felt every prick, the way the thorns dug into the tender flesh of your palm, piercing through the surface with sharp, unyielding precision. the pain should have made you flinch, should have forced you to pull back, but instead, you tightened your grip, welcoming the sensation. it was almost a relief to feel something other than the hollow numbness that had been consuming you.

you watched, detached, as your blood began to seep from the wounds, mingling with the bright red petals, the crimson droplets staining the clear water. it was a sight both grotesque and mesmerizing—your life force mingling with the very thing that had symbolized your love, now tainted and corrupted. and yet, for the first time, it didn’t hurt. the pain was there, yes, but it was distant, as though it belonged to someone else, a stranger who had nothing to do with you.

you loosened your grip, letting the stems slip from your fingers and fall back into the vase. the blood on your hand began to dry, a faint stinging sensation left behind as a reminder of the thorns' touch. but the pain no longer mattered. it was just another sensation in a world that had become a blur of emotions too complex to untangle. you turned away from the flowers, leaving them behind as you walked further into the house, each step echoing in the silence that had settled around you. the rooms felt colder, the air thicker, as if the very atmosphere had shifted, mourning the loss that had taken place within those walls. but there was nothing left to mourn.

you slept. it was easier that way, easier to slip into the quiet oblivion of dreams where reality couldn’t reach you, where the sharp edges of your pain were softened, blurred by the fog of sleep. you slept because every time you woke up, the world was colder, more hostile, and you were too weak to face it. the bed, once shared, now felt like a vast, empty expanse, a void that swallowed you whole. the sheets still carried his scent, faint but there, a cruel reminder of what was lost. so, you buried yourself beneath them, cocooning yourself in a fragile barrier against the world.

every time you woke up, you were confronted with the same brutal truth: he was gone. the realization came slowly, like a wave that started far off in the distance, gaining strength as it approached until it crashed over you, relentless and unforgiving. it would hit you as you blinked yourself awake, in that brief, disorienting moment where you didn’t quite remember where you were. you reached out instinctively, your hand searching the space beside you, but it met only the cool emptiness of the sheets. the ache in your chest deepened, a hollow, gnawing pain that seemed to settle into your very bones.

you felt the urge to call him, to reach out to him, to hear his voice on the other end of the line—steady, warm, reassuring. your fingers would hover over your phone, trembling with the need to dial his number, to send a message, anything to break the silence that pressed down on you. but what was there to say? what could you possibly tell him that hadn’t already been left unspoken? the words died in your throat, choked by the knowledge that it wouldn’t change anything. he was no longer there, and no amount of pleading or wishing would bring him back.

and so, you turned away from the phone, sinking back into the bed, pulling the covers over your head as though you could block out the world itself. sleep became your refuge, your escape from the brutal clarity of consciousness. in sleep, you could forget, if only for a little while. in sleep, the weight of reality lifted, and you drifted into a world where things were as they should be, where he was still there, still yours.

but every time you woke up, the reality would crash back down on you, harder and more unbearable than before. the bed felt colder, the room emptier, and the silence heavier. it was as if the universe itself was conspiring to remind you of what you had lost, what had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, impossible to grasp and hold on to. the disbelief settled into your chest like a stone, heavy and cold. it was easier to cling to that disbelief than to accept the truth, easier to let yourself be carried away by the numbness than to face the searing pain that lay just beneath the surface. you couldn’t believe it had happened, refused to let yourself truly accept that he was gone. had it happened? had you really lost him? the questions circled in your mind, relentless, unanswered, each one twisting the knife a little deeper into your heart.

you were confused, disoriented, lost in a labyrinth of grief that you didn’t know how to navigate. the world outside seemed distant, almost unreal, as though you were floating through it without truly being a part of it. the memories of him lingered like ghosts, haunting every corner of your mind, and you couldn’t tell where the past ended and the present began. everything was a blur, a swirl of emotions too tangled to unravel.

and so, you went back to sleep, because in sleep, the lines between reality and dreams were blurred, and you could still see him, still feel him. in your dreams, he was there, whole and real, his smile warm and bright, his touch gentle. in your dreams, he hadn’t left you, hadn’t walked away, and the world was still as it should be. you clung to those moments, those fleeting glimpses of a world that no longer existed, because they were all you had left. in sleep, the disbelief settled into temporary joy, a fragile, fleeting happiness that only existed in the depths of your mind. you knew it wasn’t real, knew that it would shatter the moment you woke up, but you held on to it anyway, desperate for any scrap of comfort. you would see him in your dreams, and for those precious moments, everything would be okay. you would laugh with him, talk with him, hold him, and it was as if nothing had changed.

but then you would wake up, and the illusion would fade, leaving you more broken than before. the bed would feel colder, the room quieter, the silence more suffocating. and you would lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself to get up, to face the day, but the weight of your denial would pull you back under. so you would close your eyes again, praying for sleep to take you, to pull you back into that world where he still existed, where you could pretend, if only for a little while, that everything was still the same. and so, you slept. and slept. and slept. because it was easier than facing the reality of a world without him.

jungkook shut down. it wasn’t something he consciously decided to do, but rather an instinctual retreat into himself, like a wounded animal seeking shelter in the darkest corner of the forest. his emotions were a storm that threatened to tear him apart, so he did the only thing he knew how—he numbed himself. he buried the pain deep, far beneath the surface, where he hoped it would never see the light of day.

his days became a monotonous blur of routine. he went through the motions, each one devoid of the color and warmth that had once defined his life. there was a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth that never seemed to go away, a constant reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in his heart. he woke up, dressed himself, and headed to the gym, as if the physical exertion could somehow drown out the chaos in his mind.

the gym became a sanctuary, the one place where he could lose himself in the rhythmic clanging of weights and the steady thump of his heartbeat in his ears. he lifted, the strain on his muscles a welcome distraction from the thoughts that threatened to consume him. he ran, his feet pounding against the treadmill in a desperate attempt to outrun the memories of you. but no matter how fast or how far he ran, they always threatened to catch up with him, lingering at the edges of his consciousness like a persistent shadow.

he pushed himself harder, ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they would give out beneath him. he jogged, then walked, then jogged again, anything to keep his body moving, to keep his mind from spiraling into the dark places he feared. the pain in his muscles was a dull, constant ache, but it was nothing compared to the void inside him, the hollow ache that seemed to have settled in his chest.

when he left the gym, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, he found himself wandering aimlessly, as if searching for something—anything—that could fill the emptiness. he went to the market, seeking the comfort of familiarity in the mundane task of picking out fresh fruit. but even there, you haunted him. he would see the watermelons stacked neatly on the shelves, their bright, green rinds a stark contrast to the dullness of his mood, and he would be reminded of how much you loved them. he could almost hear your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how sweet and refreshing they were on a hot summer day. the memory would twist the knife in his chest, and he would force himself to look away, to walk away, leaving the market with nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth.

nights were the worst. the silence of his apartment was suffocating, the loneliness almost unbearable. he started going to bars with his friends, seeking solace in the mind-numbing effects of alcohol. it was easier that way—easier to drown his sorrows in liquor, to forget, even if it was just for a little while. he would order round after round, paying for everyone, desperate to keep the drinks flowing, to keep the laughter and noise around him as a buffer against the silence that awaited him at home.

his friends would cheer, their voices loud and boisterous, their smiles wide and carefree. he would force himself to smile along with them, to laugh at their jokes, even as he felt the icy tendrils of grief winding tighter around his heart. the alcohol would dull the edges of his pain, make the world seem softer, more bearable, and for a few fleeting hours, he could almost forget. but he knew it wouldn’t last. it never did. he clung to those moments of reprieve, no matter how brief, no matter how hollow they left him feeling afterward. because as long as he could keep the pain at bay, as long as he could pretend, just for a little while, that he wasn’t completely shattered inside, he could survive. he needed those moments to last, needed them to stretch out into the dark hours of the night, to carry him through until the morning light.

but even as he forced himself to keep moving, to keep pushing forward, there was a part of him that knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. the weight of his grief was a constant, oppressive presence, and no amount of physical exertion or alcohol could truly erase it. he was running on borrowed time, and deep down, he feared the day when the numbness would wear off, and he would be left to face the full force of his emotions. so he shut down, closed himself off, and went through the motions, day after day, night after night. because it was easier than feeling, easier than confronting the reality of what he had lost. he couldn’t afford to break down, couldn’t afford to let himself fall apart, because he didn’t know if he would ever be able to put himself back together again.

you couldn’t cling to the false reality you had carefully constructed any longer. the threads holding it together unraveled, leaving you exposed to the raw truth you had desperately tried to ignore. the more you tried to force yourself back into the numb comfort of denial, the more reality clawed its way into your consciousness, demanding to be acknowledged. “why me?” the question echoed in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. you couldn’t understand how this had happened to you, how your life had spiraled into a pit of despair so deep you couldn’t see the bottom. what had you done to deserve this? what crime had you committed that was so terrible, so unforgivable, that you were now being punished in such a cruel and merciless way?

your thoughts were a chaotic swirl of anger and confusion, a storm that raged within you with no outlet, no direction. the more you tried to reason with yourself, the more frustrated you became. who could you blame for this? was it your fault? his? the universe’s? the questions tormented you, gnawing at your sanity, and with every passing minute, the fury inside you grew stronger, more uncontrollable.

there was nobody to lash out at, nobody to direct your anger toward. you were alone, left to wrestle with the seething emotions that had taken up residence in your heart. and every time your gaze fell upon the roses, still standing tall in their vase, they seemed to mock you, their vibrant beauty a contrast to the darkness that had settled over your life. they thrived, even as everything else around you withered away. their presence was a constant reminder of the love that had once been and the pain that remained. you had every right to hate them.

your hands trembled as you reached for the television remote, the plastic cool and unyielding against your skin. without thinking, you hurled it across the room, your vision blurring with the force of your anger. the vase shattered into a thousand tiny shards of glass, scattering across the floor in a sparkling array of destruction. but the roses—those damned roses—remained intact, their petals untouched, as if the chaos around them couldn’t reach their perfection.

you stared at the mess you had made, your chest heaving with ragged breaths, but there were no tears left to shed. the sadness that had once consumed you had been swallowed up by a burning rage, a fire that seemed to scorch everything in its path. how could he do this to you? how could he walk away, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life that no longer made sense? the injustice of it all fueled the inferno in your heart, and you found yourself consumed by a single, overpowering desire: revenge. you wanted him to suffer, to feel the guilt that you believed should be eating away at him every second of every day. you wanted him to see you, to be reminded of everything he had thrown away, and you wanted him to beg for your forgiveness. if you couldn’t have peace, then you would have the satisfaction of knowing that he didn’t either.

with newfound resolve, you began to ready yourself. you meticulously prepared, every brush of makeup, every stroke of mascara, a declaration of war against the version of yourself that had crumbled in the wake of heartbreak. you refused to be the victim any longer. you would go out, find the pieces of yourself that still remained, and piece them together into something new—something that would draw his eyes back to you and make him realize what he had lost. you chose the bar carefully, the one where you knew he was a regular, where the chances of seeing him were high. as you slipped into a dress that clung to your figure, accentuating every curve, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. but the woman who looked back at you was a stranger—her eyes were sharp, glittering with the fury that had replaced every other emotion. the void was gone, buried beneath layers of anger and the determination to make him pay for the pain he had caused.

your heart hammered in your chest, a drumbeat of anticipation, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when you saw him. would he recognize you? would he see the fire in your eyes and understand that it was his doing? or would he turn away, indifferent to the transformation you had undergone? as you made your way to the door, your heels clicking against the floor, you clung to the hope that he would be there, that he would see you and fall to his knees in regret. but even as you tried to convince yourself that this was the outcome you wanted, a small, uncertain voice whispered in the back of your mind, asking if this was truly who you had become—someone who thrived on anger and revenge, who found solace in the idea of another’s suffering.

but you pushed that voice aside, determined to see this through. the fury in your veins was the only thing that felt real anymore, the only thing that kept you going. and so, you walked out the door, ready to confront the man who had once been your everything, even if it meant losing the last remnants of yourself in the process.

jungkook’s world had narrowed to a single point of focus—the relentless, unyielding ache inside him that refused to be named or tamed. it simmered beneath his skin, a beast with no outlet, coiled and ready to strike. the gym had become his sanctuary, a place where he could pound his fists into the heavy bag until his knuckles were raw and bleeding, until the sharp pain in his hands was all that existed in his mind. but even that wasn’t enough.

he hit the bag harder, his bare fists connecting with brutal force, over and over again. the sting of torn skin, the dull throb in his bones—none of it registered. all he knew was the rhythmic, punishing impact of his fists against the leather, the way his breath came in ragged gasps, the way his blood seemed to boil beneath the surface. he didn’t care that his knuckles were split, didn’t notice the way his sweat dripped off him in steady streams, matting his hair to his forehead and soaking through his clothes. he was beyond caring, beyond feeling anything other than the rage that consumed him.

he didn’t realize how loud the sound of his fists smashing into the bag had become, didn’t notice the way other gym-goers had started to watch, their eyes widening at the intensity of his aggression. they stared, some concerned, others keeping their distance, wary of the energy radiating off him in waves. but jungkook was oblivious, his focus entirely on the bag in front of him, as if it held all the answers to the chaos in his mind.

his thoughts were a tangled mess, a storm that raged without end. why was this happening to him? what had he done to deserve this? he needed answers, needed someone to blame, but the more he searched for a reason, the more elusive it became. the frustration gnawed at him, clawing at the inside of his chest until he felt like he might explode. he couldn’t make sense of the turmoil inside him, couldn’t find a way to quiet the incessant pounding of his heart or the restless tapping of his feet as he stood there, trying to regain control.

jungkook’s fingers twitched, playing with the edges of his gym towel, twisting it into knots as if the physical action could somehow unravel the knots inside his own head. his heart raced, a frantic beat that seemed to echo in the silence of his mind, a silence that only made him angrier. he hated the quiet, hated the way it left him alone with his thoughts, with the voices that whispered all sorts of things to him, things he didn’t want to hear, things that only made the fury inside him burn hotter.

he needed an escape, a way to release the tension that coiled inside him like a spring wound too tight. but nothing worked—nothing took the edge off the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment. he needed to feel something other than this gnawing, hollow rage, needed to drown out the noise in his head, even if only for a little while.

so he did what he always did when the pressure became too much to bear—he turned to the only temporary relief he knew. the bar called to him, a beacon of false hope in the darkness that had become his life. there, among the noise and the laughter, the clinking of glasses and the buzz of conversation, he could lose himself, if only for a little while. the alcohol would burn away the edges of his anger, would blur the sharp lines of his thoughts until they were nothing more than a dull ache in the back of his mind. he craved that numbness, the brief respite it offered, even if it never lasted.

as he left the gym, his mind was still running wild, the voices still whispering insidiously, feeding his anger, pushing him to the edge. he could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hands still shook slightly from the exertion, the way his heart pounded with unresolved fury. but he pushed it all down, burying it deep inside as he made his way to the bar, seeking out the oblivion he so desperately needed. the world outside seemed indifferent to his turmoil—the sun still shone, people still went about their day, oblivious to the storm that raged within him. and that only made him angrier, made him feel even more isolated, as if he was the only one trapped in this endless cycle of anger and pain. but the bar was waiting, the promise of temporary relief dangling just out of reach, and he latched onto that hope, no matter how fleeting, no matter how false. it was all he had left.

you stepped into the bar with a forced sense of confidence, your heels clicking against the worn wooden floor as you entered. the dim lighting cast shadows over your face, but you convinced yourself that every pair of eyes followed your every move. you had to believe it, even if it wasn’t true. you were determined to be the center of attention, to show the world, and more importantly, to show him what he had let go.

as you approached the bar, you held your head high, the tension in your shoulders disguising the fragility beneath. the bartender caught your eye, and you ordered your drink with a voice that sounded stronger than you felt. the glass was cool in your hand, a momentary relief as you took a sip. the burn of the alcohol was sharp, a distraction from the thoughts swirling in your mind.

with every sip, the anger that had fueled you began to dissipate, leaving a hollow space in its wake. the bar's noise faded into the background, and your thoughts grew louder, clearer. you began to think—really think—about everything that had happened. the whirlwind of emotions, the moments you thought were forever, and the sudden, jarring end that left you lost.

the more you thought, the more you began to pray. it started as a whisper in your mind, a plea to the universe, to whatever force controlled fate. you begged for a chance to undo the past, to turn back time, to rewrite your story. you wished for him, for the universe to bring him back into your life, for the pain to dissolve and be replaced with the love you once knew.

your thoughts spiraled, one after another, questioning everything. what if you had done something differently? what if you had fought harder, loved him more, or been more forgiving? what if this was all a test, and you were meant to prove that your love was stronger than the pain? you pondered every possibility, every twist of fate that could have led to a different ending. the more you thought, the more desperate your prayers became. you weren’t just asking—you were begging, pleading with whatever power might be listening. you needed him back; you needed him to see you, to realize what he had walked away from. you would do anything, give anything, to have him in your life again.

as you stared into the depths of your glass, the alcohol no longer brought relief. Instead, it amplified the ache in your chest, the void that only he could fill. the world around you faded, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your prayers, and the unbearable longing that consumed you. you wanted to make it clear, to whatever force might be listening, that you would do anything—everything—to have him back. you needed him to know, needed the universe to know, that your love was stronger than the pain, stronger than the anger, and that you were willing to fight for it, no matter the cost.

jungkook walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air biting at his skin, but he barely felt it. his thoughts were too loud, drowning out the world around him. he replayed every moment with you in his mind, dissecting each word, each touch, each mistake. the pain in his chest was sharp, a constant reminder of what he had lost. he wondered if there was anything he could do to have you back, even for a fleeting moment.

he knew the truth, though. he knew he couldn’t have you the way he used to. he had been selfish, too caught up in his own world, too focused on his own fears. he had pushed you away, bit by bit, until there was nothing left to hold onto. you were the opposite of him in so many ways. where he was sharp and jagged, you were soft and warm. where he built walls, you built bridges. you knew how to fulfill wishes, how to bring hope to the hopeless. that was why people were drawn to you, why they loved you.

but he had pushed you away, scared you off with his sharpness, with the very things he thought were protecting him. he often hurt people, unintentionally but inevitably, and it was exactly how he lost you. he hated himself for it, for letting his fears get in the way of something so beautiful. he was beautiful on the outside, and you knew it. but the more he had let you in, the more he found himself hurting you, even if it wasn’t intentional. you had a way of mingling with the night sky, floating in the air in an etherreal way that gave those around you a sense of relief, as if their wishes were being fulfilled, whereas he was nothing of the sort. he was pretty, and with beauty, there was the inevitable pain attached to it.

he needed you, even if it was just for a moment. he needed to see you, to feel the warmth of your presence, to remind himself of what he had once had and lost. his mind raced with thoughts of how he could make it happen, what he could do to have you back, even if it was just for a second. he would give anything to look at you, to see the way you smiled, to remember what it felt like to be loved by you. as he approached the bar, his heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and dread. he hadn’t planned on seeing you here, hadn’t even thought it was possible. but as he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, and there you were, sitting at the bar, a vision of everything he had lost.

the world seemed to stop for a moment as he took you in. you were beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered, but it wasn’t just your appearance that drew him in. it was the way you carried yourself, the way you seemed to light up the room even when you were sitting there alone. he could see the sadness in your eyes, the way you sipped your drink like it was a lifeline, and his heart ached for you, for the pain he knew he had caused. he wanted to go to you, to say something, anything, but his feet were rooted to the ground. he couldn’t move, couldn’t bring himself to take that step. what would he say? what could he say that would make any of this better? he had lost his chance, and now all he could do was stand there, watching you, begging the universe for just one more moment.

but the universe was silent, offering him no answers, no solace. all he could do was watch as you sat there, beautiful and sad, and wonder how he had ever let you go. the weight of his regret was crushing, and he knew that no amount of wishing could change what had happened. he had lost you, and now all he could do was live with the pain of that loss. so he stood there, frozen in place, watching you from across the room, the distance between you feeling insurmountable. he didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word. he just watched, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he would never have you the way he once did, that the only thing he could do now was remember, and regret, and wish for things that could never be.

the neon lights of the city danced in the puddles of rainwater, casting an eerie glow across the deserted streets. it was a night much like any other, except for the quiet ache in your chest that had been lingering for months. the rain had picked up just as you stepped out of the bar, the droplets mingling with the tears that had been threatening to spill since the moment you saw jungkook standing by the entrance. the silence between you had been deafening, a cruel contrast to the laughter and shared secrets that once filled the air. now, you found yourself walking in the same direction as him, the cold rain a pitiful excuse for the chills that ran down your spine.

his eyes met yours, a silent question hanging in the air. he offered a tentative smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and you felt your heart stumble. without a word, you turned and ducked into the nearest alley, the rain a veil hiding your desperate hope that he’d follow. the seconds stretched out like a tightrope between you, each drop of water echoing in the silence until you heard his footsteps approaching.

he stepped into the alley, the rain soaking his dark hair and tracing lines down his cheeks. he looked at you, his gaze intense and searching, as if trying to read the story etched on your face. you took a deep breath, the scent of wet concrete and rain-soaked asphalt filling your lungs, and closed the distance between you. the rain grew heavier, but the only sound you heard was the thundering of your heart, the universe seemingly holding its breath for what was to come.

jungkook reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed the wet strands of hair from your face. his touch sent a jolt through your body, a reminder of the electricity that had once danced between you. his thumb traced the outline of your jaw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. you leaned into his touch, your own hand finding its way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. it was a silent conversation, a dance of longing and regret that needed no words.

with a soft sigh, you raised your face to his, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. it was a kiss that held the weight of a thousand unsaid i love yous, a silent apology for the time lost and the chances squandered. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the rain continued to pound against the two of you, a cocoon of pain and passion. the alley was a sanctuary for your fleeting reunion, a place where the outside world couldn't intrude.

you both knew it wouldn’t last, that the universe had only granted you this one night to set things right. but for now, you were lost in the warmth of his embrace, the taste of him on your lips, and the feel of his skin against yours. you allowed yourself to believe in the lie that this could change everything, that you could have a second chance. his hands roamed your body, relearning every curve and contour as if trying to burn the memory into his soul. the rain soaked through your clothes, melding you together in a bittersweet symphony of desire and despair.

the night unfolded in a haze of passion, every touch a whispered promise of what could have been. the air grew thick with the scent of rain and the heat of your bodies as you stumbled into his apartment, a silent agreement hanging in the air. the room was dimly lit, the rain now a gentle lullaby against the windows, the only sound the ragged breaths and soft moans that filled the space. you let him lead you to his bed, the softness of the sheets a contrast to the tumultuous storm raging within you.

as you lay together, the storm outside mirroring the one in your hearts, you felt the sting of tears on your cheeks. jungkook kissed them away, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. you didn't speak, didn't dare to break the spell with words that could shatter the illusion. instead, you communicated with touches and sighs, your bodies speaking a language that transcended the limitations of speech. the moments were fleeting, the time slipping away like the rainwater down the drain. you both knew it was just a temporary reprieve from the cold reality that awaited you come morning. yet, as you tangled together, lost in the warmth of his arms, you couldn’t help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, the universe had chosen to tip the scales in your favor tonight.

but even as the thought whispered through your mind, the weight of the truth settled in your chest like a stone. the universe had never played favorites, and it wasn’t about to start now. this was just a brief intermission in the grand play of life, a poignant reminder of the love that once was and could never be again. as dawn approached, you lay there, your hearts racing, your bodies slick with sweat and the scent of each other. the rain had stopped, leaving only the quiet hum of the city waking up around you. jungkook's grip on you tightened, as if he could hold onto the moment forever. but the light grew brighter, and the shadows of doubt began to creep in, painting the walls with the harsh strokes of reality.

you knew it was over, that the universe had collected its debt and the bill was now due. you pulled away from him, the cold air hitting your skin like a slap. you dressed in silence, the weight of your clothes feeling heavier than the armor of a thousand warriors. jungkook watched you, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored your own, his expression a silent plea for you to stay. but you couldn’t. the sun was rising, and with it, the inevitable end to your stolen night. you whispered a goodbye, the finality of the word cutting through the air like a knife. he nodded, understanding in his eyes as you stepped out.

the days stretched out like an endless, monochromatic expanse, each one bleeding into the next with a sense of profound emptiness. the world outside your window seemed to spin on, indifferent to your internal collapse. you found yourself in a state of profound disconnection, where everything once vibrant had faded to gray.

you no longer cried, not because you had run out of tears, but because the depth of your sorrow had become a silent, consuming void. your eyes, once accustomed to weeping, now felt parched and vacant. the tears had dried up, leaving behind a dryness that mirrored the desolation within you. the very act of crying had become a distant memory, a faint echo of the anguish that had once poured forth uncontrollably.

the ache of his absence was now a dull, relentless throb in your chest. you moved through your days with a leaden sense of inertia, your limbs heavy and unresponsive. the bed you once shared with him felt like a vast, hollow expanse. you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets cold and uninviting. the warmth of his presence had been replaced by an oppressive chill that seemed to seep into your bones.

you had lost your motivation, the spark that once drove you to engage with the world had flickered and died. the things that used to bring you joy now felt like meaningless rituals. you had no desire to engage with anything—no will to cook, to read, to socialize. the activities that once held meaning now seemed like empty gestures, as though they belonged to a past self you could barely recognize.

every corner of your home seemed to mock you with reminders of his absence. the roses he had given you still stood in their vases, their petals vibrant yet wilting against the muted backdrop of your sorrow. they had become a symbol of your hollow grief, their beauty now tainted by the pain they represented. they, too, had started to wilt. you found yourself unable to touch them, unable to bring yourself to care for them. they were a reminder of what had been lost, and their presence only served to deepen the emptiness.

the moments you had once cherished now felt like fleeting illusions. the memories of his touch, his laughter, his smile—they all seemed like echoes from a distant, unreachable past. they hovered around you, tantalizingly close, yet forever out of reach. the very essence of him had become a temporary fixture in your life, a fleeting warmth that had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. your days blended into a monotonous routine, each one passing in a blur of gray and silence. you moved through your life with an automaton’s grace, performing tasks without passion or enthusiasm. the mirror reflected a face that seemed unfamiliar—hollowed eyes, a wan smile that never quite reached your eyes. the person you saw there was a shadow of who you once were, a shell that had been hollowed out by the weight of your grief.

even as you went through the motions of daily life, your mind was a swirling vortex of despair and disillusionment. you felt disconnected from everything, as though you were observing your own existence from a distance. your body was present, but your spirit seemed to have retreated into a dark, inaccessible corner. the world was a blur of indistinct shapes and sounds, and you struggled to find meaning in anything. in the quiet of your solitude, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of thoughts that offered no solace. the emptiness was all-consuming, a deep well that seemed to have no bottom. the once vibrant, hopeful person you had been now felt like a distant memory, a ghost of a self that had been irrevocably altered by the loss of him.

jungkook lay in the darkness of his room, the sheets crumpled around him, a silent testament to the upheaval of his emotions. the room was heavy with the scent of you, a lingering fragrance that had become both a balm and a torment. the aroma of you clung to the fabric, a ghostly reminder of a presence now painfully out of reach. he buried his face in the pillow, the soft, familiar scent washing over him like a bittersweet wave, mingling with the dampness of his tears.

his heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, each beat a sharp pang of longing and regret. he clung to the pillow, clutching it as if it were a lifeline, trying desperately to hold onto the remnants of you. the tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless, soaking the fabric beneath him. he sobbed into the pillow, his cries muffled but raw, each sound an expression of his overwhelming grief. he could no longer see clearly through his tears, but the darkness of the room seemed to envelop him, pressing down on him with a suffocating weight. your absence was a gaping void that filled the space around him, amplifying his sense of loneliness. the bed, once a place of comfort and shared warmth, now felt like a desolate expanse where he lay alone, adrift in his sorrow.

desperation clawed at him, driving him to a place where he sought to express his pain in ways that went beyond mere tears. his hands, once gentle and loving, now sought a different outlet for his anguish. with a shuddering breath, he pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled to the wall, the dim light casting long shadows that danced with his movements. his knuckles, still raw from previous attempts to subdue his rage, were now red and bruised, but the pain seemed to offer a distorted sense of relief.

he pounded his fists against the wall, the sound of his blows echoing through the room. each hit was not driven by anger but by a profound sadness that had consumed him entirely. he felt the sting of the impact, the dull ache of his knuckles meeting the unforgiving surface. his punches were more of a plea than a fight—a plea to feel something other than the empty ache in his chest, a desperate attempt to make the void of your absence tangible.

the walls bore the brunt of his sorrow, and the small marks left by his fists seemed to mock his attempts to find solace. the physical pain was a poor substitute for the emotional torment, but it was the only thing he could grasp at in his moments of despair. the act of hurting himself became a ritual of sorts, a way to channel the overwhelming sadness that threatened to drown him.

he collapsed back onto the bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and his hands, now throbbing with the aftereffects of his self-inflicted blows, rested limply by his sides. the room was silent save for the soft rustle of the sheets and his uneven breathing. he stared up at the ceiling, the darkness above him a mirror of the darkness within. his mind was a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and memories. He replayed moments with you over and over, each memory a painful reminder of what had been lost. the scent of you on the sheets, once a comfort, now felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how close yet how unreachable you were. he wished he could reach out to you, to call you and hear your voice, but the reality of your absence was a constant, unyielding presence in his life.

jungkook’s sorrow had transformed into a deep, gnawing depression that consumed every corner of his existence. he felt hollow, his body moving through the motions of daily life with a mechanical detachment. the days blended into a blur, each one marked by a sense of loss and longing. his emotions were a tumultuous sea, and he struggled to find solid ground amidst the crashing waves. every time he lay down, every time he stared at the empty space beside him, the grief would engulf him anew. the scent of you, the lingering touch of your presence, was both a comfort and a torment. he was caught in a cycle of remembering and mourning, unable to escape the pain that had become a constant companion. the bed, the walls, the silence—everything around him seemed to echo the emptiness of your absence, amplifying his despair.

you had spent days entangled in the suffocating grip of despair, every day a struggle to drag yourself through the motions of life. your home, once filled with the remnants of a love that now felt like a distant dream, had become a place where echoes of your pain reverberated endlessly. but as time wore on, there came a moment—a quiet, insistent moment—when the weight of your sorrow began to lift, if only slightly.

the realization that you had been clinging to a fractured ideal of the past started to seep into your consciousness. you began to accept that what you wished for, what you had yearned for so desperately, was not something that could be willed back into existence. the journey to acceptance was not instantaneous; it was a slow, deliberate process, marked by small victories and subtle shifts in your mindset.

you found solace in the mundane details of daily life. you began to notice the subtle beauty in everyday moments—the way the sunlight filtered through your window, the calming rhythm of your breath as you practiced mindfulness, the comforting hum of routine, and the way the godforsaken roses had finally withered away. slowly, you started to feel a sense of security in these ordinary rituals. they were reminders that life, while changed, continued to offer moments of tranquility and purpose.

as you ventured out into the world, your heart began to open up to new experiences. a first date—a simple, unremarkable event—brought with it a feeling of genuine happiness that you hadn't experienced in a long time. it was a tentative, fragile joy, but it was there nonetheless. you allowed yourself to be present, to savor the laughter and the connection, to let go of the lingering shadows of the past. the date was a pleasant surprise, an unexpected gift of normalcy and hope. as you walked hand-in-hand with your companion, you felt a warmth in your chest that had been absent for too long. the world seemed to expand around you, filled with possibilities rather than regrets. you were starting to live again, to feel alive.

at the end of the evening, as you were handed a bouquet of flowers, your heart fluttered with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. the flowers were beautiful, vibrant red roses, their petals soft and inviting. you accepted them with a genuine smile, letting their delicate fragrance mingle with the newfound joy you were experiencing. the sight of the roses, however, didn’t evoke the visceral reaction they once did. instead, they were simply another part of your reality, no longer a symbol of the pain that once defined your days.

what you didn't realize was that jungkook had been waiting nearby, a bouquet of dandelions clutched in his hands. he had hoped to see you, to offer you something that held meaning for both of you. but as he watched from the shadows, his heart sank when he saw you take the roses with such ease, a gesture that seemed to signify a quiet acceptance of a reality that he himself struggled to embrace.

the sight of you with the roses, when he knew how much you had loved dandelions, was a harsh reminder of the chasm that had grown between you. it was a moment that crystallized the harsh truth he had been avoiding—your life had moved on, had found new sources of happiness and meaning, while he remained anchored in the past. the acceptance he had hoped to find in his own heart seemed elusive, overshadowed by the painful reality of watching you embrace a new chapter without him. jungkook stood there, paralyzed by the sight before him. the dandelions in his hand felt like a cruel joke now, a poignant symbol of what could have been. they were meant to be a token of his love, a way to reconnect with the joy you had once shared. but seeing you with the roses, accepting them so effortlessly, made the dandelions seem insignificant, a mere relic of a bygone era.

in that moment, he faced the unyielding truth of his situation: the reality he had been trying to avoid was indeed cruel and unforgiving. his heart ached with a profound sense of loss, but beneath the pain was a new understanding. acceptance was a bitter pill to swallow, but as he watched you with the roses, he began to grasp its necessity. as you walked away with your bouquet, your happiness palpable, jungkook was left alone with his dandelions and the reality that you had found a way to move forward. the once vivid pain of your absence was now tempered by a melancholic acceptance. it was a realization that, no matter how much he wished things could be different, the world continued to turn, with or without him in your life.

the sky was a somber gray, an oppressive expanse that stretched endlessly above you, mirroring the weight that settled heavily on your heart. you stood there, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands, their vibrant red a definite contrast to the bleak backdrop of the overcast day. the flowers, once symbols of love now transformed into markers of loss, felt heavy and poignant.

you had come to understand something profound in this moment—something that had eluded you for so long. you understood why jungkook had been drawn to these roses, why they had held such a special place in his heart. the roses were undeniably beautiful, their petals velvety and rich, a testament to nature’s ability to create splendor even in the face of hardship. but you also grasped the deeper truth: beauty, as with everything, came at a price. the thorns of the rose were not just physical barriers; they were metaphors for the pain that often accompanied true beauty and love.

as you held the bouquet, you let yourself marvel at the roses’ splendor. each petal was like a delicate brushstroke of crimson on a canvas of green, a fleeting masterpiece of nature. you ran your fingers gently over the petals, feeling their softness, their warmth, and for a moment, you were lost in their beauty. the roses were not just flowers; they were a testament to the complexity of emotions and experiences.

a tear, born from the depths of your sorrow, slipped silently down your cheek. it landed softly on one of the petals, its glistening drop mingling with the rose's vibrant hue. you watched in a kind of mesmerized sadness as the tear traced a slow, shimmering path over the surface of the petal. it was a testament to the pain you felt, yet the flower remained unwavering in its beauty. the tear did not diminish the rose's allure; it merely added to its story, making it all the more poignant.

with careful reverence, you approached jungkook’s grave, the final resting place of the person whose absence had left a void in your life. the roses, now intertwined with your sorrow, seemed to carry a weight that transcended their mere physical presence. you set them gently by his grave, placing them with a tenderness that spoke of your deep, unspoken grief.

the wind stirred, causing the petals to flutter ever so slightly, as if acknowledging the gesture. as you stepped back, you observed the bouquet resting there, a symbol of your enduring affection, and also of your newfound understanding of the delicate balance between beauty and suffering. the roses, despite the tear that marked them, remained beautiful—unblemished in their elegance, a reflection of the love and the pain they represented.

the realization hit you with a cruel clarity: even as the roses symbolized something deeply personal and painful, they also embodied an immutable truth about beauty. it was a truth that jungkook had understood far better than you could have ever realized before. his love for the roses had been an acknowledgment of their dual nature—their ability to captivate and hurt simultaneously.

you stood there, feeling a quiet, aching acceptance. the sky above remained gray, a canvas as muted as the feelings swirling within you. the roses danced in the eind, their thorns seemingly harmless now, their crimson petals vibrant as the wind blew against them. they were beautiful, just as he was. if only they hadn’t withered as quickly as they did. maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have either.

✧.*

a/n: modu uril chyeodabwa

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞! — 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆. ˒ ⊹

syn. bladie brainrot. he is the only man ever. pair. blade x f!reader cw. biting / fem reader / p in v / exhibitionism (?) (they bone in an empty alley) / just a lil thirst i'm so very normal and sane about bladie note. blade my beloved. hes in my brain always. i meant to stay under 300 words but then it got a little bit out of hand—regardless, i hope u enjoy ♡. i love blade RAHHHHHHH

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

blade is not gentle in the way he loves you.

he's rough around the edges, and perhaps a little too possessive for his own good. he likes to press your buttons, rile you up and push you until you break. it drives you mad.

you still can’t help but be drawn to him, though; his aloof manner is alluring and the glint in his eyes is dangerous. and oh, watching him in battle—the flex of his biceps, the almost graceful way in which he brutally takes his enemy down—you think find yourself entranced.

and when it’s all said and done, blade still has so much pent up energy left. it’s almost like clockwork: he takes down his final enemy and then is whisking you away once the other stellaron hunters take over the scene. you can see kafka and silverwolf share a knowing glance and your face grows warm in embarrassment.

blade was insatiable.

the moment he gets you alone he’s already mouthing at the sensitive skin of your neck, canines pressing against the flesh almost like a warning—a reminder that he could so very easily pierce with them—and you find yourself thinking that you wouldn’t even mind.

his tongue laves up your jugular, drawing a sweet moan from your lips as he sucks a hickey right on your pulse point. blade knows exactly what gets you going and he does not intend to waste a single second.

a breathy sigh of your name against your neck, rough hands trailing down your sides to stop at your hips and give them a squeeze, blade wants to devour you. he slides a hand under the fabric of your skirt, pushing your panties to the side to expertly rub circles on your sensitive clit. he drinks in the moans you let out in a kiss, a heated exchange that melts your core and sends shivers down your spine.

"blade," you whine. "more.. need more."

he hums, crimson eyes glinting in the darkness of the alleyway as he turns you around, pressing you against the cold wall. it wasn't uncommon to have blade take you wherever and whenever he wanted, especially when he grows pent up—like he was now.

you hear rustling, and in seconds you feel the fat head of his cock prodding at your soaked cunt. your lips fall open in a quiet gasp as you feel him stretch you out, the familiar ache of him splitting you open a welcome one. you hear him let out a harsh sigh behind you, his lips attaching to your neck once again.

and there he takes you. his thrusts are harsh and his grip on your hips is bruising, but you wouldn't have it any other way. he leaves dark bruises along your neck and collar, marks of his possession over you that the sight of alone sends him into a frenzy.

blade is not a gentle lover. but he is an attentive one—he doesn't stop until you're crying from the pleasure, making sure he and he alone is the only thing on your pretty little cock drunk mind.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[hydrasra]

Insignificant.

SYN: it is all a meaningless dream. do not worry about it.

DISC: ooc and swearing here and there. so.... fontaine is here. how we feeling? also, what do you guys want to name wanderer? also also, kindly let me know if you've changed your username and what was your old one so I can replace it if you are in the tagging list.

TAG: [ 22/30] @bloop-booop @sunsethw4 @neverlandlostchild @ghostlysyntaxed @wolfe02 @valeriele3 @the-dumber-scaramouche @weirdducky17 @esthelily @shroombro @ayanokomu @bamboozledchaos @xo-tokki @bloopthebat @maybeyourcat @7smexy7diva @shimi-shimi @issy-lol @theblueblub @nightmarewhispersxx @ra404 @blackhoodsmile

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

"do you ever feel insignificant, neuvi?" [y/n] asked, sitting down next to the hydro sovereign while staring up at the starry sky.

for a good minute, silence ensured, which made the "fake" creator look at him.

"I did," the iudex sighed softly.

"you did?"

a nod... and then, "now, the people of fontaine, and," neuvillette paused, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "as well as lady furina made sure that I am always feeling comfortable. besides, they all seem to be very appreciative of my work," a deep chuckle escaped him.

he opened his eyes once again and locked gaze with [y/n], "and I am deeply grateful for that."

the "fake" one nodded, smiling softly at him before turning back to look at the starry sky, "well, in that case, I'm happy for you, neuvivi."

the two sat in comfortable silence for a mere minute before neuvillette spoke once again, "the people of teyvat... no, your people are simply making a mistake," their eyes widened and looked at him in shock.

'how...?'

"please, I hope you can forgive them when the time comes and they realise that, all this time, they have been led astray by a fake and chasing away the real one," he extended his hand towards them, and yet, he seemed so far away.

[y/n]'s shocked gaze softened, "I... don't know, neuvillette. their words and actions hurt," they managed to mumble.

"please," his hand was still extended towards them, "if you were in their place, would you not blindly follow the one you trust the most despite their questionable antics simply because of your devotion for them?"

[y/n] bit their lower lip.

'would I?'

silence.

and then, "I do understand your pain and hesitancy, however, creator."

"how do you know that the one in front of you right now is the real creator?"

neuvillette, with his hand still held towards [y/n]'s direction merely smiled softly. a rare and beautiful sight.

"I can only appear to the real one in a dream when they are resting. that was your wish for your sovereigns, wasn't it oh merciful one?"

[y/n]'s eyes shot open. they slowly sat up and groaned while looking around.

ah, that's right. they fell asleep and lumine, along with paimon and venti, decided to sleep on the same bed with them.

and despite it being cramped, it was oddly comforting.

sleepy [e/c] eyes fell onto lumine's resting face and a sigh left their lips while a ghost of a smile sat on their lips.

they then looked at barbatos and then, last, was paimon.

a heart ache.

they slowly untangled themself from the small sleeping pile and walked out of the room.

where were they going? they didn't know themself, they simply allowed their feet to carry them.

and carry them they did.

they now were outside of the mansion in lumine's serenitea pot, staring at the... same starry sky that was in their dream?

strange.

oh, and they felt a piercing gaze on them as well.

"your... grace," an all too familiar voice spoke in clear hesitation.

uncertain if he could even talk to them, much less breathe the same air as the creator that he had hurt physically previously.

a hurtful tug in both of their chests could be felt.

"the sun is shining brightly today," a passer-by commented.

"yeah! looks like the hydro dragon is finally happy, huh?" one of their friends said, grinning.

neuvillette, who was sitting on a bench nearby, a rare sight and yet, people didn't crowd him, not wanting to disrupt him, let a ghost of a smile sit on his face.

yet, as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

"monsieur neuvillette, bonjour!" a pleasant and feminine voice said.

when he looked in the direction it came from, it was navia, accompanied by her two bodyguards and friends, walking towards him with a wave of her hand and a big grin on her face. the two men looking as expressionless as ever, however, they did greet him with a nod of their heads which he acknowledged with one of his own.

"good morning to you too, lady navia," he went to stand up to greet her properly, but the president of the spina di rosula simply shook her head in disapproval.

"there's no need. also, please, just call me navia," the pretty lady sat down next to him and her two bodyguards stood a few feet away.

it was their lady's private time with a friend after all.

"how have you been?" she asked, looking at the happy passer-bys.

"I have been all right, as always and you?" he said, looking at a melusine that walked by and waves at him.

he waved back.

"that's good to hear! and I have been in such a good mood lately! so imagine how happy I was to see the sun after so many days of rain!" navia leaned her head back, closed her eyes and seemed to soak in the sun.

"good morning, lady navia, monsieur neuvillette," a monotone and feminine voice said, which made navia's eyes snap open and look immediately in the voice's direction.

"good morning to you too, lady clorinde."

"ah, good morning, lady clorinde..." navia trailed off.

she was still a little awkward around the champion duelist, after all. not as much as before, however.

sensing the president of spina di rosula's discomfort, the tall woman was about to excuse herself, already coming up with an excuse to leave the awkward lady alone, but a sudden commotion caught her attention.

and at the heart of it all, there stood furina, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"ah! please, move aside..." the people around started whispering, wondering what was going on and if something special had happened.

alas, she simply wanted to make her way over to the iudex.

furina smiled nervously at her people before calmly stating having to talk to her right hand and his friends for important matters.

which, in turn, made them even more curious but they did not want to be even more of an inconvenience to the person they admired and made way for her.

"ah ha! thank you, wonderful people of fontaine...!" and with that, furina seemed to practically run towards monsieur neuvillette.

oh, archons...

⠀⠀ ══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

hey, how ya doin? 🤩

I'm alive, don't worry.

[solarwoniii]

" ˋ꒰ what if !? ꒱ " - ft. choi yeonjun

[ nsfw post! minors please do not interact. there are many other posts on my and other’s blogs which are much more suitable for your consumption! ]

syn. if there's one thing you can't do, it's swim. so, when you almost drown at a business get-together, your parents decide its about time they got you into swimming lessons. little do they know, the polite young man who they hired to teach their sweet and innocent daughter had intentions, which would lead her to question 'what if?'

a/n. LOOK AT ME GOOOO FIRST FIC IN LIKE FOREVER?? if this flops i will literally cry omg pls excuse my writing i have only just started getting back into this recently ehe... pls give me reblogs and feedback it will give me the motivation i need to keep going okay ty enjoy

cw. pool sex, not rly public but risky stuff, tutor x tutee, mentions of drowning, somewhat of plot building here, rough/rushed, vvv affectionate stuff, secret relationship, very subby reader w/ dom yeonjun, pet names (princess, baby, ect.), heavy praise, i think that's all but please do let me know if i missed anything!

your head was spinning with ‘what ifs’. you whimpered at the painfully pleasureful feel of yeonjun putting his hands on your hips, his grip strong enough to leave reddening nail marks on your tender skin as he lifted you off of his length, only to let your entire body drop back down with a harsh slam. he smirked at the way you reacted to the feeling of the battering intrusion, a shuddering gasp escaping your partially parted lips at the way he stretched your core out with ministrations similar to that of an ever-racing train, spinning out of control as it runs head-first off of its tracks.

you had almost drowned six months ago at one of your parents' business celebrations, and probably would have died if the man before you hadn't dove into the water, pulled you out into the surface and resuscitated you.

since then, your parents had been worried sick for you and any other encounters with a body of water, they'd always known you couldn't swim, but they hadn't thought that it was that bad. so, of course, they had done what any worried caretaker would do, and exchanged information with the boy, once finding out that he was in fact a swim tutor himself. it would be much better than hiring a stranger, and this man seemed to be quite the well-rounded boy, considering he the son of their closest business partner. not only did he have outstanding grades, but he was respectful and he was around your age. so, what harm could he possibly do to their sweet daughter?

a lot.

and you knew that now, after six months of lessons and a few months of secretly dating the boy.

although, you had never really done anything so risky with him before.

“what if we get caught?” you whispered through the tears prickling your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, “we’d get into so much trouble, we’d be banned from ever speaking to each other again, we-“

yeonjun's large hand wrapped around the back of your head, making your face meet his in a kiss so sultry, yet so beckoning. he smirked against your mouth, “you worry too much, princess.”

you gulped at the boy underneath you, his gaze falling to yours through his wet eyelashes, his dampened brown locks falling messily over his eyes, his mouth stained with your strawberry lipgloss. although the room was dark, the way his smirk graced his lips made you clench around his girth, as you spoke ever so softly, “i-i’m only being cautious..!”

he rolled his eyes at you, “you’re fucking your swim tutor, baby. caution left way long ago.”

you closed your eyes and hid your face in your hands with guilt and shame as he reminded you of the graveness of the situation you had entangled yourself into, "ugh..! my parents sent me here to swim and i'm doing... this!"

yeonjun chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around your cold, barren, water-dripping body, his legs dipped into the swimming pool, "if you wanted to swim that badly, you could've said so."

"wait, what are you--" your questioning was abruptly cut off as your boyfriend suddenly held onto you, pulling you into the water along with him. your piercing squeal of surprise echoed through the halls of the empty pool as you found yourself splashing into the cold water, the smell of chlorine and fear only intensifying as your paddled around with your hands. yeonjun laughed at your struggle as you grabbed onto him for some stability.

"see? we're swimming now." he said matter-of-factly, before looking over to the clock. his eyes widened as he realised the time.

he circled his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, "i'm going to kill y-" you started, until yeonjun grabbed both of your cheeks, connecting his lips to yours messily.

"kill me later." his voice came out in a lazy mumble as he held you close, "your session's ending soon. let's finish off what we started."

your eyebrows furrowed at the way his playfulness seemed to nullify, his voice becoming much more mellow and low as his lips moulded against yours. your eyes fell heavy as he suddenly spun you around, pushing you up against the wall of the pool, pulling your ass out towards him in swift, forceful movements. his lips suctioned onto the back of your neck as yeonjun pushed himself into your tightening hole, his hips meeting yours in an angle where he could so easily fill you to the hilt, his pink and throbbing tip attacking your cervix. you cried in pleasure at his desperate and quick movements, sending you into a state of pleasure that you weren't even sure existed.

the pool water around you splashed and sloshed with every movement, his mouth beside your ear as he spoke to you, "feels good, baby?"

"f-feels s-so good, junnie-" you whimpered in response, the tears from earlier racing back as you screwed your eyes shut tight. his hand lifted one of your legs, effectively spreading you out impossibly more, as his middle and ring fingers rubbed at your clit in rough, sloppy circles.

"gonna tell your parents 'bout how much you've improved..." yeonjun said, tone dripping both with love and lust as his other hand snaked around your body, groping at your breasts, his lips fluttering soft kisses along your jawline, "my smart girl catches on so fast every time. always makin' me so proud."

a choked moan left the back of your throat, your wet hair falling into your eyes with each thrust, your voice shaky as you babbled mindlessly, "d-don't wanna go home.."

he smirked softly, pecking your temple, "i know, baby. but i'll see you next week, okay? and then we can catch up on the lost time all over again."

you sniffled, "o-okay." your hand quivering as it found his, gripping tightly onto his fingers as you clamped tightly around him, "s-so close, junnie."

"yeah? you're gonna cum for me?" he asked between heavy pants as each thrust he delivered came faster than the last one, the erotic nature of the sound of your skin slapping against his making your body quake.

you could only respond with the nod of your head at his question, much too dazed to even think straight anymore. you felt the crash coming as your climax built up in your stomach, your thighs shook and convulsed at the sensation as you let out a broken cry of pleasure, dropping your head as our release sent your mind spiralling into a web weaved with so many different emotions, you were sure that you would lose count if you tried.

the movement of his hips slowed to an eventual stop as his peak reached as well, leaving you filled with his pearlescent finish as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he laid gentle kisses along the side of your neck. the words he said only came out in a soft whisper with his lips against the shell of your ear, "let's get dried off.."

taglist. @hunbun07 @metalchick529 @chewryy @haesunflower @iraa567 @jwchn @bunhoons !

[captainwinterrsoldierr]

you'll be ok

jason grace x fem!reader

Authors note: I haven’t written in a while I’m sorry if this is meh also it’s in y/n (you perspective)!

Warnings: None

syn: jason is feeling overwhelmed with who he should be and who he wants to be.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was midnight as the Argo ii sailed across the seas. The night was beautiful. The waters reflected the jittery stars in the sky. Jason sat at the edge of the ship, his head on his knee. He looked as he felt, troubled and a sense of confusion. All these made up memories, feeling more at home at a different camp than where he was raised. He felt conflicted on what he should feel.

Y/N restlessly flipped in her bed. It was like this lately. Not being able to sleep until the cracks of dawn. She sighed heavily, grabbed a blanket and got up and made her way down the halls of the Argo II. Small snores and swoons were heard in the dark hallway. She noticed one door was open, Jason’s. She mentally noted that and went up the stairs leading to the outside of the ship. As her eyes adjusted to the night light she noticed the blonde guy missing from his quarters sat at the bow of the ship. She made her way over to him and noticed he looked distressed and deep in thought.

“H-hey Jason,” You said. Jason slightly jumped at the sound of her voice, startled that someone else was up at this time of night.

“Sorry sorry didn’t mean to make you jump!” Y/N exclaimed.

Jason patted next to him acknowledging for her to sit, “no please sit down I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting anyone else out here.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “are- are you ok?”

Jason smiled softly, “yes- no I’m ok I don’t want to burden you.”

Y/N slapped his shoulder lightly, “you can never ever burden me Jason. Whatever is bothering you, you can talk to me ok? I’m here for you, always.”

Jason sighed and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, “I’ve just been feeling stressed ever since leaving Camp Jupiter and the Argo II accidentally attacking there. They probably think I’ve outright betrayed them without knowing the truth. And it’s just been making me think who am I? And who do I want to be? Roman, Greek? How many more false memories do I have? It’s all very overwhelming.”

You listened inventively. Your heart ached for him and how you wish you can just take even a half of his pain away from him. He was a puppet to so many and you wanted to help him. Help him find who he deserves to be, and help him find his peace.

You scooted closer and wrapped your blanket across his legs to keep him warm. You placed a hand on his shoulder and looked into his blue eyes. “I think Jason Grace is who Jason Grace is. a loving, selfless, kind soul who will help anyone in need. Someone who wouldn’t think twice of sacrificing himself for his friends. And that Jason, that’s something not even fake memories can take away from you. That’s just who you are. The rest of this will come as you navigate this newfound freedom outside of Camp Jupiter. There’s no harm in being both. It will come and you’ll know when it hits you. You’ll be ok I promise.”

Jason pulled your hand off his shoulder and held it softly in his hand, “Thank You Y/N, that makes me feel better, I’m grateful to have someone like you in my life.”

You smiled at him warmly, “of course dummy and if you ever need a reminder of how sweet and awesome you, my quarters is hmmm? 2 doors down from ya….. on the right side.”

He chuckled and surprisingly leaned in to kiss the top of your forehead, “I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

You blushed softly, “I hope you do.”

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL  - solid showing

Jan 20232 Wk 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

My School President (Fri YT) 7 of 12 - Tinn flirting using a periodic table is such a simp. I can’t with this boy. This ep made me laugh so flipping hard. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? GMMTV you tricksters, you. I’m sorry to say that even the catfishing part made me laugh. What a wonderful show. 

Never Let Me Go (Tues YT) 6 of 12 - I loved the part where Pawin speaks multiple languages: English Thai, and Mandarin. Pawin is good! Lovely diction. I like the discussion over The Kiss and I liked how clear N is about who he is and what he wants. P is the opposite, doesn’t really know what he wants, and wouldn’t know how to express himself even if he did. Yet they are still somehow sweet with each other. Pond is so cute when he smiles. 

Between Us (Sun iQIYI) 10 of 12 - I gotta say that this level of miscommunication at this point in the drama is merely ep 11 bullshit manipulation. And it is annoying. Even though i know the story has no other vehicle to drive crisis at this point in the show, I’m not happy about it. Dare I say this BL is a touch disappointing? Well, if I don’t say it, who will? WATCH ALONG HERE.

609 Bedtime Story (Fri WeTV) 9 of 11 - OhmFluke are always good, but because of the cheating thread I find it really hard to support this couple. I liked the “who done it” twist. I did see it coming, but I watch too much TV. I love GamesVee but Vee’s hair is truly terrible. 

Cutie Pie 2 You (special) 3 of 4 - Disastrous sun glasses, Zee. TutorYim did an awesome job on their sexitimes. I admit to being worried, I was a little scared they couldn’t carry physical intimacy off (holding down 3 series this year). But they did good job. Although, Nuer, if your boy is that twitchy and ticklish? Strap him down and bite. Hard. Presumably he’s not called Syn for nothing. 

I Will Knock You (Fri Gaga) 10 of 12 - Just too much blushing maiden for me to stand. And Noey’s odd blinking thing? What is with that?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The New Employee (Korea Weds Viki) 5 of 8 - Backstory of the pen is explained, and daddy forces a conversation about it, which I LOVE. I thought his first reaction was a bit harsh, but I’m on his side. Get over your college crush, baby. Pay attention to the guy that’s in front of you. Also cat fucking things up more = classic. The guy walking by in the street who called them “cute” for a hug is my hero. I love this show so much. 

HIStory 5: Love in the Future (Taiwan Weds Viki) 4 of 10 (or 7&8 of 20) - Rich boy getting jelly. Jonny getting savvy. Boys holding hands and falling asleep together after an earthquake is cute. Office sides = best couple on air right now. I love how Vincent just casually cuts up his food and gives it to his baby boy. Tony remains evil and manipulative but hot, I shall call him: Pouty McHotterton 

Candy Color Paradox AKA Ameiro Paradox (Japan Fri Gaga) 5 of 8 - I think they made a mistake of putting Izuka Kenta into this one. He’s so good everyone else‘s performances look weak by comparison. 

Individual Circumstances (Korea Thurs Viki) 8 eps - A reunion romance between a movie director who was once promising and a writer who disappeared due to past wounds. Stars JunQ (main rapper of 2nd gen group MYNAME) and Han Jung Wan (Mr International Korea winner). I like this more than I thought I would (reunion romances are not my thing) mostly because of the bratty director character. Using a guitar to torture someone is entirely appropriate, in my book/BL world it happens all the damn time. It’s an interesting promise, I do want to know what happened in the past. The bike is silly. 

It’s Airing But I’m Not Watching It

GMMTV’s Midnight series - first segment has begun bit it’s not the EarthMix messy gays. I’m so not interested in messy hets, so I’m waiting until they grace my screen. Moonlight Chicken (Weds YT) 1 of 8 eventually.  

Gossip

Be On Cloud (the KinnPorsche people) announced its 2023 line up. Descriptions and discussion here. 

In Case You Missed It

The Star Always Follow You (Vietnam YT) ended amorphously so yeah not my thing. 

I posted a meta of all my 2022 wraps, top picks, industry stats, etc..

I ALSO posted the 2023 forthcoming BL master post. (see comments some are inaccurate) 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Frigay is BACK with a vengeance. Honestly, I like this line up. This is about the number I can handle in a week. 

Still (supposedly) to come in January:

The End Of The World, With You

Hit Bite Love

Luminous

Nilundon

Time the series

BL Fashion Hall of Shame

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

They are my children. MUST PROTECT. 

World’s best wingman. 

What did I say about biting? Tinn gets it. 

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? And this week my OG bias has a single, two actually, but the comeback isn’t good, so I’m opting for: Letter from Park Jinyoung (GOT7). If you listen you’ll understand why I also love Leo so much. Honey voices are my weakness. 

[ftgrace]

🎀FULL NAME: Grace Lynn Connor 🎀NICKNAME(S): Gracie (close friends) 🎀AGE: 38 years old 🎀GENDER & PRONOUNS: Ciswoman, she/her 🎀SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Straight (Maybe? Possibly? 👀) 🎀RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single 🎀CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl), Astrid Sloan (The Politician), Margaery Tyrell (Game of Thrones) 🎀OCCUPATION: Senior Associate at Connor Ventures 🎀HOMETOWN: Oxford, UK 🎀PREVIOUSLY LIVED: Oxford, UK and Los Angeles, CA 🎀TIME IN BLUE HARBOR: Since August 2024 🎀CURRENT NEIGHBORHOOD: Oak Gardens (She's staying at the Jade Palace) 🎀FACECLAIM: Annabelle Wallis

💰 𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈 💄 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 👑 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 📌 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃

Grace, the eldest of three in the Connor family, hails from Oxford, UK. Despite a strained relationship with her siblings, she loves them in her own way. Growing up, she faced the pressure to succeed, attending top schools and excelling in various activities. Her path was set to inherit the family's venture capital firm, specializing in restaurant investments, where she worked tirelessly to earn her father's approval.

When her sibling, Ashley's, high-profile engagement ended in a public scandal, Grace felt the weight and responsibility of repairing their tarnished reputation fall on her. She led the family business' expansion to Los Angeles and took a risk by backing an influencer brand, Synful Bakery, which unfortunately led to another scandal.

The failure strained her relationship with her parents, leaving her feeling lost and determined to fix the situation. Discovering that the influencer, Madisyn, was making a comeback online, Grace took a bold step. She flew to Illinois to confront Madisyn, determined to use her to restore the Connor family's reputation.

[ladybyakuya]

| RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK + bofurin : umemiya hajime, suo hayato, ren kaji,mitsuki kiryu.

+cw. — f!reader, ex!boyfriend headcanons + scenarios, break up blues and yearning, smut, s&d + s&m dynamics, or@ls, ,slight [ex]hibitionism, /m.dni/

+wc. —2k+

+syn.— maybe the flames never really died; to welcome new beginnings and perhaps, it is better to get burnt in those familiar flames rather than foreign ones. 

+notes. — first time writing for everyone except ume yay! | redirect to blog navigation. 

⁠✧ umemiya hajime !

Umemiya, your ex-boyfriend is sitting beside you with a beer cup in his hand which is almost emptied. You sip and stare at the crowd trying to find someone you know but a familiar voice makes you stop breathing. It is not the voice that sucks your mind  into that corner of the sofa where you were seated but the set of words that ringed in your ear.  “Fuck, I’m so attracted to you right now.” You can feel it. He is staring at you, perhaps swirling his beer cup lazily before emptying it, hands jittery, eyes lidded with longing, lust. . .love perhaps yet you have not been able to turn your head in his direction and you know, the moment you look at him Umemiya will find a way back to you. Ah!How many times has it been? Fifth? Tenth? You might have lost the count but Umemiya hasn’t. He remembers each and every instance that had made you walk away from him. It’s his fault, really! You are not to blame.Umemiya’s heart leaps with joy seeing you still, unable to take in another breath in. He lets out a chuckle.

“No.” You nod as you speak, “We’re not doing this again.”  You say with so much strength in your voice and Umemiya can not laugh it off. He gulps, keeping the beer cup on the table, keeping his hands on his knees, fingers enclassing with each other as you wait for some sort of response. Then, he looks at you eyes so heavy with longing and loneliness that reaches your melting point. 

“Right. We can’t.” He takes the last sip of his beer. “Not here.” Another wry chuckle follows that makes you get up and walk away from him but you do not join the crowd but rather go into one of the secluded rooms, gracing a pained gaze at him before stepping into the room and leaving the door open behind you. Umemiya follows right after locking the door behind him and waits. It’s frustrating how well he knows you, and that you are playing games, falling into his trap deeper and deeper every time. But unlike other times, he does not initiate things with you; rather it is you who kneels in front of him as he slowly caresses your cheeks, and touches your lips roughly but as you try to suckle on his fingers he deprives you of his touch that you have been longing at lonely nights like this but move down along your chest pulling up your top to tuck it on the upper lining of your breasts that are covered with a red lacy bra and he can bet anything that you are wearing a matching set. His fingers roam along the lining of your bra but he does not touch you where you want. while his other hand works on his belt to take his cock out. 

“Suck,” he commands and you obey like a good little pet that you are, always have been.

⁠✧ suo hayato !

        “No! I’m not doing this to myself again.” You tartly speak jerking your head away from Suo’s direction as you find his gaze lingering on you more than it should. You say that being unaware of your position. It’s funny. How do you have no clue what is going on around you? Suo has you currently seated on his lap in a different room secluded from the loudness. The door of the room is parted slightly since you insisted him so that you can see if anyone’s coming or not but you are too drunk to notice. Suo lets out a soft chuckle. It’s funny really. This is the third time you have tried to empty the soju can yet again. Every time Suo fills it with a little bit of water so that you sober up little by little. He would take you home, tuck you in bed, guard you in your vulnerable state treat you as if you were as soft as morning dew but why did it have to be like this instead? You and him are apart, living separately. At the same time, it pains him to see how you would surrender to the point of ruin just to get Suo’s attention, just to get him back. The cushioned chair is large enough to have Suo spread his legs comfortably as you occupy his lap. He tilts his head, chin resting on his hand as he watches you fondly. If only . . . 

His gaze trails down a little bit ceasing at the advent of your cleavage. He looks away rather than fixing it because that might make you hostile. You are not easy to handle when you are drunk but he can take care of so easily. It’s a shame that you won’t let him. As Suo was drawing in your thoughts gazing at you, eyelids falling frequently trying his best to keep up with you but the next time his eyelids gave up, he felt a pair of lips on his while a hand on his chest. Ah! Finally. It does not take much for Suo to reciprocate your advances and he proceeds like pouring oil in a blazing fire. As you keep burying your lips into him, he shifts in his position little by little, and suddenly he has you seated on that soft, lips apart from yours yet a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths. He loves the look on your face. You’re angry not at him but at yourself for being unable to contain yourself inside the boundaries. You let your desires spill and you can never blame your ex-boyfriend but he is the master of how you are acting right now.

Suo fixes your dress and inclines to kiss you again but you pull away. This is so nostalgic. He remembers how this is his easiest tactic to get you sobered up and it seems that you have sobered up quite a bit. He still inclines towards you whispering into your ears, “Why act so coy when we both know you’ll be back for more?”

⁠✧ ren kaji !

Kaji’s headphones are peacefully resting on his shoulders. He showed up early in the party in the name of helping you but truly it was just to be around you, follow you as you work in the kitchen or just to see you working in the house. He had missed it so much, the sound that comes when you are around which is enough that he did not have to put his headphones up. The clanking of bracelets with the utensils, the low hum you do when you get too engrossed in work, the sound of your footsteps, the sound of your breathing— he had missed everything so intently that it makes him so dull these days. Even Hiragi-san complimented how you were the goodness of Kaji’s life.

You take a bowl of chips and walk towards the main table but your feet slip making you lose balance Kaji catches you preventing any serious injury from happening to you. The chips are scattered all over the floor while you are tilted as Kaji keeps you in place by grabbing onto your hand. He feels you slipping from his grip so pulls you towards himself and then as you can take a firm stand on the ground you feel his hand still lingering on your waist.

“Kaji, I’m okay. You can let go of me now.” You are assured but all you hear is a grunt followed by tightening his grip on you. You let out an exasperated sign not even letting your arms encapsulate him trying to hold back the urge, but he doesn’t mind. You can inhale his familiar candy-like smell. Before you end up making a mistake you repeat, this time firmly enough to get a response. “Let me go.”

Kaji’s hand is now on your upper arms, eyes fixated on you as he softly states, “You know I can’t seem to think straight around you.” 

“Oh my god! Stop.” You try to swat away his hands but how could you forget how strong he is? The fact that he is not wearing his headphones makes it harder for you to let go. You look away to avoid his melting gaze but a moment later you fill his lips on the nook of your neck and then his teeth. You can not seem to do anything but take it all in because the moment his lips touched your skin it felt like a rotten knot being unfurled. Your hand skims through his hair that makes Kaji push you up against the wall, lips going down until he has one of your tits out of your loose t-shirts. Ah! fuck. It’s so over for you. Kaji looks at you as his tongue sticks out at first, licking your nipple and then his lips wrapping around the protruded nipple making you suck in a hard breath. The impact of longing and not touching each other for so long that it feels limitless making you skid against the wall and both of you are now on the ground: Kaji sucking your tits as your free hand goes in between your legs.

✧ mitsuki kiryu ! 

Mitsuki has been stealing glances in your way for a while now. He is sitting far from you but you can feel his gaze as if he is stripping you naked from close quarters. There are others and he is more or less chatting with them unlike other times when he would be busy gaming, all the time not that you minded, and it was never the reason for your break up with him. His friends left to get a refill but he did not. He decided to stay sober. Kiryu still has not changed his position from in front of you to your side even though he can but he keeps looking at you with all the want in his eyes that it becomes so hard for you not to notice. Besides, people are staring at him, then at you but you can not seem to leave your seat. You easily could but something is holding you back and you refuse to accept it is stemming from Kiryu, your ex-boyfriend.

Your feet finally listen to you as you walk past Kiryu. His lush green eyes never leave you once. “Stop looking at me.”  

“I can’t,” Kiryu confesses and it makes your world come to a halt. You shift your gaze from the ground upon him as he adds further, “And I don’t think you want me to either.” His palm is under his chin while his elbow rests on the cushion-like stretch of the sofa. He is so cocky. You try to leave but he pulls you towards him making you fall right on his lap. The over-curious crowd, although small still makes you drown in embarrassment as they “haww!” in unison. It almost makes you cry. You feel like you won’t be able to leave his lap for the rest of the night or maybe him for the rest of his life. You would not have minded this if it happened just two months ago because it was he who posed the idea of a break-up. It was all him. You never intended to let this happen but you were just getting a good start about moving on. It was so nice, comforting, and uplifting and then Kiryu comes crashing down like a calamity on you. It really makes you cry.

“I hate you.” You say while stifling a cry, looking at him, still seated on his lap. Unable to contain the pang in you anymore you bury your face in the nook of his shoulders while your hand immediately grabs onto his shirt. He does not try to shush you. He lets you cry as he feels the wet sorrow of your soaking in his shirt. Right now you don't care what the world thinks or what the world sees so he tilts his head a little, placing a peck on your cheek. It makes you hold on to him harder, and take in a long breath. 

“you will get a headache if you cry too much. so, make sure you hydrate after crying. And by hydrate, I mean water, not beer.” While Kiryu whispers sweet nothings into your ear his hand makes its way under your skirt, over your panties. He lets one of his fingers run over the damp part of your cloth. “Ah! You’re wet here too babe.” He whispers into your ear.  You jerk awake from him, eyes red and swollen, face tear-stained. He takes his hand out, licking his finger as you look at him. “So, my place or yours? What do you say?”  Ah! there is no going back is there?

“my place.” Your response makes Kiryu’s eyebrows pinch. It would be his first time going to your place, not that he would mind but he asked that out of habit since he had been trying to get laid to forget you, and some part of him is relieved that you chose your place. You are putting yourself first. Ah! He sees it now. You’ve already moved on from him.

[peachymilkshakes]

Fashion Dreamer, a review by a Style Boutique/Savvy/Girls Mode long time fan

I recently got the game and due to recent backlash of it I figured I'd write sort of a ramble review on it now that I've played through the initial tutorial phase and gotten to the meat of the game. I will most likely update my post once I got to the last Cocoon, so look out for that (or don't. Whichever floats your goat)

First a bit of a backstory. Back when I was a tiny little peach, I was gifted this game by my grandma called "Style Boutique" It was the first game on the NDS. I was immediately hooked. It had so many different brands of clothes to choose from, most of which I had memorized (And I still know them by heart if you asked me) not only that, but it also had a game function where if you finished the main story of entering and winning all the contests, then you could just keep running your own boutique, even on the Nintendo Network. You could sell your clothing to other players, and you could shop in other peoples stores too. I had MANY trips down to my local library just to connect to their wifi and download some clothes for my in game character to wear. I had many great memories with this game. Not only that, but I grew a fondness to the cast of characters. Namely, Grace, Dominic and Renée.

After a few years, Nintendo stopped supporting the game, and moved on to the newer title, Style Boutique 2. Which I didn't play at the time as my parents never got it for me. However, I played it a bit later when I had my own money, and to my dissapointment, the game wasn't the same as the first. This trend of the games getting worse kept going with the 3rd entry too. I played it for a while, but none of them managed to hook me as much as the first game did. I never quite understood why though.

Fast forward to now. Syn Sophia's newest title "Fashion Dreamer" is out on the switch. And I'm enjoying it quite a bit. I feel like the clothing selection is really cute and diverse, and the idea of the social media connections is also a really fun mechanic. I think I understand some of the critisisms. That the game loop gets boring after a while, and that they wished the clothing brands from Style Boutique came back. Personally though, I like this fresh new take on the fashion game genre. Something that Syn Sophia definately popularised. And although I can feel this getting boring, I really enjoy styling my character, and treating the game as nothing more than what it is meant to be: a digital paper doll.

Is it worth 50 euros though? Hm, It depends on what you think this game is worth. I do think it would be worth it once the DLCs hit. That said, many game companies have been doing this whole release an unfinished game spiel and I could write an entire book about how much I hate how nintendo treated animal crossing and splatoon just to prove this point but I think you can make your own conclusion there.

The game misses reoccurring characters like Grace, or at least a more tangible way to play. It doesn't need to be exactly like Style Boutique. Not in the slightest. It would be nice if we had at least something to make progress on besides the gameplay loop that we have going on right now.

I think this game deserves critisism. However, I'm also not going to pretend that this game is a pile of hot garbage. Because it's just not. It's a solid game which I really would reccomend you play if you love dressing little characters.

Verdict after the tutorial, not more than 5 hours in: the game is fun and refreshing. I like where Syn Sophia is going. However, I miss the first Style Boutique. (Which is perhaps nostalgia talking to me) 6.5/10

[cartoon-character-competition]

I finally have ✨️the list✨️

these are all the characters competing, first two rounds will be randomized, then I will make a bracket out of the remaining competitors

polls won't start until at least this Wednesday as I'm having a very busy weekend and I still need to compile all the images, so in the meantime, if you wanna submit some images to help me out, please do!! images without backgrounds are the end goal and would be the most helpful but finding the images is what takes the most time so if you have one please send them!! you can via asks or dms. if you send via asks I won't post them and anons are still on if that makes it easier. once I get some I'll cross out the ones I have so you guys know what to submit

thanks everyone, and I'm sorry you guys had to wait this long!!!

505 (Villanous)

Aang (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Adora (She-Ra: Princess of Power)

Adrien Agreste (Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir)

Ahsoka Tano (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

Aja Tarron (Tales of Arcadia)

Aleksandr Kallus (Star Wars: Rebels)

Allura (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Alya Cesaire (Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir)

Amelia Hughes (Infinity Train)

Amethyst (Steven Universe)

Amity Blight (The Owl House)

Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

Anne Boonchuy (Amphibia)

Apple White (Ever After High)

Arthur Kingsmen (Mystery Skulls)

Asami Sato (Avatar: Legend of Korra)

Azula (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Badyah Hassan (Dead End: Paranormal Park)

Baljeet Tjinder (Phineas and Ferb)

Barbara Millicent Roberts (Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse)

Bart Simpson (The Simpsons)

Beatrice (Over the Garden Wall)

Beatrice Horseman (Bojack Horseman)

Beckett Mariner (Star Trek: Lower Decks)

Bee (Bee and Puppycat)

Bender Bending Rodriguez (Futurama)

Benson Mekler (Kipo and the Wonderbeasts)

Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls)

Blake Belladonna (RWBY)

Blitzø (Helluva Boss)

Bloo (Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends)

Bloom (Winx Club)

Bluey (Bluey)

Bojack Horseman (Bojack Horseman)

Bolin (Avatar: Legend of Korra)

Boots (Dora the Explorer)

Bow (She-Ra: Princess of Power)

Bubble (Battle for Dream Island)

Buford Van Stomm (Phineas and Ferb)

C1-10P/Chopper (Star Wars: Rebels)

Cabbage Merchant (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Candace Flynn (Phineas and Ferb)

Captain Rex (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

Carmen Sandiego (Carmen Sandiego)

Cassandra (Tangled: The Series)

Catra (She-Ra: Princess of Power)

Claire Nuñez (Tales of Arcadia)

Clawdeen Wolf (Monster High)

Cleo De Nile (Monster High)

Commander Peepers (Wander Over Yonder)

Courntey (Dead End: Paranormal Park)

Courtney (Total Drama)

Craig Williams (Craig of the Creek)

Cybersix (Cybersix)

Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom)

Darcy/The Core (Amphibia)

Daria Morgendorffer (Daria)

Darius Deamonne (The Owl House)

Darling Charming (Ever After High)

Delilah Briarwood (The Legend of Vox Machina)

Diego (Go Diego Go!)

Dipper Pines (Gravity Falls)

Discord (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Dora (Dora the Explorer)

Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz (Phineas and Ferb)

Dr. Saira Bellum (Carmen Sandiego)

Draculaura (Monster High)

Eda Clawthorne (The Owl House)

Eddie and Venom (The Spectacular Spider-Man)

Electro (The Spectacular Spider-Man)

Emperor Belos (The Owl House)

ENA (ENA)

Entrapta (She-Ra: Princess of Power)

Ezra Bridger (Star Wars: Rebels)

Ferb Fletcher (Phineas and Ferb)

Finn the Human (Adventure Time)

Fluttershy (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Frankie Stein (Monster High)

Freakazoid (Freakazoid)

Fred Jones (Scooby-Doo)

Frobo (Amphibia)

Garnet (Steven Universe)

Gene Belcher (Bob's Burgers)

George Pig (Peppa Pig)

George Washington/Jason Funderburker (Over the Garden Wall)

Giovanni Potage (Epithet Erased)

Glimmer (She-Ra: Princess of Power)

Goo (Inanimate Insanity)

Grace Monroe (Infinity Train)

Grand Admiral Thrawn (Star Wars: Rebels)

Greg (Over the Garden Wall)

Grog (The Legend of Vox Machina)

Gumball (The Amazing World of Gumball)

Gus Porter (The Owl House)

Harley Quinn (Harley Quinn: The Animated Series)

Hera Syndulla (Star Wars: Rebels)

Hilda (Hilda)

Hisirdoux Casperan (Tales of Arcadia)

Hollyhock Manheim-Mannheim-Guerrero-Robinson-Zilberschlag-Hsung-Fonzerelli-McQuack (Bojack Horseman)

Homer Simpson (The Simpsons)

Hopadiah Plantar (Amphibia)

Horse (Centaurworld)

Huey Freeman (The Boondocks)

Huey, Louie, and Dewey Duck (DuckTales)

Hunter (The Owl House)

Iroh (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Isabella Garcia-Shapiro (Phineas and Ferb)

Janna Ordonia (Star vs. the Forces of Evil)

Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia)

Jude Sharp (Inasuma)

Kagami Tsurugi (Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir)

Karen (Spongebob Squarepants)

Katara (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Keith (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Kelsey Jannings (Bojack Horseman)

Kelsey Pokoly (Craig of the Creek)

Ken (Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse)

Kikimora (The Owl House)

King Clawthorne (The Owl House)

Kipo Oak (Kipo and the Wonderbeasts)

Korra (Avatar: Legend of Korra)

Krel Tarron (Tales of Arcadia)

Kurt Wagner (X-Men Evolution)

Kyoshi (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Lagoona Blue (Monster High)

Lake (Infinity Train)

Lance (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Lapis Lazuli (Steven Universe)

Lemmy Koopa (The Super Mario Brothers)

Lena Sabrewing (DuckTales)

Lewis Pepper (Mystery Skulls)

Libby Stein-Torres (The Ghost and Molly McGee)

Lilith Clawthorne (The Owl House)

Lisa Simpson (The Simpsons)

Lorna (Over the Garden Wall)

Luigi (The Super Mario Brothers)

Lunella Lafeyette (Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur)

Luz Noceda (The Owl House)

Lyra Heartstrings (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Mabel Pines (Gravity Falls)

Maddie Hatter (Ever After High)

Mai (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Map (Dora the Explorer)

Marceline (Adventure Time)

Marco Diaz (Star vs. the Forces of Evil)

Marcy Wu (Amphibia)

Marge Simpson (The Simpsons)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir)

Mario (The Super Mario Brothers)

Mayor Fred Jones Sr. (Scooby-Doo)

Mikey Simon (Kappa Mikey)

Miko Kubota (Glitch Techs)

Milo Murphy (Milo Murphy's Law)

Mingi Park (Infinity Train)

MK (LEGO Monkie Kid)

Molly Blyndeff (Epithet Erased)

Molly McGee (The Ghost and Molly McGee)

Montana/Shocker (The Spectacular Spider-Man)

Mordecai Heller (Lackadaisy)

N (Murder Drones)

Nox (Wakfu)

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

Odd Della Robbia (Code Lyoko)

One-One (Infinity Train)

Oodle the Doodle (Animated Inanimate Battle)

Orko (He-Man)

Pacifica Northwest (Gravity Falls)

Patrick Star (Spongebob Squarepants)

Pearl (Steven Universe)

Penn Zero (Penn Zero: Part Time Hero)

Peppa Pig (Peppa Pig)

Peridot (Steven Universe)

Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb)

Philip J Fry (Futurama)

Phineas Flynn (Phineas and Ferb)

Player (Carmen Sandiego)

Poison Ivy (Harley Quinn: The Animated Series)

Polly Plantar (Amphibia)

Princess Bubblegum (Adventure Time)

Princess Carolyn (Bojack Horseman)

Radicles (OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes)

Raine Whispers (The Owl House)

Rapunzel (Tangled: The Series)

Raven (Teen Titans)

Raymond (OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes)

Redson (LEGO Monkie Kid)

Rex (Generator Rex)

Riley Freeman (The Boondocks)

Rock Rickaby (Lackadaisy)

Rok-Tahk (Star Trek: Prodigy)

Ruby Rose (RWBY)

Ryan Akagi (Infinity Train)

Sabine Wren (Star Wars: Rebel

Sabrina Spellman (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)

Sam and Max (Sam and Max: Freelance Police)

Sasha Waybright (Amphibia)

Scorpia (She-Ra: Princess of Power)

Scratch and Grounder (Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog)

Sea Hawk (She-Ra: Princess of Power)

Shadowsan (Carmen Sandiego)

Sheriff Stone (Scooby-Doo)

Snap (Chalk Zone)

Sokka (Avatar: The Last Airbende

Sonic the Hedgehog (Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog)

Soos Ramirez (Gravity Falls)

Peter Parker (The Spectacular Spider-Man)

Spinel (Steven Universe)

Spongebob Squarepants (Spongebob Squarepants)

Sprig Plantar (Amphibia)

Squidward (Spongebob Squarepants)

Stanford Pines (Gravity Falls)

Stanley Pines (Gravity Falls)

Star Butterfly (Star vs. the Forces of Evil)

Starfire (Teen Titans)

Static Shock (Static Shock)

Stella (Winx Club)

Steve (The Owl House)

Steven Universe (Steven Universe)

Stewie (Family Guy)

Stitch (Lilo and Stitch)

Stolas (Helluva Boss)

Suki (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Sylvia (Wander Over Yonder)

T.K.O (OK K.O.: Let's Be Heroes!)

Tendi (Star Trek: Lower Decks)

The Powerpuff Girls (The Powerpuff Girls)

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle

Tigger (Winnie the Pooh)

Toby Domzalski (Tales of Arcadia)

Todd Chavez (Bojack Horseman)

Tom (Tom and Jerry)

Tom Lucitor (Star vs. the Forces of Evil)

Toph Beifong (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Tulip Olsen (Infinity Train)

Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Valerie Gray (Danny Phantom)

Vivi Yukino (Mystery Skulls)

Wakfu (Wakfu) The Professor (Hailey's On It!)

Wally West (Justice League (2001))

Wammawink (Centaurworld)

Wander (Wander Over Yonder)

Waylon Smithers Jr. (The Simpsons)

Webby Vanderquack (DuckTales)

Weiss Schnee (RWBY)

Wendy Corduroy (Gravity Falls)

Willow Park (The Owl House)

Wilt (Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends)

Wirt (Over the Garden Wall)

Wolf (Kipo and the Wonderbeasts)

Yang Xiao Long (RWBY)

Yugo (Wakfu)

Yummyan Hammerpaw (Kipo and the Wonderbeasts)

Zadra (Tales of Arcadia)

Zetto (TOME: Terrain of Magical Expertise)

Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

[o-kaythislooksbad]

@jupernaturalweek day 3: sustenance food | warmth | understanding

the first time a goblet and a flimsy piece of bread is pressed into his hands, castiel is standing in a dark room with high ceilings. he can't recall what he's done this time, to land him in such a miserable place on earth, but he knows his time here is meant to be penance, so he accepts the offering. 

even though he can't taste things, not in the way that mortals do, the wine and cracker leave an unpleasant sensation of ash and despair on his tongue. as he heads back to the pews, it takes every bit of his self-control not to vomit all over the stone floor. 

the first time a goblet and a flimsy piece of bread is pressed into his hands, castiel finds himself surrounded by stained glass and marble statues. he can't recall what happened in heaven that led to his arrival on earth, but it must be for his own good, so he accepts the offering. 

he's still an angel, he still can't taste things, but he can sense them on his palate and the way they make his insides crawl.

by the time castiel can remember being sent to earth, he's doubting whether or not there's a lesson involved. castiel can't be doubtful, so he remains dutiful, taking part in the ritual and living amongst the people until they inevitably destroy themselves to prove their god is good.

time on earth, like taste, has no meaning for castiel. time has no meaning, but there are moments that stand out amidst the expanse of existence.

the first time castiel watches someone recite a blessing over wine and distribute it among the congregation, it's because he followed a pull from his heart and wound up in a rectangular stone room. this room is more of a house than a chapel, and while he can perceive a chill in the air, there's a natural warmth surrounding everyone.

castiel is returned to heaven shortly after, and loses most of his worldly memories after reporting to his superior. he can't recall being in that room, but as he watches it being ransacked and plundered and burned, as he watches the people suffer on the basis of being different, he wishes he could be there to return the comfort they extended to him.

the people of earth continue to squabble and fight and kill, and as it is below, so it is above.

the fighting goes on for minutes or for millennia, interspersed with brusque talks of sacrifice and loyalty. 

castiel knows sacrifice and loyalty in the same way he knows that allegiance and faith go hand in hand with one another. he knows that devotion is expected, that it's required, but he knows that in the same way he knows that just because something is revered, that doesn't mean it deserves to be respected.

the first time - no, not the first time. he hasn't been in this exact place before, but he has been here before. this time castiel finds himself surrounded by crucifixes and organ music and talks of a holy ghost, and something inside of him snaps. 

castiel is doubtful, but he can't be dutiful, not here, not now. when the people rise to approach the altar, he uses the crowd as an opportunity to exit through the heavy wooden doors and go anywhere else.

anywhere else turns out to be heaven. they tell him before they wipe his mind that if he can't even learn proper behavior from mortals, he really must be lost, and the only way to return is through going through the trials again. the last thing he remembers thinking before the white walls of heaven fade to black is that if grace must be earned, can it really be called grace at all?

as above, so below.

you don't think you deserve to be saved?

time on earth, like taste, used to have no meaning for castiel. it used to, but now there are people and moments that stand out during his lifetime and give him insight into what it was that he was missing during his previous visits to earth.

the first time he catches bobby mutter hamotzi under his breath as he passes a burger to dean, the atmosphere changes around them and suddenly castiel is back in the lithuanian synagogue. he's hearing the kiddush from thousands of years ago while hearing this family talk about classic cars and castiel is struck with the realization that this is about being strengthened not just by the food but by the culture and community as well.

the first time dean says baruch hashem when jody and donna bring cholent on a friday afternoon, the sincerity and kindness overwhelms castiel. he's an angel; he's meant to be objective, to follow orders and to not concern himself with emotions. he maintains a neutral expression but there's something about everyone looking out for each other while acknowledging that this love extends to hashem as well that makes castiel almost proud to be involved with them.

the first time sam drunkenly raises a l'chaim, his dimpled cheeks tinged pink, castiel's entire being hums with joy. he even drinks a bit with sam, and helps him eat his confusing mixture of popcorn and gummy candies while they watch cartoons. castiel is still an angel, and he still can't taste things, but the salty-sweet smell combines with sam's smiles and the result is a warmth that castiel hasn't felt since his grace was taken away. 

the seconds and thirds and hundreds of times after are no less impactful, and those are the moments that castiel wishes he could preserve in jars and hold in his hands like pieces of mann to nourish every aspect of his form.